#not my favorite thing I’ve made but at least it’s done

[genethestormtrooper]

More neopets nonsense

[wander-wren]

presumed death literally the trope of all time. you’re telling me i can have the grief and horror of character death AND have the happy ending too??

not to mention the possibilities after “dead” character turns up again.

maybe they have no idea their loved one thinks they died, and they show up all nonchalant only to realize things have gone horribly wrong. maybe their loved one thinks they’re a ghost/hallucination/trick and won’t accept them.

maybe they do know their loved one thinks they’re dead and they’re choosing to keep up the facade for their safety. watching from afar, unable to comfort them.

maybe they faked their death and believe their loved one is in on the scheme when actually that message was never received.

maybe, in the process of whatever almost killed them, they forgot about their loved one/old life/etc, and aren’t aware they have anything to return to.

maybe they “died” thinking no one would notice their absence, leaving their loved one full of regret for things unsaid. perhaps their loved one heals and moves on, only for “dead” character to return.

and just, augh, the aftermath. waking up to find “dead” character gone and assuming it was all a dream/they really did die. the codependency. the anger, even, that they didn’t come back/let themself get hurt/lied. maybe guilt if their body was abandoned by their comrades, only to learn that they were alive all along.

name me a trope that does more i’ll WAIT.

[monstersholygrail]

In a Free Use City, your knowledge on the subject of your job isn’t always what’s most important. And in your case, it’s the least important. You were actually known as quite a ditz in the Free Use City Offices.

You worked in the tech department surrounded by a bunch of hot and nerdy guys who spoke in yours you couldn’t even begin to understand. You were just happy to be there and they were happy to ogle you and press against you whenever you asked for their help with any simple task.

They thought they had the upper hand on you, thinking they were so clever. But you had them all on a leash. An entire department at your disposal to give you pleasure whenever you wanted.

Your favorite man to bother was IT Robot. He got his work done fast and spent the rest of the day goofing off. The easy air around him made him approachable and the way all his shirts fit snugly against his bulging pecs made you drip with need.

You can’t help but spare him another glance before hesitantly returning your gaze to your own computer, the screen filled with the program you still haven’t figured out. Great, now you were confused and horny.

“Need me for something?” IT Robot’s voice suddenly purrs into your ears. His steel-like grip grabbing onto your plush hips and pulling you back into his hard chest.

His body molds to yours so perfectly it has you tingling all over. Arousal gushing and soaking through your panties. He turns you on so bad even when he barely did anything but it was like your body was out of control. As if it could be programmed just for him when he was the robot.

“Help… I hurt,” you say with a pout, your mind turning to complete mush whenever you’re around him.

IT Robot flashes you with that charming lopsided smile of his, heavily amused by the puddle you melt into whenever he talks to you.

“Where does it hurt, huh? It hurt here?”

He caresses your soft belly with an appreciation that borders on worship before one hand slips beneath your skirt, nuzzling his fingers between your soaked folds.

“Or here?” He asks while the other gives a little pat on your head.

A low whine escapes your lips as he rolls his fingers over your clit, your hips jerking into the touch. And that’s all it takes to have IT Robot plunging three of his fingers deep into your cunt, making you gasp and tremble in his arms.

“That’s what I thought… Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ll fix the issue right away. It’s what I do after all.”

Your vision blurs as you dive into the pleasure head first. Choking out harsh moans as IT Robot’s fingers move inside you with precision like he has an entire map of your pretty pussy printed in his head. His fingers move in a blur as they pump themselves inside you, hitting all the right places that have you seeing stars. Each curl of his fingers sends your pussy fluttering and clenching down around him.

“Squeeze me tight, honey, ngh c’mon! Don’t think about a thing, just focus on being my pretty baby. My good girl.”

His words send the last thoughts in your head flying out the window, reducing you to nothing but his perfect little fuck toy. Your body relaxes without having to worry about a thing, allowing the ecstasy to overwhelm you.

IT Robot chuckles again as that fucked out expression fills your features. He flattens his palm so that it rubs hard against your clit with every snap of his fingers. With a few quick movements it has you falling over the edge and exploding all over his hand. Your vision flashes white as your orgasm rolls through you and you can’t find the strength to move any of your limbs after.

But that’s alright, IT Robot will take care of you, his fingers slipping out of your pulsing cunt with a pop, and giving your temple a soft kiss. He doesn’t bother cleaning up his hand dripping with your cum as he starts typing on your computer, solving the issue with the program you were using, and successfully helping you with both your aches.

“There, there. I’ve got you, pretty. Just keep feelin’ good. All because of me,” he whispers in your ear. Planning to spend the rest of the day doing all your work for you.

[violetszn]

loser!ellie x f!reader

summary ✩ after casually mentioning your kissing inexperience to your best friend, she offers to teach you. after all, what are friends for?

warnings ✩ 1.94k ✩ swearing, a ton of awkward nervous rambling, making out, ellie does the knee thing, sorta-nsfw but not really ?? it’s definitely implied and kinda leads up to it though, ellie mentions guys being into the reader but it’s never specified whether or not reader is attracted to men, ellie’s awkward and loser-ish but that’s my favorite !! not edited. intentional lowercase.

you’d mentioned it in passing - didn’t think she’d even give it a second thought, really. after all, her attention was heavily focused on the movie displayed on the tv in front of you. she’d seen it a million times but she could never really get bored over seeing dinosaurs running rampant. and of course, you’d watch it with her a million times over if it meant seeing that grin of excitement on her face whenever she’d spot her favorite dino.

“damn, imagine kissing someone at a park surrounded by actual fucking dinosaurs,” she’d said, her eyes big and excited.

“imagine kissing someone,” you’d laughed quietly, not thinking too much about it.

“imagine? you don’t know what it’s like?”

“i mean, not really, no. i’ve never kissed anyone so…” you trail off, not missing the way her eyes widen in pure shock.

“fuck, you’ve never had your first kiss?” she asks, sitting up straight and turning to you. her legs press up against her chest as directs her full attention from the movie to you.

“no? i don’t see why it’s such a big deal, i thought you knew.” you shrug, following her movement and facing her, crossing your legs beneath you.

“wha- no! i didn’t fucking know!” she says in an exasperated tone. “how? how?”

“chill, el, it’s not that big of a deal. is it really that shocking?”

“um, yeah? you’re… you. how the fuck have you not had your first kiss?” she gasps. “like… how?”

“what’s that supposed to mean,” you softly scoff, bringing your knees up to your chest. “yeah, no one’s ever kissed me, whoop-de-fuckin-doo.”

“okay, chill, i’m not fucking with you, i’m just… really confused,” she huffs. “you’re like the prettiest girl in this damn town. how has no one made a move on you? what about jesse? remember that one summer when he was like really into you?”

“what- jesse? you thought i’d kiss jesse? i’m… not into jesse,” you frown, your brows furrowed in confusion. “did it seem like i was into jesse?”

“well, no, but to be fair, you never really seem to be into anyone. which is totally cool. it’s fine,” she nods, fiddling with her fingers.

“it’s not that i’m not into anyone. i just… guess i’m too nervous? i don’t know, i’ve never done dating or kissing or any of that shit. so, i guess i’ve just been too nervous to screw it up with… someone… y’know?” you explain, looking down at your knees awkwardly.

“right… right. well, what if…” she trails off, her cheeks suddenly seeming a bit red. she tugs at her hoodie collar, clearing her throat. “fuck, is it hot in here? are you hot? i’m suddenly so hot.”

she laughs, awkwardly, looking away from your eyes. she nervously picks at her hoodie sleeve, subtly drying off her suddenly clammy palms.

“um, not really? ‘s still pretty cold out,” you comment, eyeing her odd behavior - odd with you at least. ellie’s never really not been an oddball. “you okay?”

“yeah! i’m cool. just super hot. shit, maybe i should just take this off,” she mumbles, clumsily tugging off her grey hoodie. she’s left in her white tank top.

“okay…? so what were you gonna say a second ago?” you ask, raising a brow as she brushes a strand of hair from her face.

“i was just gonna offer to… teachyouhowtokiss.”

you squint your eyes at her in confusion. her words had come out so quickly and jumbled up it was impossible to tell what she had meant.

“offer to what? maybe slower this time?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

“to… teach you… how to kiss…?” she mumbles slowly. her cheeks flush impossibly redder and her eyes look everywhere but at you.

“you wanna kiss?”

ellie immediately panics. "i mean, not in a weird way! just, like, as a friend thing?" She rubs the back of her neck, her fingers tapping on her knee as fidgets nervously. "i just thought, y'know, if you're nervous about it, maybe it'd be less weird with someone you trust. maybe— i don’t know…"

you blink at her, trying to process what she's saying. "so... you wanna be my practice dummy?"

ellie lets out a strangled laugh, her face scrunching up. "okay, well, when you say it like that, it sounds fucking awful."

you stifle a laugh, biting your lip. "sorry, just trying to understand. you wanna kiss me, but, like, in a friend kinda way?"

ellie groans, dragging a hand down her face. "look, if it's weird, forget I said anything. just thought it might help—"

"i didn't say no."

that shuts her up real quick. her hand freezes mid-motion, and she slowly looks up at you, brows raised. "wait. so... you want to?"

“maybe? won’t it… i don’t know, make things weird?” you ask, fidgeting with a stray thread sticking from the couch.

“no. i mean— look we only have to do it if you want to. not like, want want— i mean, not that i don’t want— wait, no, it’s just—” she groans, squeezing her eyes shut for a second as she fights through her rambles. “i’m fucking this up.”

your heart thumps a little too hard in your chest at the thought. it’s not like you haven’t thought about it before, ellie, and kissing her. in fact, you think about it way more often than you’d ever admit aloud. but hearing her offer it so suddenly, so seriously, is different.

“you’re not. fucking it up, i mean. i want… to. to kiss you. um- to practice! i mean. obviously,” you nervously cough, suddenly unable to look her in the eyes.

“oh! right! um… you’re sure though?”

you shrug, suddenly feeling shy under her gaze. "i mean... yeah? you're my best friend, and i do trust you, and if I'm gonna have my first kiss with anyone... i want it to be you."

ellie blinks. once. twice. you’re convinced she’s not even breathing. "oh. uh. cool. cool cool cool."

cool is not something either of you are at the moment.

"are you nervous?" you ask, even though you know the answer.

"what? no. i— why would i be nervous? i’ve kissed, like… so many people."

"yeah?"

"yeah. i mean… not that many, but enough! enough to be qualified for this… whatever this is."

you roll your eyes but smile, suddenly feeling at ease once again, remembering that after all — it’s just ellie. a safe space against the world. "okay then, expert, what now?"

ellie exhales sharply, rubbing her palms against her jeans. “okay, so… maybe we, like, count down? or something?”

you snort. “what, like a rocket launch?”

“shut up, i’m trying to make this less weird.”

you both fail miserably at that, sitting there staring at each other like two idiots who have never interacted with another human being before. ellie fidgets with the hem of her tank top, her knee bouncing like she’s about to bolt.

“i mean, we could just—” you start, but she cuts you off with a frustrated groan.

“jesus christ, this is fucking ridiculous.”

and then she just… does it.

there’s no countdown, no warning. just ellie closing the gap between you, her hand cupping your cheek as she presses her lips to yours. it’s warm, a little rushed, maybe a little clumsy, but her touch is steady, grounding. your breath catches, and before you can even process it, she’s already pulling back. and you really don’t want her to pull back.

the room feels impossibly quiet. ellie’s eyes are wide, like she can’t believe she actually went through with it.

“uh.” she clears her throat, scratching at her jaw. “so. that was… um.”

you blink at her, still trying to reboot your brain. “yeah. that was… that… happened.”

she nods rapidly. “yup.”

silence.

“so… do we, like, debrief or…?”

“i don’t fucking know,” she blurts, cheeks burning red. “did… fuck— was it okay?”

you let out a breathy laugh, still a little dazed. “yeah. yeah, it was… okay.”

ellie huffs, looking vaguely relieved, though her fingers are still anxiously picking at a loose thread on her jeans.

“cool...”

you should probably leave it at that. you should probably move on, turn back to the movie, pretend like that didn’t just flip your entire world upside down.

but instead, you find yourself saying, “wanna, um… try again…?”

ellie’s gaze snaps to yours, lips parting slightly.

“…for practice?” she asks, voice quieter this time.

your heart pounds. “yeah. sure. for practice. if that’s what’ll get you to kiss me again.”

“fuck,” she breathes out, pushing forward and pressing her lips to yours once again. she lowers you into your back, slowly bringing herself to straddle your waist.

the kiss deepens, slower this time, with more intention behind it. ellie’s hand slides to the side of your neck, her thumb brushing lightly over your skin as she shifts her weight, settling more comfortably on top of you. you can feel her pulse beneath your fingertips, and you realize that it’s not just the kiss that’s making your heart race. it’s the way she’s looking at you now, her eyes dark with something you can’t quite name. the way she’s grasping at your waist, tugging at your shirt, pushing her knee up higher and higher until — oh.

you gasp softly, a shiver running through you as the sudden pressure makes your breath hitch. an involuntary whimper falls past your lips and ellie lets out a low noise, biting at your lower lip. you tilt your head slightly, trying to keep up with the steady rhythm of her lips against yours, but it’s almost too much. you’ve never been kissed like this before. you’ve never had someone want to kiss you like this before.

ellie pulls back for a moment, her breath ragged, and she’s staring at you, cheeks flushed, her pupils blown wide. “you okay?” she asks softly, her voice sounding rougher than usual.

your chest rises and falls as you try to catch your breath, eyes locked on hers. the air between you feels thick, charged with something you can’t quite place. “yeah. i think so,” you manage, voice shaky. you reach up, your fingers gently scraping down her clothed back.

“good,” she whispers, her gaze flicking down to your lips again. she hesitates for a second, just enough time for the tension to build, and then her lips are on yours once more, but this time, it’s different. there’s a quiet urgency in her movements, a desperation that matches the pounding of your heart in your chest.

you gasp into her kiss when she presses her body closer, the weight of her above you grounding you, making everything feel real. her hand slides lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your jeans, and you gasp, breaking the kiss just for a second.

“ellie…” you breathe her name, holding onto her arm for a moment.

her touch falters and she pulls back just enough to look at you. “want to stop?” she asks, her voice softer now.

you swallow, shaking your head slowly, your fingers tangling in her hair as you tug her back down to you. “no. i wanna keep going.”

the kiss picks up again, faster this time, more desperate, as though the two of you can’t get enough of each other. every breath feels like it’s shared between you both, every touch setting off a new wave of heat. you’re not sure how long you spend tangled up on that couch or when your clothes wound up littered on her floor but if there’s one thing you are sure of, it’s the fact that this definitely was not just practice.

[kaiyunsim]

snowed in —

pairing : bf!jake x gn!reader (no pronouns used)

summary : mini-party at jake's place turns into a sleepover due to some weather troubles.

warnings : fluff, maybe some crack, established relationship, features jungwon, riki, jay

a/n : merry christmas to anyone who celebrates ! little gift to my og bias <3

queueing : doughnut - twice, the christmas waltz - laufey, r.e.m - kiss of life

— not proof read — wc : 1.4k —

the snow has been falling for hours now, a steady, quiet blanket of white wrapping the world outside. jake’s house is always cozy, but tonight, with the storm in full swing, it feels like a true sanctuary.

you’re curled up on the couch with jake, his arm draped lazily over your shoulders. your head rests against his chest, and the familiar thrum of his heartbeat is your favorite kind of background noise.

“okay, but hear me out,” riki says from the floor, his legs stretched out as he balances a mug of hot chocolate on his knee. “if we really are snowed in, we should do, like, survival drills or something. build a fort. prepare for the worst.”

jungwon rolls his eyes. “you mean prepare for bedtime? it’s not like we’re stranded in the wilderness.”

“i’m just saying—”

“you’re just being dramatic,” jay interrupts, shooting riki a look before turning back to the christmas movie playing on the tv.

jake chuckles softly beside you. “we’re literally trapped in here because of a snowstorm, and he’s still trying to find a way to make it chaotic.”

“it’s his thing,” you reply, glancing up at him with a smile. his hand brushes along your arm absentmindedly, warm and soothing.

the night starts out simple enough—a little christmas gathering with your closest friends. there are snacks, cheesy holiday music, and plenty of laughter. but when the snowstorm hits harder than expected, it becomes clear that no one is going home tonight.

“you doing okay?” jake asks quietly, his voice low so the others don’t overhear.

you nod, your fingers toying with the edge of his sweater. “more than okay. this is nice.”

his lips curve into a smile, his gaze soft as he looks at you. “yeah, it is.”

hours later, after the group finally decides to call it a night, you and jake find yourselves alone in the living room. jungwon, riki, and jay claim the guest rooms, and the house grows quiet except for the faint crackling of the fireplace.

jake stretches, his sweater riding up slightly to reveal a sliver of skin, and you try not to get distracted. “so,” he says, turning to you with that boyish grin you love so much, “we’re officially snowed in together. how does it feel?”

you laugh, leaning back against the couch, no longer holding back from the distraction as you place a hand on his waist, “honestly? it feels kind of perfect.”

“perfect, huh?” he teases, flopping down beside you. “what makes it perfect? me?”

“obviously.” you roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you.

“i knew it,” he says, leaning closer. his arm finds its way back around your shoulders, and he pulls you in. “you can’t resist my charm.”

“i literally see you trip over your own feet at least twice a week. what charm?”

he gasps, pretending to be offended. “wow, the betrayal. after everything i’ve done for you.”

“what have you done for me?”

“um, i made you hot chocolate earlier. that’s, like, boyfriend of the year behavior.”

you shake your head, laughing softly. “you’re ridiculous.”

“but you love me anyway,” he says, his voice dropping slightly. his teasing expression softens as he looks at you, and you feel your heart do that familiar flutter it always does around him.

“yeah,” you say quietly, “i do.”

his smile is small but genuine, and he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

later, jake suggests going outside. “just for a little bit,” he says, tugging on his coat. “the snow looks too good to waste.”

you hesitate, glancing at the frost-covered windows. “it’s freezing out there.”

“i’ll keep you warm,” he promises, holding out his hand.

you roll your eyes but let him help you into your coat. moments later, you’re stepping out into the snow, the cold biting at your cheeks.

“see?” jake says, turning to you with a grin. “totally worth it.”

the yard is quiet and untouched, the snow shimmering under the soft glow of the fairy lights strung along the fence. jake crouches down to scoop up a handful of snow, packing it into a loose ball.

“don’t you dare,” you warn, backing away.

he laughs, tossing the snowball aside. “relax. i wouldn’t risk my life like that.”

“good choice,” you say, crossing your arms to fight the chill.

jake steps closer, his breath visible in the cold air. “you’re cold,” he says matter-of-factly, reaching out to tuck your scarf tighter around your neck.

“you think?”

he ignores your sarcasm, his hands lingering on your shoulders. “come here,” he murmurs, pulling you into his arms.

you don’t protest, letting him wrap you up in his warmth. his chin rests on the top of your head, and for a moment, the world feels impossibly still.

“you know,” he says after a while, his voice soft, “i don’t think i’ve ever loved winter as much as i do right now.”

you tilt your head to look up at him. “is that so?”

“yeah.” he smiles, brushing a snowflake from your hair. “it’s definitely my favorite season now.”

“because of the snow?”

“because of you.”

his words hang in the air, simple but heartfelt. your cheeks warm despite the cold, and you lean up to kiss him. his lips are warm against yours, the kiss soft and unhurried.

when you pull back, jake is smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “yeah,” he says quietly, “definitely my favorite season.”

—

you wake the next morning feeling groggy and unusually warm. your throat is scratchy, and your head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton. groaning softly, you roll over on the couch, only to find jake sitting beside you, his expression already filled with concern.

“morning,” he says, reaching out to brush your hair back. “how’re you feeling?”

“not great,” you admit, your voice hoarse.

before jake can respond, jungwon wanders into the room, still half-asleep. “why does it sound like someone’s dying in here?”

“y/n’s sick,” jake explains, handing you a glass of water he must have prepared earlier.

“what? how?” riki appears next, rubbing his eyes. “we were all fine yesterday.”

“maybe it was the snowball fight,” jay suggests as he joins the group. “too much exposure to the cold.”

you shake your head, though even that small movement makes you wince. “i was fine last night…”

but jake doesn’t say anything. he just gives you a look—one that’s equal parts fond and apologetic, giving a small chuckle after.

“wait,” jungwon says, narrowing his eyes. “what aren’t you telling us?”

jay crosses his arms, clearly intrigued. “yeah, spill.”

jake sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “we… uh… went outside again. after everyone else went to bed.”

“you what?” jungwon looks horrified.

“it was his idea,” you croak, pointing a weak finger at jake.

“hey!” he protests, though his grin gives him away. “you didn’t have to come with me.”

riki shakes his head, looking more amused than anything. “you’re both ridiculous.”

“yeah, but it was worth it,” jake says, his gaze soft as he looks at you.

you roll your eyes but can’t help smiling. even with a sore throat and a pounding headache, you can’t stay mad at him.

“just so we’re clear,” jay says, “you’re both banned from making decisions for the rest of the day.”

jake laughs, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “deal.”

“but seriously,” jungwon says, his tone more serious now, “you need to rest.”

“yes, mom,” you mumble, rolling your eyes, earning a chuckle from everyone.

as the group disperses, jake stays by your side, fussing over you like a mother hen. and despite how awful you feel, there’s something comforting about his presence—about the way he tucks the blanket tighter around you and makes sure you always have tea or water within reach. full of golden retriever energy.

“you know,” he says later, once the others are busy with their own things, “i feel kinda bad.”

“you should,” you tease weakly, leaning against him.

he presses a kiss to your forehead, his voice soft. “but i’d do it all over again if it meant getting to spend more time with you.”

you sigh, smiling despite yourself. “you’re lucky i love you. and merry christmas, jake.”

“i know,” he says, his grin unmistakable. “merry christmas, baby.”

[tumb1rprincess]

I know I’ve posted before about Curly and Anya’s relationship being my favorite in Mouthwashing, but I think I’m really starting to fall down the shipping rabbit hole with these two. I know some people don’t like shipping in Mouthwashing, or even this ship specifically, and I get that. But the dynamic between these two has been rotating in my head for a while now and I wanted to blab about it.

The tragedy of shipping these two is what really grabs me. Like, in an alternate universe where Jimmy wasn’t on the ship or where Curly made better choices, these two could have had something going. Maybe they had feelings for each other that were starting to show, but they hadn’t made a move yet. Or maybe they were waiting for the voyage to be done before they did anything. But unfortunately, they’ll never get to act on those feelings thanks to Jimmy hurting Anya and then Curly failing her. Any possibility of romance was taken away from them.

It makes any events post-crash more tragic viewing them through a romantic lens, for me at least. Curly has to live with the guilt of failing to help someone he cared about, and now he can’t protect her from Jimmy. Anya probably can’t help but think “I told you so” when it comes to Curly, but she doesn’t want him to die and doesn’t want to believe that he’s a monster for crashing the ship. She hates that she has to hurt him to get him to swallow the pain pills. And even at the end of it all, when she decided she was going to kill herself, she chose to die by Curly’s side. I know that she probably would have chosen the medical room anyway since it was the only place besides the cockpit that had a lock, but she probably wanted to offer Curly the same way out she was going. And when she decided to overdose, she didn’t want to die alone.

On the brighter side, I do love AU’s that have Anya survive and she and Curly both have to recover from the events of the game. They not only have the struggle of dealing with their trauma, but their relationship is broken by what happened. Curly knows there’s no way to make up for what he did and Anya would probably have trouble trusting him again. But they might rekindle what they had as they heal, as they both deal with everything Jimmy did to them. The two of them are the only ones who understand the horrible things they had to go through and that makes them the only ones that can comfort each other when that trauma rears it’s ugly head.

[forzalando]

read to me

short and sweet lando + reading blurb for @coff33andb00ks 😊 i really, really hope you like it, viv! you know my thoughts on it already lol and i'm so sorry it's so short😭 please forgive me!!! summary: you finally have a day together after weeks away from home - lando suggests a day out, but all you want to do is read your new book. pairing: lando x fem!reader word count: 876 words tw: mild cursing

You loved traveling the world with Lando – discovering new favorites in every city, making memories across the globe. But sometimes, you wished that life could move a little slower.

Days like today are ones you cherished with all your heart. Both of you at home in your shared apartment, no plans or work or distractions. You woke up that morning before Lando, quietly slipping out of bed and tip-toeing to the kitchen to make a cup of whatever random tea bag you could find in the cupboard after a triple-header and no groceries.

The clock read 8:11am and you were positive that Lando wouldn’t be up for at least another hour given how exhausting the last few weeks have been. Rather than climb back in bed and potentially disturb him, you flopped onto the couch and weighed your options for entertainment.

Out of the corner of your eye you spotted a book that a friend had recommended to you that you’d ordered and forgotten to pack before leaving for Spain. You settled deeper into the couch, threw a blanket across your lap, and opened the book to the first page, immediately hooked by just the first line.

Enraptured with the words before you, you didn’t realize the time or hear Lando repeatedly calling your name from the bedroom. He trudged out into your living room to investigate and saw you snuggled into the couch, oblivious to all of your surroundings.

“Babe?” He spoke quietly, from directly behind you.

You screamed in shock – the book flying from your hands and landing on the floor with a loud thud.

“Why did you sneak up on me like that?!” You yelled, launching yourself up to grab your book from the floor before any of the pages got crinkled.

“I’ve been calling your name for the past five minutes! How long have you been awake?”

“What time is it?”

“Around 11am– I can’t believe I slept that long.”

Your eyes drifted to your mug, tea long forgotten and no longer steaming.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled. “I’ve been reading for almost 3 hours, I didn’t even realize.” You placed the book on the coffee table next to your mug, attempting to stall your thoughts about the last full chapter you read and turn your attention to Lando as he hopped down on the couch next to you.

“We finally have a whole day to ourselves – what are you in the mood for?” Lando questioned, moving to throw the blanket over himself and lay in between your legs with his head in your lap – his self-proclaimed favorite spot. “We could grab lunch at our favorite place, maybe ice cream after a walk on the beach, go rope some friends into a game of padel, anything you want, love.”

You mulled the options given over in your head while Lando looked up at you expectantly. You tried to think of other options to suggest to convince him you wanted to go out, but in all honesty, nothing sounded more appealing than staying inside, snuggling with your boyfriend, and finishing that damned book.

Your fingers carded through his curls, pretending to think long and hard about what activity you’d tackle together. Lando, always attuned to your emotions, noticed your hesitation and the quick glance you gave the coffee table.

“What if we stayed home, actually?” He offered, watching your eyes light up and a small smile grace your cheeks.

“Are you sure? We’ve barely done anything the past three weeks, if you want to go out, I’ll get ready!”

The feeling of your hands massaging his hair, your midsection providing the perfect pillow, and the giddy look on your face at the thought of more reading made answering you the easiest thing in the world.

“I’m so sure. All that matters to me is that I’m spending the day with you, and besides, I could do with a few hours of relaxation.”

You leaned down and kissed him softly in thanks – a contended sigh escaping his mouth when you then turned to kiss his cheek before returning to sitting upright.

“Will you read to me?” Lando murmured. “You know how much I love the sound of your voice.”

You smiled and bent over gently to grab your book, turning back to page one because how could you subject Lando to starting in the middle?

Within ten minutes, soft snores echoed throughout the room and Lando had wound his arms around your waist, nuzzling his cheek against your stomach. You smiled down at your overgrown cat of a boyfriend, gently tossing your book back over to the table so you’d have free hands.

One in his soft curls and the other resting between his shoulder blades. Nothing meant more to you than these moments – being close to him, complete relaxation, seeking comfort in one another.

You were content to sit and stare down at him for as long as he remained asleep. The straight slope of his nose, long lashes brushing against his cheekbones, how his lips parted slightly. Despite all the places you’d been, monuments and cities you’d seen, there wasn’t a sight more lovely than Lando Norris.

Reading would simply have to wait when your eyes could instead gaze upon someone so beautiful.  

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[hederasgarden]

Do you have any darker thoughts about your fav ATJ characters?

Bestie, I have so many thoughts, and I’m totally blaming @otaku-girl-ao3 for this. A few weeks ago, we spent an afternoon on Discord brainstorming what the ATJ characters would be like as dark versions of themselves and how that would manifest in distinct and interesting ways.

Just a quick note—this is quite a departure from the usual content on my blog and the type of things I typically write about. Recently, I’ve been gathering the courage to explore some darker themes in my writing (I blame BookTok for introducing me to a lot of questionable tropes). Please be kind and let me know if you’d like to see more of this kind of writing from me!

Characters: Sergei Kravinoff (Kraven the Hunter), Friedrich Harding (Nosferatu), Tangerine (Bullet Train), and Ives (Tenet) Rating: Explicit, 18+ only. Dead dove, do not eat. VERY dark, depraved, and horny thoughts direct from me to you. Not all themes are tagged. Read at your own risk.  Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Aaron Taylor Johnson Character Masterlist

Sergei is a meticulous planner, taking his time to observe you and learn your habits. He likely comes across you by chance—perhaps while on the job or visiting his brother. It’s your scent that first grabs his attention, but it’s not what draws him back. It’s the softness and sweetness in your demeanor, the vulnerability you exude, completely unaware of the dangers around you. You’re the easiest prey he’s ever tracked, unaware even of the most basic threats. You’re always buried in a book or your phone, headphones on at full blast. If it weren’t for his quiet intervention, you would have been robbed or worse on your way home at least twice. 

He takes you because he believes you're not meant to be on your own. You need someone to care for you, to protect you from the world that you don’t fully understand. Really, it’s lucky your paths crossed. He’s certain you’ll come to see things his way in time. Until then, he’s turned his home into a beautiful little cage for you to live in, complete with an entire library filled with your favorite books, cozy blankets to keep you warm, and all the ingredients for the meals you love to cook and enjoy. He’s done his research on what you like and he’ll bring you anything you ask for. Afterall, he’s a provider at heart.

There’s no concern of you running away. You've seen the large snow leopard that prowls around outside, and the one time you made a foolish attempt to escape, Sergei was quick to show you that he wouldn't always be so gentle or understanding. As @writercole suggested, once he has you back, he’ll also end up keeping you tethered by the ankle for a while, a lesson that if you try to run, he’ll leash you.

After you recover from that experience Sergei finds you’re a much better pet, settling into your new life and role. You start cooking for him when he's home, and willingly crawl into bed beside him, seeking out his warmth on those cold winter nights. Soon, Sergei knows you’ll be ready for the next step: starting a family of your own.

Friedrich (in a modern AU) strikes me as the type who would quietly manipulate situations to his advantage, working behind the scenes to ensure things unfold just how he wants. He’d spot you working at a cafe or store he frequently visits and, from that moment, start working on a plan to make you his.

Rather than using overt force, he’d rely on subtle pressure and gaslighting, making you doubt yourself and your choices. He’d skillfully set up circumstances to undermine you—ensuring you miss out on a job you desperately need, getting you fired, or putting you in a position where you have no choice but to turn to him. When you're at your lowest, he’ll swoop in as the savior, the one who appears to protect you. His goal is to make you dependent on him alone, carefully ensuring that when the time comes for him to make his move, you're in no position to resist. Consent would be questionable, but he'd remind you every time you hesitated that you said yes, that you asked for his help, and that you invited him in.

I can also see him isolating you from friends and family, slowly pulling you away from the support system you once had. He’d definitely be the type to love-bomb you, showering you with overwhelming attention and affection, using his money and influence to manipulate you further. 

He strikes me as a baby trapper, sabotaging your birth control or tampering with his condoms to ensure you get pregnant. He believes you'd be the perfect wife and mother—you just need his help to realize that. Once he has you, he’d be the most loving and attentive husband, always caring, but beneath that sweetness lies an unshakable belief that he knows what’s best. He’s the one who makes the decisions, subtly guiding everything with quiet confidence until, over time, the balance shifts in his favor and you start looking to him for help with even the easiest things. Despite all of this, Friedrich would likely still view himself as a good person, firmly rejecting any notion that he is abusive or in the wrong.

Tangerine is on the opposite end of the spectrum, much more inclined to use brute force and physical violence to make you understand your place. He has a short temper and struggles with impulse control, especially when you don't follow his demands. There’s no slow build-up with him—he has no time or patience for romance. The moment he sees you on the street, he decides you’re coming home with him, and that’s final. Or maybe Tangerine and Lemon are sent to kill your husband but when Tangerine sees just how sweet you are, completely unaware of who and what your husband really is, he decides to keep you for himself. After all, no one's going to miss you. They’ll assume you died in the house fire with your husband. 

Once he had you he would try and spoil you with a beautiful place to live, fine clothes and decadent food. He’d want you to look and dress a certain way for him. A darker version of him would fit the profile of a classic abuser—lashing out at you in anger, only to later show up with flowers and a hollow apology, turning the blame onto you as if you were the one who provoked it.

“Why do you have to make things so fuckin’ hard, huh?” Tangerine questions, caressing your bruised skin. “I hate when you make me do this to ya luv. You need to listen better.”

He’d definitely be the most terrifying of all the dark versions of the ATJ characters because of his unpredictability. (I do not know why but I have such a strong sense he’d pop you in the mouth/back hand you with those rings on and just….yeah.)

If Ives were to go dark, he’d likely abuse his power and authority in the workplace, targeting someone beneath him—someone who wasn’t military and who he could easily manipulate using his strength and knowledge. Maybe you’re his admin, someone he works closely with, and no one questions the fact that you’re often in his office with the door closed or staying late to finish tasks together. He’d be blunt about his intentions with you, setting clear expectations for how things would unfold. His actions would be predictable—if you were a good girl, you’d be rewarded; if you misbehaved, there would be consequences. Ives would be a steady, unyielding force, confident that, with time, you’d fall into line.

[zepskies]

Talk to Me

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Summary: Ben had a vivid nightmare last night. You know how he is about his “man feelings.” But you try to get him to open up anyway, before you both lose your tempers.

AN: This was requested by my lovely friend @deans-spinster-witch. It's set in the Break Me Down-verse and is a sequel to the SB imagine below:

See this imagine for context: Ben loses you.

Word Count: 1,600 Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Imagine: You confront Ben about his fears.

“What the fuck is wrong with this cocksucking coffee maker?” Ben snarked.

He bumped the top of it with his hand, so hard you thought he was going to break it.

Your brows furrowed as you shot him a look. It was too early for all that.

“Nothing?” you said. “Worked just fine for me.”

He sported an even grumpier face as the coffee finally poured into his mug.

Something’s wrong, you thought.

Ben was usually quiet in the morning. Relaxed and slow until he’d had his coffee and started his routine, with his newspaper at his favorite lounge chair, then breakfast in the kitchen with you.

You were making pancakes on a griddle, but you were also watching your boyfriend. He wasn’t just quiet. He was downright grouchy and taciturn.

What crawled up his ass? you thought. Though you had your suspicions...

“Breakfast is done,” you called to him.

He eventually joined you, sitting down at the breakfast bar. You served him a mildly enormous stack, and just two pancakes for yourself. In most respects, Ben was still a bottomless pit.

However, after eating the first couple of pancakes in silence, he pushed away from his plate and leaned back in his seat. You held your coffee mug between both hands and eyed him.

“You okay, baby?” you asked, repeating the very words you’d asked him last night.

He glanced at you through surly brows. “Yeah. You can stop asking me that.”

Right, you thought. He’d been twitching in his sleep, muttering, making sounds that had worried you enough to wake him with a gentle hand on his dewy arm. His response had worried you too—that haze of disoriented shock, followed by relief when he recognized your face.

You’d comforted him the best you could after his nightmare, but he hadn’t wanted to talk about it. You knew he wouldn’t now, either. That didn’t stop you from trying.

You set down your mug and soothed a hand up his arm, until your fingers disappeared under his shirt sleeve.

“What’s got you all sunshine and rainbows then, Mr. Grouch?” you lightly teased. “I even made you pancakes. Still waiting on my thank you.”

Ben didn’t want to answer, though he briefly glanced at you. He slurped at his coffee.

You sighed. A tick of annoyance at your brow.

“Okay," you said. "Well, since we had breakfast here, I figured we could go out for lunch later when we get to the city. There’s this amazing deli I could take you to—”

“We’re not going,” Ben said.

You blinked in surprise. Your hand fell away from his shoulder. “What?”

“I’ve got things to do,” he said. And without looking at you, he grabbed his half-full plate and got up to bring it over by the sink. He speared a few pancakes back onto the plate you’d served them up in before dumping his plate into the sink.

At least he was learning something about living with you. Now, if he really wanted to impress you, he'd wash that damn dish.

But for now, you wanted answers more than you wanted clean plates. You slowly got up out of your chair and went to him. You tried your best not to be accusatory when you asked your next questions.

“What do you mean? What do you have to do?”

He didn’t seem to want to answer you. Or maybe, he didn’t have a good answer, because he was fucking lying.

You laid a hand on his arm. “Ben. I need you to talk to me right now, because this is our first day off together in weeks. You know this was supposed to be our day. So you’d better have a damn good reason.”

He frowned angrily down at you. “We’re not going because I fucking said so. That’s all you need to know.”

You glared back at him, standing your ground.

You raised a brow. “That’s not good enough with me, and you know it. But if that’s how you’re going to be about it, I’ll call Annie and make it a girls’ day.”

You turned on your heel to walk away, but an iron hand grabbed your wrist. Holding back a wince, you frowned at Ben over your shoulder. His face was tight with irritation.

“You’re not going any-damn-where,” he snapped.

“You better let me go, right now,” your temper snapped right back.

This man was protective, but he had never been this bad. Not even after you got out of the hospital after Vought Tower collapsed. Granted, you’d been fully healed. He’d never outright tried to forbid you from leaving the house though.  

“What the hell is your problem?” you said.

He didn’t want to let you go, but after a beat, he released you. His frown deepened when you had to rub the ache out of your wrist.

He hadn’t meant to grip you that hard. Part of him relented…but then it firmed back up, when he remembered last night. The images were still filtering through his mind on a loop.

The alley, the blood slipping through his fingers, your pale, cold cheek, and lifeless eyes staring up at him.

“There’s something we need to discuss,” he said gruffly.

You tilted your head at him. Your face was tight and angry now, but you still followed him into the living room. You sat down together on the couch, and with crossed arms, you waited for him to speak.

His elbow rested on his knee while his hand swept over his mouth and beard. Then his gaze slid over to yours.

“You need to take Compound V,” he said.

To say that shocked you was an understatement. Your eyes widened, and your body went rigid.

“Excuse me?” you said lowly.

“There’s no way around it,” he said. Grit was laced in his voice, but you didn’t care.

“I’ve made myself very clear—”

“And you also said we’d revisit this little chat, so here we are,” Ben retorted. “You need to live in fucking reality. I can’t be with you 24/7. I don’t trust those CIA fucks to wipe their own ass, let alone keep an eye on you. Especially when I’m in the field.”

You just managed to lasso in your temper when you finally realized where this was coming from. You inhaled a couple of calming breaths. Your fingers tapped your knees. You sat up straighter before you turned to him more fully.

Your hand reached out to cover his on his thigh.

“Ben,” you started. Soft and even. “What did you dream last night?”

His face tightened further, his lips pressed into a line. It took him a moment, but eventually he answered.

“Nothing. Doesn’t fucking matter.”

“We both know that it does,” you chided.

When he just maintained his stoic façade, you slid closer to him on the couch. You curled a hand around his bicep and pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

You looked up at him.

He didn’t want to break.

You just waited until the green of his eyes met yours.

“Hey. It’s just me,” you said softly. “Talk to me.”

His brows knit together, slightly. His jaw clenched and twitched under his skin.

“I lost you,” he said.

Admitting to that was like admitting that his uniform was a lie; that he had no fear. That he was invulnerable. That he was a god in human form.

But you had become the last human part of him. To lose that would be to lose everything again, worse than 1984.

Somehow, you’d become his reason…for most things. He didn’t think you realized it, nor would he allow himself to tell you.

His eyes closed when you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. You let your fingers sift through his hair, brushing it back and away from his forehead.

“Do you know why I want to stay normal?” you asked. "Albeit fragile and breakable."

He didn’t answer, but his eyes silently asked for one.

“Because I want to stay myself,” you said. “Power corrupts, and there’s a big chance I wouldn’t be the woman you loved anymore if I injected that shit into my veins.”

Ben frowned. He hadn’t considered that…but he still felt it was a price worth paying.

You moved off the couch and into his lap. He welcomed you with an arm curling around your waist and another moving up your thigh.

Your arms twined around his neck, and you kissed him properly, nice and slow. He tasted like coffee and maple syrup. His hair was soft between your curling fingers.

You parted from him after a while, just to press another comforting kiss to his temple.

“I know what I’m asking of you, and I’m sorry,” you whispered against his skin. “But we’ll figure something else out.”

“How?” he scoffed, his brows furrowing again. “In a few decades—”

“I thought you didn’t mind a few wrinkles,” you teased.

A smirk flickered across his lips. “You know what the fuck I mean.”

“I know,” you nodded. “But we have time. I promise, we’ll figure this out.”

Ben didn’t totally believe you. There was going to come a time where you were going to have to make a choice: between him and your principles.

It wasn’t fair, but that was the reality. Life wasn’t fucking fair.

Until then, maybe he could make one concession.

“If you want…” he said. You leaned back enough to see his face.

He met your gaze. “We can go to dinner later. In the city.”

A slow smile spread across your face.

“But we’re getting a private room,” he warned, squeezing your hips. “And we’re driving there and back. That’s it.”

Your smile warmed further, and kissed the corner of his mouth. You were sure you could convince him to go a Broadway show afterwards, if you plied him in a few key ways...

“I like the idea of a private room,” you said.

His fingers crept up your pajama pants, drifting down between your thighs. His thumb started to stroke warmth through your panties. It had you smiling, sighing, subtly pressing into his hand.

His smirk deepened.

“You do, don’t you?” he said.

You let out a breathy laugh at the change in him. It didn’t take much to get him worked up. So you hugged him close and spoke into his ear all the things you had planned for him tonight.

Before, and after dinner.

AN: Lol I love writing this lovable asshole. 💚 Especially in the BMD-verse.

I have more Dean imagines coming soon! Including a requested sequel to "You are Dean's one exception," in which Sam "crosses the line"... 🫣

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD Tag List (Part 1):

@this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@xoxovienna @katherineann814 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67

[immobulusmalfoy]

Won't Say I'm in Love // Fred Weasley x F!Reader

Summary: In which the reader is best friends with the twins and they convince her to help them with something extra special for WWW. Warnings: Mentions of food and bodily harm, plus Umbridge. A/N: Look what I found in my drafts! A Freddie fic I forgot to post! > DO NOT, under any circumstance, repost my works on any other platform or even on this one. I don’t condone it, haven’t condoned it, and never will. <

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When you woke up Saturday morning after a seriously long week of classes, the first thing you wanted to hear was definitely not your name being yelled at top volume from a certain boisterous Weasley twin you happened to call your best friend.

“Fred, you better have a damn good reason for coming in here at this ungodly hour and waking me up with your screechy voice. And if you don’t shut it, I’m going to blast you with the nastiest hex I can think of,” you warned him without opening your eyes. You snuggled further into your pillows, but Fred snatched the blankets off your body.

“Wake up! I need your help with something.” Fred demanded.

“What the bloody hell do you want, Weasley? Can’t a girl get any sleep these days? I was dreaming,” you grumbled, body pulled into a ball to keep from freezing in the chilly air of the dorms. Fred groaned.

“You’re such a drama queen. I need your potions expertise.”

“Oh yeah?” You peered up at him, both eyes open, suddenly curious. “What for?”

“Y’know those Wonder Witch products you’ve been helping me and Georgie with? The secret ones even Granger and the rest don’t know about?” Fred started.

“You mean those ‘temporary’ love potions that took me two months to get right? The ones that you made me try and caused me to be in love with Lee for three miserable weeks before I figured out the issues? Those products?” you asked, embarrassed when you remembered what you had said and done during that time. It was mortifying.

Fred sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled an affirmative answer. “But this time is different!”

“How so?” You cross your arms, now fully awake. You glanced to the side of your bed, hoping Fred had the decency to at least have brought you breakfast or caffeine or both. You were disappointed to see that he’d done neither. “You’re not very good at convincing me. Didn’t even bring me food,” you grumbled.

“This one is a soulmate potion.” Fred grinned, eyebrows going up and down.

“A soulmate potion? What the bloody hell is that?”

“A potion that helps you find your soulmate? It’s not that difficult to grasp, mate. No one’s ever done it before!” Fred was animatedly explaining his thought process and you groaned as he laid out the plan.

“And I suppose you want me to test it once I brew it?” you sighed.

“Well, it would probably be best? Unless you want to test it on some first years? I’m sure they’d love to have a go. Who wouldn’t want to find their soulmate?” Fred’s eyes glittered with mischief.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” You grumbled as you rolled out of bed, blindly searching for a sweater to dispel the cold taking over your frame. You ended up with one of the Christmas sweaters Molly had knitted you over your pajamas causing Fred to grin.

“Let’s go, then!” He snatched you away down the stairs, which did turn into a slide, and eventually into the room of requirement where you’d set up a temporary testing space for your potions experiments and their various prank products. Much to your chagrin, George was already there.

“Hey, sweetheart. Got you some breakfast and a cuppa since this nitwit didn’t want to let you sleep.” George gestured to the potions table where he’d laid out the aforementioned items. You brightened immediately.

“Georgie, you’re now my favorite twin. Don’t you forget it.” You said, smacking a kiss to his cheek as you headed over to the table.

“And what am I?” Fred scoffed. You shrugged and held up your food. The tea was downed quickly as well as the beans on toast before you got to work making notes on what both boys wanted the potion to do.

Unlike the love potions you’d created for them, which had actually been a whole line of about five different versions that all did similar things, but still varied in results, this potion was going to be highly complicated.

Two weeks later, you finally had a prototype to give them. Fourteen days of little to no sleep and brewing more than sixty cauldrons of failed potions, except for this one. The potion swirled a nice purple color, but you’d designed it to taste a bit like butterbeer at the boys’ request. It was designed to have different results for each user, as well. To find their soulmates, they’d have different side effects. Some users might feel their soulmate’s pain, some might see only in black and white until they touched their soulmate, or have small identifying tattoos show up on their skin from their soulmate. Only one person would have to take the potion in order for them to figure out who their soulmate was, one bonus you were glad of.

“So, who wants to take the plunge and try it first?” You asked nervously. Fred grinned and handed the little bottle back to you across the Gryffindor table at breakfast. Some of the first years were watching from down the table and you eyed them cautiously. You never knew what some of them would try to get their hands on Wizard Wheezes’ prototypes, especially after they’d all gone bonkers for the Skiving Snackboxes and the silly hat that made your whole head invisible.

“As our lovely assistant, dedicated friend, and favorite classmate (sorry Lee), we figured we’d give you the honors of finding your soulmate first. It’s been ages since you’ve been on a date anyway.” Fred grinned.

“What my dear brother is trying to say is that we want you to be happy and we very much appreciate what you’ve done with our products so far, so we’d love for you to find the person who’s going to make you happier.” George smoothed over his twin’s remarks with a pointed glare at the other redhead.

“Fine. Take notes of what I say.” You snorted. The potion was downed with four sips, the flavor seeming to follow your directives. “The taste is decent, but could use some tweaking. Side effect is that I feel a bit woozy and I’m seeing a few black spots in my vision. I’m not sure if this will work, but it seems alright so far.”

“Do you feel any different? Are you seeing in black and white? Can you hear your soulmate’s words in your head? Did initials ink themselves onto your skin?” The twins bombarded you with questions which you tried to answer as they made notes on a parchment, but the truth was that nothing seemed to have happened. There was nothing that would suggest your potion worked or that it followed any of the soulmate stories muggle writers attempted to tell.

“I don’t feel any different. It may not have worked.” You sighed, eying the potion bottle as if it would tell you what was wrong with it. It couldn’t. You ran over the ingredients and your methods mentally, but even that didn’t give any clues.

“Quidditch practice, lads! Don’t make me yank you by ‘yer ears.” Angelina Johnson’s barking yell sounded from the other end of the table and your favorite twins groaned.

“We’ll discuss this later. We’ve got a quidditch captain to torment.” George grinned, both boys rushing away.

About two hours later, you were in the room of requirement again working on the potion and taking notes on the color and taste when a sharp pain started shooting through your right arm, the muscle throbbing.

“Shit,” you cursed, dropping the vial you’d been swirling. It shattered on the ground, glittering for a second before the room sucked the potion and the broken glass into the ground to clean it. “Thanks, room.”

The muscles in your upper arm throbbed, and you pulled up your sleeve to look at it, a gigantic bruise the size of a bludger forming under the skin. You stared at it in disbelief, then darted your eyes to the potion. It worked.

Somewhere out there, you had a soulmate and you’d just gotten their injury etched into your own skin. But then you started cursing yourself, because of course you happened to get the one effect you hadn’t really wanted.

“Why couldn’t it have been the tattoos or the black and white thing?” You muttered, moving back over to the table to make notes on the things you’d just discovered.

You were so lost in your studies and notes that you didn’t even notice the twins entering the room with Lee until they were right next to you.

“Any developments?” George asked, causing you to jump.

“Merlin’s beard!” You yelled, smacking him on the arm. Fred and Lee snickered from behind you both.

“Well?” Fred asked expectantly, his gaze sweeping over the table that was now covered with multiple cauldrons and a rack that you’d filled with at least twelve versions of the soulmate potion. He made to pick one up, but you swatted his hand away.

“I’ve made some developments, but those ones aren’t ready yet. So don’t touch my system, Weasley.”

“Alright, alright. Won’t touch ‘em. We’ve come to bring you down to dinner anyway. It’s getting late.” Fred said, guiding you towards the door.

“How long have I been in here?” you asked, forgetting that you’d forgotten the wrist watch your mum had gotten you so you had no clue what time it was or when you’d last eaten.

“Johnson kept them in practice for about five hours, so we missed lunch.” Lee remarked as he walked beside you, “George nearly got her with a bludger to get her to let us leave, but it got Fred in the arm instead.”

You froze, hearing what Lee had said, but the others didn’t seem to notice and you darted your eyes to Fred’s right arm. There was no way, right?

“Yeah, gave him a nasty bruise.” George winced, “Ah well, nothing a little bruise paste can’t clear up.”

“Was it that bad?” you asked shakily, hoping they wouldn’t notice the inflection to your voice. You needed more details, more time, to determine if what you suspected was true.

“Nah, just got a lump on my arm the size of that bludger. It’s pretty gnarly. I’ll use it to market the bruise paste later tonight. See if we can get some of the Gryffindors to add that to their purchase list.” Fred grinned, surreptitiously rubbing his arm. His right arm. The same arm that was sporting a bruise on your own body.

Dinner passed quickly with the twins talking to you and Lee about upcoming plans for the products you all were inventing when, all of a sudden, Lee stabbed Fred’s left hand hard with his fork, nodding his head at a Ravenclaw witch who had just entered the Great Hall. He’d been talking about her for weeks, but never made a move to ask her out despite his long-winded speeches of being a ‘lady-killer.’

The pain radiated on your own hand and you were horrified to see the marks from the tines on both the back of your hand and Fred’s, though he didn’t notice since he was too busy brandishing his own fork at Lee who’d surrendered quickly. You snatched your hand off the table, trying to focus on your pumpkin juice instead of the fight the boys were having, rolling your eyes at their stupidity.

Only George noticed your odd actions, but he very smartly didn’t say a word in your presence and you didn’t notice his pointed stares. You were trying to convince yourself, and failing, that what you really needed was a good night’s sleep and that you must be imagining things. But two injuries to Fred in one day and you receiving the aftermath of both of them just couldn’t be a coincidence.

But the topping on the cake was three days later when Fred landed himself in detention with Umbridge. You knew what she was going to make him do and so you waited in your bed for the letters to appear on the back of your hand, as you figured they would. It would be the final test to see if you were right about the soulmate potion and who it was pointing you towards.

And finally, there they were. A burning sensation took over your skin, making you feel like you’d been stung by a hundred bees as the cuts appeared on your skin, spelling out the phrase “I must not be a nuisance.” You gasped, the pain sharper than you’d expected. You hadn’t landed yourself in detention with Umbridge yet, but this was horrible. The pain made you cry, but the shock of your findings was almost worse.

Fred Weasley was your soulmate. There was no other explanation.

You laid back on your bed, clutching your hand, and closed your eyes. Fred couldn’t be your soulmate, you reasoned. For multiple reasons.

Number one, even though you’d had a horrible crush on him for the past year or so, he had never once seemed to indicate that he felt the same and you were never going to ask him. Number two, he had just broken up with Angelina a few months prior on summer holiday and tensions were still high between the two of them. You were sure that that was part of the reason she’d kept them in practice for so long the other night. Number three, the only logical thing was that he’d tampered with the potion so that it would point to him and so they could get a laugh.

All three things made you upset, so you were grateful when sleep claimed you for the night, and you were thankful that you didn’t hear any of your roommates come in either.

The next morning, the back of your hand was still mottled and you looked at it in shock. The pain was gone, but the scars were still there. There was no way you were going to be able to hide this without a glamor of some sort. So that’s what you did.

At breakfast, you were strangely quiet, even when the twins asked you for updates on the potion. You were hesitant to say it worked, but the words came out anyway when they asked. Both their eyes nearly bugged out of their heads when you said you’d realized who your soulmate was and that they were at Hogwarts.

“Who? Who is it?” They asked, stumbling over each other’s words as they grilled you for information.

“I’m not revealing that.” you scoffed. “Now, I’ve taken copious notes on the subject, improved the taste of the potion, and made sure it can be replicated, so you shouldn’t have any issues there. You can market it with the Wonder Witch line, or do something else. But that’s all I’ll say on the matter.”

George and Fred both looked at you curiously, but didn’t disagree with you so you let the matter drop as you discussed the ways you were going to prevent Umbridge from figuring out some of the other things you were up to with your inventions.

But the twins didn’t really let the matter drop and they combed through your notes, finding the one paper you had forgotten to take with you from the Room of Requirement.

“Injury to the arm last Saturday, imprints of a fork on the same day, a burn from a firework on Wednesday, and blimey! Words from Umbridge’s evil quill etched into the skin of the hand.” George read aloud to both Fred and Lee.

“Is she taking notes of my injuries?” Fred asked, looking over George’s shoulder at the list you’d written.

Lee gasped, then started cackling, pointing at Fred with tears in his eyes as he continued to laugh.

“Quit taking the piss, mate. What are you laughing for?”

“Merlin’s beard, Fred! You asked her to make a soulmate potion and she got one of the lamest options! Did you tamper with the cauldron when she was making it?” Lee asked, tears of laughter still twinkling in his dark eyes.

Fred looked at him in confusion.

“George, what’s this tosser talking about?”

George, to his credit, shook his head and handed him the list. He’d figured it out far quicker than Fred and Lee had, noticing your odd behavior around Fred for the past week or so, especially when you started taking notice of what Fred had done to himself injury-wise.

“She’s your soulmate, you dummy.” Lee answered for him.

Fred furrowed his brow, reading over the list. And sure enough, it wasn’t just a list of his injuries, but where they’d appeared on your body. Not his. You’d correlated them to him, though, and it was obvious now. You were his soulmate. His best friend, you.

Lee and George stood there, waiting to see his reaction, but Fred didn’t say a word before rushing out of the room with the list in his hand. Lee and George tore after him, sure he was about to muck this up.

And muck it up he did.

Fred found you in the common room, having fallen asleep reading a book. You were sprawled on one of the couches, Hermione and Harry near you in comfy chairs by the fire. They looked up when the twins and Lee came in, but stared on in horror as Fred marched right up to their friend with a crazed look in his eyes and shook you awake.

“W-what?” you startled, dropping your book on the floor. The impact woke you immediately and you looked up just to make eye contact with Fred. You gasped, seeing the look in his eyes.

“What is this?” he demanded, shoving your list in your hands. You took the list and scanned over it, gaping up at him without saying anything. Fred didn’t speak either as he snatched your left hand and pointed his wand at it, saying, “Revelio!”

The glamor you’d placed over it to hide the scar faded immediately, leaving the words glaringly imprinted in your skin. You snatched your hand back, trembling, and looked back up at Fred who was looking more determined than you’d ever seen him.

“So did the potion work?” he asked thickly. You nodded hesitantly. “And it’s me? I’m your soulmate?” Another nod.

Fred raked his hands through his hair. Lee and George watched from behind, ready to jump in if needed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Fred asked incredulously.

You gaped up at him, panicking as you stole glances around you at the other people in the common room. Quite a few of them were looking over at your little group, causing you to shrink into yourself.

Why didn’t you tell him? Why? So many reasons, but one being the most notable.

“I didn’t want to force it on you.” you murmured, moving to a sitting position on the couch as you kept your hand hidden. Fred knelt down beside you on the floor and gently took your hands in his this time.

“It’s not forced if I want this too. Why do you think I had you make this potion?” Fred asked quietly, rubbing his fingers over the scarred tissue his request had inadvertently caused.

“For the profit?” you asked dumbly, still trying to process the turn of events here. Fred laughed, but not unkindly. He smiled at you.

“Because I wanted you to be happy. You’ve always been there for us and we’ve done precious little for you in return. And I’ll be honest, you’ve been catching my eye for the past year, so I’m thrilled that it’s you and me, yeah?”

“Really?” you whispered.

“Honest to Merlin.”

“And you’re not upset with me?” you asked nervously.

“Not in the slightest. Do I wish I’d noticed sooner? Absolutely, but we can’t change that. I’m sorry you got the one side effect you didn’t want. You didn’t deserve to feel the same pain as me or get marks because of it.”

“It was worth it. Well, mostly. They all hurt like hell.”

Fred chuckled.

“Now what’s the antidote to your potion? Y’know, so you can stop getting the same injuries as me?”

And that’s when you blanched.

“I didn’t make one.”

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Mistakes Were Made

Pairing: Bartender!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: seeing bucky naked and he seeing you naked and it's awkward

Summary: Bucky has a date for the first time since breaking up with Sharon, and you try not to ruin it more than you already have. Something awkward happens, and now you have to try and fix that, or else Bucky may never speak to you again.

One in a Million Series

Square Filled: intimacy without sex (2024) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Word travels fast when you’re living in an apartment with three men. Bucky met someone at the bar he works at and is now going on a date with her. It’s his first date since being with Sharon, so you can imagine how nervous he is even if he doesn’t show it. Sharon knew all of the bad things Bucky has done in his life and used it against him, at least, that’s what he’s told you. You’ve never met her and you hope you never do. Bucky is a great man and you can’t believe she ever let someone like him go.

You walk into the kitchen and see all three men already in there.

“Do you know where you’re taking her?” Steve asks.

“No.”

“I can give you some of my favorite date spots,” you say.

“It’s not a date and no offense, but I don’t need your advice,” Bucky sighs.

“Awh, come on. I want to talk to you guys about this kind of stuff. What’s her name?”

“Christina,” Sam smirks.

“Sam,” Bucky sighs.

“Christina, huh? That’s a nice name,” you smile. “I think I’ve seen her around the bar. She’s hot.”

“Yeah, I know she is.”

“Have you been out with anyone since Sharon?” His silence is your answer. “Wow, big shoes to fill. That’s scary. You never know what she’s thinking or if she even likes the way you dress.”

“This is why I don’t talk to you, Y/N,” Bucky sighs.

“Bucky, you’re going to be fine,” Steve chuckles. “Just don’t talk about Sharon.”

“Or your trauma,” Sam chirps.

“Or the fact that your metal arm can squeeze the life out of her,” you chuckle. Bucky rolls his eyes and leaves the kitchen to his bedroom. You giggle under your breath and pour yourself a cup of coffee. “He’s going to be okay, right?”

“Yeah. Dates aren’t really his thing. He’s too much in his own head to focus on anything else.”

“Sharon must have hurt him pretty badly, huh?” Sam and Steve don’t answer. “I should apologize.”

“No, just leave him alone.”

You ignore Steve and walk to Bucky’s room which has music coming out of it. Instead of knocking, which you should be doing, you open his door and walk in. You freeze when you see Bucky completely naked, giving you an unobstructed view of everything. You thought he was well-endowed but this just proves it. His date is one lucky woman.

“What… What are you…?”

You shriek-giggle and smile widely. You quickly turn and leave his room, catching Sam and Steve in the living room.

“Can I talk to you guys for a second? Something happened. It was an accident and I just want to come clean about it.” Both men wait for you to continue speaking. “I, um… I accidentally saw Bucky’s… pee-pee.”

“What did she just say?” Sam asks Steve in a low tone.

“It was an accident but it’s not a big deal.” Bucky’s bedroom door opens and he walks out wearing jeans and a hoodie. “Hey, Bucky.” He walks to the front door and you intercept him so he can’t leave. He refuses to look at you in the eyes. “So, that was weird, huh?”

“I’m trying to leave, Y/N.”

“I think we should talk about it.”

“You’re blocking the door.”

You sigh and step to the side, allowing Bucky to leave the apartment. As soon as he’s gone, you groan and flop onto the couch.

“God, that was horrible! What am I going to do?”

“Look, we all heard your giggle. That was probably the worst thing you could have done,” Sam says. “You don’t laugh at a naked man.”

“Yeah. Just give him time. Trust me, it’s not the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to him. He’ll get over it.”

“I can’t just sit around and do nothing.”

“Yes, you can, and you will. Leave it alone, Y/N.”

“Please, Steve, I need your help,” you beg with wide eyes.

“Y/N, you’re going to act like this never happened, okay?”

“We live together. We’re a family. Families talk about things.”

“No, families ignore things until they go away,” Sam says. “Just leave him alone.”

You can’t get Bucky out of your head for the entire night. He doesn’t come home which means he either spent the night with his date or he got a hotel room alone. In the morning, you’re in the kitchen eating breakfast when Bucky comes home wearing the same outfit. You can’t ignore what happened. You grew up in a family where you shared everything.

“Hi, Bucky.” He looks at you but doesn’t say anything. “So, your date went well, huh? You didn’t come home last night.” Again, he doesn’t say anything. He just pours himself some coffee. “I have something that made me think of you.” You reach into your purse and pull out a stick with feathers and jewels glued to it. “It’s a Feelings Stick. Whoever is holding the Feeling Stick has permission to say whatever he or she is feeling without being judged. It’s popular among my students. Care to go first?”

Bucky reaches over and takes the stick from your hands. With his metal hand, he snaps the stick in half.

“Believe it or not, that’s not the first time someone has broken my Feelings Stick.” You reach into your purse and pull out a smaller version of the stick. “I have a travel size.”

“I’m out of here.”

He turns and walks to his bedroom but you chase after him.

“Bucky, wait, please! We have to talk about this!” He leaves the apartment instead and heads to the elevator. “I’m sorry I saw your… pee-pee.” He steps into the elevator and you follow him. “I also didn’t mean to laugh.”

“Why did you? Is there something funny about it?”

“No. No, it’s beautiful. Big. A real treat. Your date is a lucky woman.” Bucky tries to get off the elevator but you grab his arm and pull him back in. You press the emergency stop button so you’re stuck here. “Please, Bucky, talk to me.”

“Y/N, there’s nothing to talk about. You ruined my date. When I tried to take my clothes off, all I heard was your crazy little,” he imitates your giggle, “giggle-scream. All I wanted was to have meaningless sex with a beautiful woman and now I can’t even do that.”

“Bucky, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He presses the emergency stop button to get the elevator working again so it stops on your floor. He walks out but this time, you don’t follow him. You need to fix this but you don’t know how. Instead of going back to the apartment, you leave the building entirely. The only person who might be able to help you is Natasha. She’s at work so you drive over to her office building where she’s sitting in her office.

“Hey, you have a second?” you ask and knock on the door.

“Hey, Y/N. Come in.” You do and close the glass door behind you. She closes out whatever she is working on and looks at you. “What’s wrong?”

“I think I messed up with Bucky.” You explain to her what just happened. “What am I going to do, Nat?”

“Do you like him?”

“What?” You perk up and refuse to meet her eye. “No.”

“You totally do!”

“Natasha…”

“Was he big?”

“Bigger than I’ve ever seen, but that’s beside the point. I don’t want him to hate me. He won’t talk to me.”

“Okay,” Natasha sighs and leans back. “There is only one solution to this. You’ve seen his, so show him yours.”

It might not be the best solution to this but it might work. You leave her office and head back home only to see Bucky isn’t there. According to Steve, he’ll be back soon which gives you a perfect opportunity to put your plan into motion. You stand in front of your mirror completely naked, looking over your body in thought. This might work. You grab a towel and sneak into Bucky’s room without the other guys seeing you.

The last time you surprised a guy when you were naked, he ended up cheating on you, but Bucky is different than Jack. You don’t wait long before you hear Bucky come home.

He’s not alone.

A woman giggles, probably Christina. He’s come back with his date, and he’s heading right to his room. If he sees you in here, he’ll never talk to you again. You can’t ruin his date for a second time. You drop to the other side of his bed and hide just as his bedroom door opens. He and Christina come in with their lips on each other, and you wince at the situation.

“God, you’re such a good kisser,” Christina moans.

She falls onto the bed with Bucky on top of her, and you peek your head up to see what’s going on. Neither of them has noticed you, so you need to leave while they’re distracted. You crawl awkwardly while keeping your towel secure on your body. She moans again when he kisses her neck, and you look at the door. If you were to run, you might make it.

So, you do, but you end up knocking something off his desk. Both he and Christina scream when they see you, and you jump back in shock.

“What are you doing, Y/N?!”

You rush to his door but you end up slipping on his shirt. Your towel drops, exposing everything to both him and Christina. You turn out of instinct and Bucky can’t help but look at your body.

��Welcome to our home,” you say to Christina.

You quickly flee from his room and race to your room before Steve and Sam can see you. Bucky’s date is ruined regardless, and she leaves in anger at what just happened. You quickly get dressed and peek your head out of the door just in time to see her leave.

“Loft meeting. Now!” Bucky shouts. You leave your bedroom and join Steve and Sam on the couch. Bucky doesn’t wait before exploding. “We have a thing called doors and what do you do with them? You knock on them before opening them!”

“I’m sorry, Bucky.”

“Just knock! Don’t sneak into my room!” You reach into your purse and pull out the travel-size Feelings Stick. “Put that shit away.”

“I feel that Nick isn’t honoring the Feeling Stick,” you say.

Sam grabs the stick and looks at Bucky. “I feel me, too.”

“What are you doing?”

Steve takes the stick next.

“I feel that I also have to support Sam and Y/N.”

“What are you two doing?” Bucky practically shouts.

Sam takes the stick back. “I feel like Bucky is yelling.”

They’re doing it to piss him off at this point, and it’s working. Bucky rolls his eyes and storms to his room before slamming the door. It’s not a laughing moment but you three snicker at what you did to Bucky. Bucky clearly needs some space, so you give him the rest of the day to be alone.

By the time six rolls around, you figure it’s time to try talking to him again. You walk to his bedroom and knock on the door.

“Come in.” You open the door and knock again. “You don’t have to knock once you’re in the room.”

“I’m really sorry Bucky. For everything.”

“I know.”

“Did Christina call you back?”

“No, I don’t think she will.”

“It’s her loss, honestly. You’re a great guy, Bucky.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he whispers.

“So, earlier, did you see, like, everything?”

“Yup.”

“Even my… gumbo pot?”

“Get out of my room.”

You giggle and leave the room knowing you and Bucky are going to be okay. Once the door is closed, Bucky smiles.

x

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[randomfandomworks]

Now, I know what a fool I’ve been. But if you kissed me now, I know you’d fool me again.

Bernard x GN!Head Elf!Reader

Synopsis: It’s believed that you and your fellow Head Elf couldn’t hate one another more. Isn’t it strange how wrong beliefs can be?

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: Potential OOC & Probable Grammar Mistakes

Pronouns Used: (You/Your)

A/N: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! This is my Christmas special, so I hope you enjoy a short rivals/enemies to lovers one shot with our favorite seasonal boyfriend, Bernard.

Post Dividers used within this post are made by @saradika-graphics

You and Bernard had never seen eye to eye that much was for certain. At every bit of confusion or conflict presented by the elves you both would only argue. It was a wonder that Santa, Scott Calvin, had continued to let you both hold the title of Head Elf. Seeing as how whenever you both were meant to handle a situation it ended in more disputes amongst the workers then any kind of resolution.

Yes, despite your shared circumstances, despite growing up through hundreds of years together, you just could never seem to understand the other. The only thing you seemed to agree on was ensuring the happiness of children around the world, and making sure your jobs were done well and properly.

Though even that wasn’t enough to stop your fighting. One year, you two had been quarreling about wrapping and what exactly was the proper way for the elves to wrap the presents. This argument came to be so out of hand that you fell behind schedule.

Half of the wrapping department was listening to you and the other half to him, and quite frankly it was slowing you all the way down. Cutting your production time by at least half if not more than. You had only made it to Christmas on schedule that year by the slimmest of margins and it was most certainly not easy. Which made you all the more uncertain of what your current situation would present for you.

It was an almost silent night amongst the North Pole as you walked with your Co-Head Elf, Bernard, the small bells on the two of your outfits ringing softly with every step. You were both doing your hardest to discuss and agree upon the best plan to amplify production. As to avoid any big arguments that may lead to another production and schedule delay.

As you walked you both came out onto a terrace of the pole, it was snowing in light flurries as you both stood. The fresh falling snow slowly catching onto your clothes and forming very light halos of delicate snowflakes in your hair.

Each of you were rapidly speaking, and slightly disagreeing, with the other. Which was the case for quite a while until Bernard had taken a step back and paused suddenly, his eyes fixated above you both.

“Bernard?” You called, only growing more and more confused as he continued to ignore you. Until finally you yourself looked up, following his line of sight until it came into view. A small bundle of mistletoe hung between the two of you. A quick realization washed over you as you quickly attempted to fix the situation at hand.

“I promise I told the Decoration Department that this was in the wrong place.” You assured, continuing to look up at the mistletoe that was hung between you and Bernard.

And you had, earlier that day when you had been passing by this exact terrace you stopped to watch them work. Usually your decoration department did a wonderful job, going above and beyond for the look of the pole.

However as you watched them you noticed them hanging the traditional plant up above the terrace, and you had asked them to take it down, bringing up a few reasons as to why it had been decided not to be placed in this area before. Eventually they agreed with you and told you they would remove the mistletoe, pleased with that answer you found it okay to walk away and get started on another job you had to complete.

The mistletoe’s leaves glittered with a slight bit of Christmas magic, magic that the decorators always dusted across the mistletoe within the pole before they were put up. You looked back to your Co-Head Elf with slight worried glances, getting ready to combat anything he had to say about it.

Though when his gaze finally met yours it seemed as though he wasn’t upset or bothered by the classic decoration, in fact he didn’t show any sign of distaste. It was strange at first before it dawned on you, perhaps as opposites you were, whilst you were upset with the placement he was not. Perhaps instead he would decide he liked it, even if only to start an argument with you.

As these thoughts danced in your head you watched a bit of the shimmering magic flutter down and land on you. It occurred to you now what this meant. How the plant dangled so perfectly between you two symbolized more than a mistake of your decorators.

You turned to meet Bernard’s gaze once again, he’d been oddly quiet, usually the two of you would result in much more commotion. His eyes were expectant though patient, observing you and your every move as he waited for you to finally realize what you both had quite literally walked right into.

You looked at him for a moment more before speaking up, “We don’t have to.” You gave, no one was around to hold you to this, and surely neither of you felt you were necessarily in a position where you must.

You watched as he stared at you for a moment more, his face scrunching slightly, he did that when he was thinking. Which was something you had learned about him but never admitted to, much like many of his other traits.

You heard him chuckle softly as he met your stare again, those eyes, you thought, they were always so full of life. Always shining with this sparkle that you couldn’t help but feel matched the spark of joy that the Christmas season brought. They certainly made you feel lighter, more joyful even, despite who they may belong to.

“Why would I not want to kiss you?” He finally spoke. He asked it as though it was more than obvious that’s what he’d been willing, no, wanting to do, as if it’s what he had been waiting so long for. It made you feel almost idiotic, foolish even.

You watched him take a small step towards you. Your bodies and faces mere inches from each other, you could smell him from here. He always smelt first like the fresh fire in his office, a light Smokey scent followed by those classical Christmas ones. Gingerbread specifically with a slight hint of sweet peppermint.

You held his gaze, his eyes roaming across your face, finding their way back to your lips time and time again. As his hands slowly found their way to your waist, he was warm, a comforting warm. The kind you feel when you come inside after a walk in the winter or bundled in a sweater as you decorated for Christmas.

And from your place before him you could see every silver freckle dusted on his cheeks. He looked almost angelic, you found yourself thinking with the snow sticking to him and the familiar light in his eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered softly, a question to be shared with you and you alone. His voice was almost desperate, though he wouldn’t make any move until he had absolute certainty from you.

Your breath became stuck in your throat, you paused, unsure of what move you should make before you unconsciously replied, “Yes.” You found yourself whispering, nodding softly as your own voice subconsciously matched his desperation.

In almost an instant your lips were against his, one of his hands coming to cradle the back of your neck, the soft ends of his sweater brushing against your cheek as he did so, with his other hand pulling you closer from his hold on your waist.

He tasted almost as sweet as he smelled, just like the new sugar cookies the bakery had been working on, and cinnamon, from his hot chocolate you found yourself remembering. He always had his cocoa with cinnamon.

He pulled away from you with a shaky sigh, a sweet smile spreading to his face as the sparkle in his eye shone brighter than you thought it had perhaps ever had before. His hold on you was still gentle but enough to keep you close, almost as though he never wished to let you go.

Looking at him now, taking notice of every detail about him, and the way he smiled at you, a sweet, loving smile that warmed you even more than his hold. It all made you feel more of a fool than before.

Has he always looked at you this way?

Has the sight of his smile always swooned you?

And have you just been so oblivious as to ignore it?

It had been foolish for sure, your attitudes towards one another, the arguments, and specifically waiting so long for this.

Thinking it all over you couldn’t help but breathe him in and pull him in once again, putting a silence to your thoughts as you kissed him once more.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 5: We Got Us An IKEA Virgin

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

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

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

Word Count: 5.3K

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

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

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

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

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Spotify Playlist 🪴

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Of course it hadn't all been good. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

Or maybe a whole damn field of it.

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

“You’re getting another plant?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ben it's okay-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So does that fucking nickname." He sighs.

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

"What's wrong?" Ben asks.

"Huh?" You look up at him.

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

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

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

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

"It's sort of comfy."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wow that's actually kind of sweet.

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

“Huh?”

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

And he’s back.

“Why don’t you just-“

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

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

“Be nice.” You mutter under your breath to Ben, who huffs in response. “Hey Jake. Ben and I were just looking at couches.”

“Couches?” Jake takes in your close proximity and the fact that you’re wearing Ben’s jacket. “Why?”

“Oh well-“

“For our apartment.” Ben says tightly, emphasizing the word 'our.' He’s frowning at Jake, eyes narrowed.

Why does he have such a problem with him?

“You guys are moving in together?” Jake looks confused, and if he clocks Ben’s rude attitude he doesn’t show it. “I thought you said that you just work together?”

“Why do you care plant boy?” Ben snaps.

“Ben!” You hiss, elbowing him hard. “I’m sorry Jake, you’ll have to excuse Gramps, he’s not used to talking to civilized people.” You turn to glare at Ben. “Why don’t you go look at that couch over there?”

“I’m comfortable here, thanks Petals.”

You continue to glare at him while Jake stands there awkwardly not sure what to say.

“Fucking fine.” Ben mutters under his breath and stomps off in the direction of a bright yellow couch that looks like it could sleep five people.

You turn back to Jake with an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry-“

“It’s okay.” Jake smiles. “My sister is dating someone just like him. I’m used to it.”

I doubt she’s dating a horny 104 year old that’s been on ice for forty years and tortured in a Russian lab.

“What are you doing here?” You look down at his cart noting the ceramic planters.

"They're having a sale, thought we could use some new ones for display in the shop." Jake shrugs. "I see that you found a plant you like."

"Well you can never have too many." You smile.

"I completely agree." Jake glances over to where Ben is supposed to be trying out a brilliant yellow couch, and he is sitting on it, but he's glaring at Jake. "Um, well I guess I'll see you at work on Monday?"

"Yep I'll be there."

"Oh actually-" Jake pauses to clear his throat. "There's a plant show this weekend at the farmer's market by my apartment on Saturday morning. Did you want to come with me? It might be fun."

"Oh-um- I'm not sure. Butcher might have something to do for me to do on Saturday. And I'm sure you're plenty capable of picking out inventory." You smile at that last part. It was true, Jake always did a wonderful job of picking out plants for the shop. He'd never asked you to go with him before.

"Actually-" Jake rubs the back of his neck, cheeks flushed. "I-uh- didn't mean for inv-"

"I don't like this one Petals." Ben shouts from the other side of the room interrupting what Jake was going to say.

You turn to stare at him. He's still sitting on the brilliant yellow couch, his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Jake.

He's such a toddler, can't sit still for two seconds.

You sigh and twist back to Jake. "I'm sorry he's a literal child. What were you saying?"

"I-" Jake clears his throat, smiling tightly. His eyes flick back to Ben's cold stare, before he looks back at you. "Nevermind. I'll see you at work on Monday okay?"

"Yeah okay." You hold up your hand in a wave as he turns and leaves, walking quickly away down the concrete path towards the front doors.

You stomp over to the couch where Ben is still glowering at Jake.

"I like the gray one better." Ben stands and points at the one you two had originally been standing at when Jake walked up.

"I can't believe you just did that. Why did you have to be so mean? He was just being nice, making conversation." You huff, planting your hands on your hips. "You're from the fucking '20s aren't you supposed to understand basic human decency instead of acting like a modern day fuck-boy?"

"I don't understand what that means. And I don't like him."

"Why? What has he done to make you hate him? You've barely said two words to him since you met four days ago."

"I just don't." Ben frowns at Jake's retreating figure, who does seem to be gaining some serious speed.

You couldn't blame him, Ben could look downright murderous when he wanted to. But you didn't understand why he hated Jake so much, why he couldn't stand to be around him. Jake was polite and kind, yes, two things opposite of Ben, but Jake hadn't done anything to make Ben hate him. You'd been present at both of their interactions and Jake hadn't said anything mean let alone frowned at Ben.

"He's my boss. And if we're going to be seen in public together sometimes you're going to have to try to make an effort to be nicer to him."

"Why?"

"Because I need that job Gramps! Butcher's pay sucks, and I don't have a bank account that has been gaining interest for eighty years, not to mention any money from being a supe or staring in ridiculous films. And if he fires me because of you I will send a Terminator into the past to kill your child self!" You poke him in the chest angrily, before you walk back over to the gray couch to lift the price tag up.

You try not to wince. It was a little more than what you had been prepared for, but Ben actually liked this one and he would be the one using it the most. It felt selfish to deprive him of that, especially since he'd been sleeping in a tank for the past forty years.

Maybe we should just buy him a bed for the living room and make that his room. It would be cheaper and I wouldn't have to give up name brand things. Your cheeks flush for a moment, realizing if you did that, you’d have to sit on Ben’s bed to watch tv. Oh yeah he’d love that. He would make so many jokes about how he finally got me into bed with him. Why did I agree to let him live with me again?

Ben looks at the price over your shoulder, noticing your reaction. "Don't worry about it."

"What?" You glance up at him surprised.

"I'll pay for it." Ben didn't look like he was kidding, his green eyes were focused on you, an unreadable emotion hidden behind them that you'd seen only a few times before. It was the same one that he'd had just before you left Butcher's apartment four days ago, the one Ben had when you said you were going to walk home alone, and the one that was so different than the angry or aroused one he had when he looked at you.

"No." You shake your head. "Ben that's crazy, I'm going to pay for some of it. I sit on that couch too-"

"Sorry Petals. I'm not going to let you pay for my bed." Ben smirks, and strokes his finger down your cheek. "But I'd love to have you join me in it."

You glare at him, leaning back so his hand falls from your face. "Ben I'm serious. I don't want you to have to pay for the whole thing."

"And I don't want you to pay for it."

"So you're saying that we're at a stalemate unless one of us is willing to commit a felony?"

"Why are you so against me paying for this? Are you going to yell at me again about the wonders of modern day feminism? Let me know now so I can rip my ears off in preparation."

"First of all, the outside of the ear is actually purely for show and made of cartiledge which means for you to avoid listening to me you would have to rip out the inside of your ears." You drop the finger you were holding up. "And second of all, it feels wrong because I use the couch when I crochet or when Annie and I drink wine, eat greasy pizza, and watch monster movies-"

"You guys get drunk and watch monster movies? Aren't women supposed to like sappy shit like Jane Austen?"

"I mean I love Mr. Darcy as much as anyone, but I'm not ashamed to admit my comfort movie is Jurassic Park. Something about them running around for their lives makes me feel better about mine."

Especially now that I have to deal with you all day long.

Ben blinks at you like he can't figure you out. Personally you were used to people looking at you that way.Weirdness was a privilege and you owned it, wore it like an eccentric billionaire's wife in a mink coat in the middle of summer.

"Petals." Ben says quietly, the look in his eyes shifts to something softer, something that you'd never seen before. Even the way he says the nickname is different, not the harsh way he says it or the teasing way, it's almost gentle. "I don't want you to worry about this. It's alright. I'm the one that barged in and made you let me live there. So I'm going to pay for it."

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to feel guilty. "Are you sure you're even okay with a sleeper couch? We could just get you a mattress."

"Nah. This one is comfortable." He nods his head in the direction of the gray couch.

"So what you're saying is," You smile as wide as you can poking him. "Your butt was comfy on that couch!"

Ben rolls his eyes. "Come on let's go, before Jake comes back and tries to ask you out again."

"He was not trying to ask me out, he was just being friendly." You roll your eyes at him as you take a picture of the tag, trying not to let Ben get to you.

"I hate to break this to you Petals, but that's exactly what he was doing." He replies. "I told you that he wanted to fuck you." Ben almost sing-songs.

"No he wasn't." You stop for a minute, back straightening. "Wait. Is that why you interrupted him?" You turn around so that you're looking at Ben again. "Because you thought he was asking me out?"

Wait a minute, was he trying to get Jake to leave so he wouldn't ask me out. Is that why Ben hates him so much? Because he's jealous? There's no way-

"No." Ben says it immediately, jaw tightening.

"Holy Shit. You're jealous!" You cackle.

"No I'm not."

“Ben why are you jealous? We aren’t together. We aren’t having sex-“

“We could be! And I'm not jealous of that fucking dandy."

“I don’t understand why you’re so attached to the idea of us sleeping together.“

“And I don’t understand why you're pretending to be so against it.”

"I'm not pretending and I'm not going to get into this argument with you again." You say exaggerating your frown.

"Deny it all you want Petals, but I know your tell." His eyes flick to the scrunch between your eyebrows. "So grab your stupid plant and let's go." He turns and moves to follow the arrows on the ground out towards the exit.

"Ben I'm serious, why are you jealous?" You jog to catch up with him, the cart rolling smoothly against the concrete floors.

"I'm not and I'm done talking about this with you!"

"Uh-huh. Sure." You begin to prance behind the cart. "You're jealous! You loooovvveee meee." You tease him.

Ben whirls around so fast, bending down towards you so close you can feel his breath against your lips, the teasing mood in your veins quickly shifting to something else. You're suddenly thankful that you picked a plant that didn't have the possibility of producing flowers, because they would be in full bloom. The close proximity of Ben to you made it impossible to think, not when you were inhaling his hypnotic scent with every breath, and not when his lips were only inches from yours.

Ben's mouth pulls up in a smirk as his emerald gaze locks with yours. He's so close that you can see the soft cinnamon colored freckles flecked across his cheeks and see the circle of gold in his eyes that seems to make your knees weak.

"Love doesn't have anything to do with it, doesn't have anything to do with what I want to do to you." He breathes, his voice dropping into the deep rumble that makes everything else vanish away. "And I'm not jealous of him doll. Anything that he can do to you, I can do better, longer, and harder. You just say the word, and you won't even remember him, let alone remember your own name."

You can't find the words to reply, the memory of Ben kissing you is everywhere, crackling along your skin, thrumming in your veins, and buried in your bones.

"Now come on. I want to look at bookshelves." Ben pulls back with a wide smirk, hearing your heart beat begin to kick up.

"Wait what?" Your voice sounds small when you find it.

"Your stack of books is annoying me."

"What do you mean? You mean the stack of books in my bedroom that you're never supposed to set foot in is annoying you?"

"Mhmm."

"I am perfectly capable of buying my own bookshelf thank you."

"Then why haven't you?"

"Because I had more important things to do-"

Like paying for electricity and buying cat food.

"Uh-huh. Well I don't have anything to do because all my drinking buddies died forty fucking years ago."

"You're not serious. You're not going to buy me a bookshelf." You say in shock.

Why in the fuck does he care about that? It's my room, he doesn't have to do that.

"Yes I am. That stack of books is ridiculous and pointless."

"That could be the name of my autobiography." You roll your eyes. It was a joke that Annie and you often used when you hung out together. Because what was the point of life without a little bit of self-deprecating humor?

Ben stops walking and turns around to look at you. "You might be ridiculous Petals, but you're not pointless. Don't you ever say anything like that around me ever again." He looks almost angry at the thought.

You inhale a sharp breath surprised. "Ben I wasn't being serious it's just a joke. Annie and I-"

"I don't care." He's still frowning at you. "I don't want you to make that kind of joke around me okay?"

You can't respond to that, only nod.

I have no idea what is going on.

All day Ben had been surprising you, hell, when he moved in a few days ago he surprised you. He was acting like he actually gave a shit, not just that he wanted to sleep with you, but that he genuinely wanted to be apart of your life, almost like a friend. You knew that maybe it was ridiculous to think that, but something deep down made you think it was true. That Ben really was making an effort to be better around you. But you had no idea why.

"So I'm going to buy a bookshelf no matter what you say, and you can either tell me which one to get or I'm gonna get you the ugliest son of a bitch here." Ben says smiling. "What will it be?"

You stand there looking at him, still mildly surprised, until you point at a dark brown wooden bookshelf with glass doors.

"Good. Now let's get the fuck out of here, before I grow a pussy."

A/N: Life changing trip to IKEA, because why not? Again more fluff and domestic Ben, NOT ASHAMED. But I will say that there will be a buildup to more angst and drama in a few chapters that will move the story along. I promise I have a plan for this one. And that plan includes dark and angsty things because we all know I can't seem to escape that. 😭

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[hazbinwhoree]

Adam x f!reader

after a one night stand with Adam, around a month or two later she reveals she’s pregnant with his kid..

his reaction and maybe his life when the baby arrives him failing at changing a diaper

him falling asleep on the couch watching tv with his baby on his chest with a tiny spot of drool on his shirt 🥹

bonus

Lute holding the child and then the baby pukes on her

Father Adam

Adam and (Name) had been friends for a long time. Just friends. Until one drunken night, they can’t pretend anymore, and they hookup. The one night stand shakes their friendship, and they don’t talk nearly as much over the next two months.

That’s why Adam is so surprised when he opens his door to find (Name) in tears.

“(Name), what’s wrong?” “Can I come in? You should maybe sit down for this.”

Adam has absolutely no idea what (Name) is about to throw at him, letting her in and sitting next to her on his couch. (Name) pulls something out of her pocket and hands it to Adam. Adam felt the world stop. It was a pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test.

He’s silent for a long minute before shakily asking, “You’re sure it’s mine?”

(Name) hits his arm. “Yes, I’m sure, you’re the only guy I’ve fucked in like a year.”

Adam is silent again, before snapping out of his daze and taking (Name)’s hands into his. “I… I love you.” The tension that had been between them since the one night stand was finally put into words.

Tears poured down her face as she threw her arms around Adam’s neck. Adam pulled her into his lap and (Name) buries her face in his neck. “I love you too.”

The nine months flew by, Adam and (Name) learning to live as a couple before they had to learn how to live as parents.

Luckily, years of friendship made it easy, and their relationship had very few bumps.

Adam was fast asleep when he was abruptly awoken by (Name) shaking him, telling him when he woke in a small, scared voice, “My water broke and I’m having contractions.”

19 hours later, their son was born. Adam, the egotistical bitch he is, insisted on naming their son Adam as well. (Name) allowed it, and they celebrated the arrival of Adam Jr.

They took him home a day later, and Adam basically went through the five stages of grief. He loves his kid and he’s proud to be a father of a child he actually wanted, but he realizes he has no idea how to be a dad, and is now worried he’s going to fuck up his son.

(Name) assures him he won’t fuck up their child and Adam finds himself believing her.

The first night, Adam sleeps straight through the baby crying. The second night, the same thing happened. The third night, (Name) shook him awake and grumbled “Your turn.”

Adam drowsily made his way to the nursery, and crying baby at three in the morning was now his least favorite thing. He sighed, picking his son up out of his crib and carrying him with him to the kitchen.

He bounced and shushed baby Adam while he prepared a bottle of milk. Thank god it was simple enough, all he had to do was heat it up. When he was done and bringing the bottle to his son’s lips, he immediately stopped crying and Adam sighed in relief.

Adam never woke up from the baby crying, he slept like a rock, but (Name) would wake him up and they took turns with the night feedings.

Once Adam half woke up to see (Name) breastfeeding their son in bed next to him. “Me next,” he murmured, before promptly passing back out.

The one thing Adam couldn’t seem to get a handle on was changing diapers. His son had peed on him twice. And something about baby poop smelled especially bad, and he gagged everytime he had to change a poop diaper.

He was such a baby about it that (Name) did most of the diaper changes.

Three months in, and (Name) had two favorite memories.

The first one was when she’d come home from the store to find Adam asleep on the couch, baby Adam asleep on his chest. Despite being knocked out, Adam still had a secure grip on the baby. They were both drooling. Like father like son.

The second was when Lute was holding baby Adam and finally getting comfortable holding a baby when he suddenly threw up on her shirt.

Adam thought it was hilarious. Lute did not.

Adam isn’t the world’s greatest dad by any means, but he’s trying his best.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Whitebeard fucker here lol I’ve been summoned. Could you write something with a reader whose used to being the biggest guy around meeting whitebeard and going “ohhh” and wanting to climb that man like a tree? Any and all kinks are up to your choosing monsieur gator!! Also happy birthday man!

Edward “Whitebeard” Newgate x male reader

Headcanons

Bit my lip so fucking hard when I saw this request. Whitebeard enjoyers come assemble!

Thanks for the birthday wish :) I ended up getting a lot of comics and manga, so I’m very happy.

Reader possesses a devil fruit I made up I call the sun-sun Fruit. Hes also like 16 ft 9. Hes also at least 40+ years old. Old man yaoi.

You had known of Whitebeards existence ever since you started traveling the sea, who didn’t? The guy was a legend known as the strongest man alive, someone to avoid if you did the type of business you did.

You were a bit of an everything man. Information gathering, Intimidation, bodyguarding, assassin, anything that paid you a lot and you didn’t have to hurt the innocent, Youd do it.

The world government were cautious of you, but always let you get away with things others wouldn’t, as you also took jobs for them if need be. You played on every board, siding with pirates, with marines, with the poor, and with the rich. As long as they had good reason for asking for your help.

Your Sun-Sun fruit always helped with this as well, making you an extremely powerful fighter, possessing the ability to gather and store solar energy and light itself. After mastering it you could easily create explosions big enough to destroy islands, coat your body in solar energy, or coat your weapons, as well as many other things.

Your preferred weapon were spears, your most beloved weapon a naginata that had been gifted to you after a job well done, some celestial who fanboyed over pirates wanting to give you a big reward. The naginata was supposedly cursed, but you two got along a little too well most days.

All in all, you were well known in your own circles, but nowhere near as much as someone like Whitebeard.

That was also the reason you turned down your latest request to kill Whitebeard. You might have been strong, but you were never an idiot. You might have stood at almost 17 feet, towering over anyone you had ever met, but even you know Whitebeards crew was so loyal it was lethal.

The people giving you the request has been annoyed about you rejecting it, but they could do nothing to stop you as you left, on your way to the next island. There was never a destination in mind if you didn’t have a contract, so you just called it joy sailing.

It was mere coincidence that you found yourself sailing through Whitebeards territory. You had no need for a crew, as you had mastered the skill to create stand-ins with your sun-sun fruit, creating human shaped beings out of condensed solar energy.

The ship you traveled in wasn’t too big either, especially compared to the moby dick. But they had easily spotted you, and your “crew” had spotted them in return. For some reason the whitebeard crew were interested in you, though their interest made your heartrate skyrocket as the moby dick neared your own much smaller ship.

When it became clear they weren’t there to fight, you agreed to link up your ships, even if it was just because you knew they could end you before you would be able to run for it.

Stepping onto the ship, part of you was curious at their lack of reaction to your towering height, even as they had to turn their heads all the way back to look at you to ask questions about your “light crew”, or one of them demanding to know what your favorite food was, or where you got your naginata.

When you finally met Whitebeard though, it all made sense. The guy made even you feel small, even though he wasn’t towering over you the same way you were the rest of his crew. Maybe it was his presence, as he laughed and patted you on the back, greeting you by the nickname the masses called you.

But all you could think about was how seeing someone taller than you made you feel. Just feeling his large hand patting your shoulder, or seeing how he was still taller than you when you sat, was enough for you to think about booking it again.

You had no idea why, but for some reason you stuck around with the Whitebeard crew for a while. To the point where they started acting like you were part of the crew. Even when you tried to turn it down, they’d just give you a knowing look before ignoring your complaints.

In your opinion, you were too old to join someone’s crew, especially with you being known as a “backstabber”, as you never picked one specific side.

And yeah, you knew why you were sticking around for so long. It was all Whitebeard, and that weird, fluttering feeling he gave you, and the arousal he caused, but that was not as important…for the most part.

It was only after the crew had settled on the island to restock that you thought about leaving for real. One of your contacts had called you on your den den mushi, and told you about a very high paying job. You might have been so rich your descendents would live in luxury, but you could never get enough.

Unluckily for you, Whitebeard had overheard the call. He had looked sad about you wanting to leave, but had invited you to join him for a drink before you packed up and went on your way.

That’s how you found yourself sitting beside him in front of a bonfire, just the two of you, both of you decently buzzed and flushed. Your devil fruit power made you mostly immune to alcohol, the heat of the sun burning the alcohol away before it could work, but whatever stuff Whitebeard had on him seemed to have the right kick.

Later you would blame the alcohol for your reaction when Whitebeards hand settled on your lower back. You had abandoned your jacket a while ago, some of Whitebeards crew running off with it to use it for some drunk game they were playing.

Your devil fruit also worked best without too much clothes in the way, meaning Whitebeards hand was right on your back, and your thirsty self had arched into it with a soft groan, your head flopping to the side to rest against him.

Whitebeard had chuckled, but it wasn’t his usual loud guffaw, but something deeper and smoother, like melted dark chocolate or the best whiskey you had ever drank.

His hand had rubbed and massaged your back until you felt like putty, small sparks of light and solar energy flickering across your torso as your control slipped, Whitebeard huffing amusedly at the small jolts it sent through his arm.

You would blush in the future when thinking about it, denying it ever happened, before blaming the alcohol once more. But in that moment, it was impossible to not spill all the thoughts you had about him. How he made you feel so hot inside, how much you fantasied about him, his hands, his height, his cock.

Whitebeard had seemed almost charmed, and maybe he was. It wasn’t every day that someone his age and especially his size had someone fawning over them. Maybe that was why he pulled you into his lap, with your back resting against his chest, as his battle worn hands traveled across the front of your torso.

He murmured and purred into your ears as one of his large, calloused hands groped and pinched at one of your pecs, making you gasp and arch into the touch, legs jolting until his other hand came down to hold your thigh in place.

The praise falling from his lips had you feeling much drunker than you were, vision blurring for a second before you were able to focus again, your own hands grasping at his pantleg as you huffed out a breath.

The veins across your body lit up every now and then from the stored solar energy in your body flickering, causing Whitebeard to chuckle that deep chuckle once more, making some comment about that being a nice party trick.

You were about to snap back a rebuttal, something rude about his own devil fruit power, but before the words could even leave you, the hand gripping your thick slid under your waistband.

Embarrassment flooded your system as you keened, head falling back onto his chest as your hips jolted. And how crazy was that? He was so tall your head fall onto his chest, not his shoulder, not above his own head, his chest.

It had your throbbing even more, immediately coating his palm in a layer of precum, making Whitebeard tsk teasingly, before rubbing the palm against the head of your sensitive shaft, only making you drip even more.

What could you say. You were sensitive. Being your size made it pretty hard to find a partner who could keep up with you, or someone you wouldn’t hurt on accident. And as your fame grew, less and less individuals even wanted to give it a try.

That was why you were keening and whimpering in Whitebeards lap like some kind of virgin, at least that’s what you told yourself to keep your dignity.

It didn’t explain the way you jolted and spilled into his hand when Whitebeard grabbing your chin, turning your head so he could kiss you. Your eyes rolled back, and solar energy flashed across your body as you came, gasping into his mouth, your breath so hot It would have harmed anyone not as sturdy as Whitebeard.

With his lips still pressed against yours he mumbled praise, telling you stuff that had you melting even further into his embrace, hips still jolting and twitching into his hand like you didn’t want it to end.

As you rolled your hips you could feel his own erection, and you almost wanted to pass out from just how big he felt. You had never met anyone who was bigger than you in that way, yet here Whitebeard was, pretty much offering it to you on a silver platter.

The night was spent with Whitebeard wringing more than just a couple of orgasms out of you, at some point leaving you so overstimulated and pleasured that your body had phased out, turning into solar energy.

Whitebeard had cackled loudly at the sight, seeing how you were in so much pleasure you couldn’t even stay solid. When you finally came back to yourself, he placed a big kiss on your cheek and then your mouth, making some teasing comment about it all.

The next morning you couldn’t look his crew in the eye, the knowing looks boring into your large broad back, that for once was wearing a shirt, to cover most of the hickeys their captain had left on you.

And if you just so happened to turn down the job offer your informant gave you, and if you just so happened to attach your ship to their fleet, and you just so happened to start being referred to in the same parental way as Whitebeard, who would be the wiser.

You honestly had no idea how to react when Whitebeards, and you guessed now your, crew started referring to you with a fatherly title in the same way they called Whitebeard Pops. You hadn’t wanted to be open about your relationship with Whitebeard, but to the crew it was so damn obvious.

Even when you and Whitebeard became official, and maybe even married at some point, you still took jobs every now and then, never getting enough of the thrill of money. But it was a lot less, and you pretty much cut all contact with the world government.

Sure, that got you a bounty and a high reward, but you honestly couldn’t care. After all this time you realized, maybe a crew wasn’t so bad. It also helped to have a partner that made you feel safe and cared for, whilst also leaving you limping in the best possible way.

[analbedo]

📔 gross! ft step bro childe

here’s the prequel to so gross which i’ve been meaning to write (for like a year but who’s counting), hope you all enjoy mwah ♡

𐐪 warning: this fic contains dark content, please read my dark content disclaimer before continuing. minors dni.

🦢 cw: stepcest, somnophilia, noncon, creepy behavior, grossness, video taping, use of the word rape, cervix fucking

° 𐐪 ♡ 𐑂 nsfw below the cut ! 𐐪 ♡ 𐑂 °

childe had a problem. or, at least, what everyone else besides him would consider a problem. he considered it to be a harmless little quirk of his. after all, he’d rationalize, any guy in his position would do the same thing.

he genuinely found nothing wrong with him having a crush on— well, truthfully, an obsession with— his little sister. the fact that he’d steal your used panties from the laundry hamper to smell while he got himself off, pictures from all your social medias pulled up on his pc screen, didn’t ring any alarm bells.

really, how could he not feel the way he did for you? you were hot, but with an innocent aura around you. he’d bet money that you were a virgin, one of his most used fantasies being him taking it from you.

if there was anything that concerned him, it was that you’d catch on to his lecherous ways. childe already suspected you were suspicious of him— you always looked uneasy when he entered the room. it probably had to do with the fact he never wore underwear around the house, so his dick print was visible in his sweatpants, and he’d get half hard just looking at you. he had to admit, though, seeing the brief look of panic on your face when your eyes would flick to his bulge turned him on.

still, he couldn’t have you getting too suspicious. after all, it would ruin his little night escapades into your room. he couldn’t believe his luck when he found out how heavy of a sleeper you were— it made preying on you so much easier.

childe would sneak in at night to jerk off to you sleeping. the way you were so defenseless and unaware made it even hotter. during his earlier visits, he’d bring a pair of your panties to finish in, but, after seeing how you didn’t even stir when he missed one time and his semen landed on your thigh, he opted to just cum on your body instead.

it wasn’t enough to just do that, though. childe wanted to immortalize the moment. after all, you looked so cute with your face covered in his nut. he started video taping him finishing on your face, your thighs, your chest— anywhere he could, honestly. he had at least an hour of footage.

his perversion was escalating— it was only a matter of time before he actually got around to raping you.

it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, your parents would be away on a trip, leaving you and childe alone. he would’ve been stupid to not take the chance. all that day he was brimming with excitement, finally getting the chance to do what he should’ve done the day you met. he could’ve overpowered you at any time, but he opted to wait until you were asleep— he wanted to see the look on your face when you woke up with his dick inside of you.

when the hour finally arrived, he crept into your bedroom like he’d done many nights before. this time, instead of standing at the edge of your bed, he carefully crawled onto it, positioning himself between your legs.

you wore nothing but an oversized shirt and underwear to bed— his favorite. he gently lifted your shirt up to expose your panties, before gingerly placing his finger on your clothed clit. he rubbed in small circles, watching you as a soft moan slipped from your mouth. he could’ve came from just hearing it.

childe couldn’t take it anymore. he didn’t bother removing your panties, simply sliding the fabric to the side with one hand as he pulled out his cock with the other. clear strands of precum dripped from the head onto your bedsheets. he took a deep breath before lining himself up with your hole.

you woke up to a searing pain between your legs, only to find your step brother looming over you. it took a second for you to register what was going on, and the moment you did your stomach churned with disgust.

“get the fuck off me!” you scream, flailing on the bed, trying desperately to scramble away from him.

childe effortlessly grabs your wrists with one hand, the other on your hip.

“aw, you woke up. way to ruin the fun,” he says teasingly. “but,” he begins, before thrusting into you harshly, fully bottoming out. “you still feel so fucking good— even better than i imagined.“

you let out a grown of pain, his thick cock splitting you open while his tip pressed against your cervix.

“ow, fuck— get off me!” you scream, wriggling underneath his grasp. “you’re fucking sick— let me go— i’m telling mom and dad—“

“are you now?” childe says, slowly dragging his cock out of you. “guess i won’t be able to do this again, then, better make it count.”

before you can reply, he pounds into you again, the sharp ache of him ramming your cervix paralyzing you.

you laid still in shock and pain as he continued rutting into you, panting like a rabid dog.

“fuck— i can feel you getting wetter— feels fucking amazing, i knew you always wanted it,” childe moans.

you couldn’t help the way your body responded to his harsh thrusts, your walls automatically lubricating themselves more and more as each thrust had his cock stroking your g spot. //the pleasure wasn’t enough to mask the pain, and you found yourself softly sobbing.

“childe, please, stop it— why are you doing this?” you sniffle.

“i’m sorry, you’re just so pretty— fuck— i can’t help myself,” childe pants, his cock twitching inside you with every thrust. “you’re so fucking tight— you’re a virgin aren’t you?”

the question makes you sob even harder. you were a virgin, and planned on saving yourself for someone special. but here you were, underneath your step brother, getting pounded into like a fleshlight.

“fuck, you look so hot when you cry,” childe moans. the pain in your lower abdomen has gradually subsided, leaving only the euphoric sensation of his cock rubbing on your sweet spot, sending a warm tingling feeling throughout your body.

“can’t wait to breed this tight little pussy of yours— ah— it’s gonna feel so fucking amazing,” childe says through gritted teeth, his pace growing sloppy as he neared his orgasm.

his words snap you back to attention. “what the fuck— that’s fucking gross— please don’t, childe, pull out!” you begged, a hurricane of nausea in your stomach at the thought of his cum being inside you (which was ironic to him, since, at this point, it had been everywhere else on your body).

“sorry, i have to— you feel too good to pull out,” childe moans in reply, pausing between each thrust as his orgasm loomed closer and closer, the coil of pleasure on the verge of snapping.

“don’t,” you whisper softly, though you know it’s pointless.

“fuck- fuck- fuck,” childe hisses, thrusts punctuating each expletive before he stills deep inside you with a sigh of relief, pressing against your cervix. you feel his cock twitch as it pumps your home full with thick, warm liquid.

he slowly pulled out, pausing for a moment to watch his cum seep from your cunt.

“fuck, that was incredible,” he says, tugging the waistband of his pants back up. as he makes his way to your bedroom door, you hear him mumble to himself: “i have to do that again sometime.”