#the one song that made me finally give them a tag

[lynnieverse]

undertow // ripples

✰ third chapter!

✰ 2.7k words

✰ chapter song -> bubbly by colbie callait

✰ tags: morally grey, one-sided rivalry, mystery, mutual pining, tension, redemption

✰ a/n: Thanks for all the love so far! Enjoy!

Lennox was huddled over her desk, combing through all the notes and outlines from the site visit. She tugged on her hair in frustration, not because of the project—no, that was fine—but the man behind the project.

Rafe was…difficult, but she had to admit his ideas were good. He was serious about this, and that was something she hadn’t been prepared for. It was her first project, and she expected something much simpler. This was a lot more pressure. 

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Everything okay in here?” her dad asked, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Yeah, everything’s great, just working out some kinks for budgeting and stuff.” She leaned back in her chair, giving him her full attention. 

“You’re doing great, Len, I know you’ve got this.” 

“You haven’t even seen anything yet.”

“I don’t have to, I know you won’t let this family down.” He left her with that, not helping her anxiety at all. She let her eyes close and let out a deep breath. 

It was fine, everything was fine. 

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She met with Rafe the next day at the site, wanting to discuss and finalize the timeline for the project. 

That’s when shit hit the fan. 

“You are so fucking irritating! This is ridiculous Rafe!” Lennox snapped, waving her clipboard wildly. “You want this project done by next summer, but don’t have the basic infrastructure in place. The permits aren’t filed, the environmental reports are nonexistent, and the marina’s foundation isn’t even structurally sound!” 

Rafe leaned casually against the side of his Jeep, a smug smirk on his face that only pissed her off more. 

“That’s what you’re here for, Princess, to figure it all out. You’re the logistics person, right? So…logistically handle it.” He inflected his voice a bit at the end, trying to be cute. Instead it made her eye twitch. 

“Logistics don’t just magically solve themselves! There’s actual laws we have to follow! If we rush into this it’ll be over before it even begins!” Rafe pushed off the car and stepped closer, his voice sharpening. 

“It’s not rushing, Lennox, it’s moving efficiently. You’re just too scared to take a risk, like always.” His blue eyes blazed, daring her to challenge him. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“You know exactly what it means. You’ve always been a little rule follower, terrified to do anything except what Daddy tells you. Too scared then, too scared now.” He was taunting her, and she knew it, but damn it if it didn’t work. Lennox jabbed a finger into his chest, jaw clenching in anger. 

“You know nothing about me. It’s not fear, Rafe, it’s called being realistic. You’re so desperate to prove you can do something on your own that you’re blind to how much work this actually takes. I’ve got the degree, and I’ve got more experience than you!” His smirk dropped and the tension crackled between them. All that could be heard was their labored breaths as they glared at each other. 

The construction crew had stopped to watch them, but she didn’t care. She was too angry, too fired up at his little entitled attitude. 

“You don’t get it,” he said finally, tone laced with frustration. “This is my chance to prove I’m not just a screw up.” His face was scrunched up, like he was fighting to keep his emotions from showing.  

“And you think the way to do that is by cutting corners and taking the easy way? If this fails, Rafe, it’s not just your name on the line. My reputation is tied to this too.” His eyes narrowed. 

“So that’s what this is about? Your perfect princess reputation?” 

“No. It’s about doing things the right way. Don’t be like your dad, be someone better.” This made his jaw clench and he looked away, clearly not enjoying that comparison. 

“Fine. Do what you have to do.” He stepped out of her space, and hopped in his car, speeding away without another word. Lennox knew she’d won, but something didn’t sit right in her chest. 

There was that damn pity again. She probably shouldn’t have thrown his dad in his face, but knew she was right. Cutting corners and being an asshole was what got Ward killed in the first place, and if he wanted to separate himself from that he had to be different. She had to tell him that.

Still, she didn’t like the regret that echoed afterwards. 

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Topper broke into her room later that night to invite her to yet another party. 

“Topper! Door plus locked equals don’t come in!” He just shrugged and flopped beside her on her bed. 

“So you’re coming right?” he said, poking her shoulder relentlessly. 

“Where is it?” 

“Kelce’s hosting this time, and no Rafe I swear.” He made a large “X” on his chest, pleading at her with his eyes. She dropped her head to the bed and groaned. 

“Fine, I’ll go.” Topper whooped and ran away, shouting something about getting shitfaced. She shook her head at her little brother, but couldn’t blame him. She wanted to get shitfaced too, especially after the day she’d had.

She quickly got to work on her makeup, hair, and outfit, opting for some cutoff shorts and a blue tank top this time. Strapping on her sandals, she grabbed her phone and skipped downstairs. Her parents were both at work, but she wrote a note anyway, just in case they ended up crashing there. 

Topper joined her a minute later, ushering her to the car so they could get going. 

“Come on! We’re already late.” Lennox rolled her eyes but listened, turning up the air conditioning and leaning her head back. When they arrived at Kelce's house, the party was in full swing. Lights were flickering, music was thumping, and there were so many people they spilled out onto the lawn. 

Lennox followed Topper up the driveway, her pulse racing in excitement. She loved parties once she got to them, convincing her to go was the hard part. As she stepped in the door she felt the energy pulsating around her. The faint smell of beer and sweat clogged up the dance floor. She needed a drink. 

“Come on Len, loosen up!” Topper called over his shoulder, already weaving through the crowd towards the makeshift bar in the kitchen. Lennox opted to hang back, letting her eyes drift over the crowd of familiar faces. Kelce spotted her from across the room, sauntering over with a solo cup in his hand. 

“Lennox Thornton,” he drawled with a grin. “Long time no see! Topper drag you out?” She smiled politely and chuckled a bit. 

“Yeah, but I like a good party every now and again.”

“Well, welcome back to Figure Eight chaos; grab a drink, make yourself at home.” 

“Thanks, I might,” she nodded once as he disappeared back into the crowd. She found herself drifting around from group to group, joking around with people she hadn’t seen in years. She ended up with a drink in her hand from Topper’s friend Grace, a nice looking girl with red hair and glasses. 

She felt the rush of being a Thornton for the first time in a long time—the status, the stares…it was intoxicating, but also exhausting. Eventually she did end up alone, silently nursing her fourth, or maybe it was fifth, drink. She let the music and chatter wash over her, completely embracing the buzz. 

Topper had disappeared once again, no doubt in the middle of some drinking game she didn’t understand, but she didn’t mind. One thing she learned being away at college was how to be content on the sidelines, and making your own fun. She stumbled into the kitchen, and braced against the counter. Maybe she could just chill there a minute. 

As she was idly scrolling on her phone, she felt a presence behind her. 

“Lost in thought or just bored out of your mind?” a smooth voice broke through the noise. She glanced up, startled, and found herself face-to-face with someone she didn’t recognize. He was tall, with sun-streaked blonde hair and a charming, easygoing grin. His basic outfit gave away his Kook-status, but he seemed to lack the pretentiousness she usually felt from them. 

“Maybe both,” she raised an eyebrow. “You know how it is.” He chuckled and leaned against the counter next to her. 

“Yeah, I do. All these parties are the same…can get brain numbing after a while.”

“Exactly,” she laughed. “And you are?”

“Elliot,” he said, offering his hand. “And you’re Topper’s sister, right? Lennox?”

“Guilty,” she smiled, shaking his hand. “I take it, you know my brother?” 

“Everyone here knows Top,” he gestured to the crowd. “Hard to miss the guy yelling about tequila shots at two in the morning.” She snorted. 

“Yeah, sounds about right.”

“What brings you out tonight? I haven’t seen you around much.” 

“I just moved back home from New York; I graduated college this past semester.”

“Oh nice! I go to Charleston—senior—and I’m home for the summer.”

“Do you like it there?” 

“Yeah, it’s great. No girls as pretty as you, though,” he nudged her with his elbow. Lennox felt a small flush rise to her cheeks and broke eye contact, taking a sip of her drink. 

“I’m sure,” she managed.

“It’s true, plus you’re the most entertaining thing at this party.” 

“Oh so that’s what this is? Entertainment?” she teased. 

“Not just entertainment,” he leaned closer, “I’d like to think I’m better company than the guy currently puking in the bushes.” Lennox laughed, the sound catching her off guard. 

“I’ll give you that,” she raised her cup at him.

“See? I’m already winning,” Elliot said, his grin widening. 

They settled into an easy conversation, the awkwardness of being strangers quickly fading. He had a natural charm that didn’t feel forced, and she found herself genuinely enjoying his company. They talked about the weirdness of coming back home, her family business, and even little things like surfing. 

As the night wore on she never left Elliot’s side, not even when some girls came over to recruit her for karaoke. She hadn’t felt this relaxed in weeks, and the way he looked at her—like she was the only person in the room—was impossible to ignore. 

“You know,” his voice dropped low, like it was some sort of secret. “I’m really glad I came tonight.” His face was hovering close to hers, and she felt his breath fan against her cheek. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, reaching up to tuck a flyaway hair behind her ear. 

“Careful, Elliot, you’re starting to sound like a flirt.”

“Starting to?” he joked. “I must be doing something wrong if you’re just now noticing.” She laughed slightly, eyes dropping to his lips. There was something disarming about him, a quiet confidence. She felt the tension melt off her shoulders the longer she spoke to him. 

Their faces inched closer and closer until their noses were touching. Lennox decided to mess with him a little, pulling back and looking him in the eye.

“Hi,” she smiled sweetly. He snickered, shaking his head. 

“Tease.” She smiled and bit her lip, waiting for his next move while playing with the bottom of his shirt.  

“Hey, you want to get out of here? Maybe take a walk?” She raised her eyebrows in surprise, definitely not expecting that. 

“You’re asking me to leave a party with you after knowing me for all of…what? An hour?”

“Technically, it’s been two,” he said, checking an imaginary watch. Lennox rolled her eyes playfully. “And yeah, I am. Unless you’re down to hear Kelce butcher another Taylor Swift song.” She glanced towards the living room, where a bunch of boys were already screeching into a microphone. 

“You know what? Why not? Lead the way.” 

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He led her outside, the cool night air hitting her skin immediately. The noise from the party faded behind them as they strolled down the private dock Elliot found in the back. The moon reflected off the water, and the gentle sound of waves lapping against the wooden posts made the night feel quieter. 

“Better?” Elliot asked her. 

“Much. I needed a breather.” 

“Me too,” he leaned against the railing of the dock, looking out over the water. “Figure Eight is great, but it always feels like everyone’s trying too hard to prove something, you know?” Lennox nodded, moving to stand beside him. Her elbows rested against the wooden railing, wind blowing her hair out of her face.

“I know exactly what you mean.”

Elliot turned his head, studying her. “You don’t seem like that though, you’re different.” 

Lennox chuckled softly, gazing at the dark water below. “Different how?” 

“I don’t know…you just seem indifferent to it all–the image, the competition. You’re just you, unapologetically.” Lennox looked at him curiously, feeling as if he was picking apart her soul. 

“That’s one way to put it.” 

“Am I wrong?” he pressed, catching her eye and making her smile.

“No, not exactly,” she admitted. “I just don’t see the point, you know? The fake smiles and blanket of superiority some of these people wear…it’s not real. None of it is.” Elliot was completely focused on her, looking deep in thought. “Outside of this place, nobody cares. You’re just like everyone else. I think that’s what I liked about the city, the anonymity.” She pursed her lips, shrugging her shoulders. 

“It’s like a game, and if you don’t play you’re invisible,” Elliot murmured, a far-away look in his eyes. 

“Maybe being invisible wouldn’t be the worst thing,” she mused. 

He turned to face her fully, resting his side against the railing. “Not for someone like you. People notice you even if you aren’t trying.”

She raised her eyebrows, a small smile dancing on her lips. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” 

“I guess so, but don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” she teased, nudging him slightly with her shoulder. For a moment they stood in companionable silence, just listening to the sounds of nature around them. 

Lennox shivered, and Elliot immediately shed his button down, leaving him in a tight white t-shirt. He turned Lennox to face him, wrapped the shirt around her, and put her arms through the sleeves. Lennox blushed, watching him with wonder. He smiled at her, gripping the fabric, and using it to pull her into him. 

“Hi,” he teased, the corner of his mouth curling up. 

“Hi,” she smiled. Then he kissed her. 

Their lips met gently, as if they were asking each other’s permission. Lennox’s hand travelled to his neck, playing with the ends of his hair as she deepened the kiss. Both Elliot’s hands were on her cheeks, thumbs moving back and forth slowly. 

She moaned as he bit her lip, earning her a groan from him. Eventually they broke apart, breathless. 

“Wow,” he said, staring down at her in awe. She laughed, looking down, unsure of how to respond. It was a good kiss, not Earth-shattering, but very good. Her phone lit up before she could. 

“It’s my brother,” she said, unlocking it immediately. “He says he’s ready to go and the Uber’s almost here.” She found herself disappointed, not wanting the night to end just yet. 

“Well, we better get you back then.” Elliot offered his hand and she took it, letting them swing back and forth as they made their way back down the dock. 

As they approached the house, Elliot stopped. 

“So, any chance I could take you out to dinner sometime?” She hesitated, but pulled her phone out of her pocket, opening up a new contact. 

“Here, put your number in.” Elliot chuckled, typing in his information and sending himself a text before handing it back. 

“Done. I’m holding you to that dinner, Thornton.”

“Good luck, I’m not an easy person to keep up with,” she smiled. 

“Me neither,” he shot back. She left him standing there, hands in his pockets with a dopey look on his face. 

Topper met her outside, slightly swaying, but overall not too bad. 

“Have fun, Top?” she laughed. 

“Oh yeah, Len, great. You?” 

“It was alright,” she smiled, keeping Elliot to herself.

[stingslikeabee]

You be the Beast and I'll be the Beauty, beauty Who needs true love as long as you love me truly I want it all, but I want you more Will you wake me up boy if I bite your poison apple

@finalslay

[gibbearish]

am finally back home and can say without a doubt that i am just fundamentally not built for long distance travel however the train was much nicer than planes

[sleep-0-deprived]

Before I start, I just wanna say I love your work, keep it up!!

A bit of a feminine m!reader and a stalker, kind of like the song stalker’s tango by autoheart (praise kink and anything you wanna add)

Love me love me love me~! (Stalker Oc x feminine male reader) ໒꒰ྀི˶˃ᆺ˂˶ ꒱ྀིა

WC:. 1.5k

Tags: praise kink, back shots, creepy character, dub con (reader doesn’t say but he wants it), stalking, spit as lube, men in panties, college AU, p in a sex, bad prepping(basically no prep cause he wants reader to feel em), slight Yandere themes?, coming inside panties, lil come play<33

A/N thanks for the request! I didn’t know your kinks so I tried to keep it pretty vanil for the fic but I just get the vibe that the stalker is a lil bit of a yandere ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

College was the time you were supposed to be the most happiest. freedom, no parents breathing down your neck and looking at you wearing your new skirts and finally away from Him…anyway this is the beginning of something new and that made you terrified excited.

Here you were grabbing boxes from the back of a hand me down car you bought last year, your hands full walking around campus searching for your dorm room. The sound of other college students bustling past even a frat boy running through the corridor laughing while another man smacks his shoulder.

Your heels clicking on the floors getting into the elevator finally out of view of the other students, not caring if they stared at you when you walked past them in your little skirt.

Finally finding your door room, room 234 in the third wing on campus. Pulling the door open and then it happens, the boxes nearly dropping from your hand “Jasper?..” the man that single handedly ruined your teen years, the man you filed a restraining order against- the one that stalked you since middle school, putting cameras inside your shower, under your bed.

There he stood in all his glory, black hair all messy with his green eyes piercing you over like an interested cat, a crooked grin on his lips looking at you like some god before him. You quickly sit your boxes down on the twin bed to the left of the room with your hands now by your side looking at him.

“Did you miss me any [name]? I really missed you, so goddamn much” he walks over to you leaning down and shoving his face into your neck breathing in your scent without a care in the world “how’d you find me Jasper…my parents made sure you didn’t know the colleges I applied for” your lips pressed into a thin line standing stiff and finding no comfort in the man’s touch.

“I total you I’d never leave you baby? Can’t live without you [name] I wouldn’t wanna” he kisses his way down grabbing at the hem of your shirt slipping under it and massaging his palms into your sides.

“Y’know I don’t want you Jasper, I never have so just stop” you mutter out all squeaky trying to get away even if your body knew you wanted it, even if you couldn’t deny you found him hot you’d never admit it so you did the next best thing and tried to push away but only failing in return.

“Don’t lie to me baby, you’re already getting hard so hard in that little skirt, it’s like you’re asking for me to fuck you?” His lips muffle themselves against your skin starting to suck it red while holding you pined between him and the wall while his second hand makes its way down to your mini skirt starting to lift it.

“Dammit Jasper… stop that” you speak out because you’re in to deep to say otherwise feeling your cock bulging in the pink panties you were wearing. You had no stockings under your skirt letting your bulge get exposed while you go red in the face feeling jaspers hand snaking down giving it a rough squeeze before pulling his lips off your neck breathing heavy in your ear.

“Just be a good boy and bend over for me sweetheart” you don’t know why but you walked over to your twin size bed, not even getting on it just bending over on the side of it and shoving your face into the sheets standing in a pair of heels spreading your thighs.

“Mh, baby so fucking beautiful, no idea how long I’ve been imagining this” he lifts your skirt in the back showing off the cotton fabric with little bows riding up between your cheeks making him smile reading his hands down and grabbing your cheeks spreading them and watching how your rim puckers up against the panties.

His thumb rubbing down your crack spitting on your panties and using his thumb to rub the now translucent fabric against your bud making sure to get it nice and wet while you lay with your cock weeping against the mattress feeling your knees buckle from the feeling.

“O-h you’re a pervert Jasper!” You yelp out and try to yell at him but fail when he reaches his hand off your ass cheek and grabs the back of your neck shoving it into the bed making your voice get muffled, “such a cruel accusation [name] I’m not perverse, I just love you baby?”

He’d coo to you from behind while the hand messing and teasing with your rim finally pulls your panties to the side of your ass just admiring how you’d clench around the air so effortlessly, your rim half prepped from all those nights you’d whine and finger yourself in your bed. Which of course he knew about back then, he had cameras?

“Want me to fuck it?” He’d ask you softly even though you knew he was going to fuck you either way “y-eah” you nod into the pillows gasping when he lets go of the back of your neck to undo his jeans making sure your skirt was pushed upwards on your waist, “you should really get a tramp stamp sweetheart, get me something all pretty to aim at when I’m coming all over that pretty arch”

Your face went red as a beat becoming more thankful he was behind you so he couldn’t see your reaction but he already knew it when your rim winked at him again trying to swallow his finger tip like quicksand having him all giddy and infatuated with you. Jasper having been waiting years to get his cock nuzzled between those perky little cheeks.

“So warm sweetie, just gonna fuck you so nice baby” his voice comes out rigid pulling his boxers down letting his manhood spring free finally standing tall against his t shirt before he presses his dick between your cheeks and uses his hands to grip both cheeks sandwiching his cock between them as he rocks his hips spitting down on your ass again using it as lube fucking between your cheeks having your face down and your ankles bending out in your heels.

“Just push in already Jasper, don’t fuckin tease me~” you moan reaching your hand down to your panties starting to palm yourself through the panties feeling yourself soaking the Cotten closing your eyes just feeling what’s happening to your body having you melting like ice cream during summer.

“Always a greedy boy weren’t you?…well doesn’t matter, still love you” he speaks nudging his pudgy cock head against your rim spreading the muscle open wide making him hiss “fuck that’s it sweetie” he tilts his head back rubbing your ass cheeks softly trying to get you to loosen up around him having him on cloud nine scrunching his nose up bottoming out inside you ready to come on the spot.

“Jas— oh’m g-od” you croak and choke on your words going loose and fuzzy in the head just laying with your ankle wobbling to stay bent in your heels just screwing your eyes shut only opening them with he gives your ass cheek a little smack letting you adjust to his girth. Jasper bucks his hips forward making your face droop back down as his hips squish your plump skin.

Your hands going limp like jello under you unable to palm your neglected cock, just laying with your body limp letting him have his way with you praying to whatever was up in the sky that other students didn’t hear Jasper giving you back-shots on your first day at campus. “You have no idea h’many nights I imagined getting myself inside your pretty body, mmh you’re worth the wait sweetheart”

You feel your rim on fire when his base stretches you wider making your back arch trying to take him, your cock jumps in your panties at his dirty praises having you in hysterics hating the man but also just wanting him to hold you close and fuck you like you deserve, you’d never tell him though. “You can start movin-!” You cry out arching under him gripping the bedsheets tight.

“Shh stay quite sweetheart, stay nice and sweet for me [name]” Jasper speaks softly moaning under his breath bucking his hips feeling a hot flash in his abdomen trying not to come before you but goddamn you were like heaven around him, you were his addiction, his ambrosia and he couldn’t get enough.

The sound of flesh in flesh filling up the dorm, his hands gliding over your body gripping the skin like a feral dog fucking you from behind having you reaching for the wall while the bed creaks shaking back and forth while your eyes open back up going wide and dumb when his cock assaults York inner walls hitting your sweet spot having you loosening up not clenching his cock so tight, jaspers hands pulling in your panties from behind making them tighter in the front, making your cock pulse against the firm fabric

“Please Jas, please just—“ you beg, you break you fold flush like a bad poker game not even knowing what you were pleading for just knowing you needed to come so bad your balls were swelling up going red in your panties about to explode when his cock halts pushing further and further against your prostate like a rubber band being stretched and pressed further and further about to snap.

“Please what sweetheart? Tell me what you want, promise I’ll give it to you” he speaks to you like a doll in complete opposites to how he was fucking you, his hands reaching letting go of your panties making you squeal from the release of pressure, he keeps fucking you thrusting and pumping his hips pressing his pubes to York lower back reaching up under you to your stomach to hold you up.

Holding you up half off the bed fucking you harder with your face still in the sheets and your hips raised high for him mewling feeling your favorite skirt go higher up on you. “Please make me cum, please get me off Jasper” you whine and you spasm around his dick. Your rim trying to take more until his balls press against yours, running together when he fucks into you.

“Come for me baby, just let go, lemme make it all better for you doll” his pace picks up fucking you like some jack rabbit in heat. His hands tugging at your belly leaning forwards leaning back down laying on top of you bent over the bed heaving in your ear kissing the red marks he made on your neck snaking one hand down inside your panties tugging on your cock.

“S’ happening jas, gonna come” you can’t help but to shiver and let go of the bedsheets arching your back against his stomach crying out wailing all cock drunk slurring your words while your cock pulses in his hand coming all inside your panties only further soiling them when the thick ropes leave your red cock head feeling like a release through your whole body having your balls relax a little once they’re fully emptied.

“There’s my good boy, I knew you were a sweetheart, just needed a little pounding to bring it out” Jasper kisses your neck sucking on the red marks using his canines to pinch the skin letting go York your cock and slamming into you harder becoming less in rhythm and more desperate to get off.

You can feel his balls drawling up when they press against your ass, his veins rubbing more prominent against your inner walls having you biting your bottom lip with your toes curling in your heels while he thrusts one more time inside you piling out with a loud gasp “o-h fuck [name] feel what you do to me?” He asks shuddering behind you fucking between your spit slick ass cheeks letting his cock nudge your rim but never actually pushing in.

The next thing you know hot ropes of cum pump out spewing all over your hole getting between your cheeks feeling the hot liquid running down your arch getting on your back and your skirt practically coating you like he meant it. “Thought you were pretty before but admit seeing you covered in my cum makes you even prettier”

He lifts his head from your neck whispering the words out to you before slipping his hands from under you and massaging the cum all over your body rubbing your cheeks down with it slipping two slickened fingers inside you again playing with you before pulling out.

“Let me have a date baby, I promise I can treat you so good, I’ll be so sweet to you I’ll be s’much better than your ex was” he whispers to you cooing like a snake in the garden of Eden ready to tempt you into his sinful world. “You’re fucking crazy Jasper” you huff lifting your head laying now lifting yourself up on your elbows with your body aching from the rough fucking you just took, his hand marks and imprints leaving your skin swollen.

“I’m only crazy for you, you’re the only man that makes me feel it…only wanna kiss N’ love, only wanna come on you sweetie”

[hurlingdown]

Ima eat you and your writing it’s so good can I please get a whiny sub Luffy x domtop male reader who’s like kinda tall I’m talking a tad bit shorter then brook type tall you can ignore if this is too specific 👍 love your work

EAT YOU UP — TOP MALE READER X MONKEY D. LUFFY

synopsis. luffy loved to sleep in your lap. it was warm, comfortable, and a big enough seat for him to nestle into. it didn't particularly bother you, and even if it did, you wouldn't be able to say no to your adorable captain anyway. just like you hadn't been able to say no to him when his ulterior motives re-surfaced. wc. 1.6k

tags. whiny! sub! luffy, dom! reader. size difference, reader's got a big cock, anal sex, virginity loss, cum eating, tongue-fucking, blowjob, he has no gag reflex, luffy being luffy, bit fluffy ngl

Luffy revelled in your size difference. 

The way you towered over him, your large hands being able to completely encircle his waist. Not to mention, you made such a good makeshift bed that he just couldn’t help but snuggle into your lap most afternoons, just to take a fat nap. 

You never really minded, as it didn’t interfere with your routine. Plus, having a lap warmer with you anywhere you went was undeniably a huge bonus. 

Today was one of those afternoons. 

Luffy hummed a song, squirming on your lap to find a comfortable position for his nap. You didn’t think much of it at first, until he started shifting about, his back pressed against your chest to directly sit on your cock. 

You froze, feeling the heat rush to your face, and somewhere else—it didn’t help that the rubber captain never kept still. Still, you couldn’t find it in you to push him off, as he had looked up at you with an adorably blinding grin, his gummy smile having wormed its way into your heart long ago. 

“Luffy,” you began awkwardly. 

“You’re hard today.” 

You spluttered. “I’m what today?” 

He turned around in your lap to blink innocently at you. “You’re harder than usual today, y/n!” 

“Oh. Haha… I am, aren’t I?” You let out a breath of relief. It hadn’t occurred to you that Luffy quite possibly didn’t know about that sort of stuff; or perhaps wasn’t interested in all, seeing as he never bat an eye to the beautiful, well-endowed Boa Hancock who practically threw herself at him at every chance. 

You were absorbed in your thoughts until you felt a hand palm your hard cock roughly. 

“Luffy!” Your hips bucked upwards, nearly throwing him off your lap. “What was that for—” 

“So yours does the same thing, too. Shishi, I thought my dick was broken when I touched it and it turned hard!” 

Oh. So he had touched himself before. Guess you could save yourself from having to give ‘the talk’ to an absolute airhead. 

“Wow,” Luffy continued to squeeze and fondle your cock through the thin layer of your pants, making you bite your lip to suppress a groan. “You’re pretty big!” 

“Captain,” you snapped, finally, glaring at him as he pouted. “This isn’t appropriate.” 

“But why not?” he protested, still not releasing his death-grip on your cock. 

“This—we—aren’t in that sort of relationship.” 

Luffy simply frowned. “Do we have to be in a relationship to touch each other’s dicks?” 

“Well, no, but—” 

“Good!” 

Before he went back to straight-up kneading your poor cock, you grabbed his wrists and bound them behind his back with one hand. 

“But why?” he whined loudly, bottom lip jutting out as he stared up at you. “I want to! You gotta let me! I’m the captain!” 

You sighed. “You may be my captain, but that doesn’t mean you get to take advantage of your superiority to sexually harass me whenever you want.” 

“I’m not sensually harassing you, or whatever that is!” 

“It’s ‘sexually harass’, not sensually harass. And—why do you even want to do this in the first place? You’ve never acted like this before when you napped on me before.” 

“I just suddenly want to! What’s the matter with that?!” Luffy looked petulant, almost angry as he couldn’t get what he wanted, and he retracted one of his legs hooked around your waist to tramp on your cock. 

You let out a guttural moan at that, and Luffy’s eyes had widened visibly, as though he wanted to hear more. 

“Hey, y/n? My dick’s hard.” 

“Is this what you wanted, baby?” 

Luffy’s knees were pressed into the mattress above his shoulders, making good use of his stretchiness as he shudders and whines a response beneath you. His hole is stretched perfectly around your cock, warm and wet and tight, taking you to the brim so well. 

“Y-yeah, puh—please!” he wailed desperately, raking his nails on your back as you angled your hips, thrusting up into his sweet spot. “So—so big—ah!” 

“There it is.” You grinned, hands fully wrapping around his waist to tug him back onto your cock like a ragdoll, perfectly nailing his prostate again. “Think we found it, mm?” 

Luffy nodded his head weakly, trembling all over as you railed him into the mattress with each heavy thrust, before dragging him back. “Feels really g-good! Right—right there!” 

“Here, captain?” You purposefully missed, tip of your cock barely grazing it, and he whined shamelessly. 

“No! Not there!” he moaned, shaking his head in frustration as he looked at you with pleading eyes. “Y/n, I need it s-so bad!” 

You would have never thought that Luffy was capable of such dirty talking. But right now—with your captain willingly spreading his legs for you, hole stretched wide open and insides rearranging themselves to fit your huge cock, you couldn’t even process it except for how good it felt. 

“And what’s the magic word, love?” 

“M-magic word?” He blinks at you confusedly. “I don’t know any—any magic word! I’m not—a magician, ah, silly!” 

Warmth curled in your chest at how utterly ridiculous Luffy was, and you gave a little laugh, before leaning down to kiss him. Luffy kissed you back with eagerness, biting and sucking impatiently at your lower lip. As you fucked your tongue into that pliant little mouth of his, mirroring your cock’s every thrust, he had sucked on it and moaned around it, drool spilling down the sides of his mouth as though it felt heavenly for him. 

“So full…” Luffy whimpered around your tongue, eyes rolling back in ecstasy—and you couldn’t pinpoint which hole he was referring to. 

You reeled back after a long kiss, going back to pounding into him as he whined for “harder”, for “more”, and “wanting to eat the funny liquid that comes out of your cock”. 

Your breath hitched in surprise as you realised what Luffy meant. “Want me to cum down your throat, baby? That what you want?” You could feel yourself getting closer and closer, his warm, spongy walls pulsating around you every time you pulled back, as though wanting to keep you inside forever. 

“Yes, yes—wanna, wanna know what you taste like, y/n!” he babbled mindlessly, clinging on to your shoulders as you flattened the head of your cock against his prostate, grinding hard and deliberately. “Ugh, ugh—it feels weird—” 

“Yeah? You gonna come for me, sweetheart? Fucking do it—cum on my cock, captain.” 

With the mention of his title, Luffy’s eyes squeezed shut before his head lolled back with a loud, drawn-out moan, body jerking violently and cock spurting all over his chest and abdomen. His hole clenched around you as tight as sin, and you had to hold back with all your willpower to not come on the spot. 

Luffy panted, still twitching beneath you as he raised one shaky finger, bringing it up to his face to point into his open mouth. Asking silently. 

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, but once you got the green light, you rammed back into his twitching hole, no longer prioritising his pleasure over yours, only able to process how divine it felt to be making love to your captain. As you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm, you pulled out of his hole all of a sudden and plunged your cock into his ready, parted mouth, cumming so hard down his throat you felt yourself ascend. 

Luffy’s lips wrapped around the base of your cock, sucking hard and milking you throughout your orgasm. You groaned, low and deep, thrusting messily into tight wet heat as cum steadily dribbled down a vacuum, as though insatiable. 

You released your hold on his hair as you felt yourself go soft, staring incredulously down at a red-faced Luffy who was sucking at you as if he was trying to swallow your entire cock. 

“Luff,” you huffed, gently wiping away a line of his own cum that had somehow splattered on his collarbones. “That’s enough.” 

It was then that he finally pulled back, frantically sucking air through his mouth. “I—I couldn’t taste it,” he whined, the corners of his lips turning down unhappily. “Your cum, or whatever. I couldn’t taste it and it went down my throat!” 

Oh. Oh. 

You suppressed a laugh—because that was what he was being prissy about. Caressing his face affectionately, you went to lay down beside him. “I’m sorry. Next time I’ll just put the tip inside.” 

“It’s fine. I felt full enough.” 

Luffy had to stop dropping these one-liners that made you gape. 

“What? Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” He looked at you, frowning with confusion. “Y’know, this almost made me as full as the banquet-thingy Sanji put together last week. There was so much yummy food! Your dick was really good, too, though—so don’t get jealous.” 

You really had to get used to the way Luffy talked—because he talked way too much and it drove you absolutely crazy. In an almost ‘too good’ way. This had to stop. 

“Luffy.” You pulled him into your arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he giggled happily. “Stop talking.”  masterlist! # luffy is such a fun character to write lol

[brenwritesss]

Talent

Paige Bueckers x reader

Summary: You're a singer and join KK and Paige's live for their talent show.

“Ain’t no way,” KK’s eyes widened on the screen as she started scrolling through the amount of people that wanted to be a guest on her live. “Say psych right now.”

Paige, who had been sitting next to her, partly in frame and partly not, leaned forward. “What?”

KK whipped her head towards her, “Y/n L/n's in here Paige.”

“You lyin,” Paige whispered, hand over her mouth as she put her face close to the camera trying to see your account in the live. Paige had the biggest celebrity crush on you for the longest time and everyone found out when she made a joke about treating you right when you broke up with your ex girlfriend a couple months ago. Since then, Paige’s comments were always filled with fans tagging you and yet still, you had never liked one of her videos or followed her.

“Hey girl, I see you in here. I’m tryna guest you right now,” KK said, her body starting to shake slightly as she pressed on your profile and accepted your guest request. Paige’s face went red as she realized it was actually your account. The account she stalked so many times.

Within seconds, your profile picture popped up in the live. “Hey y’all. Wait, hold on, I'm tryna turn on the camera.” A second later, your face flashed on the screen and KK started freaking out, grabbing Paige’s arm.

“Y’ALL Y/N L/N IN MY LIVE RIGHT NOW SOMEONE SCREEN RECORD,” KK yelled, earning a laugh from you. 

“Hi KK.” You waved at her.

KK jumped up and down. “SHE KNOWS MY NAME.”

You laughed again and saw Paige leaning back on the couch, a hand over her mouth and just staring at you. “Paige I see you.”

Paige leaned forward. “Hey.” Her voice cracked and her face grew more red. You raised your eyebrows at her and the chat started going crazy.

User1: paige finally meeting her crush

User2: paige this yo chance

User3: use them rizz hands paige

“So boom,” KK said, sitting back down. “You got a talent?”

You raised your eyebrows again, shifting the camera as you lied down on your bed. “Other than making Paige flustered? Yeah I got some talents.”

KK let out the loudest laugh and Paige hid herself from the camera.

User1: Y/n knows about Paige’s crush on her y’all

“No Paige come back, my bad, I didn’t mean to embarrass you like that.” You apologized and waited to see her face on screen again. You couldn’t lie, she was gorgeous. And you were fangirling a little.

“I ain’t embarrassed,” she replied. She was freaking out internally right now.

“Yeah?” you ask, smiling at her. “Heard you said you could treat me right.”

“OH,” Paige shouted, blushing like crazy.

“Damn Paige you’re cooked.” KK sat, looking in between the two of you to watch this interaction.

User5: shoot your shot rn

“Yeah I said that,” Paige winked at you, finally gaining some confidence after freaking out.

“I always had a thing for blonde hoopers so I’m down,” you said winking back. Paige started smiling and laughing. KK hyping her up.

“Blonde hoopers because of me right?”

“Oh yeah for sure,” you joked. 

“Ight, I’ma dm you later and we gonna make this happen.”

“Okok,” you nodded and she began to do her infamous rizz hands.

“Yo, write a song about me.”

This caught you off guard causing you to widen your eyes. “Give me something to write about then.”

User1: NOT THEM MAD FLIRTING W EACH OTHER RN

User2: They gonna date, just watch

KK sighed. “Paige stop hogging her bro. This is a talent show, not a flirting match.”

Paige put up her hands in defense. “Ok fine, Y/n I’ll text you later, don’t you worry.”

“Sounds good.”

“WHAT’S YOUR TALENT?” KK screamed into the mic.

You proceeded to sing to KK as your talent on the live, her using Paige’s phone to film you and dance to your singing. After you were done, the three of you talked some more and then you said bye to the live, hopping off. 

About five minutes later, you get an instagram notification:

paigebueckers sent you a message.

[smutoperator]

https://x.com/viraltakes/status/1869332739666952488?t=Zfac8LL4WQ7MI68zQpfQGQ&s=19

PLAP PLAP!PLAP!

Get pregnant!

PLAP PLAP!PLAP!

Get pregnant!

Motherhood Dreams

Jeon Soyeon x Male Reader

Tags: apartment sex, belly bulging, feet play, floor sex, horny girl, impregnation, mating press, ovulation, prone bone, public nudity, riding, rough sex, sex with a stranger, (lots of) sloppy blowjobs, submissive and clingy, tiny and pretty girl

Word count: 3562

Alone in her apartment, Soyeon felt like this was the day she needed to fulfill her dreams of becoming a mother. She couldn't wait anymore, feeling her body aching as her sex drive only increased while she started experiencing ovulation. She had to get herself pregnant as soon as possible.

Soyeon went outside her apartment, wearing only a coat to deal with the freezing Seoul weather and her lingerie. She was truly determined to find the first guy on the street and make him impregnate her. Walking across a street, she didn't see the red light, forcing you to slam on the brakes as your car almost hit her.

"WHAT THE FUCK? COME ON, YOU CAN'T CROSS ON A RED LIGHT," you screamed at her. "I'm sorry," a very needy Soyeon answered, a couple of tears flowing from her eyes. Despite her tough image and strong leadership, Soyeon is a very soft person who always feels embarrassed when she makes a mistake. "It's fine," you told her.

"Can you take me back home?" Soyeon asked. "Sure," you promptly answer her. "Just type your address on the GPS," you told her. Soyeon did that, quickly opening your car's windows in spite of the freezing weather, popping half her tiny body out of it. "This girl is crazy," you said, but she couldn't hear it, as your radio was blasting her group's song "Fate." Fitting, as it felt like she could only avoid getting hit and being taken back home thanks to some improbable combination of events.

Soyeon was feeling so wild and horny she took her bra off, flashing her perky little tits in the open and then middle fingering some random driver in a tunnel. She truly felt like she was in the sky right now, completely untouchable and not caring about her surroundings, only focused on one thing: getting herself pregnant.

As you finally reached the parking lot of her apartment, Soyeon quickly made her moves, getting close to you and pushing your head as you kissed her neck and massaged her bare tits. You could tell her body was boiling as an effect of her ovulation. Soon she dropped on her knees, unzipping your pants with the strength of a hungry lion, getting your cock ready with a very short soul-sucking blowjob. she stopped as soon as she felt your precum rising. "Let's go inside, you better save this cum to get me pregnant," she said.

"Carry me, please," a needy Soyeon said shortly after. You were still confused but enjoyed what that hungry woman had to offer, following her orders and putting her tiny body on top of your right shoulder, dropping her at the apartment's front door as Soyeon opened it and smiled at you. You were impressed at the size of it, as she pinned herself against the wall close to the stairs and started giving you very hot kisses and touching your body from top to bottom, paying special attention to the hard cock under your pants she had tasted a few moments ago.

"Take me here; I want to be your fucktoy until you breed me," Soyeon said, pointing to the stairs as she put her arms behind her back and let you grab them as she let you pin her against the handrail. The roaring lion knew quite well how to be a submissive kitten, and this is what Soyeon wanted to be tonight, just a needy girl who wanted her pussy to be turned into a cum dump.

You give Soyeon's ass a little spanking. "Hmmmmm," she softly moaned, already feeling very sensitive, but quickly reacted as she started grinding it against your clothed crotch, instantly making you throb hard. You could tell that woman was very experienced and had an insane sex drive, and just by that quick blowjob she had given you at that parking lot, you could already tell this could be an amazing night.

You tossed your shirt on the ground as Soyeon kissed you, and you grabbed her waist while she kept grinding her ass against you. Quickly, you took her panties down and spread her ass cheeks, diving your face in it, licking both her holes. "Uhhhh shit, oh my god," she moaned once again and laughed as you gave her ass another little tap before moving up and kissing her as she enjoyed the taste of her holes.

Soyeon grabbed the chains on your neck, but you quickly countered her, turning her around and taking your clothes off as you pushed your massive cock out and slapped against her ass cheeks. "Please, I need it; put it in my pussy and fuck it until you fill it to the brim," Soyeon begged. You lifted her small left leg and started to insert your cock in her pussy. "Ohhhh yeah," she moaned, very excited as her pussy already throbbed hard for that cock.

"OH MY GOD, HOLY FUCK," a very sensitive Soyeon screamed as you pushed your cock deeper in her pussy. You started very slowly. "Give me, please," she begged as you gripped her waist and thrust inside her cunt. As your cock hit her cervix for the first time, Soeyon's body trembled. "Fucking big," it was all she could say, already losing her breath as you kept pushing, her getting very sweaty in spite of the cold temperatures and her hair getting utterly messy.

"It's so good; keep pushing," Soyeon said as you increased the speed of your thrusts. "Damn, that's so fucking amazing," she said, kissing you as she could barely utter words out of her mouth. "Oh shit," you said, confronted with the tightness of her cunt and clapping her cheeks hard to get deep inside her throbbing walls. Soyeon bounced a bit and then let you take full control, dreaming of herself getting pregnant each second your cock went in and out of her pussy.

"AHHHHH FUCKKK," Soyeon let out a massive scream as soon as you could no longer contain yourself and smacked your cock deeper and deeper in her pussy. "Fuck me hard, baby," she said, barely able to hold herself as she clung to the handrail. "Damn it," she cursed as your cock was balls deep inside her, hitting her cervix every single time it went all the way in.

"I love how my belly bulges," Soyeon said as your cock kept working on her pussy. The gap in size between you two was almost 30 cm, but the tiny, pretty Jeon was able to handle your massive cock just fine. you could tell that her strength far overwhelmed her pocket size, as while many girls complained of your big cock stretching them out, she kept inviting you for more.

"OH MY GOD, OH SHIT!" Soyeon finally screamed as you pushed her to the limit. She guided you to the spatious living room of her aparment, pushing you to the couch as she showed you why she's one of the best cocksuckers in the business. You felt like a boss as Soyeon impaled her throat on your big cock and got very sloppy from the start, bobbing her head like crazy and gagging all over that dick.

"Oh yeah," Soyeon says as she performs a very speedy blowjob, slapping your cock against her tongue as she works her magic on it, covering it full of saliva. "Fuck yeah, you're so fucking nasty, baby," you say to her as she covers her mouth and strokes your tip while licking it as well. In the end her blowjobs are like her raps: very loud, very fast, very powerful.

Soyeon kept sucking and jerking your cock off like the nasty bitch she was, spitting all the way in your tip and savoring it shortly after. She had such an unorthodox way of blowing cocks off, rarely deepthroating them but making fast moves circling around the tip. She loves to tell her groupmates that's a rapper's blowjob, while deepthroats are vocalists blowjobs.

Soyeon climbs up and lets you taste her cock-filled mouth. You can tell she's hornier than ever. You massage her ass and spread her cunt, making her moan and smile as she keeps giving you sloppy kisses before climbing down for another round of crazy cock-sucking and head-boby. "HOLY FUCK," you scream, putting an end to her fun. Soyeon crawls on the carpet, you chasing her and spanking her ass, making her laugh. you catch Soyeon and pin her against the floor, spreading her ass as you get ready to mount on top of her. "OH MY GOD," she screams in pain as your cock instantly slides all the way deep in her cunt.

You fuck Soyeon like a savage, her feeling as if her soul is leaving her body. Rolling her eyes and screaming as her body gets pressed to the floor, Soyeon can feel you bulge under a little belly, making her start dreaming again of it getting inflated with a baby inside it. "SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT," she curses every time your cock hits her cervix as you keep plowing her cunt in an animalesque prone bone position. "Baby, you're so deep in me," she says, barely able to breathe as your cock rips her pussy apart.

"FUCK, IT'S SO BIG, I LOVE IT," Soyeon screams as you clap her cheeks relentlessly. "I love it, baby; keep fucking me, baby." she soon gets very needy, you just followe her instructions as loud noises come out of each thrust you give Soyeon's pussy. You put her back on all fours, grabbing her shoulders and remaining on yop of her. "OH MY GOD, AHHHHHH" she screams again, but the more she does it, the harder you fuck her.

Soyeon is a complete mess as she's all sweaty and can barely sit on her feet. She kisses you before getting all submissive for another round of pounding. "Keep doing that," she says, getting what she asks for as she grinds her teeth while getting obliterated. "Keep going, keep going; it's so deep," she moans. "You're fucking the shit out of me; that's what I want, FUCKKKKK," she says.

You pause the pounding a bit to caress Soyeon's stretched-out pussy. "You're fucking me so good, baby," she whispers in your ear. "I want you to fuck me more; don't stop; fill me up," she begs as she stays on all fours on the carpet and shakes her ass in your face, and you lick her throbbing pussy after so much pounding. "Keep doing that, oh my god, you lick me so good," she says, increasing the speed of her ass shaking as you dive deep in her pussy.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," Soyeon contorts in pain as your cock gets back inside her, her body more sensitive than ever. But you just keep pounding her pussy despite her screams. "OH MY GOD, BABY, IT'S SO DEEP!" she continues to scream as she gets weaker and weaker. "Wait, wait, wait," she begs, unable to stay on her feet.

You grab Soyeon's tiny body and push it up, kissing her as you let her recover from your hard pounding. She's so small and weak you carry her with ease, sliding your cock in her pussy and carry-fucking her. "HOLY FUCK, DAMN IT," she screams as her cheeks get clapped hard while her body is up in the air, clinging hard to you not to fall off. "OHHHHHH FUCKKKKK," she screams as you plow her pussy harder and harder, not giving it any rest.

You put Soyeon back on her feet after your quick carry-fucking session is over. She's more needy than ever. You reward her with another sloppy blowjob, her salivating like crazy all over your shaft and bobbing her head on it with eyes wide open. The way she plays with the tip never ceases to amaze you, making bubbles with her mouth around it and letting a string of saliva fully coat it as she worships it like crazy with her "rapping blowjob.".

"Get in there," you tell Soyeon, opening the yellow curtains of the living room. "What a view to get fucked, right?" you ask her, pinning her against the glass. Soyeon can't even answer, feeling weaker than ever. "OH MY GOSH, BABY," she screams as your cock gets inside her, reacting and pulling out before putting it in the right position. She keeps moaning but bounces her ass on it as she looks at the amazing view of Seoul in the mirror while you stretch her out. "OH MY GOD, IT'S SO DEEP," she says as you grab her cute butt. Soyeon closes her eyes, the glass getting foggy as she breathes all over it. "Fuck, baby, fuck, make me cum like that," she says, her hands going from the glass to her pussy.

"AHHHHH AHHHHHH I'M GONNA CUM," Soyeon says as she squirts all over the wooden floor, clinging to the support of the window. You grab her tiny waist and stay fucking her like usual, groping her little tits, so as Soyeon increasingly loses the grip over her own body, she crawls once again in the room, unable to walk at this point as she is extremely sensitive and her ovulation is in full effect. She tries to go upstairs, but you easily catch her and put your cock back in her pussy. "AHHHHHHH," she screams as you hold her waist and fuck her right at the door that leads to the living room, her body facing the floor as she once again feels like her soul is escaping from her.

You carry Soyeon upstairs, dropping her at her bed and spreading her legs as you worship her throbbing pussy. "Ohhhh baby," she moans as you eat her out, closing her eyes and enjoying squirting all over your face while your tongue works fast and hard on her clit, reminding her of her own blowjobs. "Keep going, baby, shitttt," she moans as her pussy gets even wetter and her legs shake. You take off her stockings and nearly all her lingerie, your cock already pointing once again towards that stretched-out cunt. You then kiss and worship her feet. "Oh yeah, baby, treat me like a goddess," Soyeon says as you lick her toes, her being so sensitive now that even that makes her moan a lot. "Holy fuck, the way you kiss my feet is so sexy," she says.

Soyeon then moves closer to you as she decides to sit on your lap, impale herself full of your cock once again. She may not be able to walk at this point, but she can still ride on a dick like her life depends on it. You can quickly tell she's a pro at cock riding, her bounces being firm, well-paced, and strong, alternating slow and fast moves as she's now in full control of your cock, using her throbbing pussy to give it the best possible massage.

Soyeon tilts her body forward as she keeps moving up and down your cock while you wrap your arms around her body to bring her closer. "Holy shit," she moans as she gets fully impaled by your massive size. "Oh my God, that cock is amazing," she says as she quickly squats and twerks on it, with you staying on the edge not to cum inside her and fulfill her motherhood fantasies. "Your dick is so fucking perfect, baby, and it'll be even more perfect when you fill my tiny little pussy with cum," she says, taking dirty, while at the same time getting very clingy and kissing you.

As Soyeon gets on her feet for the first time in a while, she stays committed to bouncing on your dick, feeling as if she's floating in the air. She moves so fast now you feel scared she's gonna snap that cock in half. "HOLY FUCK, IT'S HITTING ME SO DEEP," she screams, but remains focused on riding it anyway, toying with it as she spins on your shaft.

"Fuck me deep; I need this so bad," Soyeon tells you as she gets even clingier, hugging you and just letting your cock freakily pump her cunt. "Give that big fucking cock to me, please. oh my god, keep doing that, OHHHHH FUCKKKKKK, I'M CUMMING, OH GODDDDD," Soyeon starts moaning as you hit her pussy nonstop, her short hair fully covering her face as she struggles to deal with the heat you put in her fuckhole. "That's so sexy, baby, keep going," she says regardless and then resumes bouncing on your cock, opening and closing her legs and inventing new ways to ride it and getting herself stretched out.

"Give me, give me, give me, please. I want more cock," Soyeon says. "Then suck it," you tell her, pushing her little body out of you and jerking yourself off in preparation for another round of amazing blowjobs. Soyeon interlocks her pussy lips with your mouth's lips, stretching her little body to dive her mouth back on that cock, although you're so big she doesn't need to make much of an effort despite her short height.

Soyeon alternates bobbing her head firmly using her hands and using no hand at all, choking herself on that big shaft like a maniac, her hair bouncing all over her face as she spins it as she moans with you eating her pussy, but it all gets muffled under that big shaft. Soyeon spits hard on it as her head-bobbing only gets crazier and crazier. She looks at the window and starts having visions of a massive concert crowd, as wild fantasies of her performing oral sex on a fan in front of a huge audience start popping into her mind.

"I want you to cum deep in my pussy. I want you to make me the mother I've always wanted to be," Soyeon says as she finishes sucking your cock off and lays on the bed again as opens her legs. With your cock so wet from her sloppy blowjob, you slide in her already used up cunt with ease, getting ready to fuck her in missionary position. She's needier than ever, kissing you the second your cock gets inside her again. You take it very slow, her already very wasted and barely feeling her legs. Soyeon massages her clit and tries to cope with the heat your cock put in her pussy. "Ohhh baby, your cock feels so good inside me," she says, spreading her bottom lips and praying to god every time you hit her cervix.

You finally throw any caution out of the window and fuck Soyeon hard. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD," she screams as tears flow out of her eyes. You wreck her tiny, pretty pussy hard, showing no regard for it. "This shit is so huge," she says as she wraps her legs around your body and lets you plow her at full speed, her body bouncing like crazy. "HOLY FUCK," she screams as you turn her into nothing but a cocksleeve.

You put Soyeon under a mating press, making her fulfill the fantasy she always dreamed of after seeing it countless times in her hentai collection. She never thought it could happen to her, yet here you were, ready to inseminate her tiny pretty cunt at the most submissive position ever. "Fuck me like a toy, please, breed me, I want your baby, OH MY GOD, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," Soyeon moans as your balls clap against her cheeks and her cunt gets stretched to the fullest. It's now or never for both of you: you're not pulling out until you fill that pussy up, she's not letting you go until you impregnate her.

"I WANT YOU TO CUM DEEP IN THE PUSSY, ALL THE WAY DEEP, BABY," Soyeon demands, and as soon as you hear these words, you empty your balls in her cunt. "I'm gonna cum, ahhhhh," you announce as her walls squeeze your cock and she gets filled to the brim, you two recreating those classic breeding hentai scenes as Soyeon's vagina is turned into a white mess of sperm. "Holy fuck, I hope you came enough to give me that baby I wanted," Soyeon says, thanking you by cleaning your cock and then kissing you.

"Take me to the shower; I want you to fill me up again there as well," she says, getting your cock quickly hard again with a sloppy blowjob and preparing it for a second round.

And that's how you spent the whole night, becoming Soyeon's personal inseminator and cumming countless times in her ovulating womb. A few days pass by, Soyeon praying it was enough to get her pregnant. One day, she passes through the same places you fucked her that night, going from her bedroom to the living room all the way to her shower, until she stops and throws up in her toilet.

It's the sign she needed. Soyeon picks up a pregnancy test from her sink drawer. "Please, please, tell me I'm pregnant," she prays. After a few minutes, the test comes up positive.

"HOLY FUCK, I'M GOING TO BE A MOTHER," Soyeon screams. She takes a pic of the test and sends it to you with the caption. "Baby, I'm pregnant.".

Damn, she wasn't kidding when she told you to impregnate her, was she?

[writing-mlm]

Will you love me again?

Summary: Simon’s returned home after 20 years but the suitors have finally grown restless of waiting for you to pick a new King of Ithaca. Pairing: King!Simon Riley x King!Ftm!reader Wc: 6.1k Tags/Warning: Canon-level violence, talks/planning of S/A, Epic the Musical Ithaca Saga spoilers! Most of the words are literally lyrics so ig song fic, oral (r!receiving), fingering, stomach bulge, reader has a vagina, no protection, creampie

His skin remembers the touch of your lips, the way they’d press against his tense muscles, the way they’d kiss his scars and carry soft whispers and songs. How your hands would touch him, run up his arms, cradle his face, and remove his helmet. He remembers the sound of your voice, how you’d talk to him while weaving against the window, your kingdom standing below your castle. 

The castle he’d built all those years ago as a declaration of his love for you. A castle that grew colder as the years stretched on since he’s been there; taken away for a war. 

A war, born from a greedy man kidnapping your cousin. A war Simon hadn’t wanted to participate in because, despite his oath to your cousin's husband, the Trojans have never helped Ithaca in their times of need. And even more so, he had you, his husband, and your newborn to watch over. To protect. He’d only agreed to help after he’d been tricked. 

A war that was supposed to be no more than five years had turned into a twenty-year journey. He’d left a twenty-year-old, rising to power in Ithaca with a newborn son. Now he’s forty, his home just out of sight, and his son would be twenty. He imagines how you must look now. How your hair must’ve greyed, how you picked the hyacinths and bluebells from the garden. 

He wonders how his son is doing, what he likes, and what he’s accomplished. How he’s missed his whole life. 

Simon strains as he pushes the raft from the island, the goddess he left on the sandy shores crying for him. Begging him to stay; she loves him. He loathes her. He loathes the years he’s stayed trapped on that island, how she’d been persistent on loving him. Gods, provided she wasn’t a goddess, he would’ve killed her the first time she even hinted at such. 

His head hurts when he remembers his fallen friends; Gaz, Price— and Johnny. He’d gotten his brother killed, he let all of them, all six hundred men die under his watch. The cyclops, Scylla, Circe— Zeus, Poseidon. He recognizes the pain turning into red-hot anger as he pushes past Charybdis. These past years cannot have been in vain. The souls that haunt his dreams won’t have died in vain. 

He’ll make it home, he’s sure of that. 

—

You stare at the suitors gathered at the palace gates, angry men eager to become the next king one way or another. All the while your son, Johnny, stands in front of them with a spear and your old armor. You know that look in his eyes, that Athena's determination he has because Simon had it, too. 

You sigh, undoing the threads you’d made the day before. For the funeral shroud you’ve been making for ten years with the promise that once it’s done, you’ll pick from the suitors and give Ithaca a new king. You almost laugh when you remember how many years ago that had been now. How foolish the suitors had been to agree to your demand. How you fear you’ll have to finish it one of these days. 

You look at your sword hung in the corner of the room. You remember your newly made armor, tucked in your closet, the new bow and arrow next to it. You remember the feeling of warm blood on your hands. 

Even if you must finish the shroud they’ll never get their wishes. No one will rule alongside you and if you must, you’ll take a queen. Perhaps some common woman with nothing better to do; drown her with all the things a queen would desire all the while you continue your duties as king. 

Standing, you close the curtains to the window and grab your sword. It feels like home in your hands, reminders of your time as a warrior of Sparta and then Ithaca. You’ve never forgotten your lessons, the teachings so ingrained in your very being they feel like second nature when you swipe the air. 

It’ll need to be sharpened before tomorrow. 

That night a storm rages on the coast of Ithaca. You watch from the balcony, the wind blowing your hair and clothes as you try to see inside of the storm. Poseidon fights, you can tell that much, and gods, you know in your bones. You know it’s time to set your plan in motion. 

You call a maid to send the news; the Challenge you’d set up after five years of Simon being gone was happening. You rush to gather Simon’s old bow, carefully undoing the string while the servants gather twelve axes from the armory. 

—

“I’ll be back soon,” Johnny promises the next morning. You stand at the pier, watching as he loads onto a boat; about to head off for a mission for the kingdom. 

“I know you will,” You smile, giving him a dagger that he places on his thigh strap. You don’t pretend to notice the group of angry suitors hiding behind ships, watching as you watch your son leave. Leaving you alone for who knows how long, the mission shouldn’t take longer than a day, though. 

As the ship leaves, you look at where the storm had raged, sure that you see a small object floating towards Ithaca shores. You smile, hanging your head before thanking whatever God had allowed him home and return to the castle. The suitors follow, ready for the challenge you’d sent messengers to talk about that morning. You ride your horse back, letting them climb the mountain to the castle as you prepare for what’s to come. 

Their footsteps are heavy, echoing in the halls as a maid guides them to the throne room. You sit at your throne, the half-finished shroud draped over Simon’s throne. His crown sits under it, shining like the first day it was made. A reminder to them and yourself that your husband is out there, that they’ll never sit on that throne as long as you’re alive.

As you look around, you inhale and look over the crowd of men. There are dozens of them, some bigger, some smaller. All of them hungry for power, all of them greedy in a way that makes your stomach turn. 

You stand, shoulders back and head held high as hold back a deep, etching frown. 

“The Challenge,” You start as the murmurs die into a silence that had overtaken the castle all those years ago. You grip the bow, raising it in the air for everyone to see.  “Whoever can string my husband's old bow and shoot through twelve axes cleanly,” Your gaze travels to the axes, lined up in a straight line, the hole only just big enough to allow an arrow to slide through. “Will be the new king and rule with me.” Cheers echo through the halls and you hand the bow to the first suitor before you take your seat. Your throne.

You hope Simon knows that you’re buying him time; that you’ve bought him twenty years of time to return. That he’ll climb the mountain from the shores to the castle before they grow behind restless. Bloodthirsty with one goal on their mind. You hope your son doesn’t come back to see you in such a state if Simon doesn’t make it on time. 

They grow more frustrated as the hours tick by and they find that no one can string the bow. Eventually, the sun sets and you tell them they can try again tomorrow. They all agree, with some grumbles and you take the bow back from a suitor who bares his teeth at you. He resembles a beast, a beast that you don’t dignify with a reaction. 

—

“Screw this competition,” A man that Simon knows all too well, Graves, snarls as he tosses his old bow to the ground. “We’ve been here for hours. None of us can string this; we don’t have the power. Screw this damn challenge!” He rakes his hands through his hair, the stress clear in his actions that make Simon proud. Of course, you’d set up something only he could do, of course, you’d waited all these years for him to return.

“No more delay. Don’t you see that we’ve been played?” Grave’s eyes travel amongst the men crowded around him. Men that are so easily swayed by simple words that it makes Simon seethe. “This is how he holds us down as the throne gets colder. Hold us down as we slowly age. Hold us down while the boy gets bolder.” Grave continues, daring to even hint about Simon and your son. “Where the hell is our pride and our rage?” A couple of the men agree, egged on by each other's stupidity. 

“Here and now,” Another man says as Grave smirks; clearly his plan is working. Like a moth to a flame, they take his bait. “There’s a chance for action; we can take control. Here and now we can burn it to ashes.” Too big for his pants, Simon assumes. 

He leaves for a moment, gathering their weapons and hiding them in the armory, making sure to leave it unlocked before he returns to their conversation. By that point more men had gathered; you’d long since left the throne room so Simon didn’t worry about you hearing their voices any longer. 

“Haven’t you noticed who’s missing? Don’t you notice the prince is not around? I heard he’s on a diplomatic mission and I heard today he's coming back to town.” Grave continues, and crosses his arms over his chest. Simon’s eyes dart down from his place in the room, overlooking the shores of Ithaca as a boat slowly approaches. 

“So…?” A different man speaks from somewhere in the crowd. 

“I say we gather near the beaches. We wait till he arrives, then when he docks his ship I say we breach it. Let us leave now, today we can strike!” Grave doesn’t feel the sharp glare that hits his head as he speaks. Unaware that his words have just set his fate into motion; a fate that Simon has become oh so familiar with these past twenty years. 

“Hold him down, till the boy stops shaking.”

He counts the men; seventy in total. 

“Hold him down, while I slit his throat.”

He’s taken down worse. More. 

“Hold him down, while I slowly break his pride, his trust, his faith, and his bones!”

He can’t wait to watch them bleed. The feeling of their blood on his hands; something he hadn’t realized could feel so good until now. He wanted to chase it like they plan on chasing you and your son.

“Cut him down into tiny pieces. Throw him down in the great below that way when the crown wonders where the prince is only the ocean and I will know.” 

Watch their light leave their eyes; hear their screams. Beg him to spare them. The gurgling sound as they choke on their own blood.

“And when it’s done,” Grace smirks. “The king will have no one to stop us from breaking his bedroom door. Stop us from taking his love and more. And then we’ll…”

He’ll savor Graves the most, he quickly decides. He won’t dignify him with a fast death. He’ll hurt him, hold him down, and break his bones. He’ll drag him by his legs into town, parading him around to not only show he’s home to his throne, to his husband and his son but to show that anyone who had thought any different will face the same consequences. 

“Hold him down.”

“While the gate is open.”

“Hold him down.”

“While I get a taste and we share his spoils. I will not let any part go to waste.” 

He rises from his spot, his hand a deathly grip on his knife as the men try to leave the halls, one of them pointedly staggering behind. Drunk on wine. The perfect way to announce himself. 

He doesn’t waste a second, stabbing the man in the throat and he watches as he gurgles on his own blood as he returns to his perfectly hidden spot. He watches with glee as the light leaves his eyes, staring down at him as his body goes limp. 

The men stop at the door, having heard the noise. When they turn they only see a dead man and then nothing around him. Quicker than they can react, the torches around them snuff out one by one, and then the door behind them locks. Like rats they scramble, searching frantically on the ground for anything they can use to defend themselves. 

“Twenty years,” Simon growls. “I suffered from the wrath of Gods and monsters to the screams of my comrades. Watched my men die like cattle. I come back to my palace, desecrated and sacked like Troy. Worst of all,” He reaches into the darkness, grabbing a random man who shouts, tugging at Simon’s wrist to be let go. 

“I hear you dare to touch my husband and hurt my boy! I… have had… enough.” He snaps the man’s neck in three motions before stepping over his now limp body as he watches the men scramble in the dark. He supposes he should thank Calypso for living on such a dark island, now he can watch them as they scramble for torches. Lighting them with the nearby lighters. 

He grabs his bow, stringing it with ease while the others run in the castle. The darkness that shrouds them is emphasized by the setting sun. Simon struts after them, listening to their footsteps and breathing like a predator. 

“We have the advantage; we’ve the numbers and the might.” A man says, clearly not knowing who he’s up against.

“No!” Shouts a man who does, he wonders if they fought together before. Somehow that makes him all the more angry as he grabs an arrow from his quiver. “You don’t understand! This man plans for every fight.” An arrow flies through the air, stabbing him through the neck and the others shout, watching as he drops and the torch rolls away from his limp hand. Everyone scrambles away, fleeing down the hall. 

“Where is he? Where is he?” Someone shouts, his eyes as wide as they can go and he looks into the darkness. 

“Keep your heads down, he's aiming for the torches!” Someone else hisses and they all duck, holding the torches as high as they can manage without dropping it. 

“Our weapons! They’re missing!” Simon grins at the fear in the man’s tone, stringing another arrow. 

“We’re empty-handed,” Someone says, the realization that they’re fucked dawning on him. “Up against an archer.” He mutters, looking around the dark room. 

“Our only chance is to strike him in the darkness. We know these halls our odds can be titled.” Someone tries to comfort him before flinching at the sound of Simon’s snicker. 

“You don’t think I know my own palace? I built it!” Another arrow flies, hitting a man in the head. He walks after them as they run away. 

“It’s the old king!”

“No! Our leader is dead!” 

“Old king forgive us!”

“Let’s have open arms instead!” He stops walking, notching yet another arrow as he’s reminded of Gaz. His chest tightens when he remembers his friend, his brother. 

“No,” The arrow flies, he doesn’t care to see who it lands inside of. He knows Graves isn’t with this group and heads the other way; towards where he’d hidden their weapons. He’ll deal with the others later, for now only one person has a giant target on their back.

“Dammit,” Grave hisses as he opens the door to the armory. “He’s more cunning than I thought. While we were plotting he hid our weapons in here.” He waves the torch through the room, each weapon highlighted by the burning flame. 

“I find it hard to believe that the sharpest of kings left his armory unlocked,” A man mutters, his frantic eyes looking outside of the room because he knows what’s out there, waiting for him. 

“So what?” Grave scoffs as he grabs his sword. “Let’s make the bastard rot.”

“Behind you!” He spins, watching as Simon stabs a man through the chest with a sword, his piercing eyes glaring at Graves over the man’s shoulder. The man collapses to the floor while Simon takes the sword out, flicking the blood onto the walls. 

“Put the weapons down and I’ll spare you,” He tells the men and immediately they do but Graves doesn’t. Simon tilts his head, eyes flickering to the ten men around Graves. 

“How do you dare? Haven’t you seen what he’ll do to us?” Someone asks him, his hands held up in fear.

“The prince!” Someone shouts and Simon makes the mistake of looking behind him. The men in the armory jump on his back without hesitation, shouting to attack the prince that way he’ll have to stand down. Simon struggles against them, his sword clattering to the ground when he sees the torches illuminating his son. 

He chokes as he sees his son falling to the ground, scrambling to his dagger that had gotten thrown in the fight. 

“Stop struggling and we’ll show you mercy,” Grave whispers in Simon’s ear, holding his hair in an iron-tight grip. 

“Mercy?” A voice cuts and Simon feels blood running down his cloak. He hears the sound of someone being impaled and then another in quick succession. The weight on his back lessens and he charges forward. 

“Mercy?” Simon bellows, taking harsh steps toward the now-fallen Graves. Unable to find his footing again as more men die around him. “My mercy long since drowned. It died to bring me home. And as long as you're around my family's fate is left unknown. You plotted to kill my son.” In one motion he scoops Graves up, bringing him to his feet and then against the wall. The tip of his blade presses against the man’s neck as his eyes squeeze shut, feet trying to find purchase aside from the tips of his toes on the cold marble floors. 

“You planned to rape my husband! All of you are going to die!” He stabs Graves six times, huffing as the body slumps against him and then against the wall when Simon shoves him away. 

He stands tall, listening to the shouts of the scared, trapped men as their fates quickly find them. He knows who is fighting at his side; he knows so well but he doesn’t register it until everyone is dead. Until the torches line the walls and he sees his foes splayed on the floors. 

“Father?” The sword in his hand clatters to the ground as he spins around. Johnny stands where he was once pinned down, blood dusting his tunic and his face. None of which is his own, Simon thanks the gods for that fact.

“Son,” His voice cracks as he takes a step forward. His chest heaves as he looks at his boy, and how he’s grown into a man. Johnny rushes forward, pulling him into a hug. 

“I’ve waited my whole life for you. Twenty years,” He cries into Simon’s chest, his sobs growing as he feels his father's tight embrace. 

“Oh my son, look how much you’ve grown,” He whispers, fighting back his own tears. “Oh, my boy. My sweetest joy. I captured the wind and sky for you.”

“My son, I'm finally home.” He finally cries, looking at his son's face for the first time in twenty years. He sees you in him, he sees himself. Simon presses his forehead to Johnny’s, holding the back of his neck as he cries. He cries and he weeps, relief, something he hasn’t felt in years, floods his body as all of the suffering he’s endured has been worth it. 

“My love?” He hates to look away but he does, his chest tight when he sees you removing your helmet. Your sword stuck in some man’s chest as your feet carried you across the hall and into his arms. 

He calls you, your name falling from his lips and you cry into his neck. You’d nearly forgotten the sound of it on his tongue. 

“Is it you?” You ask, pushing away from him after the initial shock. He’d warned you all those years ago, not to trust anyone who looked like him. He knew the Gods and their tricks; you knew them, too. “Have my prayers been answered? Or am I dreaming again?” 

“I am no’ the man you fell in love with,” He admits as your eyes scan over him. You pick apart everything about him that’s changed over the years as doubt creeps in the back of your mind. “I am not the man you once adored; I am not your kind and gentle husband and I am not the love you knew before.” You frown as he takes your hands, falling to his knees before looking up at you. With a gaze, you tell Johnny to leave the two of you for now. 

“Would you fall in love with me again if you knew all I’ve done? The things I cannot change. Would you love me all the same? I know that you’ve been waiting for love.” He begs, his bleary eyes unable to look at anything but you.

You nod, holding his face before guiding him up to his feet. “What kind of things did you do?” His head dips down in shame as the two of you move to stand outside in your garden. Free of blood and bodies as you sit under the olive tree he’d planted for you all those years ago. 

“Left a trail of blood on every island. I traded friends as though they were objects. Hurt more lives than I can count. But all so I could come back to you.” He cries, holding your face, his cries growing as you lean into the touch. “Tell me, please. Would you fall in love with me again?” 

“If that’s true,” You start, moving his hand from your face and he falters, eyes darting between yours as if they’ll reveal your choice before your voice does. “Could you do me a favor?” 

“Anything,” He nods. 

“Just a moment of labor that would bring me some peace. See that wedding bed? Could you carry it over? Lift it high on your shoulders and take it far from here?” You ask, your eyes darting between his own as you wait. Wait as you’ve done for twenty long years. 

“How could you say this?” He asks, his hand moving from your face. “I built that wedding bed with my blood and sweat. Carved it into the olive tree where we first met. A symbol of our love everlasting! Do you realize what you have asked me? The only way to move it is to cut it from its roots!” He shouts, almost standing due to the anger bubbling in him. 

“Only my husband knew that!” You sob, holding his hands again. “You’re real! My Gods, you’re real!” He calls your name as you shudder. You shake your head, pulling him close as your hands search his body, holding him impossibly close. 

“I will fall in love with you over and over again. I don’t care how, where, or when. No matter how long it’s been. You’re mine. Don’t tell me you’re not the same person, you’re always my husband and I’ve been waiting for you!” He blinks, brushing your tears from your face before he kisses you. 

You crumble under his touch, your hands shaking as you cradle his face. He holds you tightly, pressing your armored chest flush against himself. You pull away first, tucking his now long blonde hair behind his ears to see his face properly. 

—

You don’t get a chance to admire the new Simon, not between the kissing and his insisting that you share the bed with Johnny for the night. You agree, of course, the two of you squishing Simon while he happily holds the two of you in his arms as the night draws on. 

Simon wakes up first, he’s gotten so used to being forced to share a bed with Calypso that he’d made his body wake up early to escape her. He looks at you and Johnny for a while, softly crying as he knows he’s home. Eventually, he gets up, hating the way the two of you whimper at the lost feeling between the two of you. 

He doesn’t venture far, just far enough to grab a bowl of water and a blade. Settling in front of a mirror, he shaves his face for the first time since he set out to Troy and then cuts his hair. He’s never seen his grey hairs before. Despite knowing that he was aging while he was out there he hadn’t realized he was aging. He wasn’t twenty anymore, he certainly didn’t look it either. 

He has scars on his face, he has grey hairs, he has the starts of wrinkles, eye bags— he could list them for hours. 

He looks back at you as you sleep. At your grey hairs, at your wrinkles and he smiles. You’re just as beautiful as the day he met you. 

Stepping towards the window he sees the castle workers dragging the bodies out of the castle and into a carriage. Tossing them unceremoniously and he makes his way down. 

“Load them and wait. Do not touch them any further,” He tells one of the maids without looking at her, his gaze locked on the men who had dared to try and defile his family. “Send word to the people of Ithaca. Meet at the pier by noon.” She nods, waiting to be dismissed by the king but he turns on his heel and returns to your room. 

You’re awake, rubbing your eyes as your sleepwear slips from your shoulder. 

“Did I wake you?” He asks, crawling into the bed and kissing the exposed skin. You roll your head at the feeling, holding the back of his head to keep him in place. 

“No,” You murmur, head against his. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you, too,” He pulls you onto his lap and you let him, too tired to fight back as he lays down again. “Trust me, ‘m not leaving ever again.”

“I like the sound of that,” You yawn, rubbing Johnny’s hair as he reaches out for the two of you. “We need to get up, though. Clean the halls,” 

“Already taken care of, love.” You hum, head resting on his bare chest, fingers tracing against his skin.

“You cut your hair,” You point out. 

“Mhmm, like it?” 

“Ask me later; ‘m too tired.” He chuckles and pets your cheek with his knuckles. 

“Rest my love, I’m not going anywhere.” 

The next time you wake up, he’s engrossed in a conversation with Johnny. He’s still holding you, but now it’s sitting up on the bed while Johnny all but bounces around the room. He talks about his own adventures with Athena, how he’d almost beat up Graves this one time, how you always kept a place for him. He talks about the stories he grew up hearing about the great King Simon of Ithaca. 

Simon listens, committing his son's voice to memory while he inhales the smell of your hair. 

A knock at the door stops their conversation and Simon calls for whoever it is to come in as he pulls the blanket over your body. 

“It is nearly noon, King Simon.” 

“Thank you,” He nods, watching the door close before he looks down at you. “How long have you been awake?” He chides upon seeing your very much awake eyes on him. 

“Long enough,” You respond but make no action to move. “What’s at noon?”

“You’ll see.” He lifts you with ease, picking himself up in the process and you laugh, holding onto his shoulders while Johnny gags and rushes out of the room. 

In the tub, Simon sits first, letting you slowly sit with him before he kisses you. His lips and teeth pull and suck at the skin of your neck while you coo, squeezing his shoulders. The cold water wakes you up more than the kisses do, but when his hand dives between your legs you swear you’re more than awake. 

“Mmm-mm,” You shake your head as you reluctantly push his hands away, he pouts but doesn’t fight it. “I want it to be in bed. To reclaim it,” His pupils dilate at the idea, you feel his pulse against his wrist and you grin, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“I can do that,” He nods, instead moving his hands to start washing the two of you. 

The two of you dress together in your finest tunics, adorning yourselves in the royal jewelry and colors before getting Johnny from his room. Again, Simon finds himself between the two of you as you head down to your horses. Even more so when you’re all squished into a chariot. 

The wagon of dead bodies follows behind you, the smell of death present as the townspeople watch. People gasp at the sight of Simon, and whispers of the long-since departed king's return echo throughout Ithaca. 

Simon steps onto the platform, bringing you up with him and you stand next to him while Johnny stands in front of the two of you. 

He starts a speech, making a point about the dead men. He talks of the disrespect to his house– to his family. He dares someone else to try to ruin his family, to hurt his son, his husband. He declares himself back, the two kings of Ithaca ruling again. Merciful, he calls the act of bloodshed the two of you had committed the night before. He calls the men’s mothers, their fathers, their wives, their children. He tells them they can weave their funeral shroud for them. Or else he’ll burn them to keep your room warm. 

He watches as they collect their sons, their husbands, and their fathers. He holds you close, fingers a bruising grip against your waist. 

The two of you head back; Johnny stays behind to venture around the kingdom. You think it’s so the two of you can be alone for a little while. 

—

“I’ve missed you, husband,” Simon says, his head between your legs. He’s thrown them over his shoulders, his hands kneading the flesh of your stomach. He’s dreamt of this sight for two decades and yearned to dive his head between your legs again. Savoring the taste, feeling the way you’d clench around him. 

“I’ve missed you, husband,” You parrot, reaching down to hold his chin. He leans into the warm touch, eyes closing as he savors it. You trail your hand up, holding his hair as he dives down. You gasp when he presses his tongue flat against you, slowly dragging up and down while watching you. 

“I’m yours,” He murmurs, pressing sloppy kisses against your warmth while you twitch under his hold. “Only yours.” You pant, holding the cotton sheets for a reprise as his tongue makes figure eights around you, how he sucks and nips at your sensitive bud. He moves, sliding a finger into you; his eyes stuck on your face as your back arches. It’s an adjustment, just as it had been the first time you’d done this. 

Your body had almost forgotten the feeling of his fingers inside of you, how skillful they’d been during your marriage. How he knew your body inside and out, what points to press on, and how fast to go. He maintains a rhythm that makes you cry, your arm across your eyes as you try to compose yourself. Not let yourself come undone so fast. 

“Simon,” You breathe, trying to get to your elbows but he starts moving his finger. He's pushing and pulling, curling inside of you and it makes you fall back on the bed. He shudders, that tone in your voice, that feeling on his finger, the taste on his tongue. It’s all he’s ever wanted; it’s what kept him going all these years. “I need you,” You cry, eyes closed as your stomach tightens. He adds another finger, the added pressure makes your jaw drop. 

“You have me,” He swears. “Look at me, please,” You try, honestly you do, but the tightness reaches a high and your eyes screw shut. Your fingers tighten around his hair, your voice echoes in the room and Simon feels you clench around him. He almost laughs, not because it hadn’t taken much to push you to the edge but because he’d already come. It hadn’t taken anything, all it took was you saying his name and he spilled into the bedsheets. 

“You okay, moon?” He asks while crawling on top of you, his lips leaving scattered kisses across your body. You nod, face blissed out and eyes watery. “Can you take another?” 

“I can take a million more,” You breathe and he laughs, head dropping between your neck. You laugh along, legs raising as he bites your skin. He moves so he’s holding himself up with one hand, his other grabs his dick as it hardens again. 

“You sure?” He asks and you nod, kissing his shoulder. 

“I can take it,” You moan, feeling the tip move across your folds. It slips and prods before he eventually pushes inside in one fluid motion. Your back arches, pushing your chest against his as he fills you. 

“Full, ‘m so full,” You pant against him and he nods, moving your hair from your face. 

“Full ‘n’ tight f’ me, yeah?” He teases, slowly rolling his hips against yours. He relishes in watching your expressions, how your mouth drops open and you’re unable to control the sounds you make. “Waited so long f’ me, didn’t you?” As he’s speaking, he raises up from you, his right hand holding your stomach down while the left starts rubbing soft circles on your clit. “So patient, my love. Thank you.” 

His eyes dip down, looking at the bulge in your stomach as he slowly enters and exits you. He moans at the sight, eyes closing for a brief moment as he begins to pick up pace. You struggle to look at him, one hand holding the wooden headboard behind you while the other loosely holds the wrist that’s circling you. 

“Missed you s’much,” He moans. “Missed all of you.” He slurs, leaning down to kiss you. He bites your bottom lip before his lips capture yours, his hips pressing against your own with each thrust. “Gods, you’re so tight.” He grunts as he pulls away, moving your left leg to be over his shoulder while the right leg sits at his hip. He speeds up, twitching as your moans only grow louder. Your nails drag against his chest and circle to his back. 

He feels his scars under your nails, the sensitive skin prickling hot as you open his flesh. He hisses, the pain far easier to manage than anything he’s faced while away but so different. So loving. 

“Inside me,” You moan, finally able to look at him as you bite your bottom lip. It’s throbbing from the pain of him biting it but you don’t care. “Inside me, Si, please.”

“Who am I to deny you, my king?” He grins and then drops his head down to your neck, feeling your walls tighten around him. You hear him whimper and moan against you and it only eggs you on. He’d chased that feeling for years, spilling inside of you as your high starts approaching. He continues for you, continuing his bruising pace until your body stops moving, your mouth falls open and your breathing goes ragged. Tenderly, as he always used to do, Simon holds you close to him. Your head rests against his chest so you can listen and feel his heart beating against your ear. 

His hand stops circling your clit as he slowly pulls out from inside you. The sounds that come from him and you spur him on more but he contains himself. Instead, he watches as his cum leaks from you. On instinct, he pushes it back inside, loving the way your legs twitch when he does. 

“Do you need a break?” He asks, eyeing the sweat on your brow. You inhale, thinking about it before shaking your head. 

“I can take more,” You swear and he raises his eyebrow. “Please, Simon.” 

“Your wish is my command.”

[saioratral]

salvatore - itoshi sae being a romantic genius cause i said so warning: none + aged up! itoshi sae note: i still cant believe the fishi, the legend might i add, asked ME.. ME for a collab write. am i dreaming? i completely went off topic btw cause that song made me confused

link to goatshi's ver (you better read it) also forgot to tag the goat @fishii-writes

expensive cologne floated through the entire penthouse, filling the air with its rich scent after a perfume bottle shattered. the owner shrugs, it’s like pocket change for him, you laugh at his nonchalant attitude, settling to stand in the balcony until the smell is gone 

the view of the spanish coastline looked almost like a sight straight out of a movie, making the penthouse felt like a castle perched on a hill, its high walls shielding you from the outside world and prying eyes. a velvet sofa rests outside to accompany you both, sae sitting and staring at you 

“cariño”, sae's deep voice brought you back to the present, to turn around and face him. “like the view?”

“i love it”, you lean on the balcony railing, eyes drifting between the view and him

his  teal eyes softened slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips, but it seemed tinged with sadness. his gaze lingered on you, as though memorizing the moment, taking the time to photograph your beauty as if you were leaving soon 

“people know how to live and forget," sae sighed, setting his glass down with a soft clink. "there are only two options" 

you arched a brow, intrigued. “and what are the two options?”

“you either forget, or you get swallowed by it," he said, voice dropping a little. "it’s everything—the past, the present, and the future” 

“.. i dont understand anything but you look handsome under the moonlight”

your laughter broke the tension, and sae raised an eyebrow, surprised by your light-hearted comment. here he was, getting sentimental, and you were busy admiring him? he watched you walk closer, your hands brushing over the soft fabric of his silk shirt. he let you feel it before you both sat down together

“i know,” you continued, resting your head on his shoulder, “everyone wants something from you. but i want you to be you. not the ‘japan golden boy,’ just… be you”

sae relaxed at your words, letting down his guard. your hand found his, fingers lacing together, and the ocean waves becoming a little lullaby for you both 

“me gusta cómo te ves esta noche”, he murmured, searching for your gaze

“oooo, spanish,” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him

“eres... como un sueño”, he said, his voice softening as he saw your bright smile 

the night continued with the both of you laughing over silly jokes and guessing what sae was speaking in spanish. you got up, changing the song to something more slow before pulling him up with you 

“what are we doing?”, sae asks, curiously watching you 

“you’ll see” 

you took his hands in yours, and as the song played, the two of you began to slow dance. the ocean seemed to quiet down, as if wanting you both to take the spotlight and the moon’s light giving the perfect photo moment

“lana del rey?” sae asked, recognizing the artist of the song

“the one and only,” you replied, resting your hand gently on his neck

at that moment, the world seemed to pause. sae leaned closer, his warm breath fanning your already flushed face. the smell of his cologne making you enter a new world, his words falling out like music, as if you understood 

“sometimes it’s better to not know all the words”, sae said softly, his eyes locked on yours 

“alright, prodigy”, you giggled. “you still sound hot” 

his gaze flickered to your lips before he leaned in even closer. his lips ghosting yours, teasing you to take the bait. the bait he had set up all along afterall, everything goes with his plan, no matter what 

“mi vida… may i?” 

you nod, feeling his lips finally meet yours, the faint taste of wine still lingering on them. the kiss begins softly, slow and teasing, just as before. sae liked taking his time, he wanted to build up the moment with you but even he could lose his patience once in a while 

the pent up desire took the best of him. with a quiet murmur, he pulled back from the kiss, his breath warm against your skin before gently guiding you toward the sofa. you follow the pull of his touch, your back sinking into the softness of the velvet cushions

he hovers above you, his finger moving to unbutton his shirt a little bit before leaning down. his lips finds your neck, kissing you slow and deliberately, the heat radiating from his touches gave you goosebumps 

“you’ll get the rest later”, he mumbles before crashing his lips back to yours  

© saioratral 2024-25 -- do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission. Any characters used in my work do not belong to me, they are created by their original creator. all images used are from pinterest

[theonottsbxtch]

PREACHER'S DAUGHTER PT 2 | MV1

an: GUYS IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS AU! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this au im so ready, it'll be tagged as #preacheraumax on my page if you want to find all the posts. i'm already writing pt 3, feel free to talk to me abt this au!!

wc: 6.3k

part one

The late-afternoon sun spilled golden light over the trailer park, painting the rusted edges of Max’s trailer with a soft glow. From the open window of his trailer, the smell of dinner drifted out—pasta, he thought, though he wasn’t sure. She’d insisted on cooking again, and he hadn’t had it in him to argue. He leaned against his car outside for a minute, absently wiping his hands with an oil-stained rag, trying—and failing—to ignore the way his T-shirt hung loose on her frame when she flitted through the tiny kitchen through the small window.

A week of this. A week of her brushing past him, all sweet smiles and quiet thank-yous, like she didn’t notice the way his pulse spiked every time she tucked her hair behind her ear or hummed while folding his clothes. He’d been respectful, giving her space, knowing she needed time to heal, but damn if she didn’t make it difficult.

The screen door creaked open, and there she was, standing on the step with a plate in her hands and a soft grin. “Dinner’s ready.”

He bit back a groan, tossed the rag onto the bike seat, and followed her inside.

They ate quietly, the scrape of forks on mismatched plates filling the small space. She’d been unusually quiet all day, and when she finally set her fork down, her eyes were a little too bright, her voice a little too soft.

“I talked to my aunt,” she said.

Max froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. He set it down carefully, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah?”

“She’s expecting me next week. She’s got a room for me, and she says I can stay as long as I need to.”

He nodded, keeping his face neutral, even though something sharp twisted in his chest. “That’s good. Safe place for you. Close to college.”

Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of the table. “You’ll take me, won’t you?”

“Of course.” His voice came out rougher than he meant it to, and her eyes flicked up, searching his face.

The week passed too quickly. Every time he came home from work to see her curled up on his couch or folding laundry to some old song on the radio, he told himself not to get used to it. But it was impossible not to, and when the day came, he couldn’t shake the weight in his chest as they loaded the last of her bags into the back of his truck.

The drive to her aunt’s house was quiet. She played with the hem of her dress, and he kept his hands tight on the wheel, like if he gripped hard enough, he could keep her there.

When they pulled up to the modest house on the edge of town, she didn’t move right away. He cut the engine, the silence stretching thin between them.

“I’ll come back on weekends,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

“Promise?”

Her head turned, and for the first time all day, she smiled—a small, fragile thing that made his chest ache. “Promise.”

He stepped out, helping her with her bags, and when they reached the porch, he couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around her waist. She stiffened for a moment, then melted into him, her head resting against his chest.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy, you know,” he murmured into her hair.

She pulled back just enough to press a kiss to his cheek, her lips warm against his stubble. His heart stopped, then kicked back up at double speed.

“Don’t forget me, Max,” she said softly.

“Not a chance.”

The door opened behind her, and a woman—her aunt, he assumed—stepped out, eyeing him curiously.

“And who’s this?”

She glanced back at Max, her eyes lingering on him like she didn’t want to let go. Then she smiled, a little sadly.

“Just a good friend.”

The words stung, but he smiled anyway, stepping back and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Take care of her,” he said, his voice low but firm.

Her aunt nodded, ushering her inside. Max stayed on the porch for a moment, watching the door close behind her, the ache in his chest settling into something heavier.

When the weekend came along, Max was in the middle of patching up an old carburetor on a kitchen counter when he heard the knock at the door. He wiped his hands on his jeans and squinted at the clock on the wall. It was late—closer to eight than six—but the knock came again, firm and impatient.

Grumbling under his breath, he crossed the room, swung the door open, and froze.

She was standing there on his porch, a duffle bag slung over her shoulder, her hair pulled back in that effortless way that always drove him crazy. She smiled up at him, all innocent charm and a hint of mischief, like she hadn’t just made his heart stop.

“Hey,” she said, stepping past him and into the trailer without waiting for an invitation.

“Hey?” he echoed, spinning to follow her. “What are you doing here? You were supposed to call.”

She dropped the bag onto his couch, her smile not faltering in the slightest. “It’s the weekend, isn’t it? I promised I’d come back.”

“Yeah, but—” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to sound stern. “You’re not supposed to just show up. I could’ve come and picked you up, you know.”

She waved him off, heading toward the kitchen. “I’m not helpless, Max. I caught a bus. Besides, I liked the idea of surprising you.”

Max sighed, leaning against the counter as she poked around his cabinets, clearly unimpressed. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Hmm.” She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes twinkling. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For not fainting when I walked in here.” She gestured to the cluttered counters and the pile of laundry shoved into the corner. “Honestly, the state of this place would make half the church faint.”

Max smirked, crossing his arms. “Well, my cleaning fairy hasn’t been around this week.”

She turned back to him, arching an eyebrow. “Your cleaning fairy?”

“Yeah, little thing. Shows up unannounced, makes herself at home, organises my life for free.” He shrugged, his voice teasing. “She’s gotten kinda bossy, though.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t fight the grin spreading across her face. “Well, your cleaning fairy is back.”

“Don’t.” His voice softened, and she looked up at him in surprise. “Don’t clean, okay? You don’t have to do all that. You’re not here to look after me.”

“I like it.”

Her words were simple, but they hit him harder than they should have. She liked being here, liked taking care of him, even if he didn’t deserve it.

Before he could think of how to respond, she stepped closer, her hand brushing his arm. Then, leaning up on her toes, she kissed his cheek, quick and light.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” she said softly.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his throat tight. “Anytime.”

Her fingers lingered on his arm for a moment before she turned away, diving into the mess with a determination that made him smile despite himself.

He leaned against the wall, watching her, his heart feeling lighter for the first time in a week. She was impossible, infuriating, and everything he couldn’t stop thinking about.

“I was supposed to go out tonight,” he finally said.

She glanced back at him, her hands covered in soap. “Oh?”

“Yeah, Danny called earlier. Said he wanted to hit the bar. I told him I might swing by.” He paused, watching her reaction.

She didn’t seem fazed, just smiled. “You should go. It’s fine.”

He frowned. “I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

She rinsed a plate, setting it on the drying rack with a satisfying clink. “Max, I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself, you know.”

“That’s not the point.”

Her gaze softened as she turned to face him, drying her hands on a dish towel. “I know you want to stay. But you shouldn’t put your whole life on hold just because I’m here.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but she stepped closer, her expression gentle but firm. “Go out. Have fun. I’m not going anywhere.”

For a moment, he debated pushing back. The idea of leaving her here, even for a few hours, felt wrong. But the quiet certainty in her voice eased something in his chest.

“Okay,” he relented. “But only if you promise to text me if you need anything.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a playful smile on her lips. “Yes, daddy.”

He shot her a mock glare as he grabbed his jacket and keys. At the door, he turned back to her, his hand lingering on the frame. “Don’t clean anything, all right? Just relax.”

“Sure,” she said, a little too quickly.

He narrowed his eyes at her, but she waved him off with a laugh, and he finally stepped out into the night.

When Max got to the bar, it was loud and crowded, the kind of place Max usually thrived in, but tonight felt different. Danny was mid-sentence about something—or someone—when Max’s attention drifted again.

He found himself staring at his beer, her voice echoing in his head. I like it here.

“Max, you listening?” Danny nudged him with an elbow.

“Yeah, yeah,” Max muttered, though he wasn’t. His mind was back at the trailer, wondering if she’d actually taken a break or if he’d come home to find everything spotless.

“Man, you’ve been spaced out all night. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” Max lied, draining the last of his beer. “I gotta head out.”

Danny raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. “Suit yourself.”

When Max got back to the trailer, the place didn’t feel like his.

The counters were wiped clean, the laundry folded and stacked neatly, and even the perpetually sticky spot on the floor by the fridge was gone. He sighed, shaking his head as he locked the door behind him.

“Stubborn,” he muttered, though a smile tugged at his lips.

His gaze landed on the couch, and there she was, curled up under one of his old blankets, her chest rising and falling in soft, even breaths.

“Of course,” he whispered, his voice soft as he crouched beside her.

Carefully, he slid his arms under her, lifting her with ease. She stirred, her head resting against his shoulder as he carried her to the bed.

“Max?” she murmured sleepily.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, his voice low.

“I wanted to wait up,” she whispered, her words slurring slightly.

“I know.” He laid her down gently, pulling the blanket over her.

He moved to the dresser, rummaging for a clean shirt to sleep in when her voice, still soft but more awake, stopped him.

“You usually just sleep in boxers.”

He turned, eyebrows raised. “Noticed that, huh?”

She smiled, her eyes half-lidded. “I don’t mind if you do.”

For a second, he didn’t move, her words hanging between them like an unspoken promise. Then he chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

Her smile widened, but she was already drifting back to sleep.

Max sighed, tugging his shirt off and tossing it onto the chair. He slid under the blanket beside her, careful not to disturb her. As her breathing evened out again, he let himself relax, the weight of the night fading as he listened to the quiet.

She was here. And for now, that was enough.

The warmth was the first thing Max noticed as he stirred awake. His trailer was always cold in the mornings, the thin walls doing little to keep the night chill at bay, but now there was a soft, comforting heat pressed against his side. He cracked one eye open and immediately froze.

She was curled into him, her head resting on his chest, one arm draped across his torso like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her breath was slow and steady, her face relaxed in sleep, and her fingers clutched lightly at the fabric of his shirt.

Max’s heart thudded hard against his ribs, a deep ache settling in his chest. She fit so perfectly against him, like she’d always belonged there. He lay still, not wanting to wake her, though he couldn’t stop his hand from coming to rest lightly on her back.

The quiet moment stretched, his mind racing with thoughts he wasn’t ready to face, until the smell hit him. Warm, buttery, sweet—pancakes? His brow furrowed as he sniffed the air. Was he imagining things?

He shifted slightly, and her eyes fluttered open. She blinked up at him, her expression soft and drowsy, and he swallowed hard.

“Morning,” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

“Morning,” he replied, his voice low. “You smell that?”

She smiled, untangling herself from him and sitting up with a yawn. “Yeah. Pancakes.”

He frowned, sitting up as well. “I didn’t even know I had stuff to make pancakes.”

She turned to him, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “You didn’t. I snuck out earlier and grabbed a few things.”

He blinked. “You went shopping? Without waking me?”

“You looked peaceful,” she said with a shrug, climbing out of bed, not bothering to put the skirt she must have left with earlier back on. 

He was sure that his cause of death was going to be her walking around his trailer in one of his shirts and her stupid cotton panties.

He followed her to the kitchen, still trying to wrap his head around the idea of her slipping out and coming back unnoticed. Sure enough, there was a stack of golden pancakes on the counter, a jar of syrup beside it, and two mismatched plates waiting to be served.

“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, though there was no heat in his words.

“Thank you,” she replied with a grin, flipping the last pancake onto the stack before turning to him.

“What’s the occasion?” he asked, gesturing to the pancakes.

“It’s Sunday,” she said simply, as if that explained everything.

“Yeah, and?”

Her smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of something—nervousness, maybe—crossing her face. “It’s church day.”

The realisation hit him like a freight train. Of course. It was her first Sunday since she’d left home. A pang of guilt tugged at him as he imagined what this day must mean to her.

“Right,” he said softly. “Big day.”

She nodded, fiddling with the edge of his shirt.

“Do you want me to come with you?” The words were out before he could stop them.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and he immediately regretted it. “I mean, I know I’m not exactly the church-going type, but—”

She cut him off with a laugh, her expression softening. “Max, you don’t even own a church-appropriate outfit.”

He scratched the back of his neck, glancing toward his wardrobe. She wasn’t wrong. His idea of formal wear was a clean pair of jeans and a button-up he hadn’t worn in years.

“You sure you don’t want me to tag along?” he asked, feeling strangely out of his depth.

She shook her head, her voice gentle. “I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine. You can wait outside for me this week if you want.”

“Deal,” he said, relief and a hint of disappointment mingling in his chest.

She smiled again, stepping closer and resting a hand on his arm. “Thank you for offering, though. It means a lot.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, clearing his throat and looking away. “Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on you.”

She laughed, her fingers lingering on his arm for a moment before she turned back to the pancakes.

Max leaned against the counter, watching her as she plated their breakfast. She moved with a quiet confidence, her presence filling the small space in a way that felt both comforting and terrifying.

As they sat down to eat, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this Sunday—this moment—was going to stay with him long after she walked out the door.

Max didn’t know what he had with her, but he loved it. He loved every weekend she spent with him, loved the way her presence brightened his space. He loved the little things she did—the soft hum of her voice filling his trailer, the way she folded his shirts with the corners lined up perfectly, and the way she always looked at him like he was more than the guy with grease-stained hands and a rough past.

He didn’t deserve her, and he knew it. But damn if he wasn’t going to soak up every moment she gave him.

It was midweek when she surprised him. The steady rhythm of clanking tools and revving engines filled the garage as Max worked on a beat-up old Ford, grease smudged across his forearms. The day had been uneventful so far, the usual grind of repairs keeping his hands busy and his thoughts on autopilot.

Then she walked in.

He didn’t see her at first, his head buried under the hood, but the sound of her soft “Hi, Max,” was enough to make him straighten immediately, his heart giving an uncharacteristic jump.

She stood near the door, a paper bag in hand, wearing one of those sundresses that always made him weak. Her hair caught the sunlight streaming through the open garage door, and she looked so out of place among the grease and oil stains that it made him grin.

“Hey, angel,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag as he walked over to her. Without thinking, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. The scent of her shampoo—something floral and sweet—hit him, and he lingered for just a second longer than he should have.

“What’s this?” he asked, nodding toward the bag.

“Lunch,” she said simply, holding it out to him.

His brow furrowed as he took it, glancing inside. A neatly packed sandwich, an apple, and a bottle of water stared back at him. “I was fine for lunch,” he said, a little sheepishly. “You didn’t have to do this.”

Her lips curved into a knowing smile, and she crossed her arms. “A hot dog and a beer is not healthy for you, Max.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “What, you been spying on me now?”

“I’ve been paying attention,” she countered, stepping closer and poking playfully at his stomach. “You keep eating like that, and you’ll lose your figure.”

“Oh, is that what this is about?” he teased, setting the bag on a nearby workbench. He leaned down slightly, lowering his voice to a flirtatious drawl. “You trying to cop a look at my abs, angel?”

Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to retort, but before she could, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it just enough to reveal his toned stomach, a smirk playing on his lips.

Her face turned bright red, and she quickly looked away, stammering, “You’re impossible.”

“Hey, you started it,” he said with a laugh, dropping his shirt back into place. He couldn’t help but admire the way her blush crept down her neck. She was too easy to fluster, and he loved every second of it.

“I have to catch the bus back soon,” she said after a moment, still avoiding his gaze as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

The mention of her leaving tugged at something in his chest, but he nodded. “All right. Thanks for the lunch, though. Really.”

Her smile returned, softer this time. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Always.”

After she left, Max stood by the workbench for a moment, staring at the lunch bag like it was some kind of relic.

“Who was that?” a gruff voice broke his reverie.

Max turned to see his boss, Tommy, leaning against the frame of the garage’s office door, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Just a friend,” Max said, though the words tasted wrong. She was more than that, even if he couldn’t quite put a label on it.

Tommy snorted. “Yeah, sure. A friend who packs you lunch and makes you look like a lovesick puppy every time she’s around.”

“Shut up,” Max muttered, grabbing a wrench and returning to the Ford.

Tommy laughed, taking a long drag from his cigarette before speaking again. “You’ve got balls, kid. Being with the preacher’s daughter? That’s a whole mess I wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole.”

Max stiffened, but he didn’t respond.

Tommy continued, his tone softening. “But I gotta say... I haven’t seen you this happy since the day you bought that trailer. She’s good for you.”

Max glanced over his shoulder, his grip tightening on the wrench. “Yeah. She is.”

Tommy nodded, stubbing out his cigarette. “Don’t screw it up, kid.”

Max didn’t answer, but as he went under the Ford, he couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at his lips. Whatever this thing was with her, he wasn’t letting it go.

No less than a few days later she was stepping out of her last lecture of the day, her bag slung over her shoulder and her friend Sarah chattering animatedly about some party happening over the weekend. The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the campus, and the warm breeze carried the faint scent of freshly cut grass.

But then she saw it.

Parked just beyond the gates was a familiar motorbike, its polished chrome glinting in the sunlight. Leaning against it, arms crossed and looking every bit the troublemaker he was, stood Max.

Her breath hitched, a smile spreading across her face before she could stop it. He didn’t belong here—his grease-streaked jeans and leather jacket a stark contrast to the sea of students with their backpacks and books—but somehow, he looked perfect.

“Is that... your boyfriend?” Sarah asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and disbelief.

She hesitated for a split second, then shook her head. “Just a friend.” But her cheeks betrayed her, flushing pink as she adjusted her bag and headed toward him.

As she approached, Max straightened, his expression softening in a way he reserved only for her. “Milady,” he said with a playful smirk, holding out the spare helmet like a knight presenting a prize.

She laughed, her smile widening as she took the helmet from him. “You’re ridiculous,” she teased, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

He didn’t bother hiding the grin that spread across his face as she slid the helmet on. Swinging her leg over the back of the bike, she settled behind him, her arms wrapping securely around his waist.

“Hold on tight, angel,” he said, revving the engine.

The ride to her aunt’s was a familiar one now. She’d spent so many weekends at his trailer that the route was second nature, but it never lost its charm. The wind whipped past her, carrying away the stress of the day, and all she could think about was the solid warmth of Max in front of her and the way her heart felt light every time she was with him.

When they pulled up outside her aunt’s house, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting the world in hues of orange and pink. She slid off the bike, pulling the helmet off and shaking out her hair.

“Drive home safe,” she said softly, her eyes lingering on him.

“For you, always, angel,” he replied, his voice low but steady.

Her lips curved into a small, grateful smile as she turned and headed up the walkway. She glanced back once, just in time to see him watching her, the faintest hint of a smile on his face before he started the engine and roared away into the fading light.

Max never would have referred to his trailer as a home. For years, it had been little more than a roof over his head—a place to sleep and keep his stuff, nothing more. It wasn’t like the house he’d known she’d grown up in, with its creaking floors and warm kitchen smells, or even the crummy apartment he’d shared with Danny in his early twenties.

But now...

Now there were little reminders of her everywhere. A book she’d left on the coffee table, its pages dog-eared in the way she knew drove him crazy. A neatly folded throw blanket she’d brought over one chilly night. The small vase on the windowsill, holding wildflowers she’d picked on a whim.

She hadn’t moved in—not really. But every item she left behind, every small touch of hers that lingered, made the space feel warmer. More alive.

More like home.

Max sat on the couch, his gaze drifting over the room. His place was still rough around the edges—there was no hiding the peeling wallpaper or the worn linoleum floors—but with her here, even in these small ways, it felt different.

He picked up the book she’d left, turning it over in his hands. The corners were bent, and a faint scent of her perfume clung to the pages. He shook his head with a smile, setting it back down.

Yeah, he thought, leaning back against the cushions. She made it feel like home.

<3 <3 <3

Max’s life continued with her like this for another eleven months. Each day, it felt like he was living in a dream he never wanted to wake up from. They fell into a rhythm—a routine that felt as comforting as it was impossible to believe.

She was no longer just the preacher’s daughter he had met outside a Church. She was part of his life, his home. More than half the time, she stayed at his place now, spending her nights curled up on his couch, reading or laughing at some ridiculous things he'd say, more often than not in the same oversized t-shirt she’d first worn when she moved in. Her presence filled every corner of his small, humble space, making it feel less like a place where he merely existed and more like somewhere he belonged.

He had never pushed her for anything—never tried to rush her into kissing him, never demanded more than what she was willing to give. There were moments where he could feel the pull between them, when their eyes lingered a little longer or their hands brushed in ways that made his heart race, but he was patient. She had her own pace, and for once, he didn’t want to ruin it by moving too fast. She had her own life to rebuild, and he was content to be a steady presence in it.

She still went to church every Sunday, keeping that part of her life separate, even though she never spoke to her father anymore. Church was the one thing she still clung to, the only part of her old life that hadn’t unravelled completely. Max didn’t understand it—he couldn’t—but he never asked her to give it up. If it brought her peace, if it helped her hold on to a piece of herself, then he respected it. He just wished she would let him share in it, but he wasn’t going to force it.

And then, the day finally came.

Max had been saving for months, every extra penny he made going toward the dream he’d never dared to voice out loud—the dream of getting them out of the cramped, creaky trailer and into something better. A place where she didn’t have to worry about the walls being thin or the smell of grease lingering in the air. Something more... theirs.

He had found it. A small but cosy apartment uptown, with high ceilings and a view of the city skyline. It was perfect for them—quiet, private, and just far enough from everything they both needed to escape from. He’d signed the lease that morning, a rush of pride and anticipation filling his chest as he pictured her reaction.

When she walked through the door that evening, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. His heart was racing, his palms sweaty as he met her at the door.

“I got us a place,” he said, his voice thick with excitement.

She blinked, clearly caught off guard by the suddenness of his words, but the moment she saw the joy in his eyes, the realisation hit her. She stepped forward, her face lighting up with the kind of smile that made everything else fade into the background.

“Max...” she whispered, and without thinking, without hesitating, she threw her arms around him, pulling him close.

Her lips found his in an instant.

It wasn’t a soft kiss, not one of those cautious first kisses that came with hesitations or uncertainty. It was full of the weight of everything that had built up between them—the months of waiting, the slow burn of tension that had been simmering beneath the surface. Their kiss was deep, heated, urgent, as if they both had been holding their breath and were finally allowed to exhale.

Max’s hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer, feeling the heat of her body against his. He deepened the kiss, his lips claiming hers as if he had waited an eternity for this moment. He felt her fingers thread through his hair, tugging him closer, her body pressing into his with a desperation that matched his own.

It was the kind of kiss that shook him to the core, that made everything else in the world fade into the background—her soft breath against his lips, the quiet hum of the city outside, the rush of blood in his ears. All that mattered was her.

Her arms slid up around his neck, her body melting against his, and for the first time in a year, Max felt like he had finally found the place where he belonged.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads resting together, their breaths ragged, she looked at him with something that could only be described as wonder. Her eyes were wide, her lips swollen from their kiss, and there was a softness in her gaze that made his heart stutter in his chest.

“I’ve been waiting for that,” she breathed, her voice thick with emotion.

Max smiled, his thumb brushing gently across her cheek. “Yeah, me too.”

There was a moment of silence, the kind that spoke volumes in the space between them. Her hands lingered on his chest, and he could feel the rapid beat of her heart against his. He had never known a kiss could feel so much like coming home.

He cleared his throat, his voice hoarse. “We... we really did it, huh?”

She nodded, her smile widening. “We did.”

Max had never been one for big, sweeping gestures. But with her, it was different. Everything about her made him want to be more than the guy who had nothing. He wanted to be the man who made her feel safe, cherished, loved. He wanted to give her everything—everything she deserved.

He kissed her again, slower this time, his lips brushing over hers as if savouring the sweetness of the moment. When they finally pulled apart, he smiled down at her, his hand gently cupping her face.

“I’m so damn lucky to have you,” he said softly.

She grinned, her eyes sparkling with something he couldn’t quite place, but it was the kind of look that made his heart stutter in his chest. “No, Max,” she whispered, her voice full of warmth. “I’m the lucky one.”

And for the first time, in a long time, Max allowed himself to believe it. He wasn’t just living with her. He wasn’t just sharing space with her.

He was building a life with her. A life that, even in its quiet moments, felt like everything.

And for the first time, he realised what home truly was.

The kiss lingered in the air between them, warm and slow, as if time had stretched to accommodate the overwhelming intensity of the moment. Max’s hands rested gently on her waist, feeling the soft press of her body against his, and the faint sound of their shared breath was the only noise in the room. They were tangled together—hearts racing, bodies melting into each other—as though nothing else mattered.

For the first time in a year, Max felt completely alive. Completely whole.

She pulled away slightly, breathless, her cheeks flushed and eyes wide, still processing the heat of the kiss, the weight of what it meant. Her lips parted, but before she could speak, he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers one last time, a soft whisper against her skin.

“Marry me.”

The words were so quiet, so soft, that for a second, she thought she had imagined them. She blinked, drawing back slightly to look at him, her chest tightening with uncertainty. “What?”

Max smiled at her confusion, a hint of something deeper in his eyes. His hands gently cupped her face, his thumb running along her jawline as if trying to memorise every detail of her. He leaned in, his lips hovering just above hers as he whispered again, more seriously this time, “Marry me, angel.”

She froze for a heartbeat, thinking it was some sort of joke, some playful teasing. The idea of Max, the guy who’d never believed in love or commitment, asking her something like that was almost impossible to believe.

But the sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability she had never seen from him before, made her heart skip a beat. There was no hint of jest, no trace of humour. He meant it.

Max saw the hesitation in her eyes and gently kissed her lips again, his voice rough and low as he pulled back just enough to speak.

“I never thought I’d make it past twenty-one,” he began, his gaze intense, almost haunted, as if these words were ones he had carried inside him for far too long. “I’ve been lost for so long. I didn’t think I’d ever have a reason to keep going, to fight for anything.”

She could hear the rawness in his voice, the weight of everything he had lived through—the loneliness, the struggles, the doubts. His eyes searched hers, looking for understanding, for a connection that only she could give.

“But you, angel...” His voice softened, but the words still hit her like a wave, sweeping away any doubts. “You’ve given me hope. You’ve given me a reason to live. A reason to fight for something better.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable—it was peaceful, full of something unspoken, something they both felt but had never truly expressed until now.

She could feel her heart racing, her emotions swelling inside her chest, a warmth spreading through her like wildfire. Max—rough-around-the-edges Max, the guy who had been her rock for so long—was here, telling her that she had been the reason he had found the strength to keep going.

With her, he had found his reason.

“I...” Her voice faltered, thick with emotion, and she cupped his face in her hands, leaning in closer. “Yes, Max. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before he kissed her again, this time softer, more tender, as though sealing a promise. She melted into it, her fingers threading through his hair, holding on to him as if this moment was the only one that mattered.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathless, the weight of their promise hanging in the air, Max’s hands moved slowly down her body. He smiled as he reached for her purity ring, the symbol of the life she had left behind. With the gentleness of someone who understood the significance of the gesture, he took the ring off her finger.

“I’ve got something for you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Max took one of his necklaces, a simple silver chain that had always felt like a part of him, and threaded her ring onto it. He placed it around his neck, letting the cool metal of the ring rest against her skin. “This is you now,” he said quietly, his eyes not leaving hers. “And I’m the only one who gets to wear it.”

Her fingers gently touched the ring, feeling the warmth of her promise against him.

Then, Max reached down to his own hand, taking off a ring—one he never took off, the one that had been his symbol of defiance for years. He hadn’t given it to anyone else, and he certainly hadn’t planned on giving it to anyone. But now, with her, it felt like the only thing that made sense.

With a steady hand, he reached for the cross necklace she always wore, taking it between his fingers and slipping the ring onto it. The cool metal of his ring clicked against the chain, its weight heavier than it had ever felt before.

“This one’s for you,” he said softly, brushing her hair behind her ear as he tucked the cross back against her skin. “Because we’re in this together now. No going back.”

She stared at the ring hanging from her necklace, her heart swelling with a mix of emotions—love, disbelief, and gratitude. She had never imagined a life like this. But now, with him, she couldn’t imagine it any other way.

“I’m ready, Max,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m ready to start this new part of my life. With you.”

Max pulled her into his arms, holding her close as if she was the most precious thing in the world, and whispered against her hair, “I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you.”

And in that moment, with her purity ring around his neck and his own ring on her cross necklace, it was clear to both of them that this was only the beginning.

The beginning of forever.

taglist: @sinofwriting @le-le-lea @vanicogh @iamred-iamyellow @rayaskoalaland @spookyanamurdock @iimplicitt

[ellieslob]

★ streamer ellie!

ways to help palestine!!!

S★ she started with fornite and minecraft gameplays but went viral for playing girly video games and screaming with pure rage and desperation if she loses or if her chat tells her the outfit she made was ugly asf😭

S★ she deadass will say “u guys clearly don’t know about fashion like i do” n then pull outfits like this:

S★ she used to be so fucking afraid that her face reveal went like dream’s that she posponed that shit for like a year. when she finally did it she ended the stream, turned off her phone and went to bed covering her body completely, while sniffing and crying “my career is over ”

S★ after her face revealed her account went even more viral, people started to make thirst traps of her and edits, videos, even fanfics, she got a little more comfortable with showing her face. her favorite edits were to songs like ride, baby by me, hey daddy (daddy’s home) and a song in spanish called vaquero, they were just so funny to her😭

iloveellie: she’s daddying so hard‼️

ewisinthechat: aw you guys really see me as a father figure?😺🫶

brondon444: 😭

kvcjjsaj: 😭

loverboydsa: 😭😭😭

“hey why is everyone crying in the chat, is everyone okay?”

S★ she really loves the cat emojis, specially this one 😻

S★ out of all her platforms (aside from twitch) she uses twitter the most, she tweets without a second thought in that head, without filter, like zero hesitation and then apologizes if she said something way too controversial.

ewisinthechat2: have you had that feeling when someone is so stupid you want to stab your eye with a fork? #kys

ewisinthechat2: k, i guess u have not😅…

S★ she was practically new to tiktok, so the first moths she had her likes public, she didn’t even know that was possible on the app. but if you click on it all you could see were shit post and memes that a dad would like, all except for a big section of aprox thirteen videos, one after the other, all with the same girl.

sckerforellie18: did u guys saw ellie’s likes? i think she’s stalking that poor girl😭

slaybabesew: HAHAH WAIT IS REAL, IS SHE HER GILFRIEND???

elliesaheymamasg: she’s so hot wait😩

heyemogirlbb: it’s her @girlypop66

S★ the chat started to tag you to every single one of her videos on tiktok, her photos on instagram, tagging you on things like “hi, could you please date my mom?🤗” or “my new mommie😻” EVEN in her questionable tweets telling you “we know she’s crazy but give her a chance😭”

S★ one day you waked up to your phone being practically broken from all the notifications, you still had your little pink iphone 6 and you had to buy another one because of it.

Instagram

girlypop: hi um i don’t think we really know each other but people are tagging me on your videos😭 love them though

S★ ellie was in a stream, the chat had to make her laugh and spit the water so she was reacting to videos that her chat had send her. when that notification appear on the screen, she read it, gulped the water, looked dead ass serious at the camera and turned off the stream.

elliewilliasm: omg hi, im so sorry i didn’t know, I’ll tell them to spot

elliewilliasm: spot*

elliewilliasm: STOP**😭

you laughed in your new phone, she was funny, and for what you had seen in all the posts that you were tagged on, very pretty too.

girlypop: hey would you like to grab coffee sometime?

ewisinthechat: TO EVERYBODY IN THE CHAT, THANK YOU, YOU GUYS ARE THE FUCKIN BEST, LOVE YALL, IM SO LUCKY TO HAVE YOU, XOXO😻😻😻😻

GIVEAWAY COMIN FUCKIN SOON💯💯‼️

S★ she was exhausted when she jumped to her bed, after all the crying, screaming, jumping and the extreme tweeting that just said “YESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYES”, she unlocked her phone again.

elliewiliasm: yeah sure :)

REBLOG AND COMENT

IF YOU WANT TO BE IN THE TAG LIST

[starringthesturniolos]

baby it's cold outside - chris sturniolo

summary: you are forced to share the air mattress with your long time enemy, chris, on a camping trip.

"Since you two wanted to argue the whole way up, you guys get to share a tent together. Yay!!", Matt says while jumping up and down in fake excitement.

On the way to the camp site, Chris and I did argue a lot. But in my defense, the idiot kept pushing my buttons! He kept turning my least favorite songs on and blasting them at full volume so I couldn't sleep. When we stopped at 7/11 he grabbed the last of my favorite drink and gulped it down in front of me. When we finally arrived, he dumped all my heavy bags on the ground and laughed at me struggling to pick them up. It was like he was asking to get yelled at, or like he wanted me to be mad at him.

"No, Matt please!" I grab onto his arm desperately. "I'm sorry but please don't make me stay with him!"

Matt rolls his eyes at me and folds his arms over his chest. "Would you rather sleep outside then?" I scoff and shoot a glare towards Chris who isn't standing too far behind Matt. "Yeah, sounds about right."

"Sleep outside then. That's fine by me, princess." Chris sneers responding to my comment while turning his back on me to set up his tent. I take three deep breathes and close my eyes. I am not going to let this idiot keep getting under my skin. I stomp away from Matt and Chris over to the log Nick was sitting on and he laughs at me.

"Well hello, Mrs. Grumpy"

"Oh shut up" you sigh.

I plop my bag down on the floor, my chest heaving from hauling ass. I had to carry my heavy bags all the way from where Chris dropped them earlier today to the tent. He was laying all comfortable in his set up of blankets and the sight alone pissed me off.

"Thought you were sleeping outside tonight. Is it because you're scared of the animals, princess?" he sneers out the nickname like I'm more of an ogre than a princess. Why is he always so fucking annoying.

"Leave me alone, and I leave you alone. I'm going to bed. I'm tired and I'm not here for the bullshit." I say as I reach into my bag for my sleeping bag. My sleeping bag. Holy shit.

"Shit, shit, shit" you dump out your bag and see no sleeping bag in sight. Its cold out and the thought of sleeping without any covering made a shiver crawl down your spine.

"What is it now??" Chris sits up and turns the flashlight on in an exasperated manner. You sigh deeply. "It's nothing, go to bed Chris." He shrugs and lies down again, turning his back to me. I didn't need to give him another reason to tease me tonight. I flop on the ground on the opposite side of the tent from him and curl up into a ball. I can feel myself shivering but I try to ignore it.

Thinking back on when I first met the triplets in 3rd grade, I remember how cute I thought Chris was. I met Nick and Matt on the bus ride home from school one day when Chris was sick. The next day, me, Matt, and Nick were playing tag at recess when Chris walked out with a doctors note in hand. He walked over to his brothers and my heart skipped a beat. Immediately, Nick and Matt went to introduce me. "Chris! This is-" before Nick could even finish his sentence, Chris was already talking. "Well, isn't she a looker" he chuckles sarcastically while looking down at me, clearly judging me. I also looked down at my two loose braids and hand me down clothes and sigh. "Am I really that ugly" I thought to myself. I knew I probably shouldn't have let a boy that I hardly knew opinion get to me, but the tears came nonetheless." I wanted him to like me" you thought to yourself, wallowing in self pity. I was cut out of my trance when Chris started to laugh sporadically. "What? What is it?" I mutter looking at Chris and then too Matt and Nick who look embarrassed by their brothers rude antics. "Nothing, nothing. Its just... You're even uglier when you cry!" he starts laughing even harder. I felt myself start to shake from embarrassment and anger. Who did he think he was. "Your mean!" I stomped my foot which only made him laugh harder. I couldn't take anymore harassment in one day, and turned on my heel and ran away with Nick and Matt right on my heels.

After all these years he still hasn't changed. "Y/N, HELLO!!" Chris yells bringing me back to the present. "What?".

"Where the fuck is your sleeping bag?" he asks. I sit up from where I was laying to face him. He was now laying down with his body faced in my direction.

"Oh my God, clearly not here or I'd be using it, dumbass." I roll my eyes and go to lay back down.

"Lose the attitude and come stay in the bed with me" he mutters before I can return to my balled up position. My mouth flys open. Since when did he care if I was cold or not. "Wait, what?" I say in shock.

"Get the fuck up and come here. Nick and Matt will punch me in the throat if you catch a cold." he says nonchalantly as if it's normal for people that hate each other to share a bed. I roll my eyes again. I'm not sharing a bed with an asshole, even if it causes me to freeze to death. "No thanks" I scoff, preparing to lay back down again.

He sighs exasperated and moves from his comfortable position in his blankets. He stands up and starts walking towards me. I feel my throat start to tense up. "What are you doing?" fear creeping into my tone. Once he reaches me, he grips underneath my thighs with one hand and tries to support my back with the other. Desperately, I try to wiggle out of his grasp but too no avail. I am in his arms in no time. It takes everything in me to not sink into his warm chest. I didn't realize how cold I was until this exact moment. Suddenly I start to panic again when he starts to walk because I have no idea where he's taking me. Then I think of the worst. "Are you seriously gonna throw me out the tent. Come on Chris, do you really hate me that much??"

He stops moving entirely and he looks down at me. God the way he looks looking down at me is enough to be in any girls dream. Too bad he's just a big dickhead. "You weren't listening to me. So now I'm forcing you to stay with me on the air mattress." he pauses before continuing, almost like he doesn't want to say what he's going to say next. He sighs and continues on, "You were shivering really bad while you were in La La land. I didn't want you too freeze anymore." He had a glimmer of concern in eyes when he said it and that's all it takes for me to believe him. I hate the way my cheeks warm up from the honest confession. It meant he cared, and it shouldn't matter to me but it does.

He starts to walk again, seeing I had no response and plops me down on the mattress. He flops down right beside me, and even though it's warmer with the blankets, it's not enough. Another shiver racks through me. "Y/n??" Chris doesn't even try to hide the concern in his voice. "Do you need me closer? Will that help?" he looks at me waiting for my call. The thought of Chris getting close to me is enough to make my head spin. And as much as I wish being in Chris' arms would repeal me, it doesn't. Instead I feel my heart skip a beat like they did all those years ago. Get it together Y/n.

"Yes" I whisper. Chris doesn't need to be told twice and he pulls me impossibly close to his body. He grabs my thigh and puts it around his waist and then pulls my head into his chest. All I can sense is him. Instead of it annoying me, I lean into his scent and his warmth. In my heart I know that even if it was the hottest night of all time, I'd still enjoy being wrapped in him like this. And I hated myself for it. I melt into his arms and feel myself getting lulled to sleep. Just as I'm about to fall asleep I feel his lips graze my hair. " I could never hate you, angel, not in a million years. I'm sorry". And with those words, I fall asleep in his arms.

Send in request, I could always use some more inspo

Love, Mya

[lucysarah-c]

Let’s say Levi has a crush on reader but someone else also is pursuing reader. This someone else could be on a similar level to Levi but not necessarily his friend. I just more like to see what people think Levi would act like if he finally talks himself into pursuing reader but turns out he has “competition” in a way

Thank you if you answer this 🫶

Gasp Ah…. I LOVE THIS.

How are you?! Sorry for the late reply! Don't thank me for answering! Thank you for coming to my blog and asking.

Mh, LOVE IT. You know… have you listened to the song "You Belong With Me" by Taylor Swift? Haha, well, that's Levi LMAO.

I feel, with a hand on my heart, y'all know I love this man, but he simply cannot compete with someone in any field related to social implications. Has Levi finally talked himself into pursuing someone and trying to get his feelings across? Great, he thinks—I'll clarify—HE THINKS that he's being rather OBVIOUS. Maybe for those who know him, they would also notice Levi is interested in this person because he's not behaving like his regular self. But for the poor reader he's trying to court? … he's simply being nice HAHA.

This man would think that stopping by that person's job (if they have a bakery, tea shop, etc., for example) regularly, buying, and having a very small chit-chat is "flirting." He thinks that, if this person is a scout, asking them if they need anything from downtown or if they want a tea is CLEAR that he wants something with them. No.

So if someone else is pursuing the person he loves and has more social skills than him (which is not something hard to have), there's a high chance that person would take the lead in the "race for the reader's heart." Maybe they are more outgoing, charismatic, extroverted, etc., and they take the lead. Levi would be jealous, 100%. He would get grumpy, angry, etc., but always at himself.

I can picture him muttering and cursing at himself under his breath while working, "I'm an idiot, I'm stupid. YoUr HaIR DoESn't lOOk ThAt ShITTy toDAY," mocking his own voice, and then groaning in frustration. "… my mom must have dropped me as a baby or Kenny's kicks really damaged my brain. I can't be this stupid," realizing that this other person says "smooth shit," as he would call it, and he simply can't.

Especially because Levi's love language is acts of service… mixed with degradation lmao. "Give that, you're going to drop it," and he will carry stuff for them. "You look like shit, tch, just sit down, I'll do it," and he brews them a tea and brings them something to eat.

Levi is a grower in people. I can 100% see him having feelings for this person for months, years perhaps. Maybe they even consider and go for a relationship with Levi's competitor, and it doesn't work out, etc., and they have grown close to Levi. Something he says or does makes the reader snap and say, "… are you flirting with me, Captain?"

Levi would look stoic as ever but slightly defeated mixed with embarrassment and say, "Yeah, for the past year. Thank you for finally noticing."

(extra scene)

Levi alone in his office: "Can't you see that I'm the one who understands you? Been here all along. So, why can't you see? You belong with me."

I'll tag people on this one because I had a blast writing it. Thank you so much, you made my birthday lmao.

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthor @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @kikarouflames @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 @levicansteponme Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[kousanosgf]

men, minors dni

sevika x f!reader

this was written for a request by @moonylvs ᜊ about sweet but secretly strong reader. also this is heavily inspired by laufey's vibes.

tags: fluff that's it i guess haha

you weren't someone interesting. another one of those semi popular zaunites singers. performing your jazzy lovey dovey songs couple days a week in a bar. for sevika you were a background noise as she came and went for another round of drinks, a game or a more of a casual business meeting.

it's not like she didn't notice. it, probably, was impossible to ignore your presence, always sticking for an hour or two after your shift, chatting with your friends. it seemed like everyone was at least acquainted with you. you were a real social butterfly, flying lightly between tables, paying attention to everything the visitors had to say. sevika even shared a word with you the first time she came and you made sure to introduce yourself.

cute. all that she thought. nothing more really. and if you were a little more pushy with her, the overall sweet image of you would've turned annoying quickly.

another day, another evening at the bar. sevika chose to spend it with the group of friends after work, catching up. though there was nothing much to discuss. the week was relatively calm for all of them. sevika's eye wondered, scanning the rest of the patrons as she was half-listening to her friend's story. her gaze got caught on you in the passing. already finished with your set, you were lounging at the bar counter with the glass of your favorite cocktail in hand, talking to some guy. nothing new around here too, sevika thought. as hours passed, she continued to look around occasionally, wishing to go home and end this boring evening.

finally, something caught her interest. your frame was becoming more dense, little high-pitched giggles that were reaching her ears gave off strained tones every time sevika slid her gaze your way. she didn't paid it much attention at first. who knew how you reacted to your dates, maybe it's just an anxiety. now, though, it was pretty clear you didn't want to be there and the man wouldn't get a hint. no one else seem to notice your discomfort to come save you, but it's not really her deal. your fault for having no spine to tell the guy to fuck off.

her calm evening seems to come to an end when she notices the man slides his palm up your shin. sevika sighs and stands up begrudgingly. damn her sense of justice.

"sevika, where'er you going?" her friend calls out, making her turn to reply.

she has no time to do so though, because a heavy thump breaks bar's chill atmosphere. sevika's head whips around. and there you are, standing with eyes full off rage above the unwelcome companion.

"are you insane?" the man screams, holding onto his jaw in pain, stumbling to stand up.

"not my problem you don't understand human language!" you raise your voice.

sevika doesn't have much time to think everything through, her legs already on the way to you. she grabs guy's shoulder roughly when he tries to reach for you.

"back off, the woman said no" as he realizes who's speaking to him, he mumbles something bitterly and hurries away, too afraid of silco's second in command.

sevika's attention now on you. "you okay?"

"yeah- yeah, sorry." you shake your hand, something hurts from the punch you gave the man. one of the waitress, your friend possibly, runs up to both of you, fussing over, suggesting to use the stuff room to check over yourself.

"you good. maybe gonna bruise a little." sevika gives her verdict and lets go off your hand. "he's one of the finn's, those guys have metal all over. probably had his teeth or jaw done."

"thanks again." you say, wiggling your fingers. "i'm sorry to cause a scene."

sevika can only huff out. you just got harassed and that's your response?

"didn't know you actually had it in you." she says instead. "that was a nice hit."

"ah- my older sister taught me." you laugh embarrassed.

sevika walks you home that day, to "make sure you won't get into another trouble" as she says to you and herself. you share stories on the way, mostly about your siblings. "we use to quarrel a lot and i was the youngest so i always was losing fights, until my sis showed me some moves." it makes sevika laugh genuinely, imagine you as a child arguing with your brothers and sisters.

and that's where it starts for her. she can't stop thinking about you. sevika doesn't understand how a woman like you can hold so much gentleness and still have that edge underneath. her memories wander to that fire in your eyes.

weeks pass and she finds herself dropping by more and more, waiting to spend some time with you. it hits her one day, when she comes into the bar only for one of the employees to immediately inform her you don't work today, that she might have a problem. (it's called a crush, but she's too stubborn to call it that.)

a month goes by and she does nothing with it. either too busy to think about her feelings or spending her days in doubt. there's not a chance you with your bossa nova voice, denim overalls and sweet smiles would choose such a harsh and rough around the edges woman.

it all comes to an end one day. catching sevika alone, when her friends went out for a smoke (and, yes, she stopped since you mentioned you don't like smokers much).

she sits on the sofa, playing with an ice cube in her glass, when a shadow covers her and she raises her eyes, you standing over her, looming, your fist diggs into the hip, like you're some angry kids cartoon character.

"so? how long do i have to wait before you invite me on a date?"

sevika chokes on her drink a little, surprised. there's that fire again, brows creased, displeased, maybe even angry. sevika takes a moment to catch her breath, more because of the way you look and not her drink.

"yes... i-" she literally doesn't know how to react and stumbles over her words. she tries to compose herself. "i was actually about to-"

"good then." you don't let her finish, looking more like you're about to lecture her than be happy that something in your relationship moved. "cause girls started to make fun of me for running around you. hope you're free tomorrow evening."

sevika nods but you don't see it, already off to the little stage, to play the next songs.

a chain of laughter rings out, the waitresses run off as sevika turns to glare their way.

[lovelynim]

Fanfiction

Zenless Zone Zero - Asaba Harumasa (feat. Reader x Harumasa)

A/N: I don't even know where I start to explain the idea behind this one. Well, fanfics are canon in ZZZ and Harumasa is aware his fans write fics for him so... yeah.

Summary: Harumasa is reading a fanfic at work.

Word count: 1844 words

Harumasa sighed, slouching in his chair while the report pages rested empty on top of his desk. There was still about two hours before he could finally clock out and his body simply refused to waste its energy on filling those insufferable documents.

He already had to risk his life fighting ethereals, exploring hollows and doing medical check-ups, why did he also have to worry about explaining how any of those went? Why did it even matter in the first place? They just happened, weren’t the higher ups glad enough that he saved the day?

“Asaba-kun,” a cold, firm female voice came from behind him, making Harumasa jump in his seat and sit back up straight, dragging him from his thoughts back to reality. “Are you making progress with your reports? It would be troublesome to request another deadline extension after a two month delay.”

“D-deputy chief, you scared me!” Harumasa whined softly, his hand pressing flat against his chest while he looked up to Yanagi with puppy-like eyes. “Of course I’m making progress, but it’s just so har-”

“Good,” Yanagi nodded with a smile, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder, “I’m sure you can make it up for all the reports behind the schedule, Asaba-kun,” she added before walking away to pay some mind to whatever matter was going on with Soukaku and Miyabi.

‘So mean!’, Harumasa thought, how could the deputy chief of all people not even bother to offer him some help with that endless pile of work? He frowned, resting an elbow on top of his desk and his head on top of his hand. Well, there were still two hours, right? He could kill off some time and do that report later…

He reached for his cellphone, which was just by the side of the pile of work he was trying so hard to ignore, and mindlessly moved his thumb around the screen, drawing an arrow and unlocking the device.

Browsing through the interknot shouldn’t be that much of a big deal to most people, but things may get a little interesting when you have an army of restless fans that are chronically online, to say the least. It was still a little hard for him to believe what kind of thing his admirers would do and create: drawings, banners, edits of his fights’ footage with upbeat songs, and even fictional stories… Now that he thought about it, Harumasa was probably the one inside the Section 6 that paid the most attention to these contents: Yanagi usually brushed them off with a polite smile, not even daring to give them a second look; Miyabi didn’t understand the concept behind people’s admiration towards her; and Soukaku only cared about the gifts she could eat.

Still, while being popular could be a little troublesome at times (like when he was trying to sneak out with a certain proxy), having a legion of followers would come handy at boring moments like this. After all, Harumasa knew there would always be something to entertain himself with.

“Masa-masa enthusiasts explain why he is so cute; Check it out!”, “Ten things you didn’t know about Asaba Harumasa!”, “Harumasa caught secret dating?!”, “Harumasa spotted at the Lumina Square! See more pictures here”...

Harumasa rolled his eyes, scrolling past all the posts he deemed dumb. Why was the tag with his name filled with so many weird articles anyway? Where was the good stuff at? He let out a quiet groan, continuing to search for something that actually deserved his attention.

He continued to search, post after post, article after article, photo after photo. After a couple moments digging throughout the interknot, a post from the “Archive of Our Eridu” caught his attention. Finally some good fan made content, Harumasa through, smirking slightly as he clicked the link and opened it.

“‘Harumasa/Reader’, huh..?” He mumbled, shifting in his chair as his eyes moved past the tags, skipping the summary and the author’s notes to finally get to the actual story. 

‘You watch your captive slowly regain his consciousness, his muffled groans barely making past the improvised gag and his limbs’ moving restrained by the tightly tied ropes’- Harumasa arched one eyebrow at the content and its form, remembering one of the fanfic’s tags. 

Right, this should be someone else’s point-of-view, which means… the said ‘captive’ was him? Wait, how was he supposed to read it if he was doing both roles? 

Harumasa frowned, shaking his head. Probably the author never expected him, of all the users in the interknot, to stumble upon this. Still, he should probably just think of ‘reader’ as a different person while reading it, that should make things easier for him to understand and get through the text. 

So, back to it…

It was a straight forward setting. The reader in question was playing the role of some sort of criminal organization’s leader while Harumasa played… well, his own role. For some reason, the author skipped the previous events that led to the current scene - Harumasa assumed that would be too much context - and the first paragraphs described some sort of… interrogation? At least, that’s what it sounded like.

“Heh, am I going to fall in love with the bad guys here..?” Harumasa giggled with the thought, surprisingly amused as the reader threatened and tried to intimidate him. “They are making me sound so stubborn here…”

Harumasa continued to read, flinching when the reader snatched the tape off his lips, imagining how much it would sting, and even unawarely mimicking his reactions described in the story: parted lips, half closed eyes, erratic breathing…

‘We already took care of your colleagues. No one is coming to save you, Asaba, you better speak’, he shifted in his seat at that line. ‘Hah, even better. Do your worst, you’ll get nothing from me’, was he actually this sassy? And what’s up with the attitude? Harumasa shook his head, rolling his eyes at the cliché threats from the reader. Maybe he did set the bar too high for some amateur stor-

‘Pain? Who said anything about hurting you, my dear Asaba? I have my own methods of making you talk’, oh? Was that the beginning of the steamy parts? Harumasa looked around the office, making sure Yanagi was still in her seat before continuing his reading.

Being caught reading this kind of stuff would be even worse than getting caught slacking off. Gladly, Soukaku seemed to be doing an amazing job at keeping the deputy chief busy. 

Alright, time to resume it.

‘What?’. ‘Ah, Asaba… I’ve always been fond of you, I could never bring myself to hurt that pretty face of yours, but… I still need to make you talk, right?’ He could feel his cheeks warming up a little, imagining the scene a bit beyond what was written. 

Ah, this better not be something weird awakening inside him, Harumasa thought.

There was still no action. The story only described how the reader walked around him, wandering in the room and circling the chair he was tied to while explaining to Harumasa the roots of their affection for him. Still, Harumasa couldn’t help but to feel his heart beating a little faster with anticipation - both as the audience and as a form of sympathy towards his character.

The next part had Harumasa leaning more and more on the edge of his seat, going an inch forward with each word read. The description mentioned something like the reader sitting at Harumasa’s lap, popping his shirt’s buttons open one after the other and pushing his shirt away, exposing his bare chest.

‘Get your hands… off me, you f-freak!’. “Why? Are you nervous? Feeling shy? Maybe there is something stuck at the back of your throat? Let me get it out for you’.

Harumasa felt a shiver run up his spine, regretting ever underestimating one of his fan’s work. The description had him wrapped around its finger and even he himself couldn’t figure out what was so good about it - neither what made it sound so awfully hot.

‘You began to drag your fingers around his toned midriff, circling his navel before teasing his sides. You watched Harumasa tense up, sucking in stomach, trying to avoid your touch. You chuckle, fondly, tickling the edge of his waist.’

So this was the torture they had in mind? Tickling? Harumasa looked up, lowering his phone for a moment and contemplating the idea. Unexpected, yes. Unwelcomed? Not sure. He couldn’t really tell if he was ticklish - was there ever a time for him to figure it out?

Of course, the lack of this confirmation didn’t stop this fan, it seemed. He should probably leave a like in their work for the effort - finding a piece of information that Harumasa himself wasn’t aware of. Heh.

But, back to the fanfiction… Why was it making his heart flutter? Or, even better, why was he struck by the imaginary feeling of it?

He could feel a ghost-like sensation roaming his body. Unconsciously hitching his breath, brushing a hand over whatever spot was mentioned to get rid of the phantom feeling and even catching himself smiling at nothing but his own thoughts.

‘Harumasa laugh helplessly under your hands. You dig your finds under his arms, squirming your way past his defenses despite his efforts into clasping his elbows to his torso. He throws his head back and you can’t help but to give his neck a little tease’.

“...w-what kind of freak would be into this stuff?” He groaned quietly, pouting while his cheeks felt warmer than before. Harumasa even lifted his hand - after hesitating a little, for some reason - to rub his neck, trying to shift his attention from the nonexistent sensation.

Stomach, side, neck, ears, thighs, knees, waist, feet, back… even his hands! How many words did that fanfic even have?!

Harumasa crossed his legs before leaning back into the chair, his breathing quickened for some reason. “A-ahm, does anyone mind if I turn on the AC?” Harumasa whined sheepishly, hooking a finger around his collar to loosen it.

“No, go ah- Asaba-kun, are you feeling alright?” Yanagi asked, furrowing her brows slightly with concern. “You actually look sick, do you need me to-”

“I-it’s fine, deputy chief,” Harumasa sighed, wiping a drop of sweat from the side of his face and fanning it with his hand. “Just a little… overwhelmed, I’ll be fine,” he pulled out a forced smile, making Yanagi nod despite the doubt.

He should stop reading these things at work…

Brr, brr.

Wise lifted his head from his pillow, turning around and giving his attention to his phone instead of trying to sleep. Reaching out to it, taking him less than a couple swipes to check the reason behind the noise. 

[A guest left ludos on Harumasa’s Interrogation], read the e-mail. Wise shrugged, placing his phone back on the table. Well, at least something was doing numbers, unlike this commission he was stuck at… but he should be able to do it after a good nap!

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 9

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: The great escape…

Song Inspo: “Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)” by Kate Bush

Word Count: 7.2K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood and violence, death, angst, trauma and PSTD, smut, hurt/comfort and feels.

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🎙️ Series Masterlist

Part 9: Free to Be You and Me

Free me, you compelled Eisenstein’s mind.

He obeyed you with a vacant look in his eyes. He unhooked your straitjacket and opened the door. After you grabbed up his cattle prod, you still didn’t release your psychic hold. You ordered him forward, and for the first time you walked freely out of your cell without restraint.

Take me to Soldier Boy.

Eisenstein walked forward. Any time you came across a guard, you tased them long enough to touch whatever scrap of skin you could, usually their face or their neck. You added them to your collective control.

Now you had literal bodyguards protecting you as you made your way through the compound. You hadn’t used your powers in so long. It felt good, like stretching an aching muscle.

Once you reached Ben’s cell, Eisenstein stopped in front of it. When you peered inside the small window on the door, it looked misty as hell.

Clear the gas, you ordered.

The doctor pressed a key of numbers on a pad beside the door, and the gas receded into the vents.

Open the door.

He did as you commanded, then he stepped aside for you. You ordered the guards to stand watch outside the open door before you hurried inside. Ben was lying on the floor, mostly on his side. He was still very naked, though your face warmed as you tried not to focus on that part.

It made you sad more than anything. They’d been keeping him in here like an animal, worse than you, and after what he did for you…you could no longer find it in yourself to hate him.

You took his face into your hands and tapped his cheek.

“Ben… Ben, wake up,” you prodded.

His brows twitched. He made a sound of waking, and you swept his hair out of his eyes. Before they even opened all the way, his hand shot out and grabbed you by the throat. It choked a gasp out of you as you scrambled to grab his wrist.

“Ben,” you said with difficulty. “It’s me…”

Though if you thought about it, after the last things you’d said to him, maybe he did really want to kill you. Maybe he regretted saving you after all.

As he blinked more awake, this time he actually took in your face. His hand relaxed when he recognized you. You panted in relief to see it dawn in his eyes. His thumb slightly brushed across your jaw, and your name fell from his lips, almost in wonder.

“Yeah, it’s me,” you said with a smile and tears in your eyes. “Come on.”

You helped him up the best you could. His frame was bigger and heavier, and he was still a bit unsteady on his feet. He slung an arm around your shoulders and let you guide him out of the room. He tensed at seeing the guards in their green uniforms and Eisenstein standing there, but you held a hand to his chest. His skin there was hot to the touch. You frowned.

Must be whatever the serum did to him.

Dismay pulsed inside you, but you’d think about that later.

“It’s okay, they’re with me,” you told him with a smile, before you looked at one of the guards.

“Give him your clothes,” you ordered.

The man was compelled to set down his gun, take off his hat and the rest of his uniform, even his underwear, socks, and boots. He gave them all to Ben, who raised a brow.

“I’m good without the briefs,” he said with a grimace, tossing the used underwear to the floor. You flickered at a smile.

“Guess you’re going commando,” you said.

Ben scoffed. He muttered, “Yeah, what else is fucking new.”

A sliver of sadness once again pierced you, but you stayed quiet. He released you so he could get dressed. Biting your lip, you glanced away to give him some privacy.

Another guard turned the corner and noticed you all in the hallway. He raised a pointed finger and shouted something in Russian, then he raised his gun. You ordered your guards to shoot the man, but the damage was done. A red alert was sounding overhead.

“Let’s go,” Ben said. After lacing up his boots, he guided you with a hand on your back.

Eisenstein and three guards formed a pack of protection around you and Ben as you moved through the compound. You slowed to a stop at what looked like a laundry room.

“I need something else to wear,” you said. “Once we get outside, I’m gonna stick out—”

Ben eyed your thin gray gown and socks. He grabbed your arm and led you inside.

“Find something in here,” he said, as if that wasn’t your idea.

Instead of wasting time picking an argument, you just nodded in agreement. You looked around and picked through the large clean bin of clothing. It held several mixed bundles of faded green men’s shirts and pants. Finally, you managed to find a dark red tracksuit. It was a men’s size, so it wasn’t going to fit you, but maybe you’d look a little less ridiculous. Ben tossed you the smallest pair of boots he could find, and they were still huge. They would have to do.

“How do we get out of here?” you asked as you got dressed. You turned around for a semblance of modesty, but it didn’t stop the man from glancing over, checking out your ass, bare legs and back.

“We fight,” he replied. There was a dark note in his voice that you understood, and you agreed with him.

“I know. I mean a little more specifically,” you said. When you were dressed, you turned around and met your companion’s grim look. Together, you two returned to the hall and focused on Eisenstein.

“What’s the best way to get out of here?” you asked him. Your hold on his mind forced him to answer honestly.

“The compound is three stories underground. You must take the elevators up to the top,” he responded, almost like a robot.

“Show us,” you ordered.

The doctor complied. He led the way, and the guards covered your back as you hurried through the maze of hallways. Finally, he led you to the main laboratory. Inside were the rest of the doctor’s team trying to filter out and evacuate, while the rest of the security guards formed a line against you. You saw where the scientists were headed, to a large elevator along the far wall. 

“There!” you pointed, grabbing Ben’s arm.

He held you to him quick when the shots fired your way. He protected you with his body as the bullets bounced harmlessly off his skin, though a few of them tore through his clothes. He turned around but kept you behind him. His hands curled into fists, and he rooted his stance. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but you hid yourself behind his broad back.

Ben charged up the power that had already been building in his chest. It had started from the moment they injected him with that goddamn serum.

Now, he knew what it was. It felt like lava inside his chest—a nuclear force that he unleashed throughout the lab. It destroyed everything in its path, from desks and beakers to walls and support beams, to the men screaming and trying in vain to get away.

When it was over, Ben heaved for breath but remained standing. You peered around him in shock.

“Oh my God…”

There wasn’t much left of the lab, just a ruins, and a meager group of survivors, limping, moaning, struggling. Your face evened out, akin to stone. You had no sympathy for any of them. You endured their studies and were forced to hear their thoughts. You knew that these men weren’t men at all.

You decided to finish the job.

“Cover your ears,” you told Ben. He shot you a questioning look, his brows furrowed. 

“Just trust me,” you said.

Then you opened your mouth, and you sang. Your eyes glowed with power, and the force of your siren song gripped every man still alive in the room. They soon began screaming anew, holding their heads as tears of blood streamed from their eyes. That included your guards, as well as Doctor Eisenstein.

Ben was forced to cover his ears, gritting his teeth. It didn’t affect him as badly, but even he yelled in strain.

You released your hold on the room and stopped singing. By then, all the normal humans were dead.

It was your turn to catch your breath. You’d used up a great deal of energy in a short span of time with your powers, and your body was still weak and undernourished. You took an unsteady step forward and nearly fell.

Ben caught you around your waist. He gathered you up against his chest, and you tried to grab onto his arms and keep your head raised.

His gaze flit over your face. “Can you walk?”

You closed your eyes to try and clear the dizziness and black spots from your vision.

“Uh, yeah. Just give me a minute,” you said.

Ben made a sound of impatience. He hefted you into his arms easily. You gasped and held onto him, and he made his way across the ruined lab.

The elevator doors were fried, but the compartment still worked. Without dropping you, he wedged his hand in between the fused metal doors and ripped them open. Then he stepped inside with you in his arms.

You felt the heat still emanating from his chest. You glanced up at him. There, he met your stare. There was so much you wanted to say, and yet, you had no idea how. You wondered if he felt the same way.

He faced forward again, and you did the same. You two rode the elevator all the way up in silence.

You asked him to set you down on your feet when the elevator finally reached the ground floor. It was merely a lobby area with some thick double doors at the end. You practically ran to it, regardless of your unsteady gait. You just wanted to breathe fresh air and see the outside world.

And it was beautiful. You teared up at seeing the gray sky and the expanse of snow-laden mountains in the distance, even though the air was freezing. A gust of wind shoved at you. You held yourself with a shiver and a gasp as you stared out at the expanse of snow ahead. You weren’t dressed for a cold snap in Siberia. 

Ben wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you back. You doubted he felt the cold much with his invulnerable skin. For once you were jealous.

“Come on, there’s a car over there,” he said, pointing to a small parking lot.

The only scientist who escaped the lab was trying to thrust his key into the door lock of his gray sedan. His hands were shaking badly, but he managed to get the key in. A heavy hand fell on his shoulder.

The scientist slowly looked up, and he saw Ben’s grim reflection in the window.

It was the last thing he saw.

You and Ben bickered over the navigation to the closest airport. You had the map in your hands, not that you could read it very well in Russian, but he claimed his instincts were leading him south. You once again wanted to throttle him.

You eventually figured out the way to the closest international airport, thanks to the small image of a plane on the map. You didn’t have luggage, which made things easier, but you still needed to compel several people into giving you a pair of tickets (in coach, as to not be suspicious—through security and Customs before you could board the next flight to New York. By the time you and Ben actually sat down in your shitty seats on the plane, you were exhausted in every way.

“You can have the window seat,” you offered. “I’m probably just going to sleep the whole way.”

Ben tacitly agreed and slid in first, but he watched you lower down into the middle seat with a tired sigh. You glanced over at him.

“How’re you feeling?” you asked.

“Fine,” he answered, his voice deep and stoic as always. He opened up the bag of snacks he’d snuck onto the plane and started chowing down on some beef jerky. He offered you some, and you took a couple of pieces.

It was hard to tell what he was thinking. You felt a bit of anxiety coming off of him with your abilities, though you supposed that could’ve been from the plane gearing up to take off, finally getting you guys the hell out of here.

Or maybe, like you, flashes of the past decade were still filtering through his mind, making this moment seem unreal.

We actually did it. We made it out.

Even so, you weren’t sure what he saw when he looked at you. The last time you two had truly spoken, you’d said a lot of hurtful things, even though many of them were hard truths he’d needed to hear.

“Yes! It is your fault. Because you’re too much of a mean, callous, arrogant, entitled, selfish, fucking asshole to see that everybody hates you!”

“The only thing I really wanted from you was what you could do for my career.”

You remembered the sound of his voice, not even angry anymore. Just resigned.

“It was all an act, huh?”

“Yeah, it was,” you said. “I fucking hope I never have to see your face again.”

The memory of it made your chest sting. It also filled you with questions you were almost afraid to ask.

Did he resent you? Hate you? Was this Bonnie and Clyde escape plan just for convenience’s sake, or…did he actually care about you, deep down?

As you thought about what happened yesterday in his cell, the way he’d saved you from Eisenstein’s experiment—the serum that created the damn nuclear bomb in his chest—you had to wonder…

If he didn’t care about you, why else had he saved you? 

The question continued to revolve in your mind, like discordant notes on a stanza’s refrain, until your exhaustion claimed you.

Flashes of memory scored through your subconscious. They filled your dreams with echoes of pain and the sound of your own voice giving out.

You woke with a start, heaving for breath as panic rose high in your chest and throat. Your heartbeat was pulsing in your ears, and you felt clammy and wrong.

Ben whispered your name sharply. His grip on your arm broke you out of the haze, but it startled you as well. You blinked fast, as if you could clear the nightmare from continuing behind your eyes. He glanced over his shoulder at one of the flight attendants passing by. Ben soon returned his attention to you though.

“Calm down. You’re going to blow our cover,” he said.

You nodded shakily, but you couldn’t help it. Tears welled up in your eyes and made your lips tremble.

“What if they come after us?” you whispered. You were even trembling in your distress. “What if they find us—”

“That’s not gonna happen,” Ben said sternly. “We Kentucky fried all those Commie cocksuckers.”

“I can’t. I can’t go back,” you said, shaking on every word. Your fear, your panic was rising, making your hand clutch at the front of his shirt.

Ben’s frown deepened. He turned toward you and took your face in his big hands, earning a gasp from you. Your watery eyes met his firm ones.

“You’re not going back,” he said. “That shit’s over, you understand me?”

Tears continued to slip down your cheeks, but you gave a jerky nod. He didn’t seem satisfied.

After a moment of hesitation, he pulled you in for a hard kiss. Your breath hitched…but your eyes fell closed. You didn’t care that his scraggly beard rasped against your chin. All you could do was focus on the familiarity of his lips moving against yours.

He pulled away slowly, with him seeming to try and gauge your reaction. Your eyes slid open and met his. Your fingers tangled further in his shirt, and you tugged yourself closer, your lips nearing his in askance.

He answered you, kissing you again.

Landing in LaGuardia Airport was even more of a shitshow than it used to be. A mess of people and traffic and tourists and resident commuters, it didn’t matter that it was at one in the morning. Cars honking and people jabbering and the clanking of suitcases rolling across the ground as airport staff droned instructions on the overhead speakers; it was all discombobulating for you, after having spent so long alone and in the dark, with minimal interactions or stimulation.

You had a feeling you weren’t the only one a bit overwhelmed. You noticed Ben’s tense expression and tight shoulders. His head turned at every sharp sound…and even sounds that weren’t there.

You stayed close to him as you two found your way outside the airport. You watched out for him silently, while he kept a hand on your lower back. Neither of you seemed to want to lose each other in the throng. He managed to hail a cab, beating out a businessman who was busy talking on some kind of cordless phone.

You and Ben shared a bewildered look on that one.

Once you were in the cab, sitting beside Ben, you let out a breath of relief. It was still cold in April, and your overlarge tracksuit wasn’t cutting it.

“Where to?” the cabbie asked. You glanced at your companion and gave him a raised finger, imploring him to follow your lead. You had an idea.

“Take us to the nearest department store,” you said.

“At this time? All the stores are closed,” the cabbie replied.

“Just do what she fucking said, all right, pal?” Ben said, none too gently. He was already on edge from the long flight and antsy to get somewhere comfortable.

“Okay, man. Jeez,” the cabbie muttered. He drove off, peeling away from the curb and merging into traffic.

You couldn’t fault Ben; you felt the same way. You laid a comforting hand on his thigh. He glanced at you and calmed, somewhat. He raised his arm and draped it over the back of your seat. You tentatively took it as an invitation, so you scooched over a little to rest against his side.

Letting out a long breath through his nose, he looked out the window at the passing scenery of the city. The nightlife all flashed by in familiar colors and sounds of cars honking and music playing in the distance. Meanwhile, his fingers brushed along your shoulder absently. As the car’s warmth seeped into your bones, you tried your best to stay awake.

You and Ben broke into Sears via the backdoor alleyway, next to one vile smelling dumpster. There you veered off into separate ways in the department store.

You chose to grab a cart before you went into the women’s section. You started with the bras and panties and pulled things off the display tables and hangers, regardless of their price. Dear God, I’ve missed real underwear. You even grabbed a few silky, lacy things in the lingerie section, with a secret smile over your shoulder.

You grabbed a razor while you were at it, along with some other toiletries, shampoo and conditioner, a generous pile of makeup, and some other hair and body products.

You later perused with a half-critical eye at the rest of the women’s clothing. Apparently, jeans were a lot baggier in the ‘90s, and you were finding too many crop tops and overalls.

What the hell is this decade? you thought, but you managed to find a few outfits you liked that were still versatile enough to mix and match. You didn’t know when you’d be able to do this again.

Within the hour, you met back up with Ben, who was carrying all of his clothing finds piled up in his arms. You smiled in amusement. Typical man.

He dumped it all into your cart—a few pairs of pants and shirts and jackets and shoes, and even a men’s electrical shaving kit.

“Good call, lumberjack,” you said, eyeing his beard. Ben shook his head and ran a palm over the sheer length of it.

“Let’s just get the fuck out of here,” he grumbled.

“Ooh, wait,” you said, pointing at a row of suitcases. “That’ll make this easier.”

He agreed. Soon, you had each picked out your suitcases and packed them with your finds. Then you literally rolled out the way you came.

You paused at the door when you heard a clicking sound, followed by the handle turning. A security guard was just as surprised to catch you and Ben as you were to see him. But before he could even raise his gun, you stepped up and touched his face.

Sleep, and forget.

Within seconds, the man’s eyes rolled up into his head, and he slumped to the floor in a heap.

Ben had the next idea of where to go, after hailing another cab. You went along with it, but you thought he could’ve picked something a little more…inconspicuous.

Your eyes were bright, however, when you stared up at the beautiful building of the Plaza Hotel. You had never stayed here before, but it was also the home of the Oak Room. Ben had taken you there for dinner a handful of times, including on your first date.

“Why here?” you asked, glancing up at Ben. He shot you a knowing smile.

“Was feeling a little sentimental, I guess.”

His hand came to rest on your lower back again, and you ventured with him inside to the hotel lobby. It was pristine, as always, with its polished tile floors and vaulted ceilings. It wasn’t check-in hour, so the place was mostly empty, save for a single front desk clerk on the night shift.

That was in your favor though. You two might’ve raided Sears for new clothes, but you definitely didn’t look like the Plaza’s typical guests. With a quasi-flirtatious hand over the young man’s wrist, you were able to compel the clerk to book you and Ben into an entire suite with a king-sized bed, indefinitely, and all complimentary of the Plaza Hotel.

“Enjoy your stay,” he said robotically as he gave you the room keys. You gave him a smile with the glow of your eyes.

“Thank you. I’m sure we will.”

You were run down. You felt it in what seemed like all of the joints, muscles, and sinew in your body when you and Ben got into your suite. The place was lavish and beautifully decorated in soft yellows, crèmes, and beiges, with dark wood furniture, vases full of pink roses, and fine art on the walls, but all you cared about was dumping your suitcase on the floor and dropping face-first onto the bed.

“Oh my God, a real fucking bed,” you said into the clean, soft cotton. It actually brought tears to your eyes.

You managed to turn yourself onto your back as Ben rolled his suitcase to a stop beside yours. He watched you in amusement.

“You did good, sweetheart,” he said, briefly grasping your arm as he passed by. It warmed a smile and a blush onto your face.

“What do you feel like eating?” he asked. “I’m gonna order some food.”

You shook your head and gave a dismissive wave of your hand.

“Anything. I’ll eat literally anything.”

He went to the phone on one of the nightstands and dialed Room Service. He ordered enough food to feed three of him (and one of him could be a whole dinner party). Satisfied with the promise of fast service, he hung up and started unpacking his suitcase for a change of clothes.

You sat up with a groan. “You can take the first shower. I need a minute to get situated.”

More like, gather your strength. Using your powers so much across the course of your journey back to the States had taken it out of you, beyond what you’d expected. You needed at least a few of days of solid R&R. Make it a year.

Ben eyed you as he began to unbutton his shirt.

“Or, you can join me,” he said.

You turned to face him more fully at that. Your mouth parted to reply, but you hesitated. His offer took you by surprise, even though it probably shouldn’t have.

He saw your uncertainty. What surprised you even more was that he didn’t press it. He just nodded slightly, and went into the bathroom to finish undressing. Within a few minutes, you heard the showerhead turn on.

What do you want here? you asked yourself.

It should’ve been a simple question. Somehow, it wasn’t.

But you made a decision. This time, you weren’t thinking three steps ahead. You weren’t thinking about consequences, or what people would expect of you. You just thought about what you wanted, here and now.

Slowly, you got up from the bed. You took a breath to steady yourself, and you went into the bathroom. The mirror was already fogged up with steam. Behind the shower curtain, you could hear Ben scrubbing and humming some tune to himself, making you smile.

You shed the ratty old jumpsuit from your body with slightly shaking hands. From anticipation or nerves, you didn’t know which. After stepping out of the heap of fabric, you called his name softly. You knew he heard it, because the humming stopped.

Ben pulled back the shower curtain to find you standing there, gazing up at him while biting the inside of your lip. His eyes drew down your form, over each and every bare curve. You wondered if he remembered it all with the same clarity as you did, the way his body used to fit against yours.

He reached out his hand, and you took it, letting him guide you into the shower. He slid his free hand around the back of your neck and drew you into a passionate kiss, hotter than the spray from the showerhead beating down on you both. His arm came down around your waist and he turned you around to press you against the wall.

You gasped at the cold impact of the tile, but you welcomed the heat of him. You met his each and every demanding kiss in kind, sinking your fingers through his wet, longer hair and dragging your nails against his scalp. Meanwhile, his hands were everywhere, sliding possessively up your sides, up smooth skin to squeeze your breasts, rolling your hard and sensitive nipples under his thumbs.

You arched into him with a pleased moan. It had been so damn long since you were touched. Perhaps it was a poetic form of irony that he was the last man to have ever fucked you.

Ten long years. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about his hands, his mouth, the memories and the feeling of his cock inside you, stretching you, filling you. The thought had you slipping a hand down between his body and yours, roaming down his chest and abs, just to caress the full risen length of him in your palm.

He groaned into your mouth, instinctively pressing himself into your hand and caging you harder against the wall. His lips veered away to kiss and suck his way down your neck. You panted for breath against him.

“Ben, please,” you pleaded. Your hand pumped him faster, twisting along his shaft and goading him to full mast.

He panted with a nod, nosing along your throat. “All right, baby doll. I gotcha.”

He made his way down your body to lap at your breasts, taking a nipple between his teeth and teasing you there with the scruff of his beard. You moaned, had to release your hold on him when he took your hand and pinned it by your head on the warm tile. His other hand skimmed down your wet body to cup your mound.

You whimpered, instinctively pressing yourself into his hand. You felt his familiar smirk between your breasts, just before his thumb drew down between the slick folds of your pussy. It swept back up to brush your clit, and you jolted against his hand, releasing another moan. You were so damn sensitive already.

Ben seemed to enjoy it. He took his time working you up, strumming along and inside your slit with his fingers, making you clench on nothing in anticipation. Just when you opened your mouth to snap at him to fucking touch you already, he obliged you, slipping two long fingers deep into your channel.

You gasped and shuddered at the invasion, but it was a welcome one. He built up a rhythm, rocking his fingers inside of you while his thumb pressed and circled at your clit. It didn’t take long before your inner walls were clenching around his fingers as you shuddered your release. Your warmth coated his hand down to the knuckles.

Ben kissed you deeply, cutting off your moaning of his name. From there, he grabbed your thigh and helped you hike your foot up on the soap dish on the wall, so he could make room for himself between your legs.

He used the remnants of your slick to coat himself, before he sheathed his cock deep inside you with one push. Both of you groaned at the feeling, a sweet relief and a tight fucking fit. It was like your body remembered the shape of him.

“You still take my cock just right. Fit me like a fucking glove,” he said, sliding out of you with ease. He eased back in with a snap of his hips, inching you up higher on the wall. You clung to his arms tighter, with your nails biting fruitlessly into his flesh.

“God, yes,” you uttered.

But just when he started picking up a rougher, delicious set of thrusts, Ben faltered as his body locked up on him with the force of his orgasm. He came quickly, too quickly, for him. His brows furrowed as he caught his breath. You picked up on his surprise, and then his frustration—at himself.

“Fuck!” he growled, fisting a hand against the wall.

You were a little stunned yourself, but quickly you had to try not to laugh. Biting your lip, you reached up to stroke his cheek.

“It’s okay,” you panted. “It’s okay, baby. It’s just been a long time.”

After a few seconds of continued seething, Ben met your gaze. Seeing that you weren’t judging him, he reluctantly settled down.

“Still think I’m an asshole?” he asked.

The question caught you off guard, but you softened into a smile.

“That remains to be seen,” you replied.

He almost huffed. He slid a wet strand of hair behind your ear.

“You still afraid of me then?” he said.

Your amusement faded. You tilted your head at him, raising your brows. He was still inside you, and he asked this question?

But if he was asking you that, then he really did want to know. You grasped his chin and made sure he looked you in the eyes.

“Are you going to hurt me?” you asked, in a tone that quietly demanded. “Am I safe with you?” 

His eyes held a weight you hadn’t seen before.

“You’re safe with me,” he said.

You felt his sincerity. It rang true in his words, and you saw it for yourself. You believed him.

So you nodded. You let your hand fall to his chest. “Okay.”

He nodded as well. Finally, he untangled himself from you and turned off the showerhead, the water now run cold. He stepped out of the shower first, but he turned to give you a hand. You accepted his help as you came out and grabbed a couple of towels for both of you. After you had yours wrapped around your body, you reached for his arm to earn his attention.

He had been honest with you. You felt it was time for you to give him the same.

“Ben,” you said, with a sigh. “Back then, I lied to you.”

He snorted. “Which time?”

You gave a wry look, but you were serious. You shifted closer to him. You both stood there, dripping wet, with mere inches in between while Ben looked down at you, and you up at him.  

“This. You and me…it wasn’t all an act,” you said, as tears began to well up in your eyes. “I just didn’t want to admit it, even to myself.”

Ben hummed in contemplation. He raised a hand to draw a line down your cheek with his thumb.

“Hmm. Well. Maybe you weren’t the only one,” he said eventually.

Your lips tugged at a smile. He leaned down and met you with another kiss, and this time it was a slow, simmering heat.

Ben took his time in the bathroom afterward to shave his face with the clippers and razor he bought. When he padded back into the dining area, by now fully clothed in a shirt and some sweatpants, he found you already eating without him. You were tearing into some chicken parmesan ravenously while watching a show on TV. 

“What’s on?” he asked, sitting down across from you at the two-seater table. He grabbed one of the plates with his steak and potatoes and began tearing into his own meal. He intended to hit the chicken wings next, or maybe the burger sliders and fries.

“Seinfeld?” You sounded unsure. “It just started. Supposed to be a comedy, I think.”

You and Ben watched the episode until the credits rolled, but he shook his head, licking his fingers after finishing his fifth chicken wing. You were drawn to the sight—grossed out, and yet, a little turned on.

“Nothing happened in that whole goddamn episode,” he said.

You were inclined to agree. So what if they couldn't get a damn table at a Chinese restaurant?

“Okay,” you checked the pamphlet TV Guide. “Let’s try…Friends. It’s on next.”

“The One with the East German Laundry Detergent,” was the name of the episode, according to the TV Guide. You actually enjoyed yourself throughout the whole thing. Even Ben laughed at some of Chandler’s lines. You hadn’t heard that rich, boisterous laugh of his in so long, it made you laugh just by proximity.

By the end of the episode, he was finally done picking at the leftover food. You had finished a long time ago, but you liked seeing him sitting more relaxed in his chair, less on edge.

“Now that one was funny,” you said, when the end theme started to play. Ben balled up his napkin and tossed it on the table.

“At least Rachel’s hot, but don’t tell me she gets with that dopey-eyed pussy.”

“Aw, you mean Ross? I think he’s cute.”

Ben shot you a glance, his brows knitting together. You couldn’t help smiling as you sipped at your glass of wine. He got the feeling you were teasing him. (And you were.)

“Come here,” he said, hooking his foot around a leg of your chair. You yelped as he dragged you close enough to take you by the arm and tip you over, into his lap. You allowed it with a laugh and wrapped your arms around his neck. His hand slid up your thigh in your little pajama shorts, while you caressed his cheek and explored the new beard he was sporting. It was nice and trim, along with the smoother sweep of his hair.

“I like this, by the way,” you said. Your nails scratched through his beard playfully. You kissed his cheek. “Very handsome.”

Ah, there it is, the reappearance of that smug smile of his. You decided to take it down a peg.

“I didn’t mind the lumberjack though,” you teased. “I knew no one would recognize us with that shag carpet on your face.”

Ben’s face fell into annoyance. He stood, picking you up along with him. After he brought you over to the bed, he fairly dropped you down onto it, making sure to smack your ass for good measure. You squealed with laughter.

“You wanna fucking sass me? Fine,” he said, raising a brow. “I’ll just have to punish you.” 

“Nooo, don’t do that. I’ll probably like it,” you said, with both amusement and desire glinting in your eyes while you slid your arms around his broad shoulders. You slipped your legs around his waist as well, guiding his hips down against your already pulsing core. 

Ben broke slightly, his amusement peeking through.  

“I don’t remember you having such a smart mouth,” he said. You trailed your fingers across his cheek. 

“I think you’ll learn to like it,” you said, shortly before you lured him into a kiss.  

He fucked you well into the early morning, where you two finally got some sleep. Around mid-afternoon, you woke and ate and showered and continued to relearn each other’s bodies. You spent the entire day and night in that hotel room, recuperating and healing in your own ways. 

Late that night, you rested in the crook of his arm while he smoked a blunt. You’d compelled one of the bell men to find some reefer. You knew it would help Ben sleep better, and it served to calm you down when anxiety threatened to choke you again. 

It was never as bad as it was on the plane ride over, but sometimes it hit you at odd moments. 

Are they coming after us? Does Vought already know we’re here? Will they try to ship us back?

You knew you had been careful, but anything was possible. 

You extended an expectant hand. Ben took one more puff before he handed the blunt over. You puffed a couple of times and passed it back with a cough. 

“I still don’t really like this shit,” you said in distaste. 

Ben chuckled. “You still don’t know how to smoke it, either.”

You sighed in amusement, stroking a hand over his thigh absently. You two hadn’t bothered getting dressed in hours. Cheers played on the TV—something you both could agree on.

“I need to check in with my family,” you said after a while. You missed your brother especially. God, your nephew had to be close to fifteen years old by now. The thought made your eyes water, but with a deep breath, you managed to taper it down.

You turned to the man beside you. “Do you…do you have family anywhere?”

Ben let out another long puff of smoke. 

“Anyone who mattered is long dead,” he said. He looked down at you, meeting your gaze. “You’re all I’ve got.”

You smiled a little sadly, but you grasped his hand and threaded your fingers through his. 

“But I’ve got a score to settle,” he said. The hardening tone of his voice concerned you.

“With who?” you asked. 

Ben reached over to the nightstand and put out his blunt on an ashtray. He shook his head. 

“Everyone,” he said lowly, “in that goddamn Tower.”

You frowned. You released his hand so you could turn over and face him. 

“Ben, I know how you feel, but think about this for a second.”

“It’s all I’ve been thinking about since we got out of motherfucking Siberia,” he said tersely. “Those cocksuckers are gonna pay for what they did.”

You took a steadying breath. “Okay, taking on the team is one thing. But Arthur, Stan Edgar, all of Vought? It’s dangerous.”

“And? Don’t try to tell me what I can’t fucking do,” he barked. 

You glared at him, sitting up and taking the blankets with you to cover yourself.  

“Don’t you fucking snap at me!” Your voice cracked just as firmly as his. “I’m trying to tell you to be careful. Because if not, we could wind up exactly where we were before, or worse. And I told you, I can’t…I can’t go back.”

You began to break down at the end there. Your lips trembled as your anxiety bubbled over, making tears spring to your eyes. They stung hot and escaped the corners of your eyes. 

“Ben, I can’t—” you hiccupped. 

His brows were furrowed, his jaw clenched, but now, it was less so in anger. He took your face into his hands like he had on the plane, so you’d focus on him. 

“Hey, hey,” he said, earning your attention. “That’s never gonna happen. I’m not gonna let it happen. But I am going to put all those spineless bastards into the fucking ground where they belong.”

He wiped at your tears with his thumbs. After a brief pause, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your lips. Then another, a reassuring kiss on your forehead.

He pulled back to earn your gaze.

“Then we take it all back,” he said. “You and me.”

It took you a moment to come back to yourself. You were still apprehensive about this plan, but you knew you didn't want him to do it alone. Nor did you want to end up alone, without him. You sniffed and nodded. 

You and me.    

 AN: 😮‍💨 Did you get hit in the feels? If yes, get ready for more of that. But after their long journey back to the U.S., their relationship is shifting now, hopefully in a more positive way (despite the tough road Ben is setting them on).

Also, there might just be a BMD easter egg in there somewhere. Did you catch it? 😉

Next Time:

More heart-to-hearts, more of "the Plan," and we get a bit more into Ben's side of things...

What time is it? It was hard to remember to keep track of that now, even with the digital clock on the nightstand. It was only midnight, but to his body, it felt like morning.

You were dead asleep. Occasionally you let out soft hums, and other semi-arousing sounds. His lips tugged upward. Still moans in her sleep.

He drew down the comforter and sheets slowly from your back. He was greeted by smooth skin, except where some marks had been made permanent. His fingers traced carefully over a rough, scarred patch of skin above your hip, as if you had been tased there repeatedly.

His jaw clenched. He could still remember the sounds he used to hear—your screams through the walls of the compound. He remembered when you eventually stopped begging for it all to stop.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 10

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