#he's the Boy of all time if you ask me.... perfect... he's perfect
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manikas-whims · 1 day ago
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LADS Men & the type of cats they are
in honor of the new quad banner ♡
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RAFAYEL (Nyafayel)
�� picky eater, will not eat dry food and will make a yucky face at canned food, wants you to cook proper meals everyday, and wants you to diversify the meals
🐾 will knock over every article from your work desk, bedside table, kitchen counter, etc. while looking right into your eyes with his most defiant and naughty “try me” expression 😌
🐾 usually chill but will want all your attention in the presence of others; be it cats or humans..clingy af at night..will howl outside your room’s door until you let him in and let him sleep with you in bed..
🐾 also the type to wail when you leave him alone at home to go to work, and immediately smothers you with licks and rubs the moment you come back
🐾 hisses at water, will accidentally scratch you when you try to give him a bath..yet at the same time, enjoys being pampered..he's the type who sees you doing makeup & wants you to put it on him as well 🎀
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XAVIER (Catvier)
🐾 a lazy cat (cats do sleep around 16~18 hours)..one of those who fall into a deep slumber and you're just left shaking and calling him, concerned..and then he just lazily yawns and looks at you with the most innocent, confused gaze 🥺
🐾 slow blinks at you at random moments to express how much he loves you..also rubs his head against your legs and purrs, wraps tail around your leg,..kinda territorial, hisses if you smell like someone else..
🐾 loves food, is kind of a glutton..you need to stop feeding him..just because he meows sadly at you every hour doesn't mean he's hungry
🐾 does those weird cat things like sleep in awful postures, might stand on two feet and stare at you n do other weird shit lol
🐾 hates being toyed with but will immediately jump at the laser pointer lol..really sharp at spotting house lizards and mouse..will immediately catch them (topple alot of stuff in the process) and bring them to you as gifts
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ZAYNE
🐾 is a gentleman and doesn't disturb you..sits nearby while you work so he can easily climb into your lap and offer comfort if you start feeling stressed or tired
🐾 not very vocal but there are days when he really wants affection, and on those days, he silently approaches you, headbutts you and meows softly, patiently waiting for you to pet him 🥺
🐾 not a talkative kitty but responds to everything you say..you call his name and he'll meow with affection, you ask if he's hungry and replies with a soft yet prolonged meow, you ask if wants to play and he meows cheerfully
🐾 very well-behaved, loves self-grooming but also never bothers you when it comes to bathing and grooming..sits like a good boy even when you're trimming his nails
🐾 does the most perfect loaf, may climb onto your belly when you're lying down and loaf onto your belly lol..is a baker kitty and will start kneading when he's feeling extra affectionate
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SYLUS
🐾 an outdoor kitty, sometimes disappears for a day or two and just when you start feeling a little concerned, he’s tiptoeing back in through the flap in your door..may be covered in dirt or even small nicks and cuts from fights he picks with the strays
🐾 makes you chase him around the house the moment he realises you're going to give him a bath..but the moment he's put in the tub, he's actually enjoying it..might cozy up there for far longer than necessary
🐾 very confident..do not yell at him for anything because he will growl and snarl back..doesn't like it when you scold him..also the type to catch mice n other small animals but he likes toying with them for fun 😭
🐾 there are days when you come across him meowing along to some tune..he's a talented singer, also likes to sing his meows when you're preparing his meal
🐾 will not let you pet him much..like he'll let you stroke his fur for a while and then suddenly when he gets overwhelmed by it, he will bite your hand lol (my cat does this sometimes 😭) actually likes play-biting
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i couldn't think up any good kitty names for Zayne and Sylus, so if y'all got any, please drop them in replies 🙏 n i’ll add them
» MASTERLIST «
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connorsui · 23 hours ago
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“I trust you…I promise you that I trust you, and nothing will come in the way of that…but you can’t tell me this isn’t ridiculous, right?”
You stand in the middle of your snowy driveway, gazing with a mix of exasperation and amusement at Johnny and your twin sons as they create a battlefield out of the morning’s snowfall-- Instead of the simple snowmen you might have imagined, the boys are busy crafting a fortress, with underground paths, tall mounds as shields, and small stockpiles of snowballs for their so called ... “ammunition.”
You’d pictured the morning so differently: hot chocolate by the fire, maybe a bit of decorating? or Johnny sharing tame, kid-friendly stories from his time in the service—with the casual violence out of the way. But instead, here you are, cup of coffee warming one hand, the other resting on your hip as you watch Johnny instruct the boys in how to "properly" make a shield.
“Ohh, c’mon, lovie,” Johnny calls out, dusting the snow from his gloves with a playful shake of his head, “Let the lads enjoy themselves a bit, eh?” He straightens up, strides over to you, and presses a kiss to your cheek. The cold on his lips contrasts sharply with the warmth of his smile, and you feel yourself smiling back, twirling your coffee idly in the mug.
Johnny steps behind you, wrapping his arms securely around your waist, resting his chin atop your head. “I meant it when I said I wanted to spend every second with the boys,” he murmurs softly. “Been too long without ‘em, you know?”
“Oh, I know you said that,” you chuckle, a warm puff of air slipping into the crisp winter morning. “Don’t think I forgot so quickly... But taking on our boys in an early morning little war wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when you promised ‘quality time,’ Johnny.”
He laughs, his deep chuckle vibrating against you. But before he can reply, one of the twins rushes over, his cheeks flushed with excitement, snowflakes clinging to his coat.
“Mum! Mummy! Look! We did it!” He points eagerly to their snow fortress, an impressive structure for something built by two kids and their overly enthusiastic dad.
The other twin, standing guard behind a snowy barricade, grins mischievously before launching a snowball toward his brother. It narrowly misses, skimming past you, and you instinctively step back, laughing as you bump into Johnny’s chest.
“Oi! Careful with yer aim,” Johnny calls out, unable to hide the pride in his voice. He lets you go and grins at the boys. “Ye want to join me inside for a while, love?” he asks, lowering his voice, a playful warmth in his tone. “I’ll make you somethin’ nice, your favorite.”
“Hmmm,” you hum in mock consideration, pretending to think it over. Finally, you give a quick nod, and the two of you make your way back to the kitchen, where you begin preparing a warm breakfast for the boys. The house feels cozy, the warmth from the stove and the sound of laughter just outside filling it with a sense of peace that feels almost too perfect to be real.
As you look out the kitchen window, you see the twins giggling, a flurry of snowballs passing between them. One boy dives behind a mound, trying to evade the other’s shot, only to trip and collapse in a heap of laughter and snow. You watch, smiling to yourself, feeling that rare, unfiltered happiness that fills every corner of your heart.
“What’re ye thinkin’, hmm?” Johnny asks, catching the look on your face as he leans against the counter, his gaze soft.
You blink, as if just waking from a daydream. “What? Nothing… Just happy, is all.”
Johnny raises an eyebrow, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Sure about that?”
“What makes you think I’m not?”
“Oh, nothin’,” he teases, feigning innocence. “Just wonderin’.”
You lean back against the counter, eyes drifting again to the scene outside. “This is everything I could’ve ever wanted with you, Johnny. I remember imagining this life with you back then, maybe one little one in tow… but now, with two boys, and you… it almost feels ...dream-like,... you know?”
He slides closer to you, his hand resting over yours. “No, darlin’. I don’t know,” he says softly, his eyes meeting yours with that familiar, grounded warmth. “Because this here? It’s all real. Me, the house, our boys… us.” He gestures around as if to make his point clear. “This is it. All of it’s real.”
A smile spreads across your face as you meet his gaze, unable to hold back. Leaning up, you place a soft kiss on his lips, savoring the moment, the crisp air still lingering on his skin.
“And ye know what else could be real right about now?” he murmurs, a glint of mischief in his eye.
“Oh, and what would that be?”
“Leaving the kids with yer mum while we take apart that new lovely present you left out for me.”
You gasp, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “Johnny! Don’t tell me you’ve already seen it?”
He smirks, tapping the side of his head. “Oh, don’t think I didn’t spot it, all prettily wrapped with a bow.”
Lowering your voice, you whisper, “That was for later!”
“How much later?” he teases, a mischievous sparkle in his eye that sends your pulse racing.
You glance away, hiding a grin, cheeks warm as you try to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.
Johnny lets out a laugh, his deep voice filling the cozy kitchen. But before you can respond, the boys come bounding in, their noses red from the cold, eyes wide with excitement.
“Mum! Mum! Can you make our favorite breakfast?” they ask in unison, looking up at you with hopeful smiles.
You sigh playfully, shaking off the blush that had crept up your neck, and nod. “Alright, alright. I’ll call you back when it’s ready!”
With twin shouts of “mmkay!” they scamper back outside, their laughter echoing through the yard as they dive back into their snowball war.
Johnny watches you, a familiar, mischievous smile still on his face. “Well?”
You tilt your head, chuckling, “I'll call her.."
A laugh escapes him, and he pulls you close, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. As you continue with breakfast, he stays by your side, keeping an eye on the boys through the window. You realize that this—Johnny beside you, the kids laughing outside, the warmth of your home wrapping around you—is the happiest you’ve ever felt.
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gay-dorito-dust · 11 hours ago
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hopefully tumblr doesnt eat this up again 😭
i was wondering how the batfam would reacted to getting caught watching edits of celebrity!reader
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I’m just going to put them in a relationship with Celeb! reader just to make things easier for myself.
Dick doesn’t give a fuck if he’s caught watching edits of you! You’re his spouse of course he’s going to save each and every edit there was of you because it’s be a crime if he didn’t.
He’ll even show you the ones where he thinks you’re the hottest in shamelessly with a smile. He honestly can’t get enough of the edits that his FYP is filled with them and snippets of interviews that transition to the edits as well.
Dick has no shame in being caught because why would he? You deserve to have a thousand of edits in your name and Dick has one too many edits saved in his phone, so much so that your surprised his phone still somehow has storage for the next wave of edits that he’ll be saving should he deem them worthy.
‘Babe come look at this edit of you! You look hot!’ Is the most often used when Dick is showing off an edit of yourself to you in hopes of getting your opinions on it. You don’t mind people making edits, especially didn’t mind them now when Dick would shout ‘my spouse is fucking gorgeous! God damn’ out of seemingly nowhere.
You’re not even surprised when his Lock Screen is a live wallpaper of the edit itself, dick really didn’t have any problems showing you off in any capacity at all.
Jason is either calm with being caught or he’s wanting to strangle Roy because who else is going to rat him out to you about watching edits of you other than him?
‘Chipmunk I can explain-‘ Jason would start.
‘There’s no need, I know you watch edits of me sweetheart there’s nothing to be ashamed of at all.’ You tell him as you cuddle up to his chest. ‘It’s complete fine I’m not going to shame you in watching them, I think it’s flattering that you do.’ You add and Jason couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as he held onto you, kissing your forehead.
‘It’s not my fault you’re perfect and the edits happen to capture that beauty sweetheart.’ Jason replied and you couldn’t help but chuckle as you looked at him sweetly, not knowing how much more you could possibly love this beautiful man as much as you could, especially when his cheeks flush with a red colour while he scratched his nose sheepishly.
You didn’t mind that he was watching edits and while he was glad about that he was more than certain to watch them elsewhere, more specifically away from Roy before he can rat on him…again.
Tim is terrified the moment you catch him watching edits of you, so much so that he completely forgot to pause the edit as you stare at each other, accompanied by music playing in the background.
It’s hilarious to you but embarrassing to poor Tim who believes that you’d see him as a weirdo for watching them, but all you do is laugh and kiss the side of his head before fiddling his hair affectionately. ‘Watching edits of me are you? And here I thought you couldn’t get more adorable Timmy.’ You tease as you kiss his cheek.
‘You’re not weirded out?’ He’d ask, holding his phone to his shirt, not wanting you to know that he was more or less the one making them rather than watching them. He’s literally got several usb drives worth of edit material to make, no joke.
‘Nope just flattered.’ You replied before leaving Tim be before he passes out from embarrassment. Little did you know he’s making about ten more edits as we speak, all of which have to be perfect and he’ll watch them ten times over if he must, for no specific reason at all.
Bruce is just admiring his beautiful/ handsome spouse. That is all.
Alfred would’ve most likely told you that he’s been watching edits of you when you’re away. It’s adorable and you couldn’t help but smile at how your handsome boy has an hidden file on the bar computer dedicated to your edits. (Dick and Tim found it by pure accident and dick couldn’t hope but tell you about it.)
Needless to say you won’t see him watch the edits but you’ll hear from everyone else that he watches them and that about the closest you’ll get to catching him in the act of watching edits honestly. However don’t be surprised when you see a video from Stephanie of her filing Bruce somewhere as he watched the edits of you on the big screen of the bat computer, his eyes filled with pride and awe of his pretty/ charming spouse looking so effortlessly ethereal.
While you might not have caught him in the act yourself, you still found yourself smiling at Bruce smiling up at the edits of you -and sometimes him because you’re a power couple- as a warmth encased your whole being, buts that’s more than enough for you as it can act as your own little secret.
Damian is good at keeping his little secret safe, so you seeing him watch edits of you were slim to none, and even if you did you catch him in the act you would have to have been blessed by Lady Luck herself.
He’s a little embarrassed that you caught him in the act, mainly because he thought he was better than this to let his guard down to be caught in an act like this, then he’ll become irritated at the fact that you had came into his own room just to catch him watching edits of you.
‘You’re watching edits of me.’ You said.
‘And? Did you seriously come into my room to tell me that? What happened to respecting my privacy?’ He retorts, arms cross over his chest. He didn’t care that you caught him, he’s just more or less annoyed with his privacy being violated.
‘Sorry my sweet I should’ve knocked, but you haven’t answered my question.’ You apologised with a little hug and a kiss to his forehead and Damian found himself forgiving you in an instant as he brought you back into a short lived hug, hiding his flustered face in the depths of your neck, tightening his grip on you.
‘Tim hacked my phone.’ He says in response and you just let it slide, knowing that he’ll admit to it sooner or later and not when he’s being cornered into talking. You knew he watched the edits because he’s totally infatuated with his spouse and Damian knew it too, but wouldn’t dare tell you until this moment has passed you both by.
So until then he’ll watch the edits in secret because he can’t get enough of how gorgeous you looked in them.
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gh0stsp1d3r · 1 day ago
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Maybanks sister
part 4, chapter 1- let’s do this shit!
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summary: after el dorado, your lives are finally getting back to normal. However, someone’s still missing from your life. After a long week, a run in with that someone is the last thing you needed.
a/n: ahhh! Finally some rafe and reader moments lol. they’re a bit in a pining but not talking stage right now. They’re gonna get to talk soon, don’t worry.
SERIES MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER
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“-98.5%… gold.”
“And that translates to?”
“This is money. A whole lot of money.”
With a smile on his face and everyone else cheering, John B leaned over the table to shake the man’s hand.
You guys went straight to the gas station, with the nearest atm machine being inside.
“Moment of truth.” John B murmured, all of you crowding around the atm.
“Pin is 0-0-0-0… enter.” John B said, entering his pin into the machine.
“You’re kidding.” Sarah had to suppress a laugh.
“Tell me that’s a temporary pin.” You snorted, John B turning to look at you now.
“I thought nobody could guess-“
���You need to change that immediately, dude.” You told him with a loud laugh.
“I’m sorry-“ he turned his head back to the machine when it started to make noise, signaling it was ready.
“Here it comes.”
As soon as the paper came out, JJ reached for it before him and John B fought over it. “That’s me, that’s me,” he said, “let me read it!”
“It’s not even the money, it’s just the receipt!”
You rolled your eyes at the boys, John B winning in the end, opening and pulling it open.
“Okay, okay,” John B said, reading it. “Our joint account balance…”
“Mhm..”
He took a pause, before Cleo told him to get on with it, everyone impatient.
“Our joint account balance is… one point one million… seventy two thousand, five hundred and forty nine dollars.”
“You said mil?”
“Million?” You and pope asked at the same time.
“Um…” John B said, everyone processing just how much money that was.
“That’ll do it!”
He nodded in agreement, everyone cheering and celebrating, being unable to even comprehend just how much that was.
“Holy shit…” you spoke, you laughing to yourself, Sarah laughing with you.
“That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever seen on a piece of paper.” Pope said, you smiling and talking to Cleo.
JJ went over to the cooler, taking a beer out and downing it. Kiara glanced over at him, noticing his distance from everyone.
She walked over to him, “You can smile, you know.” She told him, leaning against the cooler.
He sighed, staring at her.
“Look, this doesn’t mean we’re kooks. Just means we have a little money now.”
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“Okay, okay, wait, wait, wait, wait… hear me out. Really truck with yellow LEDS to replace the Twinkie for now.”
“That is by far one of the dumbest ideas I’ve heard from you.” You told your brother, rolling your eyes at him.
“I’m not getting rid of the Twinkie.” John B shook his head.
“But with solar panels… maybe. If it’s in the budget.” Kiara suggested, tilting her head to the side.
“And a bigger boat.”
“Guys, hold on. Hold on. It’s… it’s not like we can all go off and buy houses or anything. I mean split between all of us, that’s about 167,507 dollars. Minus what we owe barracuda Mike.”
“Let him try and come take this. I’ll mess him up.”
“I’ll mess him up for my damn leg.” You agreed.
“I’m just gonna say it. I don’t wanna piss off the drug dealer.”
“Listen, if we divide this up, we’re all gonna blow it.” Pope said, everyone turning their heads to Jj the moment he said that.
“Wow, okay. Why are you all looking at me like that?”
“It’s kind of obvious.” You retorted.
“-But maybe if we pool our money together, we can create something with actual economies of scale.”
“Like what?” Kiara asked him.
“You remember the island.”
“Duh.”
“Of course.” Kiara shrugged.
“I mean, it was our own island, and we built everything from basically nothing, right?”
“It was perfect.” Kiara said.
“The best life.” Cleo nodded.
“That whole island just to ourselves. All of us together.”
“It was nice..” you nodded in agreement with them all.
“I think we can have that again. Right here. I mean, Y/n’s and JJ’s property is going up for auction, right? So let’s buy it back. I mean, look around. A lot of land. Deep water access…” he motioned to the water behind him. “unless any of you are planning on going back to school, we’re gonna need a place to work, a place to stay and live. I think we can have both of those things here.”
“Well, it’s a nice idea, but I mean, we’d have to get the land first.” You told pope, he nodded.
“Then we could build like, a.. surf shop. And then maybe we can make our own dock.”
“This place does need a dock.” You nodded, smiling at the image.
“Ooh, what about like a bait and tackle shop?” John B suggested.
“Yeah,”
“Exactly. And… and who knows these waters better than us?”
“Nobody.” You replied.
“JJ, y/n, you guys can get a new boat and run a fishing charter. We can all live and sleep in the house-“
“Just a small warning, if this works, I am not picking up after you little shits.” You told them all, specifically staring right at Jj.
“Hey! Why are you looking at me? I’m not the one who-“
You rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around him and ruffling his hair like you would do when you were kids.
“Because we all know how messy you are.”
“I’m not messy-“
“You most definitely are, yeah.” Sarah retorted, him huffing and shoving you off of him while the rest of you laughed.
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Before the auction, you went up to Jj, pulling him to the side.
“What?” He asked you, glancing at his friends in front of you all.
“Hey, I know how you’re feeling about the house and shit, but please, don’t do some stupid shit?”
“Don’t worry, sis. We’ll get the house back easy.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about, jay.”
“I’m not gonna… do some stupid shit, alright? Trust me. I got this.” He held his hand up.
You sighed, he did not have this.
“Here’s the plan. We go up in one-dollar increments, all right? It’s gonna take a while, but we’re gonna need to save every cent we have for construction.”
“Popes on point, JJ. Got it?”
JJ let a hum, although he hesitated.
“Don’t change the plan.” Pope stared at the pair of you and your brother, you looking offended.
“Hey, don’t look at me, look at this idiot.” You poked your finger into JJs head, him rolling his eyes at you.
Everyone turned to the auctioneer, him pointing to the picture of your dad’s property.
Honestly, you wouldn’t know what you would do with yourself if you didn’t get the house. You grew up in that house, and while you may have a lot of bad memories in those walls, you loved it the same. It was like you could still hear the laughter of you and JJ as kids echoing off the walls.
It was a part of you at this point.
And you knew Jj felt the same way, you could tell it in his eyes.
“-The foreclosure sale of 14 Roger’s point road. Now, this is the old Maybank place.”
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“You know, uh, the cuts gonna be figure 8 in a few years. You walk away now, you won’t have to scurry off with your tail between your legs… and I’ll, uh, give you a little taste on the back end.” he spoke to you lowly, you staring at the man in disbelief.
“You’re gonna be dead before that happens.” You told the man, annoyed at what he had just said.
He stared at you with raised eyebrows through his glasses.
“Hey, Dale, was it?” JJ pushed you to the side, standing in front of the man now.
“That’s correct.”
“It’s not happening, hoss.” He cracked his knuckles. “Let’s play ball.”
You stared at Pope, already knowing what would go down.
“150 bid, bidder with 200, I’ve got 200…”
“I’ve got 775,000 bid,”
“This is way over our price range.” Pope told John B.
“Will you make him stop, please?” Sarah asked him:
“Get him out of here.”
John B went over to JJ, who you’ve already attempted to stop multiple times.
“Hey, please, it’s too much.”
“Just let me handle this. I’ve got it.. dude, I’ve got it!” He fought John b off of him, “775,010, right here, sir.” Jj shouted.
“775,010 to the gentleman in red.”
“Oh my god!” Pope groaned.
You sighed, half in relief and half in annoyance. Your brother was dumb to be paying that much, but you knew, deep down, you knew why he did. No one else would understand, but you would.
“That’s too rich for my blood, Rog.” Zeasy spoke, John B and Jj staring at each other.
“775,010 bidder, looking for 8…”
The auctioneer continued on, “going once, going twice, sold right here to the gentleman in red. Congratulations.”
Everyone in the group groaned, Jj turning back to Zeasy, holding his hand out.
“The most expensive property in the cut, and it’s not worth it.” He chuckled.
“Well, it is to us, sir. Now, if you can scurry off to your side of the island, and stay there, that’d be appreciated.” He waved his hand, wrapping his arms around John B.
“I get shit done. We got it. That’s all that matters. Whoo! All right.”
“What an idiot.” You murmured to yourself.
“33% above market value. Wildly overpaid. Thats like all the money.” Pope told John b, before walking past him.
You stared at JJ, him looking back at you.
“What?” He asked, you shaking your head at him.
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“Well, would you like to do the honors or should I?” You asked your brother, both of you standing in front of the caution taped door.
He shrugged, his hands going to the ends and beginning to rip it off.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I christen thee Poguelandia 2.0.” He spoke, holding the ripped up caution tape in both hands before throwing it.
You stared at him, ripping off the remaining tape.
“Let’s turn this piece of shit into our home.” You told him with a small smile.
“Let’s do it.”
He smiled back, both of you doing your usual handshake, before he opened the door and saluted to the rest of the group.
“We’re home, y’all.”
Construction on the house was the hard part of it all, everything you guys had bought and used had been as cheap as possible, even using old wood from your dad’s old shed.
And finally, after months of construction, you all felt like you had finally perfected it. JJ had his own charter, everything had been feeling normal. Better than normal.
JJ put the sign down at the dock, a proud smile on his face as he stared at everything you all had accomplished.
“Think we’re about done.” You told John B, both of you nodding and smiling, doing a handshake of your own.
“Hey, guys!” JJ called from down the dock, his hat in his hands. “I think we did it.”
“Hell yeah we did!” You shouted back.
“We’re in business baby! Wow!” He shouted, you and John B laughing at his antics. “Oh my gosh, this feels good!” He pumped his fist in the air, and this was the happiest you think you’ve ever seen him.
Everyone watched with a smile on their faces, watching him cheer on and celebrate.
“That boys mad.” Cleo laughed, you nodding in agreement.
He got on the boat, “Captain Maybank at your service! Now that has a ring to it! Nothing can stop a pogue. Nothing!”
All of you laughed, watching him jump off and onto the dock.
“That’s what I’m talking ‘bout!”
“Yeah!” John B shouted.
“Is he okay?” Sarah laughed, Kiara watching him with a smile on her face.
“Yeah. Yeah. He just never really had a home. He’s happy.”
You listened to the girls conversation, finding yourself smiling at it.
He began to dance, talking wildly to himself.
“Slow down, you’re killing ‘em!”
“Twinkle toes, all right!”
Kiara laughed, walking down to the dock, “having fun?” She asked him.
“A little bit.”
“Yeah?”
“What?” He asked, her staring at him with a wide smile on her face.
“I love you.”
He got closer to her, both of their lips crashing into each others.
You whistled at them, John B howling while Sarah laughed.
“We did it.” JJ pressed his forehead against hers, her arms wrapped around his body.
“We did. Somehow.”
“But we did it. We did it!”
That day was one that you swore you’d never forget, seeing him happy like that, that was all you wanted in your life.
Yet, intertwined with the moments of joy, there was a bittersweet ache in your heart. Thoughts of him, of Rafe, drifted through your mind.
It’s been almost two years, and you were still in love with him.
You couldn't shake the memories, the way his laughter would echo in your ears, the warmth of his presence that seemed to haunt your every thought.
A sense of longing wrapped around you, refusing to let go, painting your happiness with unfulfilled desire.
It was as if you could still imagine him looking at you, a small but soft smile on his face.
You knew he wouldn’t want to talk to you, he probably wouldn’t want to even see you.
He probably hated you now, you thought. After you told him about his dad, maybe he didn’t want to see you at all.
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Unfortunately, a large thunderstorm the night before had knocked out the power, causing the live bait to pass away, everything ruined.
“What’s the damage, pope?” JJ asked him, pope sighing.
“Fuse box is busted. Without the live bait, the fishermen won’t come, and there goes half of our business right there. We have enough profit to cover it, but barely, just barely. All right?”
Pope walked over to a jar, pulling it down from the cabinet it was in. “This is it.” He pulled out a smaller jar of gold. “The last of our AU.”
“Uh, what?”
“What?”
“English, please.” You snickered.
“Gold. It’s the periodic symbol for gold.” He told you all, as if it was obvious.
“Why not just say gold?” You asked him
“Because it doesn’t matter, all right? This is all of our savings, and it’s a no-go. This is for property taxes. So,” he set the jar of gold on the table, “we’re gonna have to tighten up…”
“Which means no more 600 dollars in gas chasing tarpon up the gulf.”
“Pope, that’s our job-“ JJ started.
“Yeah!” you agreed.
“We were chasing a bait board-“
“No more 200 dollars in heirloom tomato seeds.” Pope continued, pointing at Kiara.
Everyone began to talk over each other, arguing over it.
“What about my imported peppers?”
“Peppers gotta go too, baby.”
“We need to run the charters!
“It’s not the tomato’s fault!”
“No, hey, guys! If the business starts failing, the sharks start circling. All right?” Everyone stopped arguing.
“And we don’t even know if your dad is coming back.”
“He’s got balls if he shows his damn face around here.” You glared at Pope.
“And it’s not even his anymore.” JJ chimed in, hitting his hand against the table he was leaning on.
“It doesn’t matter. What’s he gonna think when he sees all this?”
“He’s not gonna see it.” You spat, Pope sighed, ignoring your comment before continuing.
“Listen, if we want to save this place, we skinny up until the business gets afloat again. Okay?” Pope said, leaving the shack.
JJ glanced at the gold that Pope had left on the table, an idea popping up in his mind.
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The enduro. A dumbass bike race where people place their bets on, mostly kook kids who have nothing better to do with it. It was also where your brother went to try his luck each year.
“What a fantastic day we got for racing today. You guys ready to burn some gas?”
People cheered, raising their cups and watching as everyone started practicing, their bikes throwing sand on the viewers.
“The race is kicking off soon, so make sure you get your bets in. And then wave your flag, you know what I’m saying?”
JJ stood there, gas being pumped into his bike. He glanced over to the bike next to him, where Topper sat with a smug face, nodding at JJ. Jj shook his head, turning away from the boy.
John B walked over to JJ, patting him on the shoulder. “Let’s go baby! How we feeling today, champ?”
“Like I got this whole shot.”
“Yeah? Yeah?”
“I’m gonna win it this year. I know I am.”
“Yeah, you are.”
JJ turned to look at Cleo, “Cleo, how we doing, girl?”
“Everything’s all good, man.”
“Great.”
“The girl, out.”
“All right.” He raised his hand up, both of their hands meeting as they did a handshake.
“Hey! Bring it home, little boy.” She smiled at him.
“You know I will.”
John B smiled at him, grabbing his face. “You got this. All right?”
“I know.”
“Yeah, good luck.” John B said, beginning to walk away before JJ called his name.
“Hey, hold on one sec. Hold on.”
John B turned around, Jj walking up to him again.
“Where’d you park your bike?”
“Right there. Why?” He pointed, jj staring at him, hesitating.
“Gotta tell you something before we start.”
“Oh boy, JJ, what’s going on?”
“No, it’s really not that bad.” JJ replied, although John B did not believe him.
“Go on, then. Tell me, what’s up?”
“Like, literally you’re gonna be thanking me after. Okay? So… you know, I… I bet on me. To win.”
John B turned his head, pursing his lips together.
“I know, I know, funds are tight right now, but I feel good this year. So, I put in a bet on myself. Dude, the odds are like, seven to one!” He smiled, “with me on this thing, that’s like three to one.”
“Hold on, okay.”
“It’s free money.”
“Where did you get some extra money?”
“That’s what I’ve got to tell you. Um…” jj cleared his throat, “so, I went into the kitty and bet the last nug…. Now, before you say anything, I just gotta tell you-“
John B scoffed, backing away from JJ.
“Dude, listen, I got this, man.”
John B held his finger out, “JJ, JJ, just stop.” He walked over to JJ again, looking at him in disbelief. “Jj, are you serious?”
“Yes I’m serious.”
“That was our last 20 grand. That was supposed to go to property taxes for poguelandia.”
“Bro, I know! Okay? I know. I know you’re about to hit me now. I can sense it.”
“I’m thinking about it.”
“Save it. Gotta commit at this point. I got it. You know I do. But it wouldn’t hurt to have a little backup on this one. You know what I’m saying?”
“You want me to ride?”
“Just cover me. All right? Just like old times in the backyard. You and me? We school these fools, and we save the farm. You know we can do this. Easy.”
Your heart dropped when your eyes spotted the familiar bike, along with those damn blue eyes. His eyes met yours for a moment, and it felt as if time stopped, as if everyone else was gone in that moment.
“Oh my fucking god.” You mumbled to yourself, Pope raising an eyebrow at you, following your gaze.
Rafe stood there, a faint frown creasing his brow when he caught sight of you. A tight knot formed in his throat. He longed to close the distance between you two, to feel the warmth of your embrace or press his lips against yours again—anything to bridge th silence that had stretched between them.
It had been a year and a half since everything, yet his heart remained tethered to you. The weight of his lingering affection tormented him, and hehted how helpless he was.
He could see the tears begin to well up in your eyes, even from afar.
Topper was the one to snap him out of his daze, and Pope was the one to snap him out of yours.
Topper hit his shoulder, Rafe finally taking a breath when his eyes left yours.
“Dude, I told you, forget about her.”
“What? I wasn’t looking at her, dude.” Rafe lied, looking over at you, only to find you looking away again.
“Was he not here last year?” Pope asked you, you finally taking your eyes off of him.
“Yeah, he- he was, but I mean-it doesn’t matter, I gotta go. I can’t be here for this shit.” You held your hands up, your heart beat picking up and your palms beginning to get clammy.
“Just ignore him.“ Pope shrugged, you sighing, holding the back of your hands to your eyes, pressing on them.
You then realized, that he used to do the same thing. You put your hands down, glancing at Pope before speaking and turning around
“I’ll- I’ll be back.” You murmured, stumbling away from the crowd, leaning against a shed, taking deep breaths while trying to think about anything else.
“Shit, I need a drink.” You told yourself, taking one last deep breath before standing up and walking over to the nearest cooler, stealing a drink and downing the entire can in one go, before grabbing another.
You sighed when you walked up to Pope and Cleo, your eyes avoiding Rafe and instead looking at your brother and John B.
“Let’s do this shit, Jay!”
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Taglist
@cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow @saintnourah @calmoistorm @ethanthequeefqueen @theoraekenslover @just-levyy @hallecarey1
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sinsirellaxx · 2 days ago
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ok chat my birthday was a day ago so i gota ask.. slytherin boys celebrating ur birthday? (esp tom pspspsps)
Slytherin Boys – how they would celebrate your birthday
Warnings: None – this actually turned out to be rather wholesome?
A/N: Sorry for the long and sudden break – took me a while to find somewhat of a new routine. And I am so sorry anon – I don't know how old this ask his but anyway: happy (extremely) belated birthday! I hope you had an amazing day! Have fun reading ❤️
Enjoy!
Mattheo …
… who would try to bake something just because he knows how much you love chocolate cake.
… who would almost cry because the finished cake looked borderline poisonous before running into the kitchens to threaten ask the house elves to bake him a cake for you.
… who would surprise you in his dorm after kicking the other boys out and threatening them to hex them if they disturbed you.
… who would be laying on his side on the bed with a bow around his hips and the cake in front of him.
… who would lie about the cake – telling you he made it for you. “Happy birthday, babe. I made this for you.”
… who would smirk as he told you that he is your present, while wiggling his eyebrows and pointing at the big red bow on his crotch.
… who would roll his eyes when you raised your brow at that, quickly giving you your real present before calling you his “materialistic queen”.
Theodore …
… who almost forgot about your birthday. He found out when he saw your girl friends sing happy birthday for you loudly in the Hall.
… who immediately skedaddled out of there, pissed at himself for forgetting your birthday.
… who’d skip classes to go to Hogsmeade (he almost got caught) and buy you your favorite things.
… who’d sneak into the kitchens right before dinner to steal food just so he could prepare a picnic for you.
… whose heart hurt when he saw your angry face until you noticed the picnic.
… who’d brag about him being the best boyfriend and telling you he’d “never forget, amore”.
Lorenzo …
… who would plan a surprise party with all of your (and mainly his) friends on the night before your birthday.
… who’d created a list of presents that you might like – to ensure you’d only get things you like.
… who’d whisk you away after the time hit midnight to give you his present in private – he wanted to be the first.
… who’d dance with you in the privacy of his room, kissing you after ending the dance before leading you back to the party.
… who’d roll his eyes when the party guests called him a greedy b*tch for stealing you away
Draco …
… who would make sure to remind you daily leading up to your birthday that it’s your day, so you better let him spoil you.
… who’d sneak into Honeydukes to buy your favorite sweets, because he wants to be the one to treat you to everything you love.
… who’d insist on picking out the perfect dress for you and make sure it fits perfectly, so you’d look flawless on your special day.
… who’d act like he’s so annoyed when you point out his thoughtful gestures, but secretly feels a bit proud of himself.
… who’d give you a gift wrapped in luxurious paper, telling you it’s not something you can ever buy for yourself.
… who’d be way too proud of how good you look in the dress he picked out for you and won’t stop staring at you all night.
… who’d get a little possessive when other guys look at you, making sure to remind them that you’re his with a sharp look or a possessive hand on your waist.
Blaise …
… who’d be the one to organize the most relaxing and intimate birthday evening, knowing that you just want peace and quiet.
… who would definitely take you out to a quiet dinner at one of the hidden spots around Hogwarts that only a select few know about.
… who’d give you a thoughtful gift that was well beyond your expectations, something sentimental that shows how much he listens to everything you say.
… who’d take a walk with you after dinner, talking about everything and nothing, making you feel like you’re the most important person in his world.
… who’d quietly ask you if you liked the gift, and would be slightly insecure until you reassure him you love it.
… who’d smirk slightly when you thank him and call him your "birthday savior," secretly feeling proud he made your day special.
Tom …
… who’d remind you about your birthday days in advance because he doesn’t forget important dates, even if it doesn’t seem like it.
… who’d act like he couldn’t care less about celebrating, but when the day arrives, he’d still find a way to make it unforgettable for you.
… who would make an effort to give you a gift that only someone who truly understands you could choose – something meaningful, intellectual, and thought-provoking.
… who’d take you to a secluded spot in the castle and tell you how much you mean to him in a rare moment of vulnerability.
… who’d whisper softly, “I trust you, more than anyone else,” as you both share a moment in private, far from prying eyes.
… who would give you a small, carefully selected token that’s symbolic of how he feels about you, something with deeper meaning that you’d never expect from someone like him.
… who’d leave you with a kiss on your forehead, a touch of possessiveness and longing in his eyes before disappearing, making sure your birthday is something only the two of you share.
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theereina · 2 days ago
Text
Big Mama Pt. 6
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC
Wordcount: +2.3K
Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, no smut, use of pet names (Daddy, Mama, lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, b*tch, etc.), fluff, dirty talk, choking, Dom/Sub(brat)~relationship established
A/N: I don't know how many parts there will be. However, I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.
Big Mama Pt. 1 => 🦋
Big Mama Pt. 2 => 🦋
Big Mama Pt. 3 => 🦋
Big Mama Pt. 4 => 🦋
Big Mama Pt. 5 => 🦋
*Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥
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“So, where yo’ man at? He still ain't back yet?” asked Monica. We had been on the phone chatting all morning. “I guess on the lake. He's still probably fishing,” I said, leaning against the counter. “Oh, so he out fishing, and you at home being all domestic and shit. Okay, housewife!” Monica laughed. “Shut the hell up,” I laughed.
I had been cooking all morning since Terry left. I packed his lunch in a cooler before making breakfast earlier that morning. “So, we cooking three meals a day now?” she said being messy. “Listen, you messy whore. Stop picking on me,” I said, smacking my lips. I turned back to the stove and stirred the pot of collard greens. “You right! I'll leave you alone,” Monnie said.
I walked to the fridge and pulled out the variety of shredded cheeses I bought. I poured all of them into a glass bowl I placed on the counter. Since it was too soon to cook it, I only wanted to start preparing the macaroni and cheese for now.
“We both know you're lyin’!” I said into the phone. “Girl, it's just crazy seein’ you like this. It's so fuckin' cute. You all soft and shit,” she said giggling. “Whatever!” I yelled back while rolling my eyes. “You and I both know you ain't never did no shit like this. I'm used to Big Mama who be pressin’ niggas. Now, yo’ ass in the house cookin’ for one,” she hollered. I scoffed at her remark. Was I really that down bad?
I opened the oven and checked on the cornbread. The sweet smell of honey wafted through the air. I lightly pressed the top of the bread checking the firmness. I put on an oven mitt and pulled it from the oven. I sat it on a towel on the counter. “Girl, I wish you could see this cornbread. It's beautiful,” I said smiling. “Only you would call cornbread beautiful. Keep teasing me, and imma pull up, bitch. I'll bring my own Tupperware, so don't worry!” she cackled. “So, you just gone show up to eat, then leave?” I asked. “Well, what else am I supposed to do? Y'all too busy playin’ house and shit!” Monnie stated.
“You know what? Fuck you! I'm getting off the phone,” I snorted. “That's right! You betta have Mister’s plate on that table by the time he make it home. Oh, and bring me back a niece or nephew while you at it,” she giggled. “Bye, and it's still fuck you!” I said, hanging up the phone.
At this point, I was floating through the kitchen— mixing Mac and cheese, stirring collard greens, frying and flipping chicken, and whipping up a banana pudding. It felt so good to be in my happy place.
4 hours later ~ around 7 p.m.
Rinsing off the day, Terry was upstairs taking a shower, and I was finishing the final touches for dinner. The mac and cheese was browned to perfection. The collard greens were flavorful and savory. The fried chicken was chef’s kiss. The cornbread smelled like heaven. The banana pudding was just waiting in the fridge. I had outdone myself. Maybe Monnie was right. Was I in my housewife era? Had Terry put me in soft girl mode? Ah, shit!
As I reached to retrieve the plates from the cabinet, I felt something press against my back. “I got it, mama. Let me,” Terry said, reaching over me. “Thank you,” I said, kissing his cheek. He put the plates down on the counter in front of me. “Shit, I didn't realize you had done all this. You really weren't playin’, huh?” Terry asked, wrapping his arms around my waist. He leaned over and started planting small kisses on my neck.
“If you wanna eat, you gotta leave me alone. The plates haven't even hit the table,” I giggled while shrugging my shoulder to get him to stop. “It’s a shame that a man can't have dessert before dinner,” he said, turning me around to face him. He pressed his body against mine and trapped me against the counter. “Terry, you promised to behave. Come on!” I said, pushing my hip towards him. “No, I promised to try. I did. I swear, but you look so damn good,” he said, placing his arms on the counter beside me. I whined and scrunched my face. Did I want to fuck Terry’s brains out? Yes! However, I had also spent all day cooking his favorite meal and dessert.
I folded my arms across my chest. “Ah, mama! Okay, I’m sorry. You’re right. I asked you to cook for me, and you did just that. Thank you, love,” he said pulling me into him. His lips crashed into mine. He held my face in his hands and tilted my head to look him in the eyes. “Forgive me?” he asked flashing that devious smile. This sneaky bastard knew how to get me. “Yes, now move!” I said nudging him away from me.
Terry reached for the plate in front of me. “I said move. Didn't I? That means sit down, Terry!” I said rolling my eyes and laughing. I turned towards the counter, blocking him. “My bad. I don’t know what it is, but you knowin’ yo’ way around a kitchen like this makes me wanna…,” he said backing away from me. “Makes you wanna what?” I questioned as I turned around to look at him. Terry’s eyes lingered on my face and slowly dropped to my abdomen. A smile so sinister spread over his face. “I know damn well you aren’t suggestin’ that. A baby, Terry?” I scoffed while smiling. “I mean… You love me, right?” he asked while sitting at the table.
“First, it was Monnie talkin’ about bring her back a niece or nephew. Now, you! I can't deal with this. Why does everybody want me to get pregnant?” I laughed. “I don't know Monnie’s reasons because I wouldn't trust her to watch a pot of boiling water. However, I know mine, and I have… well,… many,” he said leaning back against the kitchen chair. He raised his arms so that they rested across the back. “And what might those be? Hm? I really wanna know, sir. Tell me,” I said as I turned to the food waiting on the stove.
“Don't worry about it, Mama. Just know I haven't found a reason not to. I'm just waitin' on you,” he said smiling. “Yo’ ass gone be waitin' a long ass time, too. A baby? Terry, you can't be serious!” I squealed. “A long ass time, huh? That's what you think. Imma get one out of you, ‘Vana. Best believe, I'm not gone have to trap you to do it either,” he cackled. “You know what? I'm not doin' this with you!” I said beginning to plate the food.
20 minutes later
“Done, baby?” I asked Terry while standing with my plate in my hand. “Uh,… Yeah,’’ Terry said. “You sound unsure. Baby, I ain't gone ever tell you you can't have more,” I said placing my plate in the sink. Terry’s eyes rose to meet my backside. His eyes lingered on my ass since my back was still turned. “More of what?” Terry asked biting his lip. I could sense a hint of something in his voice. I peeked over my shoulder to see him watching me. I giggled at his antics. “Terry? You know I can see you, right?” I said walking back to the table. I leaned over so that my face was close to his. If this was the game he wanted to play, let’s do it!
“Mmm. Why you playin’ wit’ me, ‘Vana?” he said shifting in his seat. “It’s easy,” I responded. “Oh, really?” he said licking his lips. I could feel his breath on my face. His chest was rising and falling rapidly. I could tell he was becoming more aroused by the second. “You never answered my question, honey. Do you want more?” I asked squatting down in front of him. “And you never answered mine. More of what?’” Terry asked as he leaned up to gently grab my chin. “You want my honest answer?” I asked placing my hands on his knees.
Terry's eyes watched my hands. “Of course, I want honesty, mama. Talk to me,” he said letting his thumb stroke my cheek. “If Daddy wants more, he can have whatever the fuck he wants,” I said trailing my hands up his thighs. Terry’s movements stilled, and his eyes shot up to my face. His eyes clouded with lust and darkened with desire.
Terry’s grip on my chin tightened as he used it to pull me forward. My knees hit the floor so I was kneeling in front of him. I leaned over and let my cheek rest on his growing erection. “Mamas, don't start something you can't finish. If you aren't ready for this, find you something safe to do,” he said. “The fuck is that supposed to mean,” I snapped as I looked up at him. “Aye, watch yourself. You heard me, little girl. I meant what I said,” he said grabbing my chin again. “Me? A little girl? Does someone need a reminder of who the fuck I am?” I asked leaning back on my calves and folding my arms across my chest. “You got one more cuss word before I…,” he said lowering his eyes into slants.
I couldn't believe I was doing this. I was initiating “playtime”. The excitement of the unknown pulsed through my veins. I was about to allow Terry to fully indulge in his needs and wants. I calmed my breathing before looking up at Terry again. “Before you what? You ain't gonna do shit, and we both know it. There ain't shit you can give that I can’t take,” I said fully committing to brat mode.
“You sure you wanna take this route? Once we begin, there's no turning back. You know that, right?” Terry asked leaning over me. His posture had changed and so had his energy. His shoulders were stiff and squared. It was as if his body was blanketing my entire aura and being. I sat for a minute contemplating my next move. How could I outdo myself?
I smiled as a thought crept into my head. I pulled my hands away and placed them in my lap. With the confidence of a goddess, I said, “You created this monster. Deal with it.” Terry's breathing halted before a smirk spread across his face. His hands instantly grabbed a handful of hair at the back of my head. “You got a lotta mouth, lil mama. I don't like that. I don't like it all,” he said tightening his grip. I moaned loudly. I could feel a puddle growing in my panties.
I was fully committed to my role as a brat. I laughed at Terry in an attempt to piss him off. That was having little to no effect on him. I knew I had to make him execute his fantasy to the fullest. I took a deep breath before speaking. “Fuck all that! What you trying to do, huh?” I asked biting my lip and cocking my head to the side.
All sentiments of expression left Terry’s face, and his body grew in anger. His hand quickly left my hair and found my throat. He squeezed tight enough for my breathing to stop. Ironically, all I could think about was how good this felt. My pussy quivered and ached as I released what felt like a mini orgasm. It soaked through my panties as he loosened the grip he had on my throat. “Look at you. Daddy’s little slut. You just couldn't help yourself, huh? That’s fine, mama. Just know this— when we get in that room, I’m gone turn yo thick ass every which way but loose. Don't run. Don't speak. Don't touch shit. It's my turn. Got it?” he said, releasing me with a push.
I looked up at Terry with big doe eyes before speaking again. “Yes, Big Daddy. I understand,” I said while struggling to hide my excitement. “Oh, you think those pretty brown eyes gone help you, huh? Ha! Too late for that. I’m trying to see the monster I created. Bring her out. Fuck all that cute shit!” he said leaning back into the chair. “But…” I started. “Aye, I don't remember asking you to speak. The only thing I want you to do with that there pretty mouth of yours is to suck, lick, slob, swallow, and do it again. You nasty, bitch!” Terry demanded.
As if activated on cue, I could feel the heat between my legs. I wanted this man’s hands all over me. RIGHT THE FUCK NOW! It was Terry’s turn to indulge in his fantasy as a dom. I loved the idea since he would show hints of it sometimes. His only request was not to be easy. He didn't want me to fully submit without any pushback. He liked the idea of me talking shit and provoking him. Terry’s plan involved leaning into a darker side of himself that he had never completely let out, and I trusted him enough to agree to do it. I felt he deserved this moment especially since he didn't judge me about mine.
So, let’s see where tonight takes us.
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aespabangedup · 2 days ago
Note
If you were adopted as a son into a family that thought sex between family members was normal and became a family of four, which female idols would you want to be your stepmother, step older sister, and step younger sister? And tell me about your daily routine with them.
Writer's Note: From an aespa smut writer's point of view, it would be mommy Karina, big sis Giselle and little sis Winter and Ningning. But as that would be too predictable and their age gap isn't big, I am going to choose different idols with different ages.
LOVE FUCKING FAMILY WENCHES
I got adopted into a family of three woman who believes in incest and free use among family members......
What? I know you are surprised but it's true. Incestuous family does exist and they are heaven for those who loves multiple sex partners under same roof.
Guess what was the criteria for choosing me? My glorious 7 inch cock. My new mommy Jihyo gave me a tit job at the day of our interview. When I choked her deep throat, forced my bulbous dick all the way in shooting ropes after ropes of healthy man milk down her food pipe, she immediately choosed me as her new son.
She divorced her 4th husband for cheating. The family have free use rule with one more rule and that is you can't fuck other women without the permission of your womens in family which he broke fucking around everyone's wife and daughter in the neighborhood, without their permission.
So Jihyo divorced him that month. Instead of marrying 5th time, she decided to adopt a son this time, hoping a younger male will be easier to control around. Plus her daughters prefer young meat fucking them over middle aged men. So a big dick young male is all she needed.
The day she brought me home, we had car sex all the way while her electric car drove us safely. Her lose holes were perfect for my thick boy as she keep riding me all the way. I relexed my face in her massive boobs as she keep releasing her pent up frustration, soaking my dick and balls with her cum.
When we arrived I pick her up, my 7 inch cock still in her relatively tighter ass hole while she crossed her legs around my hip. I walked toward the door, pressed the bell while pumping upward in her gut, faster as my bladder was feeling full. I needed to pee soon.
A cute young girl in her 20 opened the door, not surprised at all seeing her mom getting fucked. It was her younger daughter Hanni, mommy had shown me her picture before. "Good morning little sis," I said before quickly running toward the sofa and throw Jihyo on her back. I pounded her ass for one more min and cummed my ball empty in her ass, yellowish discharge coming out when I pull back as she tries to catch her breath.
I was in a hurry to pee so asked Hanni where is the toilet, but surprising me she ran toward my still hard dick and sat down saying "I am your urinal" and take my dick in her mouth, cupping my balls with hands. She made me lose all control as I pushed all the way in and pissed my bladder empty straight in her stomach. I took my time peeing as you don't get to pee like this everyday, Hanni drinking all of it pushing aside her gag reflex.
"You should stop drinking piss Hanni. You got sick after last week's party becoming the urinal in dare game." Said my new older sister Somi while walking down the stairs from 2nd floor, she was full nude. Her whole body was glistining with sweat, her toned abs, bubble boobs and tight butt in full display. Her hip was swaying around, she is such an expensive slut!
It was weekend and Somi work out harder in free days. She don't wear anything while working out in home. Seeing her tight little pussy made me hard again, I was still in Hanni's mouth. Hanni looked up to me and started blowing me, my piss dripping out her lips. Somi went to the fridge to pick her shakes.
"If you have to drink then drink cum, cum is full of protein and helps building muscle." She walked to our fucked up mom with the juice in her hand. "Good morning Somi," said Jihyo while her legs were still spread wide. My cum was dripping out of her gaped holes. Somi insert her two fingers into mommy's pussy and scoped out some of my cum and send it in her mouth.
"You are too salty, I'll give you a proper diet to make your cum tastier. You have to cut down your intake of junk foods lil bro." She cleaned her fingers and then started to slurp mommy's pussy, putting her tongue inside her ass and pussy making sure not a single drop of my cum goes to waste.
I knew I had the license to fuck any of them but seeing how erotic three of them with each other sent me over the edge. My cute little Hanni was trying her best to give my massive dick deepthroat, but I took the matter into my own hand and started to face fuck her. By the time I ended up cumming deep in Hanni's throat, Somi licked Jihyo clean. I came undone making sure Hanni drank every single drop of my fluid.
Hanni's face turned red from suffocation, mouth agaped and tongue lolled out like a doggie in heat. Somi came and grab my dick to check my grith. "At least your size is good lil bro. Save up some nutritious cum for me next time." She then proceeded to take my entire length down her throat, surpassed her gag reflex like a pro. She pull out, give Hanni's urinal a deep kiss to taste my fluids further and goes back to where she came from.
It's been a year and half since then. I have fucked my mommy and sis countless times. We have sex oftens, but it's not like we keep fucking all day around. Even deranged fuckers got a life to live, ok? So it's more like if we got the drive to do it or not.
It's important to say what my women do. Jihyo is head secretary of a middle aged conglromate, well more like his mistress. Her main job is warming his cock in office, riding his dick while he do all the important job. He fucks her everyday, solo or in a group with his clients. Entire office know it so as his illegitimate wife she wield a lot of power. Her favorite style is showing her entire cleavage wearing pushed up bra, making her huge tities a thing of eye candy. I even watched him fucking her once as she called me over and let me see how my mama is a corporate bitch.
Somi work as a high end club dancer. From dancing on a pole or on multiple men's dick, she is the epitome of a sex doll. Getting fucked daily from men around world who she never met or will never meet is normal for her. She wanted to be an idol but got sold into prostitution instead. By the time she got rescued by our bitchy mom with her own connection in brothels, she was already too used to sex. So she took prostitution as her career. There are even some porn videos of her in the internet, getting millions of views.
Hanni is a nympho college student. That's all she is. She barely study but still get straight A by fucking all teachers in college. There is not a single straight boy in her college who haven't fucked her up in a group or alone. She never come back home in perfect shape after a party. They always end up gangbanging her until she is reduced to nothing but a piece of filthy meat. Once they called us from a party. We had to rush and take her to a hospital for alcohol intoxication and sexual abuse. It took her a month to be my urinal again.
Considering it's a weekend and we all have the sex drive, then it's most probably mom who sleeps the night with me. Her warm big boobs is used to comfort me, suffocating me between her mounds while I comfort her overused gaped cunt with my big cock. I keep pistoning comfort inside her until both of us pass out from exhaustion.
At the morning we wake up late from our sinful love making, go to take a shower togather as we passionately clean each other, licking and kissing our holes. My little lovely urinal Hanni prep the breakfast and serve it. Somi is always in her birthday dress. Mom goes out for work as sexual secretaries have no weekend. I goes to Somi's room and exercise with her in many Kamasutra position. Hanni sometimes join us, sometimes she just do her other work. I end the exercise getting steamy all again, leaving my wench of a big sis Somi cum drunk and exhausted on the mat. Hanni is definitely getting her daily dose of nutritional piss if she call me over for studying. It's just an excuse as we fuck like rabbit most of the time with occasional study talk.
That's it. 🖕🏻
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Chapter 14: Don't Be A Bundt Cake
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV
Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)
Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy, Miscommunication Trope
Word Count: 13.1K
Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Talks of Death, DENIAL, Idiots in Love, Pining by the Reader (and SB, but he won't admit it) Depressing Thoughts, Mentions of sexual assault/rape (not detailed at all, really just in passing) Talks about weed, Sexist comments, Ben makes derogatory comments, Threatening Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
A/N: I am so sorry this one took me a bit longer. The writers block was fighting me the whole way, but we are very closely nearing the end of this series and the moment the reader and Ben stop being so stinkin' stubborn.
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Reader POV
You lean your forehead against the cool window, watching the world flash by in a flurry of color. The wooded forests had vanished hours ago and all that was left were the yellowed sprawling fields of corn and grain and family farms that were laid sporadically along the interstate. Each one a little world that caught the flecks of golden sunlight as the sun began to peak above the horizon.
The bus rolled smooth and steady over the weathered pavement towards it's destination and was filled with an odd assortment of people young and old. There was man with a brightly colored parrot that had been singing "It's A Small World After All" since you left NYC, a woman with a little boy playing with an iPad and who refused to turn down the volume no matter how many times his mother asked him to, a group of teenagers a few seats up that continued to pass around a flask, and due to how far back you were sitting on the bus an uncomfortable smell emanated from the bathroom each time the door was opened.
But you didn't notice any of it.
The only thing on your mind were the events that happened almost twenty hours ago. They continued to circle your mind, playing over and over again like a perverted cassette tape making you sink further into the worn cloth covered seat at the back of the bus. The images were haunting, some new and some old, but all the more still horrible to re-live.
The song "Nights In White Satin" floating into the backseat of your family's car, the flash of unnatural light you knew was never lightning, the caskets at your parent's funeral covered in flowers that were much to pretty to lay on something so morbid, Elijah's body succumbing to the poppies that ripped him apart, the proud sneer on your brother's face when he admitted to killing your parents, Darren's broken and bloodied body strewn in pieces over the street with the creature standing over him with a dripping red maw, the ruined building that housed "Please Don't Die" reduced to nothing more than rubble, and the look on Ben's face when you turned your back on him and fled the scene.
For some reason that particular image seemed to cling on to you and refused to fade. You'd never seen him look that way, almost… helpless and a little fearful. In all the time you'd known him, Ben had never looked at you that way. Sure you'd seen him proud, angry, cocky, lustful, mischievous, but never fearful. And you were sure that it wasn't an emotion that he was used to feeling, but that begged the question… why?
Why was he looking at me like that? Why wouldn't he let me go? And what was he afraid of?
The creature curled in your lap snorts something in it's sleep, turning it’s head further into the cradle of your elbow to shut out the brilliant early morning sunlight. It was now the size of a toaster and had warranted several odd looks whenever you got off to change buses, but you didn't care.
You weren't sure about anything anymore. Everything your brother confessed to you made you feel like you were living a lie and the revelation of exactly what your powers could do- take life from plants to heal yourself, create whatever the hell it was on your lap, and speak to plants… it scared you.
You thought for so long that you knew everything about your powers, that you were in control, but now you weren't sure.
You felt different, as if something had unlocked deep down that you couldn't shut up again.
You'd felt different after you killed Elijah, but this was more alive, weaving and twisting in the pit of your stomach. You felt more connected to the earth, to the world outside the bus even though you were divided by glass and metal. You could feel the energy that thrummed through the body of the creature on your lap, bending to your will, the life force of the plants it was formed from molding with you, becoming a part of you.
You felt so different than the person you had been before Darren entered the shop, so uncertain, and there was only one place you wanted to be when you felt like this… home. You couldn't wait to run up the worn front steps of your grandmother's house and into her arms. She always knew what to say in times like this.
And you desperately needed the comfort of her embrace.
The phone in your pocket buzzes again and you flip the screen to see the ridiculous selfie Annie and you had taken on Halloween last year. The one that you'd both spent dressed up as the two brothers from your favorite paranormal tv show. It wasn't the first time she'd called. Annie had called and texted you more times than you could count over the past twenty hours but you didn't answer her. You didn’t want to.
It was the first time that you didn't want to talk to her, but talking to her meant that you'd have to re-live all of it again and you were clawing at the last shred of sanity you had left to keep it together.
The overwhelming waves of emotion kept pummeling you, dragging you deeper beneath the white surf. Each one brought the memories of what happened surging over you and were followed by everything that Darren said to you. Years of taking care of Darren and doing whatever he wished were tearing at your soul, years of giving up little things in your life to make him happy, and years of taking care of a man who you thought cared about you, but hated you enough to kill your parents and try to kill you too.
It made your skin crawl. Each time your brother told you that he loved you was an even bigger lie and now that you knew the truth and saw him for what he was, it felt like you were drowning. The darkness that ebbed just on the edge was begging you to leap into the abyss, but you were resisting the best you could.
The tears had stopped falling miles ago, but you couldn't stop the memories or the emotion that formed a cold ball in the pit of your stomach.
A sigh works it's way up and you pull your legs on the seat underneath you, jostling the creature on your lap that raises it's head for a moment to blink it's black eyes at you sleepily.
It was surprisingly docile right now, especially considering that twenty hours ago it had ripped your brother to shreds. In fact it seemed to understand how upset you were and had spent the better part of the last twenty hours rubbing it's head against your arm as if trying to bring you some comfort. It was settled on your lap, the weight of it a comfort, almost like a weighted plushy that gave you something to focus on.
"It's alright buddy." You whisper, scratching him under his chin. "We're almost home."
The phone in your jacket pocket buzzes again, but when you pull it out to turn it off, you catch a glimpse of the screen, and you hesitate. Because this time it's not Annie who's calling, it’s Ben.
The picture that flashes on the screen under the contact name "Gramps" is the picture of Mr. Fredrickson from Up. It always made you smile whenever he called you and you saw the picture because Ben did often remind you of him. He was certainly just as grumpy as Mr. Fredrickson and just as out of touch, but you thought it was cute.
Your thumb hovers over the answer button and you think about talking to him.
But what would I say?
You weren't sure what to say to him, or why you wanted to speak to him so badly, why you wanted him to be sitting here on the bus with you as you went home, and why you wanted him to hold you against his chest while you allowed yourself to break, but you did. You wanted to feel his awkward shoulder pat and his awkward version of hand holding and you wanted to hear him try to tell you to "buck up" or whatever he thought that a comforting word should be.
He's really not the best at that.
You smile to yourself at the memory of how he tried to comfort you back at the hospital, but the longer you sit there and look down at the picture on the screen the worse you feel.
Maybe that scared you more than your newfound powers, how much you were realizing that you needed him, how much you depended on him when things got too much for you to bear. The memory of him appearing as soon as you needed him back at the shop, another of him grabbing Darren and throwing him into the street as soon as Darren insulted you comes in a flash, and finally followed by the memory of Ben carrying you out of Elijah's office while you curled into his chest. You couldn't remember too much from that moment, in fact you'd thought that Ben had kissed you on top of your head, but you ascribed that to the haze of pain you'd been in from your broken arm.
What you did remember was how wonderfully warm he was after you'd been trapped in that damn freezer and how nice it felt to be in his arms. Another memory of Ben sleeping on the couch at the hospital bubbles up and you feel something in your chest begin to crack open. And you try your best to tell yourself the same thing that you always do when you feel like Ben might care more about you that he was letting on.
Ben doesn't want that. He's made it perfectly clear. He doesn't want a relationship. He's only wants one night, that's why he goes out with all those women-
You hesitate, thumb still hovering over the answer button as you do, the memory of the week you'd spent at the apartment with him flickering in the back of your mind. The week where he refused to leave you alone in the apartment, where he refused to do any jobs for Butcher, where he took care of you the best way he could, when he sat with you on the couch and made you laugh with his ridiculous movies, and the week where he hadn't had one date.
Your finger itched to answer the phone, but you couldn't, because you didn't want to feel this way about Ben, not when he'd told you countless times that you kept romanticizing him, not when he told you that he didn't want a relationship, and not when you could feel yourself beginning to fall for someone you thought was the wrong man.
For just a moment you tried to pretend that it was different, that he was different, but you didn't want to. It only made it hurt more.
The phone stops ringing, but the pit in your stomach still gapes open at you and for the first time in twenty hours you feel tears begin to fall. You didn't know why you were crying about this, why the thought of not picking up Ben's phone call seemed to hurt more than everything that had happened, but something made it hurt.
The bus driver announces over the overhead that you're reaching your final destination as he takes the exit for your hometown. The familiar buildings that line the streets are sheathed in a honeyed glow from the sun, the long shadow of the bus darkening them momentarily as it rumbles down the small streets to the bus station.
When it rumbles to a stop at the bus station you wait for everyone else to get off, trying to summon the strength to stand, and swipe the back of your hand across your face to rid yourself of the remaining tears.
The bus station was about a thirty minute walk from your grandmother's house, and you still hadn't called her. You didn't know what to say, didn't know how to tell her that Darren was dead and that he was the reason why your parents were dead.
The creature crawls up your body to drape it's warm body over the back of your neck as you stand. It wasn't bothering to hide, besides the people in your hometown already thought that you were odd because you were a supe and you'd always welcomed it. You give him a scratch on top of his head and his warm tongue flicks on the bottom of your earlobe as if thanking you before it curls further into the side of your neck, seeking warmth.
The first few steps on solid ground are shaky, but you find the strength while taking in a deep cleansing breath of the outside world, letting the gentle warmth of the sun and the tickle of the autumn breeze pull at your coat. You hadn't stopped at your apartment before coming here, instead you had stumbled your way to the bus station covered in dust, flecked in blood, and demanded the first ticket back to Illinois. It was lucky that the next bus was leaving immediately, because you didn’t want to spend another second in NYC, not when all you wanted was to be home.
Plus you were worried that someone had recorded what exactly happened outside the plant shop and you didn't want to get arrested.
It was self defense anyway. Maybe Jake would represent me in court.
The thought of Jake makes you twinge. You hadn't checked to see if he was alright before you ran from the scene. Not to mention you'd destroyed the shop he'd put all his life savings into after he stopped being a lawyer.
Oh fuck, what if he sues me? He can't exactly sue Darren…
You hear someone call your name and you open your eyes.
Your grandmother is standing in front of the same baby blue pickup truck that she'd had longer than you've been alive, wearing a long multicolored skirt and a pressed white blouse tucked elegantly into it. Her silver hair is loose and long, curling over her shoulders in gentle waves. She looks the same way she looked one week ago when she left, and you've never seen anything so beautiful in your life.
You're running before you can stop yourself, crumbling into her warm embrace, with more tears streaking down your face, but she doesn't mind.
"Shh. It's alright honey." She whispers, rubbing her hand over your back, her embrace steady and surprisingly strong. "Let's go home."
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Her home is the same as it's always been. A two story Victorian house painted in a happy yellow shade, with a white wrap around porch and two white rocking chairs sitting empty on the front porch. You'd spent more nights than you could count rocking silently beside her with a crochet project in your lap listening to the rain fall and soak the world outside, while the plants sang praises with every gentle bend beneath the heavy droplets.
You could barely remember the home you spent in your early years with your parents, not when you'd spent most of your childhood spending the night here and after your parents died living here permanently. There was still a large oak tree were a wooden swing swung in the slight breeze on the left side of the yard, a gardenia bush that stretched as high as the second story on the right side of the house and brushed it's soft leaves against the sunshine colored outer walls, a garden filled with both flowering plants and herbs that perked up on both sides of the front yard as you walked up the path, and a cobblestone path that Annie and you had spent hours of your shared childhood covering in chalk art.
Neither of you were good, but when the rain would fall and smudge the clean lines, you'd jump in the puddles that pooled along the walkway singing the lyrics to ABBA's "Cassandra" not quite understanding what it meant.
Standing here outside your house made you miss Annie and feel worse about not calling or texting her back, but you didn't feel like talking about what happened and you were sure that Butcher filled her in. The only thing that you wanted was to collapse in your bedroom upstairs and curl under the comforters.
Despite everything the house was a welcome sight, but at the same time it was different. You could feel the plants calling out to you, asking for you, bending towards you just to touch your shoes as you walked by. You'd never felt so connected with them before, not even when you were in your apartment or working at the shop.  It was overwhelming.
And although a part of you was frightened by it, another part of you rejoiced in it. You didn't feel alone, didn't feel weak, and you knew that you never would ever again.
The creature nuzzled into the side of your neck with a sigh, soaking up the sun's healing rays as you walked up the front steps with your grandmother following behind you silently. She hadn't spoken since she picked you up at the bus station and you hadn't supplied anything in the ten minute car ride back to her house.
You didn't know where to start and you were still trying to process everything yourself.
The inside of her house was just as cozy and warm as it was the day you moved out. There were photos of your parents and you covering the walls (Darren's had been placed in the closet long ago), half-finished knitting projects sorted in different baskets on both the dining room table and the living room coffee table, spools of yarn were strewn over the couch sorted by color, and the fresh smell of gardenia wafted through the open windows on the breeze.
It was home. This was what you'd been missing the moment everything began to crash over you, but as you stood there in the familiar living room it felt like something was missing. Something tugged at the back of your mind, but you couldn't put your finger on it.
There was something or rather someone that should be here, but you didn't know what or who. And your mind supplied Annie, but you weren't sure that's who you meant.
"Let's have some tea." Your grandmother says from behind you and you feel her soft hands come down on your shoulders to steer you through the familiar creative chaos and into the large kitchen at the back of the house.
The kitchen isn't spared from the madness, it rarely was. There are boxes upon boxes of cookies in different stages of being packaged all over the counter, dirty bowls and a measuring cup stacked in the sink, and a large opened bag of chocolate chips spilling over the flour covered kitchen island.
It wasn't unusual to find the kitchen or the house in a state of chaos, your grandmother always said that a house should look lived in and that the mess was part of the fun of any major project as long as you were responsible enough to clean it up.
"Bake sale?" You ask as you sit down in the breakfast nook, uttering the first words that you'd said to another human being in twenty hours.
The next breath that you inhale was supposed to be cleansing, but you can still feel a weight pressing down on your chest, the same one that settled in the moment everything happened with Darren.
You contemplate again how you're going to tell her that Darren is dead and was the reason why your parents died.
Damn it Darren.
"Mhmm." She hums, filling the well used red kettle. "Annie's mother practically cornered me in the supermarket yesterday and begged me to make cookies. I love Annie, but her mother needs someone to pull that stick out of her ass. It's been up there for so long that I'm sure it's rotten."
The creature crawls down from your shoulders and down your arm to sniff at one of the chocolate chip cookies nearest you. It hadn't eaten since…
Darren.
You wince slightly at the thought and hope that you hadn't created something that needed and craved human flesh. The last thing you wanted to unleash on the world was Audry two especially in the wake of Homelander.
Truthfully you were waiting for the guilt at killing your brother to come, but it never had and you wondered if it ever would.
Probably not. He deserved that, he killed our parents, he tried to kill me, he tried to kill Ben.
The thought of Ben again makes a lump form in the back of your throat. You didn't know what was happening to you only that you felt guilty for leaving him like that, for yelling at him to let you go, and just vanishing on him when he probably thought that you were going back to the apartment.
He doesn't know where I am. Maybe that's why he tried to call, because he got back to the apartment and couldn't find me there and he was worried. You press your lips together. Yeah. Worried. Right.
"Honey?" Your grandmother says in a soothing voice
You look up from the box of chocolate chip cookies that you didn't remember picking up. Even the creature is looking at you with an expression that you can only explain as worry.
"Yeah?" Your voice shakes slightly.
She's leaning back against the counter, arms crossed over her chest, head tilted slightly to the side, her beautiful grayed hair pulled up in an elegant bun, but in her eyes you can see genuine concern. "Fuck." She sighs after a minute.
You blink in surprise. It was the first time that you'd ever heard her say that word in your entire life.
"I shouldn't have left." She breathes. "I told Ben to look out for you. I told him, that little bastard was bound to show up again and what did he do? He left you at that plant shop alone with no protection!"
You'd only seen her really angry a handful of times in your lifetime. Like you, your grandmother often had a gentle disposition and didn't get angry unless the situation called for it.
I mean, Darren admitted to killing our parents and then got fucking ripped apart. But how does she know about any of that? I haven't told her…
"How did you know that he left me there? Did Ben call you?" You ask putting down the box of cookies.
An odd expression crosses her face, as if she's contemplating something. "No." She hesitates again. "I saw it."
"No." Your grandmother hesitates. "I saw it."
"You saw it?" You repeat, confused.
What's going on?
"Too late of course, but I'm a little rusty. I was able to warn Ben that Darren was coming back. That's how he got there so quickly or rather-" She shrugs sheepishly. "He got there in time to make sure that Darren didn't get you to forgive him. Which you shouldn't have at all, but I know he's always had a talent for manipulating you."
"What?"
Is she saying what I think she's saying?
Instead of explaining further your grandmother walks out of the kitchen, leaving the kettle behind on the stove and you in a state of utter confusion.
Is she saying that she can see the future? Because that would mean that she's a supe and there's only one supe in history that I know of that can do that. A supe that no one has seen in over forty years.
You can hear her open the door to the closet under the stairs and the sound of her sifting through all the junk that the two of you had shoved in there over the years instead of finding the right place to put it.
When she comes back into the kitchen, she's holding a giant cardboard file box that you'd never paid attention to each time you opened the closet to find something. Your eyes shift from the box to her still not comprehending exactly what she was saying.
"I probably should have told you this a while ago, but…" She trails off and nods her head at the box before turning back to the kettle on the stove that has begun to scream. "I kept putting it off."
The box is old, worn at the edges, and theres a musty black fabric beneath a collection of yellowed photographs. You pull out the one on top to examine it.
Ben is standing there in his full Soldier Boy regalia outside of Vought tower and the woman standing next to him is Soothsayer. The outfit she wore was familiar, a black-skin tight suit with a blind fold tied over her eyes.
Soothsayer was a supe who could see the future and who was apart of Payback, a supe that had vanished a year before the mission in Nicaragua and no one knew where she went. There were rumors that she'd died and that she'd been a Russian spy, but you'd never believed them. You'd heard Butcher talk about how he tried to find her when he was trying to figure out what happened to Soldier Boy, but he never had. Said that the trail went cold.
But now you knew where she went, because she was standing directly in front of you.
She's Soothsayer? Holy fuck that's why Ben kept accusing her of cheating in the poker game because he knew that she could see the future.
"You were Soothsayer?" You gasp. "But why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me?"
She continues to measure the tea leaves. "I didn't tell anyone."
"Grandpa didn't know? But he was alive when you were a supe?"
Your grandfather had never spoken about a history with supes that you remember.
"No." She turns to look at you, a hurt expression crossing over her face for a minute. "Well, I know that I said I was going to have tea, but if we're going to talk about this I'm going to need something a little bit stronger."
Your grandmother opens a cabinet under the stove an pulls out an enormous bottle of scotch. Truth be told you'd never seen her drink more than just a glass of wine, to see her like this was about as shocking as seeing a polar bear sunning itself on a Florida beach.
"Do you still want the blueberry tea or do you need something a little stronger?" She looks back over her shoulder at you as she pulls down a glass for herself.
"I think I need something stronger." You answer honestly.
Learning about everything Darren had done was one thing, but finding out that your grandmother used to be a famous supe and that she never told you about it was another thing. It was like looking at another person. You'd always loved your grandmother's gentle way, her care for her community and her family soft, but now you weren't sure you really knew who she was.
She sits down across from you and hands you a glass of the amber colored liquid. There's a heavy silence that hangs between the two of you as she tries to find a way to start. The photo of her and Ben is laying on top of what you realize is her uniform inside the box and she smiles down at the photo, just a little twitch at the corner of her lips.
"I met Ben when I was twenty three years old." She begins taking a sip from the glass. "Legend 'discovered' me. I had the injection of Compound V maybe two years before that, not when I was born, but I hadn't gotten popular. Other powers were much more flashy and by then there were so many heroes coming out of the woodwork that someone with the ability to see the future didn't seem as marketable."
There's something reflected in her blue eyes, the same eyes your father had, that you can't place. "I had just moved to New York, I had no money, and the way I was getting it was by pretending to be a fortune teller and betting on some sports events on the side. It wasn't hard to prove that I could see the future, the past was more difficult, but Legend somehow stumbled into my shop and figured out that I was a supe. And he didn't think I was too bad looking so he helped me get big."
"You pretended to be a fortune teller?"
She snorts into her glass. "Mhmm. People really will believe anything if they're desperate enough and back then there was so much turmoil going on with Russia that people were scared and wanted to feel comforted. My job provided some of that."
"But why did you walk away from it if you were such a big hero." You ask. "Everyone knew your name, you were-"
Your grandmother raises an eyebrow at you and you fall silent so she can continue. "When I got onto Payback that's when everything exploded for me, the films, the commercials, the ridiculous ads." She sighs. "That's also when I met Ben."
You take a sip from the glass in front of you, sputtering slightly. It was stronger than you were expecting. "And you two were-"
Please don't say dating, please don't say dating, please don't say…
"Friends. Just friends." Diana sits back against the back of the breakfast nook, sinking into the navy blue pillows. "But he is almost as charming now as he was then."
You cringe at the thought of Ben coming on to a younger version of your grandmother.
She taps her glass with her index finger deep in thought. "But I think that I was the only person that Ben actually talked to, the only person that he was comfortable being around."
"What do you mean?" You ask confused. "Didn't he talk to Countess and to Legend?"
Her expression hardens at the mention of Countess's name. "He didn't talk to her the way he talked to me. Ben is difficult, he always has been and I think that most of the people he meet him write him off as this asshole with a chauvinistic look on the world, but he's not. At least, not all the time. There are so many people that he's met that are never willing to take a chance on him. To trust that there is really something beneath all of that bravado."
It was what you had been thinking for the past week, that there was more to Ben than he was willing to let people see, but you were slowly realizing that Ben was letting you see those parts. In the quiet moments at your shared apartment when he sat with you while you read or made you laugh or walked you to and from work you saw another side of Ben that you never saw when he was around anyone else. The guilt rises again when you think of how you ran from him, how you turned your back and left him standing there to clean up your mess.
I shouldn’t have done that, but it was all just so overwhelming and I didn't want to talk to anyone.
"I think that Ben is the most loyal friend I ever had. No one ever seems to believe me when I say that. That we were just friends, but nothing happened between us."
"You didn't date? Or sleep together?" You ask cautiously. It was difficult to imagine Ben being friends with a woman and not having a sexual relationship with her.
Well. We're friends, but that's different.
The last thing you wanted to think about was Ben and your grandmother having sex.
I would need so much therapy after that. You sigh. Yeah, because after all the shit I've been through and found out about my life in the last twenty hours, the knowledge that Ben fucked my grandmother is what's going to push me over the edge.
"No." She shakes her head with a small smile. "About a week after I met Ben, I was running late to a movie shoot and I stepped off the crosswalk without looking. There was a car coming and I didn't see it. Ironic isn't it?" She laughs at herself. "I can see the future and I didn't see a car coming, but your grandfather did and he grabbed the back of my jacket and yanked me onto the sidewalk, saved my life. And the second my eyes locked with his I saw our future. I saw our wedding, our first house, I saw our son take his first steps and I saw how much I would love him and how much he would love me." She clears her throat for a minute, her fingers tighten on the glass, and her gaze drops to the wedding ring on her left hand. “The future is never set in stone, it’s fluid. It morphs and shapes with your decisions, but in the future I saw, I was so happy. And I didn’t want to lose that.”
Your grandfather had passed a few years ago, but you knew it weighed on her everyday. She had spent the week after he died in her room not saying anything to anyone. And sometimes she'd look out the window into the backyard with an odd expression, but you knew that meant she was thinking of him.
Growing up you'd seen how in love the two of them were, more so than your parents. Seen the flowers your grandfather always brought home just because he was thinking of her, watched him do little things around the house without being asked, saw how they never walked away angry from one another, and seen the soppy expression he'd get when he watched your grandmother move around the kitchen baking with a grace that you'd never possessed.
You reach across the table to touch her hand and she takes it gratefully.
"I didn't want to tell him that I was a supe, and at the beginning I thought I could balance it all, but then Ben started dating Countess." She takes another sip from her glass. "She hated me."
"What? Why?" You ask. The creature crawls across the table to sniff at the glass in front of you, before it snorts and falls into your lap, curling into a ball.
"Countess was a bitch." Your grandmother says mirthlessly, her expression hardening. "She wanted to possess Ben completely. Only loved how famous he was, how popular it made her, and he threw himself at her feet, in his own way, not understanding that love didn’t look that way. He’s never had a good example of it in his life. And she never understood that Ben and I were just friends. By then I had been dating your grandfather for a few months and things were getting serious. It was about a year before everything that happened in Nicaragua."
She presses her lips together as if remembering what happened to Ben there. "She was jealous, possessive, and she came to me one night. Ben was out of town for a film so she knew we wouldn’t be interrupted. She threatened to tell your grandfather who I really was and threatened to kill him.” Her jaw sets. “My powers were never really as offensive as hers were. And she said that Ben wouldn’t ever protect me over her because he loved her and would do anything to make her happy. So I left and I never looked back.”
And here I thought I couldn't hate Countess any more than I did for what she did to Ben.
“You didn’t talk to him ever again?” You wonder out loud.
She left without telling him goodbye?
“There was the occasional phone call. Sometimes Ben would ask me to see who was going to win a ball game or something so he could make a few bucks. He stopped by to say hi a few times because he was in the neighborhood. One time he brought your father a baseball glove that was way too big for a one year old.” She snorts, the memory flashing in her eyes. “I always thought Ben would be a good dad some day. But I think seeing your father was when Ben realized how much he wanted to have kids. And I think seeing the way your grandfather treated me made him start to feel conflicted about Countess. But he respected that I walked away, he saw that I was happy.”
“But what about Nicaragua?"
A dark look crosses her face followed by something that looks suspiciously like guilt. “I saw what they were going to do to him.”
“What? But why didn't you tell him what they were planning? Why didn't you-"
"I tried." She snaps, shoulders tense, but then they drop. "I called Ben, but Stan answered. By then your father was turning two, your grandfather had opened up his practice, and Stan threatened me, he knew where we were and knew everything about us. So I kept my mouth shut and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”
You could feel your heart breaking for her.
Ben was her best friend and she had to sit by and watch them do that to him. She saw what they were going to do and they were going to kill her for it, kill my family for it.
The anger that surges in your chest makes the creature in your lap stir and grow a few inches, but you tamp it down before it gets bigger than a small dog.
“Does Ben know?” You ask her to distract yourself.
You didn't want Ben to hate your grandmother for this, didn't want him to hate her for something that wasn't her fault.
She nods. “Yes. I told him everything.”
“When?”
“The moment I saw him in your hospital room. I couldn’t keep it in any longer. I wasn't expecting him to be there, but it all poured out of me. I was so surprised to see him there. I hadn't seen a future where he came back."
“Was he mad?”
I mean… he didn't seem mad when I woke up, not to mention he was upset when she left to come back to Illinois.
“Not at me.” She shakes her head. “He knew how much I wanted a normal life and how much I loved your grandfather. He doesn’t blame me for any of it.”
“Good. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
The glass in front of you is still more than half-full but you don't want to risk another sip of what you're sure is gasoline packaged to look like Scotch. Your grandmother reaches to pour herself another glass.
“I didn’t want to until you were ready.”
“And when would that be?”
Your grandmother shrugs. “Maybe on my deathbed.”
You weren't angry for her not telling you, more surprised, but now that you knew everything about her it was hard to see her the same way you had.
 You snort. “And no one knew?”
“Your dad figured it out.”
“How? When?”
“The moment you made that strawberry plant grow from your high chair.” She shakes her head with a smile. “It skipped a generation. Don’t know why, but you got it all somehow.”
“I was never injected?”
“No. That was a lie your father created. He knew that your grandfather didn't know and he knew that I didn't want your grandfather to know."
“Darren thought I was.”
“I know.”
At the mention of your brother's name, you watch her expression harden and she takes another swig from the glass in front of her, not flinching as the liquid goes down her throat.
“Did you see everything that happened?” You ask in a small voice.
You still weren't 100% sure how it was her powers worked, but you figured that she was able to see some of what Darren did and what he said.
“Yes.”
“You heard everything Darren said?"
“Yes.”
You chew the inside of your cheek for a minute hoping that she didn't take it as hard as you did. “Did you know that he killed them?”
“No.” She breathes, rolling the glass between her hands for a moment. “The night they died, I got a vision a few minutes before the car ran off the road. I was the one who called the police and who told them where to look, but I never saw that it was Darren or that it was anyone causing the accident. All I saw was the three of you in the car. I should have known.” Her voice breaks.
“It’s not your fault.” You squeeze her hand.
“And it’s not yours either.” She squeezes your hand back.
The memories are beginning to float up from the recesses of your mind and your teeth clench together as you try to keep them at bay.
“I know.” You breathe. The memory of the ruined shop flashes through your head. “I didn’t know that I could do something like that.” You gently touch your healed right arm and glance at the creature that is nibbling on the edge of the cardboard box with its sharp splinter-like teeth. “I feel so different and I don’t know how to go back to the way I was.”
“I don’t think you ever will.”
"Really?"
The thought was unwelcome. You were hoping that all of this was going to blow over, but you knew it wouldn't. Your powers had changed. There was an energy that thrummed in your veins now, stretching out of the house to the plants that grew in the garden. You could feel them all if you concentrated.
She frowns. “When you told me that you were working for Butcher I was worried about you getting involved in the supe world. I didn’t want that life for you, didn’t want you to suffer the way I did-“
“Was it really that bad?"
“Not all the time, just at the end. But I think that’s why I loved your grandfather so much. Because he was different than all the supes. He was down to earth, not just normal but-“ She shrugs. “I think Compound V does something to our minds, makes them more susceptible and when you’re surrounded by people using their powers and thinking that they’re gods it’s easy to lose who you are. I was glad I left when I did."
“Great." You huff, thinking about how your powers had grown exponentially since you killed your brother. It was scaring you to think that you would reach a point where you acted like Homelander, where you saw yourself as a god and killed anyone who stood in your way.
As tired as the stereotype of you only being able to make the flowers grow, you liked doing that. You liked healing plants, tending to them, and helping them grow. For you it had never been about using your powers the way that you had to kill Elijah and your brother and had always been about spreading a little more joy and love like your grandmother did with her kindness in her community.
Your mind flashes back to the first night that Ben stayed with you in your apartment and he'd asked you why you worked for Butcher and told you that he thought you "didn't fit."
Before you hadn't. You knew that. You weren't intimidating to look at or fueled by revenge or had a bone to pick with supes. You'd joined because you thought it was the right thing to do and because you wanted to be closer with Annie. She had been so involved in the supe world and you'd felt like you were losing your best friend. When in reality being at "Please Don't Die" was the only thing that felt natural for you.
You could feel yourself changing and you weren't sure that you wanted to and you weren't sure if you were changing for the better. Deep down you still felt like you, despite everything Darren had revealed, but your powers were greater than you'd thought they could be.
“No.” She squeezes your hand pulling you out of your head. “I don’t see you losing yourself in this.”
“You’ve seen-“ Your eyes widen.
“The future yeah.” Her lips twitch up at the ends in a smile. “It is what I do.”
“That’s so weird.”
You hadn't meant to say it, but you really didn't want to know too much about your future.
Well, not all that much. Maybe just a little.
“You of all people have no right to judge what’s weird. Not with Godzilla sitting in your lap.”
"Godzilla" yawns, flashing a mouthful of his pointy teeth, before settling back down on your thighs.
You smile for the first time in twenty hours, but then it drops. “I don’t like losing control. I thought I knew who I was but now I don’t-“ The emotions were bubbling up again, chest tightening, and lungs beginning to gasp for air. “I don’t know who I am anymore or what I am or what I can do and-“
“There’s nothing wrong with not being in control.”
“But what if I hurt someone? What if I kill-“ You body shakes as you think about all the important people in your life, Annie, Hughie, Butcher, Kimiko, MM, Frenchie- and then your mind stutters on Ben.
“Your powers are growing and there’s nothing to be afraid of or ashamed of. If you’re afraid of them it won’t get easier for you. You have to embrace the fear to see the lights that line the path through it.”
"I killed Darren, I killed Elijah-"
"Not because you lost control. You did it because you were protecting yourself and protecting your friends."
"But-"
"Who is it that you're scared of hurting? Annie?" Her expression turns sympathetic. "Annie is a supe and understands what it's like to lose control. None of us are in control all the time and it's ridiculous to believe that you won't lose control at least once."
Your throat clenches tightly, because when she asked the question you didn't see Annie's face, you saw Ben's. You knew that it was probably ridiculous to worry about hurting a guy with a nuclear reactor stuffed in his chest or a guy who'd been through every torture known to man, but you were. And you weren't entirely sure if you meant hurting him with just your powers.
Tears crest and fall down your cheeks as you sit there, throat thickening. "I don't want to hurt Ben."
"He's a little more indestructible than us sweetie." She cracks a smile, but you can't smile back and you don't answer because you're unsure how to.
She sits back against the breakfast nook and sighs, examining your face and slowly realizes what you mean. "Ben is complicated. He always has been. I like to think that most of it, is his father's fault. Has he told you anything about him?"
You shake your head.
"He was a dick. Made Ben think that he was a disappointment his whole life. I don't think that Ben has had someone love him unconditionally since his mother died. And loving Countess only made it worse for him. Her love was jealous, possessive, and I don't think that he's really come to terms with what real love should look like." She lets out a breath, tapping her index finger against the glass. "I never saw him as more than a friend, but I do love him. It's not a crime to love him."
"I don't love him." You say it immediately.
"Why not?"
"What?" You sputter. "I don't know what you're-"
"Tell me why you don't love him." Your grandma says methodically, as if she's trying to talk you through it.
"Because I-" The pressure was back in the back of your throat and you couldn't quite meet her eye. "Because-" You scramble for the answer, trying your darndest to keep your heart from clenching in your chest. "I want what you and grandpa had, what Annie and Hughie have, and what my parents had. A strong relationship with someone who sees all my flaws, the little parts, and the darkness and still choses to fall in love with me anyway. I don't want just one night I want every night. I want something real and Ben has said countless times that he-"
"So you've talked about it with Ben?" She raises an eyebrow.
"Only because he kept trying to sleep with me and I told him that I didn't want to have sex with him." You reply exasperated.
"You don't?"
"Gran!"
"What? He's attractive."
"It doesn't matter. None of it does. Because Ben has said that he doesn't have relationships, that he doesn't care about feelings, or emotions." Saying the words that Ben had told you countless times made something inside begin to shrivel up and die. "And I do. And I don't want to manipulate him into being something he's not or force him into a relationship that's doomed from the beginning. Ben is Ben. He's not changing or-"
"He has." She interrupts.
"What?"
"The Ben I saw in your hospital room is not the one I knew." She says it so matter of fact that makes it hard to breathe. "And neither was the one that I saw in your apartment when I stayed with you. I mean he is in essence Ben, but-"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"He is changing. Not completely, but he's acting differently than when he was with Countess. I mean, I saw all the things he did for her. The way he was around her."
"Why does that matter?"
"Because he loved her."
The words make your heart seize in your chest. "Ben doesn't love me. He's my roommate and my friend-" It was the same thing that you kept telling yourself on repeat to beat back the other feelings that you hadn't quite identified yet. "And he's told me that he doesn't want a relationship and that I should try to meet other people."
That last part was a lie, but you honestly didn't know where she was going with this conversation or why it was getting so hard to breathe.
"Have you thought that maybe Ben doesn't want to love you because he's scared?"
"He doesn't love me and Ben isn't afraid of anything."
"He is. It might not look the same way on him as it does on everyone else, but if you pay close enough attention you can catch it." She hesitates. "And I think if you pay attention to you, you'll see what it is that you're afraid of too."
What does she mean? What the hell am I afraid of? Ben isn't afraid of anything, he's practically shouted that from the mountaintops like Julie Andrews.
"I already told you what I'm afraid of."
"I'm not talking about you hurting someone honey. There's something else that you refuse to admit to yourself because you're scared." She smiles sadly at you. "You should though, because when you embrace it, what comes after is really beautiful." There's a far off look in her eyes and you realize that she'd seen something further ahead that she wasn't letting on.
"And it's all I want for you. To be happy." Your grandmother stands from the other side of the booth "I think you need some rest. You drove all night long and I doubt you got any sleep. And I have to package all of these before Annie's mother calls down the four horsemen of the Apocalypse on me."
"Wait-"
"Please sweetie." She lays her hand down on your arm. "I think you'll feel a little better about all of this when you've had some rest." Her fingers raise to push back some of the hair that's fallen forward into your eyes. "Hmm?"
You didn't want to rest, you wanted to talk about this, but you knew better than to argue with her. Not to mention she was right, you hadn't slept.
"And when you wake up I'll make your favorite for dinner, alright?" She smiles, but there's something behind it that you can't place.
"Okay."
And this time you don't argue with her. You go up the worn staircase that you have your entire life and collapse onto your bed, wondering exactly what it was she saw your future hold, and what it is that you won't admit to yourself.
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Soldier Boy POV
There was no light in the apartment save from the burning red tip of Ben's blunt and the bluish glow emanating from the tv that caught the dips and sharp edges of his face. But it was nothing more than background noise.
His hand absentmindedly stroked along Bean's back, his eyes focused on the ceiling above the couch. He hadn't moved in hours. It had been over twenty four hours since everything that happened at the plant shop, since you'd summoned a creature from the depths of the store, since Darren had thrown Ben through the plate glass windows of the bakery, and since Ben had last seen you.
He didn't understand why you hadn't let him take you back to the apartment and why it was that you had to leave. Ben hadn't liked the feeling that stabbed him in the chest when you turned your back on him and ran away. He'd felt the urge to comfort you the way he'd watched Hughie do for Annie in the car a week ago, but you hadn't let him.
Instead all he'd done is stood there and watched you run, still covered in dust, rubble, and blood. Worse was you hadn't let him check you for injuries and Ben hated the thought that you were hurt somewhere and he didn't know where you were.
You were so much more fragile than he was. He was realizing that more every day, was acutely aware of it after everything that happened with Elijah. Honestly, sitting there in the hospital with you laying there asleep with nothing that he could do, but wait for you to wake up had been agony. Not to mention that looking at the bruises around your throat, over your eye, and the bright green cast only made him feel worse. He'd never felt so helpless in his entire life and he hated it. Because Ben wasn't some helpless damsel in distress, he was a man and a man shouldn't wait on anyone or feel out of control, or at least, that's what he told himself.
Ben hears someone walk down the hallway outside the apartment and he perks up to listen, hoping that it's you finally coming home. Ben's mind stutters on the word "home." He'd lived many places in his life, apartments that felt more like way-stations, and the drafty cold mansion back in Philadelphia where he grew up, but neither felt like home. And although he hated how small your apartment was, it was the first place that Ben liked living in. He was starting to understand the word home.
But the feet keep moving past the apartment and Ben sinks into the couch cushions. Even Bean seems to be disappointed. "It's alright buddy." Ben mutters. "She'll come back."
But he wasn't sure.
Ben also wasn't used to feeling this way. It was close to the way that he felt when he went to Boston and was sitting in that damn hotel room waiting for something to happen and he still didn't understand what it meant. He didn't understand why he couldn't stand it that you weren't back yet. It made him feel like a woman waiting for her husband to get home from work when he told her that he was "running late." He'd tried to distract himself by looking at some possible prospects on Tinder, but just like the week after you'd come home from the hospital and just like the date he had in Boston, no one held any appeal.
His mind was awake and roaming around, pacing back and forth. The blunt was supposed to help, but it hadn't.
His phone chirps and Ben picks it up to look at the screen, but it's not you, it's Jake.
Jake: I know that I'm not your favorite person, but thank you for what you did.
Ben huffs and turns his phone face down on the couch once more. "What a fucking pussy."
When you left Ben had realized that Jake was still inside the building and as much as he wanted race after you, he understood that you'd be even more upset if you'd killed Jake. So Ben had tromped back through the building and found him trapped beneath some rubble. Jake was okay, just unconscious, but Ben had carried him out and put him on the sidewalk before he high tailed it out of there. The last thing that he wanted was to be caught with a shredded body outside a ruined building.
I didn't do it for him. I did it for her. Ben thinks to himself, looking down at the text message.
As much as he hated the thought of saving your future boyfriend, he didn't want to see what it did to you if you found out that you killed Jake, so he'd done it to avoid watching you cry again.
Ben didn't understand why he hated watching you cry.
Women cry. They're damn emotional all the time. He tries to reason with himself taking a puff from the blunt pinched between his thumb and forefinger. And she fucking cries way too much.
The image of you crying outside of the shop in the wake of everything that happened pricks something under his ribcage. Fuck.
Ben didn't feel remorse for what happened, well, the only thing he regretted was not getting there sooner and getting to fuck Darren up himself. When Diana had called him to tell him that Darren was coming, Ben had practically ripped the apartment door off in his haste to get back to you. He hadn’t wanted to leave you at the plant shop, but Butcher had told Ben, that he had a possible location for Darren, but it came up empty and Ben had been at Butcher's apartment chewing him out for sending him on a fucking wild goose chase.
It only made Ben more angry to allow Darren to speak to you, but he was trying to let you handle it even though he wanted to handle him. But it had brought him an unholy amount of joy to throw Darren in front of that minivan and to watch that creature tear him apart while the final whitish blue pulses of electricity jumped and crackled down the street making the streetlights shower sparks everywhere.
But Ben was more upset that Darren had been able to land a few hits on you before you killed him.
Ben remembered the giant lizard that crawled out of what was left of "Please Don't Die" and felt his lips quirk up into a smile. As much as he hated the entire situation, Ben couldn't help but feel a little surge of pride at what you'd done to your brother. He'd never seen you look so powerful standing there in the street, your eyes glowing a brilliant green, arms outstretched, and the ground trembling around you as the world begged to be unleashed.
Of course he'd been just as surprised as you were at the fact that you'd healed your broken arm. He wasn't sure if you'd noticed it yet, but you looked different too. There weren't as many lines on your face and your hair was more springy, the few silver hairs that Ben had noticed in passing were no longer there.
He wasn't sure what that meant, but there was something that felt suspiciously like hope tingling in his stomach, hope that you weren't as fragile anymore and hope that it meant you wouldn't die.
When Diana had told Ben that her husband had died, he saw the pain in her eyes when she said it, saw her relieving the memory, and for some reason as soon as she said that he was dead, the first thing Ben thought about was you. Ben hadn't considered his inability to age as much in the past, hadn't cared about outliving anyone before. Seeing Countess as an older woman had made him more aware of it. Looking at the woman who he once thought he loved, had showed him what that was like. Not that he had a problem with daring older women, Ben always thought that women really did get better with age, but it was what came next that Ben wasn't fond of.
And for some reason thinking that one day he'd wake up and see the marks of age on your face or one day he'd wake up and he wouldn't be able to annoy you or hear you yell at him made his chest tight.
Ben takes another hit of his blunt. The longer he sat there the more then unnatural feeling stirred in the pit of his stomach, thrumming through his veins, the feeling that he was trying to avoid. He thought that the joint would calm him down, but he found himself jumping at every creak and footstep in the apartment building, perking up each time and hoping that it was you coming home.
He didn't know where you were. You hadn't answered any of his texts or calls and Ben was ashamed at how many times that he had tried to call you.
Get a fucking grip. He'd thought to himself when he typed out another text message to send you, stopping himself from sending it.
But he'd been so desperate to hear from you that he'd actually gone to talk to Annie who seemed upset that she couldn't get ahold of you either. When Hughie and Annie had seen how upset Ben had been, Hughie had laid his hand on Ben's arm and told him not to worry. Ben had yelled at him that he "wasn't fucking worried and to mind his own business" and had shaken off Hughie's comforting hand before stomping out of the shared apartment.
No one else seemed to be as concerned about finding you. Butcher, MM, and Frenchie were all deeply involved in trying to figure out the cover-up for what happened outside the plant shop. By some miracle no one had caught a picture of your face, but there was little they could do about Darren's body that had been strewn across the street. Annie was having to deal with the repercussions at work, trying to handle what the news was calling a "super villain threat."
Personally, Ben thought that since they froze Homelander, the Seven looked weak and Ben believed that the superhero team that represented America shouldn't look weak. Of course before Ben had also thought that they looked like a bunch of pussies and again felt himself sink deeper into the couch when he thought about what his supposed son had become.
He shakes off the feelings he has about it and his thoughts turn back inevitably to you.
Ben wasn't used to thinking about someone as much as he thought of you, but each time he settled back into the apartment and you weren't there he was hyperaware of how quiet it was.
Maybe I should call Diana. She might know where she is.
As soon as Ben thinks that, his phone begins to ring, but Ben doesn't bother to look at who it is before he answers it. 
"Hello?" Ben huffs out a breath of smoke that hangs in the air in front of his face, catching in the bluish light coming from the television.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The voice on the other side of the line yells at him.
"Di?"
"Yes it's me. Who did you think it was? Santa Clause?" Your grandmother snarks.
"Why are you calling me and why the fuck are you so mad? What did I do?" Ben answers slightly annoyed.
As much as you got under his skin, your grandmother had been the same way. He actually thought that it was amusing that even before he figured out that she was your grandmother that he had often compared you to her in his mind. You had the same mannerisms, the same defiant and stubborn attitude that drove Ben up the wall, and you were just as beautiful as she was.
Ben was okay with admitting that he was attracted to you. To him that felt normal, it was the other feelings that he was conflicted about, the ones that he'd never felt before stirring in his chest that made him feel "too emotional" and "woman-like."
Truthfully, Ben was sure that if your grandmother had given him a shot that maybe he would have felt that way about her too. She was the only person that Ben actually trusted in the 80's, the only person that was brave enough to call him out on all his shit. You did that now. But he liked her husband also, so Ben was content with letting her go. He liked how happy that Henry, your grandfather, had made her. He knew that she wasn't happy as a supe and seeing her so happy and in love made Ben feel something that was close to happiness.
And it was seeing the way the two of them were together made Ben wonder if what he had with Countess was the same thing. Because he did have feelings about her that were different, but each time he went to visit Diana and saw your father playing on her lap he felt that there was something missing in his life.
It was the same way that he thought something was missing when you weren't in the apartment, but Ben hadn't realized that yet.
"Because I don't understand what the hell you're doing!" Diana replies and Ben honestly doesn't know why she's angry with him.
"About what?"
"My granddaughter."
Ben sits up the blunt in his fingertips forgotten. "Is she there with you?"
"Yes." Her voice softens for a moment.
Ben relaxes and leans back onto the couch, sighing in relief. "Good.  That's good." Relief swelled in his chest when he thought about you staying with her, safe.
That's what she meant when she said that she wanted to go home. Home is with her grandmother. Ben stopped the next thought before he could go there.
The thought that home wasn't with him.
Ben was trying not to think about that or think about you hating him. He didn't think you did, well, didn't think you did anymore. At first it really was touch and go, but now he was almost eighty percent sure after you'd told him more than once that you weren't afraid of him and didn’t hate him that you sometimes wanted him around.
"No, not good."
"What do you mean? Is she okay?" Ben's grip on the phone tightens so hard that he's sure that he hears the screen cracking.
"No."
"What happened?" Ben's voice is a growl, the feelings of relief evaporating as soon as they had begun to bloom in his chest. He mentally calculated how long it would take him to get to you.
"Her entire life fucking fell apart and where are you? Not here!"
Oh. Ben relaxed a little bit.
"I don't need to be there." He says on an exhale of smoke.
"Yes you do!" Diana presses.
"No, I don't. She a big girl she doesn't need me there, she's-" Ben takes a puff from the joint.
“If you were any denser you’d be a Bundt cake Benjamin!” She says exasperated.
"What the fuck are you talking about doll? I am not-"
“Let me guess." She interrupts and Ben can imagine her tapping her foot. He hated when she did that. "You’re moping around smoking a blunt on the couch probably with a glass of something that you're hoping to numb whatever the hell it is you're feeling."
Ben's eyes shift to the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table that he hadn't touched in a few minutes.
“I’m not fucking moping and stop spying on me!” He snaps back at Diana.
He hated how well she knew him. She was his best friend in the 80's through all the shit, she had seen him at his worst and at his best too many times to count.
“I don’t have to use my powers to know what you’re doing. I know you Ben.”
"Sorry to disappoint you sweetheart.” Ben grits his teeth, temper flaring hot. “But if you know me as well as you fucking say you do then you then you know that this is-“
“You avoiding your feelings by acting aloof and brooding like a fucked up version of Mr. Darcy.” She interrupts.
She certainly hasn't changed.
“I am not avoiding-“
“She needs you here Ben.” Diana stamps her foot, the same way you do when Ben pisses you off, and Ben can hear it.
“She doesn’t need me! She said that she wanted to go home, that she didn’t want to be here with me! I tried to-“ Ben shouts back standing up. It was the exact thing that he'd been thinking for the past twenty four hours, that you didn’t need him and that you didn't want to be any where near him.
That last thought made an uncomfortable sensation prickle in his gut when he thought it, because all it did was remind him of how you acted when the two of you first met, when you didn't want him to live with you and tried your darndest to make him go away.
He didn’t want to and he wasn't sure why that was.
“Try harder.” Diana interrupts him again and frankly it was pissing him off.
Ben clenches his jaw. “I think that you’ve confused me with someone else baby.”
“Don’t you 'baby' me Benjamin! We both know that you’re doing what you always do when things get hard for you.”
“And what’s that?”
“You pretend not to care and shut out everyone who tries to care for you. Not to mention you drown yourself in drugs, booze, and women.”
“She doesn’t care about me!” He spits.
“She does!” Diana snaps back. “And believe it or not she needs you here and she wants you here.”
"But-"
"Ben please." It was the first time that he'd heard Diana sound softer and almost pleading since the conversation started. "Don't do this to her. She's worth more than Countess and all those other women you've fallen into bed with."
"Do you really think I don't know that?" He roars. The answer surprises himself. "Do you think I don't know that she's different?"
Wait what?
"If you know that, then why aren't you here?"
He hesitates.
Everything you said to him the night of the party comes roaring back. You looking beautiful in a dress that made his throat tight, and you telling him that you just wanted to be friends and that you understood that he wasn't the type of guy to have relationships. He didn't understand why it stung a bit when you said that, but it had.
Ben thinks about the week that the two of you spent together after Diana went home, when he tried his best to take care of you, distract you from everything that happened with his movies, and would sit with you and try to make you laugh. He'd never wanted to take care of someone before.
Not to mention he kind of liked the way you laughed. He wouldn’t admit that to anyone, but each time you did, it made him want to laugh too. That had never happened to him before. But he wanted to make you laugh to forget everything that happened with Elijah. His fist clenches when he thinks of exactly what Elijah tried to do to you and it makes him feel so mad that he feels close to spontaneously combusting. Ben might not be the best role model when it came to women, but he couldn’t imagine the type of man who would force himself on someone else.
It had made him angry when he thought that you were suggesting that he would try something when he first moved in, because he wasn't that type of man.
Ben was trying to be better for you. He wasn't admitting that, but he really was trying to be better. He didn't understand why. You'd told him countless times that you didn’t want to be with him, that you wanted to be with someone else like Jake.
Ben frowns when he thinks about the man he'd pulled from the rubble of the shop. And again thinks to himself that you should be with someone different, someone who was a supe and could understand you. Ben had seen how difficult it was for Diana when she was keeping her supe life a secret from your grandfather and he didn't want you to have to do that with someone.
"Because I'm not-" Ben begins to say, but he holds his tongue. It was too honest, too raw, too unlike him to admit this to anyone.
Because I'm not this guy. Because I'm not the one she wants. Because I'm not some knight on a white horse. Because she's everything right with the world and I'm just a fucking asshole who sleeps on her couch.
"Ben." Diana breathes and he can practically hear her pinching the bridge of her nose. "In all the years I've known you, you've never done what you did for her with anyone else. You carried her out of that warehouse, you stayed with her in the hospital even after she woke up, you took care of her when she came home, you protected her from Darren. You can't ignore all those things."
"I'm not ignoring them. She's my friend." The word sours in his mouth as he says it. "And she would have done the same thing for me." He knew it was true.
She's a good person and she wouldn't let me chase her away if any of that shit happened to me and I told her to leave me alone.
"Yes she would. Because she cares about you." Diana sighs.
"She doesn't."
"Why don't you believe me?"
"Because she's told me what she wants!" Ben shouts so loudly he can feel the room shaking. "She wants to be friends-“
"Because she doesn't think that you want a relationship you nitwit!"
"I don't." Ben spits the words before he can stop them, but as he does something tightens at the base of his throat.
"How is it that it's been forty fucking years and you're still able to dance on the grave of my last nerve?"
Ben chuckles. "I missed you too sweetheart."
She sighs into the phone again making it crackle in Ben's ear. "She needs you.” Diana repeats. “And I think you need her too.”
His temper was flaring again, the thoughts that his father pressed into him surging up before he can stop the words. “I don’t need anyone. I’m Sol-“
“If you say that you’re Soldier Boy, I’m going to reach through this phone and slap you silly.” She snaps. “And you do need her, but you’re still just too stubborn to admit it.”
“I-“
“Ben I know that everything that happened with Countess was fucked up, but my granddaughter she-“ Diana pauses before she changes the thought.  “You say that you know she’s different, but right now you’re treating her the same way you treat all those other women.”
“I’m not-“
“My granddaughter has decided you’re important to her and once that’s happened it’s hard to make her let go. You saw the way she was with Darren and that guy was a manipulative asshole. Imagine what she thinks of you.”
“I-“
“Stop making excuses!”
“You didn’t even hear what I was going to say!” Ben shouts.
“And I don’t need to! Think what you want Ben but if you’d stop acting so stubborn and so ridiculously blind to what’s right in front of you. I promise that what comes next is worth the risk.”
“Don’t go all fucking mystical on me doll.”
“And don’t go all macho- no feelings asshole on me! So stop being so damn stubborn, get on a plane and get your ass here.” She retorts. “Don’t fuck this up Benjamin because if you do I’ll fuck you up.”
The line goes dead.
Ben sat there for a minute in the silence still holding the phone up to his ear, listening to what your grandmother said to him ring around in his head for a second.
No one ever spoke to him that way. In fact, Ben had never allowed anyone to speak to him the way that she did, well, not until you came along. You reminded him so much of her that it was astounding and he wasn't going to admit that maybe it's why he liked being around you so much.
Ben frowns at what Diana said, thinking about the unusual feelings that were swirling in the pit of his stomach. He felt wrong and the feelings were odd for him. He hadn't felt anything remotely like this ever in his life, not even for Countess.
And although Ben refused to be afraid of anything, the feelings he was having scared him. He didn’t understand and he wasn't sure that he wanted to. He wasn't sure that he wanted to see where this ended up. He felt like he was in too deep.
As much as he wanted to go to you like Diana ordered him to, he wasn't sure that he should. Something was holding him back, digging it's heels in and refusing to budge.
But why do I feel like-
His phone rings and he doesn't look at the caller ID when he picks up, expecting it to be Diana again, yelling at him.
"Di I-"
But it's not Diana.
"Hello Ben. It's nice to hear your voice again." The familiar voice says, sounding calm and collected.
"What the fuck do you want?" Ben snarls.
 "I thought it was time the two of us had a chat.”
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A/N: At this point Diana is really just trying to give both Ben and the reader the kick in the pants they need. And yes I know another cliffhanger, but you know you love it. 🤭😉 We are quickly reaching the end of this series, but that means the confession scene is coming and I am so excited about it!!
As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know. 😊
Taglist:
@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard
@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307
@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40
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@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles
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@livya99 @cherrygirl444
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planetpedri · 2 days ago
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The story of us — Lamine Yamal.
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Pairing: Lamine Yamal x Flick!Reader
Summary: When you and Lamine first met, it was because of a simple mistake. It was sweet and cute, and now you were faced with the task of telling your father about your relationship, or, well, convincing Lamine to agree to it.
Word count: 1.6k+
Disclaimer/s: Outfit read is wearing is in the first pic! Fluff , reader is Hansi Flick’s daughter , teasing , banter , ect.
A/N: Hi! So i’m unfortunately obsessed with the coaches daughter trope. This is ESPECIALLY dedicated to 2/3 @halfwayhearted and 1/3 dedicated to @sakashq . I love you both. Sorry that I gave you towards the end..
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When your dad said dress formally… he wasn’t very specific. A dozen dresses and skirts laid out on your bed, each one a different level ranging from casual to fancy. Exhaling a long, annoyed breath, you tap your foot against the wooden floorboard.
Your door clicking open had you groaning. “Dad—“
“This is not.. the bathroom.” A boy’s voice says slowly. Whipping around you are met with a tall, dark, and.. oh lord he was cute.
Your eyebrow lifts teasingly. “Really? What was your first clue?” She recognized him—Lamine. You had known the names of every single Barcelona player, your father made sure of that.
The boy laughs lightly, his head dipping down as a light blush spreads across his cheeks. “Funny.. So—” He trails off, his eyes trailing over the clothes spread across your bed.
“Hold on! I’ll give you directions to the bathroom, but first,“ You step aside, “help me pick? I’m having a bit of trouble choosing.”
Lamine meets your eyes, silently asking for permission to take a closer look. You give him a short nod, your lip curling slightly. He takes a few steps forward, standing at your side and thinks for a moment, taking a few glances at you. “You’re wearing silver jewelry?”
You hum, “yup!”
“Then, the pink top with the white skirt.” He nods to himself. as if to assure himself of the choice.
“Perfect.” You clap your hands together. Grabbing the set, you turn towards him. “Bathroom is literally two doors back, on the left side.”
Lamine laughs, “I overshot?”
“Yes, Lamine, you did.”
His name leaving your lips not only had a weird feeling growing in his stomach, it also had his eyebrows pulling together. “You know my name?”
Your eyes move from side to side, “uh… yeah? My dad is about to be your coach, is he not?”
Lamine stumbles over his words, “well—I—okay. True. He never told us your name, though.” He cocks his head to the side with a grin.
You tell him your name and he tests it out on his tongue, hating the way he loved how it rolled off so easily. “That’s a cool name.” Lamine internally slaps himself. Cool? Seriously?
You clasp a hand over your mouth, hiding the smile that almost accompanied a laugh at the painful look that crossed his face. Removing your hand, you nudge your head to the door. “Bathroom?”
His eyes widen, “uh, yep! Yeah, thank you! Again.”
“You didn’t thank me the first time.”
“Right.”
Lamine gives you two thumbs up, his nervous smile falling instantly. A small giggle bubbles in your throat and he takes that as his cue to leave, fast.
When you finish dressing, you slip on your small heels and exit your bedroom. The dining room was packed full of people when you arrived, taking you a bit by surprise. While you searched the room for your parents, your sisters hadn’t come, too busy with their lives and leaving you all alone—you stumble into the back of someone.
“Oh shit—“ You hiss, “i’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” the mans voice was familiar, as if you heard it only ten minutes ago.
Great.
“Wow! Humiliating ourselves in front of each other twice in ten minutes, good for us.” You pat his shoulder, eyes drifting to the people beside him who were observing the two of you curiously.
Héctor Fort, Alejandro Balde, and Pau Cubarsí. Wow! You just humiliated yourself in front of so many people. Great going.
“Uh, this is Flick’s daughter.” Lamine explains, “long story. Don’t ask.” He adds when he received more questioning looks.
You give them a short wave, introducing yourself. They do the same, although you didn’t need them to. “It was nice to meet you all, but I better go find my dad!”
Scurrying off, you approach your dad. “I just absolutely embarrassed myself in front of so many people. Remind me again just why I had to attend?”
Hansi looks down in your direction, “we already talked about this. I’m sure it wasn’t that bad—where is your mother?”
Huffing, you nod your head in her direction. “Talking to one of the wives.”
“Perfect, now.. go converse.” He waves you in a random direction, “just have fun. Okay?”
“Fun?” You grumble as he places a kiss to the top of your head.
“Fun.” He nods, walking off to find his wife.
When the dinner was finally over and you’d exhausted yourself with bare minimum conversations, you make your way toward the balcony that overlooked your back lawn. The cool night air brushed against your shoulders.
Letting out a long breath, your eyes flutter shut. The moment of peace you’d been wanting all night had finally arrived.
Or not.
“May I join you?”
Opening your eyes, you turn your head to look at Lamine. “Sure, why not.” You say quietly.
Lamine stands beside you, not speaking thankfully—not that you would’ve minded, but it was nice to have some quiet time.
Minutes pass before either of you speak. You initiate it, not looking at him, “so.. thoughts?”
“On what?”
“I dunno, the house, my dad.. anything, I guess.” You shrug, twirling around so your back was leaning against the railing.
Lamine rests his hip against it, giving you an amused smile. “Your house is, well, fancy. And your dad is scary, but funny.” He answers truthfully.
You snicker, finding it funny how everyone who met your dad thought he was scary. Hansi—your father, was quite the opposite. Maybe it was just because you were his daughter, but your dad did have quite the humor when he wanted to.
“My dad is the least scary person in the world. If he was, you wouldn’t be out here alone with me. He would’ve been right behind you.” You nod toward the balcony door. “I promise he’s a chill guy.”
“You’re only saying that because he’s your dad.” Lamine counters. He believed you, but he couldn’t help but doubt it when he saw the mans resting face.
Your name being shouted interrupts your conversation. You glance in the voices direction, seeing your mother’s head pop out of the door. “Your father’s about to make his.. speech.” She looks toward Lamine, eyebrow raising. “You’ll be needed too, Lamine.”
“We’ll be in soon!” You call back, silently begging for her to leave. She does, giving you a knowing look that you scowl at.
“Okay, we should probably go.” You say slowly, taking a few steps away from the railing, “but, hey—“
Lamine pauses mid step, glancing at you. “Yeah?”
“Could I get your number?” Your face grows a bright red, “that was far too direct. I just.. well you seem cool.”
The boy laughs, “yeah, of course. Here.” He reaches for his phone in his back pocket and hands it to you, allowing you to type your number in and save your contact.
“Text me sometime, i’m pretty much always available. New country and all..” You continue walking to the door, Lamine close in tow.
Months had passed, five long months. Lamine had texted you the day after he got your number and you had never stopped talking. You started hanging out regularly, which eventually progressed into his asking you out.
You’d been dating for a few weeks, and in those weeks you’d tried to convince Lamine that it would be okay to tell your dad, that he wouldn’t mind, but he had his doubts.
Sitting on the couch at Lamine’s parent’s house, one of the few places you could be together without the eyes of the public on you. Your head rested on his shoulder with his arm wrapped around you.
“Lamine.” You rub your temples, “he literally adores you! If I’m being honest, he probably likes you more than me. So please, I hate hiding this from him.”
Contemplating for a moment, he finally lets pit a sigh of defeat. “Okay! Okay. Fine, but if he sells me to a different club, it’s your fault.”
Laughing, you tilt your head up. “You’re my dad’s little starboy, he’s not selling you to anyone.” You tease, your lips pulling into a smirk.
Rolling his eyes at you, Lamine tips his head closer, lips inches from yours. “You are so annoying.” He grumbles, pecking your lips sweetly.
“Yeah, well, you love that about me.” You greet his lips in a small kiss, only pulling away to grab your phone. “Diner at parents tonight?”
“Tonight?” Lamine’s eyes widen. “Hell no.”
“Hell, yes! Actually.” You laugh, “dress nicely.”
You forced Lamine through the front door, your hand gripping his tightly. “Get in! You’re acting like you can’t walk.”
“Yeah, well, i’m sort of paralyzed in fear. No thanks to you.” He hisses, scowling when he sees the entertained look on your face.
“Is that you, Engel? [angel]” Your dads voice calls out from the living room.
“Yeah!” You yell back, turning to lamine to whisper, “I may have forgotten to mention you were my boyfriend.”
Lamine has no time to react when your dad walks out of the living room entrance to greet you. A sweat breaks out on the boys forehead when his coaches eyes land on him.
“Lamine? What are you doing here…” He stops speaking slowly, eyes flickering to you with something a little less than surprise, but something near it. “Huh.” He nods. “Well, dinners almost ready. You can go to the dining room.”
Mild reaction, expected reaction.
“Perfect! I’m starving.” You squeeze Lamine’s hand and pull him toward the kitchen, trying not to comment on the absolute fear written across his face.
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likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future lamine posts.
DTS , @halfwayhearted @sakashq @ar4ujos @hrts4havertz @joaoflms @spidybaby !
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lumarhorrors · 3 days ago
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Hiii i had this idea of like a nerd and hes like student counsel president and hes obsessed w the reader. and maybe like make him a service top w overstimulation
I had to look up what service top is and still have no clue 🫠. If its bot what its supposed to be I'll rewrite it later.
Cw: smut, service top,
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You and the student Council president were good friends. You were more of a soft-spoken, but stern person in the Student Council. You voiced your opinions and ideas very strongly which got his respect quite quickly. And his heart too. You happily accepted his confession when he did and it was so sweet to see the stoic and strict Council president just crumble and stumble to even get the words "I love you" out of him.
When the two of you first got frisky he told you that he just wanted to do whatever you wanted and to please you in any way. You found it so sweet especially when he was so soft and gentle your first time. He's check on you and if you were uncomfortable with something or a position he's change it so you'd also enjoy yourself. You learned pretty quickly he found pleasure in making sure you were happy and comfortable and enjoying yourself. If you weren't liking it neither was he.
As time went on you suggested more kinky stuff such as tying him up and riding him. He was all for it especially when the time came and he saw how much enjoyment you got from it. He loves it when you call him baby or pretty boy in bed and out of bed. That man is such a sucker for you. He loves to call you his Prince or baby boy and he adores how flustered and giddy you get at the names. When you both made your relationship known to your student Council members the council president absolutely brags to his friends has amazing you are and how you treat him like he's the most perfect this in the world.
But poor boy can get insecure especially if one of the jocks takes interest in you. He'll never bring it up because he doesn't want to seem like a jealous boyfriend but he can't help but think you'll be better off with someone more dominant. During sex, you have to reassure him many many times you love what he did how he makes sure you're enjoying what he does and how he puts the effort into changing what he does if you're not comfortable or aren't enjoying things.
Trust me this man can be obsessive and he'll love you to death. But his stern and cold attitude still applies to everyone but you and that ticks off a lot of council members so they always have to get you to ask him things because? He can never say no to you man's to in love and obsessed. Your his cute nerd that's stern but fair of course he's doing what you want. Especially to see that big smile and giddiness you do it makes his heart flutter
His favourite things to do with you during sex are have you ride him or pressing your legs against your chest so you can feel him hitting your prostate over and over. God he loves hearing the small gasps and moans you make it drives him to the edge till he's painting your insides white.
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I'm so upset because half of this got deleted on post 😭😭😭
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alatushours · 2 days ago
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☆ STARS, SNORES & SAKE, feat. roronoa zoro — after a long day of celebrations, all zoro wants is to spend some quiet time with his lover.
contents. gender neutral reader. established relationship, fluff. use of y/n + pet names (zoro calls reader baby, you call him birthday boy). zoro birthday special! ♡ word count. 1.4k
notes. guess who’s back from the dead… that’s right it’s me! and just in time for zoro’s birthday too ♡ (watch me disappear after posting this) lowk zoro might be ooc but who cares i just want soft zoro maaaan. i haven’t written in so long but i really hope you guys enjoy! follows & reblogs are appreciated!
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ZORO WAS EXHAUSTED. it had been seven in the morning when he’d been ambushed by the straw hats with party poppers and balloons as he was on his way towards the crow's nest for his daily morning workout. all day, he’d been surrounded by noise, confetti, and luffy gum-gum-rocketing into him every five minutes. now it was nine in the evening, and the crew was still partying the night away. 
he didn't understand why they made such a big deal out of celebrating it, really. his birthday was never that important in the past, so why should it be now? but he supposed that everything was different here than in shimotsuki village, out on the grand line. 
well, at least they had booze. 
he picked up a new bottle of sake from the counter and made his way back over to the table, avoiding luffy and usopp chasing each other around the kitchen with chopsticks stuck up their noses. he’s surprised how they still had so much energy after devouring the feast that sanji had made for dinner. (actually, he was more surprised that the shitty cook spent so much effort on the food, considering it was him they were celebrating.) 
he couldn't help but glance over at you, who was chatting with robin across the table. as he sat down, your eyes met his for a brief moment, and a silent conversation was exchanged between the two of you. 
i'm tired of this. come with me? 
give me just a little longer, 'kay? wanna finish this piece of cake. 
he sighed and made himself comfortable in his chair, his eyes never leaving you. taking a few sips from his bottle, once glancing at nami across the table, who was staring at him. 
what? he mouthed. 
nothing, she mouthed back. 
as soon as zoro saw you eat the last bite of your cake, he stood up and and was beside you at the table before you could even put the fork down.
“come to the deck with me.” he left the question mark out of his sentence; he knew you would come whether he asked you or not, anyway.
you giggled and pushed back out of your chair, taking his awaiting hand. “sure, birthday boy.” 
“don’t call me that.” zoro grumbled at the name, but there was just a tiny hint of a smile on his face. 
“oi, zoro! where are you and y/n going?” luffy asked, mouth half-full of meat. 
“out for some quiet time,” the swordsman replied. “you guys are too noisy. you can have the rest of the cake if ya want, captain.” 
luffy laughed in approval as zoro turned away, ignoring the cook’s grumble of “ungrateful marimo” as he made his way out the kitchen holding his bottle of sake in one hand and your intertwined fingers in the other. 
the smell of sea salt was fresh on the breeze. gentle waves rocked against the hull of the ship, and the stars peeked out in the clear night sky.
“perfect weather for stargazing tonight, isn't it?” you asked him, the sound of your shoes clacking against the wooden deck of the sunny. 
zoro nodded, finding a comfortable place to sit at the bow of the ship by the sunny's masthead. he patted the empty space next to him, which you gladly settled down into.
"finally, some peace and quiet," he sighed, arm instinctively curling around your waist. “i love the crew, but they’re noisy as hell.” 
you nodded your head against his shoulder, listening to the sound of the waves. then suddenly you jumped up to your boyfriend's surprise with an "oh! i almost forgot." you turned and smiled mischievously at him. "wait here for a minute." 
before he could answer, you were scurrying off towards your shared cabin. zoro exhaled, taking a swig from his bottle of alcohol. you were always like this, spontaneous in everything you did. he'd stopped asking you what you were up to a long time ago. most of the time it was just you surprising him with things, anyway. he figured it was probably the same this time too. 
before you long you came back up to him, holding a paper gift bag with a green ribbon tied around the handles. "here," you smiled down at him, and he swore he was seeing the sun. "it's your present. it isn't much, but i hope you like it!" 
"for me?" he took the bag tentatively as you sat back down next to him, wondering what it could possibly be. he wasn't one for gifts, really; but if it was from you it was sure to be something thoughtful. he started pulling things from inside the bag; there was a fancy bottle of sake; he was sure it had to have been expensive. and there was something else. a full-color drawing of himself, held in a wooden picture frame. 
"when did you draw this?" zoro asked. he already knew it was you who made it; the art style was the same as the doodles you liked to draw of him for fun.
"a few days ago, when you were training," you replied. "i sat n' watched, remember? i was drawing the whole time. i tried to be sneaky about it, but i still think you noticed." 
now that he thought about it, he had seen you sketching something in your notebook when he was training. he thought you were simply passing the time with him, but it was really for a different purpose.
"well, it looks just like me." he was impressed at the likeness of the drawing to himself; you'd captured his intense stare, the miniscule droplets of sweat rolling down his face. you'd even drawn the metallic sheen on his swords reflecting in the sunlight. 
"are you sure you like it? it looks okay, right?" you asked him nervously. you had spent extra time afterwards making sure it looked just like him, and even more time perfecting the colors and shading. 
zoro chuckled and leaned over to kiss your forehead. "more than okay, baby. it's beautiful. thank you." he pointed to the unopened bottle of sake. "and thanks for this too. i'm sure it must've been expensive." 
you shook your head. "not really. i just borrowed a bit from robin, that's all." 
he laughed. "at least ya didn't borrow from nami. that witch would probably be all up in your face to pay her back already." 
"yeah, i guess." you leaned against his shoulder, and it was quiet for a while; just you, him, and the gentle lullaby of the ocean waves. 
"i'm glad you like it, though." you whispered after a while. "i was worried…" 
"the hell you'd have to be worried about?" zoro straightened up to look at you then. "you know i don't give a damn about what you get me, as long as it's from you. though… next year, i wouldn’t mind if you drew the two of us. so i can look at it when i miss you."
you blushed. "zoro, you see me almost every day." then suddenly, you laughed. "wait a minute, is the hard-as-steel swordsman of the strawhats being romantic?" 
it was his turn to blush. "i don't know what the hell you're talking about, you idiot." he cleared his throat, then continued. "but really, y/n. don't worry so much 'bout these things, got it? you know i keep all your gifts, anyway." 
“okay.” you kissed him under the pale moonlight, with just the moon and the stars to bear witness to it. his lips tasted like sea and sake and home. “happy birthday, ‘zo. i love you.” 
“love you too, baby.” 
you made yourself comfortable in the warmth of zoro's arms, gazing up at the bright stars above. before you knew it, the rocking of the ship and the soft lull of your boyfriend's chest was enough to send you drifting off to sleep. 
zoro sighed contently, the sound of your soft snores peaceful in his ears. careful not to disturb you from your rest, he stood up. carrying you with one arm and holding your gifts to him in the other, he slowly walked back towards your room. 
he was never one for birthdays, but you made them worth celebrating.
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end notes. damn i haven’t written something this long since last year. it took me like a month to type 500 words and then i finished the other 900 yesterday… lowk dunno how i feel about how this turned out but i hope you guys liked!
© alatushours 2024. please do not copy, modify, or translate my work in any way, nor upload to any other platforms. in the meantime, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and consider leaving a follow! it helps a lot ♡
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justwinginglife · 3 days ago
Text
Blind in Love
Dedicated to @mangostarjam, you convinced me to finish the WIP since you asked about it lmao so thanks!
It had been awhile since you’d had good sex and even longer since you’d had a good date. 
Which was why, when your friend yammered to you -on a daily basis- about the new friend she’d made and how he was your perfect match, you allowed her to set up a blind date between the two of you even though you were still recovering from the first serious relationship you’d ever had ending. But you’d spent more than enough time mourning the past and you were ready to get back out there. If your date ended up being a serial killer, so be it; at least you’d die knowing you tried to have some semblance of a love life again.
At first, you almost didn’t get the date with him at all.
Your friend would tell you how kind the man was, how attentive the man was, how loyal the man was, and you were already sold from her first description. But she kept selling him to you anyway. The days would go by and she’d tell you he liked the same music you did. She’d tell you he was raised in the same area that you grew up in. She’d tell you that he liked the same foods you did. She’d tell you that he was a night owl like you. She’d tell you he liked the same TV shows. She’d tell you he had the same hobbies. She’d tell you he’d vacationed to the same places you had. She’d tell you so many details about him that it felt like you were going on a date with yourself. So you knew you had to meet this guy, you just had to. 
And then one day, she told you it was most likely not going to happen. 
How? How could the most perfect sounding man in the entire world not even want to meet you? Had she told him what she’d told you? Did he know you were practically soulmates? How were you supposed to hear about him everyday, to know all these things about him like he was suddenly your closest friend, only to never meet him, only to be rejected by him before he ever crossed paths with you?
This couldn’t be how things ended. 
But your friend was persistent. Thank god she was persistent. As much as she had promoted him to you, she doubly promoted you to him, and soon enough, she was giving you the good news that he had eventually agreed to go out on a date with you. He had even gone so far as to pick the time and the venue, so she had high expectations for the night. 
You had high expectations for the night.
You tried not to. You didn’t imagine there was anyone for you who could ever be as good as your first love, but if there wasn’t, it wouldn’t be for a lack of you trying to find them. You owed it to yourself, to your friend, to him, to give this date a good try. So even though you tried not to get all worked up over one simple date, you got excited anyway. You dressed up to the nines. 
When you showed up to the address that you’d been instructed to meet him at, you were shocked to discover you’d been here before, years ago. It was a cherry blossom garden. A cherry blossom garden that was usually extremely busy and yet somehow it was now completely deserted. And… lit up? You didn’t remember there being so many lanterns everywhere the last time you’d come here. 
Following the trails of lanterns, you found a man in a suit waiting for you at the end. He was down on one knee. Holding a ring box.
“I love you. I love you so, so much. Please, please marry me.”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
“No.”
“But why?”
“I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again, I’m not going on a blind date. I’m not going on any date. Never again.” Hoshina waved his persistent friend away, thinking his resolve might end any further arguments. It only strengthened her resolve. 
She followed him down the long expanse of hallway, and boy, did he realize just how long it was as she prattled on and on. “But did I tell you she also grew up in the same neighborhood as you?”
He groaned. “Yes. Yes, you did. Doesn’t change a thing.”
“But did I tell you she hikes? You could go hiking together.”
“I don’t want to go hiking with anyone.”
“But did I tell you she cooks, and get this, she cooks your favorite foods. It’s honestly crazy how your favorite foods are like somehow what she specializes in. That’s gotta be some sign, right?”
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Really, I appreciate you trying, but nothing you say is going to make me change my mind about this.”
“Okay, okay, one more thing. You remember that, like, weird vintage medallion thing you have on your nightstand?”
He froze in his tracks. “...What about it?”
“You remember how you told me that they only ever made two of those medallions and you won it at some event? Get this- she has the other half of the set. She also won it at the same event. If that’s not fate, I don’t know what is.” 
He quickly turned around and started making his way back to his room. 
She watched him curiously, keeping pace with him as his pace increased. He was almost like a man on a mission the way he sped down the hall. She was sure he’d burn tracks into the floor with the way he was walking. 
“Can she see me tomorrow night?” He asked finally.
Her brows furrowed in confusion, wondering what on earth could’ve made him change his mind, and so quickly at that. But after all this begging and pleading with him to reconsider the date, she wouldn’t dare question his sudden change in heart. 
“Yeah, of course she can. She’s been waiting for you to say yes forever. I’ll text her. Do you guys wanna meet up at that restaur-”
“I’ll pick the place. I know the perfect spot.”
She blinked a couple times. What was going on with Hoshina today? Not only was he actually agreeing to go on this blind date when he’d been vehemently rejecting it these past few weeks, but now he was taking the initiative to plan the date himself? Something had to be going on. But she was too afraid to ask what, too afraid it would weaken his nerve. So she simply nodded and said, “Alright, good luck. I’ll let her know when you’re ready.” Then she vanished down the hallway, too stunned to speak any further. 
When he reached his room, Hoshina tossed out half his closet trying to figure out what to wear. What was one supposed to wear to propose to the love of his life that he hadn’t seen in years? What was one supposed to say?
He quickly called up the managers of the cherry blossom garden that he’d taken you to on your first date together and he bought out the entire place for tomorrow night. He didn’t want anyone walking in and ruining the only chance he might have with you. 
He took out the ring box he’d been holding onto these last several years and set it out on his nightstand, right beside the medallion that he’d won with you. Then he fell asleep dreaming about your smile. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I love you. I love you so, so much. Please, please marry me.”
Suddenly everything made sense.
Of course he liked the same shows you did. You always made him watch it with you. Of course he was a night owl, you stayed up late together watching those shows. Of course he liked the same hobbies, the same food, the same music, you lived together, it was hard not to pick up the same routines, to pick up the same interests. And all those places your friend had told you he’d visited that you’d also visited? You’d gone on vacation together. 
You’d done everything together. 
Until you didn’t. Until you broke up. 
But now here he was before you, and without even wasting a second to say hi it’s me again, he was already down on one knee proposing with a ring you told him you liked once in passing. 
At first you wondered why he was here, after so many weeks of declining to proceed with this date. Had he known it was you all along? Was that why he’d said no? But then why was he here? And with a ring no less? What was going on? What made him change his mind?
But suddenly you didn’t care. You didn’t care at all. You didn’t care about the how or the why or the what. You just cared about him. You just cared that the man that you loved, that the only man that you’d ever loved, that the only man you ever wanted to love, was kneeling before you, saying he loved you, saying he still loved you, saying he’d always loved you and always would love you. And he wanted to marry you.
“Yes.”
Taglist: @pixelcafe-network @minasfwoopyponytail @inkytypewriter @ouiouimochi
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whimsicalpolitical · 2 days ago
Text
Use me - Matty Healy x Reader
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in which you always come to matty when your boyfriend doesn’t get you off
content warning: 18+mdni, smut, p in v, cheating, face sitting, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), dirty talk, handjob, aftercare,
“Sorry, where you uhm, going somewhere?” You ask Matty, pointing to his loosened tie and shirt.
“Nah, came back from dinner,” your eyes shoot up at his face. Dinner sounds romantic. He sees right through you though and eases your nerves, “dinner with my mates, love.”
You nod, taking another sip of your hot tea which matty brought you five minutes after banging on his door in the middle of the night.
“D’you need something else?” He asks, “anything at all?”
“No, thank you,” you smile, sinking deeper into the couch, hoping you could stay here forever.
Matty hums and sits next to you, at the end of the couch. He’s throwing his head back slowly, rubbing his forehead.
You watch. You trace the vein under his neck until it disappears into his shirt. His tousled hair reminds you of all the times you tugged at his curls because it was too much. Fuck. You’re still sticky between your legs. You were not able to chase your own pleasure because it doesn’t matter to your boyfriend, it never did and it never will.
Matty always gives a shit, perhaps that’s why you’re here, because you know you’ll feel good. Or maybe you’re here because he shows you an escape from the reality and he’s the only one who has that ability.
“Do I have something on my face?” He jokes, his eyes on you.
You shake your head, “no, it’s perfect as always.”
“Charmer.” Matty spreads his legs further and turns to you, “now, would you like to talk about why you came to mine at two in the morning or should we skip that part where you tell me your little boy isn’t enough for you?”
“Matty-“ you tilt your head and want to apologize, that you’re not using him for your own good but to tell him you enjoy his company.
“Actually, I would like to know what happened this time. Couldn’t he make you finish or did he not care in the first place, c’mon what was it?”
You sigh before locking eyes with him. The brown eyes you can’t stop thinking about. Ever.
“The second,” you respond with shame, “but I don’t care anymore, I just want you, can’t stop thinking about you.”
Matty lets a laugh slip out of his mouth before he moves closer to you, taking your legs and dragging them across his lap.
“Oh, darling, that’s a fucked up situation you’re in, s’ a real shame though- for him I mean.”
His hands are going up and down your thighs, teasing you, making you go crazy.
“What did you say to him ‘fore you left, sure didn’t say you were going to see me.”
You shrug, “told him I need to get work done, I guess.”
Matty hums, his hands now closer to the place you want him the most.
His knuckles brush against your lower stomach which is on display because your shirt had risen up. He sends goosebumps down your body at the feeling of his warm hands on your bare body and you want nothing but to feel them everywhere.
Matty wants to be close to you as well so he takes the opportunity and drags you onto his lap with his arms under your knees.
You don’t have time to make a sound because his mouth is on you again.
You part your lips willingly, gasping when he lurches forward and slides his tongue along yours, biting and sucking at your lips. Matty groans softly at the faint noises you make, your fingers tightening in his hair, the pleasing sting in his scalp sending jolts down to his hard cock.
“mmm matty” You’re panting, desperate for air he won't give you. He likes this—making you gasp, making you weak, making you forget entirely about your boyfriend.
Your hips move over his’ one slow time, gasping at the friction.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he grips your hips and drags you across his bulge again, enjoying the pleasure himself, “is’ good?”
“Yeah-“ you breathe out, his hands kneading your hips to pull you back and forth over his hard cock beneath his jeans. With his eyes closed, lost in the feeling of your tongue in his mouth, his hands finding his way to your ass.
“Matty-“ you gasp, as his jeans hit your clit over and over. You can’t wait, it’s impossible. You tried all night to chase your pleasure but how, if your boyfriend stops when he’s done and doesn’t help you.
“Please, can we-“
Matty is quick to lay you down on the couch, dragging your jeans with your panties down your legs. He shakes his head though when he throws your jeans down the couch.
“I don’t want you to beg, alright? M’sure you’ve done enough of that tonight. I just want you to use me, make yourself feel good, the way you deserve.”
You bite down on to your bottom lip, nodding.
“Want to kiss you here first, that alright?” He asks, spreading your legs with his hand.
“Fuck- yes.”
“Mhm,” he leans down, eyes looking up at you one more time before his gaze fixates on your dripping cunt.
"Fuckin' christ. You're a mess down here. You really tried, hm?” he says, and you can feel every word blow against you.
"Uh-huh," you say, a kiss sucked to your thigh striking stealing all thought from your mind.
"Get close?" he asks, with another kiss, hands kneading at your thighs and ass as they wrap around you and try to tug you closer.
You nod, hoping he can see you as your eyes slip closed with the feeling of him right here, between your legs.
“That’s fucking cruel though,” he chuckles, “fucking dickhead, would make you come everyday for the rest of my bloody life.”
He bites the inside of your thighs until you feel a soft, teasing kiss to your clit. You shudder and whine and your hand falls to his curls to encourage him to give you more.
“Please just-“
“Darling, ease up, like I said, use me, c’mon let’s switch places.”
You frown, not knowing what he actually means but it gets clear when Matty shoves a pillow under his head and you straddle him but he tugs you up his chest.
“Wait-“ you slow him down, “shirt off?”
“Sure,” he says, opening the four buttons that were closed, “now.. up.”
He's licking his lips and looking up at you - all over every inch of you - eating you alive with his stare.
He pushes and pulls you then, dragging you up his chest until your knees are settled either side of his face. You can feel the gust of his breath against your thighs iust before he hauls you forward a little more until his half face is completely covered by your cunt, only his eyes and the bridge of his nose visible now.
“Fuck, love, need me so bad you’re dripping down your thighs. I’m not making you wait, sit down, darling.”
“That’s it.” You settle down slowly onto his face, listening as he guides you down until you feel the first broad swipe of his tongue up through your folds.
"Perfect,” he says, swallowing the taste of you.
He kisses around your clit, nudging it with the curved tip of his nose when he finally licks up into you again.
And then, he's pulling your flush to his face and feasting.
The noise that leaves you is stupid. Somewhere between a gasp and a moan and a question all at once. His nose is pressed against you, his laughter fanning out across your mound as you try not to squirm and wiggle against him, fearful of crushing his head beneath your weight, or at the very least suffocating him.
His face burrows deeper, his hands holding you firm, squeezing and scraping calloused fingertips against your delicate skin.
His hands move from anchoring you to his face, locked around your thighs, to pressing against your ass, gripping the globes of them in each of his broad hands.
He grunts, squeezing your thighs up to your hips as he pulls your clit into his mouth, lathering it with his spit and your wetness. It's white-hot: the pressure on your sensitive little bundle of nerves, the insistent bump of his nose against your clit as he teases his tongue around your tight hole.
"Matty, Matty, fuck," is all you can manage, sweet little gasps that he drinks in, his hips bucking involuntarily with the delicious pain of your fingers pulling at his scalp. You're losing grip on the real world and slipping elsewhere, and he wants to get you there.
One of Matty’s hands slides between your legs, easing them open even more, and rests on your belly, shifting to your ribcage and helping you steady yourself atop him. His fingertips graze your breasts under your shirt.
“Mhmm, fuck, perfect,” he mumbles.
The sounds are slick and obscene, mingled with your drunken sighs and words of encouragement as you curl your fingers against the couch uselessly.
"Matty,” you whimper, your hips rolling against his face, “so good, shit.”
He groans, his hand smacking your thigh, feeling your cunt gush on his tongue as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly.
He groans, his hand smacking your thigh, feeling your cunt gush on his tongue as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly. He'll imprint the feeling of him on your skin forever-if he hasn't already. He'll make sure you never have another man like you have him.
"I'm... oh, fuck, I'm gonna..." Your hips buck wildly, and a growl rumbles deep in his chest, holding you steadfast and firm to his face. He sucks your clit back into his mouth and fixes his tongue to you, wiggling slightly as he feels you stiffen above him. "Matty, shit.”
He knows. You're already coming. You’re both not surprised, you’ve been trying the whole evening and the orgasm that’s been stolen is now more than back.
“Yeah, like that, darling,” he praises, lapping at your cunt in the same pace.
Your hand leaves his hair and braces next to your other one on the couch, ensuring you don't fall over as your thighs shake uncontrollably and your mouth drops open in a keening whine. Matty keeps sucking at your clit long after your orgasm fades and you cry out from the overstimulation.
Gently, you reach down to tug his hair, and he reluctantly pulls away. He's so hard he can't conjure much mental activity besides getting his dick wet.
“Alright?” He asks with a big grin on his face.
“More than,” you respond.
Your chest is heaving as you try to pick your leg up and get off him, but your strength fails you. Instead, Matty grabs your hips and sits up, your cunt sliding down to sit on top of his erection. Experimentally, you grind down on him, watching a muscle in his jaw feather.
"Need you. Are you going to let me take your pants off?" you ask him, teasing, your finger tracing the metal of his belt buckle.
He grits his teeth, letting you take control for a moment, sliding the belt achingly slow out of each loop.
“Do anything you want to, you’re in control. Don’t need to act all modest with me.”
You dip your body low to his chest and press gentle kisses all the way down to his stomach.
Matty moans brokenly when you shuck his jeans down his legs and squeeze his hard length before it can slap up against his stomach. Your tongue darts out and licks up the precum pooling at his slit, making his cock twitch in your grasp. “jesus,” he groans. “You don’t have to, darling, you can make this all about yourself.”
You ignore him.
Your soft lips part around the throbbing head of his cock. Squeezing his strong thighs to ground yourself, you swirl your tongue around the tip and take him deeper, your throat expanding to accommodate him in your mouth. Your thumb rubs over his ‘we are kings’ tattoo like you always do, you look at him as you do so. His eyes are watery, blinking hard to expel the tears, his hand instinctively cradling the crown of your head to keep you on him, keep you choking around him.
“Christ, fuck,—” His fingers curl in your hair and gently urge you off his cock; you pout, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his length. His dick jumps at the sight, lying hard on his stomach.
“Don’t pout, don’t need to come in your gorgeous mouth if you want me again,” he rasps.
“Fine,” you playfully roll your eyes but of course you listen and crawl up his body until your hips are flush, his hardness slotted, thick and throbbing, between your folds. The hum that leaves your mouth is wanton, your teeth tugging at your bottom lip. His hands move to your lower back, digging into the flesh just above your ass so you’re forced to roll your hips along his shaft.
“Have at it, darling,” he says.
You lift yourself up but instead of sinking down you take his cock into your hand and start moving up and down.
Matty shudders and grips your wrist, “fuckin, d’you want to kill me?”
You only giggle and shake your head innocently, “want you to fuck me now, I’ve been good.”
“Yeah, you reckon you are?” he reaches down, his hands going to your hips and guiding you down onto him. You both let out a moan as he fills you, the sensation almost overwhelming.
“You feel so good, love,” he breathes, looking down at where his cock disappears, “want you all the time n’ I can’t fucking stand the thought of you being with him.”
You look at each other, pupils dilated, mouths parted. You don’t move, not just yet, but you lean forward to crash your lips against Matty’s as a response.
Your hand grips the back of his neck to keep him exactly where he is, his tongue gliding across yours, filthy sounds coming from the both of you when you finally start to move.
“Yeah- fuck, you’re so good.”
You can feel his gaze on you, and it only served to heighten the pleasure building inside you. You start to ride him properly, your hands grabbing onto his shoulders.
His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips, his grip almost painful as he struggles to maintain control. The sounds he is making are sinful, the low moans and gasps escaping his lips spurring you on.
“Oh fuck, Matty,” you moan, “you make me feel so good.”
“Y-yeah?” He gasps, his thumb coming down your body to rub your clit in a torturous, slow pace, wanting to build the pressure, “s’ what I want, babe, need you to feel good.”
You moan again when he lowers his face to kiss you all over your breasts, sucking and biting at your nipple, offering you another way of stimulation.
“Need you, Matty, need you,” you repeat, your head falling against his shoulder while you keep your pace, your hips moving up and down.
“You have me, love,” he groans, moving his thumb a bit faster.
You clench around him and he can’t help himself but thrust into you so deep it makes you scream his name so loud you thank yourself he doesn’t have neighbors.
“Keep doin’ that,” he moans, “fuck.”
“Please,” you beg, just wanting to come with him all together, “Matty please.”
“I’ve got you,” he says, his brown eyes melting when he sees your fucked out face, “wanna come so badly again? Couldn’t feel good all evening and you need me for it?”
“Yes,” you admit, your hips slowing down, not having the energy like you had in the beginning, “fuck- I can’t.”
Matty hums and grips your hips, helping you to ride him faster, “like that, s’good, rub your clit for me though.”
You don’t waist a second and start as fast as when he stopped.
“Fuck, matty.”
“You’re perfect,” he says, moving his hips with yours, doubling the pleasure, “I- fuck, are you close?”
You know he is. His thrusts are faltering, eyes closed, head thrown back, his hands definitely bruising you but you don’t care. You want him to mark you. And honestly you couldn’t care less, not when you’re at the edge, letting yourself fall into him completely.
You clench around him again, a sign that you are close.
“Kiss me,” you whine, “plea-“
He does, it’s not a perfect, sweet kiss. He’s moaning against you, lips messily on yours, licking into your mouth as you both move together.
"You deserve this, you deserve to be fucked like this every day. Not treated like you're worthless."
Matty’s mouth is everywhere-his lips moving over your neck, nipping at your skin before kissing and licking at the sensitive spot just below your ear.
His tongue flicks out, tasting the salt of your skin, and you moan, your fingers digging into his shoulders as his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside you.
"You're so fuckin' gorgeous," he groans, “fucks sake, my girl.”
He spurs you on and you can’t go any longer.
“Matty, im gonna come, can I- fuck.”
You whimper, your body trembling as the pleasure mounts, your mind going blank as Matty’s cock slams into you harder, deeper. Your hand on your clit, his mouth on your neck, his body pressed tightly against yours-it is too much, and you feel yourself spiraling toward release.
"You don’t need to ask for permission, are you mental?" he laughs, “come for me, love, whenever you want to.”
With a final, devastating thrust, the coil inside you snaps, and you scream his name as your orgasm tears through you, your body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.
Your pussy clenches around his cock, milking him as he groans deeply, his hips never stopping, prolonging your pleasure as he fucks you through your orgasm.
“Fuck,” he groans, your hips slowing down as his hips slam into you one strong time, releasing in you with a whimper, groan and moan, “jesus fucking christ.”
You whine, only grinding softly against him until you’re both too fucking exhausted to move.
You stay like this though- with him softening inside of you until he accidentally slips out making the both of you hiss.
“I really really like you,” you say, not being able to lift your forehead from his shoulder just yet, “I swear I’m not using you for this.”
“It’s alright,” he soothes you, hand brushing through your hair, “I’m the last to judge, m’just glad you’re here.”
“Me too,” you whisper.
After a long while Matty decides to lift you up, keeping your legs wrapped around him. You whine at the new coldness, air hitting your naked form.
“I’ll just need to clean you up, darling, you okay?”
“Mhm,” you hum holding on to him, “bed though, please?”
“Course,” he says, pushing the door with his foot softly that leads you into his bedroom, “I’ll be right back then.”
He lays you down softly but before he can walk to the bathroom you pull him down, holding his face to give him a sweet kiss.
He’s kissing all over your face then, asking you multiple times if you need anything, praises leaving his mouth, “you’ve done so good, love, going to let me get you a towel?”
“Fine,” you groan, rolling your eyes and pushing him away.
While he waddles over to the bathroom, slipping a pair of boxers on while doing so, you get yourself a piece of clothing as well. A simple black shirt from Matty’s drawer.
You flop down onto the bed then and not even a minute later he’s back, a wet towel in his hand and a lotion.
“Let me take care of you,” he says, kneeling on the edge of the bed and spreading your legs, “it’s what you deserve.”
You can’t help but smile at his sweetness, letting him drag the towel up your thighs to your core, hissing at the soreness.
“M’sorry,” he apologizes, being as careful as he can be, “even used warm water, thought it would be more pleasant than cold.”
“It’s alright,” you nod, “thank you.”
His brows are furrowed in that intense way of his, and you are lost, as always, in the precision of it all — how someone so careless about most things could be so careful with you.
When he finally sets the towel aside, his hands replace it, gliding along your thigh with a gentle grip. He reaches for the lotion he brought, squeezing a bit into his hand before warming it between his fingers. The scent is faint, familiar, like something he’d chosen just for you, and he slowly works it into your skin, thumbs pressing softly in circles along the tops of your legs.
You hum, a sound low in your throat, and he glances up at you, his mouth quirking into a half-smile. "Feel good, love?"
You nod, letting your head rest back on the pillows, eyes drifting shut as his hands continue their slow, steady rhythm.
"Matty?"
"Yeah?"
There is a pause, the silence stretching as you weigh the words you’re holding back. You swallow, feeling the weight of them settle in your chest before you finally let them go. "I think I want to break up with him."
For the first time that night, his hands still, his fingers still warm against your skin as he looks up, his gaze locking onto yours, eyes dark and searching. "You sure?" he asks, voice rough but soft. "I mean… I’d definitely drop that wanker if I were you. But… are you sure?"
You nod, your own voice quieter than you expected. "Yeah, I’m sure. I don’t…" you hesitate, trying to find the right words, "I don’t feel right with him. He’s a selfish bastard, Matty. Only cares about himself. Never really… I don’t know. Not like you do."
The corner of his mouth lifts, just a hint of satisfaction, but he covers it with a quick raise of his brow, setting the lotion bottle aside.
"About time, I’d say. I mean, you deserve better than some bloke who’s all talk and no bloody follow-through." He moves closer, leaning in so his face is just inches from yours. "What kind of idiot would treat you like that? He’s the one who’s missing out.”
"Yeah… I just kept thinking things would get better, you know? Like maybe I was the problem."
Matty’s scoff is loud, dismissive, and his hand finds yours, fingers threading through yours with a surprising softness.
"Nah, not a chance. Don’t you dare let him put that on you. You’re the best damn thing that’s ever walked into his life, and if he was too stupid to see that? Then he deserves what he gets." His fingers squeeze yours, grounding and reassuring. "But you already know that. Just needed a little push?”
You nod, squeezing back. "Guess so."
He lets out a soft chuckle, leaning back just enough to take you in, his gaze lingering on your face as he tilts his head.
“You shouldn’t be with someone who’s not good for you, you know?”
You nod, leaning forward to kiss his cheek and pull him up by his biceps, “you’re right, and that’s why I’m here.”
Matty gets the hint immediately, letting himself be drawn up until he’s lying half on top of you, chest pressing against yours, his weight warm and solid as he settles against you. His head dips down, burying into the crook of your neck, and he lets out a soft, contented sigh, his breath warm against your skin.
“Been wanting this all day,” he murmurs, his voice a little rough, like he’s barely holding back some deeper feeling. “Just you, here with me. None of that rubbish, none of him messing with your head. Just us.
You hum, the sound vibrating in your chest as you feel him relax against you, his hand reaching up to stroke your hair, brushing it back from your face with a tenderness that sends warmth flooding through you.
“Can I bring you anything? Water? Tea? Anything you need, just say the word.”
You smile, shaking your head slightly. “No, Matty, I’m good. You’ve done enough already, honestly. Thank you.”
He lifts his head, just enough so he can see your face, his eyes searching yours with that familiar intensity. “Enough? Don’t say that. Not a chance I’m leaving you without everything you could possibly want, got it?”
You squeeze his arm gently. “Well, in that case, just stay here with me. That’s all I want.”
His lips curve into a grin, his eyes warming. “Now that’s the easiest thing you could’ve asked for. I’m not going anywhere.”
“How about this: we sleep in tomorrow. Really let ourselves be lazy, yeah? Then I’ll take you somewhere nice, like that bakery on the corner. We’ll get those ridiculous pastries you like so much. What d’you think?”
You smile, the thought of it filling you with a cozy sense of comfort. “That sounds… perfect, actually. Can we get those chocolate croissants?”
“Anything you want.” He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ll get a dozen if that’s what it takes to see you smile like that.” His thumb brushes across your cheek, his expression softening as he looks at you. “Deserve to feel like this all the time. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Least of all some idiot who doesn’t know what he’s got.”
“Thank you, Matty,” you whisper, meaning it more than you can say.
“Just glad you’re here.” His eyes hold yours for a long moment, then he settles back down, pulling you closer until you’re tangled together. He murmurs one last thing, just as you’re drifting off.
“Sleep well, darling. Wake me if you need something or just feeling lonely.”
You giggle as you start to rub small, slow circles along the back of his head, your fingertips grazing his scalp. He lets out a soft sound, almost a purr, and relaxes even more against you, his kisses drifting down to the corner of your mouth, lingering there as if he’s savoring every second.
“I definitely will,” you joke, “good night.”
“Night,” he murmurs, kissing your shoulder blade before you’re both drifting off.
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halfwayhearted · 2 days ago
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Hi girl i love your work sm,
would you be able to do one with marc bernal and he’s really touchy with the reader and he’s just obsessed with her and has to be near her all the time
tysm xxx
For Lovers — Marc Bernal.
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Pairing: Marc Bernal x Fem!Reader
Summary: Marc won’t leave you alone, you don’t really mind.
Word Count: 700+
Disclaimer/s — Just tooth-rotting fluff, uh. Freak yeah.
A/N: Thank you so much!!! I love you and I loved this request. BOOOOM SHAKALAKA. YES GAAAAWD. I’M SICK.
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The night was going smoothly. You’d invited Marc over for a night in, something you two often liked to do. With him having to practice and travel, you would take whatever time with him you could get.
Lifting your head up and off his chest, you’re met with a disappointed groan. “What’s wrong now?”
“You’re moving. Why’re you moving?” He asked.
“You’re not bored?” Your tone was confused. All you guys were doing was watching movies. How was he not at all bored? “Let’s make some food?”
Food. Okay, he could eat. “Yeah, let’s do that.” And with that, he reluctantly releases his hold on you and moves to stand, his hands not wanting to be off you for long. When he helps you to your feet, his hand rests on the small of your back for whatever reason. This was your house; he didn’t necessarily need to guide you, well, anywhere.
Once you both enter your kitchen, you open your refrigerator and glance at whatever ingredients you spot first, hoping that the second you lay your eyes on something, a recommendation will pop into your mind. That’s what you always did.
Thankfully, it does! It’s simple, but it could work. “So! How does a quesadilla sound? Is that good?”
“Mhm,” Marc hums, his gaze trained on yours like he was following your every move. It makes you nervous. You know you should be used to it by now, although you don’t think you ever could be.
Taking out everything needed, you switch on the stove, your body turning to face him while you wait for it to heat up. “What’s next on our list? We could start a show and only watch it when we’re together. I have a bunch that we could start.”
The boy tilts his head. “Yeah? Tell me about them, then we can choose,” he says, leaning against the counter. Again with the eye contact. Oh… okay.
“Well—” you found yourself unable to even start under the intensity of his gaze, and you swallow. “Can you, uh, can you grab the cheese for me?”
He doesn’t answer you, but he follows through with your request. That’s when you start to speak. “Oh, wait! We can watch ‘Outer Banks’! Have you heard of it? About the treasure and all that?”
Yes, he has. You seem excited to talk about it, so he finds himself shaking his head no. Setting the cheese down next to the stove, he’s already by your side, his hand finding yours on the countertop, fingers drawing shapes. The first being a heart. Then, he flickers his gaze to yours, watching how you talk about how the show has been on your ‘must watch’ list for a year, you just never had the chance to go through with it.
“Marc? Are you even listening to me?” You laugh.
That’s when he blinks. How long have you been finished explaining? “Yeah. Yes. Let’s watch.”
“Perfect! Just give me, like, ten minutes. You can go sit down if you want. What drink would you want? Look in the fridge and let me know, ‘Kay?”
“I’ll wait. I can wait for you,” he shrugs. “Tell me more about the show. Or is that all you know?”
“That’s all I know. We can talk theories about it?”
The sound of his laugh is like music to your ears, tugging the corners of your lips into a soft smile. You don’t know why he’s laughing. “How can we talk theories if neither of us have watched it?”
Your eyebrows pull together at that, and suddenly you’re frowning. “Fine. Let’s talk predictions?”
“Let’s talk predictions. How about you start," Marc suggests. Of course, he’d want you to start. You just never really know why. Not that you were complaining or anything, though.
To him, it was just so he could hear your voice. Yes, he listened. He always listened. The fact that he could listen to you ramble on and on for probably hours and still be able to repeat and ask questions made you want to do nothing but tell him how deeply in love with him you were.
And he’d want nothing more than to do the same.
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Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.
DT(s) — @planetpedri + @spidybaby + @sakashq ! ౨ৎ
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respectthepetty · 2 days ago
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Before episode three of Perfect 10 Liners continued the love story of these two color-coded boys in love,
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It gave me small glimpses of the other color-coded boys in love.
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And I'm intrigued by the Lapis Lads.
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I don't know if Faifa is truly flirting with Wine or if this casual affection is the norm for him since Yotha threatened him to not behave with Wine as he had with other people, but I think that is the point.
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Wine won't be able to tell if Faifa likes him or if this is all just part of Faifa's personality.
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Unlike these two where it's obvious one likes to annoy and the other likes to act as if he is annoyed,
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Wine seems impersonal and sad, so if he can't get a proper read on Faifa, who comes across as aloof and nosy, I'm going to eat them up because this is truly a battle of two Blue Boys making the worst impression on each other through their color's worst traits.
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Just like Red Rascal Arc is leaving a horrible impression on me since the show is determined to remind me he is a Manchester United fan every single week! I don't care if he has Rashford's red jersey! GET IT OUTTA HERE!
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And just like that, I'm sent back into the past where Arc has just caused and accident due to his road rage, and Yellow Yal Arm is just "no biggie" about it all. He seems kinda into it actually.
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But I don't have to dwell on that kink too long because Blue Boy Sand, in his "relationship" shirt, is clearly already dating Orange Oddity Pond, with his very orange Thai tea and Spider Man hoodie, so as a person who sat through sixteen episodes of We Are for Marc x Poon, I'm thankful my prayers were answered in this series. Amen.
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I'm also feeling Blue Boy Warm being in contact with Arc's mom because I see you, Mrs. Robinson! Arc better watch out before he gets a new daddy. Purple Person Cop knows. He sees the writing on the wall.
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I'm going to ignore the elephant in the room, or the tiny worm if you ask Pipo, because I want to point out that JJ is looking very adorable in this show, and this scene gave me time to really notice all the yellow in Arm's room. The elephant is hiding behind the yellow couch, but also there is a yellow clock, his yellow bag, and the subways in the painting are also yellow.
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I like that in an effort to ignore the elephant he saw, Green Guy Pipo changed his shirt to an Apocalypse Now shirt.
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Where would Arm and Arc be without their Blue Boy Besties? LOST and friendless, that's where!
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Arc wants Arm to know more about him, but all Arm needs to know is Arc's color is red; therefore, he has anger issues, he is persistent to the point of stalking, and the sex will be 🔥🌶🔥, but somehow, I think Arm already knows.
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Orange Oddity Pond is doing such a great job communicating and taking up all of Sand's attention while also giving rides. This is how you balance the negative with the positive as an Oddity. You hear that Peaceful Property's Somkid!
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Color-coded boys in love and their friend Steve.
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It's real gay of Arc to keep staring at Arm's lips while berating him. It's giving >instigating a fight so his hands will be on me< and, once again, I think they are both aware of this.
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And I end the episode with their color-coded gears interlocking before the preview decided to show me a bottle being smashed over Arm's head.
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But at least he'll be wearing a color-coded appropriate smiley face shirt when it happens!
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Because color-coded boys in love get happy endings, even if car accidents and bar fights are part of the journey to that happy ending.
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I see you, kinksters.
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em-ontv · 3 days ago
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Hi I’m the anon who sent you the idea for “sing a song for me” and it’s literally so perfect I can’t wait to read the second part. I might cry a little I’m not even lying this was a dream I had and I was like huh wow that would make a cool fanfic but I can’t write at all. And you made it even better than I could’ve imagined thank you so much 🥰
Sing a song for me. (2/2)
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Pairing: Soldier Boy x supe!fem!reader
Warnings: injuries/scars, comfort/intimacy (non-explicit), language, no use of y/n, Butcher being Butcher, probably ooc Ben (I made him a bit too gentle, we don't need more trauma), not proof-read
A/n: hello, anon! I'm so glad you liked part 1, this is the long due part 2 I promised. Hope you like it <3 sorry for taking so long to write this :'(
Read part 1 here
Word count: 2.4k
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The inside of the van was cramped and smelled faintly of oil and sweat. The seats were worn, the leather cracked from use. The night outside was dense, you saw just enough stars to remind yourself that while you were locked away, there was a whole other world out there beyond your cell.
You sat beside Ben, who kept casting glances your way as if he was afraid you'd shatter. But you couldn't blame him... you must have looked terrible. The bruises, the exhaustion, the haunted look in your eyes. You didn't even bother to look at yourself in the reflection of the window on your way into the van. It felt like too much—like you couldn't handle what Vought had done to you. Not yet.
The ride was mostly silent until Butcher finally spoke.
"Alright, love, here's the deal." he said, breaking the silence. His eyes looked over you, his expression calculating. "We need to know now. Are you in, or do we drop you somewhere nice and safe to rot? We're taking down Homelander. It's not a bloody game."
Hughie shifted uncomfortably, his mouth opening like he wanted to say something, but he stayed silent. You stared back at Butcher, trying to gather your thoughts, trying to form words, but your head was spinning.
You knew what he was asking, but it felt too much to make that decision right now. You just wanted to rest—a bed, a moment to breathe without fear clawing at your throat.
"Alright, back the fuck off." Ben's voice snapped, breaking through the haze of your thoughts. The tension in the van spiked, and for a second, it looked like he was ready to lunge across the seat at Butcher and knock all of his teeth out. "Can't you see she's been through enough? She doesn't need your bullshit right now."
Butcher's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he met Ben's glare. "We don't have time for second-guessing, mate. It's a very simple question."
Butcher turned his gaze back to you. "You can help us take down Homelander, the bastard who’s got half the world wrapped around his fuckin' finger, or we can take you back home. But no guarantees, yeah? Vought knows about you. They’ll come for you. Eventually."
You swallowed hard, rubbing a hand over your throat, your mind spinning. Home? That word didn't even feel real. Could that place—that cell—even be worthy of being called something like home?
But then again, if you didn't help, could you ever be safe again? For once in a very long time, the choice was yours, but both paths seemed like a death end.
"She needs time." Ben said, his jaw tensing, quietly observing you as if he knew what you were thinking. The hand that he rested on your back made you flinch slightly, causing him to retract it, his fingers curling into a fist.
Your gaze faltered, your eyes dropping to the ground before you managed to look back at Butcher.
A sharp huff escaped Butcher, his patience worn out. “Time's not a luxury we've got. This ain't a charity." He turned toward you, his tone biting. "Again, you can go back to your cozy little cell, I suppose. Vought’ll just find a new use for you.”
"For fuck's sake, she just got out of an shithole." Ben snapped, his voice simmering with anger. "Give her some fuckin' time."
For a moment, Butcher looked like he might argue with some witty comeback, but after a beat, he exhaled sharply, turning his attention back to the road. "Fine. But time's ticking."
The rest of the drive was quiet. You leaned back in your seat, your eyelids heavy, letting your eyes close for just a moment, the noise faded into the background as you let exhaustion win over.
––––
When you reached the destination, Ben helped you out of the van, his movements cautious, his hand warm and solid on your lower back as he guided you inside. The "safe house" was as secure as it was miserable, but right now, that didn't matter. It was shelter, and it was enough.
The others dispersed, Butcher grumbling quietly under his breath as he stalked off to another room, Frenchie and Kimiko greeted you with a wave before leaving too.
Ben, though, lingered by your side, his hand hovering near yours, gently brushing against it for a second, but he didn't dare to reach for you.
"You alright?" he asked, his voice rough but oddly gentle, his gaze never leaving your face. It wasn't something you expected to hear from him—after seeing his quite violent display in the lab, but here he was, looking at you with more concern than anyone else ever had.
You nodded, a small smile curling on your lips, swallowing thickly. "I'm... yeah. Just... tired," you were almost embarrassed by how weak you sounded, but he didn't judge, a faint understanding in his expression.
Hours passed in a tired blur. You had settled into a room, a worn-out bed, but it was better than nothing. Everyone retreated to their own corners of the place for what little rest they could find. You sank into the mattress, your eyes drifting shut almost instantly.
––––
It was sometime past midnight when Ben jolted awake, a cold sweat clinging to his skin, running a shaky hand over his face. The room was pitch dark, save for the faint glow of moonlight outside filtering through the window. He sat up, his heart pounding, the remnants of the dream clinging to him.
Images flashed through his mind—memories of Vought, of his own time in their hands, of the time when he was betrayed, taken away, being tested on, and then frozen for decades. His breathing was ragged, the familiar surge of anger clawing its way to the surface, but something else broke through.
His thoughts drifted to you.
Without really thinking, he got up, slipping out of his room and down the hallway, to the room where you slept. His steps were slow, cautious, not wanting to disturb you.
He hesitated at the doorway to your room, his breath catching when he saw you lying there, on the narrow, uncomfortable bed.
In the dim light, your features were softened, the lines of worry and pain absent. You looked peaceful, your breathing slow and steady, and it eased something in him, his shoulders sagging as the tension slipped away.
Ben took a step into the room, but the floor creaked under his weight, and your eyes snapped open, sitting up on the bed, startled.
"...m'sorry," he whispered, his voice soft but hoarse, like something was bothering him. "Didn’t mean to wake you."
"It’s okay," you murmured, your breathing becoming steady. Your eyes flickered over his face, the lingering pain in his expression catching you off-guard.
You knew that something was wrong, you'd seen that look before, in patients who had been through a lot, in people who had lost themselves along the way.
He hesitated, glancing away, as if embarrassed by his own vulnerability. He looked like he might turn and go back to his own room—but his uneven breathing made him pause. The sight of you was comforting, and that kind look in your eyes made him move closer instead of backing away.
He took a few careful steps closer, almost unsure. "Just wanted to… make sure you were alright," he said, his voice low.
You nodded, your heart still pounding, but not from fear this time, it was something warm. "I’m okay. Just… hard to sleep sometimes."
He nodded, understanding flickering in his eyes. He sank down to one knee, then both, kneeling beside your bed, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him and his slow breaths. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence heavy but comforting.
Without thinking, you lifted your hand, resting it gently against the side of his head, your thumb brushing over his temple. His eyes widened, a brief moment of shock crossing his face.
"What are you—?" his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, the touch almost made him wince in pain from how gentle it was. It was like your fingers brushed against some soft spot inside of him, he almost melted.
"It's okay... trust me," you started, trying to reassure him. His eyes met yours, the initial tension easing. He didn't pull away, but instead leaned into your touch in a quiet surrender. "My powers, they'll help," you added softly.
At your voice, his eyes fluttered shut, his expression softening as he exhaled a long, shaky breath. The walls he had built around himself crumbled bit by bit the more he felt your touch.
You hesitated, then began to hum—a soft, gentle melody, barely audible but enough to fill the silence. It felt strange, using your powers willingly again, but different this time... it brought you back to the bittersweet memories of your time before Vought. The tune was simple, soothing, a song you’d sung so many times before. Not destructive, but safe, warm.
As the notes drifted through the air, you felt Ben’s body relax under your touch. His breathing slowed, each exhale deeper, more even, and his hand reached up, covering yours as he pressed your palm closer to his face, silently grounding himself in the warmth of it.
His thumb brushed over the back of your hand, a gentle touch, and he felt something he thought he lost... peace. A kind of comfort that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Or something that he thought he'd given up for good, back in the old days, or maybe he'd never had it to begin with.
When your humming finally faded, he stayed there, his hand still covering yours, his eyes still closed. For a second, you thought he might have fallen asleep, but then he spoke, his voice barely a whisper.
"I don’t deserve this," he murmured, his tone laced with a sadness that made your heart ache. "You don't understand what I've... the things that I did."
You shook your head, your hand instinctively wanting to fall from the side of his face but he only held you closer with a conflict—whether he wanted to push you away or pull you into his arms and not let go.
"All I know is that I would've been stuck in that lab if it weren't for you," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "A favor for a favor. I think that's fair."
"Well, it wasn't entirely my choice to break you out," he muttered, that blunt tone of his slipping through, as if it was his last attempt to pull away before sinking too deep.
A soft scoff escaped your lips. "Whatever it was, at least I'm not stuck there anymore."
Slowly, you pulled him up onto the bed beside you, and he let you, his movements careful like he was afraid he might shatter the moment. You shifted, settling so that you were facing him, the blanket fell from your shoulders to pool around your waist, leaving the bruises and scars on your arms exposed under the dim light.
Ben’s gaze traveled over each mark, each scar, but there was no horror in his expression, no pity—only reverence. He reached out, his fingers brushing over a bruise on your shoulder, gentle and careful, as if touching something precious.
"They did this to you," he murmured, a hardness in his voice. It wasn't a question, but a statement. He knew too well.
You nodded, swallowing thickly. "They're fading." you said, looking away for a moment, as if you didn't want to acknowledge the scars.
Without a word, he leaned forward, pressing his lips to the bruise on your shoulder, a feather-light kiss that sent a shiver down your spine.
"Ben...?" you asked hesitantly. The small tremble in your voice made him stop, a flash of worry crossed his face, his teeth biting at his lower lip. He thought he might have overstepped.
"I'm... sorry," he whispered, pulling back. He feared that he had ruined whatever small trust that had begun to form between you.
But your fingers threaded through his hair, hand pressing to the back of his head to bring him closer again. "Stop apologizing," you breathed softly.
His eyes met yours and a small smile threatened to curl up on his lips, a mutual understanding settled between the two of you before his head dipped down to the crook of your neck. His lips brushed against your skin, kissing an old scar, then he kissed another, and another, his mouth trailing over each scar, each bruise, as if he was trying to erase the pain they held. It felt like an apology, like he was mending you.
His touch was careful, almost reverent, and you felt the warmth of each kiss seep into your skin, soothing the ache that lay beneath. You closed your eyes, letting the gentleness of his touch wash over you.
You felt your chest restricting, your breath becoming shallow, you couldn't remember the last time you'd been so taken care of. It was overwhelming, but you didn't want him to stop.
Ben’s hands were rough, calloused from years of fighting, but the way he touched you was anything but. He cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing away the tears that had slipped down your cheek without you even noticing. Then he closed the distance, pressing his lips to your forehead, a kiss so soft, so full of warmth that it made your chest warm and ache at the same time.
"You're safe," he whispered. "You're still here, and I'm with you." It wasn't much, but it was the most reassurance anyone could get out of him.
You leaned into him, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, and he sighed, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek, his gaze soft and unguarded in a way you hadn't seen before.
Slowly, he pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you as you settled your forehead against his chest, his heartbeat steady against your ear. You closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into his warmth. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt safe.
After a long silence, you spoke, your quiet voice breaking the quiet. "Hey... Ben?"
"Yeah?" he replied, his voice a murmur against your hair.
"I'll help you take down Homelander."
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