#literally looking at him. unable to look away | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ebodebo · 1 day ago

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Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away)

—thinking about meeting the big bad arkham knight for the first time…consume at your own discretion.

current warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, dark themes, fem!reader, dubcon, p in v, angst, some biting (literally just one lol), jason being a little meanie, ooc bc it's hard for me to write him being overly mean, no aftercare, blindfolding, depictions of violence, orgasm delay & denial.

please heed the warnings before reading!

When the Dark Knight himself called on your help, you never imagined it would involve sitting on the edge of an abandoned shopping mall on Founder's Island, of all places, to keep an eye on a new vigilante whose name you didn't even know.

You had been sitting quietly on your perch for what felt like an eternity, your muscles ached slightly from remaining so still, but you knew that patience was key.

You glanced down at your watch waiting for the slightest signal from Babs—heart racing with anticipation, hoping for the moment she would finally give you the signal to proceed.

"You find out anything else about him, Babs? You speak through the intercom in your mask to Barbara, unable to deal with the dead silence any longer.

"Negative," she mechanically says.

"Does anyone know anything about this guy?" You question, eyes glazing over some military militia fililing in and out of the mall.

"His background is fairly limited, which is why you're there—to gather more intel," she says, tapping away at her computer. "Sources can't seem to agree on much more than his name," she briefly pauses, "The Arkham Knight."

"The Arkham Knight? Who calls themselves that? Must be a fuckin' lunatic," you remark, narrowing your eyes to get a better look at the figures.

"If only that were the case," Babs sighs. "He's shrewd and sharp. More importantly, he appears to have a vendetta, which makes him particularly dangerous. He seems to understand Bruce thoroughly—he's done his homework."

"Could it be an well-adversed escapee who made it into the city? Maybe Bruce left a bad taste in his mouth after being thrown in the asylum, so now he holds a grudge against him?" You prob, the uncertainty hanging in the air.

"Highly unlikely. No one within the asylum would have the capability to organize, let alone lead, such a massive assault," Babs states firmly, her conviction unwavering.

"Well, one things for sure, this 'Arkham Knight' may think he knows the ole' bat, but nobody really knows him," you say, making a conscious effort to ease some tension.

"His militia is heading to the north side," Babs states decisively. "Approach from the south side to avoid detection."

"Gotcha," you aver, using a grappel gun to maneuver yourself off the side of the building, and into the gritty dirt beneath you.

"Be careful. He's—he's dangerous. Stay alert," Babs warns, her voice wobbiling ever so slightly.

"I will. Over and out," you affirm, with a nod.

You make your way to the south side entrance, staying low and quiet to avoid the militia thugs patrolling the area.

As you approach the stairs leading to the generator that Babs disabled earlier, you climb up and squeeze into the vent, positioning yourself just under the entrance of the department store.

Peering through the grates, you spot several armed thugs escorting someone into the building.

Gripping the voice synthesizer strapped to your thigh, you bring it to your mouth and quietly issue a command.

"Got another three out by the front gate. Three more by the other. Need backup out here," you say, your voice altered to sound like a guard's.

"Affirmative," one of the men responds, signaling to his comrades where they need to go.

They acknowledge him and shuffle out.

"It's almost too easy," you think to yourself before dropping through the grates and sneaking down the maintenance corridor leading to the upper floors.

Bruce had already done the bulk of fixing the broken elevator.

All you need to do is press the panel behind the elevator door to reveal the large shaft below, where the fans, thanks to Bruce, are now stationary.

You ease your way down the elevator shaft silently with your grapple gun. You find your way down with ease, feeling a little overly cocky.

Turning to your side, you see two thugs that are sprinting over to you, weapons in hand.

"Shit," you curse, propelling yourself up to kick one of their weapons out of their hands, before swinging your foot across his face with much force, sending him to the ground.

The other is more stubborn.

He shoots at you, but he misses.

You kick the weapon from his hand, but he swings at your face, sending you back before he slams your body into the ground.

You use what strength you have to rock yourself up, slamming your head against his, catching him off guard, and sending him back off of you.

You haphazardly stand as he sprints back towards you. You swipe your leg across, tripping him and making him fall to the ground.

You hit him in the head with your grapple gun, so he'll pass out. You exhale deeply, catching your breath, eyes catching sight of a hazy figure to your side.

"Ah. Look what we have here. A stray bat," a modulated voice spoke.

You turn to face the person wearing a militaristic version of a bat suit. "Who the hell are you?" You gruff, spitting some blood out.

"Who the hell am I?" He retorts, sounding amused, before his voice turns cold and distorted. "No. Who the hell are you?"

"A fuckin' fairy," you dryly say, spitting more blood out.

He lets out a gravelly, mirthless chuckle. "Got jokes. Huh?"

You narrow your eyes at him. "I'm not a bat."

He hums, inching closer, his heavy boots making a metallic thud with each step. "It's in your best interest to not lie to me," he leers.

"I'm not," you hiss. "I'm just helping him."

He hums, low and ominous. "Didn't think the big bat needed help," he sneers. "Guess I was mistaken."

Before you could speak, a low voice echoed around the room. "Commander," a militia thug says, addressing the man you were speaking to, not sparing you a glance.

"What do you want?" The modulated voice grits, clearly agitated by his intrusion.

"Someone's hacked our communication system. Impersonated a guard," the militia thug says in a reverent tone.

The Knight lets out an irritated sigh, eyes darting to the militia thug. "Little late on the heads up," his tone cold and calculated as he gestures to you.

The military thug draws his gun up to point at your head.

The Knight holds his hand up. "Don't bother. I'll take care of her," he exasperates. "If anyone else slips in these walls under your watch, I'll kill you."

The militia thug nods, dropping his gun to a resting position.

"Get out of my face," the Knight spits, striding the thug out of the room.

"You're him," you state with complete certainty. "The Arkham Knight."

"The one and only," his tone is smug and oozing confidence.

This doesn't make sense.

Bruce said he never comes to lower floors, especially with so little protection around him.

"What? Cat got your tongue," the Knight jests in a sarcastic, mocking tone, boots clunking as he inches closer.

"No. I'm—I'm just in awe of how ridiculous that suit looks," you sputter without realizing what you're saying, anxiety clawing up your spine as he steps in front of you.

He lets out a condescending laugh. "Was gonna go for black, but I didn't want Bruce to get all jealous," he drags out his words lazily, sarcasm apparent in his tone, before grabbing you by the arm.

You knew better than to try and fight him.

He had a whole militia on his side and you, a mere grapple gun.

He moved you through several corridors, passing several militia men strapped with weapons.

He had converted the once cheerful, bright mall into a military base with sandbags, barricades, and checkpoints around the area.

"Must have cost a fortune," you murmur under his tight grip as he leads you through another dark corridor.

"The cost is irrelevant. What matters is the results," his tone is dismissive and arrogant. "And soon Gotham will see the true value of my investment."

You nod weakly, turning to look forward as he leads you into a room heavily guarded by more militia members. Your eyes glaze around the room he pushed you into.

The room was sterile.

It had a bed to the side, maps, strategic plans scattered across the walls and various gadgets.

If you had to guess, it was a bedroom.

Though it was devoid of any personal touches.

Seemingly serving only as a place of respite.

"What is this room?" You ask curiously, staying stationary as he closes the door behind him.

"Rest room," his voice is dry.

"Why so sterile?" You ask, feeling a surge of confidence.

He hesitates a moment, deciding how much to reveal. "This room...serves its purpose. It's a place to rest and recharge. Nothing more," he says in a guarded tone.

"Why'd you bring me here?" You question with caution.

"You're a liability," he rasped. "I should eliminate you for the sake of my mission."

As he spoke, he closed the distance between you, his face inches from yours.

"What?" Your eyes lock with his, bile rising up your throat. "You're just...going to kill me?"

"I might," he answers, cold and dark. "If you prove to be resourceful to me...perhaps I'll let you live."

You let out a shallow breath. "How do you mean?"

"How do I mean?" He dryly chuckles as he retorts your question. "How do you think I mean?" He questions, already slightly irritated.

He bends down next to you to pick up a loose piece of fabric. "Put the blindfold on," he says hastily, ripping off your mask.

You jerk your face to the side as he does so.

"Why?" You timidly question as he presses the fabric to your chest.

"Stop asking so many God-damn questions," his words were icy and clipped. "You want to leave?"

"Yes," you whisper.

"This is the price of your freedom," he asserted.

"Put it on."

You hesitate for a moment before taking the piece of fabric and placing it over your eyes, tying it tightly in the back. Then you stand there, fingertips playing the hem of your shirt to try and suppress your uneasiness.

All you hear is a faint hiss from what you assume is his mask as he pulls it off his face, revealing a simple black mask that covers the majority of his face except his eyes and mouth.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, inhaling a deep breath.

"What's wrong? Nervous?" He taunts, his voice unmodulated, gloved fingers coming up to trace down your jawline.

You pull away slightly, not expecting it.

"Ease up," he says, his hand coming back up to brush up on your skin.

You don't move under his touch this time, letting his hand explore your body.

"Never touched a woman before?" You sarcastically question, as his hands skim to the bottom of the shirt, easing it up a little.

"What business is that of yours?" He asks, his voice a little defensive.

"Need to know what I'm working with," you jokingly say.

He jerks you towards him by your hand. You squeal at his harsh touch. "Make no mistake. I am in control. I can kill you or have you killed with the snap of my fingers," he snarls.

"Do not test my patience."

You release a shaky breath at his sudden change.

"Nod, so I know you hear me," he adopted his signature authoritative tone.

You nodded fervently to not piss him off again.

"Good girl," he praises, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt again, pulling it over your head and throwing it on the ground.

The tension was palpable as you stood before him in your simple bra and pants.

You were at his mercy.

The thought didn't scare you as much as it should have. Instead, you found a strange thrill in the unexpected, a pleasure in the unknown.

He steps closer, the metallic clank of his boots giving away his position. You can feel his warm breath on your skin. The feeling made your chest tighten and palms clammy with disquiet.

You jumped a little as you felt his lips press into yours with a blazing kiss, though your lips moved with much haste against his, moving a mile a minute.

What the hell were you doing?

Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, but your body seemed to have a mind of its own.

This was a recon mission, and yet here you were, kissing the very same guy you were supposed to help take down.

The internal conflict was tearing you apart.

This was you bartering for your freedom, you try to rationalize.

But then, why were you so hot and bothered?

You couldn't help the knot that twisted in your stomach at the fiery exchange and the pool of wetness you're sure had gathered in your panties.

"Take your pants off," the words fall off his tongue in a mumble into your lips, almost as if it was an ask.

But you knew it was an order.

Your hands move quickly to the waistband of your pants, tugging them down rather quickly. Then, you step over them to push them to the side.

He hums a sound of satisfaction. "So obedient."

You release a sigh, notably unlike your previous ones out of apprehension.

This one was all pleasure; there was no mistake about that.

His lips press back to yours briefly but powerfully before his hands tug down your panties.

"Christ. Do you like this?" His tone is incredulous and skeptical as he sees some of your glistening arousal.

You don't answer, only swallow hard.

"Answer me," he commands, firm and detached.

"Yes," you swiftly say.

He huffs at your revelation, outwardly revolted though internally pleased. You feel his hands push you back until your legs hit the edge of a bed before forcing you to lay back.

You lay docile as you hear the soft hiss of seals releasing as he shed his suit. The creak of armor plating echoed around the room, followed by a rustle of fabric and wiring as the suit's inner layer was exposed.

His fingers skim your thighs, eliciting a whine from you as he maneuvers himself on top of your body. Without warning, his cock slides into your aching cunt.

He grunts at the contact as he slips himself deeper into you.

Your body jerks forward, mouth hanging wide open as he pumps himself in and out of you, gripping your thighs tightly.

He moves quickly and has no plans to slow down anytime soon, and you need to come.

So, you slowly move your fingers down to rub small circles around your clit, moaning loudly.

He scowls, leaning down to bite your shoulder in warning.

You hiss as his teeth sink into your flesh.

"Behave," he instructs, pulling your hand away from your aching clit.

He grips your leg so it lays flat against his chest, letting him hit a deeper angle that has him groaning.

"What would the Dark Knight have to say?" His tone is venomous as he continues. "Huh?" He urges. "His latest project getting fucked by me?" He grits, fingers digging deeper into the fat of your thigh.

"Should I make you ask him?"

"Ask him your fuckin' self," you grit out, trying to concentrate on the orgasm blooming in your lower stomach.

He lets out a harsh, menacing chuckle.

"Won't have time to ask when I kill him where he stands."

You lean your head back, mouth agape, feeling yourself on the cusp of relief.

"Don't come," his voice booms around the small room, clouding your ears.

"I can't—I can't hold it," you whine, squirming with desire.

"You can and you will," he spat, pumping into you faster—testing you.

You let out a strangled moan as you grip the sheets under you tight, feeling your nails dig into your palms through the fabric, attempting to think about anything other than your raging need to come.

He lets out an anguished groan.

You could tell he was painfully close—as were you.

While he comes, certainly feeling euphoric, you are left with the feeling of tightness and a looming release.

"Can I—please," you beseech.

A twisted smile you can't see overtakes his face hearing you beg.

"Go on then," he stoically says—like he's being generous.

Your fingers reach down to rub your clit with speed; it doesn't take much time until you're moaning loudly, and your arousal coats your fingers, even dripping onto the sheets beneath you.

Legs shaking, you pull your fingers away, trying to recuperate.

You aren't sure you've ever had a better orgasm in your life.

"Flip over. We aren't done here," he issued in a low tone, just as you were coming down from your high.

You paused briefly before weakly flipping your body over so your stomach lay flat on the bed.

He grips your hips upward, positioning you so your hands and knees are pressed into the mattress, making you hiss due to soreness.

Pulling you by your hips back, he positions his cock into your entrance, slipping inside you with ease again. You wail at the contact, still delicate—he doesn't care.

He pumps faster and faster with no regard to your sensitive state, fingers digging into your hips as he pushes you back onto him.

You're already starting to feel a tightness in your stomach, signaling your impending orgasm.

You won't last long with him drilling into you so rapidly, and the groans that fall from his lips have you panting and wailing.

Since he appears to like a beggar—you beg.

"Please. Can I—can I?" You plead, feeling your cunt start to tighten around his cock.

"Oh. You're not coming again," he spoke, his voice gravelly and breathy. "This one is just for me—just for me."

You let out a whine as you feel him come, cursing under his breath again as you are left with the feeling of tension and longing.

His breathing is labored as he shuffles to put his gear back on. You stay in the same position he left you in until he orders you to do otherwise.

"Get dressed," his voice is modulated again.

It's colder.

You slowly get off the bed, stand, and attempt to skim for your clothes with the stupid blindfold on.

He rips it off. "Leave. Now. Before you find I'm not so merciful the second time around," his tone was eerie.

You nod feebly, gripping your clothes and slipping them on impetuously, not even checking if they are inside out or facing the right way.

Turning on your heels, you head for the door you came in, looking over your shoulder when you hear his voice again.

"And remember, you owe me for not slaughtering you," his voice dripped with malice.

You turn back, forcefully pushing the door open as you walk with intention and speed toward the back exit.

He knew you wouldn't tell the Bat anything.

What could you tell him?

That the Arkham Knight fucked you so good you're going to be sore for the weeks to come.

You slip your mask on to alert Babs that you are leaving the area.

Her voice booms through the intercom in your mask.

"Find anything of interest?" She questions, none the wiser.

You continue to walk, half listening.

"You there?" She implores.

"Huh? Oh, no. Nothing worth noting," you suspire.

"Are you alright?" She asks with a concerned tone.

"Yeah. Just...tired. Talk later," you hurriedly say, cutting the line and making your way over to your vehicle a bit away from the facility.

The sex was transactional, you remind yourself.

Though, that reminder didn't stop the Arkham Knight's presence from lingering on your skin for days after the interaction, a haunting reminder of the forbidden thrill you'd shared.

Gotham's darkness had never felt so alive and so painfully tempting.

a/n: so, anyways...it's back lol

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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 2 days ago

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okay this is the first time ever requesting anything EVER! But I love ur writing so I had to. I’m think a three way between the reader, James and Dave. But it’s like they’re fighting over who’s doing it right? And the reader is kinda innocent and has no experience. And they end up fucking her, taking turns like a competition bc they both in love w her? And, idk, maybe they met her bc she works for a catering business so they both know her? Idk if that makes sense lmaoo. Obviously only if ur comfy w it, but I beg!!!!

A/n: I will never not be mad that my computer glitched AFTER I FINISHED THIS and none of it saved so I had to start from scratch all over again 🥹 I WAS LITERALLY ADDING THE TAGS kill me 😩

Two days later and I’m still mad IT WAS PERFECT I genuinely think I peaked with that one 😫

Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), slight breeding kink, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

“What-what do you want, Dave?” You asked, struggling to bite back moans as James curled his fingers at just the right angle.

Dave could picture you now, doing everything you could to get off on your fingers without him there to help you. “I was just checking in, see how you were doing in the new place.” He said, twirling the phone cord in his fingers. “Didn’t realize how needy you were, want me to come over?”

“What’s he saying?” James asked, barely pulling away from you, his hot breath fanning over your cunt. His fingers didn’t stop, still thrusting into your tight hole to prep you for him.

Dave heard James over the receiver, anger already boiling in him. “Who’s that?” He asked, struggling to hold back to venom in his voice. “Are you with someone?”

James took the phone from you and hung up on Dave, going back between your trembling thighs. "Don't think about him, just think about me." He said, flicking your clit with his tongue. "Let me show you what you've been missing with Dave."

You wanted to get him to stop, you knew you should've, but you couldn't. His tongue, his fingers, he felt so good. Your head fell back and you reached down to him, fingers lacing through his hair and pulling him closer.

You’d just moved to L.A. not long after your tour with Metallica. They weren’t the first band you’d gone with for catering and such, organizing dinners whatever. First you went out with Megadeth where you met their lead singer, Dave Mustaine.

He seemed to have a thing for you, you didn’t catch on right away but he didn’t make an attempt to hide it.

Dave was great and helped you move into your apartment, it wasn’t far from his place which was why you gave him a key. Now you were regretting that decision.

Your moans filled the room, echoing off the walls. Still, you heard the keys jingling in the door, followed by Dave storming over.

He stormed into the room, swinging it open and stopping dead in his tracks at the sight. James between your legs with a firm hold on your hips as he thrust in and out of you at a brutal pace.

“What the fuck.” Dave hissed, pulling his shirt off over his head and making his way over to you. By the time he got to the bed he was just as naked as you and James.

Dave reached over for your head, turning you to him as he stroked his semi hard dick. He lined himself up with your bruised lips but James pushed him away before he could really do anything.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He demanded, unable to take most of his attention off of you wrapped around him. "She-she's never done this before, Dave, you can't just-just choke her."

Dave stared at James who was abusing your hole right now with his thrusts that lacked any rhythm. He was so close, he tried to push it off but he couldn't help the high that he was so close to.

Dave rolled his eyes and looked back to you, he knew, as much as he didn't want to, that his former bandmate was right. Your lips parted, moans left you, but you could barely handle this, let alone any more.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipped under his weight. Dave brushed your hair out of your face and cupped your cheek in his hand so you could look at him. He smiled down at you so warmly it distracted you for a moment from James brutal thrusts. "You're doing so good, darling." He purred. "You look so pretty like this."

"So fucking breedable." James grunted, his hand pressing down on your stomach where a bulge had formed from him. A soft gasp left you, Dave's eyes shot up to James, glaring daggers into him.

With a few more thrusts James came, painting your walls with his cum. He pulled out of you, letting his cum drip down your ass as he laid down beside you.

James wrapped an arm around you and pulled you to his side, letting you rest your head on his arm.

Dave scoffed. "Couldn't even make her cum."

James shot him a look. "I made her cum."

"Not with your dick, you didn't." James rolled his eyes at Dave's words. "You fuck like a bitch in heat."

"At least I fucked her." Dave had to stop himself from punching the blond.

He moved to kneel between your legs, looking over you a moment and running his hands along your sides with a featherlight touch. "Not good enough, obviously." He muttered. He leaned down, kissing your cheek and jaw, nipping at your earlobe. “Sweet thing needs it soft and slow.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt Dave’s cock push between your wet folds, bumping your clit. Dave let out a low groan as he pushed into you, feeling your walls around him squeezing so deliciously.

Dave paused to let you adjust even though there wasn’t much difference between him and James, as much as he hated to admit it.

Dave started rolling his hips, watching your reactions closely until his dick was angled just right inside you. You squeaked, eyes shutting tight.

Your legs wrapped around him, pulling him impossibly closer to you. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” Dave asked, giving your hip a gentle squeeze. “You look so pretty like this, taking me so good.” He cooed, smiling warmly down at you.

Not wanting to lay there uselessly James traced shapes on your stomach, hand moving lower until his rough, calloused fingers found your clit, rubbing it in pace with Dave’s thrusts.

His attention was on you the whole time, James hated that he wasn’t the one making you feel this good. He hated that it was Dave, of all people it had to be Dave. He made you cum on his fingers and he’d be damned if he couldn’t do it again.

Dave kept his rhythm, rubbing your thighs and sides, trying to ignore James’s fingers bumping his groin every few thrusts.

Your mind was a muddled mess, eyes fluttering in pleasure. You couldn’t focus on anything but the way they were making you feel, the way the veins on Dave’s dick dragged on your gummy walls, the bulge that came with him fucking you so deep. James’s fingers rubbing you smoothly, jolts of electricity shooting through you.

“That’s it, darling, just relax.” Dave purred, letting you come undone from every little sensation. You head fell back, back arching off the mattress as you came on Dave, walls fluttering around him and he followed suit not long after, filling you to the brim with his seed.

A low groan left him, his hips jerking a last time before he pulled out and laid down on the other side of you.

You shifted closer to James, the two mens cum mixed together with your own juices as they spilled out of you.

“Are you kidding me?” Dave demanded. “After that, you go to him?”

“Dave.” James said, rubbing your side and squeezing your waist. “Look at her.” He rolled you onto your back, letting Dave see the glazed over look in your eyes, your lips parted slightly with heavy breaths.

Dave couldn’t exactly be that mad at you now, not when you were so out of it. “Fucked dumb, huh?” He cooed, kissing your temple. “Just sleep now… I’ll kick James out later.”

The blond rolled his eyes and pulled you closer to him, taking you for himself while he could.

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 days ago

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@pamwritessometimes

I am so happy that you liked this one sweetie!🥰

The contrast between the magic of his childhood and the emptiness now is so beautifully done. I literally just want to hug him (and maybe throw the whole bottle away for him)! 🥺 The description of how the mansion went from magical to miserable is so vivid. I could feel the emptiness, and it makes you understand Ben’s pain so much more. Like, his dad being a mess and Ben turning to the bottle?

It hurt me to write so much sadness into his life 😭, but that's what the reader is for! To comfort him and make Ben feel loved 😊 I wanted to hug him the whole time too 😭. And thank you! I really like the idea that his family mansion has been sitting empty for years with no one taking care of it. It serves as it's own little headcanon in my head lol.

But then the jewelry store scene OH MY GAWD! When Hughie and Annie show up... that was hilarious. 😂 Ben trying to play it cool but failing miserably is so on-brand. Like,

RIGHT?? lol. He was guilty for no reason. Man was playing dumb to try and get away from Annie and Hughie 😂 Probably was about to fake amnesia to get out of that one lol. Why am I here? Oh wait what are all these sparkly things? 🤣

This level of care is so pure. And then Ben’s reaction? OOF. The way he holds it up, and reader starts second-guessing herself ... I started second-guessing myself lmaoo But then he’s like “You made me a sweater?” with so much emotion that I wanted to SCREAM. And that kiss? “Don’t you fucking dare.” YES, BEN, CLAIM YOUR SWEATER AND YOUR GIRL. 😭💖

She just HAD to make him a sweater! It's what she's good at lol. And it seemed really on brand for her to be a little scared of what Ben would think about getting a handmade gift instead of something really expensive 🥰. I will say that apparently there is a thing called "sweater curse" where you never make a sweater for your boyfriend because there's a superstition that you'll break up... BUT I'm going to pretend that this doesn't exist. I'm also not going to lie, earlier drafts of this story had a bit where the reader remembered Ben's angry reaction when she made a maroon sweater for Butcher's birthday and she realized that Ben was jealous... I took it out, but it lives rent free in my head LOL 😂

But oh yeah, I really liked imagining Ben's voice getting a little bit gruffer when he said that, and being unable to look at the reader because he didn't want to be too "emotional." It made me MELT. The man is SMITTEN 💗

And don't even get me started on the necklace and the pendant. The fact that Ben gave her something so deeply personal is EVERYTHING! Seeing Ben trusting the reader with somethin like this and being nervous gifting it... I'm not crying, really, this is just an intentionally smudged eyeliner.

I'm not going to lie, I too was agonizing over what Ben was going to get the reader for Christmas. He already got her a bookshelf, but writing the headcanon about his mom's jewelry was just too cute for me to pass up. I really liked it because I think it showed that Ben is starting to understand that his relationship with the reader is different and he is starting to understand that gifts don't have to be really expensive. Plus as you astutely said, Ben being a bit nervous to give it to her made me teary too lol.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING MY FRIEND! 🥰💗

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV and Reader POV

Summary: All Soldier Boy wants for Christmas is to find the perfect gift for you and all you want is for your boyfriend to have the best Christmas he has in forty years. Reader is a supe with plant powers. (Takes place in my Take A Chance On Me Series- 4 months after they get together, but can be read as stand alone!)

Tropes: Established Relationship, First Christmas, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 8.5K

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, Illusions to Sex, Fluff, Soft Soldier Boy, A little bit of self-deprecating thoughts, Soldier Boy is Mean to Hughie, Mention of drinking/drugs, 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.

Take A Chance On Me Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Song Inspiration: Little Things By ABBA

A/N: I know I should be working on the epilogue of "Take a Chance on Me," but @zepskies wrote a lovely Christmas fic called 'Twas the Night for Dean Winchester, and it really just got me in a mood to write some Christmas Fluff! 🥰

Soldier Boy POV

Ben frowned at the delicate necklace laid on the black velvet cloth in front of him, the 10 carat diamonds catching in the brilliant lights that lined the ceiling of the jewelry store. It was the eleventh piece of jewelry that he'd asked the woman behind the counter to remove from the display case, and it still wasn't right.

Ben had waited until the last possible moment to go Christmas shopping. It wasn't because he'd forgotten or because he'd been so busy he hadn't had time to shop or because he'd been called away on a mission, but rather Ben kept putting it off because he didn't want to think about it.

It was his first Christmas back in the U.S, and it was already proving to be one so different than the ones he'd known before.

Christmas for him in his youth when his mother was alive was filled with light and joy. Each room of his family's mansion strung with tinsel, adorned with holly and festive wreaths, and a Christmas tree so large that it put all others to shame and sent the smell of pine wafting thorough the large home. He remembered the lavish parties his mother threw with women in gorgeous gowns and men dressed in suits taking crystal glasses from silver trays, remembered the warmth in the kitchen as his mother baked and rolled fresh pastry, remembered the taste of the hot chocolate on the tip of his tongue that his mother made him before she sent him to bed on Christmas Eve, and remembered her tight embrace and the smell of her floral perfume on Christmas morning when he'd run down the stairs into the living room.

Ben's jaw tightened.

Christmas without her was different, the large mansion where he lived with his father was cold and dark. The hallways desolate and frozen in the winter months that lead into spring, the kitchen no longer heated by the warmth of the oven or infused with the smell of gingerbread, the parlor no longer tinkling with the sounds of glasses and the laughter of guests, the living room no longer housed a Christmas tree so tall that it made the Eiffel tower look like a trinket, and there were no longer Christmas parties where people danced into the wee hours of the morning and poured themselves into bed smelling of champagne and eggnog.

All that was left was the drunken stupor of his father, the harsh words that echoed down the long hallways, and the urge for Ben to find the nearest bottle and drown himself in it.

Ben spent most of his years as a supe trying to forget the years that followed his mother's death and also his Christmases as a supe washing away the memory of the ones that seemed to be infused with the magic of Christmas in his youth.

Ben spent them at Legend's Christmas party with his woman of the hour clinging to his arm, making painful small talk and waiting until the party turned into a hedonistic thrall of sweat and skin as so many others had. And the next morning when he woke up from the fog, he turned back to the little white line that promised to make him forget and the amber bottle that did little to ease the reality that started to sink in.

But this year was different, because he had you.

You who loved Christmas more than anyone he'd ever met, you who was slowly reminding him how much he used to love Christmas as a child, you who'd dragged him to go Christmas tree shopping before Thanksgiving, you who had encouraged him to help decorate the small apartment the two of you shared with so many Christmas lights it was blinding, and you who had planned something Christmas themed every week for the past month whether it be baking Christmas cookies or watching Christmas movies while drinking hot chocolate on the couch. And in each moment, you'd found some way to include him in it.

Ben wasn't used to that.

He wasn't used to someone wanting him there with them and someone like you going out of your way to include him in everything you did.

If a person had tried to tell him in the past that he'd ended up with someone like you, someone who smiled easily, someone who always put other people first, someone who actually gave a shit about him, someone who was always so damn warm and welcoming, someone who included in him everything you did in a way that didn't make Ben feel like an old grump, and someone who tried their best to make sure that Ben remembered every day that you wanted him around, he would have laughed in that person's face.

And yet there you were.

Truth be told Ben knew that the old version of him probably wouldn't have let someone like you close to him, let alone fall in love with them.

Ben hadn't met anyone else like you in the numerous years he'd been alive and he really didn't want to fuck it up. He'd fucked up so many other things in his life and he hadn't cared, but if it involved you, he wouldn't dare.

Hence, the current dilemma of him standing in the crowded Tiffany store at 8 pm two days before Christmas with you waiting at home for him to exchange gifts. Ben wanted to pick the perfect gift for you, but nothing felt right.

He'd never given much thought to what to buy someone for Christmas. In the past usually an expensive piece of jewelry, a handbag, a dress, or a car would have made any of Ben's many escapades swoon, but not you. Ben had tried to give you jewelry before, expensive jewelry that would have made any of those other women drop to their knees, but you were different.

And as much as Ben loved that about you, it was only making this worse for him.

The one time that he'd tried to give you a gift outright, a beautiful diamond and emerald drop pendant with earrings to match, you hadn't been impressed. Sure, you'd thought that it was beautiful, but you'd told him that you liked gifts that "meant something."

Whatever the fuck that meant.

And he knew for a fact that the 10 carat diamond necklace on the velvet pillow in front of him would mean nothing to you.

"Fuck." Ben murmured under his breath, and the saleswoman stiffened.

"Still not quite right?" She asks, adjusting the sleeves of her navy blue blazer. "We have some bigger jewel-"

"It's not the fucking size." Ben snaps frustrated.

He was running late. He knew that you were waiting at home for him to bring back dinner and to give him his present, the one that he was sure would be thoughtful and perfect for him because you were always so damn caring.

The other shoppers were pushing and shoving their way to the counters where other salespeople stood in identical navy blazers and white button down shirts, the tension and buzz of two days to Christmas electrifying the air, while Christmas music that Ben couldn't recognize played in the background.

His supe hearing made it worse. Sometimes it was a bit overwhelming and as much as Ben pretended that he didn't have PTSD, he did. Being surrounded by this many people was not helping. It was in moments like this when you were there, would hold entwine your fingertips with his and brush your thumb gently over the back of his hand to ground him as if you could sense his discomfort.

Ben hadn't ever had someone care enough to notice things like that. Another reason why he wanted to find you the perfect gift, because you put up with all his shit and didn't ask for anything in return.

"Ben?" He hears a familiar voice ask, hesitant, and he turns to see Annie standing a few feet inside the open doorway. S

he's wearing a black puffer jacket and her hair is hidden under a red stocking cap, while Hughie holds the door for her. Hughie's arms were laden down with bags while Annie's remained bare. The winter wind blew in through the space, flecking bits of snow onto the rugs that had been laid out to avoid the customers sliding through the sludge.

"Hey." Ben grunts, not quite smiling.

He wasn't good at talking to your best friend or her boyfriend. Personally he thought that Hughie was a fucking pussy and that he didn't have the balls to tell Annie no, but the one time Ben had told you that, you'd only rolled your eyes and told him that Hughie "loved Annie."

Ben loved you and he did have the balls to tell you no, but Ben thought that sometimes it was better to keep his mouth shut and do what you asked. Not to mention Ben hated saying no to you when it was something that could make you happy. Ben liked making you as happy as you made him.

He flinched at the thought. The self-deprecating monologue was beginning to seep in, the one that told him you were turning him into a "pussy" and that he should cut and run. The same monologue that made him make a mistake and run back to Vought a few months ago when he should have run to you.

Ben shakes it off.

"What are you doing here? I thought you two were going to leave this morning for Illinois?" Annie asks in surprise used to Ben's grouchy demeanor.

Your grandmother turned Christmas into a two day extravaganza, complete with a Christmas Eve and a Christmas Day party. And although Ben and you were supposed to begin the 14 hour drive to Illinois this morning, your grandmother had insisted the two of you catch a flight first thing tomorrow.

"Decided to catch a flight tomorrow." Ben replies.

Ben was secretly happy, because flying meant that he wasn't going to have to drive 14 hours in the snow. The two of you had driven to Illinois once before, and Ben hadn't minded it. You’d been more upset with him for not letting you drive, but Ben liked driving. Driving meant that he was in control and in an emergency situation he wouldn't have to reach over the console and yank the wheel to save the two of you and driving meant that you could relax in the passenger seat and work on whatever it was you were crocheting.

"Like us!" Hughie flashes Ben a wide smile that Ben doesn't feel the need to return. “You should have told us. We could have all traveled together!”

Ben's frown deepens at the thought at being stuck in a metal tube for hours with Hughie and he knew that if you were here you would probably elbow him in the side and tell him to "be nice." If anyone had ever tried to do that to him in the past, he would have ripped their arm off, but not you.

"Last minute shopping?" Hughie asks trying again.

Ben dragged his eyes over the numerous bags hanging from Hughie's arms. "Yeah. You too?"

"Mhmm. We just finished." Annie replies. Her gaze drops to the diamond necklace on top of the display case that the saleswoman is fiddling with. "Is that for-"

"No. Of course not!" Ben says sharper than he means to, shoulders tensing. But him standing in this store when he knew that you were waiting at home for him to celebrate Christmas made him feel like Annie and Hughie had caught him red-handed. "She doesn't like jewelry." He adds referring to you as he takes a step back from the counter and the sales associate who looks confused.

“But sir-“ The woman begins to say, but Ben waves a hand to shut her up.

"Why do you think that?" Annie asks interrupting the woman.

"Because she yelled at me when I bought her that diamond and emerald necklace!" He shouts so loud that some of the other customers turn to stare at him. "This was a fucking mistake, I have to go-" Ben starts to stomp out the door and past Annie not sure where he's going, but she shifts to stand in his way. His eyes narrow in annoyance, thinking about all the ways that he could move her.

He only put up with Annie because she was your best friend and he knew that if he did anything to her then it would upset you, and Ben didn't like upsetting you.

Well, he did think that it was cute when you got angry with him. Your eyebrows scrunched together, your cheeks turned a cute shade of pink, and your eyes seemed to glow with the force of your anger. There were few people who had the courage to tell him off, but the more you did it, the more he started to like it.

But this was different, and now thinking about you only reminded him of his current dilemma.

"Ben, wait a minute." Annie says.

"What?" He snaps

He could practically feel the seconds ticking away until he had to go back to the apartment. It was the first time that he'd ever dreaded going home and seeing you and fuck he hated every single moment of it.

"She does like jewelry." Annie's mouth drops into a sympathetic smile.

Ben tried not to get more angry when he saw the pitying look in her eye. He didn't need her pity, didn't need anyone's pity! He was still Soldier Boy damnit!

"Then why the fuck did she-"

"She doesn't like this kind of jewelry." Annie clarifies. "She like vintage stuff, simple, refined. Hell, I have to practically drag her away from the display cases at Atomic Archives."

"Atomic Archives?" Ben asks hesitantly. He had no idea what Annie was talking about. You'd never mentioned that place before.

"Yeah, it's our favorite antique store. It’s about two blocks over from where the plant shop used to be.”

"Can you show me where it is?" Ben says it before he can stop himself, his heart surging with hope at the possibility of finding the perfect gift for you.

"I mean I-" Annie begins to say, but Hughie interrupts.

"Babe, didn’t you say that the owner was closed this week because she went out of town?" Hughie asks her, throwing a sympathetic look in Ben's direction that made him bristle.

"Oh, right." Annie sighs.

Ben felt the hope inside pop and deflate like a pricked balloon, but the longer he stood there in the crowded shop, with the ostentatious jewelry twinkling under the lights, the buzz of the chatter of other shoppers, and the ridiculous new-age Christmas music that grated on his ears, he began to have an idea.

"Come on." Ben might have said it as a suggestion, but it wasn’t open for debate. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he needed Annie and unfortunately that meant that Hughie was going to tag along.

"What?" Annie sputtered.

"Come the fuck on. I don’t have time for this." Ben snaps back and stomps out the doorway past Annie and Hughie into the snow.

"But what about-" Hughie begins to say and Ben whirls around to glare at him, eyes narrowing. "Okay you got it. Lead the way buddy." Hughie nods his head in agreement.

"I'm not your fucking buddy." Ben sighs under his breath.

Soldier Boy POV

"This place is really murdery." Ben hears Hughie whisper to Annie from somewhere behind him. "Do you think Ben is going to try to kill us? Should I call Butc-"

"I'm not going to fucking kill you!" Ben snaps, pulling out his keys, the jingle of the metal echoing down the long hallway. "And I guess you really can't make a decision without that British fuck can you?”

The storage unit warehouse was desolate, but that was to be expected, it was after all two days to Christmas and most were more focused on buying things to put in their storage units than moving things out. The lights along the roof of the steel gray hallway flicker and throw long shadows over the navy blue doors of the units doing little to alleviate the creepy aura.

In hindsight Ben did agree that this particular storage space was "murdery," but it was the only one that he could get close to the apartment last minute. The same apartment that Ben has been trying to convince you to move out of.

It wasn't the safest neighborhood, and Ben hated the thought that you'd lived there as long as you had, walking home at night alone before he moved in. Now it wasn't a problem because Ben never let you walk by yourself. And as hard as you'd fought him not to live in a "big fancy apartment" all Ben wanted was to live somewhere where he could imagine staying permanently. Not in a small one bedroom apartment where he had to stoop in the shower, the bed barely fit in the bedroom, and seemed too small for one person let alone two.

He knew that he was wearing you down, but he still had a long way to go.

"Why are we here then?" Hughie asks.

"You're here because your girlfriend wouldn’t come without you.” Ben rolls his eyes as he fits the key into the thick padlock.

He was getting tired of listening to Hughie’s whining. He heard enough of that when he was stuck on missions with him, but he was tolerating him, for the moment at least. He had to, because if he didn't then he was never going to be able to find the perfect gift for you.

The interior of the storage unit isn't anything special. Ben didn't have much that he wanted to keep from his old life, as a supe or from his childhood. The things inside this storage unit were the only things that Ben had left that didn't cause him to be reminded of how his father chastised him or the drafty home that Ben returned to each time he got kicked out of another boarding school.

The mansion that had been in his family for decades had sat abandoned and locked up, hidden from the main roads so it was undisturbed after Ben's father died. Ben had gone to Philadelphia a few months ago to get things in order with the bank and prepare it for sale, but had been surprised when you told him you wanted to come.

He didn't think that you'd want to be involved in something so tedious, but it was almost as if you could sense how hard it was going to be for him, and you'd insisted.

Ben had no intention of setting foot inside, but you were curious and even though it made Ben's throat tight to walk down the dusty cobwebbed halls, the wonder on your face as you walked through made the cold memories of the world he knew before he was a supe fade into the background.

And this storage unit was all that was left of that life.

Ben located the old steamer trunk with ease. It was a faded gray now, but Ben remembered the day his father bought it for his mother. When the grayed sides were a soft supple black, the metal lock and edging were a polished gold, and the rose patterned fabric that lined the inside was soft and covered in bright pink flowers.

When Ben opens the trunk, he catches the smell of the floral perfume his mother used to wear and after all these years it makes him remember the tight hugs she'd give him the moment she sent him off to bed and the tight hugs she'd given him when he rushed down the stairs on Christmas morning.

He didn't like thinking about her or talking about her, but sometimes he would think of her when he was with you. Whenever you did something caring without being asked or whenever you took the time to check in to see how he was doing. Not that you were motherly, just that Ben hadn't had anyone in a long time care about little things like that.

The only other "relationship" he'd tried to have was with Crimson Countess and she didn't do any of the things for him that you did. There wasn't any comparison between the two of you as far as Ben was concerned.

He shakes off the memory the way he always does and moves some of his mother's clothes for the cherry wood carved box that he knows is in the bottom.

He opens it slowly, extracting a small velvet box from within, one of many inside that Ben probably should have taken to the bank ages ago for safe keeping. Ben's father had a tendency to buy things for his mother whenever he "messed up" and the small velvet boxes inside were proof of that.

Ben turns back to where Annie and Hughie are watching with curiosity at the door of the storage unit. "Here."

"Here?" Annie says hesitantly looking at the velvet box in Ben's hand.

"You brought us out here for a box?" Hughie huffs.

Ben narrows his eyes. "No. And if you tell anyone about this I'll turn you inside out, ass-wipe."

"Why do you always have to be so-" Hughie begins to say, but Annie nudges him in the side.

Ben wondered briefly if Annie and Hughie also tried to tolerate him the same way that he tolerated them for you.

"Wow." Annie says, her voice hushed and reverent when she opens the box with strands of her blonde hair falling out around the hat.

"You think she'll like it?" Ben clears his throat, trying not to wince at the question.

He hated that he was relying on Annie for this or relying on anyone in general. Ben would have rather taken a long walk off a short pier than anyone for help, but he was just so desperate to make sure that the first Christmas the two of you spent together was perfect.

You deserved that and Ben wanted to give it to you.

"She will."

"Good." Ben takes the box back, but decides to bring the wooden box with him back to the apartment just in case. His eyes narrow as he looks over at Hughie. "If you tell anyone about this, I'll shove your head up Butcher's ass. Then again, you two would probably enjoy something like that."

"You're welcome." Annie raises an eyebrow.

"Whatever." Ben mutters.

Reader POV

Ben was late and you were starting to worry.

Not that Ben was always punctual. The man was about as punctual as the White Rabbit, but rather Ben was sure to let you know when he was running late. Not to mention Ben was rarely late to things that he knew were important to you.

And tonight was special or at least you wanted it to be.

You look at your phone again to check the time, noting that it was nearing nine and Ben had told you he was going to be back at eight. You were trying not to think too much about it, busying yourself with other little things, like packing for your trip to your grandmother's home in Illinois. Something that you would have ended up doing about an hour before you had to go to the airport, but you knew that would only annoy Ben.

But you liked annoying him.

Ben's nostrils would flare, his jaw would flex, and the green of his eyes would darken in a way that sent a pleasurable shiver down his spine, but tonight you were too anxiety ridden at how late he was to care about making him annoyed.

Ben and you were supposed to leave this morning to drive the 14 hours to your hometown in Illinois, but you'd called your grandmother a few days ago and asked her if Ben and you could fly in instead.

You wanted the two of you have a Christmas alone before you dragged him back home and made him sit through the two holiday parties your grandmother threw. So you'd planned a quiet Christmas at home where the two of you could drink eggnog, watch some holiday movies, and exchange gifts before Ben was subjected to every single person you'd known since you were six.

But Ben didn’t seem to mind any of that.

Regardless, you were going all out this Christmas. It was Ben's first since he'd come back to the States and you wanted it to be perfect and it was the first Christmas the two of you were spending together as a couple.

The anxious energy that thrummed through your veins reached out into the numerous plants in your apartment, that shifted and stirred as your powers coaxed them forward. The vines that crept along the walls shook with an unnatural breeze, the Christmas tree grew an inch taller, the mistletoe hanging above the front door grew another few shimmering berries, the blackberry and raspberry vines that hung over your refrigerator fidgeted and wove together into a curtain while the tomato plant in the garden box above your sink dropped bright red fruit onto the counter, and the orange/lemon tree that sat behind your kitchen table blocking the view of the alley beyond shook it's branches for a moment. You could feel everything alive in your apartment leaning towards you as if waiting for your silent command.

Rex, the creature you'd created from broken vines and trampled leaves four months ago, flicks his eyes over to you sensing the same disturbance the rest of the plants inside could.

You bite the inside of your cheek fighting your urge to check your phone even though you know that less than a minute has passed since you'd last checked. Instead you fiddle with the ribbon on the lumpy wrapped gift that is perched on your lap.

Shopping for Ben had been difficult to say the least.

You weren't sure what to get your 104 boyfriend who'd lived as a hedonistic playboy for most of his life and you didn't like giving gift cards (you didn't think Ben would understand the concept) or giving people meaningless trinkets that they used once and then threw away (the Grinch was right about some things). You liked giving gifts that you put time and effort into that you were sure the recipient was going to love.

And you were sure that the package on your lap contained the perfect gift and you were excited to see the look on Ben's face when he unwrapped it.

Your cat Bean purrs where he sits beside you on the couch and Rex your, for lack of a better word, Dragon was watching the multicolored lights on the Christmas tree in the corner blink on and off.

It was bigger for your apartment than it should be, but Ben had insisted on getting it and you couldn't complain. Not when he genuinely seemed to be happy to stand there in the snow picking out a tree with you.

And after when no Uber driver agreed to pick the two of you up because of the tree, Ben had carried it on his shoulder fifteen blocks while you begged him to let you help. When you'd tried to take some of the tree, Ben had shifted it to his other shoulder and taken your hand instead, which wasn't what you meant when you reached out towards him, but you didn't let go, not when it was cold and Ben's hand was warm.

The one jammed into the corner of your small living room didn't have a leaf out of place or any signs of decay. You'd fixed that with a flick of a finger.

You'd gone all out with decorations.

Every plant in your apartment had lights of their own and ornaments that swung just out of reach from your pets. Christmas lights were strung down the hallway and there was a wreath on your bedroom door. Strands of mistletoe hung over every doorway in your apartment and there was one taped to the wall above your bed. That one was Ben's doing, but you couldn't complain, not when it felt so damn good to kiss him.

Ben hadn't spoken about the Christmases he spent in the past, but he'd listened to you talk about your Christmases growing up when the two of you decorated the tree with ornaments you'd collected over the years.

He might not have been big on sharing, but your boyfriend was good at listening. Not just pretending to listen, but actually being quiet and wanting to learn more about what you're saying. You'd thought it was odd when you became roommates and you realized just how much Ben listened and remembered what you told him, but now it was one of the reasons that made you love your boyfriend more.

You sighed, a happy smile on your face. You didn't think that you could feel this way about anyone, let alone someone you hated for so long, but you did. Ben was changing the belief you had about what relationships should look like, and you were sure that you were doing the same for him.

You hear the jingle of keys and the fumble of the doorknob as Ben slowly opens the front door and you leap from the couch.

"You're home!" You exclaim as your body hits his full speed, but he doesn't move. It was difficult for you to produce enough force to move him, difficult for anyone really.

Ben chuckles "Miss me Petals?"

He moves the plastic bag of Chinese food to his left hand so he can hug you back, his right hand fitting comfortably over the small of your back to hold you tighter against him.

You could remember the first time you hugged him, when all he did was stand there with his hands at his sides awkwardly while you held on to him as tight as you could. This was better. Ben's embrace is warm and strong, unyielding, but full of the love that he’d had such a hard time admitting.

"Yes." You squeeze him hard, smiling into his jacket that's flecked with melting snow, cold against your skin, but the warmth of his body soaks through the chill and into you. You sigh, nuzzling further into him. "I was worried-"

"Why?" Ben's voice rumbles through his chest, against your cheek.

"Because you weren't home yet." You pull back to stare up at him. His brilliant green eyes catch in the multicolored strands of Christmas lights, strung through your apartment. There's snow caught in his dark hair, turning to water and dripping down into his face in the warmth of the apartment.

Ben frowns. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You're here now." You smile arching up to kiss him. Ben groans into your mouth, his grip on you tightening as he deepens the kiss, pressing the hand on the small of your back just a little more to secure you against his chest.

You sigh softly, content in living in this moment with him for another few precious seconds. The heat of his body transferring into you the longer you stand pressed against him, soaking through your sweatpants and chunky sweater in the best way.

You'd never felt this way about anyone in the past. There hadn't been another boyfriend who'd treated you the way Ben did, no other boyfriend who'd cared about the little things, and no other boyfriend who you were so in love with. Even your first love so long ago faded into the background, the one you thought you'd never get over, and all that was left was Ben.

You're too excited about giving Ben his gift to eat. You sit cross-legged on the plush gray couch so close to him that your knees are touching the outside of his thigh as Ben places the boxes of food onto your coffee table. The anxious energy tingling in the pit of your stomach and buzzing in your chest so much that it's difficult to sit still.

And before Ben can give you your chopsticks, you thrust the lumpy wrapped package onto his lap with a wide smile.

"You first!" You say.

Ben shakes his head. "It should be ladies first."

“I’m not a lady Ben. We both know that-“

“Sorry sweetheart that’s the way it goes.”

“Don't be so old fashioned Gramps. It's 2024.” You roll your eyes at him, laughing at the cute frown that pulls at his lips when you use the nickname. Ben never liked it, but when you'd first met, Ben hadn't told you his real name, and you'd assigned him the nickname and it had stuck when you realized how much it annoyed him.

That was when he did everything in his power to annoy you as well, so it seemed like a good fit.

In all honesty, you didn't hate how old fashioned Ben was, if anything it was a relief, a reprieve from the way the modern boys treated women. It was nice to finally be with a man who actually gave a shit about you and cared what you wanted.

"And I really want you to open yours first." You plead as you lean towards him. "Oh, and this goes with it."

You reach down behind the couch to grab the small golden barrel cactus, avoiding the sharp yellow spines, and place it on the minimal space left on the coffee table. You'd crocheted a dark green sleeve to go around the terra cotta pot.

"You got me a cactus?" Ben snorts.

"I mean, I have so many plants in here and I thought that you'd want one that was yours. Plus, you'll never have to water it." You gesture with one hand to the numerous plants around the room, the ones bathed in the multicolored lights from the Christmas Tree, the ones with bright green leaves that unfurled towards the light, the others with hanging vines that trailed to the ground so thick that you couldn't remember the color of the wall, the apple tree with ripe red fruit, and the numerous herbs in the garden box that hung over your kitchen sink. "And I gave it a sweater."

"Why did you give it a sweater?"

"It’s used to a warm climate and because I had some yarn left over."

"From?"

"You're just going to have to open your gift and find out." You shrug, but can barely contain your excitement.

Ben shakes his head at you, but a smile twitches on the corner of his lips. You knew that your boyfriend loved you because you were different than anyone he'd ever met, and you reveled in that. You liked that even though Ben was older than you, that no matter how many other experiences he'd had in his life, you were a first for him just as Ben was a first for you.

He rips through the paper carefully, trying hard not to ruin what was inside, the sound of crinkling and tearing blocking out the Christmas playlist for a moment that you'd put on before Ben had come home, but you can hear the ABBA song clear as day.

For a moment he stares down at the gift not quite comprehending what the lumpy mass in his lap is, but then he picks it up.

It had taken a month for you to pick out the perfect dark green yarn that was soft but not too soft, green but not too green, and another two months for you to finish it when Ben wasn't home, but you were proud of the sweater that you'd made your boyfriend.

He stares at it for another few beats, holding it up to the light, and it makes you worry that maybe you should have bought him something at the mall instead.

"You made me a sweater?" He asks, there's something on the edge of his voice that you can't place, some traces of emotion that you're not able to identify.

"Yeah. I wanted to make you something." You clear your throat, worried. "I mean- you don't have any and I know that you keep saying you run a little warm, but I figured we're going to Illinois for Christmas and it might be cold."

Ben doesn't say anything and you start to feel the self-doubt come roaring in.

Why did I make him a sweater? I should have bought him some cologne or something.

"And you complained when Butcher sent you on that mission to Alaska last month and I just thought that-“ You press your lips into a tight line, shoulders drooping. “If you don't like it I can keep it for me-" You fumble, but before you can finish, Ben yanks you into his lap.

His hands cup your cheeks as he kisses you so fiercely that it wipes any doubts from your mind. You make a surprised sound in the back of your throat, but sink into the kiss. “Don’t you fucking dare.” Ben mutters against your lips.

Your blush burns against your face. “You like it?”

He nods. “ No one’s ever made me anything before.” His voice comes out a little bit gruff, as if he’s embarrassed to admit it, but it makes you smile.

“I figured and I wanted to change that.” Your fingertips dance over his forehead, brushing away the hair that’s fallen forward before your hand drops to cup his cheek, feeling the scratch of his beard against the palm of your hand. “But you’re sure you like it?”

Ben kisses you again, his large hands settling on your hips with an encouraging squeeze. “I do.”

“Good. Merry Christmas.” You wrap your arms around the back of his neck to hug him for a minute, sinking into his embrace with a happy smile.

"Merry Christmas doll." Ben murmurs into your hair, affection lacing his words.

Again, you send a mental thank you to your grandmother for understanding that Ben and you needed a day to be together and celebrate the way you wanted to before coming to stay. Not that you didn't like the Christmas Eve party or the Christmas day party, but you wanted to give Ben this. You noticed that Ben still had a hard time being in places with a lot of people when the PTSD came roaring back, and you wanted to show him what Christmas meant to you and hopefully show what Christmas would look like between the two of you as long as you were together.

“Sweetheart you gotta open yours now.” Ben’s voice rumbles, the warmth of his breath on your ear. It makes a pleasurable shiver thrill skate down your spine when you think of all the other times the two of you have been this close.

“It’s okay I can wait.” You hum into his throat, content, but Ben won't give in.

He pushes you back gently from his chest shaking his head. “Too bad. It's your turn."

"Fine." You start to move back to the space beside him, but Ben's hands catch on your hips to stop you.

"I didn't say I wanted you to move did I?" His smile turns more smirk.

"I-"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I like having you on top of me?" Ben purrs, kissing under your jaw, his beard scratching in a way that makes your throat tight.

"Keep doing that and the only thing I'm going to unwrap is you." You sigh in a half-moan, fingers curling into the hair at the base of his neck.

"After." Ben leans back to reach into his coat pocket and pulls out a small black velvet box that fits in the palm of your hand.

You hesitate to open it.

It wasn't that you didn't want jewelry for Christmas, it was that Ben and you had done this song and dance before after he tried to make you wear a diamond and emerald necklace with jewels bigger than your index, middle, and third finger put together. The whole time you wore it the only thing you could think about is how many groceries you could have bought with the necklace, how much you were afraid that it was going to break, and how much you feared that you were going to lose it or someone was going to try and steal it.

Maybe that was ridiculous, but extravagant gifts never appealed to you. You liked gifts that meant something, gifts that were heartfelt and thoughtful, gifts like the bookshelf Ben had gotten you months ago before you were dating because he noticed you needed one. Not to mention you loved just spending time with Ben. If he hadn't gotten you anything you would have been content with just sitting with him on the couch and watching a Christmas movie.

But you smile, because you don't want to hurt his feelings and because it's his first Christmas in forty years and you wanted it to be special.

It's Christmas and I will be thankful and happy with whatever he got me, because Ben was thinking of me when he bought it.

You think to yourself as you open the box.

The first thing you notice is that the box isn't as new as you thought, the inside of the lid is printed in ancient script that's a little faded, worn against the aged white silk that lines it. Your eyes drift to the piece of jewelry nestled on the pillow. It's a silver locket, hexagon shaped, and about the size of your thumb. The face is printed with weaving ivy leaves and roses that reach to a simple plain border.

Simple, stately, and completely you.

Ben is uncharacteristically quiet, but he breaks the silence first. "Do you-" He clears his throat, "Do you like it?"

He asks it hesitantly, as if he's afraid to hear your answer. It was unusual for Ben to look so nervous.

You can only nod, any words you had stuck in the back of your throat. Your fingernail finds the seam between the two pieces of metal and you gently unlatch the locket to see the picture inside. There's a piece of glass protecting a yellowed photo of a little boy who looks no more than five standing in a small black suit. You didn't think that they made suits for kids that small. He's smiling and one of his teeth are missing, but he looks oddly familiar.

"Who is this?" You ask. The more you look at the photo the more you think that you've seen him before.

"It's me." He says it quiet, almost a whisper.

"You? But-"

"It was my mother's." He clarifies and you inhale sharply in surprise.

"Really?"

He nods once, looking uncomfortable. By now you knew that moments like this usually made your boyfriend uncomfortable no matter how many times that you'd told him that he didn't have to be uncomfortable about being vulnerable. He was getting a little better, slowly, very slowly.

"Oh Ben I don't know if I should-" You shake your head, afraid to touch something so old.

Ben didn't often speak about his mother, but when he did, it was always reverent and respectful. You could see in his eyes how much he had loved her and how much he had cared about her. His father, Ben also didn't like talking about, but Ben never spoke of his father with the kindness that he'd spoke about his mother.

And you didn't want to take something like this away from him, something that meant so much to him, because of how much he loved his mother.

"No. I-" He clears his throat and Ben's hand tightens on your waist. "I want you to have it."

"But-" You stutter.

"What else am I going to do with it Petals? Can't exactly wear it myself." Ben chuckles, but the humor doesn't quite reach his eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s your mom’s and I-“ You trail off still looking at the photo of Ben as a little boy. He had the same mischievous twinkle in his eyes that you loved, the same unruly dark hair, but there was something different about him. He looked happier. It was the same look that Ben had when it was just the two of you together, the happiness that you wanted Ben to feel the rest of his life when he understood what it was like to be loved and cherished.

And it made you understand that the last time Ben must have felt loved and cherished was when his mother was still alive. It broke your heart to know that Ben had lived all these years without her and missed that in his life.

The locket was beautiful and the fact that Ben remembered what you said about liking gifts that “meant something” made your heart flutter.

Because this meant something. Ben taking the time to go through his mother’s jewelry and pick something out just for you that was special to him that he wanted to share with you, meant more than the emerald and diamond necklace he had tried to give you months ago.

There were tears burning behind your eyes the more you look at the photo of the little boy.

Ben is watching you. “Well-“ He shrugs. “I'm an only child. Which means I don't have any siblings who have wives to fight over this stuff so, I figured that if anyone was going to get it, it should be you. If you don't take it, it'll sit in that fucking storage unit. Seems like a shame."

You don't answer.

"And-" He hesitates, "I think my mom would have wanted you to have it. Hell, she might have given it to you, if I'd brought you home to meet her."

Your cheeks flush.

Ben studies you for another minute, before you watch his smile twitch into a frown. "Fuck, I knew I shouldn't have gotten you jewelry. Annie said that you liked jewelry, but I told her you didn't and now the bitch is probably having a good laugh with that pussy of a boyfriend! Forget about it sweetheart, I'll go get you something else right now-" Ben tries to take the box from you, but you swat his hand away.

“Don't you fucking dare!” You shout, using the same words that he said to you when you tried to take his sweater away.

"But you don't like it-"

"I do! And knowing how much this means to you, makes it better."

"Really?"

You nod, a wide smile wiping away any uncertainty in his gaze. "Will you help me put it on?"

"Sure." Ben says gruffly. His voice has lowered a little, and you know that it's a mixture of pride and love mingling in the tone. It made something break open deep inside and flood your ribcage with love.

You turn your neck to the side, pulling your hair away from the skin as Ben hooks the chain together at the nape of your neck. The cool metal of the necklace against your skin and the weight are unfamiliar, but you already knew that you wouldn’t be taking it off anytime soon. "It's perfect!" You pull Ben in for a kiss, threading your fingers into his dark hair.

Ben smiles into your mouth, holding you tight against him as if he never wants to let you go and you don't want him to.

It was odd to think that you'd only been together for four months, but you couldn't imagine your life without him. It seemed ridiculous for you to think that Ben was it after such a short time, but he was. You'd never rushed into anything in your entire life, but then Ben was there shattering every expectation that you had, enough to make you throw your inhibitions to the wind and jump feet first into the unknown if it meant he was with you.

The kiss is softer than the one the two of you shared at your front door, filled with more emotion than Ben usually let the world see, but he was opening up bit by bit, learning that you wouldn't judge him for that and it made you feel sky high.

This was the relationship you'd always wanted, and you never thought that you'd have it with Ben, but now that you were here you wouldn't change a thing, because it wouldn’t have put you in his arms.

"You can change the picture." Ben murmurs into your lips.

"No way. I don't have any kid photos of you. And I'm pretty sure you'll see all of mine this week.”

“I bet you were cute.” Ben smiles, raising one of the hands from your hip to push your hair from your face. “Hard to imagine you being any other way sweetheart.”

"Debatable." You sigh, nipping at his bottom lip in a way that makes Ben pull you back to him.

And when the kiss turns hungry, with you gripping his hair so tight you'd be sure that it would hurt anyone else, and with his fingers pushing up the bottom of your t-shirt to feel the warmth of your skin against his hands and find the dips and curves of your body that make you moan into his mouth, you can't help but think that this is the best Christmas you'd ever had.

"I do think it's later sweetheart." Ben's eyes shine with mischief, mouth pulling into the familiar smirk that makes your knees weak.

"Good. Because I have one other gift for you." You moan as Ben's mouth trails down to your jaw, his beard prickling against the sensitive skin, in a way that drives you mad.

"It's not another plant is it?" He bites just under your jaw and you tighten your hands in his hair, gasping softly. "Fuck, I love those sounds you make baby." Ben murmurs.

"No." You've lost all ability to form sentences, not when he's so perfectly warm and the trail of his hands working up your abdomen consumes you.

"Give it to me later." Ben's eyes flash a startling green. "I want to unwrap my favorite gift right now."

"Keep going the way you are, and you're gonna find it."

Ben hesitates, before he raises his hand to feel the end of the brand new lingerie that you'd bought special for tonight, his eyes darkening with the realization. "Well then, Merry Christmas to me."

Ben's mouth falls against yours, but before he goes further, he pulls back just for a moment, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. Your eyes widen in surprise.

"Ben?" You question.

"Merry Christmas Petals." He whispers, dragging his thumb over your cheek, and nudges his nose against yours in a gesture that warms your heart. He didn’t do things like that often, but whenever he did it always stood out to you, because it added on another layer to the man you loved with all your heart.

"Merry Christmas Ben."

A/N: I thought that they deserved a little Christmas fluff. I'm hoping that I have time to drop a follow up to this before Christmas, because I kinda want to write what happens when they go back to Illinois, but we'll see what happens! ❤️

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 🥰

Taglist for Take A Chance On Me:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @ej13928 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @modiddys-blog

@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies @fireskyy

@n-o-p-e-never @nesnejwritings @am0rem @tpwkcalli @momggn

@fitxgrld @whimsicalcherry @ladysparkles78

@spxideyver @zepskies @impala67stellawinchester

@reidtomewinchester @samanthadegaro @glossy01 @nikimisery

@tunnelvisionlove @incandxscents @winchester-stark @samahanta

@melonmochi

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@pixviee @filmologetica @yvonneeeee @c1nnamong1rl29 @kmc1989

@livya99 @cherrygirl444 @tulipsvanilla @angrydragon90 @chi-raz

#soldier boy x you #little things #soldier boy fanfiction #fic rec #soldier boy x reader #lovelyreaders

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seraphicloves · 1 day ago

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𝒋𝒋𝒌 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒘 𝒂 𝒔𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓!

⊱✿⊰ summary: requested by anon; jjk boys reacting to a reader who snort (laughing not drugs) and is insecure abt it

⊱✿⊰ warnings: insecurities, overall very cute!!, romantic undertone possibly(?), should be gender neutral, one suggestive comment in toji's and in choso's

⊱✿⊰ notes: ty to who requested this! i included only the canonically adult characters bc you said "men" but feel free to ask for a pt.2 with other characters you want to see (politely ofc i am sensitive)

Satoru Gojo:

❀ he thinks you are the cutest thing, ever. seeing the way you tilt your head back with laughter, eyes shining with unshed tears. and oh god, that snort? you were so adorable he was sure he was going to explode

❀ gojo definitely teased you about your reaction, although not maliciously of course. he'll give you that signature smirk and say in that cooing voice, "aw, baby! that was so cute, do it again!" and absolutely adore watching you fluster

❀ he would not allow you to be insecure. you are like a literal god, how could you be insecure? especially over something seemingly miniscule. he'll tease you of course, but he makes sure you know he doesn't think its weird. hell, he'd probably make sure to snort around you later, so you feel less alone.

Suguru Geto

❀ laughter is a rare thing for the cult leader, even rarer with such a genuine one. but he doesn't seem to mind seeing your eyes twinkle with amusement and a snort escaping you.

❀ "hm? i didn't think i was that funny." he mused, unable to suppress his slight smirk. he reveled in the way your eyes widened and your face warmed, your embarrassment prevalent.

❀ he could tell you were insecure about the noise you made, which surprised him a bit. what surprised him even more was the fact he cared how you were feeling.

❀ "it's nice to know somebody appreciates my humor." geto said, trying to alleviate your insecurities. he wasn't sure why he cared about you, but he did and he wasn't planning on stopping.

Ryomen Sukuna

❀ he probably wasn't purposely making a joke, so he definitely thinks you're making fun of me. all huffing and puffing, asking, "why are you mocking your king in such insolent ways? answer me, human."

❀ then he figures out you're not mocking him, and feels a slight sense of pride. you thought he was funny? he would be sure to try and say funnier things mors often (though his lame attempts at knock knock jokes are more dorky than anything)

❀ when you apolgize for snorting, he was a bit confused. what were you apolgizing for? so he simply said that, "don't be ridiculous, peasant. it was an adequate reaction." which was his way of saying it was cute.

❀ he refuses to let you be insecure, as long as he's aware of it. for some reason he wants to worship you like a queen, he has the strange urge to make you happy always. so he makes sure you know you weren't weird for snorting. hell he might force his servants to snort around you so you feel more comfortable.

Kento Nanami

❀ he was probably confused by something you said jokingly, taking the statement literally. it was so absurd you couldn't help but laugh a little which turned into a full snort.

❀ nanami will give you a mildly amused look, mixed with a hint of confusion. "did i say something funny?" and you would look away with a guilty smile

❀ he might not admit it, but he loves your laugh and your snort. it felt so pure and untouched by the grim realities of life. he liked how happy it sounded.

❀ he'll secretly overexaggerate his lack of understanding a joke, taking things in a literal sense even if he knows what you mean. he also tries out some dad jokes on you, of which are so bad you can't help but snort

Toji Fushiguro

❀ he was probably insulting someone or saying something so awful you can't help but snort. he'd look over at you with surprise before he gave you a shit eating grin

❀ "hm? what a pretty noise, i wonder what others you could make..." yeah he's a shameless flirt, literally not caring if you know how much he wants you. toji is confident in himself.

❀ he adores your snort, wishing he could always and only be the one to make you feel happy. maybe he'll make more comments that you would find funny, just in hopes to be the one to put that pretty smile on your face

Choso Kamo

❀ he has zero clue what he did to make you snort, he had just been trying to ask a question about some balls? what was so funny about the toy?

❀ he very bluntly asks you, "what did i say that was funny? I wanna hear you make that noise again." He gave you a smile, brown eyes twinkling.

❀ that would practically just erase any insecurities, with how genuine his enjoyment in your little snort was. and anyway now you were more focused in having to explain to choso the misfortune of having a dirty mind.

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danwhobrowses · 3 days ago

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Critical Role C3 Ep 118 - Initial Thoughts

Well guys I maaaade it

It's 8am (well 9 now) and frosty in England and I had like, 1 hour light snoozing, I'm currently basking in the delusional energy being sleep deprived sustains until the inevitable crash but for now, an episode happened!

First of 2025, first I could watch in full thanks to PTO and willpower, shivering with nerves all day so let's cover the thoughts I remember at least (was staying as still as possible to avoid making noise for the others sleeping, so couldn't do the clickety clacks - and as you can tell by my use of 'clickety clacks' that my verbage may be as loopy as a rollercoaster at times)

Spoilers for the episode

Adorable abnormally named animals that looked more like a pupper and a gerbil, Bandit was true to his name

Oh geez more fucking monologuing, even Sam had the cup thing for it XD

Remember that fanart of Laudna, Orym and Ashton kicking Liliana after verbally dressing her down? Well that but this time with Ludinus, loved the pressing

Got some mini Ludie backstory and it was 'my family died as collateral in the Calamity', it's so hilariously basic at this point he deserved every bit of Ashton's 'get the fuck over it'

Part of me also couldn't help but think of Istho, the reluctant to die Paladin of the Lawbearer imprisoned at the Bloody Bridge literally a year ago, they had the same mantra

Would've been cooler to get a bit more Lawbearer sauce before in this campaign but fairs enough

Fearne just wants to give everyone cupcakes and candy and treats being the vessel of the God Eater like winning the lottery and I love her for it

It's not lost on me as an Ashton fan that Ludie never asked them what they wanted. There's a gist yes of controlling your own fate but still, got a lil' under your skin didn't they?

Chet no, don't try to open the cascade of sigils!

HA! Poofed out of his second monologue

Braius don't call him, you're gonna call him aren't you?

FUCKING LYING WHORE CHEATER BITCH Azzy, how's the family?

Brennan is untouchable but Matt's Fucking Lying Whore Cheater Bitch Azzy M still gives me the feeling of 'you know all the right things to say but I can still hear your manipulation'

Family, Braius, is right here! I get he's been around longer but first it's 'chase away and I'll remain' now it's 'don't let it out', mixed messages

I probably would've laughed to death if Ludie got distracted by the toy, though I do wish it was an Intuit Charge

RAVENOUS VOID OFF THE FUCKING BAT?? I was literally looking at that spell a few days ago

The aoe and save was so fucking high too, and I could've sworn Ashton can't be moved in Titan form, and resists all but Force Damage

Oh shit the neck! The neck comes back around!

God the cast rolled so badly for so long, and he kept saving and using his resistance

Not the neck ladies, the body, da body!

PATE I LOVE YOU

Pate noooo!

IRAAAAAAA I LOVE YOU!

MISTERRRRRR! I LOVE YOU!!

ASHTOOOOOOOON I LOVE YOU! That is my motherfucking barbarian tank killing the concentration

OH MY FUCKING DAYS POWER WORD STUN IMOGEN I FUCKING LOVE YOU!

I was counting the damage, once you knew it was below 150 all it needed was the math

Bless Ashley for wanting to go big but couldn't because of aoe

It had to be Orym, IT HAD TO BE ORYM, how's that for resolve?

Ira laughing in Ludie's face was cathartic too

'I don't want to hurt anyone, or kill anyone' - SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE ASHTON HATERS IN THE BACK!

We were so fucking close though, so close to the 'we can't absorb it but it can't stay here' point, we could've had an option C like sending it to a Demiplane

Surprised me how much Laudna pushed for pro-Predathos, given Imogen's reluctance, and Orym just unable to argue it because it's been argued to death

Oh god is he not dead? Fuckery duck, Laudna you have that ghost tracking thing right?

'What did you do to me, I used to be fun' - you still are you just have mushrooms planned with Fearne for after

Imogen you talked a lot about being free to decide your fate and now you're literally walking towards what 'fate' planned out for you

We are LITERALLY approaching what Ludinus wants to do

Child's voice is a nope, like an absolute nope

Like a 'Guys did we not learn from the Dominox?' nope

Because GUYS DID WE NOT LEARN FROM THE DOMINOX??

Orym insight checked a God Eater, got a whisper, stepped between it and the Ruidusborns, and that was not a red flag??

The collective 'ohhhh' though

Like, I get hearing it out, trying to see if we've simply been misinformed, but the proof is kinda in the pudding and it is dessert time

It knocked Chet into a wall for opposing, that's a nope

Hey Matt don't you think the Primordials partly responsible for this cage would have some resonance with it since we're getting clips of Tengar and Orym's Wildmother vision for all to see?

Imogen and Fearne NO

Predathos the nice hot faun lady told you to wait

Fearne YES but IMOGEN NO!

Fearne Yes! ...right? Answer the question cliffhanger! RIGHT?

I mean she heard her, that's something, are we gonna have to give Imogen her first death in the campaign? Can that staff factor in at all?

Definitely peeved that Imogen went and pulled a Frodo right at the last moment, but like the One Ring in Mount Doom she is being lulled by Predathos muddying her instincts, so I can kinda see why she thought it the kindest option, also le drama I suppose, Laura Bailey had to put her own third wedding one-shot in jeopardy

I have to be at work next week and there's a likelihood that the worst ending happens and Ludinus didn't get his ancient elf ass handed to him permanently ;_; so the stage is different, the health and spell slots are lower, but the fear is the same and I can't stay up for it

Contrary to others though I do still want a happy ending, the Hells aren't bad or evil for what they were attempting; the intentions was still good it was just not right. Someone else would've come, if not Ludinus then someone else with the same plan, but this is why we should've discussed alternatives earlier, this is why a united goal is important and why the Arch Heart fucking up the plan with his visit rubbed me the wrong way

At least now the Hells are gonna be on the same page with Predathos, it's about saving your people - so, save your people

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bb-bugspot · 2 days ago

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Almost the same.

[Part 2]

After his encounter with Poseidon and the death of the rest of his fleet, Odysseus stress passed major points and his wings worsened further, bigger bald spots and unable to move to really do much other than ache. He didn’t let Eurylochus close to them, nor even see them, far too into his guilt to even let anyone see how the very same things that he was so proud off be nothing more than a pitiful sight.

On Circe’s island, when meeting Hermes, he finally let himself cry out after his grandfather had greeted him and noticed straight away how he was using his hat and not even the tip of his wings were visible. It was horrible, shameful even, to let Hermes see the state of his wings, which were quite literally a show of how badly he was doing mentally.

Thankfully, Hermes took his time on helping the feathers of his wings start growing back again, slowly of course, but it would only be better and faster as soon as his mental state got better. When facing Circe and winning, baby, white feathers had already been growing and his wings looked like those of a fuzzy baby chick but it was better than having them completely bald.

They stayed that way until he ended in Calypso’s island, where she made sure to have his feathers grow back up healthy, even if he’d rip them off with being trapped there for seven years with her.

When he met Hermes again, the god wasn’t really surprised to see them fully grown out and healthy again, although they weren’t nurtured by love and only obsession, it was at least a small comfort to see them healthy again and he made sure to preen them with Odysseus permission.

Finally ending his journey after defeating Poseidon, he was hoping to actually be able to rest and have his feathers fully grow back again instead of staying like those of a baby chick, but having to kill the suitors after watching them and his family stopped him from doing so. Not that it mattered that much, as soon as all that was done, Penelope helped him with it and Telemachus too.

Telemachus wings were like his and Hermes, white for the most of it but with the tips an aquamarine color, he guessed it must be because of how much they both look alike and yet are still different. When Odysseus was able to see them better in the light, it almost made him tear up again at how beautiful they were.

As for his own, while he grew used again to being in his homeland, when the feathers started to grow healthily again, they were..different, for so to say.

Sure, they had been red after slaughtering the suitors two weeks ago because of all the blood he had on himself, but it turns out that after they grew back again, the tips were no longer purple and instead were red. He should’ve seen that coming, with so much divine intervention and bloodshed on his life, something had to change at least physically too.

It was a bit heartbreaking, seeing that beautiful purple gone from his feathers and instead replaced with a bloody red, although a bit more pale. He learned to like it, though, after having a breakdown because of it for who knows how long; Penelope and Telemachus had found him crying already before they helped him calm down, which he was really thankful for at the time and currently too.

As he gazed out to the outskirts of the island, out in the gardens, a familiar laugh pulled him out of his thoughts. He sighed, a smile on his face as he looked behind him and found none other than Hermes, his great grandfather looking at him with a wide grin on his face and a few things on hand; Odysseus his gaze widened before he rolled his eyes and walked towards the enthusiastic god, unable to really deny what he had been craving after arriving home again.

Both went back inside and towards one of the rooms, a bit of privacy never hurt anyone, after all, and he knew that the winged god would have questions for him.

#whew #part two guys #im scared #epic the musical #epic the vengeance saga #epic hermes #epic odysseus #epic fanart #idk how to do tags man #epic the ithaca saga #epic the wisdom saga

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vincentvalenfine · 3 days ago

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Could I request waking up next to Vincent for the first time? Maybe a morning cuddle? Thank you in advance. 🫶

You didn’t realize how nice it would be to feel skin instead of leather under your fingers when first waking up. Vincent has his scars of course, each one a story of trauma and survival, but even those are pleasant to feel instead of the shirt that so often got in your way before. There's silky smooth skin between them anyway, and it's no wonder you thought the feeling was a dream at first.

With all the warmth you've built up under the blankets, his cooler temperature is a welcome reprieve. His chest makes a comfortable pillow on the side that isn't mapped out in scars - one from Hojo, one from Lucrecia, one from Rosso. He'd softly and nervously labeled each one for you last night, waited for a rejection that never came when he was so certain his scars would scare you away. These prove I'm a monster. What human could ever survive such grievous wounds, after all?

Monster or not, I still love you.

Vincent had cried at that. That was to be expected, of course, and you’d held him through it until he was ready to be kissed and loved on again.

Right now he's still out cold, breathing so slowly you could mistake him for being in hibernation. It gives you time to quietly admire him without making him uncomfortable, to soak up the feeling of being trusted by someone so abused by life that last night was the first time he’d taken his shirt off for someone willingly in literal decades. He'd been so gentle, treating you like a glass bauble until you had finally begged him to be firmer, unable to stand how much it felt like teasing. It took a lot of coaxing until he had finally let himself get lost in the moment, let himself be your lover foremost and given you the first of many bruises and bitemarks that now in the soft morning after ache as a pleasing reminder of all the places his mouth had been.

Vincent’s hair is draped over half of his face, and when you carefully brush it back he awakens with a start. A deeper breath lifts you up along with his chest, prompting you to snuggle into him, and his head lifts to look down at you. There's just a brief look of confusion, and then his expression is so soft you could melt.

"Good morning, Vincent."

You're going to treasure this moment long after it's gone.

#vincent valentine x reader #can you imagine the relief of feeling so safe that you can undress for the first time in decades #the euphoria would be overwhelming i bet

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mr-stottlemonk · 11 months ago

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couldn't look away even if he tried.

#monk 2002 #adrian monk #leland stottlemeyer #stottlemeyer x monk #stottlemonk #monk tv: s01e12 #mr. monk and the red headed stranger #how far gone could leland be for monk?#the answer is this^ much and WAYYYYY WAYYY WAYY MORE #literally looking at him. unable to look away #until willie nelson is going “mr. monk” and then leland is like “oh shit yeah here to arrest this guy”#adoring his malewife #i cant stop kicking my feet as i cackle giddly at how the captain is truly gazing at him with so much attention!!

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dykesynthezoid · 3 months ago

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Think it would be fun if we found out Armand DID absolutely throw 18th century Lestat around at least a little bc you knoooow it would invoke the Magnus trauma. Also it just kind of makes sense bc Armand is so much older and more powerful (at least pre-Lestat Akasha juicebox); but honestly mostly the Magnus thing. Something about Lestat throwing himself into vampirism with the assurance that at least now he is powerful, at least now no one will ever have power over him like that again. And then out of nowhere finding he is actually sorely mistaken on that front.

#if Armand did get his ass kicked I think it would probably be on purpose. like. look at him.#Lestat caves so quickly in the books when he’s being pathetic #it feels in a similar vein to Lestat realizing how much better Gabrielle is at being a vampire literally right away #he throws himself into this monstrous creature of the night act bc he at least sees security and ego in it #and then it’s like. what if you weren’t even that good of a vampire actually.#oh and Lestat feeling LOVE for another man who controls him like that!#it would give a whole other dimension to him being unable to admit his love for Armand. bc there was a moment where he loved Magnus too.#lestat de lioncourt #armand #iwtv tv #tvl #iwtv #lesmand

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al-luviec · 3 months ago

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compiled whatever this is (and I run out of tag space)

meh HoT gifs (3/?)

#alek gifs #ninjago #ninjago krux #ninjago acronix #hands of time #time twins #alternate title to this series is : stuff i noticed after watching this season 10 whole times #okay actually thats a lie. i realized this the 3rd time around #i think of acronix and how he barely makes any decisions for himself and i go crazy #ppl equate that with him feeling forced to do stuff.. uh hes always been a follower guys!!#cue him calling wu “master wu” even after the twins betrayal. him liking machia bc shes “mean” and bossy #he has no issue with following orders lol. prepare for a long acronix rant one day #contexts -> gif 1 barely counts i just wanted to include him looking at krux. he does this a lot during that fight #gif 2 is before they kill blunck and raggmunk (idk how to spell their names still ... sorry)#gif 3 is before they were going to kill wu in the golden hour legacy short. which is canon !!#gif 4 is before they sent themselves into the temporal vortex #that one post that was like “are we still doing revenge? yeah? cool” bc thats basically acronix #there is something fundamentally wrong with these two's brains but idk how to describe it #krux who literally lost his mind after losing his brother to the point he adopted an entire identity #“he just needed to go undercover!!” counter point as soon as acronix came back he was unable to pretend to be saunders. he acted super weird #like when kai was in the museum he couldnt pretend to be this person he wasnt. acronix was back !!! so was he. krux was 100% going to kill #the smith sibs if maya and ray didnt comply. also.. canonly they knew him when they worked as teachers back in s3. he watched them grow up #and pretended all was well meanwhile their parents were being forced to work and slave away to build the iron doom. he is not normal #then you have acronix who thrives off of violence and is described as throwing himself into battle like a blunt object. has no regard #for himself as a person and just takes (almost) everything his brother says as gospel. s7 couldve done smthn really cool with how #the only thing the twins ever really disagreed on was technology. also ive went on a semirant about how krux's hatred for tech was misplaced #hatred for losing acronix. wanted to travel to the pre modern era? okay well whyd he pick 40 years ago specifically. also NOTE that they #went back after their past selves had lost. they wouldve faired better if they went and helped their past selves. also the reversal blade #had already fallen so when the twins went back in time there was two kruxes. he literally went back to when he had been all alone for the #for the first time. he went back to when his life was ruined and his brother was gone!! but he had nix with him this time . ughdhf

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widowshill · 4 months ago

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the locket, motherhood, & marriage.

139 / 139 / 136 / 136 / 191 / 191 / 191 / 142 / 134 / 143 / 143 / 144 / 144 / 139 script / 144 / 280 / 144 / 144 / 192 / 279 / 279 / 279 / 279 / 143

#compilation tag #➤ victoria winters. ┊ because she’s lost and lonely. because she looks in shadows.#➤ roger collins. ┊ I and my ghosts want a drink.#➤ re: david collins. ┊ he's just been afflicted with the family disease. he's been seeing ghosts.#➤ josette dupres. ┊ it was a scent，not just any，it was hers: jasmine，seabreeze mixed.#➤ re: laura murdoch collins. ┊ I want to watch a girl on fire with ruin on her lips. I want to see everything burn.#➤ elizabeth collins stoddard. ┊ I belong to the house. the house belongs to me.#➤ re: carolyn stoddard. ┊ never the same girl twice.#GOD OKAY. the fact that burke gives vicki the locket after laura's death is EVERYTHING to me.#burke — twin to jeremiah both physically and psychologically — giving it to vicki —#the stranger brought inside the collins family; much like josette.#(which. according to much much later dialogue laura *was* jeremiah's first wife before josette.#it's an old song. it's an old tale from way back when. and we're gonna sing it again and again and again.)#that vicki; by saving david's life; is preserving the collins line — providing the heir (literally; though not biologically)#david turns away from laura and chooses vicki; replacing laura as mother-figure permanently;#as he's granted new life after the fire; born again into vicki's arms; not laura's.#the new woman in the collins fold — after the previous wife has been defeated and fire has cleansed the memory (à la jane eyre; or rebecca)#positioning her naturally as roger's wife. the mother of his child. the inheritor of the collins bridal locket.#the locket that distinctly belongs to roger's wedding *night* — tied up fundamentally with sex & childbirth & the provision of heirs.#(fitting then that the madonna and child serves as the vicki-as-mother equivalent to the painting of laura: the virginal birth)#and yet! simultaneously! the cri du sang — david's blood calling out to burke's.#roger notably absent during the fire; unaware of david's danger; unable to help him. burke drawn to him when his life is at risk —#and the one who carries him home; over the threshold; at vicki's side. delivers her the locket from the ash.#of course she is drawn to him — david's symbolic mother; his biological father —#jeremiah & josette; the empire-builder and the lost and lonely bride.#and. the vampire-figure; the parasitic lover. meeting her at the cliffs; joking about her falling from them —#who can give josette belonging by bringing her to the family tomb.

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slytherinslut0 · 1 year ago

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jealousy. | slytherin boy headcanons

author’s note: im completely unhinged, as always. no surprise there. love me some angry snake men🥵 please enjoy.

-your boyfriend sees another guy flirting with you in the hall.

Draco Malfoy.

Sees you from down the hall as he’s walking with his friends.

“You know what, guys, I’ll catch up with you after.”

Would literally ditch his friends to make his way over, collecting himself as saunters up to you and mystery man.

Would instantly grab your ass, no hesitation, grip firm enough to bruise. When you gasp, caught off guard, he’d shift his arm up and around your shoulder, pulling you against him.

“What’re we talking about?” He’d sneer.

His voice would be laced with feign interest, smirking down at you with blaring eyes before shooting daggers at the boy.

He’d simply chuckle at you when you tell him nothing, just school stuff, leaning down to place a possessive kiss on your cheek as he grabbed your hand.

“Wonderful. let’s head to class, yeah?”

He’d pull you away from that dude, shooting him another look meant to kill, a silent warning not to fuck with him.

Finally gets you alone in an empty corridor or bathroom; would waste literally no time at all before pushing you against the wall and grabbing your neck/jaw.

“Who the fuck was that, hm?”, “he was practically eye-fucking you…give me five good reasons why i shouldn’t have him expelled or hexed into bloody Azkaban.”

He’d be furious, but he’d also know that you’d never choose some other guy over him, so he’d soften once he hears the innocence in your tone.

“You’re mine, princess,” he’d loosen his grip, kissing you softly. “Say it.”

Blaise Zabini.

Was listening to music while walking down the hall, instantly rips out his headphones the second he sees you laughing a little too hard with some dude he doesn’t know.

He doesn’t necessarily stop walking, but he’d definitely slow his pace, kind of just watching, not wanting to interfere but also not wanting to look creepy stalking you from a distance.

When the guy doesn’t leave, he’d tired of waiting, saying “fuck it”, before marching over naturally.

This man is so fucking cool calm and collected he’d just saunter right up and join in, making himself at home.

He’d practically take over the conversation because he’s literally just that chill in every situation, seamlessly fitting right in, so fucking charming and loved by everyone.

You’d kind of just end up staring at him, smiling in silent awe, knowing that this was his way of asserting his place, letting the guy know what the fuck was up.

After the dude leaves he’d just causally look at you, smirking that charming smirk, wetting his lips as he hooked an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, leaning down for a kiss.

“Ain’t no one getting you without getting me too, babygirl.” He’d murmur against your lips. “let that be known, right now, forever, always.”

Lorenzo Berkshire.

Would literally stop everything. The second he’d see you laughing and smiling he’d be completely unable to focus on anything else and would completely zone out of any conversations with his friends.

Would get like super anxious and flustered pretty much immediately.

Wouldn’t want to intrude so he’d just kind of hang back, wait for you against the wall and try not to stare too much.

His adorable little cheeks would flush, and he’d know he seemed utterly ridiculous so he’d try to busy himself with his shoelace or something while he waits.

You’d quickly cut off the conversation and move over to him, instantly being able to tell that he’s overthinking.

He’d smile at you, though you could still see the concern on his features.

“Who was that guy, darling?”

You’d tell him he was just a friend from class, no one special at all, pulling him in for a hug and giving him a quick smoochie on the cheek.

“Don’t worry enz, no one could ever take your place.”

He’d blush, trying to play it off. “Sorry love, I know you’re my girl.”

You’d take his hand, squeezing him hard, never wanting him to doubt that for a second. “Only yours baby, forever.”

Mattheo Riddle.

“Who the fuck-“

Would literally whip his bag at Theo, hastily shoving through the crowded hallway with blazing eyes, tunnel visioned as he tried to figure out where the fuck this dude found the audacity.

You wouldn’t even have to turn around to know he’s there, you’d be able to literally feel the anger radiating off of him.

You’d already know exactly where this was heading, but you’d also know there was no attempting to stop him because it’s pointless. Everyone in the school knows that.

Matty does what Matty wants, and right now, he wants to fuck up this guys face for even thinking about flirting with you.

You’d simply look up at him, noting his tensed jaw and his dark eyes as he glances between you and the dude, before fixing back on you, wetting his lips before he says,

“Is this fucker bothering you?”

Unable to help it, you’d smirk, shaking your head as you calmly attempted to talk him down.

“No Matty, he just asked if he could borrow my study notes-“

He’d heard more than enough.

“Study notes? Yeah, I don’t fucking think so,”

Without giving the guy a chance to react, he’d reach for his collar, shoving his back against the wall, teeth barred and face contorted in a snarl as he’d hiss:

“Bother my fucking girlfriend again and the only study notes you’ll need are the ones on how to drink out of a fucking straw, understand?”

Not interested in the response, he’d shove the guy away, eyes softening instantly as he moved back over to you, thrusting a hand through your hair as he kissed you like it’d been a hundred years, right in the middle of the hall for everyone to see.

And judging by the intensity in his grip, you’d already know, later that night, he’d be extra fucking sure to ask you who the fuck you belong to while he’s fucking you.

When he finally pulled back, he’d smirk at you. “Some bloody nerve on that guy, huh?”

You’d just shake your head and laugh, taking his hand as the two of you headed for class.

Theodore Nott.

He’d spot you from down the hall, his eyes instantly narrowing, gaze darting around as though he was missing something, as though this was some sort of sick joke.

Surely, this dude is mentally unwell, right? There’s no fucking way that he’s-

Doesn’t bother to think about it for even another fucking second, instantly shoving through the crowd to make his way over.

Proceeds to wrap his arm around your waist, other hand finding your jaw and pulling your lips to his before you could even process it.

Would proceed to full-on make out with you in front of the dude, and I mean tongue and all, his grip on your jaw so tight you’d know exactly what he was trying to do.

His hand around your waist might even slip lower, grazing over your ass, and then that’s when you’d attempt to gather yourself and push him back, completely embarrassed.

He’d just shrug, smirking down at you before he’d finally acknowledge the guys’ presence with literally nothing more than a glare meant to kill.

“Move along,” he’d say to the guy while pulling you away, grip tighter than ever. “This one’s fucking taken.”

As soon as he got you alone he’d be damn sure to remind you that you’re his, and only his, making you beg and whine his name before he fucked you like you deserved the pain.

Tom Riddle.

“AVADA KEDA-“

Lowkey kidding but not really.

No one would even dare because that man would make it clear as fucking day what would happen if they tried.

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nemesyaaa · 2 months ago

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rafe cameron x sleepy!reader

summary : you were just the sleepiest girl of the town. (kinda sweet smutty prompt / etablished relationship. soft! boyfriend!rafe.)

warnings : except smut, nothing much. bad sleeping shedule.

author's note : /.

“ I’m fucking tired.” you yawned as you entered the room. since the beginning of the evening, you had only been looking forward to getting back to the soft comfort of your bed.

you couldn't help but become sleepy, which meant letting your boyfriend take care of you because you were unable to stay awake. you never needed to be careful because rafe cameron always had his eyes on you. and as long as you were next to him, as long as he could feel you even if you were dead asleep and drooling over his chest, he allowed you to take a nap on his lap for hours. it was one of your few privileges.

something he didn't allow was people waking you up. if it he had to shut down every fucking noisy kook in a room to let you sleep, he would do it. it was his own version of let me burn the world for you but in a better way, more like let me quit this entire world for you.

you loved these moments of calm and peace when you slept wearing only one of his t-shirts acting like a dress around your naked body, and white high socks.

rafe was spooning you while you were already falling asleep, the reassuring and warm feeling of his cold fingers slipping under your t-shirt, his large hands covering the flesh of your waist , letting his strong arms gently slowly pulling you towards him. the shushing sound of his lips hovering your neck as you were dragged by his thick fingers. your barely covered body lazily comes closer, as soft breaths break the silence of your mouth, quickly followed by the sleepy whines of your tall boyfriend that holds his grip tighter in your hips, making sure you can't go anywhere, even if you were in a deep sleep.

you had a complicated relationship with your sleep schedule because you were sleeping both too much and not enough at the same. you could be fully awake at 5am but literally dead asleep at 12pm. for the simple reason that you were not sleeping at the right time, nor at the right hour, nor in the right place. you were one of those sleepiest girls who would disappear for hours not because you were going out on the town with friends or even stepping foot outside, but because you would sleep for hours on end.

you told rafe that you were just closing your eyes to take a nap but you ended up waking up in the evening.

when you woke up, you were completely lost and disorganized but above all so tired. it was almost ridiculous. your boyfriend was now used to your eyes half-closed, your hair completely messed up and across your exhausted face, drool on the corner of your lip with that oh-so-stupid expression.

he lay down on the bed, while you looked at him with wide opened eyes. at this point, you weren't even sure you recognized your own boyfriend. “ rafe ? ”

“still asleep, babe? "

his voice was usually low, while he brushed away the trail of drool that was leaking from your mouth with his thumb. you nodded, and he smiled. “ such a baby. ”

you were a terrible temptation. he could have fucked you while you were sleeping. and maybe that was even what you wanted sometimes when you slept so scantily dressed, leaving your tiny thong in full view while you lay on your back, legs unconsciously spread.

“let me help you…” he whispered as he flipped you onto the bed, pushing your thighs apart to make himself a place. he had pulled down his boxers without removing them completely, before forcing your legs open with one hand. "fucking wet. i bet you dreamed about that dick inside you."

the smirk on his face was pretty charming and sick, and he pushed the fat tip of his cock against your soaked slit, before making morning slaps on your little glistening cunt. his length was so hard, hitting your sensitive bud. the plushy mushroom getting glossy from your weeping hole. he looked at you, holding his dick in a hand with your wetness dripping from the shaft, as you had a hard times focusing on his movements but he squeezed your cheeks on his hands, pulling your face closer to him. “ get that mouth open, want to be able to spit on it whenever i want. ”

it was also a pretty excuse for him to force you to keep your eyes open. when he first pushed in with a hard thrust that literally arched all your body, you screamed out of pleasure and pain. he didn't wait before starting working his dick faster in your swollen cunt. you always take him so good, and he can't help but pound you even deeper every time he hears your sleepily voice moaning softly, the whining getting louder and bigger as he stretches you open. you were too good, a forbidden pleasure for sure, your sloppy pussy fully soaked him.

little by little, you begin to be fully awake, eyes filled with shining tears. you were a mess that was crying and panting from the roughness of your boyfriend, crybaby whines begging for rafe’s attention. your mouth getting muffled by his, he shushed you through the kiss, heavy breath and drool falling between your lips. “ s-s-slow down ! ” you cried out.

he mocked you gently, answering with a wicked smile. “ what about faster ? thought that's what you wanted ? ”he was still fucking you, but now a hand reached your throat, as the thickness of his length stuffed the inside of your walls, hitting all the spots. “ r-rafe. ” you exploded.

you were shaking, gasping for air and throbbing, eyes still locked in rafe's gaze while you lost your mind, thinking of how deep he was inside you. your cunt still twitching around his cock, making you unable to catch your breath and literally choking against the hand pressed on your throat. you were already tired, the inner of your thighs dripping with arousal and legs breaking with each thrusts. and those massive orgasms didn't help. his face was now sweaty from the heat and the sex, hot breaths escaping his lips and absolutely no sign of exhaustion. he could fuck you to death. and you wish you could reach this level but you were already too drained by the fast back and forth. “ this is how i should wake up my sleepy girl every morning. don't you think ? ”

he finally managed to cum, spilling thicks of loads inside you. your head failing in the bed as he slowly pulled his dick out, before pushing it into your mouth. the sight of your tongue licking every single drop of juice left him even horny, your pretty lips weeped with cum and wetness, that he smeared with the tip of his cock, before letting you clean everything.

“ it was not a fuck, it was an attempted murder. ” you told him.

“ don't inspire me for round 2, you will regret it. ”

“ don't complain me about why i sleep this much when you fucking me like that. ”

“ i'm fucking tired…” you said, a little yawn leaving your mouth as rafe and you entering the room after a living pool party, were you literally rested on your boyfriend’s lap during all the event, falling asleep on his shoulder as he was still talking with his friends.

he was now used to since he dated you from a long moment. he was now able to take care of you every time you fell asleep. as always, there was no warning. you could be smiling, living the party, it doesn't mean you were not sleepy. He sometimes complained about how much you slept, but at the same time, how much you didn't get enough sleep.

“ no shit. you were literally drooling over me. ” he said sarcastically. “ lift your arms. ” he commanded, before helping you remove your dress.

he almost passed out when your breasts literally bounced out of your bra as your arms leaned down, his dick slightly growing and forming a bulge inside his pants. but damn, it was not the moments because he knows for sure that you will now fall asleep. AGAIN.

“ do you think topper is mad at me for sleeping at his birthday’s party ? ”

“ do i look like the type of boyfriend that i care about what another man is feeling about my girlfriend ? because, i'm not. ”

“ it was rude…. it's his birthday ! ”

“ babe, i could even fuck you right in front of him that he wouldn't even care or remarks. don't you see how he was just drooling like a dog because of my sister ? ”

“ maybe, i should call…”

rafe had raised an eyebrow, his jaw twitching slightly as you pulled on one of his t-shirts. “ since when do you have topper’s number ? ”

“I mean with your phone. Why would I have his number. Anyways, i'm sorry for this…it's pretty embarrassing. ”

“ What about looking me in the eyes if you at least want me to believe you about your apologies?”

“ Don't fight me right now, i'm tired.”

“ And actually, when you're not ? ” he mocked, and you finally looked at him.

“ When i'm sleeping, it's obvious. ”

“ You forget when i fuck you’. It doesn't seems like you're very tired. ”

after showering and brushing your teeths, you moved to your favorite place in the world — your bed. you loved the clean of the sheets. you covered yourself with the blanket, dropping only your head out.

when rafe appareaded, you couldn't help but stare at his perfect body. you followed his moves, lurking to the good and big shape of his biceps, the well-sculpted ridges of his abs, the visible v-line curved on his hips. “ don't look at me like that. ” he warned.

“ then i will look at someone else. ”

“ funny. ” he said, chuckling without smiling. “ that you think i will let you do such a thing. but keep daydreaming. ”

“ no need to be jealous. there is no kooks better than you. ”

“ does it mean there are pogues better than me ? ”

you sighed, shaking your head and crossing your arms.

“ i don't even hang out with pogues ! don't take it in the wrong way. what about watching a good movie before sleeping ? ”

“ be serious. i know you well, you're gonna fall asleep before the movie even starts. ”

“ no ! i'm fully awake. ”

“ which movies do you want to watch ? and there is no way i'm gonna watch that fucking film with a black cat and a ladybug. ”

“ then what about five nights at Freddy's ? ”

“ sounds better. ” he simply said, while typing on the dashboard.

your gaze leaned down on his ringed fingers, fast and thick. your slowly opened your lips, imagining how much they can stretch your mouth, leaving her with a pool of drool from how wet they're from your saliva. but also, how much they will manage to keep your mouth open without effort.

a sparkle shone in your eyes, and you wrapped your arm around rafe's one, making him look without really giving you full attention. “ what you want ? ”

“ nothing. did you find the movie ? ”

“ you like horror movies ? ”

“ no, i like josh. ”

“ bet he died at the end of the movie. ”

“ rafe ! ”

“ yea, keep crying. ”

he started the movie but you were very sleepy. again. you forced yourself to keep your eyes open but it was really hard. you blinked so many times to fight the urge of sleeping, but you're finally falling asleep.

rafe didn't stopped the movie because he was now too invested in it, but let your head rest against his naked chest, stroking your hair gently.

at the beginning of your relationship, it was so new for him to be this close to a person, to reach this type of intimacy but now he was craving for it, finding peace and comfort.

you were his sleepy girlfriend that was now sleeping over him, but will probably wake up in five hours when he will be dead asleep while, you will be looking for a nocturnal activity, trying to not wake him up.

sometimes, and a lot of times, you have sleepless nights that make you even more tired, and fall asleep early or late in the morning. you could feel though the sleep, rafe's arm loosening around your body as he manages to leave the bed to start the day while you just catching your night.

“ good morning, rafe. ”

“ it's 7pm. ”

“ ... ”

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