#don’t ask me which colors were picked from who i don’t remember

[fnaf-flags]

The ASPD Flag picked from William Afton, William Afton, William Afton, William Afton, William Afton, William Afton, William Afton, William Afton, Dave Miller, William Afton, William Afton, William Afton, Steve Raglan, William Afton, William Afton, & William Afton!

Requested by @autismpines

[starryjake]

revenge | s.j

in which you get your revenge on jake after the time he overstimulated you with a vibrator.

pairing: jake x fem!reader

includes: sub jake, use of sex toys (vibrator), overstimulation, drooling and crying kinda, cumming multiple times, kinda bondage (lmk if i missed anything).

jake was so pretty. absolutely exhausted jake who just wanted to cuddle with you and go to sleep was too, too pretty.

you just had to have your fun with him.

besides, he should’ve seen it coming. he’d done the same thing to you last week.

you were tired from a long day of work and classes and jake thought it was the perfect time to absolutely torture you with a vibrator. he made you cum so many times, you’d lost count, but you were so oversensitive that it hurt.

that night, you couldn’t wait to get your revenge.

and then it was time: when jake was so sleepy and dazed, bound to go along with what you say until he would realize what was happening.

“baby,” he said softly as you started nipping his jawline, clearly trying to get his attention. “i’m too sleepy.”

“i know,” you mumbled, your lips pressed against his neck, “but i wanna have some fun.”

jake looked down at you, his sweet, sweet girl. he never wanted to deny you of the things you wanted, even when he was as tired as he was.

“i just don’t know if i can do anything, sweetheart,” he said. “you can hump me or ride my thigh if you want. just don’t be mad if i fall asleep.”

“no, jake,” you whined, trailing your hand down his bare torso. “you need to have some fun with me too.”

you grabbed his cheek and attached your lips to his before he could even realize you were doing it. he instantly melted into the kiss, sighing against your lips and bringing his hands up to your hair.

“so needy,” he mumbled against your mouth.

he couldn’t see it since his eyes were closed, but you rolled your eyes. you were needy, sure. needy to see him get what was coming for him.

testing, you dragged your hand down to cup his bulge, feeling if he was hard yet. you weren’t surprised to find that he was. it never took him very long, even when he insisted he was too tired.

you stroked your hand up and down his clothed erection for a minute, getting him worked up enough that he would actually want to cum and take back what he said about being too tired.

you knew he was at that point when you pulled away from him entirely and he pouted at you, his facial expression asking why you stopped.

saying nothing, you reached into the bedside table drawer and pulled out the fully charged bullet vibrator he’d used on you last week. jake’s face remained expressionless, not catching on to what was going on. he really was tired.

you set it on the bed and went back over to jake, pulling his pants down to his knees. he’d forgone underwear since he was just going to sleep, his cock springing out and slapping against his stomach. he was fully hard, his tip a light pink color and drooling a bit of pre cum.

for a moment there, distracted by the sight of his dick, you forgot all about your plan for the vibrator. you wrapped your hand around his shaft and started slowly jerking him off, watching his face contort with pleasure.

it was only when you felt him twitch in your grip that you remembered your mission.

you let go of him, much to his displeasure, picking the vibrator back up. he watched you turn it on, the humming sound of it suddenly filling your shared bedroom.

“what are you doing?” he whined, lolling his head to the side. “just make me cum and let me go to sleep.”

you scoffed. he was such a brat, it only made you want to use it on him even more.

“i will make you cum,” you assured. “just close your eyes.”

“i’ll fall asleep if i close ‘em,” he said.

“you won’t,” you assured him.

he sighed and closed his eyes, immediately becoming more relaxed. his shoulders slumped and his facial features softened.

you didn’t waste any time and brought the little pink vibrator right to the tip of his leaking cock.

jake jolted in shock, his eyes flying open.

“what the hell?” he almost yelled. “what are you doing?”

“having fun,” you answered.

he reached out to grab your wrist but you stopped him with a menacing glare.

“try to stop me and i’ll tie your hands up,” you warned.

“y/n, please,” jake huffed, staring down at you running the vibrator around his tip. “you’re not using your vibrator on me.”

“you did it to me first,” you reminded him. “you used it on me until i was shaking and begging you to stop. and i’ve been thinking about getting back at you everyday since.”

“i’m sorry!” jake cried out, tossing his head back in either frustration or pleasure, or both.

he couldn’t deny that it felt good. for such a small vibrator, the pressure was there. he could feel it intensely pulsating against his tip, pushing out more and more beads of clear precum. you’d only just begun and he was already so messy.

“i’m sure,” you mumbled, gathering some of the precum with your other hand.

jake bit his lip, feeling a warmth spread in his stomach and he knew he was already close. it hadn’t been very long but his sensations were heightened from his exhaustion.

“i’m close,” he told you.

you didn’t stop or slow down. in fact, you ran the vibrator down from his tip to his shaft and back up, his balls tightening from the unfamiliar sensation. his back arched in a way that was so pretty, your eyes widening from how affected he was by the vibrator.

“go ahead,” you said. “go ahead and cum for me.”

with that, his jaw fell slack and he groaned loudly as ropes of cum spurted out from his tip, which was a slightly darker pink than it’d been when you started.

“mmm, fuck,” he moaned, head tossed back and hips thrusting up slightly to ride out his high. “oh, yeah.”

a sheen of sweat covered his chest and his rosy cheeks. his chest rose and fell rapidly with little gasps of air. he came for longer than you imagined he would considering you’d only just started, but you assumed it was because he’d never had a vibrator used on him before.

you turned the vibrator off for a moment, taking in the state of jake before you. a puddle of his cloudy cum coated his stomach and his eyes were shut. his chest rose and fell less rapidly, telling you that he was finally calming down.

“jake?” you said after a minute.

he hummed, his eyes still closed. it was clear he was right on the brink of falling asleep.

to keep him from doing so, you turned the vibrator back on and held it against the underside of his cock below his tip, his most sensitive spot.

he jolted, eyes flying open like they had before.

“oh, fuck,” he moaned, grabbing your wrist to try and stop you again. “please. i can’t.”

“you can,” you assured him, holding the vibrator and his cock all in your one hand.

“please,” he cried. “it’s too much. i’m too sensitive, y/n.”

“you’re okay,” you responded, thinking about how sensitive you were when he did the same thing to you.

“oh my god,” he nearly sobbed. “‘m cumming.”

it was so, so quick. only a minute in and he was already shooting out more ropes of cum, landing on top of the puddle that was already there, creating an even bigger mess of himself.

he whimpered, entirely shoving your hand off of him to give himself a break.

“what’d i say?” you asked, demeanor darkening.

“you’re not tying me up,” he declared, like he was in charge.

“wanna bet?”

jake’s big brown eyes widened, watching as you reached into the drawer again to pull out the silk rope. you certainly weren’t afraid to use it on him, especially if he was going to be pushing your hands off.

“don’t,” he begged. “please.”

“then stop trying to push me off,” you said sternly.

“but it’s too much,” he whined.

he was already keeping a close eye on your hand gripping the vibrator, weary for when were going to bring it back to his cock again. it almost made you want to laugh.

“you can do it,” you said. “you can be good for me, yeah?”

he bit his lower lip, hanging his head.

you brought the vibrator back to his cock, turning it onto the next highest setting from before. his poor cock jake gasped, instinctively grabbing onto your wrist again despite what you’d just told him.

“jake,” you sighed, growing frustrated.

“i’m sorry!” he said, immediately retreating his hand.

you set the vibrator aside and grabbed the silk rope. you grabbed his hands and pushed them together, tying the rope around them tight enough that he wouldn’t be able to touch you again.

jake had a little pout on his face like a child who’d just gotten scolded after getting in trouble. it filled your body with warmth, how cute he was.

“i just wanna make you feel good,” you reasoned, pressing the vibrator onto his slit.

he hissed, pushing his hips up. his abs clenched, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of his face from the intensity of the vibrator and from already cumming twice.

“i know, baby,” he said while exhaling shakily. “it’s just…a lot.”

“but i know you can do it,” you cooed, dragging the vibrator down a vein on his dick.

he clenched his jaw, the mixture of pain and pleasure so overwhelming that it was clouding his mind, slowly turning him dumb.

“i can’t,” he mumbled pathetically. “it feels so fucking good though.”

“i know, honey,” you cooed softly.

you weren’t sure if you’d ever seen him prettier. his eyes were glazed over, his cheeks and ears a bright pink, and completely covered in his own cum. you wanted to ruin him, make a mess out of your tired boyfriend.

he tried to squeeze the bedsheets, but he was so weak. he couldn’t express his pleasure other than desperate moans.

he didn’t even warn you the next time he came. it just started coming out out his red, used tip, drooling out slowly in comparison to the sharp ropes that were spurting out before.

you were were pretty sure you saw a tear a slip down his face and were certain that he was drooling. he moaned shamelessly, so out of it that he felt like he was dreaming. he’d never felt so fucked out in his life.

you kept the vibrator pressed against him while he came and didn’t remove it this time to let him calm down.

“oh my god,” he slurred. “baby, pl—oh fuck. i’m cumming again.”

less than 30 seconds than cumming before and he was already cumming again, which you didn’t even know was possible.

his load was smaller, but his reaction was bigger. he threw his head back, exposing his pretty neck. his entire body tensed and the prettiest, most desperate moans and whimpers came tumbling out past his lips, swollen from biting and drooling.

“fuck, i can’t stop,” he moaned.

you watched him, feeling the wetness pool in your panties from how beautiful of a sight it was.

the veins in his body throbbed, his muscles clenched, and he just a beautiful mess. his cock was drenched in his own cum, the vibrator slipping against him.

you caressed his leg, removing the vibrator from his spent cock. he let out a groan of relief from you finally pulling it away, of giving him a moment to breathe.

his eyes were closed, his entire body limp. you lifted his hands in order to untie the silk rope, setting his hands free.

you sat up on your knees, caressing his face until he opened his eyes again, looking up at you.

“you okay?” you asked, your thumb brushing his cheek.

“mhm,” he mumbled, even more tired than he was before. “that was fucking…insane.”

“was it too much?” you wondered, grabbing some tissues from the box on the nightstand to start cleaning him up.

“yeah,” he said, “in the best way possible.”

you chuckled, running your fingers through his sweaty hair, pushing it out of his face.

“go to sleep, okay?” you said.

“but can we cuddle?” he asked sweetly.

“yes, we can cuddle,” you responded.

“and can i be little spoon?” he asked.

“yes, jake.”

-

screaming. shoutout to the anon who requested this, i loved the idea so much! sub jake just….don’t get me started actually!

[brokenmenswhore]

idk if this is crazy but poly!maruraders x reader where r is blindfolded and she has to guess which of her bfs is fucking her

😃😃🥲🥲😞😞

oh it’s crazy but OH did you come to the right place for that

guess | poly!marauders

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (james, remus, and sirius)

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+)

a/n: you wanna guess the color of my underwear you wanna know what i got goin on down there

────── ☾ ──────

“You just tell us if anything becomes too much, alright?” James said, tying the silk fabric behind your head tight enough that it fully enveloped your eyes in darkness.

“Okay,” you said.

Remus bent forward in front of you, and you could feel his presence, but you weren’t sure exactly where he was.

“Can you see me?” he asked.

You nodded your head no. “Can’t see a thing.”

“Perfect,” Remus smiled, and you could hear the satisfaction in his voice, even if you couldn’t see him, “now remember the rules. If you guess who’s fucking you correctly, you get to come. Now, Sirius,” Remus turned toward his friend, “start it.”

Sirius lowered the needle onto the outer edge of the record, allowing the music to fill your ears to further deafen your senses.

You made yourself comfortable on the bed, laying back against the pillows as you breathed heavy in anticipation.

One of your boyfriends began to softly run his hands up your legs, stopping when he got to the tops of your thighs. They all wore gloves to eliminate the possibility of you recognizing their touch, and the cloth felt soothing against your skin.

You felt the bed dip between your legs as he wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding them open as he placed kisses on top of your folds.

You shuddered, instinctively trying to grab at his hair, but your unoccupied boyfriends held an arm each to ensure you wouldn’t get lost in the pleasure and slip up. If you could feel their hair, you would be able to tell exactly who it was.

He parted your folds with his tongue, gently circling your clit as you shifted your hips to silently beg for more.

The boy between your legs moved an arm to hold down your stomach as he picked up the pace, flicking your bud and sucking at your clit quickly.

“Fuck,” you sighed, lips parting as you couldn’t help but moan.

Just as he began to get you worked up, he slowed down again, intentionally throwing you off with his pacing so as not to give away which boyfriend of yours he was. They all had their specific techniques, and he didn’t want to risk giving himself away.

You were unable to move your hips underneath is tight grip, so you just whined in anticipation. Each time he quickened his pace, you began to whimper and moan as you got closer and closer to your climax, and right when the coil in your lower stomach began to tighten, he slowed back down and left you wet and needy again.

You felt a tap on your shoulder, signaling you to take your guess if you wanted to come.

One of your boyfriends stayed between your legs, tasting you excruciatingly slowly. You tried to rack your brain for how you felt, and which one of them could make you feel like this.

You figured it wasn’t James- he could hold you down much harder, and his eating out technique was not something he could easily hide. With respect to your other boyfriends, if this was James, you’d have come already.

It was a genuine 50/50 guess between Remus and Sirius.

“I- fuck, Remus?” you guessed.

The boy between your legs disconnected his lips from you, and you felt him leave the bed, your body shivering from the sudden cold air on your core.

“Not me, baby,” Remus said from next to you, dropping your wrists, “better luck next time.”

You wiggled your hips and pouted, “come on, this is no fair.”

“What’s no fair is you don’t appreciate the head I give you,” James chuckled.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, but it wasn’t like they could see it much. “That was you?” you asked.

“Mhm. You taste sweet today, baby.”

“But- but you-“

“Couldn’t give you the same head I always do, now could I? This game would be no fun,” James whispered, leaning down next to your ear and placing a kiss on your cheek.

James stood up, and you heard faint, distant whispering, but you couldn’t make out what anyone was saying.

You obnoxiously cleared your throat to remind the three boys that you were ready and waiting and anxious to come.

“Alright, angel, you want more?” James teased, and you nodded your head furiously as you felt one of the boys spread your legs open and settle down on the bed between them.

They all fell silent again, intent on not giving away who was about to fuck you.

The boy between your legs leaned over you, and you felt the bed dip next to your head where he placed his arm for leverage. He lined the tip of his cock up with your entrance, pushing only a little in before pulling back out and watching in amusement as you moaned in anticipation.

“Please,” you nearly whispered.

He so desperately wanted to make you suffer, wanted to taunt you, wanted to make you ask for what you wanted- but he couldn’t speak or you would immediately know who it was.

Instead, he just pushed the tip in again, stilling for a brief moment before pulling back out.

You writhed beneath him, nearly crying from need as you clenched around air.

The boy took pity on you, slamming his entire length into you and immediately fucking in and out of you. He knew that if he stilled his entire length inside of you, you may be able to identify him.

He wanted to take it slow and torture you, but he had to move fast enough that it wasn’t obvious who he was. Your three boyfriends were all different, and your body adjusted and reacted differently to each of them.

Your back arched as he continued to fuck into you, moans freely slipping from your lips as your body squeezed his cock in appreciation for the stimulation.

You tried not to lose yourself in the pleasure, but you were desperate to come. You knew the trouble you would be in if you did so without guessing correctly who was fucking you, so you tried your best to focus on figuring it out.

Each thrust of his hips hit your cervix, and though he was rough, he wasn’t fucking you so ridiculously hard that he had to put in any extra effort to hit your sweet spot. He could without trying.

Your thoughts went cloudy as he pounded into you harder, losing his self control as he fucked into you faster and faster. He was close to losing this game for you.

He wrapped his arm around your back, his gloved hand gripping your hip as he snapped his hips into you, the new lifted position causing him to bump your clit with each thrust.

You threw your head back as he became selfish, nearly forgetting about maintaining anonymity.

You felt the tap on your shoulder, and you couldn’t bring yourself to think about it. You said what felt right.

“S- Sirius,” you moaned.

Sirius leaned down, allowing his hair to fall in front of his face as he whispered in your ear, “good girl.”

The praise sent you over the edge, as did the confirmation that you had guessed correctly. You came hard, squeezing Sirius’s cock as your thighs shook around him.

He continued to fuck you through your high, chasing his own as you cried out at the overstimulation.

He groaned on your ear, leaning over you as he held your hips against his. With a final few harsh snaps of his hips, he came inside of you, moaning so low that only you could hear. The noises were meant for you and only you.

Sirius caught his breathing before guiding his cock out of you and gently placing your hips back down onto the mattress.

Remus, from beside you, untied your blindfold and removed it from your face. You blinked as your eyes adjusted to the unfamiliarity of the light.

“You have fun?” James teased.

“Mhm,” you vocalized, stretching your body out before leaning onto your side, “it was hot, but Remmy didn’t get a turn.”

Remus giggled at your pouting, “you rest for a little, and then I’ll take my turn, hm?”

You smiled as he placed a kiss on your nose, whispering, “except you’ll know it’s me, everyone will when they hear you.”

You playfully gasped as he smiled at you, standing tall and holding his hand out to you. “Let’s get you cleaned up before that though, yeah?”

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @themetalhiro

Hi, I’m Metal! I’m a freelance artist from good ol’ New Jersey. My favorite things to work with are a lot of bright colors, exaggerated poses, and candid scenarios. I try to farm sensible chuckles whenever I can, so I’m also big into comics. I love making them about my life, and the media I’m into, and one day I’d like to publish my own series!  Thank you to everyone who has gotten me this far!!

Check out Metal's interview below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I guess so! It’s funny, I don’t remember a single time in my life that I wasn’t drawing as a hobby… somewhere in middle school (a little late, I know.) I put the pieces together that animated movies were made by artists, and that it wasn’t just for fun, they were paid to do it. The moment I discovered people could be paid to make art, I decided I would do that, too. Now I’m here!

How has your style developed over the years?

I think the best way to answer this would be with an example! Over the last few years, I have made more of an effort to draw more intentionally, which sounds silly. Now, I put more thought into my poses and step out of my comfort zone with shape language and composition. I had a phase where I drew everyone with a huge, perfectly circular head and no nose. That definitely did not lend much variety...

Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

Ack! I’m so terrible at history! I’d love to give a well-thought-out answer about fine artists of old, but I don't think we’d have much in common… Most artists I admire and who have driven me forward creatively are the people behind comics I’ve read. Andrew Hussie, Bryan Lee O’Malley, Eiichiro Oda... these guys have inspired me greatly and had a heavy influence in developing my art style and sense of humor. I’d love to ask them questions about their processes and upcoming projects. I think it would make for an entertaining night!

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

Outside of pure aesthetics like searing bright colors, layered clothing, and loud noises…. the best and most inspiring moments in my life were those surrounded by friends and loved ones! I cherish the hell out of memories of hanging around in fun locations, trying weird food together, and impromptu midnight walks... so I try my best to capture that atmosphere and my own memories in my work when I can, even if I’m imposing fictional characters on top of them. That’s always the core of it.

What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

I would never permanently refuse a medium, but every time I pick up clay, I’m like a baby using its hands for the first time. Absolutely dreadful. If one day I could make and paint a figurine like the ones I admire in videos, that would be awesome... But for now, I’m not counting on it.

How do you want to evolve as a creator?

I’ve had an absolute blast drawing fanart over the years, and it’s certainly played a massive role in my growth as an artist. But my dream has always been to publish my own stories for y'all to enjoy! I have lots of worlds I want to introduce to you before I’m old and gray. I want to get faster, work harder, and get better at drawing interesting settings so I can get the wheels turning as soon as possible. I also want to stop avoiding the color blue like a coward.

What do you wish you knew when you first started out creating art that you know now?

Pay your taxes quarterly. Tablets will break at the exact moment you need them most, so have a spare. Wear your blue light glasses. You’re going to need to wear a brace on every joint on the right side of your body. It can be lonely sitting at your desk all day. The car on the side of the road that costs $1000 cash….. don’t trust it!!!

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@cranity—They use absolutely beautiful colors and weighty line work. Everything looks so sharp and clean! I wanna put it all up on my wall!

@vewn—Their ability to crank out quality short films and illustrations packed with detail is incredible. The off-kilter perspective they use really sells disorientation and catches your attention like nothing else.

@nelnal—They have absolutely banger character designs again and again, I can’t believe one person’s mind can come up with so many creative ideas!

@jinx88kc—They have a beautiful and recognizable style, and the way they incorporate animation into their illustrations sometimes is SO cool!

Thanks for stopping by, Metal! For more of Metal’s work, follow their Tumblr, @themetalhiro! If you haven't seen their Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here!

[nanamiscocksleeve]

It's The Thought That Counts

My fic to @who-mentioned-rhys-larsen for my Secret Santa collab! Hope the smut was freaky enough for you pookie! Warnings: MDNI, sex, lingerie kink, toys, bondage, minor bdsm elements, bit of cum play, very little plot Summary: When you receive an unexpected present from Xavier, you realize his intentions are anything but holy. Word Count: 3425

Warm lights fill your small living room as you settle cozily next to Xavier on the carpet near the tree. Both of you were still in your warm holiday pajamas, yours a festive red and green with reindeer all over it, and his blue and white covered with snowflakes. Colorful wrapping paper was strewn all over the floor as Xavier put aside his most recently opened gift- a book of poetry you’d seen him eyeing a few weeks ago. Xavier takes the last remaining box from under the tree.

“The final present. I hope you like it.” Xavier’s tone is light but carries a hint of mischief and there’s a gleam in his ocean-blue eyes as he hands it to you. Curiously, you accept the box neatly wrapped in gold paper with a bow on top. You rip apart the tape and wrappings before opening the lid and your eyes widen in surprise as you see what’s inside.

You feel your cheeks reddening as you look at your presents. The first thing that caught your eye was a lacy, lingerie set in a silky cream color. It was folded at the bottom and as you observed the other contents lying on top of it, you squeaked and put the box down to cover your face.

“Something wrong?” Xavier’s voice is calm but has a teasing lilt to it.

“Xavier these presents…Why would you get me something like this?” You refuse to let him see your face even as you feel his large hand wrap around your wrist and tug. A playful chuckle leaves his lips and giving up on your wrist, he reassuringly pats your head.

“Why not? Weren’t we talking the other day about how we wanted to try new things in the bedroom? I just picked up a few things you had mentioned. But the lingerie set is entirely for my own pleasure. I thought you’d look beautiful in it.”

You finally take your hands away but can’t quite look into his eyes. Xavier catches your chin in his fingers and lifts your face to his. “Hey. You don’t have to be so embarrassed.” He pulls you closer and you rest your cheek on his shoulder, trying not to feel so flustered.

“There’s no pressure to use them. I thought I’d just buy them so that we had them on hand in case we were feeling adventurous sometime.” He nuzzles into your hair and you feel warmth gathering in your chest at the soft contact. Wrapping your arms around Xavier’s neck you lean back to look at him in the eyes.

“No making fun of me ok?” You ask him with large eyes and he smiles, nodding. 

“Now…what are these other things?” You gather courage and look back into the box. You pick up a pair of small clamps which had beads attached to the bottoms. 

“Nipple clamps.” Xavier moves closer to you and his hot breath tickles your ear. “Remember how that night you said you love having your nipples played with and you thought you’d like the extra stimulation?

His voice is husky and you feel a liquidy pull in the pit of your stomach at his words, little skitters of electricity running along your spine. Wetting your lips, you try to talk. “Uh, yeah. I remember. So these…?”

“The shopkeeper said they were beginner-friendly. A slight little pinch to heighten your senses.” Xavier’s thumbs subtly brush against the sides of your breasts and you feel the atmosphere in the room change, almost becoming steamy. Swallowing, you set the clamps aside and pick up another item, a silk pouch.

“Ah yes. This.” Xavier takes the pouch from you and the touch of his fingers on yours felt like little fires were erupting under your skin. He opens the drawstring and pulls out the items, which look like bits of satin.

“Restraints. For your ankles and wrists.” Xavier demonstrates by loosely looping one of the satin restraints over your hand and your heart skips a beat. “The shopkeeper suggested handcuffs at first but I thought these would be a little softer on your skin.” Xavier presses a kiss to your palm, the soft gesture setting off a firecracker of excitement in the pit of your stomach. He carefully puts the restraints back into the pouch and waits for you to pull out the last toy. 

Your hand trembles slightly as you pull out the last one, which is a strange U shape. One end had a small opening in the thick, cushy head while the other was shaped like a bullet vibrator. You run a finger over the soft silicone, then glance up at Xavier.

“And this…a novelty item the shopkeeper recommended.” Xavier runs a finger down the U-curve. “It can be used for both internal and external pleasure. This part-” Xavier taps the bullet-shaped end, “-Is meant to be inserted into your pussy. It vibrates and will keep your G-spot nice and stimulated.” His fingers trace back to the slimmer end with the opening. “And this comes over your clit.” His voice has become a sultry whisper as he explains, his eyes becoming darker with each word. “It has this delightful suction and it feels almost like a real mouth.”

Xavier is so close to you that you could have sworn he could hear the way your heart was beating rapidly like a caged bird. “Imagine this. You come out wearing that lingerie. I’ll take my sweet time removing it. Then we put those nipple clamps on. I think the pull would feel amazing on your sweet little peaks. Then I lay you down on the bed and tie you up with those satin ropes. And all the while you’re panting and moaning for me like a good girl, I’ll insert this vibrator into your cunt. How loudly do you think you’ll cry out when you orgasm?”

You find yourself tongue-tied and unable to push out the picture he’s painted in your brain. The idea of being so vulnerable to his eyes, of being under his control as he pushed you towards orgasm has your core clenching, and your clit was already throbbing uncomfortably from his descriptions. 

“Well?” Xavier prompts. “Do you want to put it on for me?” The intimate tone of his voice has you relenting and despite your reservations, you nod shyly. Xavier’s eyes light up and he looks approvingly at you. “Go on.” He jerks his chin at the lingerie. “I’ll wait for you in the bedroom.”

Your legs tremble as you get up, take the silky lingerie from the box, and scamper into the bathroom. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you started to undress. Turning, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror, seeing your perked nipples under the light before you pick up the delicate bra and start to hook it on. It contrasted beautifully against your skin, the lace flirting at the swell of your breasts, and the material pushing your bosom up like it was offering to be inspected. Next, you drag on the little lace boy shorts, the silky feeling of them as they glide up your legs almost erotic. Once on, you turn, blushing when you see that they barely covered your round ass. You sit on the edge of the bathtub as you pull on the matching thigh-high stockings which have bows at the top, and do a spin in the mirror.

You did look good, there was no denying that, but you also had never worn anything this luxuriously racy in your life before. Your flush has spread to your body, staining your skin like a delicate blossom waiting for spring. Taking a deep breath, you step out and pad towards the bedroom, noting the box containing the toys was gone; probably Xavier had taken it with him. You peek into the bedroom and feel a skitter of electricity pass through you as you see Xavier has changed into a silky bathrobe that was loosely tied and left most of his chest on display. He had laid out the toys on the nightstand and he catches sight of you as he turns to put the box away. A soft smile graces his lips as he sees you.

“Well hello there,” he says in a sweet voice. “Won’t you come in?” On wobbly legs, you force yourself to move, stopping in front of him, your eyes cast downward. Xavier catches your chin and lifts your face to his. Those blue eyes bore into yours, but there’s gentleness in them as he admires you. 

“I knew you’d look stunning in this.” He sits down on the edge of the bed. “Turn around for me.” Self-consciously, you spin slowly, feeling how much of your skin is on display. Xavier’s gaze was sending currents of heat shooting through you and you can hear his quiet breath through the silence. When your back is turned, he softly commands, “Stop.” 

You freeze, and wait, your feet digging into the carpet. “Bend over.” His voice cuts through the silence. Feeling your face burn, you lean over, feeling the shorts ride up higher into your crotch showing off more of your cheeks. The sensation of the fabric pushing against your pussy makes it throb, reminding you about the unspoken tension that had been building inside you from the moment you had donned the lingerie. 

You take a sharp breath as you feel Xavier’s hand cup your ass, giving it a squeeze, his fingers patting under the roll of flesh to make it jiggle. Satisfied with his groping, he chuckles softly. “Good girl. Now face me.” You straighten, then finish the turn and finally face him, your hands fiddling nervously with each other. Seeing this, Xavier tsks and pulls on your arm. You take a few shaky steps towards him and he comfortingly settles you on his lap, his hands running up and down your back. “Are you all right? Comfortable?” You nod, then whisper in his ear, “Yeah. I’m just a little unused to this.”

He hums in understanding, then helps you lay down on the bed before lying down next to you. He runs a finger across your cheek, down to your jaw, then your neck and collarbone before tracing the swell of your breast under the lace. The sensation tickled and you squirmed slightly under him. “That’s it, get comfortable with my touch,” Xavier murmurs, leaning in to kiss the column of your neck, his tongue laving the soft skin before he starts to leave a trail of wet kisses. The hand that was stroking your cleavage drops lower to cup your breast, giving an enticing squeeze that draws a breathy sigh from you. 

“Yes…just relax.” He dips a fingertip under the lace to flirt with the heated skin there and suddenly, you almost feel irritable, like the cool silk on your skin was too much of a barrier. Removing the invading digit, Xaver observes the way your nipples have hardened, the outlines clearly visible through the fabric and he brushes his thumbs against them. The sensation sends a line of lust straight into your core and you moan quietly at the action. 

A chuckle leaves Xavier’s lips and his hands wander to your back, snapping open the catch of your bra, revealing your prettily perked nipples to his eyes. Your chest rises and falls as you try to control your breathing but Xavier’s light touches and teasing looks are forcing you to remember the description he had told you earlier about how he was planning on this to go.  A noise of pleasure falls from your lips and Xavier pulls a nipple into his mouth, suckling and wetting it with his tongue and lips, alternating the suction and pressure as he tweaks its twin between his fingers. 

He hadn’t been wrong about the nipple play; you enjoyed it immensely, and currents of heat kept rising in your belly, radiating outward and making your body a pliant tangle of desire. As he switches to the other nipple, gracing it with his mouth, the persistent throbbing between your legs intensifies and all your brain can focus on is how you could relieve it. You needed friction so badly, and nothing was within reach. Whimpers escape your lips, your body trembling hotly under his mouth. With a wet pop, Xavier unlatches from your breast and admires the moistened peaks. 

“Ready to try out those clamps?” He helps you sit up and rests you against the headboard and gives both nipples a teasing twist that causes you to gasp before he picks up the beaded nipple clamps from the nightstand. You watch in fascination as Xavier gathers saliva on his tongue and spreads it over one of your peaks before sliding the stopper on the clamp loose. The cold metal slides onto the sides of your nipple and he slowly drags the stopper to close, letting it pinch your skin just enough that it brings a pleasant ache into the bud. He repeats this with the other one and the delicate pull makes you even needier than you already were. The little beads add weight and gravity pulls them downwards. They made you feel naughty like you were working in a burlesque. 

“How do they feel? Are they too tight?” Xavier tugs very lightly on one of the clamps and you yelp, not from pain but from the unexpected jolt of pleasure that courses through you. You shake your head no. “They feel good.”

“Ok good.” Xavier flicks the clamps almost imperceptibly, making them swing, enjoying how your face contorted each time. The sight of your trapped nipples had made him unbearably hard. It was taking all his willpower not to strip off your underwear and fuck you senseless at this very moment. Swallowing, he steels himself for what he wants to do next. He parts your legs by the knees, eyes becoming feral at the sight of the patch of wetness that has coated the gusset of the cream-colored boy shorts. 

Hooking his finger into the waistband, he drags the little strip of fabric off your legs, baring your sex to his eager eyes. The lips were puffy from arousal, and he could see a fine sheen of glistening moisture on the very edges of your labia. Xavier presses kisses to your inner thighs, stroking your calves and the arches of your feet. You writhe at each searing touch, the clamps jerking with each movement and bringing a delicious feeling of pain and pleasure each time. 

Your clit was swollen and begging for attention and all you wanted was for Xavier to put his mouth on you and lick you till you screamed his name in ecstasy. Almost as if he’d sensed this, he gives you a wicked grin from between your legs. “Not yet my little star. There’s still so much I want to do to you.” Leaning over you he reaches for the velvet pouch containing the restraints. 

He drags the smooth velvet over your belly teasingly, watching the skin quiver under the action, then down your legs, hovering over your inner thighs. The tickling sensation breaks your stillness and you gasp, toes curling in response as he creeps downwards. He delicately lifts your foot, creating a loop with the fabric, and securing it to the bedpost. He repeats the action on your other foot and your wrists until you're lying spreadeagled on the bed, your legs completely open to his mercy. 

The clamps shift as he finishes tying you, now splayed in opposite directions, pulling on your nipples and creating a new wave of need shooting through your body. You whimper at the utterly helpless position he’s left you in as he strokes your mound and then spreads apart your lips to reveal the swollen little bud at the top of your folds.

“Perfect. All sweet and ripe for the taking.” Without warning he licks a line through your folds and you squeal, straining at your restraints which hold you firmly in place as he has his way with you. You moan, barely able to move your hips to your satisfaction as Xavier sucks your clit into his mouth, wet little noises escaping the seal of his lips as he feasts. The air fills with your cries and just as you feel a particularly delicious spasm ripple through you, Xavier withdraws, leaving you panting and trying to bring him back to you wildly. You felt bereft, the absence almost unbearable. 

You turn your head to look at Xavier, confusion in your eyes, which then widen as you see him reach for the U-shaped toy. He strokes your cheek and gives you a quick, sensual, kiss on the lips. His long fingers probe at your entrance, testing your wetness before slipping a digit inside to ensure you’re prepared for what's to come. There’s no resistance, and he’s pleased to find only slick heat enveloping his finger. Confident now, he positions himself between your legs and begins to insert the toy. 

A primal noise of need escapes your lips as you feel the toy inside you, then with a little maneuvering, you feel the other curved end slide over your puffy clit, fitting inside the opening you had observed. You wait with bated breath, then gasp as Xavier turns it on. The toy buzzes to life inside you, drawing a low moan from you as you feel a mild suction on your clit. Experimentally, Xavier pushes the rubber button on the vibrator until it kicks up a few levels and your voice keens as the internal and external stimulation hits a point of perfection. 

“Is that enough?” Xavier’s voice cuts through the haze of sexual need in your brain as he watches your face. You manage a nod, your mouth hanging open as you try to breathe through the amazing sensations that are spreading through your body. Your eyes closed in ecstasy, feeling overwhelmed by what was happening. The combination of the pressure on your clit and nipples, plus the feeling of losing control, of being held down like prey while Xavier watched you come undone was unbearably arousing. 

Your eyes crack open, and your heart nearly stops as you see he’s removed his clothes, and stroking himself while watching you. You moan at the sight of his cock, your mouth watering.

“Do you want a taste?” He asks teasingly, and you nod, feeling like you need something in your mouth to ground you. He moves closer and gently lifts your head so that you can take him into your mouth. He hisses as your lips close around him, the soft wetness feeling exquisite on his heated flesh. You suck him for comfort, trying to focus on your orgasm. Xavier takes deep calming breaths, not using you, but seemingly content to watch you struggle in the throes of passion. He feels you back up suddenly, a muffled cry emanating from within, and realizes you’re on the edge. He pulls out of your mouth just in time for an animalistic noise of satisfaction to shudder free, watching you greedily as your whole body shakes as the orgasm grips you.

You writhe on the bed as gratifying pleasure fills you, radiating from your core and causing your clit and hole to spasm delightfully as it happens. Xavier watches and quickly pumps himself, the thought of how those spasms in your pussy might feel on his cock. As your moans die down he moves, still stroking himself, and gets the toy out of your pussy. He groans as he kneels between your legs.

“Where do you want it?” he asks in a breathless whisper, and your eyes meet his in a hazy glance. 

“On my clit…please…” you say in a breathy voice and that sends him hurdling over the edge. He lets out a gasp as his cock twitches in his hand, then aims it between your folds, watching his thick seed fall onto your swollen clit, messily cascading down onto the sheets. You hum in satisfaction as the warm liquid slides over you, then look up adoringly at Xavier.

“How do you feel?” he asks, holding his now spent erection. 

“It was amazing Xavier.” You admit dreamily, then giggle as he leans over you to remove the nipple clamps, feeling them tingle as the circulation returns. 

“Give me a minute, and I’ll put on the grand finale,” he says with enthusiasm, and you can’t help but grin at the promise. “Merry Christmas my little star.”

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @supernaturalbaesduh @ladyparamount

[milkteabinniechan]

♡Dear Lover - Hyunjin

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: fiancè Hyunjin x fem! reader

summary: Your parents have picked a husband for your sister and the two of them have been writing love letters back and forth for years before they meet on their wedding day. There is just one problem: you've been the one sending the letters to her future husband and now you're in love!

warnings: just fluff! some angst, drama, very soft hyunjin, lovesick reader

“Maybe start with why you were the one writing me the letters and not your sister?” Hyunjin’s nostrils flared as he spoke. But his tone wasn’t angry, just confused. You looked exactly how he pictured you from your letters. A softness about you that translated through your words.

“She asked me to. In the beginning, she didn’t want to write to you. So, she asked me to do it instead to make our parents happy.” You pulled at the hem of your shirt, twisting it this way and that while your eyes stayed fixed on the ground. “Please, don't be upset with her.”

Hyunjin stepped back for a moment. His eyes searched yours as the two of you finally locked onto one another. Eyes that he had pictured late at night. A face he had only seen in his dreams. Everything he had said in the letter was true. He was in love, just not with your sister. But the wedding was planned, the invitations sent out.

It was springtime when the letters first began. You remember the sound of birds chirping outside your bedroom window when your parents made the announcement that your sister was to be wed on the year of her 21st birthday.

“But I don’t want to marry someone I’ve never met!” She screamed. You were only partially paying attention. You were no longer the focus of your parents' attention. You were twenty-four now and practically a spinster. Your sister was going to have her wedding the very next spring. One year. She had one year to comply and accept what was happening.

“We’ve already failed with your older sister, we will not fail with you.” Your father boomed. His fat finger pointed sternly at you.

While your little sister protested for a few weeks, she ultimately agreed upon the marriage if she could at least see who she was to be betrothed to. But letters are all his family would agree to. A stern, traditional family that negotiated the terms of advised letters to be written once a week for one year until the wedding day. Meetings were held in secret by the patriarchs of the two families. Hands were shook and large cigars were smoked in celebration of the upcoming union. Then one cool spring night, your sister came knocking at your door with a favor to ask.

“You’re a writer. Just write the letters for me and make me sound good okay?” She begged, her hands folding together while her eyes pleaded with you.

Reluctantly you agreed. One week after the other, you tried your best to sound like your sister. You wrote about her interests instead of your own. You included her favorite color and her favorite kind of food. But somewhere down the line, you slipped. Hyunjin had written about a favorite book of yours – Little Women. He had written paragraphs discussing the different characters and the depth of their description and diversity from one another. He had gushed about the writing style and the eloquent use of simile and metaphors. And your heart fluttered, fluttered and flipped in a way that was new and exciting. Your next letter was completely you. It was your voice, your thoughts, your ideas. The words just flowed out of you like wine and you would feel almost drunk by the time you signed your sister’s name at the bottom.

Hyunjin would soon write about more personal subjects; his fears and insecurities. Of which you felt a kinship with. You would respond with words of comfort and love, thanking him for being so open and vulnerable with you. You would tell him about a beautiful sunset you saw or the lovely sound that snow made when you take a step early in the morning. Hyunjin would tell you how ready he was to hear that sound. How eager he was to hold you, to hear your laugh and touch your lips at last-

When everything was said and done, you knew the exact moment that things had gone too far. You had said “I love you” in your final letter before the wedding. Hyunjin had responded that he was on his way and that he “loved you more that there were stars in the sky.”

You held that last letter tightly in your hands as the all black town car pulled into the driveway of your family home. You would see him, finally see him, and he would see you. Only you would be a shadow cast behind your sister. Hyunjin could never know that those words were not hers. He would marry her and you would go back to your life before. As Hyunjin slowly stepped out of the car, the sunlight shone through his hair like a beacon. His forearm flexed as he gripped the car door and closed it behind him. He stood still for a moment, his eyes flicking between you and your sister until his gaze finally landed on you. Your sister hastily stepped in front of you and introduced herself. Hyunjin shook his head for a second to break the stare between the two of you before smiling warmly at your sister. He held her tightly, his long arms sweeping around her waist and pulling her close to his chest.

“I am so happy to meet you in person, my love!” He exclaimed, his hand coming up to cradle your sister’s face.

Dinner was a complete blur. The clanking sound of silverware and glasses swirled around your ears while your mind drifted further and further from the dining room. The voices of your family were distant, just an echo of a sound as you attempted to keep your food down. After dinner, Hyunjin and your sister snuck off somewhere in the house to be alone. You made your way up to your room and lied on your bed, willing your brain to erase the last year so the heaviness in your chest would subside.

“Fine! Okay? I didn’t write those stupid letters! But that doesn’t mean anything, right?” your sister shouted from the other side of the wall. You stayed in bed and made your way to the wall that divided your two rooms to see if you could hear anything. “She’s a loser! You don’t want her!” Your sister screamed.

“If she is the one that wrote all those letters, then I do. I do want her.”

Your heart dropped. You moved your head away from the wall and turned to face your bedroom door as you heard footsteps approach.

“Please, don’t be upset with her.”

“I’m not upset with her.” Hyunjin took a step closer, closing the gap between the two of you. “You look just as I imagined.” He whispered, his breath brushing softly against your neck.

Your breath hitched as he moved closer. Your hands move instinctively to his waist. Your hips coming into contact with his as his hands move down your back and come to rest at your sides. He leans into your ear and speaks in a low tone. A secret shared just between the two of you. Something intimate that nothing in this world could penetrate. “You’re the one I want to marry. You’re the bride I have been waiting for.”

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25 @queen-in-the-shadows @itgirlalisaa @miinhoo @greyaia @chanchansgirly @skzleeknowcore @skz-smut-reader @thatisrankharry @hearts4yawnzzn @jchotch726 @cherricola-star @minh0scat

[reidsdimples]

Seven Minutes in Heaven

Spencer Reid x Reader (BAU!Reader)

18+ ❤️‍🔥 MDNI

in which you’re shoved into a closet for a fun little game of seven minutes in heaven with your work crush Spencer.

The team is gathered at Rossi’s while he makes some authentic Italian cuisine that you can’t remember how to pronounce. You’re with the girls, talking about JJ and Will and Penelope and Kevin, when they ask you if there’s someone you’re interest in.

Your eyes swim to the other side of the room where Spencer is helping Rossi chop some vegetables.

“Not really,” you drop your gaze.

“Mhmm,” Emily hums sarcastically.

“Just tell him,” JJ nudges you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie.

“My smartest love!” Penelope calls to Spence. “Come here!”

No no no. Your cheeks flame, you beg whatever god is above to spare you from what they were about to do. The wine had gone to their heads.

Spence washes his hands and walks over while drying them on a towel, you watch the movements closely. You fantasized far too often about those damned hands.

He takes long strides towards you, that dark purple button down fitting his skin body perfectly. You catch yourself staring and look anywhere else.

“You’ve been dragged into our game,” Penelope purses her lip.

“What game?” He looks intrigued.

“Truth or dare but right now the dare is seven minutes in heaven,” Penelope says. At that JJ and Emily light up.

“Yeah,” Emily nods.

“What’s that?” He tilts his head. You’re horrified, there’s not way they’re doing this to you.

“Did I hear were playing seven minutes in heaven?” Derek slides into your little group.

“Guys, keep it clean,” Hotch warns.

“I don’t even wanna know,” Rossi laughs but continues to cook.

“Okay! All but Rossi are in,” Penelope chirps.

“What’s the premise of the game?” Spencer asks again.

“The group selects a couple to go into a dark closet for seven minutes,” JJ smiles and sips her drink.

“For what purpose?” He asks. Derek claps him on the back and leans down to whisper in his ear. His eyes widen and color stains his cheeks.

You’re pretty sure you couldn’t press yourself further into the wall if you tried.

“Anyway we were playing truth or dare and I dared Y/N to play seven minutes in heaven with you,” Penelope tells him. His hazel eyes dart over to yours where your hand is covering your face.

The girls give you wicked smiles.

“Okay?” He raises his eyebrows suspiciously.

“Go on lover boy,” Derek urges and he’s leading Spencer to a walk in closet in Rossi’s guest room.

“All of you are dead to me,” you bite out as JJ ushers you in behind him.

The door snaps shut and you’re plunged onto complete darkness.

The room outside of the closet goes silent.

Your ears burn, your body tenses as you listen for Spence who moves next to you.

“Why did they pick me specifically?” He asks, of course he asks.

“No idea,” you lie. “But we don’t have to do anything.”

“Timer starts now!” Emily yells and you hear the bedroom door shut too.

Your body hums as Spencer steps closer to you.

“I can’t see you, it’s hard to profile you in the dark. My guess from your rapid breathing and fidgeting though is that you’re hoping something happens,” he speaks lowly.

“What if I do?” You decide to be brave.

The feeling of being so close to him in utter darkness is exciting and hot as hell. You were aware of his every movement and as your eyes adjusted, you could see him. Not very clearly but he was right in front of you.

“I’d be okay with that,” he exhales a shaky breath.

You place a hand on his chest and run your finger down to his waist band where his shirt is tucked in. You pull him closer to you and lean up. He slowly and clumsy finds your lips in the dark.

His hands grip your hips as your tongue starts to explore his mouth. The taste of wine lingers between you, making him taste sweet. The softness of his lips and feeling of his hands on your body make you moan into his mouth.

You’re pleasantly surprised to feel his erection grow in his pants so you hurriedly undo his belt.

“What are you gonna…” he asks.

“I just want you, Spence,” you whisper. You’re thankful for the darkness of the space, it’s making you more bold.

You wrap your hand around his silky skin and pump him gently. A small moan escapes him and he’s running his hands up your skirt.

“We have to be quick,” you say after kissing him again. He nods. “Sit, against the wall,” you usher him to the back wall.

He obliges as you step out of your panties and shove them into your pocket. He’s looking up at you from the floor, his cock hard as he registers what you’re about to do. You stand over him and lower yourself slowly, teasingly. He bites his lip in anticipation. You’d been wanting to sit on his cock for months.

You straddle his waist and reach down to line his cock up with your entrance. You slide down on it with a restrained moan. Taking him felt like finally getting everything you’d been missing. The whimpering that escaped him awoke something inside of you that you’d long lost.

“You’re so wet,” he whispers in awe and grips your ass.

“I told you I wanted you,” you smirk and start riding him.

He throws his head back as though in disbelief of how good it feels. You’re wound so tight from the excitement and anticipation of the ordeal that you know you could cum at any second. Something about the team being just two doors aware adding an extra thrill to what you were doing.

“4 Minutes!” Someone yells, you don’t register who.

You wrap your arms around Spence’s neck and ride him until his clawing at your back and digging his nails into the flesh of your ass. You inhale his fresh scent, one you’d always been fond of but now it’s mixed with something else. Like you can smell his arousal, it’s addicting.

“So tight, I’m gonna..” he groans.

“Shhh.”

You rock your hips, feeling him as deep as possible while your clit rubs against his lower abdomen. You lean down and kiss his neck, before probably stretching the collar of his shirt to access his shoulder.

Your orgasm seizes you and you’re biting down on that sweet spot where his neck meets his shoulder. You suck on his soft skin hard, needing to taste him while you fall over the edge.

A loud groaning sound begins to escape him and you clamp your hand over his mouth. Your pussy clenches around him as you move, taking in the delicious feeling of cumming around him. It’s better than you ever thought it would be. Especially when his cock twitches and he’s biting down on your palm to cum with you. You feel his hard cock throb and his massive amount of cum starts pouring out of you, around him.

It’s messier than you hoped but it’s so fucking hot, it feels so good as you grind down onto him on last time to enjoy the feeling.

“Is that okay?” He pants, clarity returning.

“Yeah I’m on birth control,” you swallow and move off of him.

“It’s been a while since I..”

“Me too,” you sigh. You didn’t want him to feel bad for cumming so much, you fucking loved it.

He stands and you stop him from pulling his pants back up. You clean up the mess on him with your underwear and shove them back into your pocket.

“Thanks,” he huffs a shy laugh before tucking himself back into his pants.

“I’m gonna need to go to the restroom to…”

“Yeah…” he sucks air through his teeth in an ‘oops’ kind of way.

“One minute!” It’s Derek who yells it.

You grab Spencer’s shirt and pull him into a kiss, one that he smiles into.

You help him adjust his collar and fix both of your hair before opening the closet. Heat seems to roll out of it and you’re sure it smells like sex. You’re just grateful the team is in the living room when Garcia screams that time is up.

Spencer steps out of the room first, his head down as he b-lines for the kitchen.

You hear Derek stop him as you hurry to the bathroom to clean up.

“Okay I dare Hotch to eat an entire pickle!” Emily says. He protests because he hates pickles.

“What happens in the closet stays in the closet,” is all you say when they turn their attention towards you.

Spencer is back in the kitchen helping Rossi cook.

“Yeah, keep it in that closet. I don’t want to fill out any unnecessary fraternization paper work,” Hotch grins.

“I’ll cheers to that!” Rossi calls and raises him glass.

You all clink glasses, Spencer’s eyes meet yours and he smiles shyly.

[kayewrite]

Blue Sticky Note

straykids fic wherein a mysterious note confession appears in your binder. Unsure of who left it, you embark on an investigation among your eight close friends, each with their own quirks and possibilities.

genre: Fluff. and fluff

ot8 x reader! stray kids x reader!! word count: 3.3k

AN: i want to make a fic with multiple members in it but i might make more of it after i finished all individual members. btw can you teach me how tumblr works? i might pin a masterlist soon hehe

You just got back to your apartment after a long day of classes. Exhausted from wrestling with numbers and equations, you flopped down on your bed and closed your eyes.

But your moment of peace was interrupted by the sudden ringing of your phone.

“Hey,” your friend Seungmin’s voice greeted you through the speaker.

Used to how he always greeted you, you sighed and listened as he continued, your tiredness making it hard to focus.

“You didn’t turn in your literature assignment. I’m on my way to your building,” he said, causing you to bolt upright in surprise.

You had forgotten to give it to him during class earlier. Glad he reminded you. And you were glad to be friends with him because he was the class representative. You enjoyed a lot of benefits from being his friend.

“Okay, thanks for the reminder. No need to come up—I’ll meet you downstairs,” you replied before ending the call.

Grateful for Seungmin’s help, you quickly gathered your things and checked your binder for the assignment. You sighed in relief when you found it. “I thought I lost you.”

As you were about to close your binder, a flash of blue caught your eye. A blue sticky note on the front page—one that you definitely didn’t own.

You pulled it out and read the message, which made your heart skip a beat: “I like you. But i you only see me as a friend.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d received a confession, but this note felt different. There was a mystery to it that intrigued you.

Confusion swirled in your mind as you tried to piece together who might have left this note. The message was neatly written in capital letters, offering no clues about the writer's identity.

Who could it be?

You had a lot of friends, but who might have done this?

You had male friends, all of whom felt like brothers to you. Could it be one of them? But they were like family.

The note was a sweet but outdated way to confess—charming in its own way but not something you’d expect from anyone in particular. You read it again and again, hoping to find a hint about who it might be from. But aside from the neat handwriting on a blue sticky note, you found nothing.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell ringing. You immediately sprang out of bed, remembering Seungmin.

“I’m sorry,” you said, peeking through the door.

“It’s okay,” he smiled reassuringly. “I know you were tired, so I decided to come up.”

“Oh, thanks,” you replied, quickly picking up some clothes that were strewn on the floor. You grabbed your assignment and saw the sticky note again, hastily hiding it by placing a book on top.

As you handed over your paper, you decided to test the waters, curious about who the note could be from. “Do you own any sticky notes?” you asked casually.

Seungmin’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

“I was taking notes and thought I might need some,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“You have plenty already,” he said, gesturing to the stack of colorful sticky notes on your study table. “And no, I don’t have any. I keep running out of them. I should buy more.”

He glanced at his watch and then looked back at you, his eyes full of concern. “I should go now. You should continue resting, and don’t forget to eat.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. President,” you said, a playful tone in your voice.

“No problem. Take care and always lock your doors. Bye, see you tomorrow.”

Before he left, Seungmin ruffled your hair affectionately.

As the door closed behind him, you found yourself staring at the sticky note again, your mind racing. If it was Seungmin who left the note, did he feel that way about you? His caring nature and playful attitude seemed to match the tone of the note, but could he really be the one?

Then again, what if it wasn’t him? You couldn’t jump to conclusions based solely on a sticky note.

You took a deep breath, trying to push the thoughts aside. Until you had more evidence, you couldn’t be certain. You needed to consider all possibilities before drawing any conclusions.

Sticky notes and neat penmanship alone weren’t enough to figure out who left the note. Everyone in your class had decent handwriting, and blue sticky notes were too common to offer any real clue. They were practically identical—anyone could have bought them. It wasn't unique, not even close.

So who could it be?

"What are you thinking about?"

You were lost in thought when a voice pulled you back to reality. You looked up to see who it was.

"Uh, nothing," you replied, somewhat startled.

It was Changbin.

He was a friend of yours, though vastly different from Seungmin. If Seungmin was a green flag, then Changbin was the complete opposite—a walking red flag who had a reputation for playing with people’s hearts.

"Let me copy your physics assignment," he demanded more than asked, flashing you a grin that was both charming and mischievous.

Changbin had that bad-boy aura, and you sometimes wondered how you two even became friends. But one thing was certain: he couldn’t be the one who left that sticky note in your binder. When Changbin liked someone, he didn’t shy away from telling them directly. He would flirt openly, not leave anonymous notes.

So no, it wasn’t him.

"Why should I?" you replied nonchalantly. You were used to his antics, which might be one of the reasons why you were friends.

"Because I’m cute, and after class, I’ll buy you your favorite toothpaste-flavored ice cream," he teased.

"It’s not toothpaste! It’s mint chocolate!" you corrected, rolling your eyes.

"My bad," he smirked, unfazed. "Now, let me copy."

Too tired to argue further, you handed him your assignment. Changbin eagerly started copying, his focus entirely on the task at hand.

As you watched him scribble down your answers, you noticed his messy handwriting. There was no way it could have been him—the note’s handwriting was neat and careful, the opposite of his chaotic scrawl.

"You really have terrible handwriting. What are you, a kid? It looks like a storm blew through it," you teased, watching him.

"If I had more time, I could make it look like it was printed with a font," he shot back, not looking up. "But since the prof will be here in a few minutes, I don’t care what you say. Now, shush."

You let him finish copying, trying not to overthink the situation again, when suddenly he pulled out a blue sticky note from his bag.

"I almost forgot to give this to you," he said, handing it to you slowly. "It’s the address for the party this weekend. You should come. If I don’t see even a glimpse of you, I won’t enjoy it."

Surprised, you stared at the sticky note in his hand. It was the same color and size as the one you found in your binder. Why would he have this?

Seeing that you weren’t taking it, he grinned mischievously and stuck it to your forehead, laughing at your shocked expression.

Could it be him?

But…

You glanced at the two sticky notes in your hand, comparing them as you strolled through the expansive university yard.

Confessing like this wasn’t his style.

So it couldn’t be, right?

But the sticky notes were identical—the same length, the same height. Plain as they were, they were unmistakably the same.

Yet, you remembered how he would laugh if he knew someone confessed like this. He’d call it plain, boring, and probably mock the person as weak.

You shook off the thought, placing the sticky notes back in your binder and hugging it to your chest, forcing your mind to focus on your lessons.

"Hey, monkey!" You halted mid-step, rolling your eyes at the familiar voice and nickname.

"What?" you snapped, turning to face him.

"So you really accept now that you’re a monkey?" he teased, laughing. It was Minho.

Your friend (well, sort of?). In your group, you were like a cat and dog—he was the cat, and according to him, you were the dog because your face reminded him of one.

Despite the constant teasing, you appreciated how he looked out for you and was always there when you needed him.

But what did he just say?

"I'm not in the mood to fight with you," you muttered. On a normal day, you would have started bickering with him, refusing to back down until he surrendered (yes, like kids). "What are you, a chicken?"

"Oh, you noticed my hair. Do you like it?" he winked.

"You look like a rooster." His hair was dyed orange, and although he didn’t look like a rooster, you wanted to get back at him.

"That's better than being a monkey," he grinned.

"Crazy."

The two of you walked together, talking about random things with the usual bickering sprinkled in. Then, you remembered the sticky note. You knew it wasn’t from him because, well, why would it be?

Still, you decided to show it to him.

"Who do you think did this?" you asked, handing him the note.

He read it aloud, the words dripping with sarcasm, "That’s the cringiest thing I’ve ever read in my whole life."

Just as you expected.

"You shouldn’t say that! He must’ve gathered a lot of courage to do this."

"Why wouldn’t he just tell you in person? Is he weak?" Minho scoffed, lowering his voice when he saw you weren’t amused.

"Maybe he didn’t want to ruin our friendship."

"Then he shouldn’t have liked you in the first place."

"Can we control our feelings? It’s hard, you know!" You rolled your eyes. "Why am I even telling you this? You don’t understand anything," you mumbled, though loud enough for him to hear. "Anyway, I should go. I have something to do at the library."

"I like you."

You froze in your tracks at his words.

"That’s what he should do! It’s really easy, you know," he said, smirking before suddenly sprinting off in the opposite direction.

What was that?

Confused by Minho's words, you made your way to the library, replaying the conversation in your mind.

"What was that? Does he like me, or was he just using it as an example?"

You tried to shrug off the thought as you arrived at the library. The familiar scent of books enveloped you, a comforting distraction.

At the librarian's desk, you spotted Han, your friend who worked there as a student assistant.

"Oh, what brings you here?" he greeted you with a smile, lowering his voice in contrast to Minho’s usual volume.

"Hello. I’m returning this book." You handed him the physics book you had been hugging to your chest.

"Already? Are you sure you’re done with it? It’s okay if you missed the deadline. You know I can always talk to the senior librarian for you," Han offered, his tone warm and reassuring.

If you were to consider another suspect in your mystery investigation, Han would be a possibility. You’d never questioned how he took care of you before, but now, as you tried to solve this puzzle, you began to wonder.

Could he like you?

Or were you just overthinking things?

No, you shouldn’t read too much into Han’s actions. Like Seungmin, he was someone who genuinely cared for the people he loved.

"No, it’s okay. I’m done with it. Thank you, Han. And thanks for the offer—I might take you up on that one day and maybe never return the book," you joked, earning a laugh from him.

"Now I should go. I need to meet Hyunjin—he asked me for a favor."

"Sure! Take care!"

"Thanks. You too."

As you left the library, you felt a hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. Turning around, you saw Han, slightly out of breath.

"Hey, was this yours? You forgot it," he said, handing you the sticky note.

You didn’t know how it ended up with him, but you quickly took it and placed it in your binder.

"Oh, thanks."

"No worries. That was a cute confession," he said, still catching his breath, then laughed. "I should get back—lots of work to do."

You nodded, watching as he returned to the library.

A question formed in your mind: Was it Han?

Why didn’t he ask who wrote it?

Why wasn’t he curious?

But then, he did ask if it was yours, as if he didn’t know.

So maybe… it wasn’t him.

"You literally owe me for this one," you whined, though you knew you didn’t have much of a choice as you glanced at your friend Hyunjin, a med student with an ever-present smile.

"Yes, I promise I'll buy you whatever you want," he said, clasping his hands together in gratitude, his eyes gleaming with a sincerity that made it hard to stay annoyed. You sighed, relenting, and extended your arm.

He needed a blood sample for one of his "you-don’t-know-the-details" assignments, and apparently, you were exactly what he needed.

Like a seasoned pro, he pricked the needle into your skin and attached a small hose to collect your blood. It wasn’t the first time you’d been his willing guinea pig, but you couldn’t say no to Hyunjin.

"Thank you," he said earnestly after he was done.

"Right. You should be thankful," you retorted with a mock glare, though you couldn’t help but smile when he laughed.

Hyunjin had the most stereotypical 'doctor-y' penmanship you’d ever seen—impossible to decipher, even as you watched him scribble something in his records.

"By the way, I left a note before in your binder," he said casually.

His words rang in your ears. "What note?"

He smirked, clearly enjoying the suspense. "A note about how you should remember to take the vitamins I gave you."

Oh.

Seeing you internalize his words, he added, "And I noticed another note in there." He adjusted his white coat, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "And I know who put it there."

You looked up at him, curiosity written all over your face as he towered over you.

"And you should find that out on your own," he teased, winking before walking away, leaving you with more questions than answers.

"Why’d you call me here?" Jeongin asked as he walked into the coffee shop, a guitar slung over his back.

"Because I promised to buy you coffee," you replied with a smile.

Jeongin was a year younger than you, a music major who could play practically any instrument, though piano was his favorite.

"Really? But I’m not craving coffee right now. You should buy me a meal. I’m hungry," he said, not even trying to be cute but somehow managing to be utterly adorable.

As per his request, the two of you headed to a nearby restaurant. You let him order whatever he wanted and watched as he dug into his food.

"You must’ve been really hungry," you remarked.

"I didn’t have lunch or dinner yet," he admitted between bites.

"You shouldn’t skip meals like that! Our bodies are our main investment. We need to take care of them," you scolded, playing the role of the older sibling.

"I know, Mom," he teased.

"Good son," you laughed.

"Are you going to Changbin’s party?" he asked after stuffing more food into his mouth. You took a sip of your strawberry latte, considering your answer.

"I don’t know. I’m kinda busy."

He got back to eating, and you hesitated, feeling a question bubbling up inside you. It felt awkward, but you knew you wouldn’t be at peace until you asked.

"Uh, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"You're already doing it," he said, his mouth still half-full.

"Let me finish!," you squinted at him. "This question is kinda weird, but…"

"Faster! I’m curious!" He leaned in slightly, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Uh, do you know if anyone who’s close to us… erm…" You coughed, trying to find the right words. "…likes me? I mean, like, likes me?"

Jeongin looked up at the ceiling, thinking. "I don’t know who, but I know everyone loves you."

Well, that much was true—friendship came naturally with your group.

"And me too. I love you," he added casually.

"Aw, thank you. I love you too."

He didn’t reply, just smiled at you for a moment before turning back to his meal, leaving you with a warm feeling that was hard to shake.

"I'm so tired of that neighbor of mine!" Felix, a friend who lived three floors above you, burst into your apartment wearing pajamas and hugging his pillow.

"You can’t sleep again?" you asked, watching as he plopped down onto your sofa bed with a dramatic sigh.

"I don’t know what the hell he’s doing in the middle of the night! Was he doing construction or something?" he whined, making himself comfortable. "Oh, this is so comfortable. Let me crash here."

It wasn’t the first time he’d crashed at your place, so you were used to it. You didn’t mind at all.

"Did I bother you?" he asked, his head still buried in the pillow.

"Never."

"I should really move to this floor. It’s so peaceful."

"You could always move into my apartment and be my roommate," you suggested, a plan you’d considered before.

"No way. Someone might get angry."

"Who would that be?"

Felix didn’t answer, his silence leaving the question hanging in the air. You thought he might be teasing, but his continued silence suggested otherwise.

"And I don’t think I could handle living with you," he added.

"Why’s that?"

Once again, he didn’t respond.

"You should get some sleep. It’s past midnight," you said, heading toward your room.

As you were about to close the door, Felix called out, "I know about the blue sticky note in your binder."

You stopped in your tracks.

"Keep it, okay?" he said with a knowing smile before burying himself back into the pillow.

You wanted to ask more, but Felix seemed to be done with the conversation. With a curious mind, you went to bed, pondering over his cryptic words.

“Chan, did you really make this?” you asked, your voice brimming with excitement as you listened intently.

He nodded, a broad grin spreading across his face as he observed your reaction.

“This is the best music I’ve ever heard!” you exclaimed, pressing the earphones deeper into your ears.

“Oh, of course you’d say that because I’m your friend,” Chan said with a chuckle.

“No, I’m serious!” you replied, though you could only read his lips. The music’s high volume made it difficult to hear clearly. “This is amazing!”

“Yeah, that’s Han in the background and Changbin rapping.”

You bobbed your head along with the beats, completely immersed in the music Chan had created.

“Was Jeongin in it?” you asked, recognizing a familiar voice.

“Yes, and Hyunjin, Felix, Minho, and Seungmi—”

“This part is definitely Seungmin!” you shouted, and Chan laughed at your enthusiasm.

You continued listening, enjoying every note until the very last one, which was a soft piano melody.

“Wow, that was beautiful! I still can’t believe my friend created this. It’s a masterpiece.”

“Oh, thanks. That’s a great compliment from the person the song was inspired by,” Chan said with a knowing smile.

You didn’t catch that last part, too absorbed in the music to fully register his words.

“What’s the title of the song?” you asked, still in awe.

“Blue Sticky Note.”

The title made you stop dead in your tracks. Chan’s gaze lingered on you with an unreadable expression, as if he knew something you didn’t.

The realization hit you—the lyrics, the melody, everything about the song—

We’ve been friends for so long, shared laughter and tears,

But there’s something more inside, I’ve held back for years.

So I turned our feelings into a song, hoping you’d see,

How much you mean to me, how much you mean to me.

Oh, blue sticky note, you’re my secret, my confession,

Wrapped in notes and beats, my heart’s true expression.

In every verse, in every line, it’s you I adore,

From a simple blue sticky note to a melody I’m pouring out.

it was all connected to the note you had hidden in your binder.

part 2 here!

[zepskies]

Wake Me Up - Part 2

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: Thank you so much for your lovely responses on Part 1! Last week's angst was very physical. Now let's get into emotional...

Song Inspo: “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers.

Word Count: 6.4K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, PSTD, hurt/comfort, medical trauma and injuries…and a bit of Nurse Benjamin? lol

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 2: “All in Your Eyes”

At first, it was all shapeless color.

It felt like a small eternity before your vision cleared, and you dimly became aware of being in a hospital room. Your steady heartbeat clipped away on the monitor.

You had an IV in your hand and wires suction-cupped to your chest. Your raggedy clothes had been replaced with a blue paper gown, hidden under the blankets keeping you warm.

It was a slow process, and it hurt, but you managed to turn your head. You saw a man sitting in the corner with a laptop balanced on his lap. He typed with two fingers at a time, which reminded you of your grandfather. His brown hair fell over his furrowed brows, but his beard was well-trimmed.

His head soon rose, possibly feeling the weight of your gaze. His eyes widened a fraction, and he hastily closed the laptop and set it down on his seat before he went to you. You frowned when he came to sit at your bedside, and even touched your cheek with a gentle hand.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth. “How’re you feeling?”

You didn’t have the energy to lean away from his hand, but you did give him a look of weary confusion.

“I…I don’t…who are you?” you asked.

His green eyes went blank for a moment. His hand fell from your cheek. 

Then he chuckled in disbelief.

“Eyes are barely open, and already you’re fucking around,” he said.

That confused you even more. You were saved from answering, however, when there came a knock at the door. A blonde young woman peeked in. She brightened with a shocked, but happy smile when she saw you were awake.

“Hey! Oh my God, you’re awake,” she whispered in excitement. She went to your bed on the other side and picked up your hand. It took you a moment to remember her name, but you did recognize her.

“A-Annie? What…what happened?” you asked. You didn’t recognize the roughness in your own voice.

Annie shared a sobered look with the man sitting beside you, and she looked down at you again.

“Oh, hun. What do you remember?” she said.

You tried hard to think…but you couldn’t. It was all blurry and muddled in your mind.

Then, it was incredibly painful. A sharp, piercing pain that permeated through your skull and rattled down your spine, waking up the rest of your body in the worst of ways.

You whimpered, and the monitor began to beep more incessantly as your heart rate began to climb. You uttered a cry of pain while you held your aching head. You felt the gauze wrapped across your temples, forehead, and under your chin, half-covering your face.

The man turned to Annie with an angry frown.

“Get the goddamn doctor!” he snapped. But he reached for your closest hand and held it gently. He met your tearful eyes. Part of him didn’t know quite how to comfort you though. His eyes flit over your pained face, the way you were gripping your head with one hand.

He brushed his thumb over the one he held.

“…It’s okay, I got you,” he said eventually. “Just breathe.”

You couldn’t respond. There was too much pain, too much confusion. The last thing you saw was the worry in his eyes, before your head fell back against your pillow.

Your world faded away once again.

Dr. Helen Jeong, the neurologist Grace hired specifically to attend you, had been with you for a while. When she came out, Ben, Annie, your mother Marie, your sister Louisa, and the rest of the team (except for Butcher) were in the waiting room. All of them wanted to hear how you were doing, as well as the doctor’s prognosis.

Ben stood with his arms crossed, and Marie and Louisa followed suit. Technically, Marie was your next of kin, considering you and Ben weren’t married. She was close to tears again, but Louisa was supporting her.

“She’ll need a few more tests to confirm, but it looks like dissociative amnesia,” said Dr. Jeong. “It could be selective. Meaning, she remembers parts of her life, but not others, specifically tied to the past few days and the past year.”

“And me,” said Ben. He was frowning angrily. “Why doesn’t she remember me?”

She gave him a patient look.

“Her skull is fractured, but she’s also gone through an emotional trauma, as well as a physical one," she said. "The memories she’s lost are likely linked to that trauma, and so, her brain is trying to block out anything related to that painful time. It’s the body’s way of coping.”

Somehow, that explanation didn’t make it any better. Something dark and unfamiliar had been churning in Ben’s gut for days, but now he was forced to reckon with it.

It was guilt, and it was eating at his insides, clawing up to his throat. He covered it up with a hot layer of anger.

“Aside from time to heal from her injuries, it’s important that she be taken care of in a familiar, low-stress environment,” said Dr. Jeong. She aimed that last bit at Ben.

“How long until she’s better?” Louisa asked. “Will her memories come back at all?”

Ben shot her a dark look for even asking that question, but the doctor bobbed her head.

“It may take a while. Weeks, or even months, but have patience with her. As she heals, and with therapy, her memories should come back eventually,” she said. She gave Ben in particular a more reassuring glance.

He wasn’t interested in being reassured. He wanted results.

The doctor moved on so she could schedule an MRI for you, among other tests. Annie went over and laid a tentative hand on Ben’s arm. He glared at her touch and slid his gaze over to her.

“Look, we’re here for her…and for you,” she said. Even though she withdrew her hand, she looked sincere. “Whatever she needs, just let us know.”

Hughie was just behind her with a sympathetic look of agreement. M.M., Kimiko, and Frenchie were quietly supportive, if somber. You’d recognized Annie and Hughie earlier, but the others were strangers to you as well—likely because you’d met the other two at Supe Affairs, before you took on one fateful mission that would lead you to Ben. And him to you.

He let out a breath and gave Annie a minimal nod.

She smiled a little, and she and Hughie went back into your room to say goodbye for now. They promised to come back and visit, along with the others.

Meanwhile, Marie and Louisa were talking quietly. Ben’s ears perked up to it.

“I think she should come stay with you, Mom, until she’s better,” Louisa said.

When Ben heard that, he approached them. His darker frown was back in place.

“She’s coming home with me,” he said, in a tone that boded no argument. He should have remembered that your sister was too much like you sometimes. Fucking stubborn.

“If she doesn’t know you, she’s not going to be comfortable with you,” Louisa pointed out.

Marie gave her daughter a look, one that said she could’ve had a little more tact there.

“The best way for her to get her memories back is for her to stay with me, in a familiar place. In her home,” Ben said, his voice terse and shoulders tense.

“But trying to remember is hurting her,” Louisa said. “She needs to heal from her injuries first. And oh, how about this? No one will even tell us how the hell this happened in the first place!”

Ben’s frown deepened. Your younger sister had been warming up to him a bit more since the Christmas holiday you all spent together last month, but it seemed she was just as protective of you as you were of her.

Fine. Ben understood it, but Louisa was just a college student, not even old enough to order a fucking beer. He wouldn’t have this little girl telling him what was best for you.

However, as he glanced at your mother, he also couldn’t bring himself to answer Louisa’s non-question. At least, not with the whole truth.

“It was retaliation,” he replied, “for a supe we put away a while back.”

Louisa sighed heavily. Her lower lip trembled as tears welled up in her eyes, and she bit her lip and shared a look with her mother.

“Why did they want her though?” Louisa asked Ben, sniffling.

He held the tremor of unease deep inside, and he thought fast.

“He had connections in the CIA. She was the only part of the team here at the base, so he singled her out,” he said. The lie rolled off his tongue without much effort, even though part of it did add to the dark churning in his gut. His gaze fell beyond them.

“All of this is a moot fucking point,” he said. “All she needs is my blood, and she’ll be just fine.”

Louisa wiped under her wet eyes and scoffed.

“You think she’s going to accept a blood transfusion from a supe? Look, I’m sorry, but she’s not the person you know right now—”

“All the more reason to fix this sack of bullshit,” Ben snapped.

He turned on his heel and headed for your room. By now, Annie, Hughie, and the rest of them had cleared out. You were dozing, it seemed, but your eyes opened when Ben thundered in, followed closely by Marie and Louisa.

“Ben,” Louisa warned.

“What’s going on?” you asked weakly.

Ben shook his head and went to your bedside. He took up your hand and didn’t notice (or ignored) the apprehension in your eyes.

“Look, I know you think you don’t know me. You’ve been through…a lot,” he said. He paused when he considered the hell you’d probably endured the past few days. His gut began to roil again, but he pushed forward.

“Last year, you got hurt. Bad enough that you were going to need surgery,” he explained. “But I gave you some of my blood, and you healed right up. I’m gonna do the same for you now.”

You saw that he was serious, that he probably believed he was telling the truth. You just didn’t know this man—this supe that they’d told you was actually Soldier Boy. Instinctively you tried to pull your hand out of his grasp.

“No thanks,” you said, trying to hide your nerves. “I think I’m good healing on my own.”

Ben frowned. He held your hand a fraction tighter.

“Look—”

“No, you look,” you said in frustration, and a frisson of wariness. “I know you think I’m your…girlfriend or life partner or whatever the fuck, but I don’t know you.”

Just as the words left your lips, something sharp and painful flashed in your skull.

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

“But you do. You fucking know me!” Ben insisted. His grip on your hand tightened enough to make you flinch, a whimper sounding in your throat.

“Hey!” Louisa snapped at him.

“Ben,” Marie said, more gently, but not without urgency.

He realized what he was doing, and he forced himself to relax his grip. He watched you take your hand back and look at him like he was some kind of animal. He also realized then that you were scared. Scared of him.

Fuck me…

By degrees, he relented. Heaving a sigh, he carded a hand through his hair and gave a short nod.

“All right,” he said, and he met your eyes. “I’m, uh…I’m sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

He held your wary gaze until you nodded in acceptance. He took in your face, bruised, and still stained from the blood that had been cleaned away with antiseptic wipes. Your neck, arms, and chest were the same; your other wounds were stitched up and bandaged.

According to the first doctor who evaluated you after you came out of emergency surgery (Ben had already forgotten the broad’s name), you’d also sustained broken ribs and a fractured cheekbone, aside from your other injuries.

“And…what about the rest of it?” Ben had asked. He spoke alone with the doctor, just outside your room. Marie and Louisa were in there with you now in the ICU.

The doctor shook her head, offering a look of professional reassurance.

“No. There’s no evidence of sexual trauma,” she said.

Ben took that information in with a nod. Inside his chest, however, the clenching around his heart eased a great deal.

But even with that relief, just your battered face, and the way you were looking at him now…it was all too much.

Ben ignored the voice deep inside that said this was what he deserved.

He stood up, and he left you with your family.

While Louisa had to go back to her dorm for school tomorrow, Marie stayed with you that night. You zoned in and out while New Girl played on the little TV on the wall.

Marie caressed your hair gently, though she was mindful of the way most of your head was wrapped after surgery to fix your skull. If only they could fix your mind too.

“That man…” you trailed. “Um, Soldier Boy. All that crazy shit he was saying…was it true?”

Marie gave you a look for your use of language, but she nodded gravely, and with sadness.

“Yes, Ben was telling the truth,” she said. “He’s the one who saved you. Believe me, he’s very upset that you’re hurt like this.”

You tried to process that as you frowned in contemplation. He’d certainly been…pushy. And determined, like he could actually heal you.

It didn’t matter though. You weren’t about to let a supe feed you his blood like a damn vampire, or whatever Compound V-tainted shit he tried to give you. You weren’t Bella Swan, and this wasn’t fucking Twilight.

“Ben” was rough, and demanding, and gave off a real assholish exterior. Just before he left, though, you also saw his upset. He had taken in your injuries like he was angry, just at the state of you. Like he was mad that he hadn’t been able to prevent it.

“I guess he went home,” you said. Marie shook her head.

“No, he’s still here.”

Your brows knitted together. “What?”

“He’s in the waiting room downstairs,” she explained. “Grace made sure he had a special pass so he could stay with us in the hospital, just in case…”

“In case of what?” you asked. Marie smiled and continued to brush your hair back.

“In case we need him,” she said. “For protection, he said.”

Her eyes shone with sadness again, like she knew something you didn’t. It made you suspicious, but you were surprised that he was still here, despite what you’d said to him.

…Huh, you thought.

Thanks to the (fucking awesome) power of morphine, you fell asleep shortly after.

A week later, you were still recovering in the hospital. The shitty fact of it was, between the medication for your injuries and the risk of pulling your stitches, you could barely move. Dr. Burke was pleased that you at least had feeling in your extremities. One of her main concerns for you had been mobility issues.

Well, you still had to use a bedpan, and sometimes you missed your mouth when you ate pudding, but at least you could feel your feet.

Marie took the whole work week off from her job in order to stay with you. Louisa visited you every day she could after her classes, but she had a recital coming up, and you didn’t want her to lose focus. You encouraged her to only come if and when she finished getting in all the practice she needed.

And Ben…well, he came often. Mostly when you were sleeping. And every time you woke up, you saw something new from him: a beautiful bouquet of flowers, imported chocolates, a snack from the deli down the street from the hospital, a good breakfast from your favorite café in the city, or even several orders of takeout for you, him, and Marie.

You also noticed how your mother doted on him almost as much as she did on you, offering to grab him cups of coffee, or laying her blanket over him while he napped in the big lounge chair close to your bedside.

The guy just refused to leave. So you didn’t say anything about it. You just watched him whenever you were lucid enough to notice he was there.

As it became easier for you to stay awake, and to observe his quiet, but solid presence, the more your wariness of Ben bled away.

You soon began to realize that you were curious about him. If you really had been with him before, how had you two met? And what had made you get with a supe, let alone the original supe Vought ever introduced to America?

You considered him now while he dozed in that uncomfortable looking chair. His brown locks had once again swept over his brows, almost obscuring his eyes. Part of you itched to lean over and brush it all away from his face. If only you were close enough.

You could admit, if just within the safety of your mind, that he was a damn fine specimen of a man. Between the cut of that bearded jaw, the broadness of his arms and chest, the length of those widespread legs…

“Keep staring at me and you’ll wear a damn hole in my face,” he muttered.

You inhaled sharply, and his eyes cracked open. A small smirk raised his lips in amusement. You smiled as well, more in embarrassment at being caught.

Ben let out a long breath and rolled the cracks out of his neck, confirming your assumption that the chair was even more uncomfortable than it looked. You felt a bit bad for him, that he was putting himself through all that for your sake…for someone who didn’t remember him.

He turned to you in askance. “How’re you holding up?”

You shrugged.

“Okay. Pain meds are finally kicking in, at least for the hour.”

He nodded, dragging a hand over his beard. He knew that you’d eaten lunch with your second dose of the day not too long ago.

“You still hungry?” he asked. “I don’t know how they could give you that shit. What was that, some poor fucking excuse for baby food?”

“Whatever it was, it wasn’t pleasant,” you agreed, but the doctor had requested something you could easily digest, with all the medication you were on.

Ben shook his head and rocked onto his feet. He’d get you a candy bar or something. He knew Twix was your favorite.

“Um…Ben,” you said, halting his steps. He turned to you with a raise of his brows. You pointed over to the folded quilt at the foot of your bed. Your mom had brought it from home.

“Would you give me that blanket over there?” you asked. “I’m a little cold.”

You’d get it yourself, but it pained you to fold yourself over. Ben was gracious enough to go over and get the blanket for you. He even opened it up and covered your body up to your chest. His face was stoic, more or less, but there was care in his hands. You found yourself staring up at his face. He leaned against the guardrail of your bed and met your eyes.

“Thank you,” you said, in a near whisper. “And, um…my water?”

You pointed to the plastic cup and jug on the rolling tray to his left. He shot you a look, but he did as you asked, pouring some fresh water into the cup and handing it to you. His fingers brushed with yours on the pass, but you tried not to focus on the warmth of his hand. Instead, you took a few sips from the cup and handed it back to him. He set it back on the tray for you.

“What’d I do to get the hot nurse?” you couldn’t help but tease.

Ben’s brows rose again, somewhat incredulous this time. Then, he was unable to restrain a cocky smile.

“Hmm, I’m a let that one go, since you’re laid up,” he said. 

His gaze roamed your face. He noted that your purplish bruises were easing up somewhat, to green and yellow. Your lacerations were beginning to heal. And before, where there had been wariness, he now saw curiosity in your eyes.

“Can I ask you something?” you drew enough courage to ask.

His lips twitching to one corner, he lowered the guardrail and sat down on the edge of your bed. He gave you an expectant look. You sucked in a breath to steel yourself.

“How long have we been a…a thing?” you asked, pointing between the both of you.

Ben quirked a brow. “About a year now.”

You nodded, though your eyes were wide in surprise. You actually began to blush.

Ben smirked. He reached for the phone in his pocket and handed it over to you, after scrolling to find his photo album.

“Does that look like we don’t know each other?” he asked.

You shot him a wry glance, but you took the phone and started looking through the album. Many of the pictures that featured both of you looked like ones you’d taken, just from the angle. One picture was rather innocuous of him sitting on a couch, presumably watching TV, while you rested on his shoulder and smiled at the camera. His arm was wrapped around your waist.

Another was of you glaring at him in surprise, mid-bite on a large chili hot dog. He wore a Cheshire grin while leaning in close to your cheek.

There were several more than you flipped through, but each one made you sting with the unfamiliarity of it all. You couldn’t remember any of this, but it was undeniable what you and Ben were to each other.

Then you happened on a picture of just you, fresh out of the shower with a towel barely wrapped around you. You looked annoyed, but by the evidence of your smile, also amused that he’d surprised you with the picture.

Your blush intensified as you scrolled past that one. Then you encountered more pictures of you and him, each position filled with more bare flesh—and even more compromising than the next. You refused to press play on any of the videos.

“Oookay,” you said with a full flush heating your face and neck, and the tips of your ears. You minimized the album and all but tossed the phone back at him.

Ben’s smirk had deepened the longer he watched you peruse through the pictures. Now he chuckled and pocketed his phone.

“Like what you see, huh, sweetheart?” he couldn’t help but tease.

Frankly, you were adorable, getting all embarrassed, crossing your arms and pulling the blanket up to your neck. You shot him a look of warning.

What, you could eye him like a honey-glazed ham, flirt with him even, but you couldn’t take a little on the return side?

Ben chuckled some more and reached for your hand, to uncross your arms. You allowed it with a thinly veiled wariness. You weren’t afraid of him…anymore. But that didn’t mean there was no reason to keep your guard up around this guy.

Meanwhile, Ben actually struggled to figure out what he wanted to say to you. Something that wouldn’t put you off, or come off too strong. This was just too fucking strange…

He met your gaze with a heavy exhale.

“You’re going to be let out of here soon enough,” he said. “You don’t need to be scared of me. I’m not gonna hurt you. Matter of fact, I saved you.”

I’ve saved you more times than I can fucking count at this point, he thought wryly.

You stared back at him in contemplation. He sensed you were listening, really trying to hear him.

“You do care about me, don’t you?” you asked, almost in wonder.

Ben didn’t answer you right away. Your question took him off guard a bit, but he also found himself meeting your gaze.

“I think that’s pretty fucking obvious,” he said. You frowned at him then.

“Not entirely," you said. "Not if you don’t say it, Romeo.”

Ben stilled. Against his will, he remembered the last real words he’d said to you before this nightmare began.

“I love you,” you’d said. He could hear your pretty smile through the phone. “Just wanted to make sure you knew that.”

“Mhmm,” Ben replied, smiling himself. “I’ll see you soon, baby doll.”

He could also hear your disappointment, there in your brief silence.

“Come on, say it,” you implored.

Ben restrained a sigh. He cast a subtle look from the corner of his eye, watching Butcher, M.M., and Kimiko loading the car with their weapons, along with the supe they’d captured. They were all too close for comfort.

“Say what?” Ben asked, feigning ignorance. Your sigh reached him, stinging him.

“You know exactly what,” you replied.

He knew what you wanted, but he still didn’t give it to you.

He didn’t allow himself.

Now, he brushed a thumb over the back of your hand, and he sighed. Sometimes, regret weighed just as bad as guilt, even if you couldn’t admit to either one.

His gaze now slid up to yours.

“Well, I do… I care about you,” Ben said.

You’re fucking mine, his selfish heart added. He just didn’t think you’d react well to that admission.

“What do you say about coming home with me?” he asked. “I think being around all your stuff will help you…get better.”

You debated his proposition, and you realized his idea made sense. If this man was really your boyfriend, and you’d been living with him for a year…then maybe you could trust him.

Just not entirely.

“I want my mom to come too,” you said.

Ben smiled. It was a small, but true smile, and it took you by surprise. But you only felt your face getting warm again when he pressed his lips to the back of your hand. 

“Yeah, she can come help me take care of you, ‘til you’re feeling better,” he said.

You regarded him for a moment, still wondering if you could trust him. The longer you stared into his eyes, the more you found yourself relenting.  

“Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll go with you.”

After you were finally discharged from the hospital, Ben drove you and Marie out of the city to his apartment in Scarsdale. Technically, it was your apartment too.

He promised that it had been fitted with a much better security system, now with motion cameras around the apartment, and sensors on the roof. (You didn’t know that Hughie would have to explain to Ben how all that shit worked on his phone.)

The apartment itself was familiar to you, but it felt fuzzy in your mind. Like you had a dream of being here, living a life that wasn’t yours.

Thanks to the stairs, Ben left your bags at the foot of them, before he carefully maneuvered you into his arms without pressing on any of your stitches. You sucked in a shaky breath and held onto his shoulders, squeezing your eyes tight for a moment as the movement jostled your sense of equilibrium.

“You okay?” he asked. You blinked your eyes open and met his. His brows were furrowed in concern, but it was the intensity of his eyes that stole your breath. Part of you wanted to smile, half out of nerves, but you tempered it.

“Peachy,” you replied.

His lips twitched. He then moved carefully up the stairs.

He set you back down on your feet once he reached the top, at your insistence. Marie came in from behind with her suitcase and your forearm crutch, but Ben still kept a supporting arm around your waist.

“I’ve got it,” you told him, a bit nervous and hasty to escape his hold.

He released you, and reluctantly watched you head further into the apartment on your own two feet (and crutch). You wandered into each room like you were looking for a damn portal into Narnia.

It was hard for Ben to watch you like this. With a sigh, he went back downstairs to grab the rest of your things. He set them down in the living room while you ambled off into the guest room. Marie touched his arm in comfort.

“It’ll be okay, honey,” she said.

She’d developed a soft spot for Ben not too long after meeting him. And though he’d never admitted it, the sentiment was reciprocated.

He didn’t answer her, but after a moment, he nodded. She rubbed his arm with a faint smile and went to check on you.

Marie soon found you in the office you and Ben shared. It didn’t look like he used this room often, while your desk was covered in papers and files. It did, however, smell like his cologne in here.

Or, well, the scent was masculine and woodsy—like sandalwood and spice (and a hint of weed, as evidenced from the ashtray on his desk). You had to assume the scent belonged to him, even though you didn’t think he’d worn cologne at all in the hospital. Or maybe you just inherently recognized it as his.

Huh. Smell is the strongest sense, you mused to yourself.

The thought of you remembering anything at all from what you’d lost had you the slightest bit excited, and nervous. Dr. Jeong said you’d been through a terrible trauma. The evidence of it now littered your body and had nearly broken you. So you were fairly certain that there were things you didn’t want to remember.

The touch of your mother’s hand on your shoulder had you jolting. You breathed in relief when you saw her. Her eyes widened and she held up placating hands.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” she said. “You okay?”

You nodded, though you continued to take in your surroundings with a small frown. She helped you sit in one of the office chairs, as your strength was already waning.

“It seems like everything he said was true. It’s just…it’s a lot,” you said.

“Of course it is,” said Marie. “But if it helps, you seemed very happy here. You were just glowing all night with him at the Christmas party.”

Great, yet another event that was entirely blank in your mind. If you couldn’t remember celebrating your favorite holiday, then what was the point? You huffed.

“I just find it hard to believe that I’d end up with a supe,” you admitted. You worked at Supe Affairs for God’s sake.

Marie only laughed and rubbed your back. 

“Well, you found a good one,” she said. 

A good one, huh? you shook your head in true wonder.

Now that was food for thought.

When you first arrived, Ben had led you to the master bedroom and said it was your room. So why the fuck was he climbing into bed with you?

“Excuse me,” you frowned at him, drawing the blankets closer over your body. You only had on a large shirt over your underwear. It was how you preferred to dress for bed, and it was easier than pulling a pair of shorts over the healing scars on your legs.

Ben had on a gray shirt and some plaid pajama pants. He’d shucked off his old man loafers before making the right side of the bed dip with his weight. He raised a brow at you.

“What?” he asked.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked.

“Going to bed, sweetheart. Been a long fucking week,” he retorted.

“I thought this was my bed,” you said.

“It’s our bed,” he corrected. He grabbed the edge of the blanket to pull some of it towards him, but you pulled it tighter against you.

“Look,” you said flatly. “I agreed to come here and stay with you, but I didn’t agree to this kind of close quarters.”

Ben stared back at you in annoyance and willed his temper not to snap. So fucking what if he shared the bed with you? It was a California king. The odds of your bodies even touching were slim to none.

However, he saw that stubborn look in your eyes. It was all too familiar.

Christ on a cross. He forgot how goddamn difficult you were in the beginning.

And really, you two were at the beginning, all over again. He’d gotten you to trust him, slightly, but he knew the rest would take time.

Is this really fucking worth it? came an insidious thought deep inside. The selfish part that had ruled for most of his life.

Then, he spied the silver Rolex on his nightstand—the one you’d gifted him for Christmas, along with the photo album that you’d put together for him. It included the only pictures he kept of his mother, and new ones you’d made with him. They were pictures you’d collected and captured of your life together so far.

With a deep sigh, Ben wordlessly got out of bed. He grabbed up his pillow and a throw blanket that had slid to the floor, and he made his way to the living room. Marie was taking up the only guest bedroom, so he supposed he was relegated to the couch in his own home. How the fuck did that happen?

He sat down heavily in the middle of the couch and had to take some deep breaths. His head slowly fell into his hands, elbows resting on his knees. With both hands, he tried to rub the exhaustion and frustration from his face.

There were words he couldn’t say. However, within the safety of his mind, he was forced to reckon with it.

This was his fault. He knew it, down to his bones.

It was all really his fucking fault.

He should’ve gotten you a protective security detail from the beginning. He just didn’t think anyone would have the balls to…

Ben breathed past the tightness in his chest that was once again clawing at his throat. 

Well, this fucking blows like a cheap whore, he thought.

And as you might expect, he slept fitfully that night.

The next morning, you winced at the ache in your head that was now customary for you. You had practically drowned in this giant-ass bed, but the reality was, you’d barely slept. You just couldn’t get comfortable enough to stay asleep.

You didn’t know if it was because it was an unfamiliar place, or because you now had a lower dose of pain meds than you’d been given in the hospital, or if it was because there was just something missing here.

You sighed and hauled yourself out of bed to freshen up. Really, you should’ve waited for your mother or Ben to help you out of bed, but you weren’t used to being incapacitated like this. And even when you were down, it had been ingrained in you (through your father’s special brand of “parenting”) to play through the pain.

So you grabbed your crutch from beside the bed, and somehow you managed to make it to the bathroom by yourself.

After dressing in sweatpants, a bra, and a tank top, you padded out into the hall. Your mom was still sleeping, but you found Ben in the living room.

He was sprawled out across the couch. Half the covers had slipped off his body and pooled on the floor. Again, you tried not to admire the length and broadness of his form, and the way that shirt stretched across his chest and arms.

His arm was curled across his closed eyes, but he lowered it when he heard you approaching.

His eyes were a bit red and bleary. It didn’t look like he’d slept very well either. You felt bad for that, as you leaned on the back of the couch to greet him.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” you teased him a little. “You slept like shit out here, didn’t you?”

“What was your first damn clue?” he groused. You had a feeling he was grumpy in the morning, regardless of how well he slept.

“Okay, I’m sorry about that,” you said. Even though you had every right to sleep alone, you still felt bad for making him sleep out here. “How about I make us some coffee?”

He nodded with a grunt. You smiled and teetered only slightly on your way to the kitchen. Ben frowned as he realized it.

“You shouldn’t be walking around like that yet,” he called after you.

He forced himself to get off the couch, rolling to his feet. You shot him a stubborn look.

“I’m fine,” you said.

Ben’s frown deepened with annoyance.

…Right. Okay, you weren’t exactly fine.

You were still exhausted. Still felt like utter crap, as stiffness pulled at your muscles and pain at your stitches and broken ribs. And, oh yes, your head was still broken.

But, this was the most mobile you’d been in a few weeks. You were determined to do at least one normal, productive thing today. Even if it was just making coffee, then you were going to count that as a win.

By the time Ben joined you, the coffee was done percolating and you handed him a mug. He took a sip before he remembered to tell you…no cream.

He looked into the mug in wonder. You’d actually made his coffee with sugar, no cream. Just like he liked it.

Noticing the look on his face, you paused.

“Oh, sorry. I forgot to ask how you take it.”

“No,” he said, sitting across from you at the breakfast bar. “It’s just right.”

You blinked in surprise, but then you shrugged and sipped at your own cup of coffee, which had both cream and sugar. While you were preoccupied with brainstorming where to order in for breakfast, Ben allowed himself to smile a little.

You were in there, somewhere.

He just needed to help you come out.

AN: See? I promise, there's hope. 💚

(But there's also still drama ahead...)

Next Time:

“We’re not gonna have this discussion again. You need to fucking eat,” he said. “I could feed you, though I promise you’re not gonna like it.”

His surly, frowning face was annoying you. His deep voice was annoying you. His tall, ridiculous wall-of-man body in your line of vision was annoying you, clothed in a rumpled shirt and the sweatpants he’d slept in.  

Everything about him annoyed you right now.

But that could also have something to do with the pounding ache in the back of your skull, radiating forward and between your eyes.

“Bro, I’m on like, three kinds of medication,” you replied in weary irritation. “With what appetite do you expect me to eat?”

Bro? His eyebrow twitched.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3

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@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

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[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 5: We Got Us An IKEA Virgin

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Soft Ben/Soldier Boy.

Word Count: 5.3K

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

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

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

A/N: This one is incredibly fluffy and self-indulgent, let's be honest, all of my fics are and I'm not sorry. This chapter contains an absolutely cutesy scenario that I just had to write, so if you don't like anything like that then probably shouldn't read it :) If you love that kind of thing then ENJOY!

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“What the fuck is this place?” Ben asks in disbelief as he looks around the spacious lobby of the Brooklyn IKEA.

The smell of cinnamon buns, chocolate chip cookies, coffee, and Swedish meatballs wafts over the crowded lobby towards where the two of you stand just inside the welcoming large blue and yellow front doors. Light streams through the front windows tickling against your skin and spreading over the front tables where various displays of houseplants bask in the late afternoon sun. They stretch their leaves towards the sunlight, unfurling towards the light each in various shades of green, sitting in happy colored pots waiting to be picked up by the people who weave through the front lobby.

There were less here than at the plant shop of course, but there were still enough plants for you to feel the prickle of your powers beneath your skin and feel the plants begin to tilt towards you as they sense you enter the building.

“It’s IKEA. You’ve never been to IKEA before?” You say taking a step towards the display of snake plants, livening up a few that look like they could use a little love, feeling the gentle bend of their firm leaves straighten beneath your touch.

“I don’t know if you remember this or not Petals, but I haven’t exactly been out and about in forty years. And I have no idea why you’ve been here before.”

“Well I’ve never been to this exact location before, but there was one an hour away from where Annie and I grew up. There wasn’t much to do where we lived so we drove to that one. But that’s beside the point. IKEA was created in the 50’s which means you had thirty years to experience all of this.” You glance up at him mildly confused.

He could have at least heard of IKEA in the thirty years he had before he got taken to Russia.

“So? I’ve never been shopping for furniture. I just made Legend do that shit for me. I was saving the world. Didn’t have time to go picking out couches like a fucking pansy.” Ben frowns down at you.

“Really? You didn’t care what was in your apartment? You didn't want to test out a couch before you bought it?” You think about your vintage bedside table and carved wooden headboard that you found when thrifting with Annie one weekend. "I mean you had to look at it everyday."

Ben shrugs. “Wasn’t there too much. Really just needed the bed.“

"So you're telling me you're an IKEA virgin?" You gasp dramatically.

Ben quirks the end of his lips mildly amused. "Will you be gentle with me if I say yes?"

"I'll consider it." You shrug. "But then again it was you that said you liked it a little rough and that there was nothing gentle about you. So, I think you're just gonna have to put on your big boy pants and follow my lead."

"Baby I can't wait to show you just how big I-"

You roll your eyes and turn back to the plants that need your attention, interrupting the end of his sentence. "I really hope that whoever lives in your old apartment burned down the whole building and then rebuilt. Seems like the only way to purge what happened there in the bed you're so proud of.” You shudder trying hard not to think about what happened in Ben’s old apartment and say a prayer that the same thing won’t happen in yours.

Not in front of my plants, they're young and impressionable for fucks sake.

It had been three days since Ben and you had watched a movie on your couch and exactly two days after he’d moved all his stuff in from Butcher’s apartment. Stuff being a relative term because it was really just a large garbage bag filled with his clothes.

It made you feel even worse for him when he showed up at your front door with that, but you had cleaned out the linen closet and removed a few of the shelves inside it for Ben to use. It was a better alternative to him using your bedroom closet. The last thing you wanted was for him to come into your room at inopportune times.

The team had different reactions to finding out the two of you were living together. Butcher had mocked you endlessly, Frenchie and Kimiko had bought you a ridiculously skimpy, cheap, and tight set of lacy lingerie that looked more like dental floss than anything else, MM told you that you were making a mistake, Hughie was stunned, and Annie was annoying you without end.

Annie had begun to send you pictures of what Ben and your children would look like and you had retaliated by telling Hughie about the Fourth of July disaster that happened when you and Annie were sixteen. When Annie was in the cherry pie eating contest after deciding to partake in cheaply made moonshine her boyfriend, Dominic, had stolen from his dad and then vomited red froth all over her boyfriend when he tried to kiss her and made him throw up all over her.

You still couldn’t look at a cherry pie without gagging.

Unfortunately that just made the photos get more and more unhinged. The last one was a picture of a body builder standing in a green house with a baby’s face photoshopped on it.

You suspected that Hughie had something to do with that one. And as revenge, you sent Annie a picture of a baby with a light bulb photoshopped where its head should be.

But while sitting on your couch watching that ridiculous movie with Ben, you realized that if Ben was really going to move in you needed to get a bigger one, one that he could at least stretch out on without his legs hanging over the end and one that he wouldn't have to worry about falling off of if he moved more than a centimeter.

You and Ben had spent the morning driving around in Butcher’s car going from auto shop to auto shop trying to see if anyone knew anything about the supe, or had seen anything weird happen the nights the cars were jacked. None of the workers saw anything or had seemed suspicious of Ben and you asking questions. The owner of the last auto shop had said that one week ago someone had broken in and stolen some equipment, but the auto shop didn’t have any security cameras. Which meant you were back to square one.

You dreaded the call to Butcher, but when you walked out of the last auto shop you noticed tables and chairs being unloaded from a large truck and when you went over to ask what was going on, you found out that one of the representatives who was running for city comp troller in the next election was throwing a gala on Saturday night.

That meant that the streets would be lined with expensive cars, and you knew that was something the supe wouldn’t be able to pass up. Expensive cars in his neighborhood just waiting to be stripped. So now Butcher was making a plan for Saturday night and you were stuck with Ben.

But lately it hadn't felt like you were stuck with him. It felt different.

You were surprised that it had been three days and Ben and you hadn’t killed each other, in fact it was almost kind of nice. Yes he still annoyed the shit out of you and made comments about sleeping with him, but you were getting used to him being there when you got home. Not to mention he actually fixed a leak underneath the kitchen sink that you’d told the super about time and time again for the past four months with no reply.

You didn’t know that Ben knew how to do that kind of stuff. Figured that he never got his hands dirty, but then you’d seen him on his back under the sink with a newly purchased toolbox on the ground next to him. When you'd tried to tell him that you could call someone to do that, he'd waved you off and said that it was a man's job to fix things around the house. But that hadn't stopped you from sitting on the ground next to him and ask him exactly what he was doing so you knew how.

When you’d asked him why he needed to fix it so urgently, Ben said that the dripping was keeping him up at night and the duct tape that you’d put there was about as useful as a broken condom.

Of course it hadn't all been good. 

The closest you’d come to killing him was when he came home one night ago and Mike was in the hallway with you, desperately trying to find out how serious your and Ben’s relationship was. Ben had come up behind you, pulled you into him with a strong hand on your waist, while his other arm wrapped gently under your neck. and had begun to kiss up and down the column of your throat while whispering things loudly that even made Mike's cheeks flush a dark crimson. You wanted to choke Ben out while you desperately tried to ignore how good it felt to be in his arms, how his beard scratched pleasantly against your skin, and how nice and warm he was. Mike had gotten the message and retreated to his apartment and to retaliate you had a key made for Ben that was bright pink and had a picture of hello kitty on it.

But you hadn't been angry enough to abandon Ben this morning when he left the apartment to take out the trash and immediately got cornered by Mike's mother on the wall beside the elevator. You opened the front door of the apartment and saw him pinned to the wall with Mike's mother's hand on Ben's chest, tracing over his muscles while saying that he reminded her of her ex-husband who seemed to keep her up all night long. When his eyes met yours, it was the closest you'd ever seen to genuine fear, and it made you laugh, because you'd seen him face down supes without batting an eye, but he was afraid of a less than five foot tall woman in a bright yellow and green mumu. An evil part of yourself wanted to leave him there as payback, to shut the door and forget about him, but you figured you owed him for fixing your sink so you helped him get away.

"I haven't checked that, but if anything they should have immortalized that apartment for posterity." Ben grins widely, his eyes awash with memories of a past long gone. "Do you have any idea what I did to-"

"Ah- no-" You put your fingers in your ears. "La la la la la."

Ben pulls out one of your fingers. "You're right, I don't need to tell you. Why don't we go back to our apartment and I can show you?" He steps closer to you, his grin dipping into a roughish smirk that makes his eyes glint with mischief.

"Oh hush." You place one hand on his chest, ignoring how good it feels under his hands and push him back. "We're here to get a couch."

"Fine. But I've got the perfect way to christen it when we get back." Ben winks.

You stare blankly at him, feigning confusion. "I didn't know you wanted to learn how to crochet that bad, but I've got enough yarn to show you when we get back."

"What?"

"I mean that is what I usually do on the couch. But don't worry, it's a lot easier than it looks." You shrug before grabbing a snake plant in a brightly colored orange pot and place it in the top part of the cart. You didn't have one at the apartment and it was supposed to make the air cleaner. Given how much weed Ben smoked, you figured the two of you could use it.

Or maybe a whole damn field of it.

You had already made the jasmine on the wall behind the t.v multiply exponentially to make up for the smell, but you didn't mind it. You'd also noticed that Ben seemed to be slowing down how much he was smoking. Whenever you went to Butcher's apartment in the past he always had a blunt, but in the past three days you'd only seen him with one a few times. You wondered why that was. Ben had told you before that it helped him with his PTSD, but you wondered what could have changed.

“You’re getting another plant?”

“Never ask me that question Gramps, not unless you want to get an ass-full of cactus.” You push the cart towards the food area intent on getting a coffee. This morning the two of you had been in a hurry and you hadn't been able to have one.

“Hello! How are you today?” The person behind the counter says with a wide smile. She was pretty, with thick light brown hair pushed back by a floral scarf and a large pair of hoop earrings.

See she took her happy pills. Now if only Ben would.

“I’m great how are you?” You smile back.

“I’m doing fantastic!” She beams. “What can I get you today?”

“Can I get a hazelnut coffee with cream and sugar please?”

“Okay." Her eyes flick back to where Ben is glowering behind you. "Does your boyfriend want anything?”

“Oh he’s not my-“ You begin to wave a hand.

“Can I get a black coffee?” Ben interrupts not bothering to correct her.

“Of course. Y’all are so cute.” She smiles typing something into her register. “You’ve got that height difference and everything.”

“No actually we’re not tog-“ You begin to say again, but Ben weaves his arm around your waist.

“Thank you.” Ben gives her a charming smile as he pulls your right hip back into his left. “We just moved in together. It’s a really big step, but I just couldn’t stay away from my girl.”

“Congratulations!”  Her eyes shift to the plant in the basket. “Aww and you guys are getting a plant. How wonderful!”

“Yeah it’s our love plant.” Your smile turns more into a snarl as you reach up and pinch Ben’s cheeks painfully between your fingers hoping that it hurts. “I’m trying to see if Benny-Wenny here can keep it alive. Because if he doesn’t then our love will die.” You say doing your best Kate Hudson impression. When you say die you emphasize the word by squeezing his cheeks again, but Ben only smiles around it, his eyes gleaming.

“Oh um- okay.” The girls smile drops just a watt sensing the tension between the two of you. “Well your total is 10.78.”

You reach for your phone preparing to use the Apple Pay function, but Ben hands the girl a twenty before you can.

“Aww and he pays too.” The girl coos looking like she’s going to swoon. “What a gentleman.”

Honey he’s about as far from a gentleman as you can imagine.

“I’m certainly going to make him.” You reply, elbowing him hard in the stomach. “Given what I have to go through.” You mutter that last part, earning a chuckle from Ben.

When you finally get your coffee you walk off, following the arrows on the ground to where the sleeper couches should be while sipping on your coffee with Ben walking next to you.

A comfortable silence builds between the two of you as you walk through the aisles, watching couples hold hands and point at dining room tables, children beg their parents for bunk beds, and teenagers play hide and seek.

One brushes past you making some of your coffee slosh over the rim of the cup onto your shirt, and continues to run, but he doesn't get far. Ben grabs the back of his shirt and hauls him back.

"Apologize." Ben growls narrowing his eyes at the kid who looks like he might cry.

"Ben it's okay-"

"I'm sorry." The boy says his eyes wide.

Ben drops him, satisfied with his answer, and the boy scampers off to his friends who all look back at Ben like he's crazy.

"You didn't have to do that." You say, wiping your finger at the stain on your white and black striped t-shirt. "He's just a kid."

"He should have apologized." Ben grunts handing you the napkin that's wrapped around his coffee.

"Thanks." You dab at the spot, but you know it won't do much use.

"The younger generation these days seems short on respect."

You snort out a laugh, balling the napkin up and toss it in a trashcan nearby. "Statements like that really age you Gramps."

"So does that fucking nickname." He sighs.

"You never told me your real name when we first met and I told you that I was going to come up with a fun nickname to call you. You can only blame yourself." You take the last sip of coffee, stepping off the path to examine a bright red couch that looks long enough for Ben to sleep on.

"What's wrong?" Ben asks.

"Huh?" You look up at him.

"You're making the face you always do when something is wrong."

You blink for a minute. Is he talking about what Annie calls my 'suffer in silence face?' How the hell does he know about that?

"I don't like the color." You say hesitantly.

"I don't either." Ben takes your empty coffee cup and throws it away with his. "What about that one?" He points at a soft black couch on the other side. It has a function that allows apart of the cushions to extend into a bed, easy to move in and out. You sit down.

"It's sort of comfy."

Ben sits down directly beside you, even though there's enough room for him to sit on the other side. "It's okay."

"What? Your butt isn't comfortable?" You tease him, elbowing him playfully.

Ben rolls his eyes at you. "Can't you take anything seriously?"

"What's the fun in that Gramps?" You sit back against the cushions. "But you're right. My butt is not pleased."

"What a shame. I'd hate for something so delicious be disappointed." Ben replies turning to look at you.

You ignore his comment. "Come on, let's go check that one."

As you go deeper and deeper into the bowels of IKEA, it begins to get colder and colder. Goosebumps pebble over your arms as you gaze down at the charcoal colored couch. You rub your hands up and down them to warm them up.

Why is it so damn cold in here? It’s not that hot outside!

More goosebumps erupt over your skin as you walk around the couch thinking that movement will help with the chill. And just as you come back around to the front of the couch, Ben’s leather jacket  drapes over your shoulders.

It’s too big for you, but you almost moan in relief as you sink into the warmth it holds. It was still warmed from Ben's body, and smelled exactly like his cologne. Something spicy and masculine that made you feel like you’d bought one of those cinnamon brooms sold around Christmastime.

You look up at him in surprise. “What about you?”

“I run hot.” He shrugs. “Plus I don't want you to turn into a popsicle.”

“Thank you.” You say too cold to argue as you put your arms through the sleeves that hang several inches past your hands.

Wow that's actually kind of sweet.

“Mhmm.” He grunts looking at the couch in front of you. “Kinda a shame though.”

“Huh?”

Ben leans back to look behind you with a mournful sigh. “It covers up your gorgeous ass.”

And he’s back.

“Why don’t you just-“

“Y/n!” You hear a familiar voice call cutting off your next words, and you turn towards it.

Jake is wheeling a cart towards the two of you, a collection of ceramic pots in his basket, waving his hand enthusiastically. “What are you doing here?” He’s smiling just as brightly at you as always, his hair swept back over his head, blue eyes filled with mirth.

“Be nice.” You mutter under your breath to Ben, who huffs in response. “Hey Jake. Ben and I were just looking at couches.”

“Couches?” Jake takes in your close proximity and the fact that you’re wearing Ben’s jacket. “Why?”

“Oh well-“

“For our apartment.” Ben says tightly, emphasizing the word 'our.' He’s frowning at Jake, eyes narrowed.

Why does he have such a problem with him?

“You guys are moving in together?” Jake looks confused, and if he clocks Ben’s rude attitude he doesn’t show it. “I thought you said that you just work together?”

“Why do you care plant boy?” Ben snaps.

“Ben!” You hiss, elbowing him hard. “I’m sorry Jake, you’ll have to excuse Gramps, he’s not used to talking to civilized people.” You turn to glare at Ben. “Why don’t you go look at that couch over there?”

“I’m comfortable here, thanks Petals.”

You continue to glare at him while Jake stands there awkwardly not sure what to say.

“Fucking fine.” Ben mutters under his breath and stomps off in the direction of a bright yellow couch that looks like it could sleep five people.

You turn back to Jake with an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry-“

“It’s okay.” Jake smiles. “My sister is dating someone just like him. I’m used to it.”

I doubt she’s dating a horny 104 year old that’s been on ice for forty years and tortured in a Russian lab.

“What are you doing here?” You look down at his cart noting the ceramic planters.

"They're having a sale, thought we could use some new ones for display in the shop." Jake shrugs. "I see that you found a plant you like."

"Well you can never have too many." You smile.

"I completely agree." Jake glances over to where Ben is supposed to be trying out a brilliant yellow couch, and he is sitting on it, but he's glaring at Jake. "Um, well I guess I'll see you at work on Monday?"

"Yep I'll be there."

"Oh actually-" Jake pauses to clear his throat. "There's a plant show this weekend at the farmer's market by my apartment on Saturday morning. Did you want to come with me? It might be fun."

"Oh-um- I'm not sure. Butcher might have something to do for me to do on Saturday. And I'm sure you're plenty capable of picking out inventory." You smile at that last part. It was true, Jake always did a wonderful job of picking out plants for the shop. He'd never asked you to go with him before.

"Actually-" Jake rubs the back of his neck, cheeks flushed. "I-uh- didn't mean for inv-"

"I don't like this one Petals." Ben shouts from the other side of the room interrupting what Jake was going to say.

You turn to stare at him. He's still sitting on the brilliant yellow couch, his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Jake.

He's such a toddler, can't sit still for two seconds.

You sigh and twist back to Jake. "I'm sorry he's a literal child. What were you saying?"

"I-" Jake clears his throat, smiling tightly. His eyes flick back to Ben's cold stare, before he looks back at you. "Nevermind. I'll see you at work on Monday okay?"

"Yeah okay." You hold up your hand in a wave as he turns and leaves, walking quickly away down the concrete path towards the front doors.

You stomp over to the couch where Ben is still glowering at Jake.

"I like the gray one better." Ben stands and points at the one you two had originally been standing at when Jake walked up.

"I can't believe you just did that. Why did you have to be so mean? He was just being nice, making conversation." You huff, planting your hands on your hips. "You're from the fucking '20s aren't you supposed to understand basic human decency instead of acting like a modern day fuck-boy?"

"I don't understand what that means. And I don't like him."

"Why? What has he done to make you hate him? You've barely said two words to him since you met four days ago."

"I just don't." Ben frowns at Jake's retreating figure, who does seem to be gaining some serious speed.

You couldn't blame him, Ben could look downright murderous when he wanted to. But you didn't understand why he hated Jake so much, why he couldn't stand to be around him. Jake was polite and kind, yes, two things opposite of Ben, but Jake hadn't done anything to make Ben hate him. You'd been present at both of their interactions and Jake hadn't said anything mean let alone frowned at Ben.

"He's my boss. And if we're going to be seen in public together sometimes you're going to have to try to make an effort to be nicer to him."

"Why?"

"Because I need that job Gramps! Butcher's pay sucks, and I don't have a bank account that has been gaining interest for eighty years, not to mention any money from being a supe or staring in ridiculous films. And if he fires me because of you I will send a Terminator into the past to kill your child self!" You poke him in the chest angrily, before you walk back over to the gray couch to lift the price tag up.

You try not to wince. It was a little more than what you had been prepared for, but Ben actually liked this one and he would be the one using it the most. It felt selfish to deprive him of that, especially since he'd been sleeping in a tank for the past forty years.

Maybe we should just buy him a bed for the living room and make that his room. It would be cheaper and I wouldn't have to give up name brand things. Your cheeks flush for a moment, realizing if you did that, you’d have to sit on Ben’s bed to watch tv. Oh yeah he’d love that. He would make so many jokes about how he finally got me into bed with him. Why did I agree to let him live with me again?

Ben looks at the price over your shoulder, noticing your reaction. "Don't worry about it."

"What?" You glance up at him surprised.

"I'll pay for it." Ben didn't look like he was kidding, his green eyes were focused on you, an unreadable emotion hidden behind them that you'd seen only a few times before. It was the same one that he'd had just before you left Butcher's apartment four days ago, the one Ben had when you said you were going to walk home alone, and the one that was so different than the angry or aroused one he had when he looked at you.

"No." You shake your head. "Ben that's crazy, I'm going to pay for some of it. I sit on that couch too-"

"Sorry Petals. I'm not going to let you pay for my bed." Ben smirks, and strokes his finger down your cheek. "But I'd love to have you join me in it."

You glare at him, leaning back so his hand falls from your face. "Ben I'm serious. I don't want you to have to pay for the whole thing."

"And I don't want you to pay for it."

"So you're saying that we're at a stalemate unless one of us is willing to commit a felony?"

"Why are you so against me paying for this? Are you going to yell at me again about the wonders of modern day feminism? Let me know now so I can rip my ears off in preparation."

"First of all, the outside of the ear is actually purely for show and made of cartiledge which means for you to avoid listening to me you would have to rip out the inside of your ears." You drop the finger you were holding up. "And second of all, it feels wrong because I use the couch when I crochet or when Annie and I drink wine, eat greasy pizza, and watch monster movies-"

"You guys get drunk and watch monster movies? Aren't women supposed to like sappy shit like Jane Austen?"

"I mean I love Mr. Darcy as much as anyone, but I'm not ashamed to admit my comfort movie is Jurassic Park. Something about them running around for their lives makes me feel better about mine."

Especially now that I have to deal with you all day long.

Ben blinks at you like he can't figure you out. Personally you were used to people looking at you that way.Weirdness was a privilege and you owned it, wore it like an eccentric billionaire's wife in a mink coat in the middle of summer.

"Petals." Ben says quietly, the look in his eyes shifts to something softer, something that you'd never seen before. Even the way he says the nickname is different, not the harsh way he says it or the teasing way, it's almost gentle. "I don't want you to worry about this. It's alright. I'm the one that barged in and made you let me live there. So I'm going to pay for it."

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to feel guilty. "Are you sure you're even okay with a sleeper couch? We could just get you a mattress."

"Nah. This one is comfortable." He nods his head in the direction of the gray couch.

"So what you're saying is," You smile as wide as you can poking him. "Your butt was comfy on that couch!"

Ben rolls his eyes. "Come on let's go, before Jake comes back and tries to ask you out again."

"He was not trying to ask me out, he was just being friendly." You roll your eyes at him as you take a picture of the tag, trying not to let Ben get to you.

"I hate to break this to you Petals, but that's exactly what he was doing." He replies. "I told you that he wanted to fuck you." Ben almost sing-songs.

"No he wasn't." You stop for a minute, back straightening. "Wait. Is that why you interrupted him?" You turn around so that you're looking at Ben again. "Because you thought he was asking me out?"

Wait a minute, was he trying to get Jake to leave so he wouldn't ask me out. Is that why Ben hates him so much? Because he's jealous? There's no way-

"No." Ben says it immediately, jaw tightening.

"Holy Shit. You're jealous!" You cackle.

"No I'm not."

“Ben why are you jealous? We aren’t together. We aren’t having sex-“

“We could be! And I'm not jealous of that fucking dandy."

“I don’t understand why you’re so attached to the idea of us sleeping together.“

“And I don’t understand why you're pretending to be so against it.”

"I'm not pretending and I'm not going to get into this argument with you again." You say exaggerating your frown.

"Deny it all you want Petals, but I know your tell." His eyes flick to the scrunch between your eyebrows. "So grab your stupid plant and let's go." He turns and moves to follow the arrows on the ground out towards the exit.

"Ben I'm serious, why are you jealous?" You jog to catch up with him, the cart rolling smoothly against the concrete floors.

"I'm not and I'm done talking about this with you!"

"Uh-huh. Sure." You begin to prance behind the cart. "You're jealous! You loooovvveee meee." You tease him.

Ben whirls around so fast, bending down towards you so close you can feel his breath against your lips, the teasing mood in your veins quickly shifting to something else. You're suddenly thankful that you picked a plant that didn't have the possibility of producing flowers, because they would be in full bloom. The close proximity of Ben to you made it impossible to think, not when you were inhaling his hypnotic scent with every breath, and not when his lips were only inches from yours.

Ben's mouth pulls up in a smirk as his emerald gaze locks with yours. He's so close that you can see the soft cinnamon colored freckles flecked across his cheeks and see the circle of gold in his eyes that seems to make your knees weak.

"Love doesn't have anything to do with it, doesn't have anything to do with what I want to do to you." He breathes, his voice dropping into the deep rumble that makes everything else vanish away. "And I'm not jealous of him doll. Anything that he can do to you, I can do better, longer, and harder. You just say the word, and you won't even remember him, let alone remember your own name."

You can't find the words to reply, the memory of Ben kissing you is everywhere, crackling along your skin, thrumming in your veins, and buried in your bones.

"Now come on. I want to look at bookshelves." Ben pulls back with a wide smirk, hearing your heart beat begin to kick up.

"Wait what?" Your voice sounds small when you find it.

"Your stack of books is annoying me."

"What do you mean? You mean the stack of books in my bedroom that you're never supposed to set foot in is annoying you?"

"Mhmm."

"I am perfectly capable of buying my own bookshelf thank you."

"Then why haven't you?"

"Because I had more important things to do-"

Like paying for electricity and buying cat food.

"Uh-huh. Well I don't have anything to do because all my drinking buddies died forty fucking years ago."

"You're not serious. You're not going to buy me a bookshelf." You say in shock.

Why in the fuck does he care about that? It's my room, he doesn't have to do that.

"Yes I am. That stack of books is ridiculous and pointless."

"That could be the name of my autobiography." You roll your eyes. It was a joke that Annie and you often used when you hung out together. Because what was the point of life without a little bit of self-deprecating humor?

Ben stops walking and turns around to look at you. "You might be ridiculous Petals, but you're not pointless. Don't you ever say anything like that around me ever again." He looks almost angry at the thought.

You inhale a sharp breath surprised. "Ben I wasn't being serious it's just a joke. Annie and I-"

"I don't care." He's still frowning at you. "I don't want you to make that kind of joke around me okay?"

You can't respond to that, only nod.

I have no idea what is going on.

All day Ben had been surprising you, hell, when he moved in a few days ago he surprised you. He was acting like he actually gave a shit, not just that he wanted to sleep with you, but that he genuinely wanted to be apart of your life, almost like a friend. You knew that maybe it was ridiculous to think that, but something deep down made you think it was true. That Ben really was making an effort to be better around you. But you had no idea why.

"So I'm going to buy a bookshelf no matter what you say, and you can either tell me which one to get or I'm gonna get you the ugliest son of a bitch here." Ben says smiling. "What will it be?"

You stand there looking at him, still mildly surprised, until you point at a dark brown wooden bookshelf with glass doors.

"Good. Now let's get the fuck out of here, before I grow a pussy."

A/N: Life changing trip to IKEA, because why not? Again more fluff and domestic Ben, NOT ASHAMED. But I will say that there will be a buildup to more angst and drama in a few chapters that will move the story along. I promise I have a plan for this one. And that plan includes dark and angsty things because we all know I can't seem to escape that. 😭

Thank you so much for reading!! If you'd like to be added to my taglist please let me know :)

Taglist:

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@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies

[feyhunter78]

Jealously, Jealously

Couldn’t find a fanart I felt fit so have a gif!

Nerd!Miguel Masterlist

You’re not jealous, you can’t be jealous, because Miguel isn’t yours. You’re friends, study buddies, lab partners, platonic, platonic, platonic, so why do you feel so shitty watching him and this random girl—Ava she said her name was—flirting?

Maybe it’s because she’s flipping her long silky black hair over her shoulder, batting her thick naturally dark lashes up at him, laughing at his jokes with a laugh that sounds like music, and Miguel’s eating it up.

You’ve never seen Miguel so confident, and it hurts. You’ve been friends with him for ages now, and he’s never been so forward, so clearly sure of himself when he’s with you. He’s talking, leaning down to hear her better, letting her touch his arm, his chest, even his fucking neck.

You stew in silence, arms crossed, watching them from your place behind the Sig Epp letters.

You were supposed to be getting lunch, walking, and talking with Miguel, only stopping to say hello to Brett, but then this Ava girl showed up and all of a sudden, she and Miguel have to speak privately.

“What’s got you all heated?” Brett asks, bumping his shoulder into yours, joining you against the low wall, behind the giant painted letters.

They’re what four-five feet tall, painted in the Sig Epp colors, made of plywood and some other material you don’t really recognize, and don’t care to. They’re good to hide behind, and that’s what you’re doing.

“I’m not heated.” You tell him, rolling your eyes when Ava playfully squeezes Miguel’s bicep, her laugh ringing out through the courtyard.

“Tsst, ouch.” Brett says, jerking away from you dramatically, acting as if touching your shoulder burned him.

“You’re not funny.” You deadpan, averting your eyes from Miguel and onto Brett.

“I’m a little funny.” He says, “remember when I got Dr. Blevins to do that TikTok trend with me?”

“The one where you tried to guess which of the other professors in the department he hated?” You snort, turning to face him, leaning against the sun-bleached bricks.

It was pretty funny, Dr. Belvins wasn’t the nicest man on the planet, but who would’ve known he had such a hatred for Dr. Vervid? Though you shouldn’t be too surprised, there weren’t many people who liked the Organic Chemistry professor.

“See I’m funny.” Brett says, wriggling his eyebrows victoriously.

“You did one funny thing.”

He presses a hand to his heart. “You wound me y/n, truly, down to the deepest chasm of my very soul.”

“Alright, Shakespeare,” you laugh, “time to phone it in.”

Brett takes an exaggerated bow.

You roll your eyes but giggle. Brett is a goof, and while usually you find it all a bit ridiculous, it does the trick, the uncomfortable emotions you’re feeling lessen.

“No, but seriously, you seem upset, is everything alright?” Brett’s voice takes on a more serious tone, and he gives you a sympathetic smile. “I know we’re not close like you and Miguel, but I do consider you a friend, and if I can help, I’d like to.”

Are you crying? You think you might cry. “Shut up, why are you being so nice to me?”

“I’m a nice guy, not like that, an actual nice guy, a nice person.”

You sigh and roll your neck, letting it hang to one side as you look at Brett. “I think I might be jealous?”

“Oh, of Miguel and Ava? Yeah, I see them hanging out sometimes, she’s hot.”

Gut punch.

“You’ve seen them hanging out?” You dig your nails into your palm to try and keep the emotion out of your voice. Thankfully it works.

“Sometimes, used to see them hanging out before you two got close, but it’s picked back up recently.” Brett says, casting a surprisingly subtle glance over at the dark-haired pair.

Double gut punch.

“Oh…cool.” You reach for your phone preparing to either hide in it or text Miguel and tell him you have to miss lunch, either way you’re pretty sure you’re going to start crying.

Brett snaps to attention and reaches out to put a hand on your shoulder. “Shit, y/n, I didn’t even—I’m sorry.”

“No, no, Miguel and I are just friends, I don’t care who he hangs out with, it doesn’t matter to me.”

Totally doesn’t matter that he defended you against Kron, that he said he wanted to have a daughter with you. That you almost kissed, that he’s coming with you to the semiformal, that you eat lunch together every day during the week, totally doesn’t matter.

“Oh well...I don’t think they’re dating or anything, Miguel isn’t like that, he wouldn’t…” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “He’s not the kind of guy to lead someone on.”

“I said we’re just friends. Bye Brett.” You snap, shoving your phone back in your pocket and readjusting your backpack as you speed walk in the opposite direction of Miguel. Hoping fervently that you can make it back to the Humanities Building, then to the parking lot, before he notices you’re gone.

Of course, you have no such luck, and you can hear Miguel calling out to you, then your phone lights up in your hand.

“Hey.” You say, keeping your voice calm.

“Y/N, where are you going, I thought we were getting lunch?” His voice is so sweet, so concerned, and you hate him for it.

“I forgot my next class was canceled, and I have a big essay coming up, I’m just going to go home and work on it.” You lie, digging your car keys out of your backpack.

“Oh…okay…” You can picture him, standing there all alone, looking down at his feet, clutching the strap of his backpack protectively, his voice thick with disappointment.

You hate yourself for feeling guilty, but then you remember he’s not alone, he has Ava.

“Just go eat lunch with Ava, you guys seemed pretty cozy, don’t let me interrupt.” You can’t stop the venom from dripping into your voice.

“Interrupt? Y/N, you wouldn’t be—no, I’m not—Ava is just—it’s not like that.” Clearly, the words are spilling past his lips faster than his brain can process them.

“I don’t care, go, have fun, do whatever you want.” It’s petty, and unreasonable, you know, but you’re hurt, and you want him to hurt too. You hang up and put your phone on do not disturb, slamming your car door shut and heading home as you burst into tears.

Directly connected parts are: Flowers On Your Doorstep and Semiformal Kisses and Cat Fights

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows, @36namey

[milesmolasses]

maybe e-42 miles x black fem fashion designer reader 👉🏾👈🏾 and she makes all different types of clothes like street wear and party dresses, and some girls even pay her to make their prom dresses and miles being her model for stuff.

my lil fashionista (e-42 miles x african!reader)

— I’ve added a small twist to this request I hope you don’t mind

— designer… but make it african

— this song has been on my mind all day

— ⚠️: use of the igbo language, some things may be confusing because they are written in broken african english, cursing, this one is on the longer side

in your room scattered with fabrics and sewing materials, you were on the phone with a last-minute client who wanted a prom dress done for her daughter. she was a close friend of your mothers and she called you expecting you to help her out on this last minute request, with prom only a month and a half away. but hey, if she was willing to pay double, who were you to refuse?

she was sending designs and inspo pictures, as well as different materials she wanted you to use on the dress. your mind was reeling, trying to write everything down as she spoke to you on the phone about all of the measurements of her daughter.

"ah, see the picture I sent to you now on whatsapp, that's kind of the style of dress we want for her. the long skirt one," she yelled into the phone. you could hear all the traffic from the road she was on, as well as gospel music from the speakers of her car.

"aunty have you changed the colors of the dress now?" you asked, praying she would say no as you looked at the photo she sent. you had already taken the fabrics out of your wardrobe and laid them out, so a change in colors would only stress you out more.

"no, same colors—"

just then, the woman was cut off by the sound of your phone ringing. you could hear it buzz on the wood of your floor, and when you went to check on who it was, you saw it was your boyfriend miles. "ahhh leave me nah!" you groaned as you picked up the phone to decline his call.

"are you talking to me?"

"no! no no no aunty, someone called me sorry," you pleaded, not wanting to seem rude to the woman who was paying you good money to make a dress on such short notice. you haphazardly threw your phone to your bed as you focused on remembering all of the measurements she told you and writing them down.

"biko (please), what did you say her busts were?" you requested.

"ahn that one is—"

just as she was about to tell you the measurement, your phone cut off. looking at the device on your bed, you saw miles was calling you again. you sucked your teeth as you declined his call, once again. knowing miles, you placed your phone on dnd to make sure you wouldn't get any more of his calls.

you sighed as you just decided to re-take all the girls' measurements whenever she got to your house.

"am nearing your house now, can you buzz me in?" the woman on the other line asked of you.

"of course, just tell me whenever you ring," you said. the commotion and traffic you heard before were gone. "she must be close," you thought to yourself.

you threw your notebook and pen alongside your phone on your bed as you went to focus on the half-finished dress on your mannequin. it was your own prom dress that you chose to make completely on your own, choosing to go for a more cultural look this prom season. you left the needle and thread looped through the sleeve of the dress to attend to the client you had on the phone, but now you went back to the dress you were working on.

the top of the dress was a beautiful, deep, dark red corset with jewels decorating the bust of the dress going all the way up to the sleeves. a swirl pattern of shimmering vines decorated the rest of the top portion. the bottom of the dress—a beautiful maroon color that was also decorated in shimmering, floral vines— went straight down in a tight fit to accentuate all your curves. not yet added to the dress, was the matching train, which you would sew later.

you were about to make the last loop around before finishing off the first sleeve of the dress when you heard a buzz from the front of your apartment. sticking a random hole in the dress to place the needle in, you tugged your bonnet off your head and ran to the buzzer. after buzzing the woman in, you waited by your door patiently.

after a few minutes, your doorbell rang. after waiting a few seconds to make it seem like you weren't literally right next to the door, you unlocked the door and swung it open.

"Y/N, kedu ka ị mere? (how are you),” she asked, leaning in to hug you.

“adị m mma aunty (i'm fine aunty), I was just finishing up a dress i’m working on," you responded. you looked at the girl right next to the woman; she looked just about your age.

"Adaoma you don't greet? is this not your agemate?" she looked to her daughter who made a face of discomfort. you understood exactly what she was feeling as her mother said that, so you shook your head as you chuckled and smiled.

"it's fine aunty, come inside both of you," you affirmed as you walked backward into your apartment.

as they sat down on your couch, you turned to your kitchen and headed straight for the fridge, "do you guys want some lemona—"

you couldn't even get the sentence out as you heard your buzzer buzz again. without thinking, you walked to your door and buzzed whoever the perpetrator was in.

"ah ah, are you having visitors?"

"no, it's probably just my mom. I think she forgot her key on her way to the market," you reasoned. walking back to your kitchen, you poured two glasses of lemonade into glasses and walked back to the living room couch where your visitors stayed.

"thank you my dear," said the woman. her daughter mumbled a small "thank you" as you handed them the cool drink.

"I have the measurements written down somewhere, hold on," you said, running to your room.

as you were searching your room for the small book you kept full of measurements and designs, you heard your doorbell.

"fuck where is it?" you whispered, scolding yourself for losing it so easily. your bell rang again, and then it rang a third time.

"oh my god— I'M COMING!"

finally, after recking your room completely, you found the book on your bed right next to your phone. you were too happy to beat yourself up about how stupid you were to not check your bed first, so you ran back to the living room, placing your things on the small coffee table.

you muttered an apology to your guests as you turned to the door, unlocking it. who you expected to see was your mom frantically telling you about how she left her keys at home before going to the market. however, what you were met with instead only made you even more annoyed.

"why you not answering the phone, hm?" came a deep, calm voice from the other side of the door.

sighing, you calmly tried to collect yourself, tilting your head back and saying a small prayer to the lord up above.

"miles, please. i'm doing something right now," you pleaded. the last thing you needed was your passive-aggressive boyfriend pissing you off when you already had so much to get done.

tilting his head forward, he peeked into your apartment looking at the people sitting on your couch. when he saw that the older woman was wearing a blouse with an African print—an Ankara blouse— he knew to watch his mouth when he entered your home.

"Y/N, who is that? is it your mum?" she questioned. sighing, you opened the door wider, revealing miles standing there with his head down facing you.

"no aunty, one of my friends came to visit," you said, putting on the fakest smiles known to man.

"introduce yourself, friend—" you grunted that last part, hoping miles got the message.

"good afternoon ma'am, my name is miles," he said walking up to the lady to shake her and her daughter's hands. he gave a small smile to seem less intimidating than he usually did and straightened out his back a little.

pulling miles away from your guest, you excused the both of you, walking over to the kitchen. "are you insane just coming here like you own this place? you couldn't even bother to call me before showing up here?" you whispered, not needing anyone but miles to hear you.

"excuse me, but you're the one ignoring my calls and leaving me on delivered. I sent you like ten messages but you ain't even look at them huh?" he accused sounding annoyed with you. you thought back to when he was calling you and you ignored him completely, going as far as to put your phone on dnd.

"if you did look at my messages, you would've seen one of me telling you I'm coming over. but you obviously too busy for me," he chuckled, but ain't shit was funny to him. "my fault, lemme get out your way—"

cutting him off, you grabbed his hand under the kitchen island to make sure any lingering eyes couldn't see you. you never want him to feel like you don't have time for him, miles was everything to you.

"no, no i-i'm sorry miles, i'm just a lil stressed right now. i'm handling a lot... don't go, baby stay."

he sighed looking around the room. he was definitely mad in the moment, but he understood what you were dealing with right now at this moment. he squeezed your hand from under the island and nodded his head yes. immediately, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a hug with a smile.

that was until you heard a cough coming from your living room. turning your head, you were met with the eyes of a wide-eyed woman with her hands folded on her lap, seeming very uncomfortable. almost immediately, you shoved miles away from you and turned to face the woman.

"ahem, uh, s-sorry aunty— i'll be right there," you said looking down at your feet ashamed. you turned to miles and gave a small head nod towards your bedroom, signaling him to reside in there until you were finished.

It only really took around 30 minutes for you to discuss plans on what the dress would look like, and to take the girl's measurements. she showed you her pinterest board of prom dresses she had in mind and you even helped her settle on a photo for you to refer to while making the dress. after the thirty minutes were over, you gifted them some puff puffs your mom cooked earlier that morning and bid them farewell.

sighing in exhaustion, you walked back to your bedroom ready to relax and focus on your current project, only to find your boyfriend hovering over it. he looked absolutely entranced at the sight of the dress, from the jewels sewn into the plunging neckline to the way the rest of the dress shinned whenever the sun from your window hit it just right. he'd seen you wear clothes like this to weddings and whatnot, but every time you managed to blow him away with how effortlessly gorgeous you looked in them.

"it's stunning mi reina," he said, finally turning to face you. you walked up closer to him and leaned your entire body into his, wrapping your arms around his waist. "you think so?"

"baby I know so. you don't even have the dress on and i'm blown away," he reassured to you as he held you closer to him.

looking up at him you reached up to peck his lips, that was until he moved his head back to avoid your kiss.

"what's wrong?" you questioned.

he smirked down at you as he shrugged his shoulders, "nothin', i'm just wondering when you gon' make me a nice suit to match ya dress."

— lord have mercy

— i’m like dying here

— please read lol (｀_´)ゞ

[angelsdxmise]

METANOIA

Pt. 2 to ORPHIC

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 when Bakugou is paired with a girl that’s not spared a glance for a project, he wants to explode. Why does his mind keep going blank when he looks at you then?

Contains: tiny bit of angst, readers a little hopeless, imagine the rest urself, there might be profanity idk i dont remember

a/n: 2.7k words 😔 plz consider reblogging and sending requests! btw pls remember italics mean reader is thinking. enjoy the fic ❤️

Your dorm room matched your personality somehow, and then again, it didn’t. 

It had posters, a TV, and a bookshelf filled with figures from your favorite mangas, decorative sculptures everywhere, and classic LEDs. Your room seemed to also have a main color, which was black. Though it managed to maintain some color. 

Thank the gods you had cleaned your room when you finished eating, because if you hadn’t it would’ve been very much flammable. You usually wouldn’t be worried about it, but since someone who has quite a destructive quirk turned up to your dorm demanding to be let in, you felt relieved.

A low, calming rhythm played on your speaker as you reviewed your slides. An herbal incense flooded your senses as you relaxed. You were so calm that you almost forgot Bakugou was next to you.

“Hey, I think you forgot to add my quirk’s drawbacks.” You flatly spoke. You never looked away from your laptop as your brows furrowed in utter concentration. You moved your hair out your face, slightly fanning yourself as you breathed out short huffs. You closed your balcony doors and turned your fan off to have your incense earlier, which you may have regretted.

Bakugou held back a long groan as he added another slide. “Tell me what they are.” He grumbled in a stale tone. He wanted to plug his nose and ears since he wasn’t used to such a strong smell. While you explained your quirk drawbacks and the reason for them, he cut you off in the middle of the sentence to ask,

“Is that a Rob Zombie poster?” 

Your head perked up in acknowledgment as you lost focus due to your zeal. Does he like Rob Zombie? Am I dreaming right now? “Uh, yeah.. do you--do you not like him?” You stammered out. A pang of shame ran through you, he was just a boy with a bad temper. There’s no point in being so scared.

“Why else would I be asking about it?!” He yelled, which put a beaming smile on your face. “Sorry! You don’t—I mean, you just surprised me!” You quickly explained, “I can play some of his songs, or you could just put your own playlist on my speaker.”

You took his phone and connected it to the speaker which temporarily paused your music, and handed it back to him which he aggressively snatched. Once he finally picked a playlist after scrolling endlessly, you actually ended up having similar music tastes. “I never took you for someone who liked a lot of rock bands, but for some reason, I’m not that surprised.” You played with the bracelets on your wrists as you admitted the last part of your sentence.

Bakugou took note of this and took his fingers off his keyboard. “You’ve learned something new then.” He shut his laptop and put his study supplies in the bag. Your voice made him pause for a moment. “Could you uh, send me the playlist? You don’t have to, I just like your taste.” 

He set his bag down and looked at you. “Give me your phone number.” He abruptly said, taking you off guard. “Huh?!” 

“I need your number to send the link, dumbass!” He snatched your phone out of your hands and made a new contact of himself. He didn’t even bother giving it a name. He kept muttering words you couldn’t make out, so you felt a little scared. When he stood, you quickly called out a thank you which he acknowledged with a small wave before closing your door.

At the sound of your door closing, you just sat there processing what happened. A smile didn’t leave your face and you didn’t feel any shame to force it to go away. Days like this were unusual for someone like you. Being on good terms with the most hot-headed student at UA. It’s best to say you had a peaceful sleep that night.

For once you had hope for your school life. Maybe you could save your social life a little. But, of course, your desires seem impossible to reach once you return to class. 

Your head rested against your desk as one of your hands reached down to pull your tights down, then came back up to cover your ear. It seems today was a cheerful day for the others as you overheard many of them talking about how their project would get full scores for how lucky they were with their partners.

Then, there were the booming voices of annoying teenage boys. Especially Mineta. You felt like you should start wearing pants to school in fear of him crawling under your desk and violating you in every way possible. Is this what Hell is like? Am I in the deepest circle?

Thankfully the class had quieted down immediately when Aizawa burst through the Class 1-A doors that were ginormous for some apparent reason. His voice made your head lift up in a stalled manner, as you felt sluggish today. You had been skipping on your nightly skincare, so your eyebags were still a little noticeable. 

You set your head in your palm as you wrote what you could manage, but ended up dozing off near the last hours. Even with a good sleep, you still managed to be exhausted. It’s difficult to live. 

You and your mom had left your dad and moved to Musutafu. You had to take what you could get when you got accepted into U.A. Honestly, you felt envious of people such as Yaoyorozu and Aoyama. You never really bought from designer brands when times were rough, and your mother had to alternate jobs.

As school ends and you’re on your way back to the dorms, you decide to take a quick walk down to any convenience store you can find. You held onto the strap of your backpack as you walked into the closest one, your eyes scanning for some bento sets. 

Once your eyes had landed on them, you selected one and made sure you had enough money to spare after purchasing it. Usually, the cashier for this store was shitty and had an attitude for no reason. But of course, you didn’t know his life so you tried to not judge. 

Confusion took hold of your senses as you didn’t see any cashier there. Oh well. You placed half the amount the bento costs on the counter, not necessarily stealing it, but giving what you felt he deserved. You put the rest of your money in your backpack’s side pocket as you made your way back to your dorm. 

A long walk is an understatement. It felt like 10 years was what it took to walk up that hill, wiping your forehead constantly as short huffs came from your throat. You opened the door to the dorms and darted straight for the elevator. The cool air made you relax for a moment before a beep came, and your feet dragged you out.

You woke up as your eyes spotted a small pouch sitting in front of your door. What’s this?.. you mused for a minute before picking it up and opening the door, a sudden warmth hitting your skin as you reached for your fan. You shut the door behind you as you hurriedly sat on your bed to open it up.

You reached for a small note that was inside which read, “I don’t know how you handle that herbal shit, use this.” Oh, it came from Bakugou. Your hands found another item, a cylinder-shaped object that made your eyes brighten in excitement as you quickly pulled it out.

He got me incense! An expensive one at that, no way! You flipped the incense packaging around, which read ‘Kitowa’. 

You stood to turn your fan off and went to your nightstand to replace your current incense with the gifted one. Once your lighter’s flame had hit the tip of the incense stick, a light woody smell filled your room which made your body slump and release a huge breath you didn’t know you were holding.

I should send him a thanks, it’s the least I could do. You reached over for your phone and opened his contact. You quickly typed out a ‘thank you for the incense Bakugou! It smells really nice.’ and stared at your message for a moment. You were pondering over your own message, and also making the realization that you were nervous.

You were genuinely nervous and giddy at the same time to send this text. You got over it anyway and made haste to throw your phone across the bed before kicking your shoes off and face-planting into your pillow. You didn’t make an effort to change as you succumbed to the exhaustion.

A loud knock woke you up, your eyes didn’t open as you sat up, trying to process what was going on. Another loud knock sounds and your eyes shoot open. What the hell? “Coming!” you groan out as you stand from your bed. Stumbling over your shoes and bag you reach your door, opening the handle. You’re met with the face of Bakugou. Okay, I’m definitely awake now..

“Change your clothes. There’s dinner downstairs and you haven’t come down at all.” His jagged voice interrupted your thoughts. “Wait—whaaa?..” You muttered, rubbing your eyes. “Hurry up.” He grabs the handle and closes your door.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have the fattest grin on your face after he closed your door. You dug through your clothes, throwing on a pair of black sweatpants and a misfits band shirt. You grabbed your phone and stopped for a moment as you looked at the notification.

***: it's no problem 4:03 P.M.

***: where the hell are you? dinners been ready for 10 minutes come down 6:47 P.M.

He ended up coming to your dorm 5 minutes after he sent the last message. You put some socks on before opening your door up again, and you tried to swallow down the lump in your throat as you saw Bakugou with his back leaning against the wall, with his arms crossed.

His signature frown was still plastered across his face as his eyes set on you. “Move your feet faster, extra.” He rasped out, already heading for the elevator, you quickly followed behind and attempted to make an effort to hide the shock on your face.

He somewhat punched the common room button, and you flinched when he did.

He pressed the button to close the doors more gently.

The ride down was a bit awkward, but you found comfort in the silence. Once the doors had opened, you walked out behind him. He grabbed your wrist suddenly and leisurely pulled you to his side as he kept walking, never letting go until you made it to the kitchen.

A few classmates noticed and pointed it out to the rest, as you lightly scratched the back of your neck in embarrassment. I guess I’d be staring too if I saw someone with such a bad temper hanging around me. you thought as you grabbed a bowl. “Get me one too.” Bakugou insisted, and you stopped for a second. Reaching your other hand up, you said, “You haven’t eaten yet?” as you grabbed the second bowl and set it down. 

“I’m just grabbing seconds,” He began to fill his bowl as he glanced at you. “Everyone’s already eaten. The losers are gonna do a movie night.” Your eyes lost their light at the sound of that. Of course, nobody told you. You drowned in your own dismal as you filled up your bowl with food. The smell made you feel slightly better, but it was nowhere near happy.

Once you were done, you turned to Bakugou. “Thanks for bringing me down, I’m just gonna head back upstairs.” You spoke in a brittle voice, and before you could reach the elevator you heard his footsteps coming from behind you. You could tell he made an effort to catch up.

He didn’t turn his eyes to you or offer an explanation after he pressed his floor's button, and didn’t allow you to go to yours. You frowned, “What’re you doing?” He finally looks at you. “Back to my dorm.”

whaa.. HUH?

“Wait—what?” You couldn’t process his sudden words as he took your wrist once more in his free hand, dragging you along with him to his dorm. He opened his door and ushered you to the bed before closing it.

You reluctantly sat down, as it was the second and only time you’d been in his dorm for any purpose other than school. He sighed as he sat down with his back against the bed frame, and pulled his laptop out from his bag.

“If you don’t sit next to me, you’re not gonna be able to watch the movie, you idiot.” His words made your ears blaze with heat and you carefully scooted next to him, making sure not to spill any food. “Got anything you wanna watch?” He asked as he took a bite of the hotpot.

“Hmm.,” Your eyes drifted to the side as you thought, “What about The Florida Project?” You suggested, “It’s not on Netflix, we’d probably have to find a random website to watch it.” 

He smiled faintly, he’s seen that before and so have you. “I’m fine with that.” His tone was softer as he clicked away to find a website to watch the movie. As he pressed play you scooted a tiny bit closer to watch it.

Midway through the movie you both finished your bowls and made slight comments on every scene, and he evilly laughed at most of the sad scenes while you scolded him for it.

As the movie reached the end, you had been leaning against him with your head on his shoulder. He had one hand behind his head and the other resting against his thigh. You nearly cried.

As the movie finished, you fell asleep against him. He abandoned the movie a while ago, but not on purpose. He took a little time to think about you since you’d been running around his mind without consent anyway.

Not only were you pretty, but your personality seemed to be a calming point for him. You, yourself, seemed to tell him to chill. You liked similar things, and you introduced him to incense which he secretly had on his shelf, above his bed. He had also ended up putting in orders for a few new posters after seeing your room.

He took the chance of your sleeping state to quietly shut off his laptop and hesitantly reached his hand around your body to rest it on your hip. He rested his head against yours as he rubbed small circles on your skin.

You shifted a little and his heart jumped, not wanting you to think he was some sort of pervert. Bakugou was slightly sure that his classmates were asleep, so he decided to carry you back to your dorm.

You awoke the next morning in your bed, sluggishly rising up and stretching as your joints popped. 4:32 read the time, and you definitely couldn’t go back to sleep now. You decided to take the extra time and get ready for school.

You smoothed out your skirt as you took your seat, and this time you didn’t rest your head in your palm. You felt like you finally rested your body. Your eyes darted up as you heard a thud in front of you. It was.. Bakugou?

He crashed into the seat in front of you, putting his elbows on your desk and turning his body to you. “Let’s uh.. study at that new cafe that opened up.” He looked away as he huffed the words out, suddenly interested in the outside world.

Is he asking me on a date or something? “Oh.. I mean,” His heart dropped and his brows furrowed as you started to talk. He had doubts about you saying no, and it seemed they were coming true.

“Sure.. I was gonna ask you, actually.” You giggled, setting your hands on the desk as you tapped your nail occasionally against it. He turned back to you, and he had a genuine smile plastered across his face as he didn’t leave this time immediately. He stayed, and he talked with you.

And he would do it many, many more times.

pls do not post anywhere w/out permission

[buckyalpine]

Catch Me If You Can AU

Remember this? (Mob Bucky x single mom police officer reader) Which lead to a part 2 and a part 3? Here is a lil drabble for that AU. For context if you don’t feel like reading all three parts: Mob Bucky falls in love with the pretty police officer who has been on his ass for ages. Not to mention she has a son, 8 year old Jordan, who sees Bucky as a hero no less. After a little kidnapping, a little flirting and going full on protective mode when her shitty ex tries to come back around, Buck finally gets to call her his. She’s a little hesitant at first but she falls for his baby blues and sweet charm. Here’s what happens a little while after you’ve been together. So much emotional fluff. 

-

“What is it J” Bucky curiously inspected the box that was placed onto his lap with a little bow tied on the top, wrapped up with carefully selected colorful paper. Jordan had spent the entire night shifting through different colors he thought Bucky would like and redoing the taping until it was perfect, hardly getting a wink of sleep, too excited for morning to come. 

“Open it!” Jordan grinned, though his heart was beating erratically on the inside, holding his breath when Bucky picked up the box again. The mob boss had taken the month off for Jordan’s 10th birthday, insisting they would do whatever he wanted but your son insisted he just wanted to spend time together. Still, Bucky pulled out all the stops, leaving a mountain of gifts in Jordan's room from him alone. Breakfast was filled with pancakes, every topping imaginable, fresh croissants, pastries and milkshakes along with a very hungry Steve, Sam and Peter. You were all still seated at the table finishing up while Jordan looked at Bucky intently. 

“Shouldn’t I be the one getting you presents” Bucky snorted while you watched him carefully unwrap the ribbon before gently taking the wrapping paper apart revealing a plain white cardboard box with an envelope taped onto the front.

“Should I read this or see what’s inside first?” Bucky asked curiously. 

“Uh-You can read the letter first” Jordan peeked up, hoping to hide his anxiousness while Bucky took out the paper, unfolding a hand written letter. 

Dear Dad,

I talked to mommy about this and this is what I want for my birthday. I thought it would wait till Christmas but I really wanted it now. 

No pressure, you can always say no but I hope you’ll say yes.

Love,

Jordan

Bucky’s brows furrowed, looking at the documents inside the box, his entire world stopping as he read the words printed on the paper. 

“J?”

Jordan shuffled on his feet nervously, afraid to meet Bucky’s eyes, only looking up when Bucky reached out to gently squeeze his hand. 

“Are-are you sure?”

“I’m sure” Jordan whispered, missing the tears that streamed down Bucky’s face, pulling the little one into his chest, kissing the top of his head. “So you’ll sign it? You’ll adopt me?” Jordan looked up hopefully while Bucky let out a wet chuckle. 

“Y’know you’re already mine, right? I want this but these are just papers. I love you no matter what” Bucky said firmly, meaning every word. You bit your lip to keep from sobbing seeing your two favorite boys attached at the hip while Bucky signed the document, still keeping a protective arm around Jordan. Jordan silently nodded, letting out a sniffle before squeezing Bucky tightly, feeling safer than ever. You giggled to yourself, seeing Bucky’s usual hard ass men discreetly wiping their eyes with Steve doing the worst job. 

“G-get it together” Sam hissed, swallowing tightly, scrunching his nose in an attempt to keep from sniffling again while Steve rolled his eyes, no longer trying to hold back as the first whimper escaped. Then a full on sob. Peter hadn’t bothered trying to put up a front at all, loudly blowing his nose into a tissue. 

“Mommy, look!” he took he sheet and held it up proudly for you all to see to see, while Bucky pulled you in, kissing you sweetly. 

“Thank you” You whispered just for Bucky to hear, melting into his touch as he silently squeezed your hip. 

“Best. Birthday. Ever” Jordan stated, clutching the paper to his chest while Bucky grinned proudly, deciding he’d have a conversation with his son soon about asking his mommy to marry him. “Just one more thing”

“What else do you want baby, daddy already got you everything and more” You ruffled Jordan’s hair, your son thinking for a moment before his eyes lit up. 

“A brother” Jordan shrugged innocently while Bucky smirked, giving you a wink when no one was looking. 

“Oh, he can make that happen right now” Sam cackled, already seeing the feral look on Bucky’s face while you shook your head, ignoring the way your stomach flipped at the thought. 

“Really? Or a sister” Jordan smiled, just wanting a sibling to play with. “I’m okay with either” 

“Jordan-” 

“Shhh, let’s give our son what he wants” You were about to question his request when Bucky immediately hushed you, giving Steve a pointed look, his best friend nodding understandingly.

“Sooo how about we go on some roller coasters all day so we can give your mommy and daddy some time to get you that” Steve grinned while Sam wiggled his eyebrows a you both, your son already half way out of the dining room, off to get ready. 

“That sounds like a great plan” Bucky let his hands slide down to your hips, pulling your body flush against his. 

“You’re a menace” You bit back a shy smile while Bucky hugged you tightly from behind, seconds away from throwing you over his shoulder. 

“M’your menace baby” He cooed, his heart still full over getting to officially call Jordan his, “C’mon, we can’t keep J waiting” 

“You sure about this?” You asked, squeaking when he lifted you in his arms, taking you straight to bed as soon as they heard the front door shut, leaving the house completely empty.

“Very sure. Now come here, my son gets whatever he wants” Bucky practically pounced on you, making you giggle as he peppered you with kisses, throwing you on the bed. “Let’s make a baby, mama” 

[tojiscumdumpster]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ i. suguru

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⭑๋࣭ summary page

please refresh your memory of the content warnings that's mentioned on the summary page. this chapter will include s*xual activites.

Ah, fuck, baby. Just like that.”

 No. I lied. Not just like that. 

 I’ve been in the bathroom for twenty minutes with some chick, whose name I can’t remember, getting probably the worst head I’ve ever had in my life. I’m pretty sure I’m still soft, but her self-esteem won’t allow her pride to be tarnished by the lack of abilities she has to make me come. 

 She approached me while I was having drinks with Satoru, Shoko, and Nanami. Well, really Shoko and Nanami because Satoru just keeps getting sugary milkshakes. Anyways, that’s not the point. She approached me. I thought she had nice lips, which I thought could be utilized to please me, but instead, she couldn’t stop talking.

 “Do you like that, baby?” she asked, for maybe the tenth time. 

 I groaned. Though, not in the way that she thinks. I couldn’t do this anymore, and I knew her knees were hurting. “No. Look, Akane,” I sigh, pulling her off me and lifting her to meet my face. “I don’t—”

 “Ayame,” she interrupted. I gave her a confused look. “My name is Ayame. Not, Akane.”

 My right eye twitched. “Okay, Ayame . Look,” I began, adjusting myself back in my pants. “I don’t like it. It’s okay, though. Maybe it’s not you. Maybe I’m just tired. But hey, I’ll get your number and we can try this some other time. Okay?”

 “Ugh, whatever.” 

 I eventually got her number before we made our way out of the bathroom. I’m not going to text her. I was just trying to make her feel better.

 My plans were never to hook up with anyone tonight, let alone leave my apartment. But Satoru insisted I needed to come out of my shell more. 

 I’m pretty sure that was code for, you need to get laid.

 I argued with him that I don’t need anything. It wasn’t hard for me to find someone to have sex with. I’ve just been on a break because I haven’t found anyone who matches my libido or someone I actually enjoyed.

 Don’t get me wrong—most of the women I’ve been with are beautiful. Physically, my type. However, they’re just too boring. Too prissy. It’s like they’re trying to prove something to me when I fuck them. 

 The unnecessary loud moaning.

 The unnatural facial expressions when they come.

 Not wanting to be kissed after I eat their pussy, which I find strange because why wouldn’t you want to taste yourself? Questionable .

 Anyways. This is the last time I’m allowing Satoru to drag me out of my apar—

 My thoughts were interrupted by someone running into me. 

 “Oh! I’m sorry.”

 That. . . That voice. Sultry. Raspy. All I heard were three words and I felt at ease. Her scent was alluring. Sweet. Delicate. I’m picking up notes of warm berries, creamy vanilla. Maybe cacao? She smells so fucking good. But when I looked at her? I’m convinced she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever fucking laid eyes on.

 Her complexion reminded me of autumn. Deep and warm. Those chestnut-colored doe eyes I knew I would become lost in if I didn’t look away. It didn’t take long before I took notice of the fullness of her lips. They were two different colors. Brown on top and pink on bottom, coated with a clear gloss.  Gosh, I want to suck them. I want to suck them so fucking badly until she becomes whiny. My cock is getting hard just thinking—

 “Hello?” she spoke again. 

  Suguru, what the fuck?

 I looked down and noticed my fingers were still caged around her soft flesh. I immediately pulled away. “S-Sorry,” I stammered. Why am I so damn nervous?

 She looked at me through narrow eyes with a hint of playfulness. “It’s okay. . . Well, enjoy your night.” 

 “Wait!” Before she turned away from me, I impulsively reached for her wrist to prevent her from leaving.

 Those brown hues that were amorous turned dark, daggers that penetrated my head. They were a warning to let her go. They make me want to be submit. So I didn’t let go.

 “What’s your name?”

 I still see the daggers in her eyes, however, she slightly raised her brows while tilting her head out of confusion— boldness —of my decision to not let go of her wrist. My expression is deadpan, but I feel heat rushing to my body, to my cock.

 She drags her eyes up my frame, stopping at the front of my pants that caused my dick to twitch in response. She chuckled, snatched her wrist, and walked away from me. 

 I stood where she left me, lust filled and wishful thinking about how desperately I want her. No, need her. And by the end of the night, I'll know how she feels around me.

Later that night. . .

 I sit at the booth, dividing my attention between the conversation being held at the table and the bar, where the woman I ran into earlier sits. I can’t stop thinking about fucking her. The image of her thick curves plays in my mind. She’s so sexy. That backless dress that clung to her hips drove me insane. I was craving those love handles. I wanted to hold them, bite them to leave territorial marks.  

 What the fuck is wrong with me? This instant lust was foreign to me. I don’t remember the last time my cock was this eager. Maybe never.

But it's just something about her that has arousal fucking burn through my veins.

 “Suguru!” Satoru’s voice tore me away from my perverted thoughts. 

 “Huh?” I answered, but my attention was still on the bar.

 He pouted. “Are you even listening to me?”

 “Uhm, yeah. You were talking about throwing a surprise party for Utahime.” I'm hoping I'm right because the last thing I need is to hear a speech about how I always ignore him.

 “No. That was thirty minutes ago.”

 “Okay, sorry. Repeat what you said.” 

 He sighed. “There’s no point. You’re not even looking at me. What are you even looking at over. . . Ohhh, I see.” I knew Satoru would begin mocking me based on his voice and how he slurped the remnants of probably his fourth milkshake tonight. “Aren’t you glad I dragged you out tonight? If I didn’t, you wouldn’t have seen her,” he says, scooting closer to nudge me. “She’s gorgeous.”

  I snapped my attention back to Satoru, glowering him.

 Why? She wasn't my girlfriend. I don’t even know her name, but she was off-limits. 

 I know she’s gorgeous. He didn’t have to fucking tell me that. 

 I decided not to play into his obvious game. My time can be used elsewhere, like sitting next to that beautiful woman. I’ve been watching her for the past three hours, seeing how several men, at least ten or more approached her with their advances. 

 She declined every single last one. But I didn’t care. Seeing her reject a couple of men would never hurt my ego. . . especially since I knew she’d be mine.

 I had nothing to worry about.

 I left the table for the second time tonight and this time, I’m not planning on returning. 

 Every step I took brought me closer to the woman of my dreams. Her rich scent starts to fill my senses and I'm almost positive I've developed a smell kink because of her.

 Shit, if she smells like that, I could only image how her pussy is. I'd do anything to run my nose between her folds.

  Focus, Suguru. You can’t go over there hard. 

 Yes, I can, and I will. 

 I was close enough to be in the shot of her peripheral, making her notice me. She sized me up before giving her attention back to the large televisions surrounding the bar.

 I smirked. She’s enticing. She may or may not make me work for pussy, but I don’t mind at all. 

 Of course, I’m a gentleman, so I asked if the seat next to her was taken. I’m sure the other guys asked her this same question. I saw her reject them. She didn’t say yes or no to me, so naturally I took it as a yes. 

 I nod at the bartender. “Open a tab for me. Double Hibiki on the rocks, and add this lovely lady’s tab onto mine,” I told him. 

 “I can pay for my tab,” she says, eyes remaining on the TV. 

 “I don’t remember saying that you couldn’t. Now did I?” I saw her roll her eyes, which made me chuckle. Fuck, I like her even more. “Are you going to tell me your name now?”

 She lightly scoffs. “Why are you being so clingy over a name? And common courtesy, you introduce yourself before asking for someone’s name. Do you lack mannerisms?” 

 Twenty-four words.

 That’s how many words she spoke to me, and I watched her plush lips pronounce every last syllable. 

 She speaks to me with such spice, but I know she’d sound so sweet while my cock is deep inside of her. 

 “You’re right. Maybe you can forgive my lack of mannerisms ,” I say, teasingly. “My name is Geto Suguru.”

 She finally gives me her attention, scanning my arms that are painted with tattoos before actually looking at my face, leisurely. But says nothing and returns to watch whatever is on TV. 

 I continued, “I didn’t get your name?” The bartender placed my whiskey in front of me and I gave him my gratitude while waiting for her name. 

 “Because I didn’t give it. What do you want anyways? Placed a bet with your friends to see if you could get an older woman’s number? Hm?”

 I threw my hands up in surrender, chucking. “No, and older? We’re probably the same age. I can even argue that you’re younger than me.”

 “Ha, I doubt it.”

 “Twenty-seven.”

 “Me or you?” she asks.

 “Me.” I take another sip of my drink. “You?”

 “Damn, you want my name and age? Should I give you my ID number, too?” 

  She’s such a fucking tease. 

 “I’ll settle for your name and age.” For now. 

 Her lips part into a smile that pulls strings inside my chest. “Settle?”

 I smirk. “I just want to make sure I can be in this territory.”

 We lock eyes. Hers shines curiosity and mine shines intent. I want her to understand that I’m not going anywhere unless it’s with her. For a moment, I allowed my eyes to fall on her gloss-coated lips, then the rest of her body to make my message clear. Something in me wanted the boldness to leak and tell her how badly I wanted her to fuck her, but I chose to play it safe. 

 “Thirty-five.”

 “Me or you?” I teased, earning another eye roll from her. 

 “And for your information,”—she raises her left hand—“territory off limits. I have a husband.”

 Oh, so she is married. 

 Funny she thinks that’s going to stop me. Like I’m supposed to give a fuck. 

 “Well, I think it’s silly that your husband is allowing such a beautiful woman such as yourself”—my eyes roam along her curves—“to come out alone and potentially have other men make a move on her. No?”

 She narrowed her eyes. “What are you trying to say, Geto? Just spit it out.”

  Say my fucking name like that again. 

 I got up from my seat, invading her personal space to ghost my lips along her ear, making it clear, “I want to fuck you. . . so badly. ” The last words came out as a faint whisper. 

 I stood there for a moment so my clear message could linger. If I didn’t know any better, her breathing quickened for a moment. I sat back in my seat and watched her attentively to see if I could catch a reaction. Her face showed none, but the subtle uncrossing and crossing of her legs told me everything I needed to know. 

 She’s aroused.

  Wet .

 Dripping. 

 But she didn’t say anything. Only cleared her throat and sipped on her near-empty glass of wine. 

 We sat in silence for at least ten minutes, and just when I was about to call the bartender for another round for the both of us, she stood up. She started walking away, and rather than reaching for her wrist like I did the last time, I watched her sway her full hips in the direction of the restrooms. She has been drinking, so of course she probably needs to go clear her system. However, the small look over her shoulders in my direction said otherwise. 

 I chugged the rest of my whiskey, pulled out cash, leaving more than needed, and followed her. 

Our lips collided, kissing recklessly like two horny college kids at a frat party. I felt myself becoming greedy and eager to have my hands run along her curves. Her tits, waist, neck—I didn't know which part of her body to focus on because having under the touch of my hands feels so fucking good. 

 And it didn't help hearing those faint whimpers every grip and nip on her flesh I left. 

 Maybe my movements are fervent, but I don't give a fuck. Sucking on soft lips to taste those sweet sounds is all I've thought about since I laid my eyes on her. Kissing her alone could make me come in my pants. 

 My cock is screaming for a release, being uncomfortable due to the restraint of my pants that keeps its hardness from fully erecting. I’m in between wanting to take my time with her and being eager to fuck her, so I choose the latter.

 I lifted her with ease onto the sink and break out kiss to drag my lips across her flesh. I suck, nip, and lick that sweet neck of hers. Her whimpers turn into soft moans, and I couldn’t get enough of how sexy she fucking sounds. Not forced. Not trying to impress me. Just pure bliss. 

 I found my way between her breasts to leave open mouthed kisses while pinching her nipples through the sheer material of her dress. She reacts by lacing her fingers through my hair and pull me closer until I've suffocating against her chest.

 Fucking hell. She's needy, too?

 “Geto,” she moans. 

 “Hm? What’s wrong, pretty girl?”

 “ I need more. ”

 “You need more, what?” I ask, pulling down her straps to expose her breasts. 

 They’re so full. I’m met with the prettiest tits I've ever seen. Naturally saggy. Slight stretch marks. Dark brown peaks.

 They’re fucking perfect. 

 I continue, “Use your words. I don’t know what you need if you don’t tell me.” Then start sucking on her nipples. 

 Her gasps fill the bathroom, and while I’m showing love to her breasts, she begins hiking up her dress and spreads her legs. 

 I smell her. 

 How wet she is. 

 Her scent is telling me that she’s dying to cream on my cock. But I need to hear it. 

 “Geto. . . I need you to fuck me, ” she purrs.

 I stopped sucking her breasts to level with her face. Both of our hues are darkening with an appetite for each other. Lust. Hunger. A need for a release. I pulled out a condom from my pocket and held it in my mouth. Without breaking our contact, I unbuckle my pants to push down, along with my briefs, in one motion to free my dick. She looked down and sucked in a sharp breath before bringing her eyes back up to me. 

 She’s probably thinking that she can’t take me. But she will. That’s what I’m here for. To help her and make sure she does. 

 I ripped the wrapper with my teeth to roll on my cock, still not taking my eyes off her. I will never stop watching her. I need to see her reaction to everything I do.

 When I finish pushing her dress up to her waist.

 When her brows draw together when I pull her panties to the side and run my fingers along her puffy folds to rub her clit. 

 She looks so damn pretty when she’s pleased. I’m anticipating her face when I’m finally inside her. 

 I pull her to the edge of the sink, lining myself up to her entrance to push in. Though, I was met with an intrusion. My head was barely in.

 When was the last time she got fucked? 

 “Hm, stubborn we’re being. Aren’t we?” I taunt. 

 “It’s been a minute,” she teases back. 

 That’s fine. We’ll fix that.

 I bring my fingers back to her pussy to warm up her walls. The moment I slipped inside, she immediately clenched around my fingers. I only had two in and I felt like I was being pushed out again. I’m not going anywhere, though.

 I pump my digits in and out of her, pulling the most obnoxious and pornographic sounds of wetness. It’s like music to my ears. My only intent was to open her up a bit, but I could tell she was dying to come. 

 She looks at me through lidded eyes, softly panting and holding my wrist. I pick up my speed while now rubbing her clit with my thumb. Her pussy was squeezing the feeling out of my fingers, indicating she was about to come. So she held my hand in place to ride out her orgasm. 

 “ F-Fuck . . . Geto. I’m coming.” Earlier she was spicy to me, but now she cries and sounds so sweet dripping on my fingers.  

 She’s open and ready to come for me again. 

 I grabbed my cock to slam myself inside of her in one motion, which gifted me with a sharp cry I’m sure anyone outside could hear. She slapped her hand over her mouth to muffle the sounds of pleasure, but I shook my head and removed her hand. 

 “When I’m inside of you” —I pulled back— “When I’m making you cum.” —I pushed in— “You call me Suguru. Okay?” She nodded, placing her hand below my abdomen to hold my shirt up to prepare for my thrusts. “Good girl.”

 I didn’t let her adjust to my size. She could take it. I know she can. I start fucking her with hunger while keeping her legs apart. Gosh, she’s so fucking tight. So wet and warm. I doubt her husband knows what to do with her pussy because she wouldn’t be here crying on my cock. 

 I stuff every inch of me in her depths to pull out her moans. To watch how gorgeous she looks while being fucked. I want to ask her if can I feel her raw because this fucking rubber is preventing me from feeling her a hundred percent. But I don’t want to show my greed

 Not yet, at least. 

 I’ve never had pussy this good before. Pussy that’s leaking and creaming all over me. No one else deserves this but me. Fucking pussy this good is pure luck, and I feel like the luckiest man alive. 

 “You’re doing so good, Suguru. This feels so fucking good,” she cries. “Fuck me harder.”

 Her praise makes my dick twitch. Imagine being praised by someone with pussy as good as hers. 

  I’m so lucky. 

 However, her need for more makes me possessive. I ripped her away from the sink to place her back against the door and fucked her against it. The door jiggles from our intense fucking and it only jumps more the harder I fuck her. 

 “W-Wait. S-Suguru, it’s too. . . it’s too much, ” she stammered through breathy moans. "You’re too big."

 I clicked my tongue. “You begged me to fuck you harder and now it’s too much?” I shook my head. “Take this cock like a good girl because I know you can. I know you can. Just take it for me. Okay? Hm? Will you do that for me? I just want to make you come one more time. Is that okay?”

 Every word I spoke to her I felt her squeezing my cock. I can feel her coming again soon. She just needed reassurance. 

 “. . . Okay. I’ll take it, Suguru. I’ll take it .”

 I repeatedly pecked her lips. “Fuck. Thank you, angel. Thank you for giving me this good pussy. This fat wet pussy. Do you realize how good you feel?”

 I continued pounding into her pussy and noticed her tits falling out of her dress with every thrust I made. Her chestnut-colored hues glossed with pleasure and tears began pricking the corner of her eyes. 

 She's high off my fucking. Not her pathetic ass husband. I don't even know the guy, but how much of a dickhead you have to be to not worship as mesmerizing as she is?

 I think I’m infatuated. 

 No, I think I love her. She needs to be mine, and mine only.

 I’m the only motherfucker that needs to fuck her like this. I'm not letting this just be a one night stand. I’m going to make her come again tonight. Tomorrow. The day after. The weekend. All day, every day. Only me. 

  Suguru, relax.

 I’m so lost in my thoughts, but her heightened moans brought me back. She doesn’t care about being loud anymore. Yes. Cry my name loud enough so the whole restaurant knows who’s making you come like a slut in the bathroom. 

 “Yes. Oh, fuck, yes! Give it to me, Suguru. Give it,” she begs while rubbing her clit. “I’m about to come again.”

 I push past my thrusts, digging my fingers into her flesh to keep her in place. “Look at my pretty girl taking this fucking cock.” I fuck her with the energy of a lion chasing its prey. “Like this?”

  She nods, desperately. "Yes. Yes, like that, Sugu. I'm coming. I'm fucking coming."

 I’m indecisive about letting her moans roam freely or devouring them with a kiss. And she looks so pretty. That fucking smile while libido pumps through her veins has my cock jumping inside of her unruly. I’m doing my best to hold back my release, but the feel of her pussy is not making it easy. 

 I look down between us and fucking groan from seeing the creamy mess she’s making. My cock down to my balls. The hem of my shirt. Her thighs. Even after she orgasmed, her pussy grips me. How could I not be greedy?

 “One more?” I panted, smirking. 

 Her eyes blew wide. “S-Suguru, no. I don’t think I can.”

 “So why is your fucking pussy still squeezing me?” I was left with nothing but a whimper. “Exactly. Keep rubbing your clit until you come again and squirt all over me.”

 I remove her from the door to hook my arms under her thighs to have her meet with my intense thrusts. She hooks one of her hands around my neck while the other is being used to play with herself. I feel my balls growing heavy and slapping against her sex.

 I was recklessly fucking her pussy like I have no home training. I moan for her. Call for her despite me not knowing her name. I’m lucky. I’m so, so lucky. Fuck her husband. This pussy is mine. I don’t care if this is our first encounter. I’ll kill over pussy like this. 

 “Ahh, fuck!” I growled. My release crept up to the tip of my cock and sprayed the inside of the condom while I fucked her through both of our orgasms. She came between us, drenching my cock, shirt, and pants with her squirt. 

 I hope she doesn’t think this is the last time we’ll see each other.

 I rest my face on the side of her cheek, breaking heavily from that intense orgasm. I know the condom is filled to the stop. I had years worth of come built inside of me, and I still feel like I have more to give. 

 She looks at me, eyes still filled with lust and smirks. “Not too bad, Geto.”

 “I thought I told you to call me Suguru,” I say, leaving kisses on her neck.

 “You said only when I’m coming on your dick.”

 She listens.

 “I did say that. Didn’t I?” I let out an airy chuckle. “Still call me Suguru.”

 “Okay, Suguru .” It rolls off her tongue perfectly even when she’s not moaning. “I enjoyed myself.”

 I nipped on her jawline before meeting her lips with a sensual kiss. “I did too. I want to do it again.”

 “You got three nuts out of me. How needy can you be?” she teases.

 If only she knew.

 “No. Not tonight. I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but not tonight. Another time.”

 She looks at me in confusion. “One night stands aren’t your cup of tea?” She taps my shoulders to let her down so she can start fixing herself. We shared a final moan when I removed my cock from her pussy. The lost contact makes me want her more. 

 “Yeah, they are, " I answered. "But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with enjoying each other’s company. No?”

 “No, but”–she pulls down her dress—“you’re forgetting that I’m married.”

 I arched my brow, teasingly. “Did I forget or did you?”

 She glares at me. “Seems like I have a thing for jackasses with good dick.”

 There goes that spice again.

 “Look. That’s not what I meant and you know that.”

 “Ha. Oh, do I?” 

 I watched her finish adjusting herself in the mirror, grabbing her purse, and heading for the door. The moment her hand lands on the handle, I put my hand on top of hers to keep the knob from turning. By all means, she’s not a short woman. Maybe five-foot-seven at most. But even with heels, I tower her. 

 Wrapping my free arm around her waist, I push myself against her so she can feel my erection against her ass. My lips meet with her ear, and I know she’s affected by my actions because I heard the moment her breath hitched.

 “It’s just. . . you’re so damn beautiful. You can’t give me that good pussy and expect me to only want it once,” I whisper. “I haven’t even tasted you yet.”

 “ Suguru . . .” Her voice was soft, barely above a hushed tone.

 “Hm?”

 She turns around. Our eyes lock once more. Her plush lips ghost over mines, nearly kissing me, but says, “Go fuck yourself,” and walks out the door. 

 Yeah. I think I love her. 

 I follow behind her like a lost puppy. “Wait!” She stops in the hallway near the bathrooms. “You still didn’t give me your name.”

 Smirking over her shoulder, she left me there with a semi-hard cock and her name.

 “Y/N.”

  Y/N. . . Perfect.

 I hope she doesn’t think this will be the last time I see her.

 It’s not. 

  Far from it.

next chapter

[cyberapid]

Mom 2 two

ES Wheeljack x Cybertronian Reader

fem reader but I don't think I used she/her pronouns. reader is just referred to as mom 2

goofy part two. I plan for more if I don't lose it.

part 1 here

—•—•—•—•—

By the time Twitch had settled after asking as many questions as her processor could handle, only one set of optics were trained on her. “I think you tired him out, Bitlet,” you’d hummed, amused. Wheeljack's helm had found its way onto your shoulder plating sometime into her rant, slipping into a peaceful recharge- It wasn't comfortable for you with the disconnected wiring that he hadn't noticed but that was a problem for him to fret over in the next cycle.

“My name is Twitch, not Bitlet,” Twitch shifted in her spot to lay her helm on Wheeljack’s tibulen while she laid her pedes over your own, confusion evident on her facial plating and it only deepens at the sound of static spitting from your vocalizer. Quickly you reset and correct the error that pulses through the mechanisms of your helm and one last laugh leaves before you calm yourself.

“I’m aware. Bitlet is a nickname” she nods at the explanation while her optic coloring starts to distort– a telltale sign that the young bot is starting to tire. “You should recharge, I'll keep watch,” you offer with a soothing pat on her smaller helm.

She’s quick to protest even as her optics shut off, “You don't need to watch. We’re home- it's safe.”

You can’t remember falling into recharge, but the sound of unfamiliar voices causes you to jolt out and your programming seems to work faster than your processor as your damaged arm that was supporting Wheeljack flies up, servo retracting inward to allow your cannon to transform and power up a charge. You unsteadily support its weight with your undamaged arm and reboot your optics for a clearer picture of your surroundings; Twitch’s worried expression is the first thing you see, next is her arms going up to defensively push your cannon down and then your audials finally cycle properly.

Allowing you to pick up clear speech from the femme, “Wait, wait! It's just me and my family.” She motions to an unfamiliar bot and then humans that surround her; the air is thick with tension as they all stare, the adult humans stand in front of the adolescent ones.

“No threats here, Sweetspark,” Wheeljack's voice cuts in from the side- where he’s sat by your form. Most of his attention now pulled towards your injured arm, reaching to gently prod at damaged parts with a disapproving rumble of his engines.

Once your cannon is disengaged, which relieves an unnoticed amount of strain from your damaged wiring, the surrounding Malto’s all relax. The first to speak again is Twitch who excitedly gives your designation to her family and gives theirs to you in return.

The rapid questions from the young members of this family go unheard, as all your focus is pulled towards the glowering femme human— one that you recognize, and she seemingly recognizes you. This apprehensive reunion doesn’t stop with her as the sound pede steps pulls attention towards Bumblebee, who pauses and stares at the group in return before narrowing in on you. “Do I wanna know,” he questions. Then his optics settling finally on Wheeljack who looks up from your plating with a coy smile.

“Had a little run in- decided to spend the night…. Hope y’all don’t mind,” he leaves the silent issue unaddressed, opting to return back to working on your damaged arm. He’s a smart mech- just not a very perceptive one.

The femme human finally speaks, “Bee, Garage.” Leaving no room for debate as she turns on her pedes and makes her way into the barn, Bumblebee follows shortly after along with the other adult human. This leaves the two fleshy children and the two terrans sitting aside from both of you, with many unheard questions.

The human girl looks to speak but is cut off by the other terran, Thrash, who scoots himself closer, “If you’re Twitch’s mom 2 then you’re also my mom 2, right?”

The excitement that flares in his optics nearly shorts your processor and makes you want to agree to his statement, but still you confess, “oh, well— I'm afraid I don't know what a mom is….” The reaction is immediate as the terran gawk and shutter in disbelief while the humans attempt to calm them.

Wheeljack's quiet chuckling cuts through their disturbance and he’s quick to shush their further questioning, before addressing you. “A mother is a female identifying human who participates in the care for human children,” he explains while motioning to Mo, the smaller adolescent, and Robby, the larger adolescent, though his explanation receives undignified squawks from the Terran’s.

“And Terran children! Not just humans,” Twitch corrects, receiving agreements from the other Malto children. Wheeljack hums a half apology, and you feel a faint hum of humor pulse from his side of your bond as he clicks your shoulder armor back in place, seemingly satisfied with the state of your arm.

The sound of the barn doors opening again pulls attention towards the three exiting. Bumblebee is the first to speak, obviously studying the GHOST symbol displayed on your plating, “sorry I’m just a bit confused? How long have you been a part of GHOST?”

Nodding at his questioning you answer, “officially I've been apart for 10 orns. 5 of them being undercover.”

“Undercover… With the Decepticons?”

“That’s classified- Autobot,” you tease the mech with pretend disgust dripping from your vocalizer, though he doesn’t seem to catch on as the scout bristles and his optics shift into a glare. “Don’t get your tailpipe in a twist, Bumblebee. I’m joking”