#he’s got all the SOLDIER’s wrapped around his finger

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Dreams of Love - A No Love Lost Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist

Read on A03!

Author's Note: Made it a Hughie and Annie baby. Named it Joel because I’m hilarious and Annie would sooner eat glass than name her son Billy.

Chapter Title from She’s Got A Way by Billy Joel

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary/Warnings: Request from my love @deansbbyx ! You and Ben have to babysit. Takes place ten months post-series.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth-rotting fluff, Ben being old, Dad Ben, pre-established relationship, so much horniness (would we expect anything less?)

“Where the hell did Annie get a baby from.”

You sigh, giving Ben a flat look. “Her vagina, Benjamin. That’s where most of them pop out, you know.” 

Ben scowls, shooting you a glare that really only makes your whole body warm and soft. “Shut the fuck up, brat, you know what I meant-“

“I don’t think I did, Pretty Boy. I think you need to start explaining where you think babies come from-“

You’re cut off as Ben pulls you right to his chest, dropping his brow to yours with a smirk.

“You know damn well that I know where babies come from, Sunshine.” He drawls, and he’s really warm, and he smells so good, and his muscles are flexing around you, and his keeping his mouth just far enough away that you can’t kiss him but God you want to-

Ben-

You need something, darling? Need me to fuck you dumb right here, fill you up with my cock and remind you how fucking good we are at baby making? 

You swallow, unable to tear your gaze away from his darkened, lust-blown eyes. He’s starving for you, and you can feel it everywhere—you can’t even tell where your own thirst for him begins and his hunger for you ends—but you cannot have sex right now. There just isn’t the time, and it’s not like Ben’s going anywhere, but fuck, he’s so handsome and he’ll taste like strawberries and maple syrup from breakfast, and you can feel how hard he is, pressing against your thigh-

“MM’s going to be here soon,” you whisper, fidgeting with the collar of Ben’s shirt to give your fingers something to do that isn’t wrapping around Ben’s dick. “And Ryan needs to go to school. I can drive him if you-“

Ben rolls his eyes, pressing a quick kiss to your brow before rising back up to his full height. “You’re not fucking driving. I’ll take Ryan, you get the Campbell baby.”

“But-“

He drawls your name, raising his brows. “You really fucking think MM is going to leave a fucking baby with me.”

“Yeah, I do.” You raise your chin slightly, holding Ben’s vaguely amused gaze. “He doesn’t hate you anymore-“

“Doesn’t matter if he still wanted to cut my fucking dick off or not, you’re the only one he’s leaving it with.”

 “It had a name, Ben.” You say, wrapping your arms around his torso and leaning your chin on his chest. “And I’m sure MM would leave Joel with you if I ask him to.”

“But you’re not going to ask,” Ben says your name with a shrug, half picking you off the floor and cradling your head with one hand. “I’m bringing Ryan to school, you’re taking the baby. That’s it.”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “What if I promise you a blowjob to trade?”

He snorts, the radiance in his body bursting along your ribs. I’d get that blowjob anyway. 

What if I promise breeding kink sex?

His eyes narrow. You think you’re real fucking smart.

I do. You smile at him, playing with the hair on his beard as you sway slightly in his arms. You say I am all the time. You call me clever, and beautiful, and perfect. And if you like me now, imagine how amazing I’d be when you fucked me good enough for to put a baby-

You win. Ben’s hand tightens on your waist, his eyes flash, his hunger almost explodes through his body, and it’s all the warning you get before his mouth is crashing down to yours. Your silent words are cut off with a deep growl from Ben’s chest as he walks you backwards to the kitchen counter, his hand tugging at your hair to deepen the kiss. Your lips part with a moan that Ben swallows, and you’re scratching at his back as he shoves a knee between your legs, and fuck, he’s so good-

Such a needy fucking brat. He mutters in your head, and you can only grind against him. You are fucking perfect, you’re a goddamn miracle, but that smart fucking mouth, Ben hums against your lips, starting to kiss a wet, sloppy line down your neck. It’s a fucking marvel, Sunshine. Going to fucking kill me, how goddamn beautiful you are, all fucking dumb and pretty when I touch you-

Fuck- You whine when he starts to suck on that one spot near your throat, and he chuckles against your skin. God, Ben-

Words, darling, use that smart mouth to beg-

Please, Benjamin, you ass-

You squeak as his hand pins you against his knee, and he draws back, scanning over your open, desperate expression with a wide smirk. 

“Hi, Sunshine.” He drawls, tipping your chin back with a careful hand, and you might be drooling. 

He’s so fucking handsome. It’s really not fair. This life looks painfully good on him, where all his love is still hot and bloody and focused in your body, but the resolve to hold you is just to hold you. There are no threats that you’d need protection from, but Ben’s still shielding you just a little all the time because that’s what he does. He loves and cares about you so violently you’d be worried he offers you too much, but all he’s ever asked for in return is this. Is you, already a little dazed from his hand dragging circles on the skin of your hips, your mouth hanging open as you take in his messy hair and relaxed expression. Everything in him glows when he presses his thumb on your lower lip and you moan, and when he leaves a small, almost chaste kiss on the space between your eyes the fire under your skin starts to push up, and you’re smoking, and he’s just grinning at you like a dick-

“You’re so fucking perfect, beautiful.” He mutters, and you don’t know why he’s not just fucking you. “When I get you alone again, you’re going to cum on my hands, then my face, then my cock when I fill you up. You’re going to feel me for fucking days, darling, and everyone will know that I always fuck you properly when you sit down at a meeting and fucking whine like a goddamn brat.”

You have a small, breathless speech in your head that’s mostly a plea of you are alone, right now, and it’s not possible for Ben to make you feel it for days, but God, you’d like to see him try, but you don’t get the chance to say it. You stare at Ben’s smug grin for a long second, taking steady breaths to try and regain just a little bit of control over your brain—which right now seems to only remember how to say Benjamin, please—and Ryan walks into the kitchen with his backpack and nervous, quick words.

“Ben, I lost my notebook-“ Ryan’s eyes widen at the scene before him—Ben still holding you on his knee, your whole body slack under his touch and very obvious, slightly glowing smoke rising from your skin—and he freezes in the doorway. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to- I’ll just go wait in the car-“

“Stay here, kid.” Ben helps you down, pressing one last, gentle kiss to your brow before turning his attention to Ryan. “Car’s not started yet, and your notebook’s under the couch.”

Ryan frowns. “How did it-“

“Shoved it there last night.” Ben grunts. His voice is really deep. His arm is still around you. He smells like pine and coffee and that earthy, salty thing that’s just Ben-

“Oh.” Ryan nods slowly. “Was it- I’m-“

“Don’t fucking apologize. It wasn’t in the way, I just had to do all the damn baby proofing-“

That snaps you out of it.

“You were baby proofing?”

Ben frowns down at you, something slightly sore wrapping over his skin. “Of course I was fucking baby proofing, I’m not going to let the damn thing just fuck around the house and die-“

You let just a little bit of your own, raw and infinite love leak into Ben’s body, rising up to press a kiss right over his beard and humming against his skin. Thank you, Benjamin. That was sweet.

I am not fucking sweet-

Of course not, Pretty Boy. What was I thinking. Your smile is wide and unrestrained as you lean back, holding Ben’s face between your hands. I love you.

I love you too, Sunshine. He rolls his eyes, dragging one of your hands to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. “I’ll get your notebook, Ryan. Go put on your shoes.”

“Okay.” Ryan bounces on his feet, looking between you and Ben with an open, anxious expression. “Is- Are Hughie and Annie bringing Joey here?”

“They’re on their honeymoon,” you explain, Ben scowls, and you shoot him a flat look. “Which someone is being a grumpy asshole about.”

“It’s fucking bullshit.” Ben grumbles, guiding you out of the kitchen. “We’ve been married for ten goddamn month and haven’t gone on our honeymoon. Why the hell do those pussies get to go first.”

“They’re not going first, Ben, they just actually planned their wedding instead of doing it spontaneously in a field-“

Ben rolls his eyes. “If we do that proper wedding shit, will you finally take some time off so I can fuck you on a beach?”

You flush, whacking Ben’s chest as Ryan looks around absent-mindedly, pretending not to hear. Benjamin-

The kid is used to it, Sunshine-

He shouldn’t be- 

He’s fine. I think he’s got bigger fucking problems than me loving you like you deserve-

But-

“Ryan.” Ben grunts, tucking you a little further into his side and ignoring your death glare. He’s lucky you can’t burn his face off anymore. “You got an issue with me telling her I’m going to fuck her?”

“I, um- no?” Ryan shrugs, frowning at the air. “I guess I tune it out now, just because you do it kind of a lot and I- I dunno, I just expect it. Sorry-“

“Don’t say sorry, kid. You did good.” Ben shoots you a smug look, bright, hot pride inflating in his chest. You’re going to strangle him, then make out with his stupid, handsome, cocky face. “Shoes.”

Ryan nods and wanders to the door, and Ben looks so fucking proud of himself.

Benjamin William- 

You barely get out your shared last name before Ben’s squeezing your hips, pulling you up into a long, open-mouth kiss that makes you moan loud and soft, your body molding right into his. Never should’ve told you my middle name, brat. 

Could be worse. You mumble, smiling against his lips. I could tell Butcher. 

He pulls back with narrowed eyes. You won’t.

Test me, Benjamin-

You tell Butcher, I’ll… Ben trails off between your heads, and you can feel a wired spike in his heart when he realizes he doesn’t have any believable threats anymore. 

You’ll what? You raise your brows, giving him an overly sweet pout. Fuck me dumb? Make me beg? Throw me around until I’m a whiny, horny mess for your cock-

He slams back into you, hauling your body into his arms without even a stuttered breath and carrying you to the couch. 

Christ on a fucking cross, Ben mutters your name between your heads, lowering himself to his knees before you as he kisses you back into the cushions. You’re so fucking perfect.

His tone is entirely reverent, so sincere it might kill you, and the pure devotion and fervor of his love in your body is enough to drive you mad.

Ben- His hand trails up your thigh, and you’d be embarrassed by your loud moan if it didn’t make Ben groan into your mouth, everything in him sparking and flaring. Fuck-

Later, Sunshine. He tips your chin back slightly, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your mouth right before he pulls away. “Stay here until I get home.”

You hum, taking his hand from your cheek and twisting his wedding ring around his finger with a small smile. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

He chuckles, leaning into one last, soft kiss before rising to his feet. “Wouldn’t fucking dream of it, darling. Tell me when MM drops off the kid.”

Tell you on the what, Benjamin?

I’m not fucking saying it.

Please?

You give him your sweetest smile, squeezing your hand on his knee and leaning into his touch, and he groans.

Smart fucking brat. He mutters, moving his hand back to tangle in your hair and tugging slightly, just enough to make your head tip back. Tell me on the Ben’o’phone, and I’ll fuck your mouth and cunt real good when I get home.

Deal. Thank you.

Don’t. He grumbles between your heads, but even as his hand leaves yours you can feel the power of his love, the rough affection that’s settled deeply and comfortably into his chest. “You think we’ve got all the shit-“

“MM’s going to bring most of it. And,” you nod to the floor, and Ben turns with a frown. “I bought a play pen. We can keep it after. For later. When I get that promised fucking.”

You see Ben’s hands curl into fists, he stands a little taller, and fuck, you’re right at eye level with his bulge but Ryan really does need to go to school-

“I can’t believe Annie and Hughie got a fucking baby before we did.” He mutters, glaring at the play pen. “It’s a goddamn travesty-“

“Travesty.” You hum, looking up at him with a wide, teasing smile. “Big word, Pretty Boy-“

“Shut up.” 

Ben turns back to you, taking your face between big, warm hands and scanning over your features with a narrowed gaze. You can feel something wound tightly in his chest—slightly molding and almost painful—so you grab his wrists to keep him against you, and give him your widest, realest smile. The smile that’s for Ben, and Ben only.

It’s always really just Ben.

You know I fucking adore you. He says between your heads, his voice low and rough. Love you more than the goddamn universe, Sunshine, you’re my whole goddamn life. You know that.

I think you’ve mentioned it. You hum, leaning into his touch. And I love you too, you massive cunt, so say what the fuck you mean.

Ben lets out a dry snort as you drop your voice into a mocking impression of him on those last words, shaking his head slightly. Christ, darling. You’re fucking-

Perfect, I’m aware. Please, Ben-

You don’t need to ever do anything you fucking hate with me. He grunts, his body suddenly made only of fervorish, protective stone. I got you and Ryan, and that can be my world for the rest of my goddamn life, and I’d be good. If that caped fucking pussy knocked the idea of a baby out of your head forever, I’m not going to-

Ben. You cut him off with soft but firm words, holding his gaze. We don’t lie to each other.

Of course we fucking don’t-

So when I say that one day soon, I want to do this, you nod to the play pen. With you, believe me. Please.

His jaw twitches, and the wrathful care in his body doesn’t vanish, but it never does. It only moves back peacefully into your bones as Ben slowly nods. You’re sure.

Positive. Go bring Ryan to school before I do.

Ben rolls his eyes, leans down to kiss the top of your head, and half-stomps out the door.

He’ll be back soon. And—though he’ll never get you to say it aloud—you’ll wait right here until he does. Where everything still smells like pine, and you’re molded into the couch right where Ben put you, and you can smile at the play pen like a dumbass until the doorbell rings. 

You know it MM before you open it, because Ben just walks in wherever he wants—including into offices he definitely should not be walking into and meetings you’re supposed to be focusing on—and everyone in the neighborhood seems to know that’s Soldier Boy and the Anomaly’s house, so after the Homeowners Association incident, nobody really bothers you that much. 

It would be lonely if you didn’t already have a Ben, a Ryan, a Butcher—friend was too generous for the asshole, but he was unfortunately an indisputable part of your life—and friends.

Because when you open the door, it is MM on the other side, and he looks tire and pissed but still happy to see you. You can feel it—during your brief, tight hug—that there’s a heavy exhaustion under his skin and over his muscles, but there’s nothing but relieved affection for you to be here. 

“This kid,” MM mutters as you pull apart. “Has fucking lungs.”

You smile, following him out to the still-running car. “I know, I’ve heard them. Annie told me to buy Ryan earplugs.”

“Smart.” MM leans into the car door, pulling out the car seat and probably saying more things, but you don’t really hear them because that’s a baby. A baby baby. A barely popped, wispy haired baby that looks so much like a shrunken down version of Hughie it’s a little disturbing.

And you’ve met him before. You were there when Annie had her pre-mature birth, doing what Ben had called more work than the damn nurses and stopping Annie’s bleeding with a press of your hand to her legs a brief rush of pain between your thighs. 

MM had told you Ben had doubled over with a roar in the lobby, and you’d seen the evidence of it when you’d rejoined him and there was a large hole in the wall. But Annie had been okay, Hughie had given you a tight hug that could’ve left a bruise if that was something your body could do, and the baby had been healthy. 

You hadn’t wanted to hold him, nerves building in your throat about what feeling the emotions of a baby could even do. Annie had told you that it would be fine, and half-shoved Joey into your arms.

And now—just like then—you can feel nothing but soft, humming peace from tiny Joel Campbell in your arms. There’s no bloodied pain or freezing fear, nothing rotten in his chest or throat or head. He’s just a little fuzzy because you’re not Annie, but it’s a brief distress that fades when you start to hum and the whole world grows perfectly warm.

They’re here. Your words are soft down your connection to Ben, and he flares slightly in your chest.

Good. Ryan’s off, I’ll be back soon. Don’t fucking move.

You smile to yourself, and MM must realize that you’ve moved yourself into a trance, because he doesn’t try to talk to you until you’re settled back inside with Joey carefully in your arms, and all of Annie’s baby supplies are piled near the door.

“You think your old motherfucker is ready for this?”

You snort. Ben’s so ready you’re probably going to spend the next month after this trying to pry him off of you. “He is. He baby-proofed the house.”

MM grunts, scanning around the living room. “I’m guessing the asshole wants one?”

You might be smiling like an idiot. “You have no idea.”

“I think I can live with that.” MM mutters, giving you an odd look. “And- If I’m out of line tell me to shut it and I will, but can you even do that?”

You sigh, trailing one finger softly over Joey’s cheek. There’s something in that silent, happy hum you feel from him that really seems like Annie.

You wonder if your baby would look like Ben and feel like you, or look like you and feel like Ben. 

“I can if I want.” You say, shaking your head at MM’s look of confusion. “Don’t ask.”

He raises his hands in agreement, nodding to Joey in your arms. “Do you? Want one?”

“I do.” You whisper. “I always did, before, and then Home-“ You swallow. You still don’t like saying his name. He doesn’t deserve for his name to be said, not where Joey can hear it. “Then he, he did everything, and it didn’t seem like a thing I could ever do. But now...”

You trail off, and MM nods.

“What changed?”

You look up with a soft smile. “Do you really want me to say it?”

He sighs, running a hand over his face. “That old asshole must have a fucking genie who owes him one or something.”

You only hum, because it’s not really useful to explain that Ben doesn’t need a genie. He’s just Ben, and he’s everything, and you love him. “Maybe. I think he’s going to be amazing at this.”

“Of course you do.” MM mutters. “Where the hell is he?”

“Dropping Ryan at school.” You say, lowering your voice to whisper to Joey. “He’s bringing us back chocolate.”

“How the hell do you know-“

“He always brings me back something. And he’s that way,” you wave a vague hand over your shoulder, where you can sense Ben moving around miles away. “So he’s getting chocolate.”

When you look up, MM’s gaping slightly. “He always brings you something?”

“Of course he does. He thinks it’s an apology for leaving me.”

“Leaving- Motherfucker.” MM sighs, shaking his head. “It’s a good thing you two idiots can’t die without each other. You’re already so goddamn annoying.”

You can’t disagree with that. Not when—a few hours after MM leaves—Ben pushes through the door with a box of those fancy fucking chocolates you love, Sunshine, and lowers to his knees before you, staring at Joey in your arms.

“Hughie makes a tiny fucking baby.”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Don’t bully the infant, Ben-“

“I’m not bullying him, I’m bullying his father. Hughie’s a fucking adult, he’ll live.” Ben rises up to kiss your brow. “You look real damn good with a baby in your arms, darling.”

You smile at him, tilting your head back to meet his gaze. Keep it in your pants, old man.

For the damn baby I will, but I promised you a proper fucking, Ben drawls your name between your heads, shooting you a wink. Going to have you begging for my cum in your mouth, on your tits, in that pretty fucking pussy-

Benjamin. You give him a stern look, even as the deep sound of his voice in your mind, the sight of him grinning at you, and the hunger in his body settle deep in your stomach. Not when I’m actively holding the child.

He rolls his eyes, but drops at your side on the couch and kisses your temple. Fine.

Thank you. You lean your head on Ben’s shoulder, letting him tuck you against his side, his hand tracing slow patterns on your arm as you start to hum, soothing Joey fully to sleep.

And you could’ve stayed like this for a lifetime. Ben’s content—you can feel it, feel how deeply and easily settled he is at your side—this is so simply peaceful, and you have no desire to disturb the static, colorful feeling you get from Joey, so you could’ve died here.

But Joey shits his pants, because that’s what babies do.

And You really don’t want to move. 

MM left some things by the door, can you please-

You don’t need to finish the sentence before Ben’s moving, marching to the hall to grab the diapers and pushing the coffee table to your knees when he returns. You change Joey there—it’s a flat surface, you cleaned it that morning, and Ben had laid out a towel—before settling back onto the couch, and that’s most of the day. Joey’s hungry, Ben grabs the bottle and you feed him. Joey’s never cold—you and Ben are walking furnaces—but he seems a little uncomfortable, so Ben grabs a blanket Annie left and you swaddle. Joey shits himself again, and Ben marches upstairs to run a sink bath.

He hangs over your shoulder every second. And there are no grumbled suggestions or thoughts about Joey, only normal conversations about work and TV and Ryan and dinner. Nothing feels different, and the solid, pious care and love you feel from Ben is no stronger than normal. It’s aimed right at your heart and golden and warm in your body, but that’s just Ben. That’s how he loves you. 

The only change is something softer—lining over his head and lungs—that glows when you catch him glancing at Joey in your arms. When you settle back on the couch with a sleepy, clean baby, and Ben pulls you half into his lap, resting his chin on the top of your head. You waste the afternoon like this. Watching TV with Ben everywhere around you, Joey asleep in your arms and nothing really that worrying in the world.

When your phone rings, you almost don’t want to answer it. But it’s Butcher, and if you ignore him he’ll come to your house, so you sigh and pick up the call.

“Butcher,” you whisper, and Ben’s arms tighten around your body. “Please tell me this is important.”

“You wound me.” Butcher’s voice is filled with mock offense through the speaker as he says your name. “I ain’t ever bothered you for no reason-“

“One time you called me to say Ben lost his pen.”

“And he was tearin’ up the bloody office, so I needed you to work your fuckin’ sex magic on the Gov before he hurt ‘imself. Always got a reason, love, you should well fuckin’ know that.”

I can’t hurt myself. Ben grumbles in your ear, obviously eavesdropping. Only person who can hurt me is you-

Romantic, my love. Shut up. “Butcher, if this is a work thing you have to call MM, Ben and I both have the day off-“

“‘Fraid MM ain’t able to help with this one, love. I got Secretary Campbell ‘ere, and he ain’t leavin’ until he speaks to Mr. and Mrs. American Dream.”

“Stop calling us that, it doesn’t even make sense.” You sigh, glancing at Joey in your arms. “What does he want?”

Apparently, Singer’s Defense Secretary is trying to get you and Ben to donate some DNA again. And you’d send Ben to deal with him, but you’re pretty sure that would end with a dead Campbell and another year half on the lam for you. So you sigh, tell Butcher you’ll be there soon, and hang up.

Ben mutters your name, keeping you steady in his lap. “I can fucking handle this-“

“No, Ben, it’s okay.” You lean back on his shoulder, giving him a soft smile. “You watch Joey, and I’ll pick up Ryan on my way back.”

“You shouldn’t fucking drive-“

“I’ll go slow. And be careful-“

Ben scoffs. “You’re never fucking careful-“

“Yes, I am. I will be. Just take Joey-“

“No, I’ll fucking deal with Singer’s lapdog, and you’ll keep the baby-“

“Benjamin.” You snap, and he shuts his mouth with a glower. There’s something sore over his whole body, but it’s rooted in his hands. Itching and heavy and tense, tight around his throat-

You frown, tilting your head at him, and softening your voice between your heads.

Are you okay?

I-

And remember I can feel you, Ben. You raise your brows, shifting in his lap to fully face him. Are you worried about the baby?

I’m not fucking worried, he grunts your name, hands tightening on your body. I don’t want to you leave, Sunshine, is that a goddamn crime-

No. You kiss him, quick and sweet, and rise from his hold. But I do have to go. I’ll put Joey in the travel crib, and you can Ben’o’phone me if you need help.

Or you could fucking stay-

You’ll be fine, my love. I’ll be back soon.

——————

Ben wasn’t watching TV. It was on, in the background, but he couldn’t goddamn focus on it. 

There was a fucking baby in the room. It wasn’t bigger than his forearm, it kept making small baby sounds, and if Ben looked away from the crib for one goddamn second he was pretty fucking certain something would go wrong. The ceiling would fall and Ben wouldn’t be quick enough to throw his body over it. He would be quick enough, but he wouldn’t be careful and he’d crush the baby. The baby would shit, and he’d have to change the diaper. It would start throwing lightning bolts like its mother, and Ben would have to figure out what the fuck to do. It would be hungry, and Ben didn’t have tits. 

The ceiling would not fall. This whole house had been supe-proofed, because all of them still had nightmares that set off their powers, when Ryan and Ben it could—according to Her—cause permanent structural damage, and Ben needed to be able to fuck Her however he pleased without worrying about everything breaking around them.

Ben would not crush the baby. He wasn’t some weak fucking pussy who couldn’t control his strength after damn near 80 years.

If the baby took another shit, Ben could change a diaper. He wouldn’t fucking like it, but it was just shit and piss. He’d been covered in guts and blood and brains, shit and piss was nothing. Even if that thing took some of the biggest shits Ben had seen in his very long life.

According to Her and Frenchie, mainstreamed V wasn’t hereditary. It didn’t fundamentally change the users DNA or some shit, so Annie and Hughie’s baby would always just be a normal person. Ben wasn’t really sure, because somewhere in the conversation someone had said what if they had a baby and pointed to Her and Ben, and he’d gotten distracted. 

If it got hungry, She’d shown Ben how formula worked, and he’d figure it out. He’d do whatever the hell he needed to in order to prove to Her that they could have a baby. If they had a baby, Ben would fucking kill it.

Not the baby. He’d kill taking care of a baby. He’d feed and change and tend to it—just like he did with Her and Ryan—and it would be fucking disgusting and boring as shit, but he’d goddamn do it if he could have a baby. 

And he didn’t know exactly what the hell had changed in forty years that men were expected to change diapers, but he’d change a million diapers for Her. He’d throw himself into the Sun and bury himself alive for Her. He’d watch something called How to Train You Dragon for Her. He’d fucking cook for Her—she sure as hell couldn’t do it herself, and Ben would be damned if he let his wife starve—and he’d read a fucking book just to make Her smile. 

Changing a diaper—if that made Her happy as well—was fucking nothing.

So when Joey started wailing—about twenty minutes after She’d left—Ben was fucking ready. He’d been studying all the shit She’d been doing, and this kid wasn’t going to know what the fuck hit him. Annie and Hughie would get him back in better condition, and Ben would be a goddamn hero.

But the baby didn’t want food. And its diaper was clean. 

The only thing that seemed to make it stop was when Ben held it. Cradled it in his arms and rocked it back and forth, sitting back on the couch because every time he tried to put the little fucker down, it would start screaming again. 

Ben didn’t remember the last time he’d been this close to a real baby. He’d seen this one in the hospital after Annie popped it, and a few times after, but he’d never really held it. Annie had offered once, and he’d taken it, but it hadn’t been like this. Where Joey was curled into Ben’s chest and Annie wasn’t bouncing on her feet to take it back. 

This was peaceful. Quiet. The TV humming in the background and Ben just fucking holding a baby. A baby that was happy to be in his arms, and didn’t fit perfectly because it wasn’t Ben’s baby, but was still a damn baby.

Happy. With him holding it.

Something became clear in his head. It had never been fogged or covered, but it was sharp now. Right in reach and touchable, more than just a fantasy or daydream. 

Ben fucking wanted this. And he could really fucking have it. He’d seen Her look at Joey, and She’d sworn she’d want this as well. She’d said She’d want it with Ben.

And he could see it. Ben could almost physically fucking see a baby that had Her eyes and hair and whole perfect face, and would grab Ben’s nose and fucking break it. Any kid She and Ben had would be a supe—as far as Ben understood it—and they would be the strongest one yet. Ryan would help them learn to control the strength, and he’d never fucking worry about being loved less, because as far as the baby would know, Ryan would be their damn brother.

It would be smart like Her and Ryan. The kid would be talking in three months—or something, Ben didn’t know when babies usually started talking—and do all the fucking school shit, then chose to do good things because they would be Her kid, and everything She did and touched became fucking good.

And She’d be the best goddamn mother. She already was, with Ryan, and this would just be more. More annoying parents for Her to threaten, another person for Her to teach shit to, and another piece of evidence for Her to have that Ben couldn’t love Her more if he tried. Another way for Ben to show Her that She, Ryan, and now the baby were the only things in the whole damn universe that mattered.

He could see it. Her padding around the house in Ben’s shirt, holding their baby in one arm and a phone in the other. Hissing incredibly graphic threats at a congressman while smiling at the baby, sometimes dropping Her voice to coo to the kid when She was between calls.

“You know.” She said, swaying slightly in place as she mumbled to the child. Their child. That was Ben’s fucking child. “If that asshole doesn’t listen to Mommy, she’s going to let Daddy yell at them. And Daddy can be scary.”

Ben frowned, but he couldn’t quite move or speak, She didn’t see him there, and when She kept talking any protests of him being ‘scary’ vanished into the air.

“I know that crazy to you, because Daddy isn’t scary.” She set Her phone down on the counter, devoting Her entire attention to the infant in her arms. “He’s just big and grumpy. Like an ancient teddy bear.”

The kid made a soft, babbling sound, and Ben really wanted to hear it again. Especially as a tiny fist shot up, wrapped around Her finger, and she smiled as it babbled again.

“You’re right, he can be a bit of an asshole. Isn’t that right, my love?” 

Ben could suddenly move, and he was walking forwards. Moving to Her side and pressing a kiss to Her brow. “Smart fucking mouth, brat.”

“You love it.” She hummed, leaning into him as She kept speaking to the baby. “He loves it.”

Ben did love it. He loved how fucking happy She was, how easy this felt, and how—when Ryan called from upstairs for homework help—She passed the baby into Ben’s arms without a thought and walked away. 

And that was their fucking kid. And it had sharp eyes that were scanning over Ben’s face a little hazily, realizing that Ben wasn’t Her, and then almost squealing as it realized that he was Ben.

It reached up for him, and fucking Christ, the thing was happy to see him. It was making cute fucking sounds and squeezing his finger, and not a single fucking pussy would ever be allowed to hurt it. Ben would do whatever the hell it took to keep the kid this peaceful, to make it always this happy to see him, to make it so that She and Ryan would have the family they deserved, and Ben could just fucking love them for the rest of goddamn time-

“Ben. Wake up.” A gentle, perfect hand trailed over his face, and he’d fallen asleep. 

He blinked his eyes open to find Her standing between his knees above him, and soft smile playing on Her lips.

“Good dream?”

Ben caught Her hand in his own, pressing a kiss to Her knuckles as he blinked away a little more sleep. “You don’t have a fucking clue.”

She hummed, glancing at Joey, still in his arms. “I think he likes you.”

“He likes that I’m warm-“

“The blanket was warm.” She shrugs. “He likes you.”

Ben grunted. He wouldn’t win this argument, and he knew better than to try. “Where’s Ryan?”

“In his room.” She said, dropping at Ben’s side and smiling at Joey. “We’ve been home for a few hours.”

“A few- You’ve been home hours-“

“Voice down, Benjamin.” She mumbled, leaning Her head against his arm. “And you both looked peaceful. I liked it.”

Ben smirked. Were you watching me sleep, Sunshine-

Yes, I was. And you watch me sleep all the fucking time, Pretty Boy, so shut it.

He chuckled, kissing the side of Her head, and they stayed there until Ryan shuffled down the stairs, stopping behind the couch and staring at Joey in Ben’s arms.

“He’s really small.” Ryan whispered, and Ben coughed to cover his laugh.

“He’s a baby, Ry.” She said, kicking Ben’s shin as She smiled up at Ryan. “We were all that small once.”

“I was never this small.” Ben muttered. “I was a big fucking baby, and you probably were as well, kid.”

Ryan’s eyes widened, and She scoffed.

“How big were you, Benjamin.” She narrowed Her eyes. And don’t say you’re still big now.

Don’t need to say it, Sunshine, you know better than damn anyone that I’m big. Ben winked at Her, smirking at her pretty flush as he continued.  “I don’t fucking remember exactly, brat, it was a hundred goddamn years ago-“

She snorted. “So you might have been this tiny-“

“I fucking wasn’t-“

“You could’ve been.” She stuck Her tongue out at him, light dancing in Her eyes. “We’ll never know.”

Ben rolled his eyes, brat, and pulled Her into a long, slow kiss with his free hand, going until She was sighing into his mouth and slumping over his body-

She pushed off Ben’s chest, and something was radiant and zealous in his chest when She leaned back to look at Ryan, and there was an almost drunken smile on Her face.

“Do you need help with more homework-“

“No,” Ryan shook his head, glancing back to Joey. “I- I’m just hungry, but if you’re busy-“

Ben’s brow furrowed. “We look fucking busy, kid?”

“Uh, no?”

“Then it’s dinner.” Ben grunted Her name. “You want ravioli.”

She gave him a wide, toothy smile, Her voice oddly soft. “Yes, please.”

“Ryan-“

“That sounds good.” Ryan nodded slowly, taking a nervous step back. “I- I’ll go wait in my room- And-“

Ben frowned. “You finished your homework?”

Ryan nodded again, and Ben moved to his feet with Joey still carefully in his arms. 

“Stay in here, kid. It’ll be easier to get you.”

“No- I- It’s okay-“

“Ryan?” She twisted fully in Her seat, a gentle frown on Her face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, I just- I don’t-“ Ryan swallowed, bowing his head slightly. “Joey looks really fragile. I don’t- What if I break him?”

She tensed at Ben’s side, and Ben could fucking feel Her aching distress. Feel the presence of Her around his head tightening and spinning, see the sadness all over Her pretty face—almost perfectly matching Ryan’s—and Ben needed to fucking fix this.

“Hold the baby.” 

Ben walked around the couch to put Joey into Ryan’s arms, and the kid just fucking gaped at him.

“But- But I could-“

“You won’t.” Ben snapped, and Ryan shook his head.

“He’s so small, Ben.” He whispered. “And I- I could hurt him.”

“When was the last time you broke something.”

Ryan blinked at him. “What?”

“The last thing you broke on accident, kid.” Ben raised his brows. “When did you break it.”

“I-“ Ryan glanced at Her, but she was just leaning over the back of the couch, tapping Her fingers on the pillows as she watched. “I don’t remember-“

“November.” Ben grunted. “You freaked out during a team dinner and snapped Butcher’s table in half. You’ve had a fuck ton of freak-outs since then, holding shit a lot more delicate than a table, and not a single damn thing has broken. Hold the baby.”

Ryan still didn’t move, only staring between Ben and Joey, and Ben let out a long breath.

“Ryan, do you really fucking think I’d hand you a damn baby if I thought you’d hurt it.”

“N- No-“

“You trust me, kid?”

Ryan’s eyes widened. “Of course I do-“

“Take the fucking baby.”

Ryan finally got it, and took Joey from Ben’s arms with slow, careful hands.

Nothing exploded. The sky didn’t fall. 

And Ryan smiled, his voice filled with awe. “He looks like Hughie.”

Ben smirked. “He really fucking does. Poor kid.”

She frowned from the couch. “Benjamin-“

“Sunshine.” Ben mocked Her tone as he bent down, picking Her up with a grin and laughing when she squeaked. “You’re hungry, beautiful.”

She wrinkled Her nose at him, whacking his chest. “Don’t fucking do that, you asshole-“

I didn’t do a fucking thing. Ben drawled Her name between their heads, his eyes never leaving Her’s as he moved them out of the room. “We’ll be in the kitchen if you need us, kid.”

“Okay!” Ryan called after them. “I’ll stay with Joey!”

All the mock anger in Her eyes dissolved in a second, Ben leaned down to kiss Her—long and sloppy and heavy—as he set Her on the counter, and when he pulled away, Her smile was fucking perfect.

She was hanging off of Ben’s arm the entire time he made dinner, smiling at Ben like he’d handed Her the fucking moon when it was only damn pasta.

What-

I love you, Benjamin. She whispered between their minds. So much.

Ben kissed Her brow, tracing his thumb over Her cheekbone. Love you too, Sunshine.

You’re really good at this. With Ryan and Joey.

He shrugged. I’ll be even fucking better with Ryan and our kid.

And that was the damn truth. Because Ben could finish dinner and help Her serve, and he could eat around the table with Her and Ryan, but when the baby cried it wasn’t his baby. And there wasn’t a damn thing wrong with Joey—he was adorable, seemed alright for a baby, and Ben would never fucking tell Her, but while She’d been gone Joey had been chewing toothlessly on Ben’s finger and it had been the cutest thing he’d seen in his fucking life—but Ben wanted the kid to be theirs. 

He wanted to set up the TV while She and Ryan cleared the plates, let Ryan chose what they were watching for family movie, and have Her sitting on Ben’s lap with their kid in Her arms. Ben wanted to lean over Her shoulder and see sharp eyes blinking up at him, to hear the baby make a bubbly little noise and for it to sound like Her voice.

He wanted Ryan to help put his sibling to bed before shuffling off to his own room, and he wanted to be standing here with Her over the crib—wrapping his arms around Her stomach and swaying back and forth in the dark—as they looked at their baby.

Joey looked so fucking peaceful in there, and Ben could see it again. A future where She’d be just like this, and the baby was really fucking theirs. It’s in a sturdier, bomb-proof crib built by Frenchie, and reaching for Her—because who fucking wouldn’t—and when it made a noise, Ben’s whole fucking world would get a little bigger.

I want one. Ben muttered between their heads, pressing a kiss to the side of Her head, and She hummed.

I know, my love. She smiled up at him, and Ben was going to fucking explode. In the dim light—with sleepy eyes and raw fucking love written all over Her perfect features—She’s was always the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. I’m sure I can find one for you.

End Note: Finally gave Ben a middle name. I don’t care what kripke and any future spinoffs say. That’s his middle name now, because it’s the funniest possible option.

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[thatoneautisticshark]

ONG CAN YOU WRITE MORE ABOUT THE SOAP BEING VOCAL HEADCANNON? PLSSS IM BEGGING

I got an ask? I GOT AN ASK! Let's fricken go. Hell to the yes you can have vocal soap. You didn't specify top or bottom so I went with bottom. :3

Soap groaned and sat up, stretching from where he had been doodling, and flopped against Ghost's shoulder. He nuzzled into that big, thick neck.

Ghost blinked at him, looking up from the book he was reading. “Johnny? Did you need something?” He queried, threading a hand into Soaps mohawk.

The scot shook his head, wrapping his arms fully around Ghost. “Nah… just in a touchy mood an’ wanna hold ye love” He murmered into the crook of his boyfriends neck.

Ghost gave another hum, wrapping an arm right around him, before returning to reading his book, letting soap rest against him.

Soap shifted leaning more heavily against the Brit. Jesus, he could fall asleep here. Granted Ghost's shoulder wasn't actually that comfortable, thick and boney at once. But hell soldiers could sleep anywhere uncomfortable.And he felt safe, that was the big thing.

He knew he was okay with Ghost, he was safe and Ghost was here. Everything was okay.He mentally face palmed. Why was he getting so fucking sappy? That was not the goal here. The goal was to get dicked down. If Ghost was amenable to sex today. Otherwise have a wank in the shower.

He began gently kissing Ghosts neck. Kissing up and down his jaw, slightly tense incase Ghost was not into it at all today and shoved him off.

Ghost just gave a hum and no negative reaction, so Soap took it for the encouragement it was, slowly beginning to also suck and nip. He earned a delightful little shivers for his efforts.

He carefully shifted around to the front of his boyfriend, plonking himself on the tallers lap. He was careful to continue necking the whole way, but now pulled back, ever so slightly.“ ‘M assuming ye okay with sex right now? Ye seeming pretty inta it”

Simon nodded, hands settling naturally on the Scots hips, fingers absently rubbing it. Soap grinned “Thank god, I'm horny as fuck. Ye cool with topping today? Really in tha mood to get fucked, but we can work something else out of you want.”

Simon shook his head. “Uhm.. no.. yeah I'm okay with that” He murmured in his uncharacteristically quiet tone that always happened with discussion of sex.

Soap grinned against the neck he was biting again “How ‘bout the mask? Can it come off…Orrrr”

Simon stilled slightly “Uhm… up to the nose”

Soap jumped on this new development, tugging the mask up to the bridge of Simons nose and kissing him, Letting his hands roam those huge fucking shoulders.

He sat up on Simons lap, scrambling to undo his belt, and leaned back a bit too far tumbling to the floor. There was a pause of about 5 seconds before soap burst into laughter. “Jesus Simon. I don' know if ye can tell, but ay am just a little bit horny ye know?”

Simon huffed a laugh pulling soap back onto the bed, pulling his pants down with his, before pulling his own off, earning a scoff from the scot.

“Fookin' show off” he spat playfully, making quick work of both their shirts. “Jesus, I will never get tired of this. Ye so fucking pretty Bonnie.” He murmured, running his hands along the soft, scarred pale skin. “Canne suck ye off? Please Bonnie? I wasn't ye dick in me mouth so bad”

Now soap was naturally chatty in bed, but to say he didn't play it up, just a little to see the pink flush Simons cheeks, who was usually very quiet and reserved in bed, would be a lie.

Upon receiving a nod of consent he dove down immediately licking and sucking. He spat into his hands, rubbing the up and down the shaft to get it slick. “Fuck ye so fucking big Bonnie. Jesus I can't wait to feel this monster cock inside me” He mindlessly poured out filth pressing a kiss to the flushed tip.

He began licking up and down the shaft watching the man above him through his eye lashes. Watching the uncovered half of his face turn a light pink, and his hands grip the sheets.

Well that just wouldn't do. Soap grabbed on of the hand guiding it to his hair before taking the tip in his mouth, relishing in the soft moan he received. He began swirling his tongue over the tip with slight head bobs, using his hands to cover what he couldn't cover with his mouth just yet.

Some how, even with the monster dick in his mouth, he managed to spew flith, albeit harder to understand through the cock in his mouth. “You taste so fucking good love. Fuck I could never get tired of the taste of you”

Simons hips bucked forward, forcing his cock down Soaps throat making him gag, tears springing up in his eyes, as the cock hit the back of his throat.

Simon gasped pulling back “I-Shit Johnny I didn't mean to are you okay? I-”

Soap shut him up with a kiss. “Shush, I am fine. Remember I like gagging on it. Anyways ye buckin’ ye hips just mean ay was doing good”

He dove back down properly sucking this time, hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head. When Simons hips bucked again, he moaned around the length. This was heaven he was sure. Having the heavy weight of Simons cock filling his mouth, and Simon an pretty moaning mess above him.

Looking up at the man through his eyelashes, he felt his own, already hard, cock twitch with interest. Simon was resting his head against the wall, face pretty and flushed, blond eyelashes fluttering.

Soap groaned at the sight. “Fuck ye so pretty Bonnie” It didn't take much more before Simon was pulling him off with shaky hands, wanting to avoid cumming to early.

With his mouth now free, Soap kissed his boyfriend, loving the groans Simon gave at tasting himself on soaps tongue. Soap licked into his mouth groaning, rolling his hips without thinking about it. “Come on love, fuck me already” he whined into Simons mouth, rolling his hip again.

Simon needed several breaths before he could put himself together enough to talk “Hang on Johnny..you.. you need prep.”

Soap just giggled. “Nup. I don'.” At the confused and slightly concerned look he received, he continued “Appreciate the concern Bonnie. But just because we haven't fucked today, doesn't mean I ain't fucked myself thinking of you. So ay am more then stretched, okay?”

And Jesus Christ, soap wanted to grab his phone and take a picture.

Or scratch that, he wanted to burn this image into his retina, wanted to see it all the time, every time he closed his eyes or blinked he wanted to see it.

Simon looked like a fucking painting.His eyes blown wide, face a bright pink, mouth hanging open still a slight string of their mixed saliva dribbling down his chin.

After giving it a whole two minutes, Soap booped his nose “Earth to Simon?”

He blinked a few times before letting out a quiet “Oh”

Soap traced a hand down the muscled chest “Yeah oh. So we good? Because I need you in me like.. yesterday. Come on”

Simon nodded. Finally pushing soap back against the bed and hiking his knees over his shoulders. Soap let his head fall against the cushions. “Fuck yes Simon. Please. God you are gonna feel so fucking good with you huge fucking dick. Come on just fuck me.”

As soon as Simon started pushing in, soap let out the most whorish pornstar moan before whining “Oh fuck oh fuck. Yes yes fuck me. Mm fuck~”

As Simon finally, finally bottomed out, soap groaned. “Oh god.. oh fuckk.. Simon you're you're so big. Fuck I'm so fucking full. So good” he blabbered mindlessly, rocking his hips.

He let out a keening whine. “Come on. Fucking move Bonnie! I need you. Please please please. I'll do anything”

Simon slowly began to fuck into him, moaning quietly as he pulled out and pushed back in. His moans were very covered by Soaps whines and cries.

He cried out as Simon pulled out ramming right into his prostate. “Oh god yes! Simon! Right fucking there! Please please. I'm yours, just please.. keep ah~”

Simon began to pick up pace, ramming right into his sweet spot every time. Gripping Soaps hips with a bruising grip as he slammed into him.

“Simon! Simon! Please I'm so fucking close don't stop! Please please please please” The scot babbled mindlessly, drool dribbling his skin.

It didn't take much more to send him over the edge, thrust in a hard orgasm, clenching around Simon as he fucked him through it.

It only took a few more thrusts before Simon finished inside of soap, before flopping on his chest.

When he tried to pull out, soap hooked his ankles behind his arse pushing him back in. “Not happening Bonnie. I wanna feel you in me”

[alkalineapparition]

Jaws

Simon Ghost Riley x Hybrid!Reader|Full Chapter

Part 12– Basking in the solace of regret

"RIPPER, NO!"

This is the moment that will stay with Simon for the rest of his life. Someday, when he's watching his mistakes play in frantic strokes of color on the canvas of his eyelids, this is what will haunt him most.

You, for all your ferocity, gift him one last look. Soft, apologetic. No intention of heeding his command. When he reaches for the handle on the back of your vest, you slip through his fingers like water. Gone.

Just. Like. That.

You'd both been pinned for a while now. The others were farther behind, providing rear security so you could retrieve what they came for. They hadn't known, couldn't see past the smoke clouding your positions. And he hadn't had the time to tell them, between returning fire and holding position, before a close call shot his comms to shit. He hadn't had the time...

He should have made the time.

And now there would never be more time. The clock had stuck twelve, the hour glass run out of sand.

Because you had decided your life mattered less than his. Mattered less than the mission. Goddammit.

He no can no longer see you, he's lost sight and all he can think is how he'd rather become dust and smoke himself than come home without you.

Leaning back against the small outcrop of rocks you'd been taking cover behind, his eyes close. Then, he does something he hasn't done since he was a child.

He prays.

He prays to the bastard that's never bothered giving an answer before. Teeth gritting down to the nub, he wills the asshole to hear him.

Bring her back to me.

In this moment, Ghost hates himself. He's never been more useless—he can't just charge in after you, the lack of vision would make it suicide. Perhaps you'd been able to see what he couldn't. But then why did you go alone, if not to save him from whatever it is you saw? If he got up and charged after you now, would he find you grinning in triumph, or be faced with a wall of enemy soldiers riddling his body with bullets?

Some fucking leuitenant, huh?

As if he could summon you by mere thought, his mind drifts, one final goodbye.

—

You stand before him, head cocked, mouth curled in mischief. His skullplate sits on the desk after having gone missing for a few days (during which you swear you haven't seen it, of course not Lt!), now doodled with little pink ghosts. "Y' little shit." His hand snaps foward to snatch your collar, but you duck, snickering as you make for the door. [It washes off Lt! No, please! Uncle, uncle!]

—

[Ghost.]

"Hm?"

[Why do you wear the mask?]

He looks up, watching your face as you gnaw your lip. His tug up in a smirk. "To hide my face."

[Are you ugly?] The bluntness of your question almost makes him laugh. [It's alright if you are.] Sweet girl.

"Quite the opposite, love."

Something in his stomach flips at the sight of your face going red.

[Oh.]

He can't resist. "No' as pretty as yours, mind you."

You sputter as expected, and he does laugh.

[What do you look like?]

He pretends to think it over.

"Got a tattoo of the queens arse on m' left cheek," he says solemnly.

You choke, eyeing him and his inked arms speculatively before deciding he's full of shit.

He lets you believe what you will.

—

The dove-grey light of Sunday mornings filters through the blinds. Your eyes are filled with tears, body trembling with the force of your sobs. Simon wraps his arms around you, cheek pressed to your hair.

[I don't even have a name. I am nothing, it's like I don't exist.] He closes his eyes, searching for the words that will soothe this ache.

"Your name's Ripper. Ya ain't nothin', either. You're our best girl." It's the best he can do, offer placations, even if they are true. He hates that he can't do more.

[That's a not a name, Ghost, it's a callsign! I don't... I don't even know what my mother named me.] You're still for a few moments. [I... don't know if I have a mother.]  Simon rattles his brain for a way to make this right, something that can be a salve to your pain.

"How about... I give ya a real name? Somethin' other than what that bloody scot came up with." He doesn't think this will be enough, it's a stupid idea–

[What... would you name me?] Your eyes are on him, curiosity shining through the tears. Seems it was enough to distract you, for now atleast.

Humming, he contemplates. "I'll find somethin' that fits. Wait for inspiration an' all that."

[How will you know it's right?]

"I'll know, Rips. Promise."

—

Simon never did pick out that name.

He wonders what they'll put on your headstone.

[goodlucktai]

could you please do prompt number one with the a team duo? (raph and leo!!!) i just think leo is in need of big brother love sometimes <3 prompt number one: "Shit. Shit, shit, shit, c'mere." (btw, ur writing is amazing im literally blown away every time!!! tysm for all the writing u do)

dialogue prompts

1. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit, c’mere.”

x

Something bad happened to Leo in the prison dimension. In the minutes—the minutes—between losing him and getting him back, something bad happened to him.

“This isn’t right,” Casey had said that first night in the medbay, staring at the X-rays on the illuminator as if he could change them by wanting it hard enough. “These breaks aren’t new. They can’t be.” 

“He wasn’t running around with a spiral fracture in his tibia before the alien invasion,” Donnie replied tersely, more high strung with every second his twin remained limp and unresponsive on the infirmary bed. 

Mikey was glued to Leo’s side like a miserable orange barnacle, Splinter rarely venturing more than two steps away at a time. April had been torn in two with worry for Leo and worry for her mom, and had only been convinced to leave when S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N pinkie-promised to feed live updates to her phone at the top of every minute. 

If Leo had woken up even for just a minute back on Staten Island, it would have been a reassurance his family could stack all their hopes on. Instead, the brother they dragged out of the void had about as much life to his limbs as a ragdoll. His head lolled in Donnie’s hands like something out of a horror movie—and Mikey’s breaths started to shudder, and Raph thought for a fleeting, hysterical second that the world had ended, after all—and then Donnie found a heartbeat. He showed a weeping Mikey where to find it, their fingers pressed in the soft hollow of Leo’s throat where the carotid artery pulsed loud and clear. Raph kept his own hand there for the entire trip home. If that stubborn heart stopped he didn’t know what he would do. He didn’t know what he would do. 

“But the bone has already formed a hard callus,” Casey said. “I know sensei and my uncles healed faster than mom and Aunt April did but still. Leo shouldn’t have reached this stage of healing for another week at least.” 

Donnie’s face, already stormy, reached a level of dark anger Raph had never seen before. He studied the charts on the wall without speaking, memorizing them. Ninpo sparked around his fingers like he was only barely resisting committing violence, and only because the desired target was well beyond his reach. 

“What does that mean?” Raph asked hoarsely. His hands were squeezed tight between his knees so no one would see if they started to shake. 

“It means that either Nardo broke his bones in about eight different places a week ago and no one noticed,” Donnie said in a brittle deadpan, “or that monster put its hands on him in the prison dimension and Leo healed from it somehow.” 

“But he was only in there for like, for like ten minutes,” Mikey warbled. He sounded heartsick and confused and too young to carry the weight of the world on his shell. “We got him right back out, we—we didn’t leave him in there long enough for all that.” 

“I have a theory,” Donnie said, and then didn’t say anything else. He dragged a chair over to Leo’s bed with an unholy screeching sound, tucked his head against his twin’s at what couldn’t have been a comfortable angle, and started to tap around on his phone. 

“Okay,” Casey said at length, recognizing an immovable object when he saw one. He turned to Raph instead, a child-sized soldier whose mission wasn’t quite finished yet. “Raphael, could I look at your eye?”

He had finished cleaning Raph’s eye and patching up his shoulder and moved onto wrapping Mikey’s hands when Donnie surged up from his chair so suddenly that everyone in the room jumped. His phone crunched into two distinct pieces in his hand, military-grade case and all, and he flung them away. 

“Woah, hey,” Raph said, “Dee, are you—” 

“I ran diagnostics on Leo’s gear,” Donnie said. It was his flat, toneless voice, the one that meant he was feeling so many things he had to shut something down to prevent a total systems failure. “The timestamps didn’t make any sense. So I ran them again. And again. And everything seems to be indicating that Leo was in the prison dimension for over three hundred hours.”

No, Raph thought. He stared at the shape of his little brother in that bed, at the vivid black and blue bruises on his face—noticing for the first time the faint yellows of much older ones around his neck. 

Horror crept up Raph’s throat. 

Please, no. 

“What?” Mikey blurted, sounding as hysterical as Raph felt. “What? No, he couldn’t. He couldn’t have. It was only—”

“For us, thirteen minutes,” Donnie said bleakly. “For Leo, thirteen days.”

Since then, Raph has learned a lot more about temporal differentials and post-captivity recovery than he ever wanted to know. Donnie made four different PowerPoint presentations that the entire family was forced to sit through. All of them are budding experts on several subjects that they might otherwise not have been, studying as feverishly as undergrad students cramming for a final, desperate to be helpful. 

So this is Raph’s fault. He knew better.

If he’d taken even a second to think before following the unmistakable sound of a turtle falling out of bed into Leo’s room, before lunging over to the crumpled-up form of his little brother on the floor, he would have recognized the blackout for what it was. He, of all people, should have seen it. 

The episodes are few and far between, but only because Leo is rarely left alone when he’s awake, and sleeps even less than he did before. It’s easier for him to keep his head straight when he’s ensconced in a turtle pile, or curled up in Splinter’s lap for reruns of really bad soap operas that he mumbles along to in Spanish, or keeping Mikey company in the kitchen, taste-testing everything that gets pushed his way (handily supplementing all the meals he only picks at, Michelangelo is a genius for discovering that work-around). 

It’s when he’s asleep and the nightmares come knocking that they have to worry. If Raph had known he was in here taking a nap, he would have made sure Leo had company. He probably would have curled up around the slider himself, giving Leo’s highly strung subconscious a hand,  soothing him back to sleep before the bad dream could dig its hooks into him and yank him awake. 

But the sleepiness probably hit him in a sudden burst, the messy pile of pillows and stolen purple blanket too tempting to resist. He must have curled up to rest his eyes and drifted off. 

And he woke up alone, in the dark. The shape of someone much bigger than him looming above everything else. Raph knew better. He did. Of course a cornered animal was going to bite. 

“Fuck,” he breaths out, white hot pain shooting up his arm from where Leo had buried his teeth a moment ago. It hurt, but it had nothing on the way his heart was breaking. 

He’d seen Donnie lash out like this a few times before, overstimulated and fully ready to bite whoever was stupid enough to put their hands on him, but not since they were kids. Mikey used to handle all fits of temper by hiding in his shell and closing the little hinge to keep everyone else firmly out, grumbling ticked-off turtle noises until he was left alone. 

When Leo was little, on the other hand, he wanted attention when he was feeling bad—he wanted to be picked up and held and would cry and pout until he got his way. Whether he was feeling upset or angry or scared, the solution was always more or less the same.

There’s no recognition in his eyes now. Leo has never looked at Raph this way before, even when Raph was the Krang’s puppet, even when Raph had him dangling by a strangling grip on his throat—even then, Leo didn’t look at him like he was a stranger. 

He had to fight like this in the prison dimension, didn’t he? He had to tear survival out of that place piece by bloody piece.

Raph hates that he had to do that and loves him for it in equal measure. 

“It’s okay, Leo,” Raph murmurs. “You did just right, okay? You stayed alive. However you have to do that is okay. You got mixed up just now, but it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have scared you. Raph’s so sorry.”

Leo is staring at him, eyes wide and glassy. All the gold in them is edged out to black, pupil swallowing iris whole. There’s blood on the corner of his mouth. He smacks his tongue, tasting it. Like the worst version of giving him ice cubes to hold or peppermint to smell, it grounds him, bringing him back to the present moment. 

Raph watches Leo realize where he is and what he’s doing, sitting on the floor in the corner of the room with blood in his mouth. 

“Raph?” he says, small and scared and sixteen years old. 

“It’s me, I’m here,” Raph says, too fast, “you’re safe, Leon.” 

Leo’s eyes drift lower. He clocks the teeth marks in Raph’s arm and starts to cry.

“Shit,” Raph says, scrambling forward frantically on hands and knees. “Shit, shit, shit, c’mere.” 

Leo spills willingly into his hug, like it’s ten years ago and he’s had his heart broken by an argument with his twin and nothing on earth could possibly console him but he was willing to let Raphie try. 

Except Raphie knew all the tricks. Raphie knew that tearful little turtles just needed to be squeezed tight and rumbled at and snuffled until they couldn’t help but giggle. 

It isn’t such an easy fix this time. Leo’s shoulders shake like he’ll never stop crying, his wet sticky face smearing salt and blood where he has it crammed in the crook of Raph’s neck. He clings as if he’s half-afraid something or someone is going to wrench him away. 

Not in this lifetime. Never again. 

“I’ve got you,” Raph tells him. Heart settling now that his little star is in his arms, safe and sound. They could come back from anything as long as they had this much. “Raph’s always got you. Don’t be scared. Don’t be sorry. We’re okay.” 

[winters-light]

Sip and Paint

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1k

A/N: bucky at the stark expo in tfa letting the girl drag him around??? this is 1000% realistic and I have had this idea for weeks but was too lazy and then when I finally sat down and wrote half I forgot to save it and had to rewrite it so rip :')

please comment and lmk what you think because i’m still new and so in my head about my writing!

“Oh my god, Bucky,” she gasped suddenly as she stopped in the middle of the aisle.

Currently, the pair were in the supermarket on a Friday evening - the first Friday evening they'd both had free in weeks - doing their weekly food shop. It had been a long week and honestly, she was so exhausted the last thing she wanted to do was to go out drinking with the rest of the team. Instead, she and her fiancé had decided to cook dinner together and have a quiet night in.

“What?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice as he glanced over to where she was pointing.

“Look it’s us,” she excitedly gestured towards some paint your own avenger figurines.

They had somehow found themselves cutting through the toy aisle and the Avenger section had caught her eye. She had been part of the team for nearly two years now, yet somehow it was still so surreal whenever she saw toys and other merchandise modelled after herself.

A small smirk appeared on his lips as he took the two figures in. He picked one the boxes up, allowing his eyes to study the miniature version of himself, finding himself impressed with the attention to detail on his uniform.

“Damn… This actually looks pretty good,” he chuckled, running his metal hand through his hair before carefully placing it back on the shelf.

Noticing the way his mouth subtly curved up in amusement, an idea crept into her mind. "Pretty please can we get them?" she asked sweetly, widening her eyes ever so slightly as she blinked up at him.

"Fine,” he sighed softly, rolling his eyes and shaking his head though the small smirk remained in place. He was hopeless against her pouting and they both knew it. She had the Winter Soldier wrapped around her pretty little finger; he could never deny her anything.

Her lips quickly flicked up into an excited smile as she added two boxes to the trolley before pushing it along so they could continue with their shopping.

***

Once they had finished cleaning up from dinner, she excitedly set up the figurines and paints on the dining table, snapping a quick picture for her socials - as cheesy as it was.

The scene looked like something straight from Pinterest, she had lit candles and got out their fanciest wine glasses determined to make a romantic evening of it. This week in particular had been extremely stressful, and she figured they both deserved to relax and spend some quality time together.

“Baby,” she called out for Bucky to join her. She greeted him with a gentle kiss on the cheek and instructed him to sit down. She giggled softly shaking her head as he sat down in front of his own clay figure. “Nope, we’re painting each other, it’ll be more fun that way.”

“Fine,” Bucky groaned and reluctantly agreed, unable to deny her. This whole ‘paint and sip’ thing she had insisted on as soon as she saw the figures in the supermarket sounded ridiculous to him, but she looked so excited by the prospect he couldn’t bear to refuse her. Besides, he found the whole 'sip' part of the night extremely agreeable. And maybe he did secretly adore all the effort she had put into their date night; it had been so long since anyone had cared for him like this.

Bucky shook his head in slight amusement as he picked up his wine glass and took a long sip before picking up the clay figure of you. He ran his hand over the smooth clay with a soft hum, impressed at its likeness to her.

"Just don't laugh at me, if mine looks completely awful," he grumbled though a hint of a smile played at the corners of his lips as he grabbed the brush and dipped it carefully into the paint.

“I won’t,” she chuckled softly and shook her head, watching him as he began to work. She was surprised to see how seriously he was taking this, the way his metal hand held the figure so gently and his whole face had scrunched up in concentration. She smiled at the sight taking a sip of her drink before picking up her own brush.

***

The hours passed by quietly, the couple surprisingly more invested in their art projects than either of them expected to be.

“This is a lot harder than I thought it would be,” she muttered swearing under her breath as she accidentally smudged some of the paint on her figure. The paint that came with the kit was awful and patchy and had preferred to stick to their hands and anywhere but the model. She had been struggling to paint in the details on his face for the last hour and was just about ready to give up.

"You're telling me," Bucky replied with a soft chuckle, equally as frustrated as he smeared away and attempted to start on the painting again. His brows were furrowed in a deep look of concentration, his tongue sticking out between his teeth as he focused intensely on the figure in front of him. "This is impossible."

“Ready to call it a night?” she suggested as she poured the last of the wine into her glass and practically drank it in one sip.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea,” he murmured in agreement, letting out an exasperated sigh as he set the figure down. He looked a bit disappointed in his work, but at the same time, he couldn't help but to chuckle at how ridiculous they looked sitting there, frustrated over a painting meant for children.

She nodded, chuckling softly as she looked over their figures. Despite their best efforts, the paint messily smudged over the figures barely even resembled humans anymore. She stood letting out a soft yawn deciding that tidying could wait until morning. She grabbed the remaining bottle of wine on the table and took it into their bedroom with Bucky in an attempt to salvage the rest of their night.

[antheshewro]

For Recruit!Levi, the snow was a mesmerizing sight. The small, crystallized clusters of frozen water falling from the sky, blanketing the earth with a pristine layer of white. Such a spectacle was one to behold, one that was almost foreign to him. In the grim, darkened corners of the underground, there was no such thing as snow. Only muck, filth, and rot. Where life was so incredibly cheap, with the constant threat of being stabbed in the back at any given moment. Here, on the outside, it was a different story. It was as if time stopped, and the world changed.

Such beauty. All white, and perfect.

It was strange. The sensation of cold, cold, cold, and yet, it doesn't rain. He was used to the rain, always pouring, always cold, never dry. Here, it was just cold. Icy cold, in fact. The sky had turned into a bleak grey and the freezing, cold air chilled him to the bone. Around him, he could hear the sound of murmurs and laughter as his fellow soldiers indulged themselves in the scenery and played in the powdered snow, after an expedition. They decided to take a break, and that valley was a safe spot after they got rid of the titans that were roaming around.

His boots crunched against the sleet on the grass, his fair cheeks now flushed—just like his nose. His hands were freezing; he wasn't used to that much cold. The Underground was cold, it's true, but there in the Surface, winter was freezing. It made his fingers hurt if he tried to move them.

He even observed a snowflake for five full minutes, as it landed on the sleeve of his coat. His mind couldn't wrap around the fact that such a thing could exist in the first place. Where did it come from? How could it pour from the sky and not be like a raindrop? Levi had too many unanswered questions; it had only been two months that he left the Underground, but he felt like a kid, at 26.

Sitting on a cold rock, snuggling underneath his scarf, he looked at a patch of white snow near the tips of his leather boots. He hesitated for a moment, glancing around him—seeing if anyone was looking. Then, with his index finger, he began to draw patterns on the snow. Absently, but his grey eyes were focused.

Nobody saw him that day. But he would remember his very first day on the snow for years to come, and return to the same spot—thanking his good memory for that—to watch the snow falling from the sky.

[ff7-has-taken-me-over]

Zack’s not a jealous guy. He doesn’t see the point in it really. He has faith in his partners and he’s confident enough in himself that it doesn’t matter if other people wanna flirt with them. If his partner is unhappy or wishes for something else he trusts they’ll tell him.

But apparently that doesn’t exactly translate well to his friendship with Cloud. Like, yeah. He’s got a crush on the guy, how could he not? The blond is so adorable and devastatingly beautiful sometimes and his dry wit and awkward charm make Zack giggle like a child. It’s hard not to fall for him.

So he understands, logically, why his fellow SOLDIER’s would be asking about the blond he’s been hanging out with recently. He understands why they’re all asking him to set them up with Cloud or maybe put in a good word for them. He gets it, would totally be one of them if he wasn’t already friends with the blond.

What he doesn’t get is why there’s so much seething jealousy when he catches them so much as looking at the blond. Let alone actually trying to ask him out. Every time one of them come and ask him to give them Cloud’s number he has to restrain himself from snapping at them.

Gritting his teeth and spouting off some bullshit reason of why he can’t do that. It’s wrong and he shouldn’t be gatekeeping his best friend like he has any say in who the guys dates but he can’t help it.

[lovelyghst]

just imagine ghost getting his Jacob's ladder piercing while he's dating you and after it's healed yall have sex for the first time and it's just like sensory overload

i know absolutely nothing about piercings, but this idea is simply too good to pass up. my brain is melting.

hmmm, thinking about ghost who, despite not being able to properly get off himself, is still so attentive to his sweet girl throughout the whole healing process; offering you his mouth and fingers whenever he notices your focus beginning to drift off and shift elsewhere, having you rub yourself up on his jean-clad thigh when you can’t seem to shake the burst of energy.

because while you never outright asked him for anything of the kind, he just knew.

and even if you were the one so insistent on following the piercer’s advice—taking each and every precaution possible in avoiding the risks that simon shrugged off as ‘not gonna happen.’—you still felt bad. though, he couldn’t resist your stern pouting for long, turning weak the moment you cocked your head and promised him a sweet treat when he’s all healed up.

so, of course, ‘whatever you say, doll.’

anything to put your pretty mind at ease. he is a soldier, after all. he can wait, even if it kills him. it got pretty damn close to it, too.

which is what makes the first time back so fucking good. that reunion, and the return of that glimmering look you get in your eyes every other time he presses his pink lips to your collar and gently hikes you up the mattress after a long time away.

and truthfully, he was done in the moment you tapped him on his shoulder and told him to guess what day it was.

“shit, baby—” he grits out with a heavy breath, eyes trained on your own as he watches you reverently lick up the underside of his cock. your fingers tighten around the base when his abs pull taut, tongue gliding over the cool metal.

taking your time in feeling each and every barbell leading to the tip, making him twitch in your hand at the hot and wet drag over his sensitive skin. a heavy breath seeps from his lungs, his jaw clenching as he fights to hold off. jesus, you’re too good to him.

a sweet fucking treat, indeed.

you giggle before taking the head of him between your swollen, spit-stained lips, reveling in the quick hiss he sucks in through his teeth as you whine at the familiar taste of his pre leaking onto your tongue. your other hand slips up his thigh while you squeeze your own together, your freshly done-up nails leaving little, pink crescent shapes in his thick skin.

“fuck— not gonna last ‘f you keep that up,” he warns, a struggle in and of itself, and it’s an utter miracle he doesn’t collapse to the floor when you only hollow your cheeks and suck in response. he hardly manages to stifle an embarrassingly whorish moan at that.

god, you look so pretty down there, on your knees for him. so fucking debauched, and so, so perfect.

the way your thumb toys with the piercings as you have your own fun, and how you preen in his hold like a sweet cat when he slips a hand to the back of your neck. he’s going to miss it when he forces himself to pull you away, frowning at the pout you give him as he’s lifting you off your feet and carrying you over to your bed.

“’m sorry, sweetheart… just too fuckin’ pretty for yer old man anymore— didn’t want it t’go to waste.”

he kisses your temple, mumbling his apologies in your hair. you hardly even register your bare back making contact with your sheets, so wrapped up in his hold, before he’s kissing his way down your neck.

“wanna fill yer pretty cunt,” he murmurs, and it’s nearly incoherent as his lips press against your racing pulse point. “make ‘er cum ‘round my cock… know y’missed it too, sweet girl. a proper fuck…”

he’s talking more to himself than anything, and a small gasp from you follows soon after when his arm is snaked between your bodies and his fingertips make contact with your swollen, little clit. won’t even stretch you out with his fingers; he’s had his fill of that over the course of the last month. let him feel how much you missed his cock.

“poor thing’s soaked f’me, baby.” he groans as he adjusts on his forearm and regains his bearings, dick twitching against your thigh with every noise squeaked out from your throat. “cunt’s gonna take me just right, lovie… so fuckin’ well…”

he rambles a lot when he’s needy, you’ve come to learn.

you whine when his hand leaves you to take his cock in a fist, your nails digging into his chest and shoulder when he presses the head to your messy pussy. just the tip in and you’re already seeing stars, the shared moan between the two of you raw and pornographic.

he’s gritting out his swears before you try to shush his dirty mouth with a kiss, and he accepts it greedily, almost too eagerly.

your body reacts to his, simultaneously craving more and trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation all at once. your brain is fuzzy by the time he’s nearly bottoming out inside you, ears deaf to the unabashed sounds spilling from your lips as the feeling of his fresh piercings dragging against your every sweet spot burns itself into your memory.

and before you can catch your breath, a thumb is being pressed up against your sensitive bud once again, your legs constricting around him involuntarily as you jolt with a cry. heat prickles at your skin, his teeth at your jaw making your spine tingle.

he’s telling you to cum, begging you to make a mess of his cock.

his hand picks up its pace, hips grinding against yours sloppier than ever as he pleads right up against your temple for you to use him, just finish him off, fucking cum for him.

you squeeze around his cock like a vice and pull him straight under with you, arms locked tight around his neck as your pretty cunt utterly wrecks him. making him throb and twitch, fucking himself dumb through his high and wringing him dry of everything he’s kept pent up for you. at least for now, anyway.

his and your panting rings out in the room as he sits back on his knees, his cock still hard as he gently pulls out of you. watching his pearly cum bead from your slit, your chest gradually slowing down within the time he takes to drool over the sight of you.

it’s not long before simon has you laying on your tummy with your head in the soft sheets, a pillow slipped underneath your hips to prop you up. not making you do an ounce of work as he uses your warm, pliant cunt as his sweet cum dump for hours on end.

fucking you gently, lovingly, all while trying his best to keep his weight off your back. he kisses behind your ear, cooing praises and choked grunts that make your tummy flutter with butterflies. you can only giggle into the pillow nestled in your arms as he makes up for all the lost time.

filling you with load after load, the number becoming lost on your fuzzy mind after a certain amount, until your belly is achingly full and his cock is numb from overstimulation. only to coax you onto your back, easing your limp legs apart to watch his cum leak from your pretty hole. pressing a flat palm to your lower tummy, sighing in time with your strangled noises as your sensitive pussy drips more of his spend. leaning forward and licking it all up like some starved mutt; groaning at the taste, arms tightening around your hips as he eats his mess out of his pretty girl.

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere soldier with Stockholm syndrome

Part Two of Yandere Soldier

Yandere Soldier - Stockholm Syndrome

Yandere! Solider who can't get you to talk to him. You'll sit curled in the corner of the bed, resolutely looking anywhere but at him.

Yandere! Soldier who brings you books, flowers, even old picture albums he finds stashed at the bottom of your cupboard. And still nothing but silence.

Yandere! Soldier who's beginning to think nothing will ever break it. That he's stilled that vicious tongue of yours forever. Who hates himself for what he's done, but what choice did he have? Yes, he's taken you from your home and family and all that was familiar. But was an interrogation room really the better option?

Yandere! Soldier who comes home with a nasty cut all across his arm. Some dumb kid got smart and slashed him when his back was turned and now he's forced into recovery leave for a week.

At first, you just watch him struggle to change his bandages. But something about his injury, this reminder of mortality, sticks with you. You pluck the roll of bandages straight out of his hand and wrap his injury for him.

Yandere! Soldier who stays frozen while you work, terrified of frightening you away. Who basks in the intimacy of it - your bowed head, the delicate smell of your perfume, the pulse fluttering at your throat.

Yandere! Soldier who has to swallow and breathe before he can find his voice again.

Спасибо

Thank you.

You shrug and let go of his arm. Yandere! Soldier who hates to loose your touch. Who wants to pull you back and force you to cradle his face in your palms. But he doesn't want to ruin this tiny bit of progress.

Yandere! Soldier who fills the silence with his stories. Who tells you about his training, his childhood, the places he's been deployed to and how happy he was to leave them. Who teaches you words in his native language, even if you don't bother repeating them.

Yandere! Soldier who comes home exhausted and aching, who sprawls on the bed with a groan and instinctively reaches for you.

Yandere! Soldier who has to bite back a yelp of surprise when he feels your climb onto his back and straddle his waist. You slowly knead at his muscles, massaging away all the knots and tension and lingering aches.

Yandere! Soldier who has to stifle a moan because it feels so damn good.

Yandere! Soldier who finds you waiting at the door the next morning, still as quiet as a monk. He's immediately suspicious. Are you going to make a run for it? Instead you stand on your tip toes and press a quick, uncertain kiss to his cheek.

Yandere! Soldier who keeps touching the place you kissed him, even when it's hidden under his mask.

Yandere! Soldier who cooks you dinner most nights, even if he's dog tired, even if all you do is push it around your plate.

Yandere! Soldier who brings you news of the city and the war effort. The resistance is faltering, it's leaders hunted and put down like dogs. Part of him hopes the news will make you more pliant. Why fight the inevitable?

Yandere! Soldier who doesn't like the way your eyes get hard when he talks about the resistance, the way you clench your jaw and look away from him.

You mutter something and it takes him a moment to decipher it.

"I should be out there with them."

Yandere! Soldier who tries and fails to contain his anger. Who grabs your jaw and pulls you up to face him.

"If you were out there, you'd be dead. Can't you be thankful?"

You're quiet again after that and he stops bringing it up.

Yandere! Soldier who doesn't leave anything sharp around the apartment, but is still surprised when you ask him to trim your hair. He sits on the bed with you between his knees, carefully filtering the hair through his fingers. You're so close to him - willingly - that it makes him feel almost lightheaded.

Yandere! Soldier who carefully dusts the cuttings off you and is secretly pleased when you don't flinch away.

Yandere! Soldier who isn't sure how to react when you start greeting him at the door. At first he watches you warily, expecting you to bolt the second you can. But for some reason you don't and a part of him insists that you're starting to like it here.

Yandere! Soldier who exercises every evening, his shirt off and his black fatigues slung low on his hips. He likes it when you watch him and he'll usually throw in a few extra push-ups just to impress you. He complains that he doesn't have enough weight around for his workouts and you take to draping yourself across his back when he needs it.

Yandere! Soldier who finds himself craving you, even with your cold silence. Who is constantly aware of you around the apartment and has to force himself to look away.

Yandere! Soldier who turns off all the electricity in the dead of winter and claims it was damaged in the fighting. It's icy cold in old buildings like this and it doesn't take long for it to wear you down. Soon you're curled up against him, glaring at him to keep his hands to himself.

And he does, for the most part.

Yandere! Soldier who wakes up to you sobbing, your face pressed into his chest. He tries to soothe you, but you flinch away. You whisper between the sobs, sounding afraid and hateful and needy all at once.

"I love you..."

Yandere! Soldier who instantly understands what's happened. He's spent the better part of his life in war zones afterall, and it's more common than you'd think. Yandere! Soldier who secretly hoped for this outcome all along.

Yandere! Soldier who soothes you as best he can, stroking your hair until your sobs turn to whimpers. He presses his lips to your forehead and tells you to relax, that this was bound to happen, that's it's not your fault.

Yandere! Soldier who holds you in his scarred arms and knows that he's finally caught you, body and soul. Who says the words you long for but dread hearing.

я тоже тебя люблю

"I love you too."

[vivwritesfics]

Marshmallow

Her bed is too comfy for Bucky. But she has a solution

Fluff, fluff, so much fluff - but also I haven't written for this man in so long, it was like coming home

Her bed was like a marshmallow. Now, to most, this was no bad thing. But Bucky Barnes wasn't most. He was a soldier, Sergeant James Barnes. He wasn't used to comfort.

They'd met in such a normal way for a super soldier. Bucky had been trying to date, he'd been trying for so long after… everything, that he'd given up hope.

But there she was, reaching for a coffee that wasn't hers because she was too tired to proper comprehend it.

Her own name was called just after (Bucky definitely hasn't been listening while she ordered her own coffee, who said that?) and Bucky picked up her coffee and carried it to the outside table she'd been sitting at. There she was, ready to lift his coffee to her own lips.

“I think you've got mine,” he said with a warm smile as he showed her her own name written on the side of her cup.

She paused, pulled the coffee away from her mouth and looked at the name on the cup. Her head fell forward, embarrassment written on her face. “And my name isn't Bucky,” she said and pushed the cup of coffee towards him. “What kinda a name is that, anyway? I've never met a Bucky before.”

“It's a nickname,” he began as he slipped into the seat opposite her and placed her coffee down in front of her. He held out his flesh hand. “The name's James.”

“How do you get Bucky from James?”

Things progressed from there. Conversation was easy, in a way it hadn't been on any of his other dates and, by the end of the night, he was asking her to dinner.

It was dinner. And then a movie date. And then the library. Picnic in the park, nature walks, they did it all.

The first time Bucky stayed over (which took some convincing. They'd been seeing each other for three weeks and she'd determined that, after watching movies on her couch, it was too late for him to travel through the city back home), he'd just laid awake, sleep unwilling to find him.

He couldn't sleep, anyway. Not with her sleeping on his flesh arm. He played with her hair, touch gentle to not wake her. A little while before he met her, he would have seen a monster as his vibranium fingers played with her hair.

It kept happening. It was almost like Bucky couldn't stay away. And, every time he slept in her bed, she ended up sleeping against him in some capacity. Laying on his arm, head against his chest, holding his hand as it was wrapped around her middle.

He'd get used to it, he told himself. Lay there long enough and he'd fall asleep eventually.

Well, that wasn't how it was panning out. Bucky remained away, plastering a smile on his exhausted face the next morning so that she wouldn't worry about it. For now, it was working. For now, he was happy to wear that smile while they drank coffee on her couch, her feet in his lap.

It was his third night in her bed and Bucky was exhausted. Maybe this was the point where he could finally fall asleep beside her, holding her close.

But no, that wasn't the case. Of course it wasn't, Bucky never got that lucky.

She'd started the night laying on his chest, lips parted as soft snores left her lips. Bucky had his arm around her, keeping her close as he shut his eyes and tried to force himself into sleeping (which we know didn't work).

She rolled away from him in her sleep, releasing him completely. Bucky stayed there, laying on his back as he looked at her. She looked so pretty when she slept, and he couldn't stop himself from being jealous.

Pushing himself up, Bucky sucked in a breath. He rubbed his hand over his face, momentarily shutting his tired eyes. Even with his eyes shut, it offered him no rest.

It was, well, bullshit.

As carefully as he could, Bucky climbed out of the bed. He tried to leave the sheets undisturbed, to keep her asleep. But there was little he could do to stop himself from reaching over and kissing her cheek.

He left the room after that, feet quiet and carefully as they carried his heavy, muscled body away. He pulled the door as close to shut as he could without it clicking shut.

Loose in the apartment, Bucky didn't know what to do with himself. He got himself something to drink and just looked through the fridge. He sat on the couch, patting his thick, muscled thigh as he silently flipped through channels.

But there wasn't much he could do. Part of him debated laying on the floor and attempting to sleep, but he couldn't. Not when she was in the next room, probably searching for his warmth.

Through his boredom, Bucky remained quiet. He couldn't imagine anything worse than waking her up, not when she was sleeping so peacefully.

Except she wasn't sleeping peacefully. It was the absence of him that woke her. She knew something was wrong, she just couldn't place it. But then she woke up and Bucky was gone. That was what was wrong.

Wrapping a blanket around her shoulders and slipping her feet into her slippers, she walked out of the bedroom.

“Buck?” She called, voice groggy as she walked towards the couch. He turned his head, watching as she made her way to him and climbed up onto the couch. Throwing one leg over his, she seated herself on his lap and wrapped her arms around him. “What're you doing out here?”

His hands were on her hips as he looked at her. “Couldn't sleep,” he replied and pulled her towards him.

The kiss he placed against her lips was soft, sweet, slight beard scratching against her cheek as he moved towards her neck.

“I missed you,” she replied as she settled against him.

Suddenly, Bucky's lips stopped moving against her neck. He released a sigh and pulled back to look at her tired face. “Do you wanna know why I haven't taken you back to my place yet?” He asked and she nodded her head, fingers dancing across his chest in a soothing manner. “It's because I don't have a bed.”

“You don't have a bed?” She asked, looking up into his blue eyes.

He shook his head. “No, doll, I don't have a bed,” he repeated, his own fingers moving up and down her sides. It wasn't ticklish. No, it had her damn near falling asleep. “I tried to sleep on a bed, got an expensive one for my apartment. Had it for a week before I got rid of it. When I tried laying on the floor, I actually got to sleep.”

Suddenly, she was standing. She grabbed two pillows from the sofa, held them against her chest and grabbed his hand. “C'mon,” she said and led him over to the empty corner of the room.

Throwing the pillows down, she sat and laid the blanket down on top of her. She patted the space beside her, looking up at her with her pretty eyes.

Bucky sat beside her. She pulled the blankets over his legs and then pushed his back against the pillow. “Doll,” he began as she rolled over, resuming her position from earlier. “You don't have to do this.”

“I want to,” she replied and kissed his shoulder.

“But you back-”

And then she was hushing him, shutting him up with a kiss. “Let me do this for you. Besides, if things get uncomfortable I can always lay on you, right?”

“Right.”

She settled down against him, eyes shutting. But seconds later, Bucky had her in his grasp. He rolled her over until she was laying on top of him and kissed the top of her head. “There,” he said against her hair. “That's better.”

And, that night, Bucky Barnes fell asleep.

[figthoughts]

soldier boy just can’t keep his hands out of your underwear no matter where you are and how many times you tell him off ⋆˚⟡˖ ࣪

— smut, caught in the act (soldier boy x fem!reader) 18+

⋆ .𖥔˚

“not here, ben!”

“we’re in public, ben!”

“butcher’s right next door, ben!”

ben just doesn’t give a shit. his fingers would slip past the waistband of your lace panties and quickly find their way between your thighs, feeling your soft clit with the pads of his fingers.

your eyes dart to the motel door and you let out a breath as you feel him gently rub your pussy, “b-ben, no. the others will be back soon.”

soldier boy laughs, used to your usual worry about getting caught with his hands down your pants. you’re always so concerned about other people when he’s trying to make you feel good.

“sweetness, just shut the fuck up and let me touch you. got it?” he says lowly, his rough fingers speeding up on your clit.

you hum softly, your pleading expression starting to soften as he slips a finger down to your entrance, sliding it in. you gasp quietly as he pulls you backwards onto his lap, his chest pressing against your back as his hand works between your thighs.

your head drops back onto his shoulder as he curls his finger up inside your pussy while his thumb circles your clit, earning little groans and gasps from you. his other hand snakes around your neck, keeping you pressed against him. a gaspy moan leaves your lips as you melt into him.

“you love it when i play with your pussy like this, don’t you? you like the idea of the others catching us, huh, baby?”

you groan softly as he squeezes your neck, your hips starting to roll with his touch, “mmm, yes, sir.”

“good girl,” soldier boy murmurs into your ear and slips another finger into your cunt, his movements becoming harder as your pussy clenches around his meaty fingers.

you feel the knot begin to tighten in your stomach as he fucks in and out of your cunt, his thumb still roughly circling your clit. you groan as your hips jerk forward and you feel him harden beneath your ass. he groans softly as you rub against him.

“you gonna cum, baby girl?” his deep voice rumbles in your ear. all you can do is groan and nod, the pleasure from his hand clouding your brain. soldier boy chuckles and tightens his grip around your neck, forcing a strangled moan to escape from your lips.

“that’s it, cum for m—”

the door of the motel room swings open and butcher and hughie storm in, grumbling about something to each other.

you clamp your legs together in shock as both their eyes drift to you and soldier boy, and his hands wrapped around your neck and in your underwear.

the pair of them take in the scene in front of them. hughie immediately averts his eyes as his cheeks heat up from embarrassment, meanwhile a big stupid grin grows on butcher’s face.

“no fuckin’ shame, you two.” butcher mutters, his voice low and gruff. he shakes his head and chuckles, dumping his bag on the table as hughie awkwardly clears his throat.

your eyes are wide and you’re speechless, too embarrassed to say anything. soldier boy’s fingers continue to move as you squeeze your thighs together, your hand on his wrist silently begging him to stop.

“could learn to fuckin’ knock, ya know? fuckin’ blowjob brothers,” soldier boy grumbles back, secretly enjoying the fact you just got caught together like this, but frustrated you want to stop. he sighs and pulls his hand out from between your legs. your grip on his wrist loosens.

he pulls your head back with his hand on your throat. he moves his lips next to your ear and whispers, "don’t think we’re not finishing this later."

A/N: editing this high lol lowkey I think it makes it easier to focus anyways send me some requests if ur a freak. <333

requests and feedback are welcome!

[mactavishsgfandwife]

Soft Simon "Ghost" Riley Cuddling You 🧸

this is not about dominant tough simon riley, this is about sweet precious baby boy simon riley :3 this is my response to @paper-r-i-n-g-s-and-c-r-o-w-n’s request (here) and the link they included! thank u for being my first request loviee

Simon Riley absolutely loves to be babied when you cuddle him.

Scary Simon. Soldier Simon. 6’4", jacked Simon, walking around the base in his skull mask, scaring anyone who doesn’t know better shitless. To the enemy, he’s like an urban legend - once you realise that he’s there, it’s too late.

And that’s the image that he likes to keep - he grew up tough, and he refuses to be anything but tough. He might be nice now but he wouldn’t hesitate to blow your brains out if you double-crossed him.

That is, until he met you. It was hard to get him to open up at first, with his reluctance to be anything but casually terrifying, and his fear that he would get too attached, just in time for you to leave. But after 6 months together, he’s finally comfortable, and you’ve discovered his soft spot for being praised like a baby.

"Aww…" you coo, stroking his grown-out buzzcut, as he lays on your chest, "my sweet boy." His broad body is holding you down to the bed, and you know you wouldn’t be able to escape from under him if you wanted to. But you don’t mind, after all, it’s sweet to see him like this. With his face pressed into your neck, one strong arm around your waist and the other around your torso, he mumbles softly.

You press soft kisses into the top of his head as you rub his back - he’s been training all day and he’s so tired. :( Poor baby, he really needs you to hold him. His shoulders are sore and as you rub them gently he lets out a little whine, nuzzling his face further into the crook of your neck.

"Mmm," he groans, his voice muffled against your skin.

"Oh, baby…" you pull those hands back up to cradle him to you, "are you okay, sweet boy?"

"Tha’ hurts," he mumbles. He’s not very talkative when he’s like this, he just wants to be held.

"Sorry," you kiss the top of his head apologetically, "is my poor baby sore from training?" He groans as you call him that, nodding in response as he breathes in your scent.

"Speak up for me, sweetheart" you coo.

"’M sore from training."

"Who’s sore..?"

"Me."

"N what’re you, honey..?" you stroke his hair softly, like he’s a precious teddy bear.

"Your baby," he mumbles.

"Good boy." Just a few months ago, Simon would have been mortified by the interaction, but you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger, cuddling up to you like he’s a cat and you’re a heating pad. He is a good boy, and he deserves some comfort after working so hard. 💗💗💗

(my other - nsfw - story about pathetic simon here)

i hope this is what you asked for! i hope it doesn’t come off as too pathetic but also i love writing (and thinking about) sweet pathetic simon. <3 like omg if anyone knows who made the render then lmk so that i can credit! i wasn’t sure who the name on the image referred to

masterlist buy me a coffee

[em-ontv]

Soothe and pamper.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x lover!fem!reader

Summary: it had been a long week of hunting, and Dean said he was fine… until you came in, of course.

Content: fluff, Dean being needy and overdramatic (and clingy), no use of y/n, Sam being the third wheel (kind of)

English is not my first language, sorry if there are any mistakes!

Word count: 653

Dean Winchester was a master at the "I'm fine" act. After years of being on the hunt, he could brush off a rough week like it was second nature. So, when Sam asked if he was okay after their latest exhausting hunt, he just scoffed, as usual.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." Dean said, waving a dismissive hand like he was brushing off a pesky fly, as if he hadn't spent the last seven days chasing after demons across two states.

"Quit worrying, Sammy."

Sam raised an eyebrow but didn't press any further. This was like Dean's default setting—deny, deflect, and pretend like everything was cool, even if he looked like he'd been chewed up and spat out.

But then, you walked into the room.

As soon as Dean caught sight of you, his entire demeanor shifted. The tough-as-nails hunter, who moments ago had been shrugging off his brother's concern, let out an over-the-top groan so loud it echoed through the bunker.

You barely had a chance to say a word before Dean threw himself into your arms like a wounded soldier returning from battle.

"This week—oh, you wouldn't believe it!" He buried his face into your shoulder with a pitiful groan, his voice muffled against your shirt. "It's been so bad, baby. So bad."

You could feel the weight of his body sag against yours, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. He nestled his head into the crook of your neck.

It would've been pathetic if it wasn't so funny.

"I don't know how I made it out alive," Dean continued, pulling back just enough to look at you with wide, puppy-dog eyes, his bottom lip sticking out in an exaggerated pout. "The food was nasty, the motel beds were terrible, and don't even get me started on the demons!"

You ran your fingers through his hair as he rambled on, completely lost in the comfort of being with you.

"Do you see this?" He gestured toward his body. "I'm a broken man."

Sam, watching this unfold, rolled his eyes so hard they almost got stuck. "You've gotta be kidding me."

And Dean ignored him completely.

"You're the only one who understands, sweetheart." He whined, clinging onto you like his life depended on it. "Sam's no help, he doesn't get it."

"Dean," you said, struggling to keep a straight face. "You were fine like five seconds ago."

"What are you talking about?" He squeezed you tighter, feigning innocence. "I was just holding it all in. I didn't want to scare Sammy. But now... now I can finally let it all out."

"Uh-huh," you said dryly. "And how much of this is just you wanting to get pampered?"

Dean gasped in mock offense, pulling back to look at you again. "Me? Using my genuine suffering to get pampered? I would never—"

You raised an eyebrow at him.

He hesitated for a second, then smirked. "Okay, maybe a little."

Sam snorted in the background, shaking his head as he headed for the door. "You two are ridiculous," he called over his shoulder before disappearing down the hall.

You sighed, shrugging your shoulders. "Well, what can I do to make it better, Dean?"

He was still leaning heavily into your embrace. "You. Me. Bed. Cuddles... for my emotional well-being, of course."

You smiled slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. "And all your troubles will disappear?"

"Exactly," Dean grumbled, sounding so serious you had to hold back a laugh. "Exactly." He sighed, content now, taking advantage of the situation for all it was worth.

"And if you throw in a back rub, I'll be a whole new man by morning." He added, his lips twitched into a smile.

"Alright, drama queen. But only because I know how hard it is to be you." you laughed softly.

"You're the only one who understands." Dean murmured, his voice filled with gratitude.

[writersdrug]

Bartender ghost’s reaction to waitress reader getting hit on by a customer or customers.

There's not nearly enough of these in my askbox send me mooooreeeeeee

He kinda hates it. He hates seeing her getting ogled at, hates seeing them scribble their numbers on the receipts, hates the way they make you run back and forth to grab them ketchup, mayo, more drinks, or to ask Soap for an extra side of fries - hates the way they try to chat you up, leaning back in their seats and saying anything that'll get you giggling and bright eyed - Simon knows it's all for their pleasure, having you at their beck and call for an hour or two, making you their personal little errand girl and watching you weave around tables and customers for their own enjoyment.

Simon isn't mad at you for wearing those shorts and skirts that have the patrons' eyes glued to your backside, or those low-cut, tight tops that hug you so nicely, making them stutter as they give you their order. He's mad at them, those sleazeballs who think they're worth your time or attention. You're his waitress, not their toy. His pretty little over-achiever.

And that's exactly why he tolerates it. He knows you're a grown adult, and he knows you're smart. You play their game, smiling sweetly and acting the tiniest bit coy and frazzled, nonetheless fulfilling every single one of their requests. Pretending to be apologetic about a burger not made to a customer's liking, then barking out orders to Soap once you're behind the kitchen door (don't worry, he barks back). You do it all for the fat tips, the double, sometimes triple digits on their receipts. He swallows the bitter taste of jealousy - well, he tries to. He's got his own patrons at the bartop to worry about.

You waltz over at the end of your shift and slap a receipt on the counter. "Some bloke left me a billion dollar tip." You say with a cheeky grin, cheeks flushed from hours of running between tables.

Ghost cocks an eyebrow, looking at the receipt. Sure enough, the idiot had left his mobile number in the tips section - technically, he left you four billion.

"That won't go through, 'n you know it." He says, looking over the edge of the receipt at you.

You purse your lips and tilt your chin down, looking up at him through your stupid, bloody, gorgeous eyes. "Twenty percent auto-grat, since that's technically not a tip? Pretty pleeeeease?"

He wants to say no, just to prove he's strong-willed against your flirtatious antics. He's an ex-SAS soldier. He's better than this. Your charm may fool those boys at his tables, but not him.

That is, until you carefully wrap your delicate hand around his wrist, using your other fingers to fold the receipt over his knuckles. "It'll be our little secret."

Thank god he has the counter to hide his raging hard on. He huffs and snatches the receipt from your fingers, turning to the POS.

"Fuckin' whatever." He says, punching in the tip. You squeal in delight and flit back to the restaurant floor to finish your tasks.

"Thanks Simon!" You chirp, and he grunts over his shoulder - discretely pressing his boner into counter.

You have to fan the heat from your face, remembering how his wrist felt in your hand.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Mornings With All Of You » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Husband/Dad!Bucky x Wife/Mom/Pregnant!Reader with kids Becca and James Jr

Summary: Bucky enjoys his morning with his wife and kids.

Warnings: Fluff, language, kissing, nicknames/pet names

A/N: Thank you @buckys-wintersoldier for brainstorming ideas with me🥰🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

“Mommy said to not wake up daddy.” Yours and Bucky’s 4 year old daughter, Becca says to her 2 year old brother James Jr.

“Dada.” James Jr says, pointing at the closed bedroom door.

Bucky just got home from a two week long mission and you’re letting him sleep in. You told the kids to let their daddy sleep, but they didn’t listen. They just want daddy’s attention and lovings.

Becca is the smart one. She gets that from you. She knows it’s bad to disobey what you tell her and her brother, but she’s a total daddy’s girl. If she wants to see her daddy, she’ll see her daddy.

She walked to the closed bedroom door and stood on her tippy toes to open it. She held onto the wall so she didn’t fall. She opened the door with ease and pushed it open. Becca turned to James Jr and put a finger against her lips, telling him to be quiet as they walked in the bedroom where their daddy is sleeping.

Bucky may have enhanced hearing, but surprisingly he didn’t hear the door open and his kids walk in the room. They somehow to manage to climb up the side of the bed to get on top of it. They crawled to him and snuggled themselves under the blanket and against Bucky’s sides.

They couldn’t hold their giggles in. Bucky’s eyes fluttered open when he heard his kids’ giggles. He looked on both sides of him, seeing them laying next to him.

“Good morning, daddy.” They say at the same time.

“Good morning, munchkins.” Bucky says happily.

Bucky sat up, leaning his back against the headboard of the bed.

“Where’s mommy?” He asks.

“Cooking and baking room.” Becca answers.

That’s what she calls the kitchen.

“Mommy make muffins.” Jame Jr tells him.

“What kind?” He asks.

“Chocolate chip blueberry!” Becca answers.

“Ooh, sounds good!” Bucky says.

Bucky got out of bed and carefully picked up his son and daughter in each arm, making them giggle uncontrollably. You put a tray of muffins on the kitchen counter and looked up when you heard the sound of giggles entering the kitchen. You smiled when you seen your husband and kids.

“I told them not to wake you up.” You say, kissing Bucky good morning.

“It’s fine, doll.” Bucky carefully placed them on the floor and they ran to the living room to watch cartoons. “I love it when they wake me up.” He says.

Bucky put his hands on your sides, rubbing them up and down. His hands slowly made their way to your 2 month pregnant belly, caressing it. He looked down at your belly with the look of love and adoration on his face.

“I can’t believe we have third one on the way.” He muses.

“You better believe it cause she’ll be here before we know it.” You mused with him, putting your hands on top of his.

“She?” Bucky playfully raised an eyebrow at you. “I think we’re going to have another boy.” He says.

“You just like to be right, don’t you, Sarge?” You giggled.

“I was right with James Jr.” He says with a proud smile.

You playfully rolled your eyes at your husband and kissed him. You wrapped your arms around his waist, wanting him to be close to you.

“Do you have to go to the compound today?” You asked.

“Nope.” Bucky answers. “Steve gave me the next couple of days off to spend with you and the kids.” He tells you.

“That’s good, because I missed you.” You put your chin on his chest, looking up at him. “I think the kids missed you more than me though.” You say.

“Our kids always find a way to out rank us.” He says.

You giggled softly. Bucky kissed your forehead, making you smile. As you two were pulling away from each other, the kids came running in the kitchen.

“Are the muffins done?” Becca asks, looking up at you.

“Yes.” You confirmed with a smile.

The kids cheered happily and excitedly, making you and Bucky smile down at the two little creations you two brought into this world. Bucky got the kids seated at the table in the dining room while you took breakfast in there. During breakfast, the kids told you and Bucky what they want to do today. Bucky listened to everything his son and daughter said with the look of adoration on his face.

After breakfast, you cleaned up while Bucky cleaned the kids up. They’re messy eaters. He got them dressed and then got himself dressed. He walked back in the kitchen at the same time you were finishing up with washing the dishes. He walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and put his hands on your belly. You smiled and leaned into his touch.

“Do you know how much I love you?” Bucky asks softly, leaning his chin on your shoulder.

“You tell me about a billion times a day.” You say with a smile.

Bucky carefully spun you around so you were facing him. His hands were now on your waist, pulling you against his body.

“Let me tell you a billion times more.” He murmurs softly.

You wrapped your arms around his neck when he kissed you softly and sweetly. You two couldn’t help but smile against each other’s lips.

“Hey!” You and Bucky heard a small high pitched voice, already knowing it’s Becca.

You and Bucky laughed lightly and pulled away to see what she needed.

“That’s how you get cooties!” Becca exclaims.

“Me and daddy can’t get cooties, because we’re married.” You explained to your daughter. “Plus, daddy is a Super Soldier so it won’t affect him at all.” You tell her.

Becca stared at you like you just said the most interesting thing in the world. You walked past her and playfully ruffled her hair and went to the bedroom to get dressed. Becca didn’t miss the way Bucky was looking at you as you were walking away. He had the look of love and adoration on his face. She was curious to know why he was looking at you like that.

“Daddy?” Becca taps on Bucky’s leg to get his attention.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Bucky asks, picking her up and walked to the living room to sit down on the couch.

“Why do you look at mommy like that?” She asks curiously.

“Mommy is my wife and the love of my life. I love her with all of my heart. She makes me so happy.” He explains. “You and your brother make happy and I love you two as well.” He says, kissing her forehead.

“What about the baby in mommy’s belly?” She asks.

“I love the baby in mommy’s belly too. He or she is going to make me happy too.” He says happily.

You walked in the living room with James Jr in your arms and sat down on the couch next to Bucky and Becca.

“Daddy love you!” Becca blurts out.

“Oh, he does, does he?” You say.

“He said you’re his wife.” She says.

“He’s right. I am his wife.” You smile widely. “And I wouldn’t change it for the world.” You say, kissing Bucky’s cheek.

Becca and James Jr carefully slid off of yours and Bucky’s lap to play with their toys on the floor while cartoons played on the TV. You slid closer to Bucky, snuggling yourself against his side. Bucky wrapped his arm around you, gently rubbing your belly with his hand.

“I love mornings with all of you.” Bucky says softly and happily.

“Me too.” You say softly, leaning up to kiss him sweetly.

James Jr threw a stuffed animal at you and Bucky when he seen you two kissing.

“Yucky!” James Jr shouts loudly, making you and Bucky laugh.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[buck-star]

bucky eating you out while steve eats your ass! that lil shit is such a closeted freak. bucky is too, just not as closeted LOL

loves to tease steve about how much he likes eating your ass until one day he’s like “keep talking shit” and eats bucky’s ass and bucky is just on cloud 9 😛

Better than thought

Bucky loves to tease Steve about his way to pleasure you, even though it’s better than he thought.

Pairing: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Reader

Wordcount: 3.890 Words

Warnings/Tags: established relationship, petnames [bay doll, princess, King grumpy, Majesty Sunshine], possessive, grumpy, poly relationship, smut [oral (fem!/male!rec), oral pussy/ass, fingering, handjob, squirting, cum, humping, praises]

Authors Note: Thanks for the request. Waking up and reading such a filthy thing is… needs a day filled with writing because this thought didn’t want to leave my mind, so here. Divider made by me.

Events: Stucky Bingo [SB6010 | B3 | Writing Format: Second Person | @stuckybingo], Sweet Spicy Bingo: Beginnings Bingo [Row Three-Three | First Orgasm | @sweetspicybingo]

Masterlist | Stucky Masterlist

The sun is painting your bedroom in a beautiful yellow-orange when the sun goes up. You're snuggled with your face into Bucky's chest, while Steve has his strong arms wrapped around your waist to keep your back pressed against his chest.

Bucky turns slowly; after a while, the sun on his face is too bright to keep sleeping, plus both of your two super soldiers love to stay up earlier. Or wake up early to watch you sleeping like creeps - or puppies in love. You're not sure which fits better, because they are cute, but it's also weird and funny to know that they watch you while you're sleeping.

"Mornin'," Steve grumbles, pulling you even closer against his chest. Bucky chuckles, a low rumble leaves his chest, and he turns on his side to place an arm over your waist, his fingertips tracing Steve's stomach slightly. "Gonna come run and go to the gym with me?"

Bucky shakes his head, bringing his face to your shoulder and hiding it. He can be such a grumpy face in the morning, and it can be pretty funny when he's all grumpy and doesn't talk. Bucky's mostly growling, but even though you don't get many words out of the man in the mornings, you and Steve love it.

"So, you want to be grumpy and pull her into your grumpiness with you?" Steve jokes and Bucky growls once again. This time it's muffled with his face buried in the crook of your neck. Steve can't help the low chuckles slipping past his lips. He's bringing his hand to Bucky's head, stroking a few of his strands behind his hair. "Sleepy head and grumpy face working together, huh?"

"Mhm," Bucky hums, his tone sounding more happy this time. Steve keeps stroking his fingers along Bucky's cheekbone a while longer, his ocean blue eyes lingering on the both of you.

"You know, your lovely muscles - the ones you adore so much, especially when you can make them bulge in front of her—they need some training too," Steve keeps teasing the brunette. Bucky ignores him, pressing his face further into your neck, inhaling your sweet scent.

"Loves them anyway," Bucky mumbles, and Steve's eyes widen. He barely gets a word out of his boyfriend's mouth when he just woke up. Steve chuckles, nodding; he pulls his hand slowly away and turns around to get out of the bed. "'N you too, majesty sunshine."

"Really, King grumpy?" Steve laughs at the nickname. Both of them got these nicknames after you noticed their different ways of behavior after waking up. Steve is - no matter how bad or cold the weather is - a sunshine. And Bucky is - no matter how sunny or warm it is - a grumpy face in the mornings. So, you called them by that name, and somehow they love it so much to tease one another that they keep the nicknames.

Steve gets out of the bed, chuckling still. Bucky pulls you even closer, tangling your legs with his while he sighs softly in your neck. His grip around your waist tightens, and he kisses the soft skin of your neck.

"Mine... all mine," he grumbles. Steve dresses himself, a soft smile spread on his lips. A few minutes later he leaves the room, ready for his run and his training afterwards. Both of them know that you sleep at least one or two hours more, but Bucky refuses to leave the bed and get cold himself or get the bed cold so you would freeze.

Bucky keeps mumbling something between praises and possessive words. When you slowly wake up after a while, he pulls you even closer, nuzzling your cheek. You're practically pressed into him, arms and legs tangled together, and you giggle softly when you feel his stubble against your soft skin.

"Possessive baby?" You mumble, and Bucky nods, agreeing to your question. He is always possessive when it comes to you or Steve. And he's gladly your baby when you want it, when it makes you giggle even more. "Big baby, aren't you? Did you throw Stevie out of the bed?"

Bucky nods, smirking slightly. "Mhm, he's sleeping on the ground now," he grumbles, earning another giggle from you. "You should giggle more often; it's cute."

"It makes the grumpy's heart melt?" You tease, and Bucky grumbles but nods once more. Of course, your giggles make everyone's heart melt, just like Steve's and Bucky's wouldn't dare to deny that because he knows it's true. No matter how grumpy he is, you're always making him happy.

"Mhm, yeah. Now, come closer," he grumbles, and you raise one of your eyebrows. Bucky chuckles low in his throat, turning the two of you until he's on top of you. "Yeah, we can be closer; don't try to tell me we can't. I can lie on top of you, and then you have me on top, on your left and on your right."

You laugh as best as you can with his weight on top of you. But he's right, his arms caging you in on both sides, and he's on top of you. Bucky hums happily, leaning his head down on your shoulder, kissing the soft skin softly.

"My baby doll. All mine," he mumbles against you. "Say it, baby doll, pleaseeeeee?"

You sigh and nod. "I'm all yours, grumpy baby."

Bucky lifts his head, grinning at you. After a moment you narrow your eyes. Your boyfriend usually eats breakfast before you get up, but today he's still in bed, cuddled up with you.

"Aren't you hungry?" You ask, a bit confused. Bucky shakes his head a bit before his grin widens and his eyes darken slightly. "But you haven-" You gasp when he pulls the blanket away and slides down, hovering with his head over your lower stomach. "Do we have a 'King grumpy is possessive' day?"

"Mhm, mine. Gonna have my breakfast now; let Stevie hear what he misses when he makes his workout instead of cuddling and eating with us," Bucky mumbles. His hands snake down your sides, curling around the waistband of your panties to pull them down. With a low growl, he decides to rip them off your body, too impatient and too lazy to move.

"Bucky!" You whine when you see the scattered fabric of your panties. Bucky grins, pushing your legs wider apart before he lowers his head and inhales deeply. A moan escapes your lips, his breath warm and teasing at your wet folds.

"Mhm, so pretty, all wet and ready for me, baby doll," he whispers, kissing your folds. His tongue licks a fat strap from your leaking entrance to your clit, circling the bundle of nerves a bit.

You moan, arching your back. Your hands gripping the sheets tightly while Bucky uses his talented tongue to get more of these sweet noises out of you. His hands rubbing up and down your thighs, steadying you a bit when he delivers such pleasure. Your hips rolling against his face, and Bucky chuckles when he keeps kissing your clit.

Bucky teases you when he pulls his head back slightly. Your hands shooting into his hair, gripping his brown strands tightly to pull him closer to your pussy.

A low hum escapes your boyfriend's lips when he dives his tongue through your wet folds once more. His strong hands gripping your thighs tightly to keep them spread wide. "Tasting so good, baby doll."

Your back arches, and you grip his hair tightly, trying to bring his skilled mouth even closer - if that's even possible. Bucky groans, kissing your clit when you tug at his hair. His eyes finding yours, his mouth never leaving your most sensitive parts.

"Need me to take a break, baby doll?" He asks, his voice rough. Bucky's usual blue eyes darkened, lust written all over his features. His plump lips finding their way to your clit, kissing and sucking softly at the soft bundle of nerves.

"N-No, please," you whine, arching your back. Your legs are trembling, and Bucky grins before he buries his face between your thighs once again. Whines and moans leave your lips, your head thrown back into the pillow while you pull Bucky even closer against your throbbing cunt.

"Can't get enough of me eating you out, can you, baby doll?" Bucky whispers, blowing a bit of cool air against your neglected entrance. You whimper, thrusting your hips against him to get more friction.

"She can't get enough of me eating her ass either," another rough voice comes from the door of the room. You turn your head; your eyes widen when you see your other boyfriend standing in the doorframe. His short hair is perfectly styled, and you really want to run your fingers through it to ruin the perfection.

Your eyes move lower over his chest and abs, still glistening in sweat from his workout. He's completely undressed, like always after his workouts; Steve always puts his sweaty clothes in the wash. You wonder why his hair is so perfect, maybe because of all the sweat. However, it's perfect, and the light of the room makes his body glistening softly. Saliva almost drools out of the corner of your mouth when your eyes settle on his hard cock.

Steve is shamelessly stroking the thick length in his calloused hand. He grins at you, noticing where you're looking at. His tip is leaking pre-cum, and you lick your lips instinctively. "That's what you need? My cock down your throat while Bucky eats your pussy? Or do you prefer getting your ass eaten out?

A whine creeps up your throat when Steve laughs, his eyes settling on Bucky, who still eats you like you're the most delicious thing he has ever tasted. He hums, playing with your clit until you almost scream from the pleasure that's rushing through your body. Though, it's still not quiet enough to throw you over the edge.

"Say please," Steve commands. The moment you try to open your mouth to ask him nicely to give you his cock, Bucky thrusts two of his thick fingers into you. You moan loudly, your body tenses, and your legs tremble around your boyfriend while you come.

Bucky smirks, thrusting his fingers against your spongy spot, causing you to squirt over his hand. "There she is, such a good girl, baby doll. Now let's see if Stevie can make you cum better eating your ass than I did, huh?"

Steve chuckles, shaking his head but walking closer to your - accepting Bucky's challenge. Since the brunette is always making jokes and teasing Steve about his obsession with your ass, he now has the perfect chance to show Bucky that he can make you come just as hard as Bucky when he plays with your cunt. Bucky kisses your thighs a few times, causing you to whimper while you slowly come down from your orgasm.

Both of your boyfriends change places. Steve grabs your hips, turning you around. Your arms and legs feel too weak to hold you up, so you let yourself fall flat down on your belly. Both men start laughing, admiring your sweet, fucked-out form.

"Princess, I need you on your hands and knees," Steve mumbles softly, letting one of his hands run up and down your back when his other grabs your hips to help you get up slightly. You growl, as much as you want this, as much as you want to take a break before he brings you to another orgasm.

The three of you know that you can take more than one orgasm, but you also know that Steve is just as skilled as Bucky, even when he eats your ass instead of your pussy.

"Good girl," Steve praises when you bring your knees underneath you and lift your ass into the air. Your face still pressed into the pillow underneath, and you sigh softly when he kisses from your neck down to your ass. "Mhm, good girl, such a good girl for us."

Steve kneels down on the ground behind you, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed. His hands move to your ass, squeezing and rubbing your cheeks softly. Bucky undresses himself, his ocean blue eyes on you, a wide grin on his face.

"Yeah, let's see if our ass obsession is making you cum better than I can, shall we?" Bucky chuckles, walking around the bed to kneel down on it and crawl close to you. Steve shakes his head, raising an eyebrow before he leans closer to kiss the soft flesh of your ass cheeks.

You moan, looking up at Bucky, who grips you underneath your arms to pull you up. You pout, placing your hands underneath you to hold you up. Bucky's crotch is the same height as your face, the tip of his dick red and leaking.

He wraps his hand around his thick shaft, bringing the tip to your lips. Bucky sneaks his pre-cum all over your lips, letting you lick it away before he slowly pushes in. You immediately swirl your tongue around his cock, taking him slowly down your throat. Bucky groans, throwing his head back while he thrusts in and out of you. One of his hands is tangled in your hair to keep you in place while he rubs the other over your neck and shoulders. Something he always does when both of your men use your hole for your and their own pleasure.

Meanwhile, Steve keeps kissing you, helping you to relax a bit more after the first orgasm you had. "Ready to get your ass eaten like never before, princess?"

You moan around Bucky's thick shaft. Steve often made you come like that before, but somehow his voice has that mischievousness and holding a promise that he will make you come like he has never done before. You wiggle your ass, humming low in your throat.

Steve chuckles, his tongue licking a fat strap from your cunt to your puckered hole. Your back immediately arches, and you whine around Bucky's dick. His rips rutting against your face, his balls coated in your saliva and smearing it all over your chin.

"Mhm," Steve groans, trying to push his tongue inside of you. His hands spread out your ass cheeks, and he kept pressing against your tightest hole. He slowly breaks through the muscles, grinning against your skin when he works the tip of his tongue in and out of you.

One of his big hands snakes around your waist to your clit. You shriek, trying to crawl away from the pleasure he delivers. But Bucky and Steve hold you in place, Bucky's cock down your throat and his hands on your shoulders, while Steve keeps one on your waist and one still playing with your clit.

"S-Stevie..." you whine, arching your back. He chuckles, two of his fingers thrust into your cunt. You almost scream around Bucky's cock; they both know you too well to give you a chance to control your body or orgasm.

Your legs give out, and you almost fall forward into the pillow, but your men's strength keeps you in position. Your cum is squirting out of you, your body shaking, and tears roll down your cheeks from the pleasure. Steve doesn't let go of you until your orgasm has faded, and you pull off Bucky's cock to roll on your back.

You're breathing heavily, and you whimper slightly when Steve gets closer, kissing you softly. He lets you taste yourself, growling into your mouth before he pulls away softly. "Good girl, you did so good for us. Now, who made you come better?"

With a roll of your eyes and a chuckle, you point at both of your boyfriends. While Steve looks satisfied with your answer that him eating your ass is as good as Bucky eating your pussy, your brunette boyfriend frowns.

"You can't really mean that eating ass makes you feel so good, can you?" Bucky asks, tilting his head slightly. Steve laughs, pushing up; he holds his hand out for Bucky to take, and he does. With narrowed eyes and slight uncertainty on his face, he lets Steve guide him to where you were kneeling on the bed for them.

"Let's find out, shall we?" Steve pushes Bucky with his chest first on the bed. Bucky's legs are still on the ground, while his ass is directed to Steve. "Princess, do me the favor and sit down on Bucky's back; he needs something to strap him down, or else our big boy squirms too much."

Bucky growls, trying to push up, but with a still fucked-out expression and a smirk on your lips, you crawl closer and sit down on Bucky's back. Your wetness rubbing over his back, and he moans at the feeling of your cum all over his skin.

"Fuck, Stevie, she's so wet," Bucky groans. Steve chuckles low in his throat, kneeling down again before he kisses Bucky's ass cheeks, his tongue licking over his puckered hole, and Bucky immediately hisses. He grips the sheets underneath him tightly, cursing under his breath.

"Feels good, huh?" Steve laughs, probing at Bucky's hole. The blond man growls when he feels the tightness of his boyfriend. "Your ass is even tighter than hers."

Bucky rolls his eyes, earning a slap on his ass. Steve doesn't even have to look at Bucky to know what he just did. He brings one of his hands to the brunette cock, stroking it slowly while he keeps probing at the tight ring of muscles.

After a moment he finally breaks through the tightness. His fingers tighten around the other man's cock, while you start humping on Bucky's back, making him whine and squirm slightly. "Fuck, Stevie, please."

Steve grins against Bucky's skin, keeping his pace slow but tightening the grip around Bucky's cock with every stroke a bit more. After a moment he lifts his head, peppering soft kisses over the soft skin of Bucky's ass.

"Look at our girl, getting off while you get your ass eaten, Buck," Steve laughs. He lowers his head again, pushing his tongue inside of Bucky once more. Steve speeds up, making Bucky whine even more. His grip on the sheets almost rips them apart while he tries to arch his back with you still on top of him.

"Fuckkkk, please, Steve, fuck, fuck." Bucky moans, feeling the coil in his stomach tighten further. Steve laughs, speeding the movements of his hand around Bucky's cock up, loving that he's right - ass eating is giving a lot more pleasure than Bucky wanted to believe or admit.

"Mhm, Stevie, making him," you hum, bringing your fingers to your clit to rub it in harsh circles. You're determined to come with Bucky, and from the noises he makes, you know he's close, needing just a few more strokes before his orgasm crashes over him.

"You should see our girl, Buck. Touching herself, wanting to come so bad with you. She's not as fucked out as we thought after two orgasms," Steve says, between licks over Bucky's puckered hole. Bucky's hole clenches, his whole body tensing when the coil in his stomach snaps and his cum coats Steve's hand and the floor.

Steve slows down, watching you while you come once again. Bucky and you are panting, sweat coating both of your bodies while you both ride out your orgasms. The blond leans down once again to Bucky's puckered hole, pushing his tongue inside of him again to force more of the white liquid out of the brunette.

"Fuck... this-" Bucky groans, around, keeping you on top of him. You're not sure how he managed, but you don't really care. Bucky pulls you down on his chest, kissing you softly. "Get why you love your ass eaten so much. Got off while Steve made me cum, naughty girl."

You giggle, ready to snuggle into your boyfriend's, but Bucky lays you down next to him, his lips lingering on your forehead for a moment longer before he looks at Steve.

"Let's find out how fast we can make you cum," Bucky mutters with a grin. Steve shakes his head, lifting his hands, knowing what Bucky's tactic is to make him cum as fast as possible while still giving him all the pleasure he wants.

Bucky gets off the bed, his legs still wobbly, but he reaches out to pull Steve closer, going down on his knees in front of him. Bucky leans his head back, smirking, his blue eyes locked with Steve's.

"I want you to take what you need, Steve," he growls low in his throat, bringing one of his hands to the other man's cock. Steve moans, throwing his head back. His hands find their way into Bucky's brown locks, pulling him closer to his cock.

Instead of taking Steve's cock in his mouth, he lowers himself further, licking and sucking softly at the blond's balls. Steve whimpers, a sound he only makes when one of you plays with his balls - something you discovered by accident when you wanted to tease him, just to find out he loves when you play with them.

"There you go, Steve," Bucky chuckles, taking them slowly into his mouth. You watch your boyfriend, smirking at the pleasurable expression on Steve's face. Bucky keeps stroking the other man's cock, slowly, to keep the focus of Steve on Bucky's mouth around his balls.

"B-Buck..." Steve moans, his hips rutting and his cock twitching already. More pre-cum leaks down his tip, and Bucky grins. He keeps looking up, his eyes on Steve's face. When the blond-haired man looks down, he comes. The sight of Bucky - on his knees, mouth full of Steve's balls, while he strokes the thick shaft of the other man - is too much for Steve to hold back his orgasm. The cum shooting onto Bucky's face and in his brown locks.

"Mhm," Bucky hums, leaning back and licking the tip of Steve's cock clean. A whimper leaves the other man's lips, his cock feeling too sensitive. Bucky uses his fingers to clean his face a bit, sucking the cum off his fingers. "Tasting good, Stevie."

"This shouldn't be so hot; it makes me wet again," you pout. Bucky turns toward you, a grin playing around his lips.

"It doesn't need me to suck Steve's balls to make you wet after you came three times where you squirted two times for us," Bucky laughs, earning a growl from you. "But yes, let's help you with your wetness; your poor puss is all neglected."

"Bucky!" You laugh, getting off the bed to walk into the bathroom. Steve and Bucky's gazes follow you. Steve's still panting but slowly calming down, his body still glistening with sweat.

"Those orgasms are better than any workouts," he mutters, chuckling softly. Bucky gets up, pulling Steve into a soft kiss, before they both follow you into the bathroom. "She's not planning to take a shower without us, is she?"

Bucky shakes his head, grinning widely. "She wouldn't dare to take a shower without us, unless she's in need of a good spanking with a few more orgasms afterward." Steve chuckles, nodding before they both follow you into the bathroom to take a shower with you.

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