#fed up and grumpy and grumbled

[smanfa]

i'm fed up

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

❝DAY IN THE LIFE OF TODDLER DAMI.ᐟ ❞

summary ━ au in which older, sister reader !! takes care of toddler damian .

⤿ fluff , clingy , toothing aching fluff₊⊹

pt.2

╰›clingy toddler damian who is always up early in the morning . this grumpy toddler has a habit of walking up , five in the morning , crawling out of his crib ninja style and sneaks down into the kitchen and begins to bang on pots and pans that literally wakes up the entire batfamily.

╰› every morning everyone just strolls into the kitchen - dick always tries to pry damian off of the pans causing the child to wail like he's dying.

╰›" please tell me the kid comes with an off button " jason grumbles as he trudges into the kitchen , beelining to the fridge . damian is still wailing , even started swatting at dick. " UHMMM some help would be nice?" dick begs as damian swats him straight in the face.

╰›tim finally walks in and throws himself into a nearby chair , " uhhhh give him to name or something ?" he murmurs. damian immediatly seizes his wailing , " namie ?" he babbles as his eyes look around curiously trying to spot you.

╰›" well that got him to shut up " jason gurmbles as he pops a grape into his mouth. everything was calm and quiet if you minus damian's babbling . dick propped him into his high chair and breathed out a sigh of relief - finally he can eat breakfast in peace.

╰›wrong . so utterly worng because in that very moment bruce walked in and damian immediately began wailing . " YOU GOT TO BE KIDDING ME -" dick screeches as damian fulls on wails - chubby face turning red.

╰›" of course he starts crying when he sees you " jason sighs out in exaperation and tim just gave bruce a blank look. " HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW ?" bruce yells out. " B HE'S YOUR KID DO SOMETHING " tim yells back tired from everything.

╰›bruce then picked up damian , " shhhhh its okay , its okay -" bruce attempted to soothe the child but damian was not having it , he full on grabbed onto bruce's hair and started yanking it. bruce let put a groan as he attempts to get damian off of him .

╰›in that exact moment , you walk in , eyes blurry from sleep , hair messy as you stroll into whatever choas this was . " what the hell ..." you murmur as you take in the situation.

╰›damian immediately let up his fight ehen he hear your voice and turned towards you babbling and making grabby hands . " name here you hold him " bruce says , voice tired as he straight up shoved damian into your arms. damian immediately wraps himself around you and begins nuzzling his face into your neck like some cat.

╰›" uhmmm okay " you murmur as you take a seat . " namie namie namie " damian babbled on , playing with your hair. " mhmmm you want food ?" you murmured softly as you outstretched your hand and snagged an apple from dick's plate .

╰›" thats litterally mine -" dick yelped but you ignored him and focused on peeling your apple and slicing them. " i can't believe he is acting so nice when name's here and when she isn't he truns into a demon that's sole goal is to terroize our exsistence" jason complains.

╰›you fed damian a slice before popping one into your own mouth , " he's just a kid that's just what kids do " you defended and dick let out a hiss , " i didn't behave like that when i was a kid " ," oh how would you know dickie boy ?" tim asks , " OH YOU WANNA GO THAT LOW HOW ABOUT YOU-" , dick yells out .bruce sighs - already fed up with everyone fighting.

╰›name sighs - this happens every damn morning - of course someone has to start a fight . name fed damian the last of the apple slices before pushing back her chair. " i'm going to work " name grumbled out as she makes a beeline back upstairs . " TAKE THE DEMON SPAWN WITH YOU " jason calls after her.

╰› name sets damian on her bed , the child immediately crawls into her pillows and began biting it like a chew toy. " alright little menance time to get you changed " name announced as she turns to her wardrobe and returns put with a green pants and a yellow shirt with a cartoon cow going ' moo' .

╰› " do you like ?" name asks as she lays out the outfit on the bed . damian just crawls over and sits down on it , " namie " he says pointedly. " alright then , come on let's get you washed up " .

╰› name sets damian in the batub , the bubbles engulf his tiny form , the only thing you can see was his raven hair and green eyes as he spalshes about . name sits at the head of the tub , lathering her hands with baby shampoo .

╰› she then carefully massages it into his hair while he splashes about with a rubber duck . " namie , namie namiee~" he giggles out excitedly. name giggles along with him , " yes dami i see the ducky , is it your ducky ?" name questions as she grabs the shower detachment to wash off the shampoo out of his hair carefully not to get it in his eyes.

╰› " namieeee " he babbles as he makes the duck spin in the water. " yes dami i see the duck spin " . once name is finished with his hair she lets him spladh about a few more minutes while she gets his towel and clothes ready.

╰› she empties the bath and immediately towel dries him off , slipping on his diaper when he gets distracted with her hair. she lathers him in lavender scented baby lotion and slips clothes onto him before taking him back into her bed.

╰› " namiee " damian giggles out as he crawls around the bed . name only smiles as she fishes out her phone and clicks on her youtube and hands it over to dami , " okay dami , namie's gonna shower okay , be good " name tells him before sbe gives him a forehead kiss and runs off to get herself dressed.

╰› name returns back agter a few minutes , dressed in her work clothes as she picks up damian and brings him with her over to her vanity. damian tears his eyes away from the phone and watches her with big staty eyes as name does her makeup routine .

╰› " namiee" he murmurs softly as his tiny hand attempts to grab at name's brush. " you want some sweet boy ?" name asks , causing him to giggle . name thrn gently swishes some blush onto his face causing him to giggle . " pretty baby " she murmurs causing him to giggle. name finishes up , she fixes her own clothes and adjusts damian's along with combing out his spikey hair before she decemds down stairs.

╰› dick , tim and jason were already putting on their sscjool shled and grabbing their backpacks , " bye name !!" they shoyt after her as she enters the garage , " bye guys - don't do anything stupid " she calls afyer them . name unlocks her car , opening the backseat and slotting damian into his booster seat.

╰› alfred passes by , getging the limp ready to drop the other boys to school and bruce to work. " morning master name and good morning master damian " alfred greeted as he gave damian a headpat. " alfie " damian greeted back as he waved at the old man. " morning alfred , take care on the road " name greeted as she double checked damian being secured in his seat before making her way to the driver's side.

╰› " as do you master name " alfred greets back as he too , enters the limo as the boys begin piling into the car . name speds out of the driveway and makes her way to wayne enterprises. she fiddles aorund with the radio and settles in a station that talks about today's news whike in the background damian plays roblox on his ipad.

╰› an hour passes and name parks her car , finally at wayne enterprises . she switches off the engine and grabs her purde from the passenger seat before heading to thr back to unlock damian from his booster seat . name locks her car and makes a beeline to the elevator in the receptionist area.

╰› " good morning miss wayne !" multiple emplouees greet her on her way over and she gives them back a polite " good morning " . name's assistant walks uo to her and gives her a run down of what's on the day's agenda before she takes the ride up the elevator.

╰› unlocking her office , she sets damian in his custom play pen area thats next to her desk. she gives him a big old kiss " be good today okay dami ? if you need me i am right there " sje tells jim as she points over to her chair nearby.

╰› " namieee " damian giggles out as he gives her a cheek a kiss before crawling away to play with his wooden bricks. name's whole morning was spent doing paper work and taking online meetings . at nine , she cutted up some banan slices and gave damian a juice box as a snack to which he eagerly took.

╰› eleven she took her lunch and picked damian up and ride the elevator back down. she handed bruce's assistant some paperwork before she made her way to her way to the cafeteria .

╰› she grabbed herself a lunch , a sandwhich for damian and a coffee before heading back to her office . name cut the egg sandwhich in half and refilled damian's sippy cup with fresh water before handing it over to damian. damian ripped it into tiny sloced before eating it , both spent their lunch eating and watching some random slime video.

╰› tweleve tolled aroind and damian began to get fussy so name immediately picked him up and stepped outside into her offic's balcony . she rubbed his back and began to soothe him , " its okay dami , it's okay " . " namieeee " he fussed , his tiny face turned grumpy as he yawns . " i know hunny , i know i know " she soothes.

╰› when damian was still fussy name whent into her private bathroom to change his diaper thinking that was the issue yet still he was fussy. " namieeeeeeee " he cried out as he hugged her tightly when they left the bathroom.

╰› name sighs as she makes her way into his play pen area and sits into the rocking chair. " let's read a story yeah ?" she asks as she prop the bpy onto her lap . " namie " he answers back as he snuggled himself closer to her. name begins reading him peter pan as she began rocking him back and forth and soon enough he was long asleep.

╰› name continue rocking him for a good while - making sure he was actually asleep before putting him down in a nearby crib to sleep. name continues on her work , at the end of every hour she will check up on damian to ensure he was okay.

╰› soon enough it was three in the evening , damian has finally awoken from his nap and name takes it as her cue to clock out. she organizes her paperwork while damian properly wakes up and by the times shes finished and turns to go get him , damian's already crawled out of his crib making a beeline to her.

╰› name picks him up , " hiii dami ~ " she coos after him , " namieee !!!" he cooed right nack as he hugs her , nuzzling into her . name kisses him on his cheek , " yes i miss you too dami " she anwers. name finds herself buckling damian back into his booster seat before giving him some gummy worms and his ipad.

╰› name then takes him to a nearby park and sets him in a sandbox to which the menance decides to crush some other kid's samd castle. name yelped , " no dami , we do not smash other's sand castles" name scolded him as in the background the other kid started crying.

╰› damian watched the kid cry with a poker face but turned to name to see her talking woth the kid's very angry mom , " teach your kid manner bitch" the woman cursed her put as she grabbed her cryong kid by the arm and stomped away.

╰› name persued her lips , holding back the vile comment she was about to spit back as she watches them leave until she feels a tug on her sleeve. she turns around to see damian looking at her confused , " namie ?" he titled his head .

╰› name sighs aslnd leams down to kiss damian on his head , " it's okay dami , namie's okay carry on okay ?" name assures him. name watches from the swing set as damian carries on building sandcastles amoug other kids .

╰› once the sun began setting name picks up dami and head back to her car , " namiee " damian murmurs as his head nuzzles into her neck . " mhmm love you too dami " name answers back as she buckled him back him and drove them back home .

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ thanks for reading !!

[beloveds-embrace]

Fae 141 x human reader for @nightunite <33 reader gets another pet! masterlist

The first time it landed on the palace roof, the moon hid behind clouds, and Thrain stood at your side like a silent shadow, antlers gleaming red and wet with mist. He growled low in his throat, a sound that seemed more annoyed than alarmed, and you followed his eyes upward to the fluttering thing that drifted down like a wayward lantern.

It was enormous; that was the first thing you noticed.

Wings the size of shields shimmered in hues of cream and gold, like candlelight trapped in silk. Its body was thick and furred, round eyes glowing faintly like dew-lit pearls. It made no sound- only that occasional fwmp of wings as it settled, slowly, onto the stone courtyard outside your chambers.

You stepped forward, barefoot over the chilled flagstones, nightgown trailing behind you like fog. Thrain didn’t follow, but his growl deepened- until the moth turned, angled its head, and blinked at you with a very soft, very dumb expression.

Then it lit up.

Warm. Golden. Like sun through eyelids.

You let out a soft laugh- one of the few real ones in weeks, absolutely delighted. And Thrain, ever your grumpy guardian, gave a dramatic huff and turned his back, as though deeply offended.

You named it Glowy, of course. Because it did, indeed, glow very lovely and bright.

Glowy followed you the way shadows followed light- gentle, constant, oblivious to the fuss it caused. It adored Thrain, even though Thrain tolerated it with the weariness of an older sibling forced to share space with a chatty toddler. It waddled after you on fuzzy legs, or hovered beside your balcony, wings throwing warm light across your papers when you worked too late.

You loved it.

On the other hand, the court hated it.

Glowy’s light- soft and pleasant to you, like the sun taking form just for you- made fae eyes sting. It blurred their glamours, dulled their illusions and spells, made the more vain courtiers look like wilted versions of themselves. Nobles flinched as you passed, shielding their faces with jeweled sleeves. Glowy didn’t care. It only blinked and hummed and bumped its big, fluffy head against your shoulder like an affectionate sheep obsessed with its shepherd.

Even Queen Mother nearly stumbled into a column trying to dodge its path, and you swore you heard it let out a smug little trill, though you���d never dare say it outloud.

Truthfully, you thought the boys might command it gone- even if they haven’t even said anything about Thrain.

But that was not the case, you’d learn.

Johnny was the first to try and joke about it. “It’s like bein’ followed by a bloody fireplace,” he grumbled one night, shielding his eyes as Glow trotted in behind you during a late dinner. “M’gonna go blind, queenie. That what ye want?”

You only smiled and fed Glowy a slice of sugared fruit under the table. He glared but said nothing more.

Kyle muttered under his breath whenever it fluttered too close, ruffled his clothes, or knocked over his ink with a stray wing- but you noticed, once, how he draped a shawl over it when it curled up outside your door on a rainy evening. Even if he kept stumbling around a little because of Glowy’s light.

Simon didn’t speak of it at all. But he watched- closely. Especially when the court muttered too loudly or when Thrain and Glowy both flanked you in the halls, glowing and growling. One day, you caught him standing by the stables, watching Glowy preen its wings in the sun. He didn’t approach. But he didn’t walk away, either. And in the end, despite his own eyes squinting from Glowy’s glow, he offered it a big, freshy leaf.

John, then, watched you.

He saw how you smiled when you leaned against Glowy’s side during long meetings. How your fingers idly stroked its soft fur like a comfort you didn’t realize you sought. And when the light filled your room late into the night, pouring warm and golden through the windows, he stood at the threshold of your chamber, hand on the door- just watching.

Then, he sighed. Fuck.

Thrain still growls at them if they don’t soften their voice when speaking to you. It haunts them if they take up too much of your time, and stomps its hooves into the rotting earth underneath him whenever and stares into every nook and cranny of their souls when you are sad.

Now, there is another creature whose approval they need to get?

[whateveriwant]

The 141 getting you to stay in bed

It gets a little spicy towards the end so 18+ please

Soap

Waking up to the feeling of a numb arm is extremely unpleasant, but you suppose it comes with the territory when trying to cuddle 200+ pounds of rugged Scotsman

You manage to free your trapped limb and roll to the other side of the bed, but that space behind you remains empty for only about three seconds before Johnny's pressing himself flat to your back 

Now with his arms around your waist, he holds you tight to him, mumbling unintelligibly against the back of your head

He drifts back to sleep quickly enough, his grip on you starting to loosen, only for it to tighten again when he feels you try to wriggle out of his hold

The incoherent grumbles from his throat grow increasingly displeased the more you try to shift away from him, until finally he huffs a grumpy, “Quit it,” into your scalp, hooking his leg over yours 

If you still don't listen, he'll have no choice but to take drastic measures to keep you still. Fed up with your squirming, he simply rolls on top of you, pinning you to the mattress below him

You can try beating on his back, telling him that you can't breathe, but he just shrugs and says, “Use my breath.”

Don't even bother trying to explain how oxygen doesn't work like that, because he doesn't care. “Tough,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck. “‘Cause I'm no' movin’.” And by extension, neither are you

Gaz

Kyle is also a stage 5 clinger, but he's less boa constrictor and more baby koala

So when your alarm goes off at 8am precisely, it's no surprise that the man behind you grumbles in protest

“It's Saturday,” he bemoans. “Why you getting up so bloody early?” When you tell him you like to keep your routine even on the weekends, he just groans and mutters, “Five more minutes.”

You can try to squirm and wrestle out of his hold, but he'll just tighten his arm around your midsection, keeping his front firmly glued to your back

But you need to get up! You have to pee for goodness’ sake! 

“Use the empty bottle on your nightstand,” he mumbles into your hair, peeking an eye open as you crane to look back at him. The look you give him at such a horrid suggestion has him sighing. “Alright, fine,” he relents and releases you. “But be quick. Bed gets cold without you.”

Once you've answered the call of nature, don't be surprised to find Kyle waiting for you directly outside the bathroom. He's wrapped up in your comforter like an oversized burrito, only his face and feet visible as they peek out from under the plush cover

With a sleepy pout, he holds his hand out for you, tugging you back to bed with him. Oh, he’ll make sure you get those five more minutes alright. Even if he has to drag you kicking and screaming

Ghost

First of all, don't even kid yourself into thinking you'll stand a chance of waking up before him or sneaking out of bed without him knowing. This man is the epitome of a light sleeper, whenever he does sleep, that is

So when you do finally wake up, it comes as no surprise to see Simon already up too. But just because you're both awake now doesn't mean you have to immediately be productive; quite the opposite, in fact

With how busy and stressed he is all the time, Simon loves nothing more than to just lie in bed with you and do nothing for hours

If you try to get up, he's stopping you with a gentle hand on your wrist, his voice quiet but firm as he commands, “Stay.”

You'll lay back down for a bit to appease him, but it won't be long before you feel guilty since you have so many things you should be doing instead

But actually, no, you don't have  anything to worry about. He's already taken care of everything before you woke up, he humbly informs you

The cat's been fed, the bin’s been taken out to the curb, he's even gotten your breakfast typed up on his phone – just give him the word and he'll place the order

So now when he opens his arms for you, having you bury your face in his chest, you've got nothing to worry about except savoring this moment with him 

Price

John is also a very light sleeper, so it only takes .02 seconds of you trying to stand from the bed for his bear-like snores to cease and his eyes to flit wide open

He'll grab you by the shirt hem, mumbling, “Where’re y’ goin’?” But it doesn't really matter what your answer is because his response is always the same: “No y’r not.” And pulls you back down. “Y’r stayin’ right here.”

He'll lie on his stomach, face smushed in the pillow, a big, warm hand tucked under your shirt resting against your belly

With nothing better to do, you scroll through your phone, catching up on your socials, the news, etc., but it's not long before you hear him grumble, “Put that away, will ya? ‘S too early to be meltin’ your brain with that thing.”

Well, what does he expect you to do? Lie there and stare at the ceiling for an hour? “Expect you to be good,” he tells you. “Don't make me get the handcuffs out again.”

Now that you have to laugh at. If he thinks it's too early to be on your phone, it's definitely too early for that

He smirks, opening his eye just a sliver, and the hand on your stomach begins to rub soft circles. “Is that so?” he taunts, his touch sneakily edging downwards. And when he slips beneath the band of your shorts, well…

Let's just say you're not leaving that bed anytime soon

[fckmebarnes]

this man…right here. boy do i have some thots for him.

he’s so…he’s so beefy and fucking grumpy - him looking at you like that when you just came home late from work after a night out with friends. a little tipsy you might add, and not letting bucky know.

he was in shambles by the time you got home.

“where were you.” he doesn’t pose it as a question, just a statement. your eyes glided over to his frame sitting on the sofa, his back facing you and his arm stretched across the back of the sofa.

he was pissed.

“i was out, my phone died i, im sorry.”

he grunts before he beckons you with a metal finger and you gulp, sauntering your way towards him — trying to cover up the slight stumble you had.

he pointed to his thigh, ordering you to sit with no words being exchanged. you listened.

as soon as you got comfortable, his hands were on your hips, soaking your ass harshly.

“next time — you text me when you’re out.” you whine softly as you start to talk again but he smacks your ass to disrupt you.

“no fuckin’ back talk, baby. really?” he sounded fed up, annoyed — irritated. but his hard cock against your thigh mostly told you other wise

“sorry…” you mumble

you weren’t sorry and he knew that

he smacked your ass, gripping your hops before pulling you directly down on his thigh. “no you’re not. and i know she’s not sorry either.” he grumbles as he feels your wet underwear stick against his skin.

“clearly since she’s soaked already. isn’t that right?” he coos as he looks up at you, your brows furrowed as you meekly nodded, moving your hips with his hand movements

“ye-yeah…” you couldn’t think of anything else to say while he ground your cunt against his thigh slowly, agonizingly.

“you have a wet pussy all night baby?” you nod, biting your lip. because of him. the little treat he gave you before you went out had your mind fuzzy and hazy and full of him

just how he wanted

“good,” he grunts as he slips his two flesh fingers into your underwear and through your slick folds, moaning at how wet you were

[eevees-hobbies]

How the Hashira sleep with you and your 9-month-old between you

Author's Note: I was up at 2 AM last night writing in my notes app because this idea struck me. This is my first time writing headcanons, but as always, I’m inspired by some of the fantastic ideas of other content creators!

Content Warning: You have a child with your partner, and they sleep in bed with you. There is also a brief mention of breastfeeding. This will not be for you if you’re sensitive to those things. This is pure fluff.

How the Hashira sleep with you and your 9-month-old between you

Contains: Rengoku, Uzui, Iguro, Shinazugawa & Tomioka 

Kyojuro Rengoku 

Kyo was meant for this. There’s no reality in which Kyojuro doesn’t want to be a father to as many kids as you’re willing to give him. His arm is always wrapped around you both—having you and the baby in the same room as you all sleep, being able to provide comfort, body heat, and a sense of protection, brings him so much joy. 

Kyojuro wakes up periodically during the night to look at you both as you sleep. He will also pay extra attention to checking on your child, placing a large hand on their small frame and feeling the rise and fall of their chest; he’ll smile to himself—his child is happy, healthy, and safe. 

Rengoku is also great at soothing the baby when they wake up: “Shhh, little one. Let’s let mommy sleep.” 

Nine times out of ten, he’ll be able to put your baby back down to sleep. The one time he can’t, the child will need to be fed, and Rengoku swells with pride as he watches you nurse them.

Once you’re done nursing, he’ll quickly run to get you some water and a small snack because he knows it takes a lot of energy to breastfeed. 

“You’re a good mother,” he says as he strokes your hair, looking over your shoulder at your milk-drunk child. “I can’t wait to do this again and again.”

Tengen Uzui

Tengen is annoyed when you place the child next to you—you didn’t even ask him! You explain that it’s easier for night feedings, and the baby sleeps better between you both. He admits it’s true, and the change drastically improved his own sleep. 

But Tengen HATES giving up the level of intimacy he had with you and many times ponders if kicking the baby out would be the obvious solution. With venom in your tone, you assure him there’s no need to bother his pretty little head with such ridiculous thoughts. He is aghast, but admittedly, he likes that you’re protective of their child, even against him.

Eventually, the child moves to their room, and Tengen has you all back to himself during the night! And, oh, has he missed it.

Obanai Iguro

Obanai really wishes he could get his bed back and is grumpy at first as despite his small stature, he takes up a LOT of space when sleeping. 

But his heart melts as your child always curls up against him, seeking his father’s warmth and comfort. He’ll stare down at them, still unable to believe he contributed to something so beautiful and perfect. 

He’ll plant a kiss on his child’s small tuft of black hair and then on the crown of your head, his arm snaking around his child, and holding your hand while you sleep quietly. So yeah, he’ll start off annoyed, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

When you suggest moving the child out of your shared room, Obanai is taken aback.

“Let’s not be too hasty! They sleep so well with us.”

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Sanemi grew up sleeping in the same room as his family, so he isn’t surprised or put out that the baby sleeps between you both. 

He’d never admit it, but he feels a lot less anxiety at the thought of something happening to you and your child when you’re all sleeping together. 

Sure, sometimes he’ll wake up with a baby foot in his mouth or get woken up by a sleepy yet firm baby smack to his face, but he’ll grumble lovingly and drift back off to sleep, finding comfort in the fact that his family is safe and sound. 

Sometimes, Sanemi has to pull the baby off you at night when it spreads its limbs over your face. 

“Hey, get back here!”

Giyu Tomioka

Giyu is not a fan of a baby sleeping in his bed and will likely never be. He misses cuddling with you, holding your hand as you sleep, and waking up as the little or big spoon to your duo.

It’s hard to be a spoon in a trio—he feels more like a fork.

He’s an amazing father, though, and leads the nighttime routine of bath time, bedtime stories, and gently rocking the small baby in his arms. 

Eventually, he’ll rearrange the futons so that you’re between the baby and himself, which is his way of getting to spoon you again. Clever!

[lycheedr3ams]

I’m at the beach rn so I wanted to do a quick drabble with fem!reader x König at the beach. Light suggestive themes.

First of all, König does NOT like the beach. There’s too many people, it’s too loud, it’s hot, not to mention all the stares he gets for being tall, hot, and littered with tattoos and scars. Oh, he also wears one of those black surgical face masks to the beach.

König would never go to the beach on his own accord. You’d have to ask nicely beg him to go to the beach with you. He only agrees because he can’t have you prancing around in your cute little bikini with no big strong man to protect you from all the wandering eyes at the beach

König would pack so much water for you two. He can’t have you getting dehydrated! He would carry a whole cooler full of water bottles. You’d shove some snacks in there too, to feed your grumpy man and thank him for going to the beach with you

König has to be almost dragged to get in the water. He was never much of a water person; all his training is on land. He can’t watch for enemies if he’s playing mermaid with you, come on Schatz! He would absolutely NOT play mermaid, I’m sorry :( come on Schatz, grown men don’t play mermaid

After a while, König would get fed up with the water and go back to your spot. He would watch you the whole time though, making sure you’re not drowning or no one is getting too close. His eyes wouldn’t wander to any other woman but you

After an hour or so, König would demand you get out of the water for a water break. He’d make you drink a whole bottle before going back out to swim.

Oh also sunscreen. König gets really bashful when you have to apply sunscreen to him, but he has no trouble applying it on you. Hell, he has half a mind to paw at your breasts while he’s rubbing the sunscreen into those soft curves. You always bat your lashes innocently at him, and he grumbles and tries not to get a hard on. He also reapplies sunscreen to you every hour. You won’t get sunburn on his watch!

Going to the beach isn’t the most relaxing with König, though you know you’ll be well hydrated and cared for ❤️ and it’s all worth it to König when he gets to take you out to dinner afterwards in your cute post-beach makeup and sundress

[enwoso]

Could you write something where lovie is actually grumpy and moody to Leah and Alessia and has to have like time out and stuff and it ends with really cute apologies and cuddles

little miss moody | alessia russo x child!reader x leah williamson

grumpy masterlist

it started before the sun was even fully up.

alessia was used to waking up early - football and parent life doesn't exactly allow for lie ins anymore. but nothing could of quite prepare her for the sound of tiny, stomping feet heading towards her bedroom door.

the door swings open with more force than necessary and there stood you, your blonde hair a scraggy, tangled mess, your esme the elephant dangling limply from one hand and a face like thunder. the grumpiest scowl stretched across your little face.

"mummy," you huff, you voice sharp and already dripping with attitude. "i'm hungry."

alessia blinks blearily at the clock. 6:05am. as she groan softly, rubbing a hand down her face as leah stirs slightly beside her before settling back into sleep.

"lovie, it's still really early," alessia whispers, "why don't you come into mummy's bed and cuddle for a bit and we can make breakfast a little later?"

you didn't like the sound of that option, "no." you snapped back, stomping your tiny little foot for extra emphasis. "i want food now."

from beside alessia, she could hear leah muffle a sleepy chuckle into the pillow, "good luck, love." leah whispers under her breath.

alessia sighs but swings her legs over the side of the bed, quickly wrapping herself in her dressing gown before holding a hand out to her daughter. "alright, come on grumpy bear. let's get you fed."

"i'm not a grumpy bear." you fire back, yanking your hand away and stomping off down the stairs towards the kitchen like a little girl on a mission to ruin someone's day, leaving your mummy stunned as she left out a sharp breath of air.

today was gonna be a long day.

it doesn't get any better as you reach the kitchen. alessia tries to play it cool - not to draw attention to your sour mood hoping it would slowly melt away once you'd woken up properly.

as alessia worked through the usual morning routine as you sat at the table watching the tv with an almighty frown on your face as if a storm cloud was hanging over your head.

leah eventually shuffles in slowly, dragging her feet as she's wearing one of alessia's old hoodies leaning against the counter with a mug of tea.

leah catches alessia's eye an amused glint sparkling as if to say, 'have fun with this one.'

"what would you like for breakfast, lovie?" alessia asked keeping her voice light as she slips open the fridge while looking at you waiting for an answer.

"waffles," you grumble, your focus staying on the tv.

alessia's eyes scan the fridge, a wince taking over her face. "we're out of waffles lovie, how about pancakes?"

the silence that followed is heavy. then—

"no, don't want pancakes." you snap, your voice dangerously close to a full blown whine. "i want waffles!"

"lovie," alessia warns, already feeling the tension creep into her shoulder, "i know your feeling a little upset but you not going to talk to me like that."

"i'm not cranky." you grumble, slumping further into your chair, "i never get what i want." as you lay your arms on the table in further frustration.

across the kitchen, leah chokes on a laugh her smile being covered by her mug of tea. alessia shooting her a look over her shoulder that said, 'don't encourage her.'

"angel," leah says, trying to step in her voice smooth and playful. "you had waffles yesterday. at this point you're basically the princess of waffles-"

you just glared at her, "not funny, mama."

"oh ouch!" leah clutched her chest dramatically but the joke falls flat against your sour mood, you just looking at her totally uninterested.

alessia sets a plate of pancakes on the table, sliding it in front of you, "eat up or you'll be extra cranky." she says, sitting down beside you.

you huff, loudly and pointed but still you pick up your fork and stab the pancake like it had personally offended you this morning.

the attitude doesn't stop after breakfast. as alessia is trying to get you ready for the day, you tagging along to the training ground. you were on a roll.

first thing was you refusing to put on your favourite jacket cause it was 'too itchy' even though it was the exact same one you had wore yesterday when you went to the park with leah on your bike.

then the next thing, leah was fixing one of the bows on your head to make sure it was straight and not wonky on your head. you wriggling away with a dramatic stare, "your pulling to hard!" you groaned.

"i barely even touched you, angel." leah exclaims, moving back with her hands raised in surrender. alessia shooting leah a glare that told her 'not to push' as it was clearly just going to make matters worse.

"well it hurts." you shot back, clutching your esme the elephant tighter like the stuffed animal was the only one who understood your pain.

"alright, lovie, that's enough" alessia says firmly, her patience wearing thin as ice as she kneels down to lace your shoes up. "you don't get to be rude to mama, when she's trying to help you. it's not very kind."

"didn't ask for help though," you muttered kicking your foot out just as alessia had finished tying your laces, kicking hard enough to catch her wrist.  

alessia froze, her lips pressing into a thin line as she exhaled through her nose. leah's eyes widening slightly as she could already sense the shift in the air.

"okay," alessia began, her voice calm but edged with the same no-nonsense tone you knew too well. "you missus, are going to have some time-out time when we get to the lounge."

"but—"

"no 'buts' leah gently cuts in, though her voice is steady, "you're being unkind and you know that's not okay."

and for the first time today, you don't argue back. you know the battle is lost and so with a grumbled "fine" you stomped your way to the door, esme the elephant trailing along for the ride.

the entire car ride was silent, leah tried to get you to come out your little moody by pointing out some of your favourite songs as they came up on the radio.

alessia tried too, telling you about what uncle gio had been up to in australia but you couldn't have been more uninterested if you tried as you sat in your car set, staring out the window with the deepest frown ever.

as your mummy pulled into the arsenal ground and you got inside, the players' lounge usually being your favourite place as it was a sanctuary of snacks, soft couches and your honorary aunties who would spoil you rotten.

but today? today, you were sat on the little bench near the corner for your time-out time. 

alessia watched on from the couch, her arms folded across her chest as leah sipped on her second cup of tea of the day, her head shaking slightly.

"she is certinly on one today," leah whispered keeping her voice low.

"tell me about it," alessia muttered back, "i love her endlessly but she's really testing me today."

minutes tick by and your face stays scrunched up in defiance, your little legs swinging impatiently beneath the bench.

but by the time, your mummy deems you's sat there long enough to have enough time to reflect on your behaviour, your anger seems to be unraveling. your shoulders aren't as tight and your frown isn't quite as fierce.

your mummy kneels in front of you, her voice softer now. "alright, baby, whats going on?"

you sniffles, your lip trembling as the weight of the morning if finally catching up with you. "i sorry mummy," you whispered. "i didn't mean to kick you"

alessia's heart softened immediately. she opened her arms and you wasted no time crawling into them clinging tight. "i know baby," she whispered, kissing the top of your head. "but you still need to be kind even when your being a little grumpy."

you nodded, as you stayed in your mummy's arms. your face shifting to leah's, your voice small. "i sorry i was mean to you too mama"

leah's smile is warm as she reaches over, pulling you into her lap. "i forgive you little miss moody," she teases gently, dropping a kiss to your forehead. "you know i still love you - even when your being a little menace."

you gigle quietly, snuggling into leah;s chest as your bad mood finally dissolves completely. "i love you too," you mumble, your voice now sleepy.

and for the rest of the day, you stayed close. arms looped around your mummy's neck or curled up beside leah, as if making up for every frown and stomped foot, because no matter how grumpy you got there was no place safer than in their arms.

[jobean12-blog]

The Fine Print

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (CEO!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 4,126

Summary: You've been working under Bucky for almost a year and he's always been a grumpy ass and even though when the lines get blurred you can't seem to stay away.

Author's Note: These new pics and all the new gym shots and vids and yum! Just being fed so well! I like the idea of a grumpy CEO who just wants you and he's mad about it. No excuse for being a dick but he's not really all bad. And anyway, I'd never tell him no...haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Thank you Daisy for the lovely divider @firefly-graphics😘

Warnings: Grumpy ass Bucky (he's a total ass sometimes but has moments of softness), sassy reader, lots of tension, flirting, curses, fingering, light dirty talk

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You’re late. Only twenty minutes but it’s long enough that your grumpy ass of a boss will have your head for it.

Grumpy…and an ass but entirely too gorgeous.

You pick up the pace, precariously balancing your files and bags and hoping you don’t faceplant on the newly shined floors.

Getting a flat tire on the highway this morning wasn’t on your long to-do list for today, but it still happened and now you’ll have to deal with a very cranky Mr. Barnes.

You round the corner and enter your office, ready to give your usual sunshine filled greeting.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes!”

He’s standing at your desk, arms crossed over his broad chest and his eyes hard.

“Is it a good morning?” he asks, not bothering to move out of the way as you try to slip around him. “What time is it?”

You stop and meet his glare.

“I had some car trouble this morning. I got a flat on my way in.”

Your voice comes out steady and strong and relief floods through you. This was the first time you were late, and you were not going to be reprimanded.

“Trouble is quite the fitting word for what I’ve been dealing with in your absence.”

You glance up at him and his antagonizing stare, and blink away your surprise at his words.

“I would have thought you would at least ask me if I was ok Mr. Barnes,” you say sweetly and with a smile. “After all, how could I possibly manage to fix a flat tire all on my own.”  

His jaw clenches tightly.

“Obviously you managed,” he counters. “And you look just fine.”

Beautiful blue eyes wander languidly down your body before making their slow perusal back up to study your face.

You try to school your features and when he raises an expectant brow you bite back with, “Thankfully I am fine, and I got help but I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with the burden of picking up a telephone and sending an e-mail all on your own this morning. It won’t happen again.”

He takes a step closer to you and you stop yourself from swaying forward to get a hint of his scent.

Traitorous body. If only the fucker wasn’t so fucking hot.

“You’re right. It won’t,” he replies with a smug smile. “And just so you don’t forget, I’d like to see…”

He spends the next minute rattling off several project pieces he’d like to see completed and on his desk by the end of the day.

“And then you can make up the half an hour you missed by getting together a mock presentation for our meeting tomorrow.”

When your nostrils flare, he smiles triumphantly and dips his head, so his warm breath caresses the shell of your ear.

“I’ll see you in the conference room at six.”

He turns away and slams his office door behind him and you let out an exasperated puff of air.

“It was only twenty minutes asshole.”

You mutter the words under your breath as you plop into your office chair and continue to curse his name in grumbles.

There’s a light knock on the door before it opens and you know you’re about to hear the voice of your friend and coworker, Jess.

“I know you’re working through lunch,” she says. “So at least let me get you something.”

You don’t look up but smile nonetheless, your fingers flying over the keyboard with ease.

“Honestly, I don’t even think I have time to eat,” you say before hitting the period button hard and meeting her eyes.

Jess gives you a sympathetic look. “I’ll grab you something nutritious.”

She waves before gently shutting the door. You lean over to check your desk drawer for snacks, the mention of lunch reminding you that you are in fact, hungry. At the same time that you see you have nothing to eat you notice a tear in your stockings.

“Son of a bitch,” you grumble. “I just bought these.”

Less than a minute later your door opens again and without looking up from your screen you whine, “do you know what, after the morning I’ve had I think I’ll take something sweet…maybe a cookie. Or twelve. Or chocolate of any kind.”

When you receive no acknowledgement, in return you glance up and see that Jess is not standing at your door.

You quickly tug the hem of your skirt down, noting how Bucky’s eyes track the movement and linger on your legs.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes, I didn’t realize…”

“Since your morning has been so awful,” he starts, his sly smile growing, “why don’t you run down to the café and pick us both up some lunch.”

Your lips purse and once again his eyes seem glued to every action you take.

“Mr. Barnes, Jess has just come in and said she would grab me something to eat so I can continue working through lunch.”

When he doesn’t say anything, you continue.

“I have A LOT to get done.”

“I’m sure you’ll make it work,” he says before rattling off his lunch order.

He turns on his heel and takes two long strides back to his office, pulling the door closed hard behind him.

“What the f…?”

You don’t even finish the sentence when he opens the door again and pokes his head out.

“Make sure you get yourself something to eat. We’re going to be here late.”

The door slams shut again, and you abruptly stand, your rolling chair flying back into the wall as you storm off.

“Why does he care if I eat or not?” you ask yourself as you angrily stuff things into your bag and throw it over your shoulder.

The rest of the day goes by far too quickly and you find yourself cursing out the copy machine as you wait for the rest of your papers to go through. Checking your phone you see you’re already almost ten minutes late to your afterhours ‘meeting.’

You rush down the dim hall of the now empty building, your presentation materials clutched tightly to your chest and glance again at your phone.

Fifteen minutes. Shit.

As you near the conference room, you try to calm your breathing and slow to a walk. A soft light shines from under the door, and you know he’s in there waiting for you.

Taking a deep breath you knock.

“Come in.”

You walk into the large room, never failing to take in the view of the city that the floor to ceiling windows along one wall highlight.

At the head of the large dark wood conference table, sits Bucky. His suit jacket is hanging haphazardly over the back of his chair, his tie is loose around his neck, and the crisp white sleeves of his button down are rolled up to his elbows.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes. The copy machine…”

Realizing you’ve been apologizing all day, and it has made no difference, you stop yourself and lift your chin, walking over to where he sits and placing down your papers, sorting through them as quickly as possible so you can begin.

“Have you eaten dinner?” he asks.

His question takes you completely by surprise and you meet his piercing blue eyes with a confused expression.

“I uh…I had lunch.”

“That doesn’t answer my question sweetheart.”

At his sugared endearment, your eyes widen, and your breath catches in your throat, but you regain your composure.

“No. I haven’t.”

He just nods and gestures to the papers, clearly waiting for you to get started.

You lean over the table, searching for the paper you need and in your disheveled state don’t realize your entire lower body is practically draped over him.

“I just need to find…”

The words catch in your throat when you feel his fingers softly touch your thigh, slowly inching higher to reveal the tear in your stocking. His fingertips trace the sheared fabric and press against your skin, igniting it with heat.

Every muscle in your body tenses, your heart pounds in your chest and your brain screams at you to push him away but you don’t dare move.

“Look at me,” he demands, pressing his fingertips harder into your skin.

You straighten and turn to face him, his hand sliding up and over the curve of your hip to settle on your waist.

“Mr. Barnes?” you ask, keeping your eyes trained on his.

“James. Call me James.”

The intensity of his stare makes your breath catch and when he doesn’t answer and instead continues letting his hand trace your curves you battle with your emotions.

“The next time you have car trouble,” and his hand slips under your skirt again, “you call me.”

“What? Why would I?”

His fingertips graze the lace top of your stocking before he lifts your skirt higher and drops his eyes between your legs.

“Because I said so,” he murmurs, teasing along your inner thigh.

Your hand falls to the table to steady yourself and you willingly spread your legs open when he gives them a slight push.

“That’s hardly a good reason,” you breathe out.

“Fuck,” he growls, and his eyes fall closed.

You glance down at his lap and see him straining against the expensive fabric of his pants.

He smooths two fingers along the line of your panties, lightly pressing against your swollen and sensitive clit. His eyes open and he looks furious, fisting the thin material in his hand and in one quick movement, tearing it off.

He pulls you down roughly onto his lap, your skirt riding up over your hips to accommodate the wide spread of your legs as you straddle him.

An involuntary moan slips past your parted lips when he grabs your ass and drags you down over his hard cock.

When he opens his mouth to speak you grab his tie between your fingers and use it to pull his mouth to yours. Every sweep of his lips is heaven, and you release his tie to rake your fingers through his hair.

He makes a low, angry noise deep in his throat and you trail your lips along his jaw, kissing your way down the strong column of his neck.

His hand slides from your ass and slips between your legs, his fingers brushing through the wetness just before there’s a knock on the door.

You both go completely still and wait. When a second knock sounds, he quietly curses and gently lifts you off his lap.

You quickly pull your skirt down and smooth your hands over your hips. He watches your every move as he runs a hand through his mussed hair and sits up in the chair, hiding his legs and erection under the table.

“What?” he growls, loud enough for whomever is on the other side to hear.

“Mr. Barnes, we’re scheduled to do maintenance in here tonight.”

He curses again and continues to stare at you.

“I’m just finishing a meeting. Give me five minutes.”

“Of course, Mr. Barnes,” the maintenance manager, says, “take your time.”

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he splays his hands out over the tabletop. Hastily he stands and tries to straighten his tie, his eyes landing on your ripped panties that lie on the floor.

He grabs them and rubs the silky fabric between his fingers.

“Make sure you eat something,” he says and then shrugs on his suit jacket, tucking your panties into the breast pocket.

You’re clutching the table and staring as he grabs his briefcase and starts toward the door.

“It’s late. I’m going to have security walk you to your car,” he states, finally meeting your eyes.

His groan is pained as his gaze travels down your body and then he disappears out the door.

You fall back into a chair and try to calm your breathing. You’d have to be out of here in a minute and you didn’t want to look suspicious. Seeing movement outside the door you begin gathering your things and stand on still shaky legs.

With a deep inhale you straighten your shoulders and walk out the door with a serene smile, greeting the head of security and thanking him for escorting you out.

What the fuck just happened?

The next morning you’re making your way into the office when he walks in. You do nothing more than greet him with a curt nod, giving him a wide berth of space as you make your way to your desk.

You can feel his eyes on you, the lick of heat traveling down your spine. You’re wearing your favorite dress and while it’s appropriate for the workspace it accentuates all the right spots, and you smile to yourself as you bend down to retrieve something from your desk drawer.

Regardless of what transpired last night you are not going to let it affect your work. You felt powerful and confident in this dress and Mr. Barnes can fuck off.

You peek over your shoulder to find him standing halfway in the doorway of his office and staring. You raise your brows and blink.

He clears his throat and mumbles a short “good morning,” then steps into his office and slams the door.

You roll your eyes and promise yourself he’ll be the last thing on your mind as you set out to get as much work done today as possible.

As lunch approaches you grab your bag and reach for your wallet. Your fingers close around a crumpled piece of paper, and you start to smile when you’re reminded of what it is.

You knock on his office door and saunter inside when he says, “come in.” The receipt hits his desk with a smack and without an explanation you turn and walk back out.

You almost make it to the first step in the stairwell when you hear footsteps approach behind you.

“Where the hell do you think you’re running off to?” he calls.

You continue walking and make it down one flight of steps before saying, “to get lunch.”

He meets you on the landing and clutches your elbow, spinning you around and pushing you against the wall.

Your eyes narrow contemptuously.

He whips the receipt out and in front of your face. “Want to explain this sweetheart?”

You let out a wry chuckle. “You know for such a smart guy you really are an ass sometimes. It’s a receipt.”

“I can see that,” he says through clenched teeth. “What I want to know is why you’re making purchases for…lingerie…on my company credit card.”

“Some jerk ripped up my favorite pair of panties last night.”

You shrug your shoulders and try to skirt past him.

His hand meets the wall next to your head, his fingers curling and crumpling the receipt and you can feel how tightly the muscles in his body are flexed when he presses closer.

He looks tormented for the split second before his lips crash down on yours and your treacherous body melts into the kiss.

His cock throbs against your stomach as he tries to hike your dress up over your thighs. Reluctantly he steps back, making enough space so he can slowly slide your dress higher, above your panties and look his fill.

“I like this pair even more than last nights,” he simpers.

His fingers hook into the lace at your hip, and you grab his shirt. “Don’t you dare Barnes.”   

“You can buy as many new pairs as you want.”

He once again easily tears them from your hips.

Your lips part in shock but he swallows your sassy remark with his mouth. The roughness of his kiss is a sharp contrast to the way his fingers softly tease between your legs.

You need more but you’ll be damned if you’re going to beg him for it. As if he can read your inner thoughts, his eyes light up in triumph when he pulls away to meet your gaze.

“As much as I want to hear you beg me for it sweetheart, I already know how badly you want it. You’re soaked for me.”

“You’re such an ass…”

He slides a finger inside you and your combined groans echo in the empty stairwell, the insult dying on your lips.

His stare is intense as he dips his head to your ear, warm lips brushing ever so gently when he whispers, “say please and I’ll give you what you want.”

Instead, you nip at his jaw, stifling the moan of need that threatens to rise in your throat. He continues pumping one finger in and out, sweat beginning to bead on his brow and his teeth gritted.

You hiss out a curse that’s followed by a breathy “please.”

You’re expecting him to be smug but instead he slows his movements and languidly pushes a second finger inside you, clearly relishing the way your eyelids flutter closed and you clench around him.

“That’s it sweetheart. Show me how much you love it when I fuck you with my fingers.”

His words practically send you over the edge but it’s the press of his thumb to your clit that makes your legs start to shake and his name fall from your lips like a prayer.

When his head falls to your neck and he places soft kisses along your skin, traveling up to your ear to whisper, “come for me gorgeous,” you let go and dig your fingernails into his strong shoulders, finishing with a muffled cry.

He draws out your pleasure with the slow push and pull of his fingers before sliding them out and holding them between you, his skin glistening under the harsh fluorescent lights.

His fingers press to his lips, parting them as he licks them clean, clearly savoring every drop of your taste.

“I knew you’d be sweet,” he croons.

“James,” you whimper when your hands fall to his pants.

He grabs your wrist to stop you and pushes your hand away. With soft movements he fixes your dress, smoothing his hands along your curves.

“But…” you start, and he silences you with a kiss.

You’re breathless and your head is fuzzy by the time he pulls away and with a wink he steps back and says, “lunch is over. We have a meeting to attend.”

He turns on his heel and jogs back up the steps with ease. Your narrowed eyes follow him before you let out a frustrated huff and walk on wobbly legs in the same direction.

You had forgotten all about the meeting…the one you were supposed to go over the plans for the night before.

When you walk into the large conference room everyone is already seated and Bucky is of course at the head of the table. His eyes are trained on you as you walk to the front and place your things down near him.

The presentation you’re giving shouldn’t take more than ten minutes, but there’s a lot riding on it and after what just happened, you’re obviously feeling flustered.

You open your document and greet and address the room, doing everything in your power to keep your focus on where it belongs and not on him.

But when you pause your eyes lock with his and your ability to speak is momentarily stolen. His gaze is intense, the heat simmering there almost palpable.

With a clear of your throat you continue, fumbling slightly but thankfully recovering quick enough that no one seems to notice. No one but him.

His perfect lips raise in a lopsided grin, and he runs his tongue along the seam of his lips. It’s clear where his thoughts are, and you must tear your eyes away to unscramble your head. He’s obviously trying to fluster you and quickly your nerves are replaced with anger, and you use it to fuel the rest of your presentation, finishing it with ease.

You sit with a smile and lift your chin, challenging him with your eyes. He stares right back.

“Thank you,” he says, addressing you by your first name as he stands and commands the room. “That was an excellent presentation. Clearly, you were well prepared.”

You can’t tell if his words are mocking or meaningful and it sets you on edge. He moves around the room and answers any lingering questions before ending the meeting with a dismissive hand.

As people stand and gather their things, Bucky comes up behind you, pressing his chest close to your back as he leans in to pretend to grab something from the table.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to make it thought that” he chuckles.

To everyone else it appears he’s making a funny remark, but you can feel your skin heat at his proximity and taunting words.

“Ugh,” you say through gritted teeth. “You would have loved that wouldn’t you?”

You can feel your eyes fill with unshed tears, the emotions of the day finally catching up to you and when his gaze finds yours his expression morphs from haughty to soft in an instant.

It only sends you reeling again, the confusion flooding through you and before he can say more you gather your things and rush out the door. Unexpectedly, he’s hot on your heels all the way to the elevator.

There are several other people on it so when you stop at the next floor and more employees file in, you’re squeezed toward the back, pushed farther into him, your ass against his crotch.

He’s hard and you feel the rest of him stiffen with the sharp intake of his breath. You take a step away from him, as much as you can in the confined space, but he reaches forward and grips your hip to pull you back.

“Don’t move,” he whispers into your neck.

“I’m two seconds away from shoving my heel up your ass,” you seethe.

He leans even closer, keeping a firm grasp on your hip.

“You were deliberately trying to make me fuck that up!”

You turn your head to peer at him and his mouth falls open, brows furrowed.

“What?” he says.

“You heard me.”

When you reach the floor just before the top, everyone else exits the elevator and the doors close, leaving you both pressed together in the corner.

It starts to move again, and you jerk backward, falling against him as he leans into the wall.

His sudden growl startles you and then he slams his hand into the stop button on the control panel.

His body cages you against the wall and his breathing is harsh.

“I would never want you to fuck anything up,” he exhales. “It’s impossible for me to think about anything but you…how good you taste, and I haven’t even gotten my mouth on you.”

You hide your surprise at his confession.

“Yet.” He adds in a promised whisper.

“This is my career at stake Mr. Barnes. You’re the one with all the power here. What do you have to lose?”

“Me? All the power?” He laughs dryly. “You’re the one who does this to me…the only one.”

You feel him throb against your stomach and you can see the truth in his eyes.

“Then don’t be such a dick all the time.”

You mean the words to come out harsh but instead they’re a quiet whisper and your expression softens.

It’s all he needs before his lips crash to yours and he slides his hands down to your ass, squeezing his way to the hem of your dress.

“I had to sit there and watch you present, the whole fucking time knowing you had nothing on under here.”

His touch is delicate as he spreads your legs and slides a finger through your folds, already wet and aching.

“I was sitting there hard as a rock just thinking about bending you over that table, tasting you, fucking you.”

Your fingers close around his biceps, the soft fabric of his suit jacket bulging under the strained muscles.

“Is that what you want?” he asks as his fingers continue to tease you.

“Yes,” you answer as you grab hold of his tie and bring his lips closer.

He kisses you, never touching you where you need it most and when he pulls away, he presses the elevator button, causing it to start moving again.

He removes his fingers and reaches up to straighten his tie and when the doors open, he backs out, his voice low and deep when he says, “I need to see you in my office. Immediately.”

He turns and glides from the elevator, his long strides carrying him quickly toward his office and you can’t do anything but follow.

@blackwidownat2814 @hiddles-rose @kmc1989 @goldylions @lizette50

[kieranduffysgirl]

Hear me out…Arthur comes home from some job that he worked with John or Charles or Javier or somebody and his wife is playing with their like toddler daughter. Whether or not the baby walks for the first time is up to you

a/n: I loved this request soso much!! Been saving it for a quiet day to take a break from my bigger works, I love the idea of a grumpy Arthur missing his wife and daughter (yes he is a girl dad in my mind) and coming home from a rough job for a cuddle and a moment of appreciation 💘

Arthur trudged home, well back to camp, the closest thing he had to home. Dutch had been too relaxed on that job, too many close calls, too much pressure put on him. And now all he wanted to do was rush home to his wife.

“Just want m’wife.” He grumbled when John asked him if he was okay on the ride back, John just chuckled but he understood.

Arthur kept having to be dragged away from camp where his sweet little wife and his darling daughter were. It wound him up something wicked when Dutch dragged him away from them with a lack of care.

The previous night he had complained to Dutch, asking him to let him stay at home as his wife had been having trouble settling their little girl to sleep. But, of course, Dutch just thought he was being disloyal.

So, now he could finally get home he was practically rushing the other boys along to urge them back to camp quickly.

The sun was setting, and she was sitting by the campfire telling their daughter a story about herself and Arthur as she braided her hair gently. The little girl looked exactly like her mother, but had the same watercolour eyes and pretty little nose that he had.

A soft smile graced his face as he wandered over to the kind woman and the little girl, his arms wrapping around the pair tightly as he pulled them close.

“My girls…” He whispered softly, causing his wife to settle on his lap and his little girl to giggle and reach out for him. He pulled her close and settled the little girl between him and his wife.

He cradled them both close as if they were the most precious possessions. A small yawn escaped the little girl as Arthur toyed with the loose braid in her hair, as her mother pressed kisses to her beloved husband's cheek.

“Was it that bad?” She whispered lovingly as she turned to meet his lips with her own as their little girl slipped into sleep in their embrace.

He just nodded and grumbled, “Missed m’wife…missed m’daughter…Dutch was a pain and the other's were fed up to.” His arms tightened around the pair as she sighed and leant into him. A quiet snore left their daughters lips.

Arthur’s frown eased and his lips pressed to his little girl’s forehead, he felt at home and comfortable now. She could see that in the way he gazed at the little life he had bought into the world, in the way he kissed them both, in the way he held them so lovingly.

Even if life around them was troubling, at least they had the love of each other, even if life was harsh for an outlawed family.

[meowmeowriley]

Simon was not a morning person.

Johnny was.

He'd never have guessed it, Soap and Ghost were up at the crack of dawn on base, barking orders at their men and running themselves just as ragged. Had he never followed Ghost home for leave, he could've lived his entire life not knowing that tiny personal detail. Johnny had come to realize that perhaps some of Ghost's hard-ass personality came from him being grumpy after waking up too early.

That first morning in Simon's flat Johnny had gotten up before the sun, same as he did on base. He brewed coffee and waited for a bit, waiting for Simon to rise, but the other man hadn't moved from the heap of limbs and duvet he had contorted himself into in the bed. Johnny went for a run and returned and still no movement from Simon.

Eventually, at nearly noon, Simon sauntered out of his room and into the kitchen, duvet cocooning him. If Soap drew a very tired caterpillar and a butterfly with a skull mask in his journal later that day, that was between himself and God.

The second day Johnny made the mistake of attempting to wake him. He rose, but he was gruff, short tempered, and as the two went for a run together passers by gave them a wide berth, as Simon's glare could curdle milk.

The third day was when Johnny happened upon a stroke of pure genius. He woke Simon as he rose, unintentionally, and earned himself a few choice words that he couldn't discern as they were vehemently growled into a pillow. Johnny brewed his coffee, boiled Simon's tea, retrieved a packet of biscuits from the cabinet, and left it all on the table in the living room. He then returned to his sulking boyfriend, who hadn't yet gone back to sleep.

"Up, c'mon, tea's gonna get cold."

Simon grumbled and rolled to face him, squinting like a displeased cat. Later, a disgruntled black cat with a white face, flicking it's tail would be drawn below the butterfly. Any relation to real world events was purely coincidental.

"I'll carry ya if I have to." Johnny meant it as a tease.

"Like you're gonna carry my heavy ass." Simon rolled his eyes.

Johnny was never one to back down from a challenge, and scooped the larger man up from the bed, holding him bridal style. He didn't even try to keep himself from laughing at Simon's indignant squawk.

He carried him, blanket and all, to the couch and deposited him before his breakfast, which he promptly handed over. He noticed, later, that Simon didn't glare quite so hard at the old birds power walking the opposite way they'd been running that day.

The next day he carried Simon over his shoulder, the next fireman's carry, and the day after Simon wrapped himself around Johnny's front.

His favorite, and it seemed to be Simon's favorite too as he kept positioning himself for it every time after, had been when he'd turned away from the bed to glance out the window, and Simon had risen of his own accord. He draped himself across Johnny's back, wrapping the blanket around them both and nuzzling into Johnny's neck.

John had reached back, one arm up to thread his fingers through Simon's bedhead, and the other down, so that he could pinch Simon's ass, earning him a nip to his carotid.

Laughing, Johnny had slapped gently at Simon's thigh, "Up, I still have to make your tea.

Simon dutifully lifted that leg and then climbed up, arms bracketing Johnny's head, legs secure around his navel, and chin nestled into Johnny's mussed up mohawk. The man fit there perfectly.

From that day on, Johnny carried his overgrown koala of a boyfriend around the flat as he carried out his morning routine of keeping them both caffinated and fed.

Even after returning to base, and hiding Simon and Johnny away behind Ghost and Soap, Ghost would find Soap in the rec room and climb up to wait for his breakfast.

No one dared question the Lieutenant's slight change in behavior, as they enjoyed not having their heads ripped off.

[wosospacegirl]

ohhhhh also a katie x caitlin x reader sickfic would be cute 🤭 maybe reader is sleeping in the middle and katie and caitlin wake up to her burning up in the middle of the night and start taking her temperature etc. reader ofc is grumpy and delirious like ”get the fuck off me i’m trying to sleep” and katie’s there like ”can you just swallow this ibuprofen so we can all go back to sleep 😑”

-🦦

Sick - Katie x Caitlin x reader

Word count: 1k

a/n: sorry if this is a little off, I've been with a headache the whole day

..

Y/n had been grumpy all day. 

The kind of grumpy where everything sounded too loud and too bright, and her head throbbed like there was a tiny drummer behind her eyes. 

She had snapped at Caitlin during breakfast, mumbled through the warm-up, and by the time they were halfway through gym work, she was lying flat on a mat with her arm over her eyes.

“Just a headache,” she muttered.

But when she asked Renée if she could skip cooldown and sleep on the bench in the locker room, Caitlin’s eyebrows furrowed.

Katie didn’t even joke. 

That’s when they knew something was actually wrong.

Katie and Caitlin had practically dragged her to the Arsenal nurse, who confirmed what they were already suspecting: the flu. 

Low-grade fever, congestion, and a headache Y/n swore could kill a lesser woman.

She was grumpy the entire ride home, grumbling as they swung by the pharmacy.

 Katie got her water and a bag of meds; Caitlin kept a hand on her back as she walked like a proper zombie across the flat.

By the time they got in, she barely made it to the sofa before collapsing face-first into the cushions.

Katie lay down beside her without a word, pulling the duvet over them both, her arm slinging across Y/n’s waist. It was warm. 

Y/n hated how good it felt.

Katie snorted from her spot behind her on the sofa, arm slung over Y/n’s waist like she was making sure she didn’t crawl away. 

“Not before dinner,” she muttered, nuzzling into her hoodie to hide a tired smile.

Ten minutes later, Caitlin appeared with the bowl in hand and a look of determined care. She knelt beside the sofa, spoon in the bowl already.

“Come on. Just a few bites.”

“No,” Y/n grumbled, squeezing her eyes shut dramatically. “Soup is disgusting. I would rather chew glass.”

“You said you would rather die five minutes ago,” Katie pointed out helpfully. “Glass is a step up, I think you're already feeling a little better!!”

“Stop helping,” Y/n snapped weakly, already burrowing deeper under the blanket like she could escape them both.

Caitlin tried again. “Please? Just three spoonfuls. You need something warm in you, baby.”

Y/n groaned again, turning away. “I’ll eat literally anything else. Just not—” she gagged dramatically, “soup.”

She felt Caitlin sigh, felt the sofa shift as the auustralian sat down beside her legs, cradling the bowl between her hands, clearly not ready to give up. 

But it was Katie who moved first.

She leaned down, brushing warm lips against Y/n’s burning cheek. 

“Please, baby?” she said softly, voice low and unusually tender. “Just a few spoonfuls. For me?”

Y/n blinked, eyes cracking open, her brain fuzzy from fever but still functioning enough to notice something strange. “You’re being… weirdly nice.”

Katie shrugged, clearly trying to look casual but failing as she tucked a strand of hair behind Y/n’s ear. “You’re sick.”

“Yeah, but you’re never this soft.”

Katie rolled her eyes, but her hand didn’t leave Y/n’s cheek. “That’s why I’m never soft. You get all suspicious.”

Y/n smiled a little, a reluctant pull at the corners of her lips. “Hmm, whatever…you kissed me. I’ll eat your dumb soup.”

Caitlin beamed and moved in with the spoon before she could change her mind.

That night, Y/n fell asleep between them, head still hot, body trembling under the duvet.

Caitlin fed her slowly, gently, until the bowl was empty.Katie pressed a thermometer under her arm.

At 3 am, Y/n woke up drenched in sweat.

Her skin felt like it was on fire, her t-shirt clinging uncomfortably to her back. Her head pounded.

She blinked blearily into the dark, trying to orient herself—only to find both Caitlin and Katie hovering over her like two over-concerned vultures.

“What the—Jesus,” she croaked, her voice raspy and dry. “Get the fuck off me, I’m trying to sleep.”

Caitlin knelt beside the bed, worry written all over her face even in the low light. 

“You’re burning up,” she whispered, gently brushing sweaty strands of hair away from Y/n’s forehead, her touch soft and cool against overheated skin.

Y/n winced and turned her face into the pillow. “Stop touching me.”

Katie didn’t look the least bit fazed.

She stood on the other side of the bed, holding out a glass of water and a small pill between two fingers.

“Can you just swallow this ibuprofen so we can all go back to sleep?” she deadpanned, eyes half-lidded with sleep and her accent thicker than usual.

Y/n rolled onto her back dramatically, groaning as she took the water with trembling hands. “I hate both of you.”

Katie leaned down and kissed her forehead, not caring that she was a literal furnace. “We know,” she said. “Now take the fucking pill.”

Y/n swallowed it with a grimace, gulped the rest of the water, and then collapsed back onto the pillows like it had taken everything out of her.

Caitlin gently tugged the damp t-shirt off her, replacing it with one of her own soft hoodies before crawling back under the covers. 

Katie followed suit, tossing the duvet back over all three of them and shifting until Y/n was cocooned between them again.

And when she woke up several hours later—her head still fuzzy but the fever mostly broken—she found Caitlin curled into her chest, softly snoring, arm draped protectively over her waist. .

Katie was lying on her side, one hand loosely wrapped around Y/n’s fingers, like she had never let go even in sleep.

Y/n didn’t say anything. She just lay there, letting herself be held.

And even though she was still exhausted and sore all over… she felt just a bit better.

[jessiso]

"Stick with me"

A Criminal Minds one-shot | Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Hotch plans a sweet sticky note scavenger hunt to celebrate a quiet anniversary, leaving you heartfelt messages that lead to a cozy surprise and a reminder of your love.

cw: none just fluff

w/c 1,042

...

You’d always known Aaron Hotchner was a man of few words.

Not unkind or cold—just careful.

Measured. Intentional.

So when he left you a yellow sticky note on the bathroom mirror three weeks into living together, it caught you completely off guard.

“You hum in your sleep. It’s cute. I love you.”

—A.H.

You had stared at it, toothbrush in hand, heart fluttering. And from there, the sticky notes had become your love language.

They weren’t always confessions of love. Sometimes it was just:

“Fed the cat. Left you the last blueberry muffin. I expect praise.”

Or:

“Reminder: You’re brilliant. Knock ‘em dead today.”

Some were downright cheeky:

“If you’re reading this, I already miss you. (But also check the fridge. Surprise inside.)”

(Spoiler: it was your favorite cheesecake.)

And some were so simple they made your chest ache:

“I sleep better with you beside me.”

It had become a habit now. You wrote them for him too—tucked into his go bag, slipped inside files, stuck to the dashboard of his car.

He kept every one, you’d learned. Hidden inside a folder marked “Misc. (Keep)” in his desk drawer.

But today was different.

You knew it the moment you stepped out of the shower and found the first note stuck to the bathroom mirror.

“Follow me.”

The handwriting was unmistakable—firm strokes, slightly slanted, written with the blue pen he kept in the kitchen drawer.

You raised an eyebrow but smiled, wrapping yourself in a towel.

Outside the bathroom, another note was taped to the hallway wall:

“You make even Monday mornings worth waking up for.”

You laughed softly to yourself and padded forward, dripping water and good mood.

Note #3 was at the top of the stairs.

“Don’t forget: I fell for you the first time you yelled at me for skipping breakfast.”

You remembered that day. A whirlwind morning, him halfway to the elevator with only black coffee in his hand. You’d caught him and made him eat a banana. He grumbled the entire time. Later, he kissed you like he was starved. Said you were right.

A little trail of sticky notes led you downstairs, one taped to the bannister:

“I watched you dance in the kitchen last night. No music. Just you and your ridiculous socks. I never wanted anything more.”

You reached the bottom step and turned into the living room.

The sunlight was spilling through the windows. The faint smell of fresh coffee wafted in from the kitchen.

A small pile of sticky notes waited on the arm of the couch—stacked like a tiny paper tower.

You walked over, heart thudding a little faster.

“This is my favorite view: You, sleepy and soft, sunlight in your hair.”

“Sometimes I wake up early just to watch you breathe.”

“I was fine before I met you. But now I can’t imagine going back to that.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, already smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

God, this man. This stoic, grumpy, secretly soft man. He didn’t need grand speeches or elaborate gifts.

Just a sticky note. And a heart full of quiet devotion.

Another note was tucked under the TV remote:

“You’re getting close. Don’t stop now.”

You followed the trail into the kitchen, where he’d arranged another trio of notes across the fridge like magnets.

“Today marks one year since you said ‘I love you’ first.”

“It took me a week to believe you meant it.”

“I’ve never stopped thanking the universe that you did.”

You pressed your hand over your mouth, blinking quickly.

The anniversary.

You’d forgotten in the rush of life and laundry and late-night case updates.

But Aaron hadn’t.

Of course he hadn’t.

The final note was on the coffee pot, freshly brewed and still steaming.

“Turn around.”

You did—and found him standing in the doorway, tie loosened, sleeves rolled, barefoot and soft-eyed in the morning light.

“Aaron…” you started, overwhelmed and already a little teary, “You did all this just for—?”

He crossed the room in two quiet steps, hands gently cupping your face. “I love you,” he said simply. “I know I say it every day. But I wanted to show it. In the way you’ve taught me to.”

You leaned into him, laughing against his chest. “You hopeless, romantic sap.”

“I’m learning from the best.”

He kissed you then—slow and smiling and home. The kind of kiss that tasted like promises and coffee and the comfort of forever.

When he pulled back, he slipped something into your hand.

Another sticky note.

“P.S. Check the pantry.”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Oh? Another surprise?”

“Go look.”

You padded over to the pantry and opened the door.

There, resting on a shelf between the cereal boxes and oatmeal canisters, was a small white gift box.

You turned to raise an eyebrow at him. He just leaned on the counter, arms crossed, watching you with that warm, unreadable half-smile.

Inside the box was a key.

You frowned slightly, confused. “This… looks like our front door key.”

He nodded. “It is.”

“But I already live here.”

He stepped forward and pulled you close, brushing your damp hair behind your ear.

“It’s symbolic,” he murmured. “You moved in. You made this house a home. And I just… I wanted to make sure you knew it’s yours in every way. You belong here. With me. Always.”

You stared at him, eyes glassy, breath caught. “Aaron…”

“I love you,” he repeated. “Every day. In every quiet way I can.”

You threw your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder. He held you tightly, one hand stroking down your back, the other wrapped around your waist like he never planned to let go.

You stayed like that for a long while, wrapped in warmth and sunlight and everything unspoken.

Eventually, when you pulled back, you looked up with a mischievous grin. “Okay, but now I have to top this.”

He chuckled. “You don’t.”

“I do. You’ve set the bar ridiculously high. I might need, like… glitter. Or a marching band.”

“Please don’t bring glitter into this house,” he deadpanned, but his smile betrayed him.

You kissed him again—soft, slow, sweet.

Then you whispered against his lips:

“Stick with me, Hotchner.”

And he whispered back,

“Always.”

[izzih22]

can you do azzi being on her period and being dramatic, and she keeps pushing paige away but paige doesn’t go for it?

Go Away (Don’t Actually)

Note: Short one. Like really short. Sorry. @melpthatsme here’s 4!!

Azzi was sprawled across the couch like she was dying.

One arm flung over her eyes. A blanket wrapped around her like a burrito. A heating pad tucked against her stomach, and a bag of half-eaten chocolate-covered pretzels balancing on her hip.

Paige stood a few feet away holding a mug of tea.

“I’m not hungry,” Azzi mumbled, eyes still hidden.

“It’s tea.”

“I don’t want tea.”

“It’s your favorite.”

“I hate everything right now.”

Paige just stared at her for a second, then calmly walked over and set the mug on the coffee table.

Azzi sighed dramatically and flopped onto her side like a wounded Victorian heroine. “I’m gross and crampy and emotionally unstable, and if you loved me, you’d go away.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, lips twitching. “If I loved you?”

“Yes,” Azzi said with great solemnity, peeking out from beneath her blanket. “You’d leave me to die in peace.”

“No chance,” Paige said, sitting down and immediately pulling Azzi’s burrito-blanket form into her lap.

Azzi groaned but didn’t resist. “You’re clingy.”

“I’m caring,” Paige corrected, nuzzling into her neck. “And stubborn.”

Azzi tried not to melt, which was difficult when Paige started rubbing slow, perfect circles into her lower back.

“I’m bloated and ugly,” Azzi muttered into her sweatshirt.

“You’re literally the most beautiful person on the planet.”

“I’m not even wearing a bra.”

“I know,” Paige said, smirking. “And yet I’m still here. Suffering.”

Azzi gave a short laugh despite herself.

⸻

Ten minutes later, Paige had the heating pad plugged in again, the tea reheated, and her hand tucked under Azzi’s sweatshirt, resting warm and steady on her stomach. Azzi was still grumbling, but the grumbling had softened into whines.

“I cried at a dog food commercial this morning,” she mumbled. “The dog got old and they still fed him the same brand because he loved it.”

Paige kissed the top of her head. “That’s emotionally devastating.”

“And then I got mad at the kitchen counter for being too cold.”

“Reasonable.”

“I don’t deserve your love right now.”

“Good thing you don’t get to decide that.”

Azzi sniffled. “Why are you like this?”

Paige smiled against her forehead. “Because you’re dramatic and stubborn and irrational when you’re in pain — and I love you exactly like this.”

Azzi buried her face in Paige’s chest and muttered something unintelligible.

“What was that?”

“Don’t leave me,” Azzi whispered, suddenly softer. “Even when I say to.”

Paige tightened her hold instantly. “Never.”

⸻

They stayed curled up like that the rest of the day — tea gone cold again, heating pad shifting every so often, Paige massaging her lower back and whispering dumb stories to distract her from the cramps. Every time Azzi got grumpy, Paige just grinned and kissed her forehead. Every time Azzi tried to push her away, Paige leaned in closer.

And Azzi wouldn’t admit it out loud — not that day — but she slept better that night than she had in weeks.

[silvertheduckling]

Shadow headcanons!

Hello! This is my first time writing these so bare with me, but I have collected some headcanons and would love to share with others who are in love with this little grumpy hedgehog 🤣

This can be platonic bit I've written it romantically, also this is Mobian reader x Shadow. Otherwise I find it strange. Anyways without further ado here they are. It's like 400 words

•I think Shadow would be pretty closterphobic when it comes to small spaces or narrow passages. (Ark flashbacks) Definitely would try to hide it but would show in his eyes how weary of it he really was.

•I feel Shadow would have a soft spot for young children, though he would pity their innocence, he would, almost appreciate that children are free from anxieties. Envying that.

•When you are sick he would go almost crazy tending to you every second of the day. Making sure you're drinking enough water, fed, lots of cuddles and assurance. His anxiety would spike, because of how it reminded him of how helpless he would feel with Maria being sick on the Ark.

•I feel like he wouldn't eat much, feeling it like it's a waste of time because he can naturally sustain himself. but when you cook? You bet he will be eating all of it. Because he loves your food >.<

•I think he would love to have someone stroking his quills, running your hands through them. He can definitely purr and it would be because of those pets.

•definitely stealing his sweatshirt. When he finds you wearing it he will grumble and complain that you're stealing it without asking, but deep down he would feel a sense if pride that you choose to. If you ever say you're cold he would definitely open his arms and say "come here"

•He definitely takes motorcycle rides to relax. Treats his motorcycle like his baby. After awhile of getting to know each other he would love driving you places. I feel like he would enjoy taking you out to a small bar, playing pool and maybe having a drink or two before riding home in the sunset. Though he always makes sure you are wearing a helmet leather jacket and pants for your safety.

•Avid Star gazer. You'd find him on his favorite roof spot with a blanket down looking up at the stars. I feel like it makes him feel connected to Maria even when she's gone.

•Also loves to sing when he's alone. One time you accidentally find him singing to himself as he watches the sunset on the roof. He would definitely be unbelievablely embarrassed that you caught him. Then when you'd compliment his beautiful voice he'd do it more often when you were together. Especially when you'd request him to. He also enjoys it when you sing to him too, sometimes much more then he let's on.

If everyone likes this I will write more :3

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Setting In A Honeymoon

Series Masterlist

Read on A03!

Author's Note: Oh to be loved. (back on my using gifs because they fit the vibes not the plot shit)

Chapter Title from I'm Like A Lawyer by Fall Out Boy

Word Count: 5.8k

Summary/Warnings: You and Ben finally get a honeymoon. Takes place about a year post-series.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth-rotting fluff, Ben being old, pre-established relationship, so much horniness (would we expect anything less?), smut (breeding kink, oral, fingering, p in v)

“Sunshine-“

You hold a hand up—your attention still on the suitcases—and Ben falls silent, but you can still feel his glower. “Did you pack a toothbrush?”

“Of course I packed a fucking toothbrush-“

“And shampoo?”

“They’re going to have shampoo there-“

You shake your head, turning around and moving past Ben to the bathroom. “They won’t have the right shampoo-“

“It’s fucking shampoo.” He mutters, trailing after you to stand in the doorframe, watching you rifle through the cabinets with a frown. “It’s just goddamn hair soap-“

“And you have very nice hair, my love.” You walk up to him—bottle of shampoo in hand—and press a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw. “Let me take care of it.”

Ben’s frown deepens, even as his arm wraps around your waist. “That’s not your damn job, Sunshine-“

“Yes, it is.” You give him a wide smile, and feel all his love flare in your chest. “This is a two-way street, Pretty Boy. You refuse to let me fly on a plane, I refuse to let you neglect your hair.”

“Fine.” He grunts, leaning down to pull you into a long, easy kiss, going until you’re melted into his touch and clinging to his arm. But this is the last fucking thing, we need to go-

We have time. You pull away, reaching your free hand up to hold his cheek, your grin unrestrained and a little ditzy. All the time in the world.

Ben sighs, pulls your hand to his mouth, and kisses your knuckles with a deep glare you know is fake. If it’s not in the rough affection and devotion in his chest, it’s in the way he’s holding you so carefully against his body, like he can’t bear the idea of you even stepping away. “Be quick.” He grumbles, and you nod.

“I always am.” You drag yourself away from him, crossing back to the bed. Grumpy.

Shut the fuck up. He moves behind you, almost hanging off your body as you sort through the bags for anything else missing. Tell me how to make this shit go faster.

Patience-

No. Ben lowers his mouth to your neck, and you have to take a long breath as he starts to nip and suck at your skin. I want to take my wife on our fucking honeymoon.

Your wife wants to go on that honeymoon as well, but she also wants to make sure we have everything-

I have you, Sunshine. Ben’s hand grabs your chin, tipping your head back to capture your lips with his. That’s all I fucking need.

You let out a soft, blissful sigh. Romantic, Benjamin-

Only for you, darling. Let’s fucking go.

No, I need to feed Bowser-

I already fucking fed him-

What about the car-

Filled up the gas last night-

Okay, let me just-

Your silent words are cut off with a yelp as Ben scoops you up into his arms and marches you out of the bedroom, his whole body alight with a concrete determination.

“Benjamin-“

“We’re going now,” he grunts your name, shooting you a stern glare. “Everything is fucking fine, we’ve got all we need, and you’re going to fucking hurt yourself if you keep worrying.”

You pout up at him. “I am not going to hurt myself-“

“Yes, you are.” Ben half kicks open the front door of your house. “We’re going to leave, and you’re going to enjoy your goddamn honeymoon without losing that pretty mind about what could go wrong, got it?”

“But-“

“No.” He lowers you into the driver’s seat of the car, kneeling at your side on the pavement and blocking your path back out. “Look at me, beautiful.”

You glare at him, and he reaches up to trace a careful line over your cheekbone, dragging his thumb over your lip in a way that makes it very hard to act genuinely pissed at him.

“We’re good, Sunshine.” He mutters. “Ryan’s with Butcher, Annie and Kimiko have us covered at work, and if any shit goes wrong, which it fucking won’t, we’ll deal with it together.”

You swallow, nodding slowly. “And I get to drive?”

Ben chuckles. “You get to drive, you fucking brat.”

You wrinkle your nose at him, curling into the seat. “You love it.”

“I love you.” Ben rises up to press a kiss to your brow, hunger and his raw, focused love slamming into you like a train when you grab his face between your hands and pull him down into a full, devouring kiss. Fucking Christ, Sunshine, I love you.

I love you too, Benjamin. You pull back to give him a wide, easy smile. Am I allowed to go get the bags?

No. Ben smirks against your lips. Stay in your fucking seat, darling, or you’re not getting fucked for the whole week. 

You snort, because that’s the worst lie he’s ever told you. You don’t think Ben would survive not fucking you for the whole week. He’s been looking forward to this more than you’ve ever seen him be excited for everything. The closer you had gotten to your honeymoon, the more he looked less like a massive, grumpy, amazing man-child and more like a little boy who was about to be set loose in a candy shop and told to go crazy. It’s why worrying about this was, admittedly, a little dumb. Ben wouldn’t let anything go wrong. He’d refused Rome as a destination because he’d never let you fly if he could fucking help it. He’d chosen this resort because they had a very good insurance policy that would allow you to burst into flames and Ben to break a lot of things. He’d even hounded after Singer for a special permission to drive into Mexico, so that the border patrol wouldn’t get all angry about the whole supe thing. 

And you never doubt him. Not for a second. Ben never does anything but what he says he’ll do, and he’s sworn that this was going to be fucking perfect, Sunshine, and he was going make you forget your goddamn name, so it would be good. 

Ben was good, so this would be fucking good.

The drive is long. Almost three days, both of you determined to utilize the advantage of being supes and make it the full drive with only a few stops for gas and one night spent at a hotel near the border. The gas is easy—Ben always stomping out of the station with a prideful glow in his chest as he presents his snack assortments to you like a dog offering its owner a rabbit—and you only leave a slightly charred indent on the wall of the hotel after Ben slams you into it and fucks you until you’re wrapped in flame, but your amazing, impossible husband is not helpful on the actual drive at all. He’s still incredibly anti-GPS, and when he’s not glowering at the map on your phone—grumbling that he’d be able to get you there just fine by his goddamn self—he’s being distracting. Rubbing patterns on your thigh and tracing his hand up to just rest over your pussy, only smirking whenever you shoot him a glare.

“Ben,” your voice is a little strained, because the asshole has started to rub. “You’re going to make me crash the car-“

“We’d live.” He shrugs, pinching your clit in over your panties and drawing a loud moan from your lips. “Need you fucking ready for me, Sunshine, I’m about to fuck you better than you’ve ever been fucked before-“

“You know you’ve fucked me the most, right?” You give him an amused look, trying not to giggle as he pauses, an almost adorable frown crossing his face. “At this point you’re making up about 85% of all sex I’ve had, ever. You’re only competing with yourself.”

Something hot and bright flares in Ben’s chest, his hunger settling right in your core, and you realize your mistake a second too late.

“Am I the best you’ve ever fucking had,” he drawls your name, his hand resuming with long, lazy movements. “The only one who’s ever fucked you properly, like the perfect fucking problem you are, fucking ruined you-“

“Shut up.” You mumble, small lights starting to dance through the car as your face heats up. “Of course you’re the best I’ve had, you asshole, you’re my husband-“

Second mistake. That only spurs him on. 

“That’s fucking right, beautiful.” Ben leans over to growl right into your ear, spanking your pussy once and drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. “You’re fucking mine, and this cock his yours-“

You moan, grinding into his hand and thanking the universe that this highway is mostly empty. “Ben-“

“I’m about to fuck this pretty pussy full of me when we get to the resort,” he grunts, shoving a finger under your panties, right into your cunt. “Already so fucking wet for me, darling, ready to be pumped full of my cum-“

That’s enough. You flip on your turn signal, pull off to the side of the road, and almost leap out of your seat onto Ben’s lap.

The sex is quick, feral, and brutal. You half burn through his pants as you fumble with his belt, sinking yourself onto his cock in half a second, and squeaking as Ben wraps his arm around your waist, pinning you to his chest as he hammers up into you. You’re not quite burning, but you’re lost in the sheer power of the hunger and adoration in Ben’s body, and the sound of his skin slapping on yours, the way he’s biting and sucking at your neck, how deep he’s hitting inside of you-

You find release quickly, a second orgasm rushing through your body as Ben cums up into you with a roar of your name.

He drives the rest of the way—the combination of sex and almost two days of straight driving making your eyes start to droop, so Ben flat out refuses to let you keep going—and you slump in the passenger’s seat, your head buried in his arm and your mind a little high on the smell of pine and coffee and Ben.

You get through border security fast, mostly thanks to Ben’s sheer everything. You keep your face hidden against his body as he glowers at the guards, refusing to answer any sort of question about your lives outside of you’re heading to Mexico for your honeymoon, you have permission from the fucking president himself to cross the border with weapons—you’re the weapons, plus you’re pretty sure Ben has a gun in the trunk—yes, he’s over a hundred, but if these pussies try to act like they don’t know why he’ll fucking kill them, and obviously you’re fucking married, he’s wearing a goddamn wedding ring, and it was all over the damn papers after Homelander’s death.

“Nobody reads the papers, Benjamin.” You mumble as he pulls past the border checkpoint.

“Well how the fuck do those pussies get the news-“

“TV, you old cunt.”

Ben snorts, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and running a hand through your hair until you melt into his side. “Brat.”

You only hum, and the remainder of the drive carries out in easy silence as you drift in and out of sleep, Ben keeping you tucked into his body.

You don’t even realize you’ve arrived until you’re in Ben’s arms, and he’s carrying you up to your room.

“Ben,” you push slightly against his chest, your face still nuzzled into the crook of his neck. “Bags-“

“It’s handled, Sunshine.” Ben presses a kiss to the top of your head, his words low. “Go back to sleep.”

You shake your head, the movement not at all convincing. “Wanna help-“

“You’re on vacation.” He grunts your name, squeezing his gentle hold on your body. “Fucking rest.”

God, you’re going to kill him. You love him more than life and every beautiful thing in the universe, but that’s the fucking problem. Ben tells you to rest, and he’s alive and attentive and devout in your body, so you can’t stop yourself from falling right back into peaceful sleep.

When you’re up, Ben’s body is heavy over yours, his face buried between your breasts and his arms wrapped around your waist. You don’t wake him. He looks so handsome and calm against you, his snores rumbling easily through your body, and his love sitting in content at the top of your chest, so you’ll stay here until he makes you move. Playing with his hair and watching him with a stupid smile, humming softly and letting the room fill with rainbow mist and light until he stirs, looks up and you, and meets your gaze with his own, wide and powerful grin.

“Hi, Sunshine.” His voice is hoarse, his eyes still slightly glazed with sleep, and you don’t think spending eternity with him is going to be enough. You need him all the time before, and now, and a little longer than forever after. 

“Hi, Benjamin, my love.” You lean down to kiss his nose, and he makes a low, grunting noise that goes right to your core. “Thank you.”

He frowns. “I didn’t do fucking shit-“

“You’re here.” You whisper. “You’re taking care of me.”

“That’s my goddamn job-“

“And I’m still thanking you.” You hold his face between your hands, shifting slightly up to he every angle of him impossible handsome face. “I love you-”

The sound that Ben makes is low and primal, and you cut yourself off with a gasp as he flips you over, kissing you into the mattress and rutting into you until you’re writhing under him, scraping at his arms for more.

“Ben-“

He starts to trail sloppy kisses over your whole face, smirking as you let out another strangled moan. “You’re fucking perfect, Sunshine, fucking love you, so goddamn good-“

You whimper as he pins you to the bed with his hips, his mouth trailing down to your neck, over your collarbone, and his hand pushing between your bodies to rub fast, strong circles on your clit.

“So fucking beautiful, already fucking wrecked.” He growls against you, and you can only whimper. “Cum for me, darling, soak my fucking hand-“

You cum with a scream, and Ben groans as he jerks against you, something warm spreading over his boxers as he buries his face in your neck, his own orgasm sending a small, shivering one into your body.

“Did you just-“

“Shut the fuck up.” He grunts, nipping at your skin as he flicks your clit once, your back arching off the bed at the movement. “You’d cum like that as well, if you could see how fucking perfect you are.”

You giggle, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Grumpy-“

“I said shut the fuck up.” He growls, and you just hum, still smiling like an idiot. God, you fucking love him.

It takes an hour for you to get out of bed, and then another two to leave the room. Ben will grumble something that makes you jump on him, and then you smile at him and he’ll pin you to the mattress, or the wall, or just hold you up in his arms as he fingers you in the middle of the room. He tries to get changed and you fall to your knees to take his cock into your mouth. You bend over to pick something up and he drives himself into your cunt from behind. The only reason it ever comes to an end is because your stomach growls, Ben’s head shoots up from between your thighs, and you’re suddenly being dragged down to the lobby for breakfast. 

The day from there is slow and lazy. Wandering around with no destination, Ben’s hand tangled naturally in yours, acting like you can’t see the people silently watching you with whispers and wide eyes. You’d expected it, but it’s still strange, and you’re more than happy to let Ben handle it whenever someone crosses a line. Mostly it’s just the stares, but one very drunk man tells you he could give you cock better than any old Hollywood asshole, and you have to act like it doesn’t make you ache for Ben when he draws to his full height, puffs out his chest like a lion, and hisses that he’s the only fucking asshole in the world that could handle you, because you burn this pussy to fucking charcoal in a second. Then a rich finance dick tries to get Ben to invest in his crypto business, and you get to smile like a dummy as Ben snaps that his wife thinks crypto is stupid as fuck, and she’s smarter than this fucking idiot by a goddamn mile. The best one is when a very stupid woman comes up to Ben and tell him he deserves a real, truly American woman, and you get to watch him go tense and—pulling you so close you think he’s worried you’ll vanish into thin air—sneer that he’s already got the best fucking woman in the goddamn world.

But outside of these sparse moments, it’s all so fucking easy. Ben flat out refuses to wear a Hawaiian shirt because he’s not goddamn Butcher, but you get him into a loose, white linen one that makes you almost climb on top of him in the middle of a very crowded shopping center. He buys you flowers—shoving them into your hands with a low grumble of for you, beautiful and a radiant glow blooming over his ribs—and then tucks one behind your ear with a grin, looking at you like you’re holy. There are a few moments when you have to slap him for saying things that really do prove he’s a hundred years old, but you’d expected that. You know who you psychically bound yourself to for eternity, and it’s a grumpy old man who frowns as you explain why he can’t say that, then nods and never says it again. He doesn’t apologize—Ben so rarely apologizes, and it’s only ever to you and Ryan—but he learns, and he tries, and you love him even more.

It’s only when you go to the beach and you remember why you’d try to talk him out of honeymooning anywhere near the ocean, that the day comes to a crashing halt in the best way possible.

Ben shouldn’t be allowed near a beach. His skin glows golden, and his eyes look greener than the sea, and his bare chest is broad and muscular and covered in a light layer of sweat that you want to taste-

“You’re drooling, Sunshine.” He mutters in your ear, and your knees almost give out from the force of the want in his body. “You need something?”

You swallow, looking up into his lust-blown eyes, and your voice is soft and breathless. “Ben-“

“Fucking Christ,” he grunts you name, spinning your body to fully press into his, his hands drawing rough patterns on your hips. “You’re so fucking beautiful, darling, driving me fucking insane, want to fuck you until everyone can see that you’re mine-“

And that’s enough. You grab Ben’s wrist, spin on your heels, and drag him after you as you half-run back to the hotel.

You make it about ten steps before Ben pulls you back into his arms, picks you up without breaking pace, and marches you back to the room.

You’re barely through the door when you squirm in his hold, reaching down to palm at his bulge over his shorts. Ben groans right in your ear, his grip on your body tightening, and you grin as he twitches at your touch. You manage to twist in his arms, offering yourself more access to slip your hand right into his trunks, wrapping your hand around his thick cock and start to jerk him off with slow, teasing movements

Ben growls, prying you off his body to lower you onto the mattress, standing above you with a stern glare you can feel right in your pussy. 

“Jesus, beautiful,” he grunts, tangling your hair in his fingers, tracing your parted lips with his thumb. “Such a needy fucking brat, need to be damn careful-“

“Or what?”

His throat bobs, and you feel the glow over his ribs grow starved, all of it focused into you, and he says your name in a low warning. “You’re- Fuck,tell me what you want, brat.”

You run your hand up his thigh, making your eyes big and pleading, letting little bit of your sheer desire leak into Ben’s body. “Want you, my love. Want your cock filling me up.”

“Fuck.” He grunts, his jaw clenching as you pull down his shorts. “Want me to fuck your mouth, Sunshine? Want me to feed you with my cock until you’re begging for more-“

You know Ben. He’ll keep dirty talking and taunting you until you either fold into him and start begging before you even taste him, or you explicitly tell him want your big cock on my tongue, Ben, please.

And you might have said that between your minds, because Ben’s grip on your hair does tighten, but it doesn’t matter because you’re not bothering to wait. You take Ben into your mouth in one motion—until your nose is pressed to his abdomen and the head of him is bumping the back of your throat—and look up at him under hooded eyes.

He’s holy. He looks feral—his eyes almost wholly black and his full mouth parted as he stares at you—and a low growl escapes his chest as you hollow your cheeks, lick the underside of his cock, and speak in a needy, high plea into his mind. Fuck my mouth, Ben, please-

You moan as he tugs you almost fully off of him, lets you flick your tongue against the weeping slit of his cock, and shoves your back down until you’re gagging. 

He pauses, his grip loosening slightly as his stone-like concern wraps over your skin, and his voice is strained from above you. “You-“

I’m good. You reach a hand to play with his balls, making your eyes soft and pleading when you look back up at him. Please, just fuck my mouth-

“Fuck.” He groans, repeating the same movement from before, once, twice, over and over until you’re drooling on him, your fingers on his balls light and uncontrolled as you grow cockdrunk. “You’re fucking perfect, Sunshine, goddamn beautiful choking on my cock, pretty lips made to be wrapped around my fucking dick, making sounds like fucking music, sucking on me like a fucking brat, so fucking good-“

You whine around him, your thighs rolling as you try to bunch the sheet between them, and Ben chuckles, the sound raspy and hoarse and shooting through you like lightning.

“Need some help, beautiful? Got a fucking problem, so fucking wet and desperate for me, just from sucking my fucking cock like a good fucking girl-“

God, he can’t be allowed to speak during sex. You’ll never be able to stop him—it would be downright cruel to your pussy, pulsing and grinding against nothing, soaked just from the deep sound of Ben’s voice—but he’s going to make you lose your mind. 

Ben, you moan between your heads, and his dick jerks, heavy on your tongue. Please, need you so bad-

He pops you off of him, angles your head up to hold his gaze, and you whine at how fucking good he looks. How his chest is heaving, and his eyes are pulling you apart under him, how he drags you up to crash into him halfway, making you moan down his throat from his demanding kiss.

“Fucking love you,” he grunts your name, biting on your lower lip and smirking as you start to try and climb up his body. “Want to fill you up, Sunshine-“

You nod franticly, squirming against him. “Fuck, yes, yes please-“

“You want my fucking cum, beautiful?” Ben growls, and when you glance down you don’t miss the way his own words are making his cock jump against nothing. “Need me to stuff that pretty pussy full of me, mark you up with me-“

“Yes,” your moan is shameless, because god, you’ll give him whatever he asks for, and take anything he offers you. “Please, Ben, fuck me, want your cock, want your cum-“

You gasp as Ben rips off your fully ruined swimsuit, tosses you back on the mattress, and shoves your thighs apart with rough hands.

“So fucking wet,” he mutters, running two fingers between your folds, looking up at you with an awe and love that feels slightly out of place for how he’s plunged those two fingers inside you, crooked them in your cunt, and started to rub right against that deep, desperate spot. “Squirt on my hand, darling, need you fucking soaked for my cock-“

Your body obeys his command without thought, and cum with a choked gasp of Ben. 

“There you go,” he growls, scissoring his fingers as your back arches off the bed, keeping his movements careful and measured as he drags you through your orgasm. “Good girl, so fucking good, just for me-“

Just for you, Ben, please. You grab at his wrist with a slack grip, grinding helplessly against his hand. Please, fucking please, my love-

He pulls his fingers away, flicking your clit once and smirking at your high whine before positioning himself between your legs, slowing pumping himself as he scans over your flushed body.

“Beautiful,” he mutters, and it seems to be mostly to himself. “Fucking perfect, love you so fucking much, Sunshine, you don’t have a goddamn clue-“

You have sort of a clue—he does tell you that about five times a day—but your words and mind are lost in a daze of Ben, so all you do is reach pathetically up for him, spreading your legs wider with a sound of need to beg him to just take you. Just fuck you like no one else can, like no one else ever could.

“Christ.” He grunts, shaking his head slightly. “You’re- fuck-“ Ben doubles over with a groan as you raise your arms over your head, your legs splayed fully apart in a silent plea.

Benjamin. You take a long, heavy breath, rolling your hips for him with your best sweet, pleading gaze. Fuck me.

The sound that leaves Ben might be the deepest you’ve ever heard, and his voice is downright animalistic as his hand trails over your abdomen and inner thighs, sending a shiver through your spine. 

“Arms stay up.” He orders, and you nod, moaning as Ben crawls over you, lining himself up to shove into your needy cunt. “Don’t stop looking at me.”

You barely have a moment to hum an agreement before Ben shoves into you, and everything turns into an intoxicating haze of Ben. He’s hiked your leg over his waist to push deeper into your cunt, the tip of his cock slamming into your cervix, and trailed a hand up your arms to pin your hands to the bed, leaving you open and vulnerable for him to use.

And fuck, he’s using you. Ben’s thrusting his cock into you at a feral pace, his mouth biting and sucking everywhere he can reach, pulling you so high you can only moan and whimper his name as he ruins you.

“So fucking perfect, darling,” he groans against your throat, and you throw your head back with a high whimper. “Gonna fuck you full, fill your perfect fucking pussy with my cum, get you fucking round and beautiful with my baby, show the world how good I fuck my wife, how fucking desperate you are for my cock-“

You make a high, breathy noise, writhing under Ben’s touch as his free hand moves to roll your nipple between his fingers. “Fuck, Ben-“

“Say my name, Sunshine, fucking scream so everyone knows you fucks you right, tell the whole damn hotel who you belong to-“

“Ben!” You can’t remember any other words as he moves his hips in a circle, angling you a little higher to somehow hit deeper inside of you. You can’t touch him—your hands still trapped over your head—but he’s so good, and you’re so full, and fuck, you might be crying with pleasure as he bites on your shoulder, and you know whatever mark he leaves will fade in a second but god, you want it to stick- 

“Fuck,” Ben hisses your name as you squeeze around him, and your eyes roll back in your head as his hand snakes between your bodies and he starts to circle around—but never on—your clit. “You’re so fucking good, beautiful, tight and warm, wrecked on my cock, you’re perfect, love you so fucking much-“

“Ben,” you trying to keep your eyes on him, his face filled with a zealous care and hunger, but fuck you need to come so bad. “Ben-“

“All goddamn stupid when I fuck you, smart fucking mouth all, fuck-“ Ben kisses you into the mattress with a brutal force, shoving his tongue down your throat as his thrusts grow sloppy. Christ, need to cum in you, darling, you’re- Fuck- Ben’s hips stutter and you squeak down his throat. Cum with me, Sunshine-

You let go with a scream right as Ben pinches your clit, and he slams home with a roar of your name. You feel his warm cum spread inside you, leaking slowly down your thighs as he pulls out, and when Ben drops his weight carefully down over you—his head resting on your chest as you move your arms to wrap around his neck—you hum in happy, fucked out, empty-minded content.

“You’re really having a lot of fun with the baby thing, my love.” You mumble, and Ben rolls his eyes. 

“You fucking love it.” He pauses, something sore settling over his skin as he frowns up at you, and you can’t stop the small smile crossing your face at the stone like protection wrapping around your body, Ben’s grip on you tightening like he’s trying to protect you from ghosts that never exist when he’s at your side. “You-“

“I do love it.” You whisper, leaning down to give him a soft kiss. “I love you.”

He grunts. “You’re fucking certain-“

“Positive.” You smile against his lips. “With you, Benjamin, I’m always positive.”

His nostrils flare slightly, and everything fades back into furious, bloody, unwavering love in his body. “Then we’ve got a goddamn week to make sure it happens, Sunshine.” He growls, rolling his already semi-hard cock against your thighs. “You’re going to look so fucking beautiful when I get it to stick.”

He always avoids the words when you’re not actively fucking, and youknow why. Ben never seems to fully trust that you’re really ready for this. Not because he doesn’t trust you, not because he doesn’t want it more than you do—if the way he flares and bursts over your ribs at the very mention of it isn’t proof, the way that you’ve caught him staring at baby cribs and clothing when you walk through Costco is—but because he’s a stubborn, protective, amazing asshole who values your comfort above everything else in the world. Once a douchebag congress member accused you of illegally aborting Homelander’s baby, and Ben interrupted the hearing to hold your cold, frozen body against his chest and roar some of the most violent threats you’ve ever heard at the committee.

But Ben’s not Homelander. He’s the furthest thing from Homelander. He’s the light that’s dancing over the room as you lay in his arms, and the whole world inside your body, and the best thing that’s ever happened to you in your life. He gives you everything, and more, and the only thing that could ever be better than him is what you could offer him.  

The only person in the whole world who, after everything, could ever want to offer that.

So you smile at him, playing with the hair of his beard, and crane your neck to whisper against his lips. “When you fuck me full of a baby, Benjamin? When you get me pregnant?”

Ben stiffens, his cock already hard once more and prodding against your thigh, his voice so low you almost cum on the spot. “Christ on a fucking cross,” he mutters your name, ardor and a fervorish, wrathful reverence exploding in his chest, all aimed at you. “You’re going to fucking kill me-“

“No, I won’t.” You grind up into him, and he hisses. “But I am going to let you fuck me stupid, Pretty Boy, let you fill me up with your baby-“

Your blatant bait works. Ben sits up in a sharp movement, pulling you with him, and impales you back on his cock in one, smooth movement.

“Such a fucking brat.” He grunts in your ear, his hands on your hips holding you still, forcing you to just fall into his warmth and clench desperately around him. “You want my cum, beautiful?”

You nod stupidly, and he smirks.

“Words-“

“Want it, Ben.” You moan, clinging to his body. “Want you.”

“You’ve got me, Sunshine.” He mutters, squeezing your ass with a firm hand. “Now be a good girl and take me.”

You half-scream as he starts to move, and you could be happy dying here. With a husband that loves you with such a raging strength, who fucks you so good that all you can do is grow slack in his hold and let him abuse your cunt until you’re his in every way possible.

And you already are. He’s alive inside of you, and molded into you, and wears a matching ring to yours that you think he’d sear into his skin if he could.

But God, it will never be enough. Ben is more than enough, but you’ll never be satiated of him. 

You could never be satiated of him. 

And that’s why, when he cums into you again, you really do hope it sticks. Because the only thing could ever be better than Ben was a bright-eyed, cared for, happy bundle of evidence that you belong to each other forever. A child that will never know the pain you and Ben have held each other through, because Ben doesn’t allow people he loves to be in pain.

And he really deserves more people to love. His own piece of proof that you trust him more than you trust yourself, that he’s repented and you’ll offer him a million smiling children for everything he’s done for you. For how well be cares for you, and how well you know he’ll care for them. For how it will be hard, but worth it, because you’ve bled for less and cried for more. 

And no matter what any form of family comes, you’d never want it with anyone but Ben.

End Note: God please send me someone who's as down bad for me as Ben is for Her.

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