#the first 3 are from months ago oops

[ssalballoon]

bg3 aggie doodles (1 layer and a dream)

bonus: not from aggie but look at this microorganism gale

[solariex]

someone save me from the idiots ive been stuck with for 5+ years...

[piastriprincess]

hate  to  be  lame  ⸻  oscar  piastri  x  reader  .

featuring  oscar  piastri  ,  driver!reader  ,  not - so - secret  relationship  (oops!)  ,  first  i  love  you  . word  count 1.8k author’s  note  part  iii  of  the  orange  show  speedway  extended  universe  !  this  is  a  certified  self  indulgent  piastriprincess  banger  .  sorry  i  literally  can’t  leave  these  two  alone  <3  they’re  my  babies  and  i  love  them  too  much  !  also please  suspend  your  disbelief  that  a  racing  bulls  driver  would  ever  be  allowed  to  win  a  race  that  max  verstappen  was  competing  in  .  as  always  let  me  know  what  you  think  and  lmk  if  you  have  any  requests  !  title  is  from  hate  to  be  lame  ,  also  by  lizzy  ! 

“And that is P1. Congratulations! Incredible, incredible job.”

This is it. The moment you’ve quietly dreamed of for your entire career, your most secret hope you’d never dare to speak out loud, the fantastical what-if you’ve scribbled into manifestation journals made entirely real. First place. You’ve won a Formula One race.

Your cheeks feel wet, suddenly. You think you might be crying inside your helmet. Not the elegant, misty kind you’d imagined once after a particularly good qualifying — these are real, messy, chest-heaving, happy tears.

“Yes!” you manage to choke out, half-scream and half-sob, as you start your cooldown lap, waving to the crowd as you pilot the car around the familiar track. “Oh my god, I can’t believe it. Thank you guys. Amazing race.”

“Believe it, superstar. You’re a race winner,” your engineer says fondly in your ear, her voice wavering around the edges; you think she might be crying a little bit too. There’s silence, for a minute, and you use it to try and control your heartbeat, hands trembling around the wheel. When she crackles through the radio next, her tone is careful, but you swear you can hear the twinkle in her eye. “Rest of the podium is George in P2 and Oscar in P3, by the way. Thought you might want to know.”

You nearly laugh, already sore-throated and giddy with joy. Oscar’s on the podium. Your Oscar, who’s been the quiet constant in your life since that night at the hotel pool in Jeddah, who believed you could do this even when you didn’t believe it yourself. You won, and you get to share it with him. The thought makes your heart feel impossibly full in your chest. 

It’s been nearly six months since the two of you started dating. You’re not keeping it a secret, not exactly. Just… private. You’ve become well versed in the art of stolen moments during race weekends, summer breaks spent together in Melbourne and your hometown, late-night phone calls where you fall asleep mid-sentence and wake up to Oscar’s muffled snores. It’s been nice, having something that only belongs to the two of you. Something quiet, steady, yours. 

Still, the people who need to know in the paddock know. Oscar, ever the rule follower, had been endearingly meticulous about the whole thing, pulling up HR protocols on his laptop one evening and mumbling something about team loyalty and not jeopardizing your contract. You had to crawl into his lap and kiss him until the adorable worry lines between his eyebrows melted away. 

Outside of your team principals, you’d decided to let people discover it on their own. Isack was the first to figure it out, sending you a blurry photo of the two of you holding hands leaving a team hotel with a caption that included a lot of French swear words you had to Google Translate and an incensed demand to tell him absolutely everything.

Your engineer was next — you were somewhat unsubtle over the radio when Oscar and Max crashed out in Singapore, abandoning your usual quiet focus to blurt a number of panicked questions about whether Oscar was okay. She had a PhD in mechanical engineering, but it probably wouldn’t have taken a genius to connect the dots. 

Lando was the most memorable. He’d barged into Oscar’s driver’s room a few weeks ago without knocking in typical Lando fashion, chattering on about needing a phone charger, only to stop in his tracks and scream so loud nearly the entire garage heard him. In his defense, it had been a bit of a scene: Oscar pressing you into the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist, both of you so caught up in the heated kiss that you hadn’t even noticed the door open. The two of you had flown apart like shrapnel at his reaction; you’d gone completely crimson and Oscar had looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. The real drama came later, though, when Lando found out he hadn’t been the first to know and sulked theatrically around the paddock for days. 

You’re still smiling to yourself at the thought of celebrating with Oscar as you finish your cooldown lap and pull into parc fermé, body buzzing with half-adrenaline, half-disbelief. It’s like an out-of-body experience, everything feeling disconnected, like you’re watching yourself live your happiest moment from the outside in. Luckily, you’ve seen your boyfriend win enough times this season to be able to do what comes next on autopilot — park the car, climb on top, wave to the crowds, pose for photos. The crowd noise in your ears is deafening, but you manage to keep your composure. 

It’s what you’d promised, after all, one lazy off-week Saturday. Oscar had insisted that before the season was over, the two of you would be on the podium together, and that you had to figure out a ‘protocol’ for when the moment came. 

“We’re going to have to be really careful,” he’d said, tracing patterns on the curve of your bare shoulder as you lay tangled together in his bed. “Like, serious strategy. I need a plan in advance, because if you’re up there next to me with that smile you get when you’re really happy, I won’t be able to think straight and then I’ll end up making it way too obvious to the entire world that I’m head over heels for you.”

You’d blushed and swatted at him, but you’d agreed: if it ever happened, you’d keep it lowkey. Separate celebrations, professional congratulations. Save your moment together for later, when there weren’t hundreds of cameras tracking your every move.

But now that the shoe’s on the other foot, Oscar has apparently forgotten every single thing you talked about, because when he pulls into his P3 spot behind you, he doesn't follow his protocol at all.

You’re just pulling off your helmet and balaclava, jumping down from the hood of the car, when you hear hurried footsteps behind you. By the time you turn, he’s there, flushed and beaming and not even pretending to play it cool. You know how you must look. You can feel the way your hair is plastered to your forehead with sweat, cheeks ruddy from the heat. But he’s still staring at you like you just handed him the WDC on a silver platter, eyes crinkling at the corners with so much fondness it makes your chest hurt. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes, and before you can react he wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you clean off the ground in a hug so tight it makes you yelp in surprise. “You won. You fucking did it, baby.”

“Osc, what are you doing,” you gasp out in between giggles as he swings you in a circle, your feet kicking uselessly in the air. “Put me down, you maniac!”

He relents, setting you back on the ground but keeping his arms locked around your waist like he doesn’t trust the moment to stay real if he’s not holding onto you. “I’m so proud of you,” he says softly, voice coming undone around the edges. “I knew you could do it. I mean, I always did, but seeing it happen… I’m just — fuck, I love you so much.”

The words tumble out of his mouth like they’re the most natural thing in the world, even though it’s the first time either of you have said it. You feel like you’re floating outside your body again, the noise and lights and chaos of the paddock post-race blurring around the edges into this one distilled perfect moment. He said what you’ve been too shy to voice for weeks with the devastating certainty of something completely unplanned and entirely honest.

For once, Oscar didn’t overthink anything.

For once, you wish he had. 

“Osc, we’re on camera,” you whisper, eyes wide, and he freezes like a deer in headlights.

You glance to your right. Your entire team is staring at you, slack-jawed. There’s approximately seven boom mics pointed in your direction. One of the Sky Sports producers is visibly losing their minds at the PR gold they’ve just managed to capture. Even Lando has his phone out and is clearly recording with a shit-eating grin on his face, probably Twitch streaming the entire thing. 

Oscar, to his credit, cycles through about five different expressions in the span of two seconds. First there’s confusion, then a dawning horror, then a sort of helpless, sheepish panic that would be incredibly endearing if it wasn’t happening in front of half the world. “Oh,” he says, so quiet you can barely hear him over the screaming of the crowd. You think if he gets any redder he might melt into the asphalt. “Oh my god. I — Is that live?”

It should be mortifying, but looking at Oscar’s face — slightly freaked out, but proud and completely unrepentant — you find you don’t have it in you to care even a little bit. You just giggle, dizzy with the joy and lingering adrenaline and something deeper, more terrifying, more wonderful. “I think you just hard launched us.”

He groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I didn’t mean to say it like that. I mean, I wanted to say it, I’ve been trying to tell you for ages but then you won and you just looked so pretty and I was so proud of you and… it slipped out.” He sighs, gaze so earnest that it unfurls something warm in your chest. “I wanted it to be more special than that.”

You reach up to touch his cheek, hands still trembling. “It was special. Is special.”

And then, softer, though you know the mics can still probably pick it up: “I love you too. For the record.”

That’s when he kisses you. Not careful or strategic or mindful of where you are at all, and for several heart-stopping seconds you forget that there are thousands of cameras pointed at you. Really, you’re pretty unconscious of anything beyond your boyfriend’s mouth against yours. When you finally pull away from each other, the crowd has somehow gotten even louder, and Oscar is smiling so hard at you that it looks like it might hurt his face a little bit.

So there’s no chance of the two of you keeping it secret anymore. And the protocol you’d so carefully planned had been completely blown. But Oscar wraps his arm around your shoulders and drops a kiss to your temple, whispering another I love you into your hair, and you think some moments might be worth breaking all your rules for.

[yunjardi]

STRICTLY BUSINESS [18+]

[JAKE SIM DRABBLE]

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/pairing: boss!jake x fem!assistant/

/content warnings: smut [18+ mdni], semi-public sex, unprotected sex, oral [m receiving], dirty talk, spanking, making out/kissing, nail marks, pls lmk if i missed anything!!!/

/wc: 1,296

/author's note: i know i said this would be more of a drabble, but i got a little carried away lol. i'm super glad to be back after over a year <3 thank you to those who have been here and also those who are just stopping by :) ily <3

p.s. this is not proofread at all oops

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you found yourself wondering how you managed to get yourself into this position.

that said 'position' being on your knees between jake's legs as he sat back in his office chair.

you didn't think that this was something that actually happened in real life, fucking your boss that is. it seemed so unreal until a few short months ago when you were hired to be jake's personal assistant- something that would ultimately lead to you keeping a dirty little secret.

jake is smooth talker, so you assumed that he spoke in a flirty manner to everyone. that was until the two of you began building a closer relationship which was natural due to the nature of your job, but you didn't think that it would go this far, you didn't think that you two would end up being this close.

flirting turned into dates (that jake referred to as simply 'treating my assistant for being so great at her job'), dates turned into late nights together, late nights together turned into sleepovers, and those sleepovers soon became a regular occurrence. i mean, waking up and already being by your boss's side first thing in the morning makes your job a whole lot easier, right?

right.

whatever way you tried to dance around it doesn't (and won't) change the fact that you are, indeed, banging your boss.

"just like that," jake breathed out as you let his tip hit the back of your throat, "such a good girl."

a constant string of praises, moans, and curses fell from jake's pretty lips as you mercilessly teased him with your tongue, unable to stop yourself from getting wet in the process.

jake smirked and raised an eyebrow as he noticed one of your hands gently slipping into your panties. he watched as you pleased yourself whilst simultaneously pleasing him which was bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

"is my princess getting riled up?" jake cooed as he looked down at you, being sure to focus on the way you touched yourself. you couldn't help but look away as your face began to heat up at the sudden confrontation, but jake was quick to tilt your head up so that you had no choice but to look him in his pretty eyes.

"so cute," jake chuckled sexily as he brushed your hair away from your face, "now, be a good girl and sit on my desk, yeah?" naturally, you followed his orders (mostly out of habit at this point) and sat yourself up on his desk, ready to fulfill his every request.

he looked gorgeous standing before you, his hair slightly messy from having run his hands through it and his shirt halfway unbuttoned. it was impossible for anyone in their right mind to not be attracted to him in some way, shape, or form.

jake gently leaned in, giving you a tender kiss on the lips before moving down to you neck. his hands wandered from your lower back down to your thighs as he continued to kiss all over you, causing your breath to hitch. he made sure to hike up your already short skirt as the gap between your bodies became slimmer and slimmer.

you instinctively brought your hands up to further unbutton his shirt, wanting to see the entirety of his toned body. jake followed suit, beginning to slide the thin strap of your top down your shoulder before fully discarding your shirt somewhere in his office, leaving you in the lacy bra jake had gotten you as a gift for 'being such a great assistant.'

it drove him crazy to see you wearing the pretty bra he bought just for you, and it made him crave you even more desperately.

he couldn't resist you any longer.

he pulled you into a passionate kiss before teasing your entrance with his tip, causing a little gasp to get caught in your throat at the sudden rush. once again, he tilted your face upward, making sure to meet your gaze before slowly inching his throbbing tip into you. you gripped tightly onto his forearm as his cock went deeper and deeper inside you, your walls squeezing every inch of his length.

"jake-" you moaned out as you loosened your grip on his forearms, your hands now holding onto his as he slowly began to move his hips. your eyes rolled back as you let a string of moans leave your lips, his thick tip hitting your sweet spot with every single one of his strokes.

"your cunt is so tiny and small, yet you take me so well," jake smirked as he brought one of his hands down to your clit, beginning to gently rub circles around it as you struggled to keep your legs apart.

your moans became increasingly desperate as jake began to pick up his pace, his hands now gripping at your thighs as he pounded your sweet spot. you could only manage to let out little whines and begs for him to not stop as you felt yourself leaning closer and closer to your climax.

jake promptly picked you up from his desk and sat you down on his lap, guiding his length back inside you as to not waste any precious time that he could be spending fucking you.

the two of you moaned in sync as you sunk back down onto his cock, his tip immediately poking at your spot once again.

after he fully bottomed out, you wasted no time grinding your hips against his, still desperate to reach your high.

jake let his head fall back in pleasure as he left harsh spanks on your ass and thighs. "my good girl," jake moaned deeply into your ear as he left kisses on your neck, "you're all mine, yeah?" you barely managed to nod your head through the extreme pleasure. "mhm, all yours," you moaned breathlessly as he fucked his cock into you from underneath you.

a familiar burning sensation bubbled in your core as jake took control again, being rougher with you than he was before. all you could do was moan uncontrollably about how good he felt being this deep inside you.

"feels good, yeah?" jake teased as you snaked your hands around his shoulders, leaving your nail marks on his skin, "you haven't managed to let go of me since i put my dick inside you." he chuckled as he let caressed all over your body. you pouted at his teasing, but that only prompted him to grab your face and kiss you before pounding into your pussy again.

you could barely warn jake before you inevitably came all over his hard cock. all you could do was let out pathetic moans and hold onto him as you reached your high which jake found oh-so cute.

"you did so good for me, princess," jake praised you as he gently rubbed your clit, his cock still buried deep inside you, "i won't last much longer either." he sighed breathily, flashing his pretty smile before giving you a few more strokes. soon enough, jake finished alongside you, his deep groans penetrating your ears as he let his seed leak into you.

the two of you sat catching your breaths for a bit before jake helped you get cleaned up. you ruffled his hair as he turned to hand you his suit jacket. jake draped his suit jacket across your shoulders, adoring the way you looked wearing his clothes before the two of you exited his office.

a co-worker of jake's stopped to say hello and commented on how lively he seemed today.

jake couldn't stop the cheeky grin from forming on his face.

"well, what can i say? i've got a really great assistant to keep me company."

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a/n: thankyouthankyouthankyou for reading <3 i've truly missed writing and you all so much ! i'll be back with another one soon my loves <3

main taglist: @axartia @jjhmk @jayroseyy @ayohahaha @asaheyow @bunhoons @red-xherry @duolingofanaccount @leeis @jaeyunologyy @green-orangeade @imbaeksbae @sunghoonmybeloved @leeheeheeseung (send an ask to be added + if you have asked to be on my permanent taglist and don't see your username, pls message me bc i removed blogs that were unable to be tagged!)

©yunjardi on tumblr

[xmanicmushroomx]

secret relationship smau || katsuki bakugou

my first time making something like this!! going to make it a pretty short one. i hope you like it!! <3

tags: fem!reader x katsuki bakugou, my hero academia, social media au

tws: none, sfw!

💥❤️💥❤️💥❤️💥❤️💥❤️💥❤️💥❤️💥

ynynynyn 2 months ago

liked by bakugoukats, froggytsu, momoyao, m_ashido_, and 72 others

him💓

m_ashido_ EXCUSE MEEEEEEE WHOISTHIS

ynynynyn 🤭

m_ashido_ Y/N DONT PLAY WITH ME

m_ashido_ DO I MEED TO CHECK EVERY LIKE HNTIL I FIND HMI

ynynynyn CHILLLLLLL LMFAO

froggytsu aww congratulations y/n

ynynynyn thank you tsuuu ily😚

ynynynyn 1 month ago

liked by momoyao, reddriott, bakugoukats, m_ashido_, and 68 others

he took me on a date and walked me home🥹

m_ashido_ y/n you have five minutes to text me or i’m dming every dude you follow

ynynynyn 200 likes for a relationship reveal ?

m_ashido_ SHUT UP I’LL TAG EVERYONE I KNOW froggytsu urfrienduravity momoyao shojishoji musicalkyoka tapeboisero see more…

ynynynyn mina pleaseeee lolol

shotoutodo m_ashido_ Why have you dragged me into this?

musicalkyoka oop tea

m_ashido_ shotoutodo SHUT UP ICY HOT I NEED TO KNOW

tapeboisero mina💀

bakugoukats m_ashido_ that’s my nickname for him, dumbass. [❤️ liked by ynynynyn]

bakugoukats 5m

tagged: ynynynyn

liked by ynynynyn, m_ashido_, reddriott, pikadenki, and 108 others

my girl 🔒

ynynynyn my man😮‍💨💓

m_ashido_ i— I WAS NOT EXPECTING THIS

ynynynyn surprise 🎉

pikadenki 😏😏

m_ashido_ DID YOU KNOW THE WHOLE TIME?!?!

pikadenki Yeah why

m_ashido_ DENKI BITCH ISTG AKDBSKGXJSSJDL

ynynynyn m_ashido_ ily🤟🏻

💥❤️💥❤️💥❤️💥❤️💥❤️💥❤️💥

if you enjoyed this please like + follow!🤍

[all pics from pinterest. i do not own any of the pictures, or any of the characters referenced. bnha/mha is originally a manga by kohei horikoshi that was adapted to anime.]

[xoxxbilliexoxx]

Silent Pleasure

Billie gets you off on her tour bus with all your friends just feet from you both. Can you stay silent?

(quick and unedited… oops🤷🏻‍♀️)

you had finally joined billie on her tour 3 days ago after not seeing her for a month. although the world doesn’t know you’re her girlfriend, her entourage does, and they love you. You and Billie have decided to continue to keep things quiet to the public. It’s not that she doesn’t want the world to know, it’s actually a conversation you have had so many times. but you both love the relationship you have now and it feels even more special knowing it’s private.

Because of the hidden relationship, the tour bus is your safe place. It seems like you two are always touching. It’s not sexual, but both your love languages are physical touch and you miss it constantly when there is a possibility for fans or paparazzi to see you. So when you’re on the bus you guys make up for it. It’s an ongoing joke that if your skin isn’t touching you’ll die. Yesterday, you were sitting on one side of the bus and Billie was in the back room, your shared room, with the door open. Zoe ran up to her, jumped on top of her and started to preform fake cpr. Billie started screaming, unable to get her words from the laughter. You and everyone else on the bus went running into the room after them and Zoe finally stopped. “well I thought Billie must have died from the lack of skin to skin contact from y/n…. I had to save her life she’s just too young to die” Everyone was screaming laughing, the constant jokes continuing but it was all out of love. they absolutely loved seeing you too together, and seeing how happy you make Billie.

So, on this easy calm sunday morning as the tour bus snaked through the mountains heading for Billie’s sold out show in Denver Colorado, no one questioned the two of you on the couch snuggled under a blanket. Everyone else was still in their bunks, but the curtains were all open. It was quiet still, just some beatles playing in the background and the hum of tiktok’s coming from each of the bunks.

You were scrolling through Pinterest as Billie rested her head on your shoulder watching your phone. Her hand was tightly wrapped around your thigh, a place she often leaves it. You could hear her humming along to the song as her thumb gently stroked ur leg. It was peaceful, exactly what you missed when she was away. You were so happy to be back with her. The first night you joined her on tour everyone on the bus strategically decided to have a night out in the town, clearly wanting the two of you to have some alone time together with having to try to be quiet, or worse them having to hear. You didn’t last long before the both of you were tangled together under the sheets, making up for so much lost time. it felt like hours before you each tapped out, unable to count the amount of times you both came.

It didn’t help though. Billie stayed horny all the time and you matched it, always. It felt like the two of you were a drug to each other- addiction wasn’t even a strong enough word to describe the intense craving you each felt. you couldn’t help but feel a slight throb between your legs as Billie’s thumb continued moving against the bare skin of your thigh. Her humming was right against ur ear, reminding you of all the times her voice whispered filth as she fucked you. You tried to ignore it, continuing to scroll through pinterest and listen to the words the Beatles were singing to you.

Billie felt it too though, she could feel the heat of your skin, the rise and fall of your chest, the smell of your hair. It was all consuming her as she tried to calm herself. She was cheeky though, always enjoying pushing you and teasing you, getting you to do things you haven’t ever before, and you always loved it. She lifted her head briefly off your shoulder to kiss your cheek, making you smile and hum happily. God the two of you were so in love with each other. When she didn’t stop though, moving to kiss your neck gently your hum no longer sounded happy, it sounded intensely needy instead. When you felt her teeth pulling on your ear lobe you gasped, not expecting such a directly sexual behavior in the open space of the bus. Your eyes shot to the bunks, then to Billie’s face. She had a smirk planted on her face but her eyes showed a different emotion, one you knew well. She was hungry for you, needing to please you.

“I need you to be silent baby, can you do that for me?” you looked at her stunned as you felt her hand moving from your thigh under the blanket, sliding closer and closer to your core. as her hand finally met the fabric of your shorts, your hips bucked up slightly, out of your control as if they had a mind of their own. “such a dirty girl letting me touch you with all our friends next to us” she whispered in your ear, you groaned almost silently from the contact of her lips on your ear. “you just need me that bad huh, such a horny girl for me” you nodded eagerly at her words. as her hand snaked under your sleep shorts, the ones you never wear underwear with, she spoke quietly again, “here’s what’s gunna happen,” her fingers hit your clit and immediately began rubbing slow circles. “I’m gunna touch this pretty pussy of yours and you’re going to keep looking at your phone, acting as if nothing is happening… fuck you’re so wet already mama…” she interrupted her own sentence as she felt the wetness of your arousal covering her fingers. “can you do that for me baby, can you handle that?” “oh god, billie this is crazy” your voice could barely be heard “you want me to stop then?” her fingers pushed down harder on your clit, the added pressure shooting through your entire body. “god no, please don’t stop, I can handle it” as your quiet words hit her ears she smiled, lifting her head off your shoulder again to kiss you. It was a quick kiss, one that wouldn’t have anyone on the bus questioning it.

Her fingers continued to circle your clit tightly, with a deep pressure that she knows you need. Billie knows your body almost too well, she knows exactly what you need and when. One night early on in your relationship you both had hit a new level of desire, so incredibly horny and mesmerized by one another. When you laid on the bed, pulled of you clothes, and immediately began touching yourself, Billie’s eyes were locked on you. She watched you masterbate in front of her, moaning out her name, telling her this is what you do when she isn’t there. The sight almost killed her, never having seen anything hotter. When you finally looked up at her needily and asked her to join you, she threw herself down next to you and stripped herself. The two of you watched as you got yourselves off, masterbating beside eachother and learning exactly how you each touched yourself. After that night, you both became experts at touching each other, you knew exactly how you both wanted it because you saw how you each touched yourselves.

Billie was eagerly watching your face as you tried your absolute best to hide the overwhelming pleasure she was bringing you. Your eyebrows knitted together and your mouth lightly hung open. She was rubbing your clit perfectly, exactly as you’d done night after night the last month when she was away. It’s so much better when it’s her though, nothing feels better than the things Billie does to you. Your hips began to grind against her hand as you got closer and closer to cumming. Billie could tell even when you were trying your best to hide it all. She could hear your breathing picking up, feel your pussy clenching against nothing as her fingers pressed against your clit deliciously. “you think you can be silent when you cum mama? hmm?” she whispered into your ear. You nodded eagerly, your wide eyes hitting hers, trying your best to silently tell her you were about to cum. The idea of your friends only 15 ft away was only making this all hotter to you. It was all too much, the idea that she was getting you off in an open room as your friends laid cluelessly in their beds, the fact that her hunger for you was too hard to ignore, that she had to touch you secretly. It was all pulling you closer and closer to the edge. Her fingers worked perfectly against you, her eyes watching you, waiting to see you cum, her lips every so often meeting your skin. You tried to keep your phone up, tried to continue the act but it was becoming harder and harder. “go ahead baby, cum for me, please cum for me” her whisper was all it took.

Your body filled with electricity as she made you cum. Your lips pursed tightly together, holding i the moans that so desperately wanted to come out. Your body arched, shifted, shook under the blanket as she continued rubbing you, knowing you love when she fucks you through your orgasm, stretching it for as long as it could go. your phone fell into your lap as your head fell back, trying as hard as you could to stay silent. finally a quiet moan slipped out of your lips, Billie coughed trying to disguise it. She slowed her movement and you opened your eyes to see a huge smile planted on her face. she was so pleased with herself. “Dirty dirty girl” she teased in a whisper as she pulled out her fingers and immediately brought them to her mouth. “I’ll be thinking about how good you taste all night tonight on that stage” as her quiet words finished she pulled you in for a kiss. “you’re crazy eilish, i don’t know what to do with you” you laughed back, shocked at what just happened. “love youuuuuuu” she giggled loudly finding her normal tone again. “love you more silly girl” you spoke back, your voice cracking slightly as you also returned to a normal volume.

[cuppajoel]

the next seven dates| the contractor

PAIRING: modern au/ no cordyceps/younger (late 30s)!Joel Miller x plus size!reader

SYNOPSIS: Dating apps have convinced you that love isn’t real and that all men are pigs. Turning to your bffs for a Hail Mary, you ask them to set you up on a blind date each to restore your faith. Your first date is with a contractor called Joel.

wc: 8.7k (oops)

TAGS: 18+MDNI, NSFW, Modern AU, smut, developing relationships, reader is plus-sized, able bodied and afab, no other description is given. Heavy flirting, first date vibes, Joel is a gentleman at heart, dirty talk, heavy petting in a taxi, alcohol consumption, sex while under the influence, pnv protected (the crowd boos) sex, v fingering, oral sex (f receiving). Both characters are in their 30s.

A/N: I started writing this in September and fell away so many times bc writing for Joel Miller scares me. If you’re looking for a sign to write the thing that you want to read, this is it. Not beta’d.

For context of the fic. This shot is called a blowjob. It’ll all make sense, I promise.

Reblogs, comments and likes are all appreciated <3

Jingling your keys in your right hand, you watch as the numbers climb on the digital display, showing what floor you’re on. You’re exhausted. You let your head fall back against the mirrored surface behind you, your back resting on the metal bar and your eyes fluttering shut for a moment of respite. Although it wasn’t the worst date you’d ever been on, it was a close second or third. You take a deep breath.

From the moment you stepped foot into that bar, the guy was a red flag that turned into a 5-alarm fire.

“Oh wow you look good… A lot like my sister… DING Not that I think my sister looks good, but you look hot, d’you work out? DING Yeah, you can tell… how much do you squat? DING oh, well, I could probably bench you…DING We should try that sometime, if you know what I mean? DING. He laughs, a mix of a frat bro and that lizard meme comes to mind.

The elevator doors open with another ding, making your right eye twitch slightly as you cross the carpeted hall to your apartment. You turn the key in the lock and give your door the customary shoulder barge before the locking mechanism is released. Hooking your jacket and purse on the wall and locking the door behind you, you kick off your shoes and head straight for your giant corner couch, collapsing onto it with a huff.

This wasn’t just a bad date. It was a bad date after a series of bad dates, one after another. The only takeaway from each is that people seriously hyperbolise themselves online.

You were relatively new to the world of online dating after catching your fiancé of three years, Jake, doing the downward dog with your shared yoga teacher only eight months ago.

Jake was everything you thought you wanted. A nice guy with a secure 9-5 and a handsome face. But everything about him was just nice. Your dates, your apartment, your sex- all nice. And at the end of it all, he was cheating on you- real fucking nice.

Unlocking your phone, it opens to the group chat thread between you and your two best friends. You hold down the voice note button.

“So you may be wondering ‘Why is she home already?’ Well, my sweet summer children, not only did my date admit that he found his sister attractive and wanted to ‘bench me’ all before we ordered our first drink…” You pause for dramatic effect, knowing they can’t hear you, but it makes you feel better. You huff out an empty chuckle. “I am just so over it. How can a man say that his favourite film is “Little Women”, have pictures of his rescue cats on his profile, and still be that much of a stereotypical douche?” You fling your head back, resting it on the top of your couch.

“I’m going to do something dramatic and soooo not me… I am deleting the apps… the two of you are tasked with finding me a date each. I don’t wanna know anything about them before I see them- just their name, age, and one picture. You decide who is going first and the winner gets to be maid of honour at the inevitable wedding… Anyway, I’m going to go read one of my fairy porn books and contemplate my life… Night, loves!”

Somehow, you muster the energy to shift yourself from the couch to your room. You bunch up your tainted date clothes, toss them in the general direction of your hamper and pull on an oversized T-shirt. The wasted makeup is double-cleansed off your face, and you shove your hair up into an extremely unflattering bun. Grabbing your Kindle from under your pillow, you flop back onto your bed; your dates with the beautiful high-fairy king never disappoint.

Almost a week later, your best friends pull through. Having found a guy each, who they swear is the one you’ve been looking for, they arrange your dating schedule between themselves. Tonight was the first. In the Uber ride over to the restaurant, you send your location to your friend who set up the date.

Any last-minute words of wisdom?

He’s kinda that strong, silent type.

Also southern

A gentleman for sure!

Hopefully not all of the time 😮‍💨

You shove the car door closed, adjust the strap of your purse on your shoulder, and tuck your phone inside. You feel good tonight. Blue jeans, a red lip, oversized, white-button down, black, pointed-toe, heeled boots-damn they hurt, but they look so good. You slide your index fingers into the belt loops either side of your hips, hiking them up slightly to allow the denim to stretch around your ass just right.

Rounding the corner, you find yourself on the strip of bars and restaurants on the main street. You weave in and out of the patrons, everyone being washed with the rich blues and reds of the neon lights beaming down on them. As you push the door with your hip and descend the two steps to the bar, you lick your teeth, making sure they’re free from any red stains.

Inside is quite the contrast from the bustle of the streets a few feet away. The place is busy, for sure, but it’s as if everyone is collectively trying to keep the atmosphere calm and easy. A massive mahogany coloured bar is the feature of the room, with hanging, warm, filament bulbs creating small spotlights all along it.

You walk further into the room, parallel with the bar, coming to a stop at its corner, facing the bartender. You squint your eyes slightly, trying to pull out familiar shapes from the hundreds of glass bottles behind the bar. The bartender gives you a small smile; it’s your turn.

“Can I have a Tanqueray Savillia gin and tonic, please?” You ask with a soft smile, reaching for your purse to pull out your wallet. “Oh, and a shot of tequila…” You wouldn’t normally mix drinks on the first round, but you also wouldn’t normally go on a blind date.

“Sure. Do you wanna start a tab?” is the return. You look up to answer their question, having retrieved your card and holding it firm between your index and middle fingers.

“Yeah, plea-“

“I got the this one.” A warm, sturdy presence flanks you on your right shoulder. Their strong right hand is placed gently on the bar next to you. Your eyes flick up to the mirrors behind the bar, meeting his in the reflection. He’s looking right back at you through the glass, and a small, closed-mouth smile creeps across your face as you turn to face him in real life.

“Joel?” He nods slowly in response, the smile not faltering as he looks down at you, a glitter in his espresso-coloured eyes. His eyes trail down your form and then back up; you allow yourself to do the same to him. Although not the tallest man you’ve seen, he’s built big.

He’s wearing a charcoal grey, brushed-cotton button down and dark-wash denim jeans that fit him perfectly. Both sleeves of his shirt are folded in on themselves and stop just below his elbow. His hair must be naturally wavy or curly, but it’s been pushed back and tamed slightly, a few curls going rogue.

“Hey, it’s good to meet ya,” he tips his head down slightly as you raise yours, meeting each other in the middle as you press a kiss on the other person's cheek. He smells warm and masculine, a mix of cedarwood and something earthy, like basil. “I’ll take a Glenlivet 15 and a shot of tequila- the tab is under Miller. Thank you.” He smiles firmly at the bartender. Your eyes follow the line of his thick neck, up through his jaw, which is peppered with trimmed salt and pepper stubble.

“Shit, I’m sorry…” your hand comes up to his jaw, remnants of your merlot coloured lipstick on his cheek. He turns back to you and creases his eyes slightly, not following your apology but also not flinching an inch as you place your hands on him.

Your thumb moves in a slow and firm window-wiper motion to try and remove the stain. “I got lipstick on you…” Your left hand now comes up to the other side of his face, pushing ever so slightly to get him to turn to face you more. He preens into your touch, malleable to where you want him. The trimmed stubble pricks lightly at your fingertips.

“Is it my colour at least?” He teases, he looks down at you from the corner of his eye as you woman-handle his face. Damn, his voice is deep. It rumbles through your chest, signifying how close you are to this broad, thick, stranger.

“Yes. Very pretty.” You return with the same level of flirt. Your eyes shift from the red mark you’ve placed on him to his as you give him a lazy smile. The bartender sets up your drinks on the bar in front of you, making you both finally pop from whatever bubble you found yourself in. Three minutes in and you’re already cradling his face? Nice one, babe. You hear your friend's voice in your head.

“Well…” Joel picks up both shot glasses of tequila and hands you one, raising his own, and an eyebrow in your direction. “Cheers-“

“Hold it!” You cut in, your glass also raised to the same level as his. “Gotta look me in the eyes as we drink… otherwise it’s seven years bad sex.” You say, dipping your voice ever so slightly as you remember the above dive-bar standard of the room you find yourself in.

“Shit- well…” Joel smirks, he clinks his glass against yours. “Can’t be havin’ that now darlin’” That southern accent clings to every word as he throws the liquid back, his eyes not faltering for a second. You mirror his actions entirely, trying your best not to screw up your face as the liquid heats your insides.

He gives a silent chuckle before leaning into you again, hand on the small of your back and his mouth hovering just over your ear. “I snagged a table in the corner over there…” He points over your shoulder and you follow with your eyes. “Means you can keep telling me how pretty I am…” he teases and resumes his stance- one giant hand supporting himself on the bar.

Your mouth raises slightly at the sides. That first shot of alcohol hits you nicely as the smell of his cologne makes you breathe harder. “Sure.” You grab your drink from the bar and walk ahead of him to the vacant table, hoping that ‘ol’ faithful’ jeans are doing their job.

You stop just before the chair that isn’t covered by his leather jacket, waiting for confirmation. It comes in the form of Joel pulling out the seat for you. “Pretty and a gentleman… so many sides to you, Joel.” You say, not putting your full weight on the chair so that he can tuck it in under you.

He quickly joins you at the table, his large presence not diminished by his seated position. “Well, what can I say? I’ve got many talents.” He shrugs as he takes a sip of his amber liquid, the ice clinking softly as he places it back down.

In the ease of the past forty minutes, you both had forgotten that this was a first date. A charged silence falls upon you both as you simply take each other in, smiling widely when you catch eyes.

Joel watches as you unconsciously play with your necklace. He’s actively trying to stay in the room rather than let his mind wander about your full, rounded lips that flash red with danger.

“So, I gotta say, I thought you’d be a little more bossy given your demand for a blind date… You do that often?” He sips the whisky, hoping it will bring him back to earth. He so desperately didn’t want to be the guy not paying attention to what you were saying, given that he had asked the question.

“No,” you started, your eyes crinkling at the sides as you smile, “I don’t usually demand that they set me up on blind dates, but the last guy I went on a date that I organised admitted his attraction towards his sister and then tried to organise sex… all within the same sentence, so I’m starting to doubt my abilities to pick for myself.”

Joel splutters on his drink slightly, the fiery liquid catching the back of his throat as he coughs. “You got any siblings?” you cock your head, chuckling that you caught him off guard.

“My brother has a bit too much moustache for my taste,” he says, taking another quick sip to hopefully soothe the burning in his throat. “And I don’t tend to ‘schedule in’ sex.” He murmurs, the words coming out a bit laboured due to the whisky in his throat.

“Noted.” You return, “I’ll make sure to keep mine at bay.” You rub your upper lip before finishing off the last mouthful of your drink. “You want another drink?” You ask in a way that sounds hopeful. Not wanting to run after 10 minutes? Double nice one babe.

“Yeah.” He savours the last sip of his drink, licking across his bottom lip. “What can I get you?”

“Oh no, this one’s on me, pretty.” You wink at him. Joel opens his mouth in protest but wavers, a slight flush coming over him at his new nickname. “Same again?” You ask.

Joel notices how the lights strung around the place bounced off your eyes, making it harder to see their colour but even more difficult to look away. You pick up his empty glass as you stand. Joel nods in response, giving an earnest “Thank you, darlin’.” As he watches you make the small walk from your table to the bar, he gives himself full permission to check you out.

Your jeans look like they were painted on by the devil, caressing every curve of your waist and thighs. The back pocket of your pants stretches and pulls as you slide one of your hands in, waiting on a popped hip to be served at the bar. The denim leaves little to the imagination but, boy, was Joel imagining? He never wanted to be in a wrestling match more than with this pair of pants. He takes a deep breath, trying not to think about how difficult it would be to peel them off your body.

You move, shifting your weight to your other hip; your heels must be hurting you, he thinks. He lets his eyes wander up over your silhouette, up to your profile, as he does, he sees your eyes waiting for his. “Busted.” you mouth to him, your lips forming a wicked smile.

Joel smirks too, not letting up his gaze and nodding. ”So busted.” he says under his breath.

It’s not long before you join him back at your table, setting his down in front of him with a tip of your head before sitting back and enjoying a long sip from your own.

From the corner of your eye, the bartender comes over, placing two shot glasses in front of you. “Ah, thank you!” You say to them as they return to their bar. “Here ya go, I didn’t have enough hands for everything.” You hold out the shot to Joel with a devious look that wasn’t there before you’d left.

It wasn’t a shot Joel had ever seen before, a mix of different browns and beiges topped off with whipped cream. Joel takes the small glass between his fingers and crinkles his eyes at you. “Should I be scared?” He says, turning the glass to see the different liquors marbling together.

“That depends…” You move your shot glass to your other hand and lick some whipped cream off your thumb before switching it back to your dominant hand. “Do you like blowjobs, Joel?” You flutter your lashes and smile sweetly at the man across from you, whose jaw had just gone slack and eyes darker from the last time you’d looked at them.

Joel, not wanting to interrupt whatever mood you’d returned with from that bar, makes a deep “mmm mmm mmm” sound that started somewhere in his chest as he shakes his head and purses his lips. “You are trouble, ain’t you?” With that, you clink the glass against his and smile again.

“You have no idea.” You tip the glass back along with your head, just slightly so as not to break eye contact. Joel mirrors your motions, trying not to tempt fate given that he had a demon in front of him. Quickly, his gaze falters as the contrast in taste between the shot and his whisky has him shivering.

“Is that the best blow job you’ve ever had?” There you were again, licking the sweetness of the liquor from where it’d spilled on your fingers. A carnal image of you doing that after having his cock in your mouth flashes before his eyes. He shifts in his seat, having to tug at the denim at his crotch.

“Probably not.” Joel starts, taking a drink to rid his mouth of the overly sweet shot. “But, I believe in second chances-can always try again.” The liquor was starting to talk for him as he felt it climb his neck and up his ears.

“Okay, so I have this game that I play on dates…” You start, somehow your chair had drifted closer and closer throughout the night, as you both take turns getting the next round from the bar. As you sit elbow to elbow with Joel, close enough to smell the whisky that mixes with his earthy cologne.

“I like where this is headed already.” His accent has gotten stronger over the hour that has passed.

You shove his shoulder, “Shut upp. The game is that you have to imagine that your memory is wiped, so you get to experience things for the first time again… I then give you a category and you can only pick one thing, okay? So, if I were to say movie: what movie would you want to experience watching for the first time again?”

“Blade Runner”, he says, without hesitation. His eyes were starting to have that warm, glazed look that comes with drinking. “You?”

“Probably Scream or Fight Club- I like a twist. Vacation?”

“Ireland.”

“Australia.” you respond, picking up the pendant on your necklace out of habit, dragging it back and forth along the chain. Joel follows the movement of your fingers with his eyes, letting it soothe him too. “Food?”

“Mmmm, that’s a hard one…probably something that my Mom makes, like chilli or barbecue.”

“You’re easy to please, hm?”

“Give me a plate of good food and I’m yours.” He picks up his glass, trying to savour the liquid as you’d both agreed ‘just one more’ two drinks ago.

“I also love chilli.” You start, watching the way his lips wrap around the glass and how his tongue flicks across his lips when he sets it back down. “But I think I’d go with a dessert like chocolate fudge sundae… or, have you ever had one of those French pastries… What are they called? Pain au chocolat? That would be mine.”

He hums again, enjoying watching you ask and answer your own questions. The fidget that you started with the pendant of your necklace holding steady. In a moment of no thought, Joel slowly reaches out and stills your movement to look at the gold medal. “This is pretty.” He says to himself more than anything.

His big hand covers yours and flips the coin-shaped jewellery over with his fingers, the only response you can muster, “mmm”. He surveys the jewellery as best he can in the dim light of the bar, noticing the engraving on the back.

“It’s my initials.” You say. Your hand, and his, staying exactly where they are.

“Oh, you have a middle name.” More an accusation than a question. He sounds as if he’s uncovering some hidden gem about you. “What is it?”

“Nuh uh, you’re not getting it that easy. That’s for date five at least.” You tease, your gaze becoming heavier, the devious glimmer in Joel’s eyes becoming stronger.

“Anything else special happen on date five?”

”You might get another blowjob… but you were so ungrateful for the first one.” Your eyes drop to his mouth and then back up to his.

Joel can feel himself aching to be closer to you. His hand that holds the pendant now drifts to your jaw, his thumb feathering over your cheek, mirroring the window-wiper hold you had him in the first moments that you’d met each other.

He had a craving to explore every part of you, to taste, smell, and hear you. The need shoots through every nerve ending, spurring him on to take everything he can. But he has to slow down, or else take you to the bathroom and make you fill up all of his senses.

The Texan gentleman within him holds strong, as much as he could feel all of his reasoning heading south. He brings his face closer to yours, that slanted smile quickly becoming your favourite sight. “Can I take you home?” He rumbles, his voice low and soft so only you both could hear it.

The whisky on his breath makes your eyes flutter as you draw a sharp breath at his question. Your mouth turns up at the sides, you can tell your eyes have the same shimmer as his. Tipsy. Ready.

This wasn’t something you’d planned on. You had so many rules about first dates: No kissing (hence the red lipstick), no sharing a car, and no sex until you felt safe. With this man’s hand cradling the back of your neck and his calloused thumb tracing down your jaw and back again, you feel like syrup dripping over hot pancakes.

You’ve lost all sense of what time it is, or how long you’d been sitting there, inches from his face as your body screams at you to kiss him.

His face is so close to yours that his features become fuzzy. Your eyes are having a hard time focusing in this light. Joel’s eyes move over your features, waiting, restraining, teasing, not daring to push further until you say so.

You reach out to the corded forearm that is tensed and attached to the hand that was holding you gently. Your manicured nails rake up and down his arm in a feathered tickle. You feel his breathing deepen as you press your top teeth into your bottom lip.

“You’re gonna need to,” The pressure from your scratches is getting slightly harder, causing a hum to vibrate in Joel’s throat. “or else everyone will see how pretty you are with this shade of lipstick on your mouth.”

Joel takes the weight of your head and neck in his hands. He holds you both in that position; thick fingers cradling your nape. His tongue traces along his lips and pulls back slightly just so he can take in the heavy-lidded, slack-jawed sight before him.

“Let’em see.” he brings his lips, achingly close to yours, his eyes open, waiting for that last confirmation before he hands over his soul.

In an instant, his lips find yours, setting a slow, strong pace. The trimmed stubble on his upper lip chafes against your soft skin, creating the sweetest friction.

His cologne, mixing with the whisky and the warmth of his skin, takes over your senses as the broad backed man envelops you in his big arms.

Raking your hands through the soft curls at the back of his head, you can help but kitten lick at his bottom lip, craving a taste of that whisky you’ve seen him sip at all evening.

It only takes an instant for Joel’s breathing to deepen and for his tongue to meet yours, you both stifling a moan as you slide deeper and deeper into each other’s mouths.

Your wills, hanging by a thread, allow you a moment of clarity to softly pull away. A noise rumbles within Joel’s chest as you do, his resolve slipping like sand in an hourglass. With heavy eyes he lingers on your messy mouth, his brain unable to think of anything else than what state you’d end up in after his cock passes through your full lips.

With a chuckle, you bring your thumb to his mouth, wiping away the remnants of your lipstick that have transferred to him. “Messy boy.” You mumble, assuming your pupils must be the same size as his. He mirrors the movements on your mouth. The lipstick, blurry and smeared into a faded, pastel red that he hopes stays on him for days.

Joel swipes gently at your hot, swollen lips and chin, trying to clean you up and calm himself down before you leave the table. At one of the passes of his over your mouth, you lick softly at the pad of his finger. Matching your mood, he sinks his teeth into the fleshy part at the base of your thumb and tugs slightly.

“If we don’t leave in the next minute this whole goddamn bar is gonna see how messy I get when I turn your sweet ass the same colour as your mouth.” He licks then kisses where he had bitten you, making your eyes flutter and thighs press together.

The next half an hour was a blur. You both had the mission to get to your apartment as soon as possible, causing you to move with the most efficiency that four drinks would allow you to.

The Uber ride was the longest of your life.

Joel opened the car door and then slid right in behind you. His large, powerful hands placing you into the middle seat and wrapping the seatbelt around you, clicking it into place. He places his warm hand in the inside of your thigh, unable to keep his hands from you, you did the same, your forearm laying across the top of his thigh, nails scratching softly at the denim.

The alcohol has well and truly gone to your head, making every touch and graze feel heady and dreamlike. Joel was struggling. All night he was craving to be closer to you, holding and restraining himself but now that he’d had a taste it was impossible not to touch you. Trying to maintain his stoicism was less like stopping a yawn or sneeze and more like trying to stop a freight train on a windy day.

In the front, your driver is murmuring along to the radio, but all you can hear is the heavy, warm breathing of the man behind you as you allow him to explore your jean-clad thighs.

Pulling, pushing, kneading, it felt like Joel couldn’t get close enough. The roughness of his touch was full of nothing but need and desire.

You can’t make out everything he’s saying, his whisper is strained and raspy. You can make out the words goddamn and jeans; the lucky fabric achieving their purpose once again.

Your hand covers Joel’s, squeezing and pushing at him, encouraging him to keep going. Whatever devil was inside you wanted to push him to his limits in the back of this cab.

Feeling bold, you allow your palm to push at Joel’s high, travelling further and further up his lap before you stop dangerously close to the giant bulge you can see in the low light of the cab. This wasn’t typical behaviour from you, but the solid warmth of the man under you called to your most primitive nerves.

Dropping your head to Joel’s shoulder, you lean into his neck, leaving sloppy, wet kisses, tinged with light pink, in your wake. Trying your damnedest to hold strong until you get to the apartment.

The walk through the main doors of your apartment building was full of sideways glances and lip bitten chuckles. To have such desire within hours of meeting someone had never happened to you before. It made your skin tingle, all of your senses heightened.

By the time you reach the elevator, you can hardly recognise the darkness in the eyes peering into yours. Fingers interlaced, firm squeezes shoot straight to your clit; Joel’s rough hands somehow able to be strong but reverent at the same time.

Waiting until the doors close, Joel guides you against the brushed steel bar, which reaches the small of your back, and closes you in. His hands hold onto the bar on either side of your hips.

That nagging, rational part of Joel’s brain was screaming at him. He didn’t want any wires crossed or doubts about his intentions about tonight. Sure, he’d had his fair share of one night stands but not for years and certainly not with someone who he’d felt this level of attraction to.

With his knuckle, he ensures your eyes are on him as he hovers his mouth too close to yours. “I need you to know that I didn’t come on this date expectin’ anythin’and I still don’t…” he bows slightly, his forehead rests against yours, and he exhales with a self-fuffacing chuckle.

“I should be a gentleman. I should walk you to your front door, kiss you, and say goodnight.”

But I don’t know if I can, his brain screams at him.

Unmoving, you both share breath in close proximity. The alcohol in your system is dulled by the rush of adrenaline and hormones that are buzzing around your body.

Your teeth latch on to your bottom lip, Joel immediately catches on to the action but squeezes his lids shut, keeping his caveman brain at bay just barely.

The hotness of Joel’s breath fanning over your face has you fantasising about how it’d feel to have it between your legs. You shuffle slightly, squeezing your thighs together and feeling how wet this evening has made you already.

Staying in the electric silence, your chuckle echoes his own. You mimic his actions, moving your forehead, pressing the knuckle of your forefinger under his chin, encouraging him to lift it so that you can look him in the eyes.

“Joel, I’ve got some good news for ya…” The elevator dings, opening its metal doors at your floor. You let your grasp of his chin fall so you can wriggle free of his hold and lead the way to your apartment. “You might be a gentleman, but I’m not.”

Exiting the elevator slowly, you emphasise the movement of your hips as you lead the way through the carpeted hallway to your door. Joel follows closely, admiring the view with hearts in his eyes. Pausing for the briefest of moments, he exhales fully, palming himself, squeezing to elevate the ache at the base of his cock before catching up to you.

Twisting the key in the lock, you ram the door with your hips once, twice. “C’mon cockblocker” you ram it again, somehow the combination works, gaining you access to your apartment and a sideways glance from Joel which reads ‘we’ll deal with this later’.

With unfathomable accuracy, you throw your keys into the dish by your door and shrug off Joel’s leather jacket, which he kindly lent you, hanging it by the door.

At your back, you feel the Texan man push his hips into your ass. His fingers slide through your belt loops, giving him more purchase and momentum as you lead the way down the hall to your bedroom. His lips kiss softly at your neck, inhaling your scent before exhaling with a rumble. “Can you feel that, darlin’? Feel how fuckin’ hard you make me?” He punctuates with another pump of his hips.

A playful chuckle passes your lips as you turn on your heel so that you are facing him. Bravely, you press your palm firmly against the thickness under his jeans.

A flush starts at the base of your spire and carries up to the tips of your ears, as you feel how hard he is. His eyes flutter close, a deep groan reverberating from his throat as your breathing gets heavier. “Oh fuck, you’re big.” You rush out, that brain-to-mouth filter experiencing technical difficulties.

Joel threads his fingers through your hair, his palm cradling your head, the other grabbing at your full hip. His big brown eyes glimmer in the low light of the room as he scans your full face, stopping at your lips before flicking back up to match your gaze. “I believe in you, sweetheart. I think you can take it.” A sideways smirk, gifted to him by horny demon, swipes across his full lips.

Bringing your lips to his once again, the kiss is feverish, missing all of the earnestness of your first. Joel licks into your mouth deeply, his tongue gliding along yours, your breaths mixing together, making the air balmy.

Almost simultaneously you reach for his belt buckle and he your top button, the soft clink of metal on metal making your pussy clench.

He coaxes you backwards, prodding you to lay down on the bed as you begin working the buttons of your shirt.

Reaching behind himself, he tugs on the collar of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swoop. His body is a wall of soft muscle- not created at a gym but through honest hard work. Freckles speckled down his arms and across his chest- you want to trail a path with your tongue.

“These jeans laced with black magic or somethin? Had me hallucinatin’ from the minute I saw you at that bar.” He peels them down in a see-saw motion. Joel kisses down the roundness of your hips and thighs as they are revealed little by little as he goes one on one with the denim.

Before long, jeans, shirts, and shoes are cast to the outskirts of the room. You lay before him in a blue matching set- the heft of your tits barely confined. Giving them a squeeze, your smaller hands barely cover them, the pillowy flesh spilling over the spaces in between your fingers.

Joel’s eyes go directly to them, a slanted smile sweeping across his face before he lowers his lips to the roundness of your stomach.

Licking, kissing, inhaling the scent that he assumed was your perfume lingers heavy on the plumpness of your soft skin. Travelling lower and lower, Joel settles himself, kneeling on the floor before you, eyes settled on the damp patch spreading on the gusset of your panties.

With forearms hooked under your thighs and hands resting on top Joel yanks you towards him, his beautiful hooked nose laying on the wet fabric as he inhales. “Fuck me.” He whispers into your mound.

Hooking his fingers around the fabric, his eyes flick up to yours for permission. Bumping up onto your forearms for a better view, you smile wickedly, crooking your neck to the side. “Let’s see how messy you can get, pretty.”

Joel all but rips the lace garment, whisking it downwards, past your knees before he hovers his mouth just above your pussy, close enough that his breath tickles against the soft hairs. Tongue first, he places wet kisses on just north of where you want him the most.

Instinctively, your hips raise, eliciting a dark chuckle from him. “Goddamn you’ve got a pretty pussy.” He shifts you so that your legs lay over his shoulders and freeing up his hands to push apart your folds, allowing him to see your swollen clit.

With a flat tongue, Joel licks almost too tenderly at the soft, dewy skin before swooping languidly over and over your bud. “Oh my god.” You moan, willing your hips to stay still and stop being so greedy, allow this man to cook.

“Never been called that before.” he mumbles, bringing the sides of his cheeks together, gathering his saliva in his mouth and then letting it fall to your clit. You were already soaked but Joel needed to see you dripping, messy. You moan, the lewd act making your eyes roll back.

Although being caught up in the desperation you had for each other, Joel needed to take inventory of every twitch, roll, and moan passing through your sweet, soft form. There was no way that he was taking tonight as a solitary event, already craving how you’d moan and whimper for him when you allowed him to fuck you bare.

Gently, he pulled at the apex of your pussy with one hand, pulling at the hood of your clit to unsheath it fully, before circling it with deep, even pressure with his opposite thumb. “You are fucking soaked, sweeheart.” Your breathing gets heavier, you’re unable to open your eyes fully, but you’re not willing to miss a second of this guy at work.

Joel incorporates his mouth, slurping and swallowing as if you were ice cream threatening melt right under him. Threading your fingers through his messy hair you push and pull at his fluffy curls, your heels digging in just at his shoulder blades to encourage him, more.

Feeling him chuckle,he presses into you deeper, his lips and tongue now licking into your pussy which flutters and pulses around his tongue. With each movement of his jaw you feel his beautiful nose bump and swipe across your clit, that familiar buzz at the base of your spine growing stronger and stronger. “Fuck, Joel keep going, it feels so fucking good…”

Hearing his name as a moan on your lips, strokes the most primitive part of him. He needs to be closer, deeper, before he comes in his pants like a teenager.

Somehow finding the strength to peel himself from you, he stands, his cock aching and hard as stone. There’s a clear, darkened patch on his boxers which steals your attention for a second before it moves slowly to his hand squeezing at himself. “I gotta get you ready sweetheart. Gotta be inside you.” He shucks his boxers off himself and pumps his cock in his hand.

Resuming his earlier position, Joel gathers your slick with his middle and ring finger before pushing them in slowly to your weeping pussy.

“Shit”

“Mmmmmfuck”

Groaning in unison, you swear you see Joel’s eyes flutter in the way yours are as you squeeze against his fingers. Joel flexes his digits, sweeping the pad of his thumb across your beautifully swollen clit to tandem with his fingers.

Shifting your hips, you rock yourself on his fingers, allowing your big tits to bounce and ripple in harmony. Opening your eyes, you can see him jerk his heavy, weeping cock at the same pace as he pumps into you, the strong expanse of his forearm tensed with chorded muscle. The view getting you closer and closer by the second.

“Think you can take more? I know your sweet pussy is gonna milk me dry.” Joel stretches his fingers inside of you, licking his lips, his eyes glued to your own.

Never have you had a man talk to you like this during sex. Often, your background music to get off was either the squeak of the bed frame or the buzz of your pocket bff after you were laying, disappointed, in a wet patch in your bed.

“Oh, you like me talking to you, don’t ya? You like it when I tell you how tight your cunt is, hm?” Joel’s upper body is covered in a small sheen of sweat, his fingers somehow able to quicken and maintain the even pressure.

“I’m gonna come, fuck.” Your hips grind harder, movements in tandem with Joel’s allowing your big tits to jiggle and ripple.

A familiar warmth spreads through your pelvis and hips, growing higher and higher flushing to the tips of your ears.

Joel, praying so hard that he doesn’t come, stops jerking himself, instead lowering his body so that he can drink your sweetness from the source. “That’s it. Good girl. Come all over me.” He speaks into your sopping wet pussy. Through thick lashes, he peers over the soft valleys of your stomach and hips, his tongue and fingers not stopping but calming to a slow, steady motion.

Ears still ringing, you prop yourself back on your elbows once more, enjoying the view of the southern man, eyes closed kitten licking at your pulsing hole.

In feeling your muscles flex in movement, his eyes pop open. He pulls his fingers from you, holding them in front of his face and scissoring his first two fingers, examining the silky wetness of your come. Without show or performance he places them in his mouth, past his knuckle in order to finish his meal.

Not wanting to waste another minute without him inside of you, you extend yourself, reaching to the top drawer of your night stand, grabbing a box of condoms and rattling them in his direction.

“I think twelve times might be ambitious but I’ll sure give it a go.” The flirty twinkle in his eye makes you cock your head to the side, giving him an over exaggerated eyeroll. He grabs the package from you, using his teeth to perforate the cellophane and pry open the untouched box.

Pumping his length a few times, Joel scans your entire body; toes, knees, thighs all the way to the undoubtably frizzy fucked curls framing your face. “You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen in my life.” It’s not until he finishes the sentence that you look up at his face, meeting his gaze that was waiting for your eyes. He slides the lubed condom over his shaft before joining you, kneeling between your parted thighs on the bed.

Biting your lip, you watch his actions in earnest, allowing his words to settle on your skin. Although never the best at taking compliments, this was not one you wanted to deflect. This beautiful, strong, southern man was looking at you with reverence and you were determined to believe it, if only for tonight.

Lowering himself on one elbow, he reaches your leg with his other arm, hooking it over the sturdy angle of his hips, his eyes never leaving yours.

Sweetly, his lips find yours, having that gentle quality that you shared in the bar. Pulling back only slightly, his eyes peer south, grabbing the base of his cock and rubbing it up and down the wetness of your slick, tap tap tapping it on your now engorged clit.

On your gasp, his eyes dilate further, unable to keep that goddamn slanted smile off his face.

Only in this moment have you noticed that when he smiles, he does with his whole face. Yes, his lips move but also his cheeks, creating a domino effect on his eyes, crinkled at the side, and the soft raising of his ears. Fuck, he was handsome.

It was your turn to peer down, looking at the way his cock was teasing you. Cheekily, you manoeuvre your hips, making the tip of his cock, notch against your cunt, causing Joel to swallow a moan and for you to smirk. “C’mon pretty, I wanna feel you stretch me with that big dick of yours.” You circle your hips, trying to make him do it again.

Leveraging your leg on his hip to raise your hips higher, he sinks into you, slowly, inch by inch until he is seated fully. Eyes cemented on yours as your smirk turns into a moan.

“Jesus Christ”

“Fuck, Joel”

Joel held still for a moment, the hand that secured your leg over your hip sweeping up and down the expanse of your thigh. “Damn you’re fucking tight.” His lips lower, licking and kissing over your collarbone and neck, the sweetness of your perfume now musky, mixing with your sweat.

As he pumps his hips with long, deep strokes, you thanked the sex gods that he had a pretty face and a pretty dick. His cock was big and thick, stretching you and making you feel beautifully full, fuller than you ever had been.

Working your hips, you moved in parallel with Joel. Pulling your hips back into the mattress when he pushed his pulsing length deep inside, bridging your hips upwards when he retreated. You didn’t want there to be a moment when he wasn’t inside you, moulding your pussy to fit his perfect size.

Joel slants his lips against yours, not waiting to push his tongue deep and long against your own. It wasn’t controlled, it was sloppy and wet, your hand threading through his hair and pulling at the disheveled strands.

The taste of him, mixed with your come and the faint memory of whisky had you rolling your eyes. It was desperate, reckless, kissing someone you barely know like this, like your life depended on it.

Pulling back, he arranges you, one leg still wrapped around his hip and the other raised up, ankle on his broad, freckled shoulders. “This okay?” His eyes, somehow wider, looking for any change in your expression, ensuring you’re comfortable.

You answer with your heels digging into his shoulder and the small of his back, pulling him into you. He feels bigger this way, his cock able to get deeper, on some strokes kissing that detonate button buried deep inside you.

It’s almost as if you forget how to breathe as he gets faster, the hair on his thighs and lower stomach now glistening with your slick as they rub against you.

Joel lifts you higher, allowing him access to grab at your ass, spreading it slightly, making your head spin and pussy flutter. “That’s it. Cmon, baby. I need to feel you come over my cock.”

This feels primal, biological; as if this night, this moment was written in the fabric of your DNA. Meant to happen.

With your eyes rolling back, you give over your body, surrendering to the will and strength of this man. Joel, feeling that he could combust at any moment looks skyward, willing his body to endure this sweetness for longer.

Bringing his thumb to your poor, swollen clit, Joel rubs in quick, deep circles, his pelvis and hips stuttering as he feels his impending orgasm.

“Fuck yes.” You come, eyes rolling, toes curling and pussy squeezing against the heavy cock inside of you. Your eyes snap shut, your jaw clenches as Joel continues to pump in and out of your spent pussy.

“Mmmmmmfuck” you peel yourself from ecstasy long enough to see Joel come. Each beautiful angle and muscle on his body tensing, his eyes scanning over your flushed face, that smile of his appearing again.

Inching towards you, he kisses you sweetly, the curls at the nape of his neck getting curlier by the second. His giant palm rests on your cheek, deepening the kiss slightly, running his thumb over your jaw.

It doesn’t take long for you both to get cleaned up. You grabbing the oversized T-shirt that lay dormant under your pillow and him finding his boxers in the far corner of the room.

A conversation isn’t had about whether Joel should sleepover or not, instead you fall into each other again; kissing, biting, licking, unable to stop but too tired and a little drunk to take it further.

An ungodly vibration on wood wakes you from the best sleep you’ve had in months. Shooting up in bed, you immediately regret your pace, your head tender from the night before.

Scanning your surroundings for a minute, a little seed of disappointment plants itself when you realise you’re alone, no Texan man in sight.

You swipe across the screen, putting your phone on loud speaker before you faceplant back into your pillow.

“Hello?”

”Good morning, princess.” You can hear the sarcasm dripping from your best friend’s voice. “I was gonna call you last night to see how your date went with the contractor but I’m guessing due to my 5 unread texts that it went quite well, hm?”

Stretching your body like a cat in the sun, you grab your phone and lay it on the pillow next to you, feeling like you’re at a sleepover.

“It went well, yeah.” You hear the smile through your voice before you realise it’s there. “He is so fucking hot, got that Mr Darcy stoic thing about him but he is definitely a dark horse.” You turn to lay on your tummy. “Honestly, it got to just about closing time at the bar and I didn’t want it to end. We got back to my place and he went full fucking caveman. And his dick is fucking gian-“

Your soul leaves your body as you hear a hoarse throat clear. Flipping around you see a fully clothed Joel with two cups of coffee hovering at the threshold of your bedroom door. With no notice you hang up the phone, shoving it somewhere in the bed before sitting upright.

“I hope you don’t mind, I didn’t want to subject you to the uncaffeinated version of me too early.” His movements are slow, shy almost as he hands over the cup and perches himself on the side of your bed.

“I thought you pulled an Irish goodbye on me.” You take a long sip, peering over the ceramic as you drink, the sarcasm shield firmly intact.

“And miss seeing your Cookie Monster T-shirt in the daylight? I don’t think so.” He teases, reaching for the hem of your shirt which grazes your mid thigh.

“I had a lot of fun last night.” He rests his giant warm palm on your leg, his brown eyes almost doe like.

“Me too. Think you finally broke my curse of bad dates, pretty.” You set the mug on your nightstand.

Joel flushes at the nickname, immediately taking him back to last night's events. Placing his mug next to yours, he scoots forward, cradling your jaw and placing a sweet, chaste kiss on your lips.

Unable to resist, he deepens the kiss. His big fingers thread through the mess of tangled curls as his breathing becomes heavier.

Pulling away, he keeps your faces close together as he scans your sleepy features. A goofy looking grin works its way across his face as he chuckles softly.

“What?”

He shakes his head softly, the smirk not letting up. “Can I have your number?”

Your head bows slightly, falling to rest on his broad chest as a silent laugh works its way through your shoulders. The sex last night was incredible, not the typical first time timidness so the thought of this man not having your number seems so ridiculous.

Joel presses a kiss into your hair, inhaling that scent that now makes something stir at the base of his spine.

Sunday afternoon rolled in slowly. Joel stayed for a hearty breakfast of cocoa puffs before heading back home, the impression of him lasting through the sweet ache in between your thighs.

Your current boyfriend, the high fairy king, had just slayed the mortal who spoke ill of his mate as a notification pops up on your phone from the Texan himself.

[image attached]

damn, that looks so good

I’m jealous

Last night work you up an appetite?

certainly did

it is good

but it’s got nothing on what I ate last night

The smile on your face had your cheeks hurting. Last night was not a normal first date. The level of attraction and passion you’d felt was nothing you’d ever experienced.

Rolling your head to rest on the top of your couch, you can’t imagine any date going better than your one with Joel. It makes you anxious but in a way where it feels like butterflies in your stomach.

Before you can reply to Joel your phone pings again, but this time the message from your best friend.

Okay gentleman Joel might’ve been good but just wait for first date number two before you make up your mind.

This is Javier. 🙂‍↕️😮‍💨😚😋🫠

Clearing your throat you look at the image of date number two.

Think I should give him a shot.

For science. 🙂‍↕️🤓

npt/ tag list 🏷️ @gothcsz @chasingthepoguelife @mandaloriankait @probablyreadinsmut @half-moon16 @brittmb115 @noisynightmarepoetry @maried01 @witchy-and-persnickity @drunk-and-capable @angiewatson @toshatoshalopez @qutequeersstuff @indiegirlunited @jolalibrary @sheepdogchick @regularjoel @iknowisoundcrazy

[taegularities]

colour me in: photograph (teaser) | jjk (m)

Summary: With both your and Jungkook's careers seemingly peaking, the future feels promising and bright. Yet, amidst the glowing hope, one single phone call dims the light in the rooms of your shared home.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; angst, fluff, smut ➳ warnings: [redacted spoiler that shall drop with the chapter], tears, sadness/grief, doubts, tender moments, talk of jk's future and his art, support, jk's dad, surprises, (talk of) a break up oop, mention of children (i guess that's a warning lol), explicit sexual content: let-out-some-steam-sex, dom!jk, big dick!jk, he's actually insane. more details shall be added on drop day; the ending.. <3 ➳ word count: around 760 for the teaser; 25-30k for the chapter ➳ a/n: get ready, it's gonna hurt for a whiiile now :') as always, come n talk to me about this 🤍 ➳ listen to: holo by leehi | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

“You do know that we’re supposed to meet up with them in like,” you drop your eyes to your wrist, pulling back the sweater to unveil your watch, “forty minutes, right?”

“And you think they’ll complain about some extra time alone?”

You deliver a blank stare, not a single blink as you watch him shrug a shoulder. He sports a smirk that you would’ve clenched your jaw to months ago, but today, even if you won’t admit it right this second, it amuses you.

He laughs when you stand there unmoving, like a stick figure silently reprimanding a lethargic boyfriend. You hate to break, but when the contagious chuckle infects you, too, you feel a light wave of relief and serotonin ripple through you violently.

Jungkook hasn’t left vacation mode just yet; while the work for the gallery is still ongoing and he diligent, you catch him slouching ever so often, doodling away at times. You’ll confess, the grey outside is tiring; different from the sunnier countryside you left behind.

There’s a sort of post-bliss blues that even you can hardly shake off.

“You can’t deny that, can you?” he utters amidst his melodious laugh, and you roll your eyes, taking two big steps towards him — much like two days ago.

“I don’t have to deny it to still teach you the importance of punctuality, right? Get up,” you say, smacking his hip — and he uses the opportunity to lift his arm from under his head, reaching for you, but… failing. “Uh-uh. Enough with your tricks. Get up.”

Last night still wasn’t enough — is it ever? You’re not surprised; neither by his thirst nor by your own inner, involuntary reactions. But no time. It’s rude to let people wait.

And you know exactly what Jimin would say — tease — if the two of you arrived at the double lunch date with him and Yoongi too late again.

Jungkook’s voice turns half into a yawn, half into a sigh, tired when he responds, “Yes, ma’am.”

This should do.

But since everything good comes in three, and just for good measure, you add another laser-glance, shooting at him in warning to lift his ass and meet you ready once you are, too. A playfully sigh breathed, you amble to the bathroom, make up awaiting on the sink from when you put it there this morning.

This shouldn’t take long; you’re opting for the minimalistic approach today.

As the hues colour your lips and fill your lashes, you hum a random melody you can’t quite identify. It’s quiet in the apartment until it isn’t — and when Jungkook’s voice chimes, your hand halts mid-mascara-stroke, assuming he’s calling for you.

He’s not; you understand this much when he greets the person on the other end in his liveliest tone at first, volume decreasing as the conversation continues. He’s soon hushed enough for you to not really make out proper words anymore. Hums here and there — Jungkook doesn’t seem to say much at all.

Perhaps it’s Yoongi, or Tae, telling a story. Narrating recent occurrences, the joys and pains that emerged and shrivelled on the vacation that you weren’t part of anymore.

You don’t ask just yet, decide not to disturb.

You finish up whatever is left of your routine, setting the make up and ruffling through your hair, adding volume. When the talk he’s indulging in still remains when you deem yourself ready, you let out a breather and step back into the bedroom.

Still in the same clothes and with the untamed hair as his crown, Jungkook’s gaze is lowered, fingers barely curled into the sheets. He’s sat up now; you see his Adam’s apple bob when you walk in. Instinctively and immediately, you blurt, “Now what did I tell you just a moment ago—”

But the jest dries in your throat and then fades, as dead as Jungkook’s eyes when he looks up at you. Or maybe… maybe they’re not dead.

More so — in disbelief. As if he hasn’t really fathomed what he’s just heard, mind sprinting in circles, attempting to understand.

His chest isn’t moving as it should, and just in general, his body emits inner trouble. Distress. When he lifts his pupils and shifts them towards you, it looks as if he’s hoping that your presence could reverse reality, as if you’re pulling him out of the inevitable quicksand.

But you can’t. You get it; see it right away.

Because the watery gaze and the gap between his lips, this expression, are new to you, no matter how many of his aches you’ve mended. And you guess it has something to do with what his conversation partner just said.

Something that certainly wasn’t part of today’s agenda at all.

the way i even had to change the banner bc it'd be such a spoiler lmaoooo but yeah anyways, what do we think? y'all's thought always help immensely, and life has been so busy that writing took a backseat – getting back into it is hard. but you guys offer so many theories as well as love and always motivate me, so come and let's talk <3

[cactus-cuddler]

𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒚 ✭ 𝑨𝒕𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub! virgin female reader

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Plot: There is no specific plot. Bucky and the reader like tease and are both dangerously attracted to each other

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: explicit sex, use of nicknames as "good girl", "slut" and "whore". Daddy kink and dirty talk. I don't think there are any other warnings.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 4.5k (sorry)

-------- ≪ °✾° ≫ Author's note: sorry for any mistakes that may be there, English is not my first language! And sorry if the scenes may be badly written, it's been a long time since I wrote a smut between a woman and a man.

I write this ff because today I turn 18 (Happy Birthday to me!!) and I want so sign it. From today I can interact with all the "minor DNI" posts!!

I don't care if you are minors, read it if you want <3 ------------------------------------------------------------------------

James Buchanan Barnes. The very mention of this name can make your heart race, recalling his powerful presence, his toned physique, and the intense gaze he fixes on you whenever your paths cross. Your thoughts often wander to him, an obsession that fills your mind in the quietest hours of the night.

Yet, despite the thoughts that consume you, you're still a virgin. You’ve never found someone you were willing to give your heart to, let alone something more intimate. You've had relationships, but each time, you’ve held back, refusing to let things go beyond harmless flirtation. The thought of being vulnerable like that has always kept you at a distance. But with him, it’s different. There’s something about Bucky that makes you reconsider everything.

Your relationship with Bucky is hard to define. Sometimes you get along well, but other times, you find yourself wishing he would just disappear. And then there are moments when you wish he’d stop arguing with you altogether, using his frustration in ways that words can’t express. Is that too much to ask?

You’re curled up on your couch with a cup of hot chocolate in hand and a blanket to ward off the winter chill. As you flip through the channels, trying to find something to watch, your phone buzzes with incoming messages. Seeing his name on the screen sends a pang through your chest.

Teasing him has always been your favorite game. You start a random movie, not really caring about the plot, as you wait for him to arrive. The distant sound of a motorcycle engine signals that you're in trouble now.

When the doorbell rings, you open it, quickly masking your excitement. He’s standing there in his pajamas, and you can’t help but giggle. His pants have a childish space motif, and the matching sweatshirt does nothing to diminish his appeal. You’re wrapped in a blanket, so you're not much better off in his eyes.

"Popcorn?" he asks, and you invite him in. As he sees the movie already playing, he reminds you of his earlier request. You shrug and sit on the couch, munching on the popcorn he brought.

“You’re a bad girl,” he says, taking the remote to choose something else to watch.

“Just the way you like them,” you reply with a smirk.

You and Bucky work together in the same company, nothing out of the ordinary. You handle the computers and accounting, while Bucky works with metal. His vibranium arm would be perfect for his job, but he rarely uses it. "Oops, I’m right-handed, I do it without thinking," he says when someone asks why he doesn’t use his more powerful arm. You’ve seen how he looks at women, and it stirs something within you—a mix of jealousy and curiosity.

You first started talking after you accidentally spilled coffee on his white shirt a few months ago. To make amends, you offered to clean it, using a trick you’d read in a 1950s magazine titled "How to Be the Perfect Housewife." Not that you’re aiming for that role; you detest the idea of being confined by outdated gender roles. Patriarchy is disgusting! You would never want to marry a man in your life who confines you to a house with four children, a dog, three cats and a cactus to take care of alone.

Your conversations started off innocent enough, but things took a turn when you began texting late into the night. You both started teasing each other, pushing boundaries just to see how far the other would go. It became a game, one where neither of you wanted to lose face, even as feelings began to creep in.

So, how did he end up at your place tonight? You’re not sure, and it worries you. He’s never been to your house before. Sure, he’s given you rides home after work, a habit that started after the coffee incident. It became a routine, all because you playfully challenged his chivalry. “You? A gentleman? Don’t make me laugh,” you had texted him one morning. That very day, he was waiting outside your building, opening the car door for you. "It doesn’t mean anything," you had said to him in thanks. But tonight feels different.

The movie he picks is just awful. It’s filled with scenes of sex without sense.

“Is this too much for you? Should I change it?” he asks each time, and you just shake your head. In your life you see, read and write stuff more scandalous.

“How boring, if done like this even sex becomes boring," Bucky complains about another sex scene with the missionary position.

“You talk big, but I bet you couldn’t do any better,” you say, challenging him, not realizing what you’ve just started.

“With just one touch, I could make you scream my name,” he says, his voice low and intense. You can feel the heat rise to your cheeks, but you’re not backing down.

“I’d like to see you try,” you whisper, the challenge clear in your voice.

He looks at you, his gaze lingering, but then he sighs and turns back to the movie. “I’m a gentleman,” he says softly. “I wouldn’t take advantage of you like that.”

You feel a wave of frustration, mixed with a sense of longing that you can’t quite shake. You don’t want him to be a gentleman; you want him to see you as more. You’re a ruthless woman, you won’t give up easily. If you are not satisfied with him, well you will do it yourself. In front of his eyes.

You take off your blanket and lift your shirt up to your hips and pull your panties off throwing them on the floor. You lie down on your back and put your feet on his knees. You put two fingers in your mouth and suck them in front of him. ‘He provoked me’. You repeat yourself so you don’t feel guilty about what you’re about to do.

You do small circular movements on your clit and slowly start to sigh for the pleasure you are causing yourself.

“Bucky..." you say between moaning as you start to penetrate your little cunt with two fingers. Bucky is doing everything he can to hold himself back. His erection thills in his boxer asking to be released and enjoy for you and your warmth however he does not want to give up. It will not look but has solid moral principles and not taking your virginity is one of those.

“Bucky… please fuck me with your cock,” you say clenching your couch with fingers to hold back your spasms. This provocation has hit the mark, his erection is now painful and not releasing it could drive him crazy. Reach out to your face, sweat drops are playing on your forehead. He orders you to sit down and you perform. You are sitting one next to the other and you have your leg over his to allow him free access to your pussy.

"I won’t take your virginity," he announces by passing his thumb along your big lips. An unsatisfied grunt comes out of your lips, you want more. Much more than that.

“Why not?" you complain "I want you Bucky, I want to shout your name" add grumbling.

"It would be a nice show, believe me sweetheart but I can’t deprive you of your first time with someone you love," he says. In a flash all the previous excitement fades away as if in a spell. You close your legs and ask him to leave. "You can’t decide what’s right or wrong for me" you told him by pulling out your voice. He’s made his choice, and for tonight, that will have to be enough.

As he leaves, you find yourself wondering what it would take to bridge the gap between you. Because despite everything, one thing is clear: you want more from him, and you’re not sure how much longer you can wait.

The next morning, you wake up hoping that the night with Bucky was just a bad dream—a nightmare you could shake off with a shiver. But as you lie there, staring at the ceiling, you realize that it was all too real. The memory comes rushing back: you, vulnerable and exposed, touching yourself in front of him, moaning his name, only to be met with rejection. Your cheeks flush with a mix of shame and frustration. How could I have let myself go like that?

But there’s another thought that creeps in, unbidden. Despite everything, a part of you finds it almost sweet that Bucky doesn’t want to take your virginity unless it’s something more than just lust. He wants you to save it for someone you truly love. But the truth is, you do want it. You want him. The image of his lips on yours, his hands exploring every inch of your body, flashes through your mind, and you feel a pang of desire so intense it nearly takes your breath away. You’ve fantasized about him for so long—wondered if he could fulfill the dark, desperate needs you’ve kept buried. You’re sure you wouldn’t regret giving him your first time, so why should he?

‘Maybe he doesn’t want me,’ you think suddenly, the possibility of hitting you like a bucket of cold water. ‘Maybe I’m just a game to him, someone he can tease and torment without ever really wanting.’ The thought is unbearable, twisting in your gut like a knife.

You force yourself out of bed, deciding that you won’t let these thoughts ruin your day. Before work, you brew a hot cup of coffee, hoping the caffeine will give you the energy you need to push through. You can’t face Bucky today—not after last night. Instead, you opt for your favorite mode of transport, the one so many dismiss as the “poor man’s commute.” But you’ve always found the train comforting, a place where you can disappear into your thoughts without the pressure of small talk or the need to keep up appearances.

The ride is uneventful, the rhythmic clatter of the train soothing your nerves somewhat. When you arrive at your stop, your office is just a short walk away. You’re early—too early, really—so you take your time, letting your mind wander as you stroll. The morning air is crisp, and the world feels strangely peaceful. ‘Why can’t my mind be this calm?’ you wonder, but of course, it’s not that simple. Last night’s events linger, casting a shadow over everything.

Just as you’re about to step inside, your phone rings, the sound jolting you out of your thoughts. His name flashes on the screen, and your heart skips a beat. What does he want now?

"Y/N, come down now or we'll be late!" Bucky's voice snaps through the line, sharp with irritation. You can almost see the frown on his face, the way his brows would knit together. But with a calmness that surprises even you, you tell him you're already at the office, having taken the train.

"I hope you're joking," he growls, his voice low and husky, sending a familiar shiver down your spine. Even when he's angry, it's a voice that could melt you.

"Sorry, I should have warned you," you reply, hanging up before he can say more. The truth is, you didn't want to face him this morning, not after last night. The thought of seeing his cold blue eyes, remembering how they watched you with a mix of desire and restraint, makes your chest tighten.

You greet your colleagues warmly, slipping on your glasses as you sit at your desk, but your mind is elsewhere. The memory of Bucky's gaze, the way his hand almost trembled before he pulled away from you, keeps playing on a loop.

Hours pass in a blur of work until lunchtime, when Bucky suddenly appears at your usual spot in the break room. The moment you see him, your heart skips a beat. His presence fills the space, commanding and intense. You watch as he approaches, your colleagues' chatter fading into the background.

"I need to talk to you, Y/N," he says, his voice a mix of urgency and something deeper-something almost vulnerable. His eyes, however, are still guarded, a wall you've never been able to fully break through.

Your colleagues exchange knowing glances, smirking, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. Without a word, you follow Bucky out of the room, conscious of the curious eyes behind you.

He leads you to the women's bathroom, and as soon as the door closes, he turns to you, his expression unreadable. "I'm sorry," he begins, but the words seem empty, as if even he doesn't believe them.

"For what?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart is pounding now, and you don't know if it's from anger, confusion, or the mere proximity to him.

"For last night. I have no right to tell you who should take your virginity," he says, but you quickly cover his mouth with your hand, the heat of embarrassment rushing to your face.

"Don't say that out loud!" you hiss, glancing around as if someone might be listening. The idea that anyone might hear about your inexperience makes you cringe.

His lips curl into a smirk beneath your hand, and he gently removes it, his fingers brushing your skin in a way that sends a jolt of electricity through you. "Do you still want it?" he whispers, leaning in close enough that you can feel his breath on your neck. His voice is dark, teasing, but there's something else there too-a hint of uncertainty, as if he's afraid of your answer.

Your breath catches as he presses his knee between your legs, his hands firm on your hips. God, why does he have to be so confusing? You need him, but his mixed signals are driving you insane.

"You have to understand, I don't want you to regret anything you do with me," he murmurs against your lips, finally adjusting his knee just where you need it. Your body responds instantly, a wave of heat pooling between your legs.

His words are laced with concern, but also with a promise of something darker. "Even though it may not seem like it, I really care about you," he continues, his thumb tracing circles on your cheek, a gesture so tender it makes your chest ache. You feel small under his gaze, like a puzzle he's trying to figure out. And yet, in this position, you're certain you could unravel completely in his hands.

"The day I fuck you, I want to hear words like 'I love you, Daddy' coming out of your mouth. I don't want it to be a simple one-night stand, okay?" he finishes, pulling back just as quickly as he came, leaving you breathless and reeling.

As the door closes behind him, you're left with the echo of his words, your thoughts spiraling. 'How can he have this much control over me?' you wonder, struggling to steady your breath. Your heart is racing, your body still humming with the desire he left behind. Until yesterday, you were convinced your relationship with Bucky was built on mutual dislike and a twisted game of dominance. But now, you're not so sure. There's something deeper-a need, an almost primal urge to possess and be possessed.

The day you finally give in to him won't be gentle. You can feel it in the way your bodies clash, in the intensity of his gaze. It will be raw, fierce, and everything you've secretly craved. And when it happens, you'll be ready to let him see every part of you-the parts you've never shown anyone else, not even yourself.

After work Bucky takes you home, you decide to let go of what happened because now you know that he wants you as much as you do. He wants to be there for you and give you everything you can give.

"I've been thinking about what you said all day," you admit, adjusting Bucky's seatbelt. It feels tighter than it should and you think it's the reason you're short of breath when in reality it's the man in the driver's seat who's gripping the wheel in a way that's too erotic for your tastes.

"What conclusion have you come to?" he asks without taking his eyes off the road. The way his jaw clenched when he spoke and the hint of a neat beard on his cheeks spark some very perverse thoughts in you.

"I want you Bucky, so much. It wouldn't be a one night stand, I know I'd be addicted to your body pressing against mine," you admit bravely and a smile lights up his face.

“Show me how much you want me,” he taunts you.

You decide to please him without using your sharp tongue and you reach out to the crotch of his pants to feel what you have dreamed of so much. Under your fingers you feel him slowly swelling and as you feel it you bite your lip to hold back the excitement that is growing inside you.

You unzip his pants while he is still driving, you notice that he has slowed down and on his face you notice the desire he has for you. As soon as you free his cock you notice that your fantasies did not do him justice. It is definitely bigger and thicker than the one you imagined you rode every night. You wet your hand with saliva - as you have seen done in many pornos - and you start to touch it enjoying the heat on your hand.

You make small movements with the palm of your hand and the idea that someone could see you does nothing but excite you more. You are not an expert, you do not know what he might like more but despite this the movements of your hand are decisive.

"I knew you were a good girl," Bucky says from behind the wheel. Seeing how he's reacting to your touch excites you even more. His breathing is no longer regular, you see his expression satisfied by your touch and when you notice that there are only a few meters left to your house you almost feel sorry.

You start to pump faster, you have decided to challenge yourself and you want to make him come before you get to your house. As your hand increases the speed his sighs become faster and faster and when you see from his look that he is close to that point you take off your belt and lower yourself towards his big cock and take his tip between your lips until your mouth is filled.

"Such a good girl," he says to you while parking the car and you look into his eyes smiling, swallowing all his seed and licking your lips to show him that you liked it.

He fixes his cock in his jeans and then follows you into your home. He intends to return the favor you have done him and will really make you scream as he always threatened while he was teasing you. Once the door is closed behind you, you begin to kiss with desire. Your tongues touch and search for each other and feeling your taste mixed with his cum gives him another throbbing erection despite the orgasm of a few minutes ago.

“I knew there was a whore inside you looking for my cock," he tells you in a hoarse voice. Your body is on fire, you need him to give you more. He makes you lie down on the same couch where he rejected you less than twenty-four hours ago and begins to undress you hastily without paying attention to your clothes. He scatters everything around the room and when you are finally naked in front of his gaze he admires you in amazement.

You are perfect. Your body is perfect in his eyes. Every little imperfection that you see in it are things that he loves. You are a Greek goddess in his eyes and every part of you belongs to him and you both know it. From the day you stained his white shirt with coffee you already knew it would end like this.

He starts taking your breasts with his big hands, only his mind knows how many times he has wanted to touch them, bite them and suck them and now everything is possible. With his metallic hand he holds one of your nipples tightly, the cold touch of his hand makes you arch your back with pleasure and in the meantime he sucks and bites the other nipple making you want even more. Your gasps are music to his ears, your body is like an instrument in his hands and with every touch he is able to let out those little sounds he loves.

“Bucky, please I want more,” you beg with the help of your needy gaze.

"What a needy whore, isn't you?" he sneers and you nod to agree with him. You want to be his whore for tonight and for all the nights to come. He leaves a trail of kisses all over your body and then lingers on your pussy. The place where you need him to focus.

With his thumb he begins to touch your clit and in the meantime his gaze is fixed on your face dominated by pleasure from that insignificant touch. While with his thumb he continues his work with his middle finger he begins to penetrate your cunt going deep to feel how wet you are just for him.

"What a wet pussy we have," he compliments and then licks your juices from his fingers and satisfied he licks his lips.

He makes you sit with your back to the backrest and positions himself between your legs, placing your legs on his shoulders. As he enters you with two fingers, he begins to lick your clit while your hands are firmly on his head. You push him closer to you while desperate cries escape from your lips. Before that, you had never felt anything more pleasurable. His tongue moves expertly on your tight pussy sucking the right spots and alternating with licking.

“Bucky… I’m about to come,” you tell him between sighs of pleasure.

"Good girls only come when they are told, you are a good girl aren't you?" he tells you after taking his tongue off the place he was devouring with pleasure. He puts his fingers in your mouth and you impulsively suck his fingers taking all your flavor away from him. Your pussy is sweet and the taste and smell make Bucky ecstatic. He starts to undress too, letting his erection come out, now it seems even bigger than before and you don't know if you'll be able to take it all. But you know you'll make it, you want to show Bucky that you're a good girl. Good girls can take all the cock.

Before filling your pussy Bucky positions himself between your breasts and you squeeze them around his hard and veiny member. He starts moving with restrained rhythms while you stick out your tongue to lick the tip when you have the chance.

"You have no idea how much I've dreamed of being between these tits," he tells you between thrusts. Your hot tits around his throbbing cock are an incredible sight. Then Bucky takes a condom from his jeans pocket and orders you to put it on him.

You tear it off with your fingers and place it on the tip of Bucky's cock and then with your lips you cover that member with the condom.

“You're my good girl," he says, caressing your cheek. Then with a brusque gesture he turns you around and you find yourself doggy style on the couch with your legs wide open. He spits on his fingers and lubricates your pussy and then he enters you. Slowly and trying to get you used to it, it's still your first time.

His thrusts are slow but firm. It's not enough for you, you want more.

"Bucky..." you say between sighs.

"I know, baby... let your pussy get at ease to my big cock," he replies, putting his hand around your neck and then touching your breasts with the nipples still hard and stained by him. As soon as he notices that you no longer feel any pain, he increases his speed. He fills you up completely, making you scream with pleasure, he doesn't give you time to make you understand that he's sending your mind into a spin.

"Bucky... I'm going to..." you can't finish your sentence because he slaps you on the right butt. The slap sends you into paradise.

"You can only come when daddy tells you to," he replies, slapping you again, this time on your left ass cheek making you scream in pleasure.

After many deep and fast thrusts you feel the orgasm inside you, holding it back is fucking hard but you don't want to disobey Bucky, or rather, your daddy. He has taken away all your sharp responses with his cock turning you into a perfect whore for him. Like you always dreamed.

"Come for daddy, doll," he orders you, he's almost ready to come too but he wants to do it to you. On top of your body. You don't have to be told twice and you come on his big cock and as soon as he comes out of you he takes off the condom and orders you to get on your knees in front of him.

He starts touching himself in front of you and explodes in an orgasm on your beautiful face throwing away every single ounce of purity you had left. You lick your lips hoping to be able to take some of his cum and be able to taste it again like in the car. He grabs your neck and kisses you with fury. Your mouths both taste like the sex you shared and you can't be happier.

“You did really well,” he tells you and you bite your lip at the compliment. “I'm proud of you," he adds, giving you another long, longing kiss.

You go to take a shower to wash your sweaty bodies but "by mistake" Bucky's cock enters your pussy again and fucks you in your shower again giving you the second orgasm of the day and again by mistake his cock ends up in your mouth and Bucky teaches you how to give a blowjob that satisfies him. As soon as you finish the shower you slip into your bed, he wants to be with you after what you have shared and once in bed you fall asleep hugging each other.

The next morning, thankfully a Sunday, you devour everything you have to eat. You were so into sex that you didn't have dinner last night and your arguments resume but end with you rolling around in bed.

This new perspective excites you more than it should, every argument now corresponds to a perfect fuck and now to shut you up Bucky will put his cock in your mouth. "What a beautiful whore you are when you suck it," and these dirty words help you get an orgasm. Bucky says good girls like to be called whores and you are one.

"You're all mine," he tells you while you're sitting at the kitchen table where you've just finished eating, he said he wanted dessert so you you decide to propose yourself as a meal. You took off your panties and without being asked he was between your legs sucking and licking his sweet dessert.

"I love you daddy," you say closer to your orgasm, those are Bucky's favorite words. They make him understand that everything about you is his, your heart, your perfect cunt, your mouth and the rest of your body.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 1: Are You Always Like This?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you’re around him the more you hate him, but you can’t help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Implied/Eventual), Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Fake Dating

Word Count: 7.4 K (OOPS)

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

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

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

A/N: I know I know, I should be working on "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love," but this idea was swirling around in my head and I had to write it.

Spotify Playlist 🪴

Masterlist

Take A Chance On Me Masterlist

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

"Alright Butcher, I'm done." You sigh closing the file in front of you and standing from the worn wooden table covered in empty Chinese food containers and stacks of papers almost as tall as you. "If I read another word about trying to stop an electrical current, I'm going to commit toaster bath and I'm taking you with me."

It was late, past two in the morning, but Butcher had a lead on a B-list supe that had been using his electrical powers to steal cars and run a chop shop business downtown. You had been close to catching him yesterday, so close in fact that your eyebrows were still a little crispy from when he shot a bolt of lightning at your face that you only dodged in the nick of time when Soldier Boy grabbed the back of your shirt and yanked you out of the way. Unfortunately, your shirt hadn't survived, it had ripped and you spent the rest of the day wearing one of Butcher's oversize Hawaiian shirts all the while Soldier Boy told you that it was a waste to keep a pretty little figure like yours covered up.

I hate him so much.

When Butcher had initially asked you to join his team a month ago you were excited, but then you found out that you were going to be stuck with Soldier Boy. The supe, that despite Annie's arguments should be given back to the government and put on ice, was allowed to join Butcher's team after he took down Homelander. Who was currently frozen on ice, somewhere. As long as Homelander was far from you, you didn't care. The guy gave you the creeps.

But the team still couldn't figure out where the electricity manipulating supe was hiding or where he was dropping the cars, which meant you had spent the past twelve hours staring at files and a computer screen so hard that you felt like your brain going to melt out of your ears.

"Do whatever ya want kid. I'm not ya damn babysitter." Butcher grunts, his face hidden behind his own file. His boots were on the table and he was leaning back in his chair so far that you were tempted to tip him over, all it would take was a good solid kick.

You smile at him. Butcher was adept at pretending that he didn't want you around, of course you knew how antsy he got when you weren't there to offer your opinion. You figured that he just liked pushing people away and given his history you understood that.

Annie sits up from where she and Hughie are cuddling on the couch. "Why don't you stay?" Her brow furrows with worry. Annie was big on the whole, "women not walking at home alone at night thing," which normally you didn't, but you figured that whatever was waiting outside the apartment was probably less intimidating than Homelander. And you could handle it.

"Because I'd like to sleep in my own bed tonight and not that godforsaken rickety cot in the corner that Frenchie got. Can't stand that one spring that always seems so happy to see me." You pull your leather jacket off of the back of the chair and whirl it around your shoulders, before bringing your hair out from under the collar.

Hughie snorts.

"Hey, that cot is an antique!" Frenchie crows from his highbacked chair spewing a mouthful of smoke into the air. Kimiko was sitting at the coffee table in front of him working on her writing, a thick black marker clutched in her hand. MM was taking the night off, but you thought he was probably trying to avoid Soldier Boy.

"Yeah well, that cot is about as old as grandpa over there." You gesture to where Soldier Boy is sitting in another one of the armchairs in the corner watching you while puffing on a joint.

He was always watching you and due to your inability to read his mind it made it difficult for you to gauge what he was thinking, but you assumed that it was the usual macho crap he spouted 100% of the time. But he wasn't checking you out, well this time he wasn't. You had caught him staring at your butt more than once, and he'd made several comments about exactly what he'd like to do to you, but right now an emotion glimmered behind his eyes that you couldn't place.

Soldier Boy stands from the chair. He was wearing a dark t-shirt that stretched over his chest and a pair of blue jeans that fit him just right, well, if you were looking at that. You were, but it was easier to pretend that you weren't. It was easier to pretend that he wasn't the most attractive man you'd ever seen in your life.

Damn it, why does someone so attractive have to be such a dick?

 "A lady like you shouldn't be walking home alone this late." He frowns at you.

"Like me?" You arch an eyebrow.

"Good thing she ain't a lady." Butcher chuckles at his joke

You punch him hard on the arm, not enough to break it, but enough to make it hurt.

“Bloody hell woman.” Butcher rubs his sore bicep shooting you an angry look.

Not many people could look intimidating while wearing a Hawaiian shirt, but Butcher pulled it off. Not many people looked good in a Hawaiian shirt either, but Butcher pulled that off too.

"I'm serious." Soldier Boy's eyes narrow.

"Oh now you're so chivalrous?" You cock your hip to the side, planting your hands on your hips. "Didn't you try to kill me last month?"

"To be fair, you were trying to kill me-"

"Because you were trying to kill Annie. Where was the chivalry when you tried to tear me apart with your bare hands?"

"There are plenty of other things I'd like to do to you with my bare hands sweetheart." His grin turns wolfish. "I'd be happy to show you sometime, perhaps you'd like some company?"

"I'd rather spend an hour with that ancient spring than roll around with you." You tap your lip thoughtfully. “Then again I’m sure that cot is the same age as you and it can at least get it up.”

Annie muffles a snort behind her hand.

“Last time I checked everything was working, perhaps you’d like to see for yourself?” Soldier Boy smirks.

 "Can't you keep in your pants for once?" Butcher sighs, tilting the file downward to glare at Soldier Boy.

You can't help but smile at Butcher's response. Butcher might have tried to push you away, but even you could see his protective instincts. That became wildly apparent whenever you went out on a mission alone and although you would think that it was annoying for someone to think they needed to protect you, in Butcher's case you made an exception.

Soldier Boy rolls his eyes. "She shouldn't walk home alone."

You wave your hand over the wilting fern on the kitchen counter, eyes shifting to green for a moment as it perks up. It was the only plant in the house and although six people lived in this apartment, not one ever remembered to water it. "And you shouldn't butt into my business."

Soldier Boy opens his mouth to speak, but Annie interrupts his train of thought.

"Wait y/n. Coffee tomorrow?" Annie asks ignoring them. She's sitting up from the couch, her body turned towards you with both of her hands on the back cushions. 

She was one of your best friends, well, really one of your only friends. You'd grown up together and when Annie moved to New York you had decided to move and take some college classes in the city while you worked at a small garden shop after class part time.

The owner still couldn't figure out why nothing you cared for seemed to die.

You usually kept your status as a supe on the down low, and only used your powers when you really had to, which wasn't often before you joined Butcher's team. You'd only lasted two semesters before Annie came to ask you for help finding Soldier Boy and after that, Butcher asked you to join his team for shit pay. You accepted but you still worked at the garden shop part-time, also for terrible pay, but you loved it there.

Your powers made it easy to make sure nothing died and sometimes it felt like home being surrounded by plants. Caring for them was the one thing you seemed to be good at, and sometimes they felt like family.

You didn't have much family left, beside your grandmother and your older brother who still lived back in Des Moines, and sometimes it was lonely in the city. Annie was the only person who you'd been able to connect with since you moved, and now that you weren't going to classes the friends you made in college didn't really understand what you were doing with your life.

And telling them "oh I hunt down supes for a living and sometimes kill them" didn't really sound like something you could say in passing. It also did wonders for your dating life… NOT.

"Sorry babe, I'm at the shop tomorrow. But I'm off at 3 if you want to get coffee after?" You hold open the front door of the apartment, looking back at her expectantly.

You hated blowing Annie off, especially since the two of you hadn't been able to hang out outside of missions mostly because she was spending all her time with Hughie.

"Sounds great!" She beams.

And with that you disappear out down the hallway and into the night.

It's raining as you walk down the desolate streets. Cars splash water over the gum covered sidewalks that soaks through your tennis shoes and makes every step against the ground squish. But you ignore it.

You usually loved when it rained, loved to feel the cooling water pool against your skin, loved to hear the soft patter of it against the windows of your apartment, loved the earthy smell that came with the drops, but not tonight. You were still thinking about Soldier Boy.

You don't know why you let him get under your skin so much. You'd met men like him in the past and it was usually easy for you to brush them off, but not him.

I mean yes he is gorgeous, and maybe kind of charming when he's not trying to get into my pants, but I don't want just a one night fling. I want what Annie and Hughie have.

You think about your best friend and her loving boyfriend. You tried not to be jealous, but it was hard when the last time you had a lasting relationship was your first boyfriend back in high school who, when he found out you were a supe, was only interested if you had the power to shape shift into someone 'a little more busty.' The relationship ended with you locking him in a tree and the fire department having to come cut him out. He was fine, maybe a little more green than a normal person, but...

You'd heard that he got a job from the Green Giant Vegetable Company doing cameos as the Jolly Green Giant. So if anything, you helped him have a career?

Annie and Hughie were both head over heels in love with each other, knew everything about each other, didn't have any secrets, and it wasn't just sex, it was a close relationship with someone else who understood every part of you. You wanted that; and as much as you had avoided relationships in the past due to your supe status, you still hoped to find a supe that was kind and didn't think that they were a god for what they could do.

Why do so many have a god complex?

You think again about Soldier Boy. That wasn't the first time he had tried to coax you into bed and it wouldn't be the last, that was for sure. At first you had hoped that he would give up, it had been a month since you'd met, but he was still going strong, despite having a different woman in that apartment almost every night.

Maybe he's just really horny after being trapped in a lab all these years. Then again- You remember all the articles you read about him from the 80s, the ones that recorded his numerous escapades and think about his founding of Herogasm.

Maybe he's always like that, but he never comes on to Annie or Kimiko, only me. And I've threatened castration multiple times. You'd think he would care more about that than anything else.

You consider with a frown, clutching your jacket tighter around you. Rain trickled down from your hair and under the collar of your jacket to soak into your t-shirt. Your once light blue jeans were soaked to a dark navy with the amount of water that splashed up from the road and dripped down your back. For the first time in forever, you wished that it wasn't raining.

Probably should have just gotten a cab, but it's so expensive and-

"Hey baby." Someone calls from behind you.

Can't I just walk home without being hit on? One time?

"Not interested." You shout back, continuing to squish down the cracked sidewalks.

Three shadows peel off the wall of shops to your left blocking your path forward. Each is wearing a dark colored hoodie hiding their faces from view.

Is my luck really this bad? I never hear about Annie getting mugged or Hughie. And Hughie definitely looks wimpier than me.

"Don't be like that baby." The man behind you says.

You half turn your body so you can see all your supposed attackers at once. There are actually two men behind you, both wearing similar hoodies to the three now standing on your right.

Oh look they color coordinated their outfits… cute.

The man opens his mouth again.

"I'm gonna stop you right there." You hold up a finger. "I've been dealing with a horny 104 year old  geriatric man all day long. Please don't push me right now." It was an attempt to warn them, but you knew they probably wouldn’t listen to you.

No one ever does.

"Sounds like you need someone to relax with." The man smirks steeping forward to grab your arm. "I'd be happy to ease some of that tension baby."

"Look. I'm going to give you a chance to walk away. To avoid making one of the biggest mistakes of your life. Because honestly you all have the worst luck in the world." You jerk your arm away from him.

"I like em feisty.” He purrs stepping forward again while the others laugh. “Come on baby-“

He doesn't get to finish his sentence. You grab him around the throat, lifting him in the air like he weighs nothing, your eyes beginning to glow a brilliant green.

“I did try to warn you.”

"She's a supe!" He shouts struggling against your grip.

You throw him backwards into the other man standing to your right before facing the men on your left. Each one has pulled out a knife preparing to rush towards you.

"I get it. Y’all are out late, you bought matching outfits, but do we really have to-“

The first one rushes you, waving his knife through the air in a frantic dance. He doesn't get the chance to make contact with your arm. Vines erupt out of the pavement, breaking through the cracks in the concrete, binding themselves around the man who lets out a savage cry, quickly silenced while the vines continue to wrap around his body until there's nothing left but a mass of struggling green foliage on the pavement and some muffled screams.

He's lucky, could have had him dragged back under ground.

His friends stand there for a moment, eyeing one another as if they're not sure what just happened. You can practically see them trying to decide if you're still worth the trouble.

“Anyone else?”

The battle that follows is swift, the sound of cracking bones and the soft thud of punches landing echo over the soft patter of rain in the night as you dodge their blows and land your own against them. The vines continue to spread outward snatching up the men who fall to the ground in front of you, dragging each one up the street light above that sends yellowed light over the desolate streets. By now each bound body hangs from above like a sack of meat in a meat cooler, moving with the struggling men inside while the muffled cries shatter the still silence of the night.

Sometimes it's really too easy.

And as you begin to turn back someone grabs you by the hair, yanking you into their sweaty embrace. The leader's hot breath sticks to your cheeks, the cool metal of his switchblade pressing down so hard on your throat that you feel the pinprick of blood begin to form under the tip.

“What are you gonna do now bitch?” He snarls in your ear.

"Give you one more chance to surrender." You spit.

Like I'm going to give him the satisfaction of me begging for my life.

"I'm gonna enjoy this-" The man begins to say, pressing the knife deeper into your throat, but the rest of his sentence is cut off with a strangled cry as he's pulled away from you.

 What the hell just-

You turn around, freezing in shock.

Soldier Boy is crouching there in his t-shirt, jacket, and jeans over the man who just had a knife to your throat. His fist rising and falling as he punches the man in the face.

"Don’t you ever touch her." Soldier Boy snarls. His fist is already covered in blood, the man’s face a mass of bloodied tissue and bone.

"Stop you're going to kill him-" You run forward to stop Soldier Boy, but he doesn't stop even when you try to grab on to his hand.

"I said STOP." You shout louder, this time manipulating a vine to wrap around Soldier Boy's arm and restrain it.

Fuck he might already be dead.

"Let me go." Soldier Boy's eyes narrow. The usual green was replaced by a darkened pit with his rage. You'd only ever seen him this mad a handful of times, one of which was when the supe tried to zap you like a fly in one of those insect traps two days ago.

Why is he angry?

"I'm not going to let you go, until you promise not to kill him."

"I should." He snarls back at you.

"What are you talking about?"

He stands from the body, eyeing the last attacker who runs full speed down the sidewalk and vanishes into the darkness.   "I should kill him for trying to hurt you." Soldier Boy says simply.

You wave your hand allowing the vine to let go of his arm. "Where do you come off so high and mighty? You literally tried to kill me last month."

"That was before I-" He shakes his head angrily, eyes still blazing.

"Look I don't need you to protect me. Given what I've had to deal with all day I was looking forward to kicking some ass."

"You did." He smirks nodding his head in the direction of the men hanging from the streetlamp above you. “I just thought that you were outnumbered.”

"Why are you here?" You sigh pinching the bridge of your nose.

"I wanted to go for a stroll." Soldier Boy shrugs. He flexes his hand, before wiping the blood on the front of the sweatshirt of the man on the ground.

"Uh-huh. Well I don't need you to protect me." You say again, crossing your arms over your chest. "I had this handled."

"You sure doll?"

"Look I get it- you think that you're some knight in shining armor because you have this macho complex. But I'm fine on my own." You begin to step around the bodies of the men on the ground moving in the direction of your apartment, but Soldier Boy follows you.

"Where do you think you're going?" You turn to look at where he falls into step beside you.

"You shouldn't be walking home alone."

"Well you're sure as hell not going home with me."

His lip turns up in a smirk, towering over you. Soldier Boy is easily a foot taller than you, so broad that it's impossible to look past his imposing figure. It would be attractive if he wasn't so damn annoying. "Come on sweetheart, I know you want me to go home with you." He purrs with a smile. "I think you'd really enjoy it if I did. And I'll even let you tie me up with those pretty vines of yours." Ben leans in towards your face and you take a step back.

"Hard pass. So what? Is this your big move? Acting all chivalrous just to get a woman into bed with you?"

"That depends, is it working?"

"No. Now go back to the apartment, before I send you there in pieces." You turn back to squish down the sidewalk at a faster pace, hoping he will get a hint and leave you alone. But you knew he wouldn’t stop. He practically thrived on teasing you, had been the bane of your existence since you met him. And nothing seemed to dissuade him.

"What is your problem with me?" He jogs to catch up. "And don't say that it's because I tried to kill you, that was last month-"

"I think that's applicable to this week and the week after that and the week after that." You count out with every finger to further emphasize your point, but you know that Soldier Boy won't give up that easy.

"Are you always this fucking angry?" He almost laughs.

"I don’t know. Are you always this fucking annoying?" You turn to face him narrowing your eyes.

Soldier Boy chuckles at your look, running a hand through his hair that has darkened in the spray of water, his green eyes watching you curiously. They were shinning now, not the blacked pits of hate they were when he was beating the guy two minutes ago. For a second, just for a second, you see how handsome he is all over again.

"Come on, give me a real answer and I'll leave you alone." He's smiling at you now, giving you one of those boyish grins that, if it were anyone else, would make your heart stop.

He just wants sex. He doesn't care about you. He won't ever care about you. Breathe.

"Fine." You sigh. "You might say you're a supe, but you're not a hero. People like you and Homelander, you don't care about anyone but yourself. You use your powers for you and on your own terms. You were going to kill that guy-" You gesture back towards where the body is still on the ground, the man's heart beat is dangerously low.

"He was threatening you. A thank you might be nice." Soldier Boy's cheeks flush as he glares down at you with darkened eyes, his anger surging back in his chest.

"Yes he was threatening me, but I'm okay and you could have just taken him to jail. You didn't have to beat his face in."

"So you're saying if he had been attacking someone else you wouldn't have done the same?"

"I would have subdued him and then waited for the police to get there. The men hanging from the streetlight aren't dead. We aren't the law-"

"Right so those guys can get off with a warning and then go on and do the same thing over and over again." He scoffs rolling his eyes at you.

"It doesn't give you the right to kill them."

"I suppose you don't believe in the death penalty either."

"I believe in the death penalty Gramps. I just don't believe it is our job to carry it out." Your temper was flaring against your skin distracting you from the chill of the rain as it soaked into your clothes.

"Do you have any idea how many women would love to be saved by me?" Soldier Boy asks. He shakes his head as if he can't understand you.

You didn't blame him, most people didn't, that was why you spent most of your time alone.

"I'm not one of them. So leave me alone." You turn to go.

Honestly, why is this the kind of guy I attract? You roll your eyes to yourself. Oh you mean, tall, dark, handsome, gorgeous- The other little voice in your head whispers in your ear. NO. You tell yourself. Please I just want one guy who's not a total dick. Why is that so hard?

"I still don't think it's a good answer." He huffs.

"Of course you don't." You roll your eyes and begin to walk again. The streetlamps above send an eerie yellow glow over the parked cars along the road and over the crackled pavement. If Soldier Boy wasn't here bothering you, you might have stopped to admire the water as it splashed underneath the suspension bridge beyond the crowded buildings, but you wanted to get home. Without him if possible.

You glance over at Soldier Boy again. He looks normal right now, always does when he's not wearing his suit. And when he shut up you could see why people were so in love with him. It was when he opened his mouth that it reminded you exactly why you didn't like him.

You stop in front of your apartment building and force yourself to smile. "Thank you for walking me home." You say through tight lips, hoping that the false sincerity will make him leave.

He gazes up at your building with a frown. "This is a pretty shitty apartment building."

"Thank you. Not all of us inherited millions of dollars from our parents."

He pauses for a moment continuing to look up at the building, before he sighs loudly. "Look, I-." He sighs again. "I can't take listening to Annie and Hughie fucking. They go at it every night and she always makes the power go off."

You knew that already. It was another reason why you didn't like staying at the apartment, because listening to your best friend get railed by her boyfriend was not your idea of a good time.

You look up at Ben, and for a second you see a glimmer of the truth, just a flash of something that wasn't like the misogynistic attitude he usually had and it made you pause. He almost looked, sad and it made you feel bad for him. Of course you felt bad for him before, when you found out his entire team just gave him away to be experimented on and when probably the woman that he'd come the closest to loving really didn't care about him at all.

It must be incredibly lonely to come back to a world where almost everyone you know is dead. Guilt builds in your chest at the thought. I had lost my fair share of people, but not everyone in my life and I certainly didn’t learn about it on the same day.

"You know I think that's the first honest thing you've ever said to me." You say quietly shifting from foot to foot.

He half-smiles. "Maybe."

You chew on the inside of your cheek considering. You weren't afraid of him. You knew that with your powers you could take him. You were stronger than most and harder to kill. And despite the bad things you thought about him and knew about him, you kinda thought he was relatively harmless, well, you didn't think he was a rapist.

"Fine. But you're staying on the couch. And if I wake up and you're anywhere near my bedroom, I'll castrate you." You warn as walk up to the front doors and type in the code to unlock them, with Soldier Boy following behind you.

When you make it to the third floor, you raise one hand to stop him from going any further. It falls against his muscular chest and you fail trying not to admire how it feels beneath your hand.

Why am I so thirsty?

"If you wanted to grab my chest doll, all you had to do was ask-" Soldier Boy begins to say, but you raise the hand to cover his mouth.

"Shh." You hiss. "We have to be quiet or Mike will come out-"

"Who?" He asks, muffled against your hand.

You hear a door down the hallway creak open, spilling yellowed light onto the dark blue carpet of the hallway. "Shit. Too late."

Mike steps out of his apartment with a wide smile as soon as he sees you. "HEY y/n!" He crows, waving his free hand enthusiastically. "I didn't know you were getting in so late, but I wanted to give you this." Mike holds out a giant casserole dish filled with something that you can't identify. It's multi colored with multiple layers, one of which looks suspiciously like rice and the next layer looks like cake.

There's no way I'm eating that. Maybe if I force feed it to Soldier Boy he'll leave me alone.

Mike was your neighbor, your neighbor who had lived next door to you for the past 2 years and was shamelessly in love with you. And as sweet as he was, there were a few things that you couldn't get past, most namely that he lived with his mother and that he had a mullet.

One time you'd had a nightmare about it ripping itself from his head, breaking in to your apartment, and smothering you in your sleep.

Not fun.

"Hey Mike." You smile tightly at him, dropping your hand from Soldier Boy's mouth. "Yeah I'm sorry I was out with some friends."

"You should have asked me to come! I love your friends." Mike smiles so wide you're afraid that it's going to break his face. “Especially Butcher. He’s so funny. Always joking-"

Poor Mike.

Every time that Butcher had come over to talk shop, he would mock Mike endlessly. And Mike was just too sweet to realize it. Hughie was the only one who actively tried to be nice to Mike, but even he found it difficult. Annie was the worst though, she'd tease you constantly about what your children would look like and had taken to photoshopping mullets onto pictures of babies and sending them to you at inopportune times.

"Maybe next time." You cough out an awkward laugh while Soldier Boy snorts behind you.

You continue down the hallway towards your apartment, the door next to his, and hope that he'll go back into his home, but no such luck.

“My mom made this for you!” He holds the dish out towards you.

“Oh um that’s so nice of her. But I can’t except that-“

Mike's mother comes to stand in the doorway of their shared apartment. She was wearing a bright purple Mumu, her makeup caked thickly on her face and her eyes accentuated with bright blue eye shadow. “Sure you can sweetie. You’re Mike’s special friend.” She winks before trailing her eyes up and down your body. “And you’ve got such a cute little figure.” His mother does a little shimmy as if trying to get you to do the same.

Kill me now.

“That’s what I keep telling her.” Soldier Boy purrs behind you.

“Don’t make me kill you.” You mutter back, knowing full well he can hear you with his super-hearing.

Oddly enough Mike does look suspiciously like his mother, they are both the same height, exactly three inches under you, and have the same mullet, but hers is a shocking blue-gray and his is jet black.

He blushes at her words. “Aww mom.”

Soldier Boy muffles a laugh before disguising it into a cough. You elbow him hard in the stomach.

“Well thank you.” You take the casserole dish with one hand, hoping that you can open the door and usher Soldier Boy in before he makes a comment. "I've had a long day and it's really late-"

“I helped her make this one.” Mike interrupts scooting closer to you, so close that you get a lungful of his terrible cologne, the one that the super sells for four dollars and smells like baby powder and Cheez-its.

“A man who can do it all.” Soldier Boy whispers to you.

Mike looks above your head as if noticing Soldier Boy for the first time. “Who’s that? I thought I knew all your friends.”

“He’s certainly very handsome-“ Mike's mother blushes from the doorway.

“Your brother?” Mike offers.

You can see his expression turn hopeful.

Probably thinking about how he can become friends with "said brother" and that will escalate our "relationship." 

“I’m Ben.” Soldier Boy says, stepping around you to shake Mike’s hand. “I’m y/n's boyfriend.”

Your cheeks bloom a bright pink, unable to respond to the ridiculous statement that he just made.

Murder. That's what sounds good right now.

“Oh.” Mike’s face falls. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” His eyes flick back to you, disappointment swimming in the irises.

You watch Mike’s hope begin to circle the drain.

“Well actually-“ You begin, but Soldier Boy interrupts you.

“Sorry I’ve been out of town for a while. We've been trying to do this long distance thing- you know how it is, late night phone calls-“ Ben trails off with a wolfish grin before dropping an arm around your shoulders. “But I just couldn’t take the long distance. Missed her too much. Phone call isn’t the same as sleeping in the same bed. Definitely not as satisfying. Not to mention there’s only so much my hand can do.”

Your cheeks bloom an even brighter red at his insinuation.  That’s when Soldier Boy does something even more unforgivable, he pulls you tighter against him and kisses you right there in front of Mike and his mother. The kiss is searing, making everything in your mind go blissfully blank. It had been so long since someone kissed you, since someone had held you this close to them without trying to kill you. His tongue teases your bottom lip and before you can stop yourself you open your mouth wider to let him in sighing softly against his lips, while you grip the front of his jacket.

For a moment you can’t remember why you didn’t want him to kiss you, why you denied yourself of this for so long. And then Soldier Boy's hand slides from your back to grab a handful of your ass.

Right.

You slap him so hard across the face that you're sure it would have broken the cheekbone of anyone who wasn’t a supe.

But Soldier Boy only grins wider, squeezing your butt again. “She knows that I like it a little rough.” He turns his lazy gaze back to Mike.

You open your mouth to cuss him out.

“Well we should probably get going.” Soldier Boy breezes. “Probably going to be a long night. If you know what I mean. But we’ll try to keep it down. Then again my girl's a little loud.” He winks at your poor neighbor who looks like he might cry, while his mother stands behind him fanning herself like Soldier Boy is everything she wants in a man.

He's ten for ten with the older ladies I'll say that.

“Oh right. Well I guess I’ll see you around y/n.” Mike turns to go.

“Mike wait-“ You try to say but he’s already vanishing through the door.

“Nice to meet you Mark.” Soldier Boy calls at his retreating figure, getting his name wrong on purpose.

You don’t even use your key to open the door you're so mad, the plants inside let you in. As soon as it opens, you haul Soldier Boy by the front of his jacket through the doorway and pin him to the wall just inside.

The casserole dish lands on your counter and by some miracle doesn’t break.

“What the hell is your problem?” Your hand is fisted in the front of his shirt, eyes blazing with anger and embarrassment.

He only grins. “You didn’t want me to play along? Sounded like that guy had been trying to get into your pants for a while. Unless he already has been or you want him to?"

You flush a deeper shade of crimson. "That is absolutely none of your business!"

“Well if we’re going to be living together doll, I’m pretty sure it is my business.”

“WE AREN'T LIVING TOGETHER I'M JUST LETTING YOU CRASH ON THE COUCH TONIGHT AND THEN YOU'RE GONE.” You shout.

“I think you’re gonna get pretty attached to me sleeping here. Maybe even  you let me sleep in your bed and even fu-“

You knock him back against the wall again. “If you finish that sentence I’m going to throw you out the window.”

“If you keep knocking me around, Mike's going to think you’re into some pretty kinky stuff.” Soldier Boy smirks down at you. “It’s actually turning me on a bit. Is it turning you on?”

“I don’t have to let you stay here.” You growl, releasing him.

“I think it’s because you like me.” He teases.

“I don’t.” You frown grows. “Okay couch is there goodnight.”

You point in the direction of the worn leather couch. You'd hauled it up three flights of stairs with Annie when you first moved in after you found a guy online selling it for nothing. And when you showed up to get it, he presumed to say it would be free if you let him take a picture of your feet. And after, when he had a black eye and a fun story to tell his wife, he gave you the couch for nothing as promised.

“No kiss goodnight?” Soldier Boy pouts his lips innocently.

“You already had one of those.” You snap thinking about slapping him again and trying hard not to think about how much you wanted to kiss him again.

Get a grip.

“Right. You liked it.”

“No I didn’t. And the next time you shove your tongue into my mouth I’ll bite it off.”

“You’re really violent for such a little thing.” Soldier Boy eyes you up and down as if sizing you up.

“And you’re really dick-like for someone who’s supposed to have the wisdom of the ages.” You turn towards the hallway intent on going to bed to avoid any more conversation with him.

"Whoa." You hear Soldier Boy say as he looks into your living room.

It was the reaction that everyone had when they entered your apartment. You had a small one bedroom apartment on the third floor of a building that you believed might be older than Soldier Boy. The kitchen and living room was mostly one room, the kitchen to the left with outdated appliances and a small circular wooden table with three chairs that served as your kitchen table and desk, and was separated by the large leather aforementioned couch that faced the wall that held two large windows. Beyond the front door was a small hallway that held the only bathroom in the apartment and your bedroom.

But that's not what was surprising.

Every open space in your apartment was covered in plants. There wasn't a single piece of unused space in your apartment. There were large standing monstera and fiddle leaf figs shoved into every corner and pots of dark green pothos bolted into the walls trailing vines to the ground so that every wall looked alive. Jasmine crept along the wall behind the tv that sat on an antique credenza between the two windows, sending the bright scent into the living room.

There was a large rectangular box bolted in the space above your sink where herbs and tomatoes hung down, probably a fire hazard, but you didn't care. The vibrant smell of mint, the spicy smell of rosemary, and soft tones of oregano and basil fused the air in your apartment with a life force that was impossible to ignore.

A large apple tree grew in a pot as big around as you next to the couch, with brilliant red apples hanging from it's branches, while a lemon tree and a tangerine tree intertwined their branches just behind the kitchen table.  The refrigerator, once white, was covered in the tangled vines of blackberry and raspberry, hanging with full fruit, while a potted strawberry plant sits prettily on top of the kitchen table, the bright red fruit enticing.

It was a lot. You knew it was a lot, but helping plants grow was the only thing you were good at, the only thing that felt right. One day you hoped that you could move somewhere and open a farmers market, but today you were stuck here, with Soldier Boy, who probably thought that you were crazy.

"I mean. I knew you had plant powers but this is-" He begins to say.

"A lot. I know." You roll your eyes. "The bathroom is down the hall." You gesture with your free hand towards the darkened hallway. "I guess I'll get you a pillow."

Ben is still looking around the room dumbfounded, as if he's never seen anything like this in his life, and he probably hasn't.

He's been in a Russian Lab for the past forty years, I mean he's probably not used to seeing anything this green.

You find the extra pillow in the linen closet along with one of the crocheted granny square blankets you made last year when Annie and you had a Jaws movie marathon, and a towel, before you move back into the living room.

Ben is still standing awkwardly by the couch as if he's not sure what to do, and it's the first time you've seen him look lost.

"Here." You throw him the pillow and the towel before you drape the blanket over the back of the couch. "One night."

"Why are you working for Butcher?"

"What?" The question catches you off guard. You were expecting him to make another pass at you, maybe check you out again. He was looking at you, but it was different, his gaze was softer, curious.

"You don't seem like you-" He gestures around the room. "Like you fit."

You blink for a second. "Um."

"I mean Annie used to be one of the Seven, Hughie does whatever the fuck Butcher tells him, but you you're different." His brow furrows together as if he can't figure you out.

"I really don't want to do this with you."

"This?" He looks confused again.

"Opening up with one another. You're here for one night. That's it." You force yourself to say, but the reality was you were still surprised, surprised that he actually seemed to care.

Stop. He's changing tactics because nothing else worked. He's pretending to care about you because he still wants to sleep with you.

"Please."

You can't answer for a second. It was the first time that he'd said that word in front of you before, or acted this way. It was also the first time that it had just been the two of you, before Butcher had been there or Frenchie or Annie and Hughie, but this was the first time that the two of you had been left alone.

Maybe that's why?

You hesitate before you answer, he was the last person you really wanted to open up to.

"I don't know, it's not all that bad." You shrug. "Before I didn't really use my powers all that much except like this." You gesture around the room for emphasis. "And when I went to college everyone was so serious about their futures and I didn't really like any of the classes. The only thing I enjoyed was using my powers at Please Don’t Die, the plant store I work at. And then Annie asked me to come help her out-" You bite your cheek. "She's my best friend and maybe I wanted to spend more time with her."

"But is it what you really want?" He cocks his head to the side, holding the pillow in one hand and the towel in the other.

You'd never seen him look so calm before, relaxed, like being here with you was washing away any anger or frustration he still had about the past. It was confusing, and at the same time you could feel your heart beginning to betray you. It was hard not to fall for him when he looked so good, eyes soft, dark hair falling into his eyes, clothes still dripping rain on your hardwood floors.

No. I will not fall in love with him, I will not fall in love with-

"Goodnight Soldier Boy. I'll see you in the morning." You turn to go, ignoring his final question.

"You can call me Ben." He almost whispers it, the sound of his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine.

"What?" You look back at him.

"You never call me Ben. But you can, if you want." He shrugs his shoulders, before he shakes his head as if he's annoyed with himself for suggesting it. "Never mind, just fucking forget about it-"

"Goodnight Ben." You feel the end of your mouth twitch up into a smile and with that you disappear into your bedroom, locking the door behind you.

And deep down you know that it's not to keep him out, but to keep you in.

As always, thank you so much for reading!

If you liked this story be sure to read my follow up fic that takes place in the future:

Open Mic Night!

Or if you'd like to read another series please try:

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love!

If The Stars Wish It So

A/N: I know it's crazy to start another series right now, but I'm kinda feeling this reader and Ben together? What do y'all think about it?

A/N: Update I've made a huge mistake and started another series.

If you'd like to be added to the taglist please let me know!

(Photos for series picture from Pinterest)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester

[burreauxsss]

let em know.

background: y/n a wag for the chiefs who is dating travis kelce of 3 years finds out he cheated on her. she assures herself that she'd never watch the nfl nor date another nfl player, until a convincing quarterback hits her dms.

(all pics from pinterest)

synopsis: travis decides to use social media to be a pain towards y/n and joe becomes the guy travis wasnt in y/n's life

warning: this is a au aka alternative universe series. bengals are 13-3

notes: wrote the synposis with 1% of sleep in my body gn. and also, im using playoff pics from 3 years ago so let me be.

bengals

❤️ 96,551 💬 321

Liked by: yn.handle lahjay_10 and others

bengals: *gasp* joe burrow!

username_1: this man is NOT washed. 😭

username_2: joey b!

username_3: marry me username_4: the offer's probably off the table..

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yn.handle

❤️ 96,551 💬 321

Liked by: joeyb_9 yourbsf vogue skims and others

yn.handle: oops! did you guys miss me? im back on vogue's january magazine!

username_5: its monday, 8 am in the morning y/n.. please.

yourbsf: you did not 🤭 yn.handle: and did.

joeyb_9: that color looks good on you. yn.handle: better than orange??

username_6: hold up because why'd travis fumble.

username_7: he always does.

*load more comments*

yn.handle posted a story

caption: 📍pitt int airport

bengals

❤️ 57,001 💬 120

Liked by: nfl espn and others

bengals: 😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️

username_14: joe why are you even playing today..

username_15: who dey!

username_16: mvp!

*load more comments*

yn.handle posted a story

caption: 🏈

bengals

❤️ 94,536 💬 1,390

Liked by: yn.handle nfl espn and others

bengals: deep breath *exhale*

username_17: theres no way we almost lost.

username_18: somebody get joe more protection because what was that 4th quarter.

username_19: joe better not be injured for playoffs.

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nfl & bengals

❤️ 1m 💬 40,754

Liked by: espn yn.handle and others

nfl: for the first time since 2022, the bengals will reappear in the playoffs, and for the first time with a bye week.

username_20: past me would not believe this.

username_21: who dey!

username_22: frauds, chiefs shouldve been #1 username_23: pretty sure theyre gonna make cincy vs kc a game just for the rival.

*load more comments*

joeyb_9

❤️ 731,900 💬 3,124

Liked by: yn.handle lahjay_10 lsufootball bengals and others

joeyb_9: year 5 and counting.

username_24: shiesty going crazy in playoffs.

username_25: mvp him.

yn.handle: need that.

username_26: yn..

username_27: yn this isnt you.

*load more comments*

yn.handle

❤️ 104,246 💬 5,189

Liked by: yourbsf joeyb_9 and others

yn.handle: 🩷

yourbsf: the dress??

username_28: yn ate on x.

username_29: travis hasnt posted since, someone check up on him.

username_30: first wag to threepeat in the playoffs before the chiefs

joeyb_9: all mine ❤️ lahjay_10: we lost a real one 💔 yn.handle: always gotta ruin stuff 🖕🏾

username_31: joe its okay you can marry me instead yn.handle: you shouldve been 6 months earlier 🧐

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[liberty-barnes]

at your altar, i will pray

Singla Father!Arthur Leclerc x Deity!Female!Reader

Summary: Centuries after the old gods have long fallen out of modern worship, a little girl stumbles upon a well and prays to a mythical goddess for comfort.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of very light childhood bullying, mentions of child abandonment by arthur's baby mama, arthur has no idea what to do when faced with a goddess and decides to be stupid about it but he grows a brain eventually

Word Count: 4.3k words (oops)

Estimated Reading Time: 17 minutes

A/N: okay so I've been wanting to write this one for ages!! For those of you who don't know, I'm a Hellenic Polytheist (so I worship the old Greek gods) and I based my goddess version of (Y/n) off a mix of Persephone, Demeter, and (the first goddess I worshipped) Aphrodite! Hope you guys like this one <3

Masterlists | Formula One RI Masterlist | Taglist

Her temple had been empty for quite a while. It was practically in ruins. The old gods were all but forgotten these days, only mentioned every now and then in legends and myths, words tainted with scepticism. 

She stared at the well, the source of her power. Once majestic and radiant, it was now all but crumbling, covered in moss, the water contaminated with algae. The last offering it received had been decades ago, a young couple who had prayed to the universe for their love to last. They’d called it a ‘wishing well’, and the prayer was a joke more than anything. It hadn’t even been directed at her. But the coin they threw in was an offering nonetheless. For a moment, she felt some energy return to her. She’d blessed that couple and their offspring, but they hadn’t returned since.

It was hard to keep track of time, nowadays. It always is, for immortal beings, but it seemed to have only gotten worse. She could feel herself start to fade. After all, worship is a two-way street: what use is a deity if no one believes in them?

She stared at the little family of rabbits that had taken residence in her temple. What once were two majestic pillars had collapsed and created a little burrow, perfect for them to settle in and keep safe from the elements. She waved her hand, growing some dandelions for them to feed on. The kits were still young, barely a month old; it would be best for the mother not to have to stray far to have food. Even that small action felt exhausting to her. Once upon a time, she could turn acres of barren land into flowering fields without breaking a sweat. Now, a single patch of flowers made her eyes flutter in exhaustion.

She took a deep breath, trying to connect to the forest around her. It was getting harder and harder, but she refused to let it go. This forest was her home, it was the seat of her power; it was her duty and privilege to keep it safe.

A child’s soft cries made their way to her, carried by the wind. She could feel their life force, getting closer and closer, travelling through the trees. Her heart clenched in her chest. A child’s pain never lost its impact.

She hurried behind one of the few pillars left standing, casting a quick glamour on herself so she wouldn’t be seen. The world went dark for a little bit as the effort needed for the spell made her faint, but she blinked through it when she heard footsteps stop.

There was a little girl leaning on her well. Her hair was hastily pulled back into two blonde ponytails, although the left one was so low it might as well be a pigtail instead. Her face was red from the tears, and her pink dress was stained with mud. Upon closer inspection, there was also a stick in her hair. And some leaves. Was that a hazelnut shell?

The child looked around the bricks making up the well, brushing some of the dirt and moss off them, until she found the one she was looking for.

A young couple had carved their initials on that stone. The last ones to come into her temple. The last ones to make an offering to her.

She had spent hours staring at the crudely carved P + H surrounded by an uneven heart, tracing the lines with her fingers, wondering what had happened to the young couple she had blessed. Now, forty years later, a little blond girl was mirroring her very actions.

“Mamie told me about this well. She said that when she and Papie were young, they made a wish to stay together for the rest of their lives, and to have children and be very happy.”

Oh. This was their granddaughter. She could see the resemblance if she squinted. In the upturn of her mouth, the sweetness of her voice.

“It worked for them. Papie said it was a… a conci- a coinence- um-”

Coincidence, she whispered.

“A coincidence. But Mamie did some research. She found out that a long long time ago, this was a temple. It was built for a… um, a pagan goddess. I don’t know what pagan means… But she told me the stories. Her name was (Y/n). She was the goddess of love, beauty, spring and, um… there was another one. I can’t remember now. But Mamie always said that Lady (Y/n) kept us safe.”

She sighed, hearing those words, her eyes filling with tears. That woman had remembered her. She believed. Even if she hadn’t returned since that night, she still believed. Enough that she’d passed it on to her granddaughter.

“I wanna believe that you’re real, Lady (Y/n). But it’s hard. Papie’s not here anymore. Papa says he’s in heaven. Mamie says it’s got nothing to do with you, cause even you can’t stop death. But… But you’re supposed to be the goddess of love, too. And if you could make Mamie and Papie love each other forever then… Why couldn’t you make my Mommy love me too?”

(Y/n) wanted to run to her. Pull her close. Tell her that, for all her abilities, she couldn’t actually create love, only nurture what was already there. She wanted to apologise, for what, she wasn’t sure.

“I started the big kid school today. CP. I was really excited, you know. Papa says it’s where I’ll learn to read, write, and do maths. I like learning. And I was excited to make friends. But… Everyone at school talks about their mommies. And I don’t have one. I don’t even know what she looks like. Whenever I think of mom… Well, most of the time, I just think of you. I think it’s because Mamie’s told me so many stories. I don’t know. It’s weird.”

The little girl got up, both hands on the edge of the well, and she looked down at the murky water.

“I wanna have a mommy too. I wish you could be my mommy, Lady (Y/n).”

She cried. A tear fell from her eye into the well’s water, and (Y/n) felt her powers surge. And another. And another. She felt dizzy with it, the sudden revival of her senses, and she remained sitting, trying to breathe through the waves and waves of euphoric power. Through the light spots dancing in front of her eyes, she could see the little girl lay down at the base of the well, rest her head on her arms, tears still falling onto the ground, adding to her powers.

When the little girl’s tears stopped and she finally fell asleep, it still took a good ten minutes for (Y/n)’s body to stop shaking. Her very being was buzzing with power, mind reeling from the most powerful offering she’d received in millennia.

She rid herself of the glamour, walking closer to the little girl. A few wisps of hair had fallen in front of her eyes and she gently pushed them away. The stone she was lying on had to be uncomfortable. And her temple was in dire need of some tender loving care. Time to get to work.

—

By the time the little girl started to stir, the place had been completely refurbished. The stone pillars had been put together and raised once again, walls rebuilt, and she’d even modernised it a bit by adding stained glass skylights on the roof, the colours reflecting on the interior. Her well stood at the centre of the temple, now gleaming and once again filled with clear water, though the carved initials of that sweet couple remained. The little family of bunnies has been given a nice nest, with more than enough food and water. Flowers filled the room and hung down from the roof, covering parts of the wall and floor, leaving a wonderful aroma of springtime. 

(Y/n) walked over to the newly built bed, feather soft, and sat on the edge, running her hands through the little girl’s hair to fully rouse her out of sleep.

Her eyes fluttered open, green as the forest around them, but with some flecks of gold adding depth. It took a few seconds for the situation to sink in, for her to realise that she was actually awake and not dreaming.

“Good morning, my love.”

Actually, it was more like evening. The sun had started to set a few minutes ago, the golden hour shining through the skylights.

“Where am I?”

She sat up on the bed, looking around the temple.

“Why, you’re home.”

For some reason, the girl seemed confused at that.

“I don’t understand.”

(Y/n) smiled at her, gently brushing her fingers through her blonde hair, mussed up from sleep.

“You came into my temple and prayed for me. Your tears were the strongest offering I’ve received since the old gods were the norm. How could I refuse such a sweet prayer from my daughter?”

The smile she got in return was blinding, and she giggled as the little girl practically tackled her in a hug.

“I knew it! I knew you were real! I knew you’d come for me if I asked.”

“Of course I did, my little daffodil. I will always come to you when you ask.”

—-—

Arthur couldn’t explain what he was feeling. Anguish, panic, desperation, anger, depression, helplessness. All at once. How could he have been so stupid? He harshly pushed away the branches of the overgrown forest no one ever went into, but it was his last chance.

“Papa, why don’t I have a mommy like my friends?”

He knew he should’ve kept his mouth shut. Told a little white lie. She was seven years old. He should’ve known she wouldn’t take the news well.

“Um, well… It’s complicated, mon coeur. Your mommy, she just… She wasn’t ready to be a mom. So we decided that it would be best if you just stayed with me. But you don’t need a mommy, cause I love you enough for the two of us, okay?”

In hindsight, his speech was… Well, it was shit. He’d been blindsided, and when combined with the sleep deprivation of a weekend of racing with not nearly enough sleep… It was bad. When his daughter said she needed a moment, he’d assumed she’d simply walked the twenty meters to her grandmother’s house, right next door. She’d done it often enough, gone to his mother when she needed time to process things, or someone to talk it through with that wasn’t him. It never crossed his mind that she’d go anywhere else, she knew she wasn’t meant to. She was a good kid. She’d never broken a rule before.

But, five hours later, they still hadn’t found her. Arthur called his mother after a short hour of napping, asking if he should make dinner or if his daughter wanted to stay over for the night. But Pascale hadn’t seen her all day.

The forest was his last resort.

“I told her stories of a goddess that lived in that forest, and the well your father and I wished upon when we were young. She always loved to hear stories about Lady (Y/n). Maybe she went looking for it.”

It was stupid.

It was all he had left.

He breathed through the panic clawing at his chest, walking aimlessly around, hoping against all hope that some higher power or whatever would lead him to his daughter.

Please, she’s all I have.

There was a rough-looking path in front of him. Leaves flattened on the ground, flowers lining the sides. The branches were still overgrown but this seemed like his best chance. So he followed it. He didn’t know what to expect. But he sure as hell knew it wasn’t a temple that looked like it had materialised in the middle of the forest.

The walls were a gleaming ivory colour, with columns decorating it. Ivy climbed the walls, but it didn’t look like it had been left to grow on an abandoned building; it looked like it belonged there, like the vegetation served to connect the temple to nature around it. The sun gleamed off the rooftop, and the heavy door was closed. He walked up to it, took a deep breath, and pushed it open.

“Melina!”

He ran to her, pulled her off the stool she was sitting on, and hugged her to his chest. 

“Thank fuck you’re okay.”

Finally, he could breathe again.

“Papa, you said a bad word. Also, you’re ruining my hair.”

He pulled away, actually looking at her for the first time in five hours. He took in the way her hair was expertly braided, a flower crown on her head and little flowers littering her braided hair. She almost seemed to glow golden, and her outfit–

“Princesse, what happened to the dress Aunt Charlotte got you?”

What she was wearing was decidedly not the flowery pink dress his sister-in-law had bought her. It was white, in a fabric so delicate he couldn’t remember ever touching anything so soft, and it reminded him of a Greek chiton. Draped over it was a pink fabric, delicately embroidered with gold accents. The sandals on her feet were also unfamiliar to him. She looked straight out of one of the epic movies about ancient Greece his father had liked to watch.

“That dress was ruined, I’m afraid. Her little trek through the woods left the fabric torn and stained. Not to worry, I dressed her in more appropriate clothing.”

He turned his head, finally acknowledging the other woman in the temple. Had he been in his right mind, he would’ve noticed the faintly glowing aura around her, the way she carried herself with the grace and elegance of a superior being, the beauty in her every feature.

He was not, however, in his right mind.

“Who the fuck are you and what are you doing with my daughter?”

He saw her brows furrow, jaw clench, and eyes harden with barely concealed fury. For a moment, he could’ve sworn they shone red.

“I will forgive your insolence on account of your worry for Melina. But I ask that you refrain from treating me with such disrespect. This is my home, Arthur Leclerc.”

Had he been in his right mind, he would’ve apologised for his behaviour and rectified it immediately. 

As previously stated, however, he was not.

Truly, it was a miracle he was even alive.

“Melina, let’s go. We need to get back home and away from this woman.”

His daughter did not move, simply crossed her arms with a disappointed look in her eyes. The mystery woman’s eye twitched.

“Papa, you’re being a dummy.”

“She’s not going anywhere.”

The words were spoken at a low pitch, almost like a growl, and with such power, it felt like Arthur was being physically knocked back. Melina walked towards the woman, raising her arms. She didn’t even hesitate in lifting the little girl, setting her on her hip, kissing the side of her head.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the foggy feeling taking over his brain. 

“She’s my daughter.”

“And yet, she came to me. She prayed to me, made an offering upon my altar, and asked me to be her mother. I have claimed her, she’s mine now.”

He furrowed his brows, looking at her.

“Woman, what kind of mental instability do you have?”

His continued state of living was more than a miracle, actually. If there even is something above a miracle. 

Faster than he could blink, Melina was on the floor and pushed behind the mystery woman. Her hands glowed in front of her, eyes shining a violent red, and he felt vines rise from the floor and pull at his limbs, forcing him to his knees. A vine came around his throat, getting tighter and tighter, until he could no longer breathe.

“How dare you come into my temple and treat me with such disrespect, mortal? Do you know who I am? I am (Y/n), goddess of love, beauty, spring, and nurture. I give life, but that does not mean I cannot take it. Do not take my reticence to cause harm for an inability to do so. I should squash you like the bug you are for your insolence.”

“Maman, no!”

The vine around his throat untightened, and he took a desperate breath in, panting and coughing.

The woman– Lady (Y/n), he reminded himself –sighed, crouching in front of his daughter.

“I’m sorry, blossom, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Melina frowned.

“You can’t hurt Papa, Maman.”

She sighed, but nodded.

“Fine.”

The vines around his body retreated, and he felt his head go faint.

“You–”

Lady (Y/n) looked at him.

“Me?”

“You– Goddess? Real?”

She seemed disturbed by the fact he could not form proper sentences. Were he in his right mind, he would be too.

“I’m very much real, yes.”

“Oh, bordel.”

He vaguely felt the thud of his head hitting the ground, before it all went black.

—-—

(Y/n) looked at the man sprawled on the floor, unconscious, and raised her hands at her side.

“That wasn’t me, I didn’t do anything.”

Mother and daughter looked at the man with similar looks on their faces.

“Maybe we should get him to a bed?”

“Great idea, poppet.”

Neither moved.

“Are you gonna do it?”

“Oh, right, yeah, hold on.”

Vines burst from the floor, wrapped around his body, and lifted him up through the air, delicately transporting him to the bed Melina had been resting on earlier that day. (Y/n) picked up a stone bowl, filled it with water from the well, and dipped a soft cloth inside.

“Alright, come here, time to learn.”

Melina walked over to where she was now sitting on the edge of the bed.

“So, what did I tell you about the well?”

“It’s the source of your power,” she replied dutifully, “It’s where people make offerings to you so your power can grow and you can help better.”

She nodded with a smile.

“Exactly. Technically, offerings work anywhere, and especially anywhere in my temple, but offerings given to the well are always more powerful. But this also means that the water itself carries my power. Remember how I told you I was the goddess of nurture?”

Melina nodded.

“Remember what that means?”

She frowned, trying to remember.

“It means you take care of and protect people.”

“That’s right, good job, baby. This also means that because I’m supposed to care for and protect, I have healing powers.”

Her jaw dropped.

“You do?”

(Y/n) nodded.

“Not to Apollo’s extent, of course, my healing powers are only minor. It means I can’t heal really bad illnesses like cancer, or anything like that, but I can take care of a few scrapes and speed up healing if you have any broken bones.”

Under Melina’s watchful eyes, she dipped the cloth into the well water, then wrung it out.

“It also means that the water from my well can more or less mimic my powers. It makes flowers grow faster, for example. But in this case, it’s gonna help take care of your father.”

She delicately ran the wet cloth over Arthur’s face, full of scrapes from the tree branches, and over the already-forming bump on his forehead from where he facepalmed to the floor.

Melina gasped as the scrapes healed before her very eyes, disappearing within seconds as if they were never even there.

“You wanna try? He still has a good number of scratches on his arms.”

She nodded so fast (Y/n) was almost worried she’d give herself whiplash. She sat on her mother’s knees, taking the cloth from her hands.

“Alright, wet it in the water… there you go, now squeeze the excess out… great job, my love, now remember to be gentle.”

She slowly ran the cloth over her father’s eyes, squealing happily when the scratches disappeared, leaving blank skin in its wake.

They healed Arthur’s arms with a single-minded focus, both happy to be able to share this experience. Melina had never thought she’d get to learn from her own mother. (Y/n) had lost hope of having a child to pass on her knowledge to.

So focused were they on this experience that they never noticed when Arthur’s eyes fluttered open, and he took to watching them with a soft look on his face.

“All done, Maman.”

“Good job, lovely, you did so good.”

“Thank you.”

Both girls startled. (Y/n) fought the urge to curse herself for her lack of situational awareness. It seemed that a few centuries of feeling weak had left her unaware of the world around her.

Arthur cleared his throat, raising his body to lean against the pillows. His cheeks were a bit red and he seemed to be having trouble maintaining eye contact.

“I apologise for disrespecting you, Lady (Y/n), I was… clearly not in my right mind.”

Melina turned to her with big innocent eyes.

“Uncle Charlie says Papa’s got sawdust instead of a brain so it makes him act silly.”

“Uncle Charlie needs to shut his mouth.”

(Y/n) bit back a smile, enjoying the dynamic between the two. She saw a barely-there twitch run over Arthur’s face as he tried to find a more comfortable position.

“Are you still hurt?”

He looked up at her, cheeks getting redder.

“Oh, no, I’m alright, don’t worry. It’s just a bit of soreness in my back from the racing, nothing I’m not used to.”

She blinked at him.

“Racing?”

He blinked back.

“Um, yeah… I’m a Formula One driver. I’m a reserve driver for Ferrari and test the cars for them as well. This weekend, I had to replace one of the main drivers cause he got food poisoning, so now I’m just feeling the effects still.”

He was saying a lot of words, but she understood none of them.

“What’s a Formula One?”

He seemed taken aback by that, but smirked at her in a cheeky way.

“I thought gods were supposed to be omniscient, how do you not know what F1 is?”

She huffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Well, excuse me for being too busy fading to keep up with modern inventions! I haven’t had enough energy to care about what the world’s been up to since the 1940s, and even then, it was just because the war was so big that even my forest wasn’t safe from it.”

He winced, looking embarrassed at her answer.

“Right, sorry about that.”

She smiled at him dismissingly.

“Truth is, if Melina hadn’t found the well and made that offering… I don’t know how much longer I’d have lasted.”

Melina climbed onto her lap, nuzzling into her chest the way children do when they want comfort. (Y/n) couldn’t help but bring her arms around the little girl, holding her close to her chest.

“So, she saved you from fading and you decided you were gonna adopt her?”

She lifted an eyebrow at Arthur.

“I mean, in my defence, she did wish I could be her mother. It’s not like I took her against her will. She came to me, what was I supposed to do?”

She heard him mutter something under his breath about “cat distribution system” and “looking a bit different”, but she was too busy watching Melina’s eyes start to droop to notice.

“Tired, blossom?”

She nodded, yawning widely. 

“I should take her home. My family’s worried sick about her, we’ve been searching all afternoon.”

(Y/n) couldn’t help but hug the little girl tighter, not wanting to let her go.

“But… You guys just got here. I don’t want you to go.”

She bit back the sudden urge to cry, the panic clawing at her chest at the thought of being alone again, of feeling her power dwindle again, of starting to fade again.

Her temple answered her distress in kind, vines wrapping themselves around her legs in an attempt to comfort her, ivy crawling up the wall closest to her.

Arthur observed it all with a quiet intelligence in his eyes, not judging, simply trying to understand.

“Will you be here tomorrow?”

He asked, looking her in the eyes.

“In the temple? Of course. I rarely leave it. Don’t really have anywhere to go, or enough energy to, most of the time.”

He nodded.

“Alright. Then so will we.”

She drew in a sharp breath, fighting against the hope blossoming in her chest. 

“Lina has school in the morning, but as soon as she’s done, we’ll be here. I can bring some food and we can have a picnic. The weather’s looking nice for tomorrow.”

She searched his eyes for any hint of trickery. Dishonesty. 

“Do you really mean that?”

He nodded, resolute.

“We’ll be back tomorrow. I promise you.”

She felt her core shake, and the water in her well rippled.

“Arthur, you can’t just say that. I’m a goddess. A promise made to me is binding, breaking it… it carries serious consequences that even I won’t be able to stop.”

He shrugged, smiling at her in a boyish way. She couldn’t help but be drawn by the way his green eyes seemed to sparkle.

“I’d be worried if I didn’t intend to keep it. But nothing short of a natural disaster could keep us away.”

She breathed out. Humans were not known for their trustworthiness. But, tentatively, she allowed herself to believe. Maybe just this once.

Melina was already asleep by the time Arthur walked out the doors to the temple. The sky around them was dark, making the forest look almost pitch black, but (Y/n) conjured up a small ball of light, allowing it to lead the way so they could safely make it back home. 

Arthur looked back at her before fully disappearing, mouthing those same words again, cementing it.

I promise.

And that's that! Fun fact, Melina's name is inspired by Melinoë, a chtonich goddess and bringer of nightmares and madness, and daughter of Persephone.

Hope you guys liked it, don't forget to comment and reblog! My asks and DMs are always open

-Love, Miah<3

Formula One Reader Inserts

@aykxz98 @camelliaflow3r

[priintiisor]

hello i have no idea what to draw for today but the prompt is "echoes" so here!! have my echoes when they were alive designs that i ve been cooking up for like. a month at this point

i have no idea how ancients look but they are furries. to me.

(wall echo gets to be on the same photo as the downpour people because there s 10 of them total and having 6 in the first one and 4 in the second one annoys me- anyways)

also uhh i wrote a part of what they say next to most of them because i regularly forget which one of the echoes is which lol

be warned i rambled A LOT below

i have a lot of Thoughts about these guys because i am physically incapable of drawing a character without coming up with a bunch of lore for them- maybe i ll make another post with all my sketches of them (it s like half my sketchbook at this point) and tell you all my headcanons and worldbuilding that i pulled out of literally nowhere but for now here s some disjointed thoughts:

- generally i kind of tried to make their colors match the area they re in. though sometimes i just added stuff cuz i thought it looked cool

- chimney echo is my favorite echo so i designed them first and as such they ended up with the worst design. oops- i still love you chimney echo

- the details on these guys are sometimes meaningful and sometimes random shit i added lol, i m not very good at coming up with very detailed things

- yes some of them (most of them-) have bird legs and some of them have paws. i have Headcanons about the ancients. also in my head (and based on the karma paintings) they re covered in bandages and clothes are optional so. i tried to have fun with their clothes. yes some of them don t have pants. such is life

- they also have tails because I SAY SO

- farm arrays echo has no idea why they re here

- droplets has a fuckton of pearls because they deserve it

- oh yeah also i like to think (based on the fact that there s just random shit written on most of the white pearls) that these guys just carried pearls around to write down whatever they needed or with whatever information they needed to have on hand. i also had fun with hanging pearls off of them

- wall echo is Tall and Scary and he Scares me

- for the guys that i imagine would have lived after the iterators were built, i also drew their citizen drones because.. i always forget to draw sofanthiel and. justice for sofanthiel

- metropolis echo and bitter aerie echo have weapons because i like to think the anicents fought eachother, like for sport- metropolis echo because she s artificer in ancient form and bitter aerie echo because they re basically just a challenge and their dialogue is just "oh you actually got here, good job". idk it made sense in my head

- yes bitter aerie echo has a harpoon. that was my friends idea actually

- yes metropolis echo s drone is sofanthiel. i think it s funny. i told you she s just arti in ancient form to me

- 8 spots on a blind eye was born with really bad sight in one eye but they tell everyone they lost it in battle because that s cooler

- rhinestones beneath shattered glass is an insane cat lady and we love them

- yes some of them are related, yes the funny colored pieces of cloth have meaning, i WILL NOT get into it now

- pebble for scale <3 (i have my reasons to believe the ancients were giagantic. mostly the fact that their city is IMPOSSIBLE to get around without double jumps (see my post from 2 days ago) but also i just think it s cool. and really funny. i have no idea how they get through pipes)

thanks for reading my ramblings. reminder i could ramble more i ve been THINKING about these guys

[gothicfied]

I SLIT MY OWN THROAT JUST TO SEE IF YOU'D MOURN ME

Pairing: Héctor Fort x fem!reader, toxic situationship

Summary: While Héctor keeps you on your toes about your relationship, telling you that he loves you, amongst other things, he can't quite seem to commit to you. To him, it's all no-strings-attached, but you want more and you end up hurting your own feelings in the process.

Word Count: ~4.3k (oops, not again)

Reading Time: ~17 Minutes

Warnings: Slightly suggestive, mentions of sex and hooking up, mentions of alcohol and drinking, heavy swearing, Héctor turns into a real asshole at the end, he makes reader cry, reader knows something has to change but doesn't try to change anything, complicated mess of feelings on both sides, no hopeful ending, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

A/N: BOAHHHHH we lowkey gotta execute all of portugal rn. GERMANY WTF????? Wie kann man so eine BESCHISSENE PISS ZWEITE HALBZEIT SPIELEN🫩 I already kinda knew we were losing when I saw 3-4-3 and Waldemar Anton with Robin Koch in the defense. WE LET A GRANDPA SHOOT A GOAL WHAT IS WRONG WITH US (yes, Ronaldo is not my goat)???? This was finished in rage, so excuse any angry spelling mistakes, but we just lost in the most embarrassing way. Word Cup, here we come (we'll still win, of course)! On a diffrent note tho: It was really fun writing for Héctor. He's probably one of the prettiest men I've ever seen in my life. Also, I'm 100% sure he's a very sweet guy who wouldn't do something like in this fic lmao lmk if y'all want a part 2 with a happier ending! Inspiration for this was this song👇

Those beautiful eyes. Big, tantalizing, brown eyes that you seemed to get lost in every time you saw them. And, it didn't matter that you were just looking at a picture of him. You could stare at him for hours and not get bored of it. If he would let you.

You and Héctor met just a couple months ago in the streets of Barcelona. To be honest, you didn't know who he was — And he didn't expect you to. The minute he layed his eyes on you he knew you were perfect: Mostly because your biggest interest wasn't football. You were a fresh breeze in his life, finally someone who wasn't connected to his career. To you, though, it was probably the coolest thing to have a professional football player like you. Héctor is tall, talented, easy to talk to... You like the fact that he works out and surrounds himself with good people. His first impression was perfect, it was natural to fall in love with him.

If things could've stayed that way, you wouldn't be here right now. You'd be beside him, in his bed, looking at the real thing. As the situationship progressed, you realized that Héctor was different deep down. He wasn't this charming young man social media makes him out to be (because, of course, the first thing you did was stalk him on the internet to see what people had to say about him).

Soon enough, you took notice that he treats hou more like a side piece than a girl he's interested in. You're good enough to take out, mostly to parties, and for sex, but that was kind of it. Then, when you were back home, you'd watch tiktoks of fan interactions Héctor had and wondered why he didn't treat you with the same amount of respect.

There's phases of love bombing, meaning he'll send you flowers to your doorstep, invite you over to his house to cook together or buys you expensive things you wouldn't ask for, but those are followed by weeks of silence. Like right now. All you can do is stare at the screen, pictures of you two together and text messages from two days ago:

"You're so beautiful, mi amor."

"I want to take you to training with me."

"I love you."

He loves you. You hold onto those three little words for a long time.

...

"Oh my god, seriously, you need to get a grip girl." Your best friends voice rung out of your phone. "What do you mean?"

You were currently sitting at your vanity, getting ready for... something. You didn't know what it was yet, but something was telling you that Héctor would text you.

"What I mean? Are you crazy?" Calling Mia for advice on this situation always gave you a reality check. She'd never lie to you or coddle you and that's exactly what you needed. You wanted to not care about his attention so much, but it was like your body yearned for it. "That boy has you wrapped around his finger and he didn't even need to do anything." Carefully, you curled your eyelashes while listening to Mia go on and on about your situationship. "And still, he won't respect you."

"How is he not respecting me?"

"Girl..."

"What?"

"All this hanging out and hooking up and he still hasn't asked you to be his girlfriend? You know he meets up with other girls too, right?"

Of course you knew. Hearing that out of somebody else's mouth hit a bit too hard, though. You sighed and stared at yourself in the mirror, a weird feeling suddenly settling in your stomach. That was, until you heard a ping from your phone. With a gasp, you quickly grabbed it and heard Mia groan in annoyance on the other end of the line.

"I'll pick you up in 15, be ready."

"See, I told you he'd text!" You continued to do your makeup gingerly and all giggly. Even if your best friend didn't like what Héctor was doing with you and thought that you were a bit too naïve, she let it slide. This time. At no point you thought Mia was jealous of you, though. Other friends always made it sound like she was trying to get in between of your relationship with Héctor, mostly because he's a footballer bla bla bla, but, the truth is, you know. You know that the dynamic between you and the boy isn't ideal, you know that he's probably just toying with your feelings and you know that you should call this thing off. But you can't. And you won't.

Héctor, even if his feelings were bipolar towards you, never made you feel used. Whenever he's take you out to one of his friend's functions he'd introduce you properly and keep his arm around your waist. He made it all seem very normal and that was perhaps what made you so attached.

There's been nights where you cried yourself to sleep over rumors in your friendgroup about a new girl he's seeing or over the fact that he wouldn't text you. You'd never dare to double text, so if he left you on delivered, you were of course being petty. You ask yourself: Am I not good enough? What do other girls have that I don't? Why would he go for her and not me? What you didn't see was, that you were never the problem in the first place.

Teenage love is hard to swallow. Especially when considering that you both were almost 20. Mia thought this was highschool drama, but to you it was very real. Héctor would never deny your feelings whenever you opened up to him (which has happened like two times only), but he'd also never change. He gave you the feeling of being loved unconditionally. And it was addicting admittedly.

...

Like many times before in the last ten minutes, you were checking yourself out in your mirror. Mia had hung up just a few minutes before and your room felt cold and alone. Why were you sulking now? Did her words really hit home that close? You should be happy Héctor's coming over!

You were lying to yourself and you knew that. If only you could—

The sound of your doorbell ripped you out of your thoughts. The heavy feeling on your chest was lifted immediately when you grabbed your bag and ran down the stairs. Luckily, your parents were away for the weekend, which means if anything else would happen at your place...

Carefully, you opened the front door as to not seem so excited at Héctor's presence. Your eyes immediately fell to his hands which held a bouquet of your favorite flowers. He looked rather nonchalant about it, but the second his eyes found your face, they lit up like firework.

"Hey, princesa." He grinned as he called you the nickname, immediately pulling you in for a hug. His arms rested on your waist when he did so. It took you a moment to reciprocate the gesture, your hands resting on his chest. When pulling away, Héctor pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, which left you absolutely breathless... even though nothing had happened yet.

"These.. are your favorites, right?" Holding out the bouquet, you took it from his hands and grinned. "Yes.. yes they are. They're beautiful, thank you!" This wasn't anything new. After a long period of not meeting up, he's always have some sort of gift with him. Either your favorite snack, jewelry you mentioned liking before or, well, flowers. Héctor payed attention to detail, which made it harder for you to believe he didn't love you. There had to be something behind all of this, right?

On the way to your favorite stargazing spot, the footballer couldn't help but compliment you every minute.

"You look really pretty tonight."

"You've said that like five times by now."

"What? I can't compliment my girl no more?"

While you guys laughed about the situation, your brain couldn't help but replay Héctor's words in your mind. His girl. He called you his girl. If this wasn't a clear sign, then what is?

"I'm really sorry I couldn't make more time for you, by the way." Héctor sighed, absentmindedly skipping some songs on the playlist he put on. "Yeah, don't worry about it, I know you're busy." Obviously, you couldn't expect him to make time for you during the busiest time of the season. The last few games were on the horizon and you knew how important the sport was to him. "I shouldn't be too busy for you, tho! Like... ugh." You giggled at his frustration.

For the remainder of time, a comfortable silence settled between the two of you. You just watched him drive, which was really attractive in your mind. Héctor has called you his passenger princess before. Oh, seriously, how could this guy not be in love with you. It was almost impossible, especially with the way you put so much work into your appearance, or the way you behave around him (you know, not to seem so obsessed) and stuff. Unfortunately, you'd do anything for quiet moments like these as long as they're with him.

And a night out stargazing spot with Héctor always meant making out on the hood of his car.

...

Quietness. Warmth. Comfort. Those were all things you felt while laying next to him right now. Nothing happened tonight — Meaning no sex, that is. Héctor said, this wasn't the type of meet up for that. He wanted to savor the time he had with you tonight, that's all. He wanted to talk about everything, god and the world and maybe also why he's mad at the world right now.

It was natural to let him sleep over, especially when that meant he's hold you close while you slept. Héctor's arms around you always made you feel safe, like you didn't need anything else in the universe.

On one hand, it did make you extremely happy that this seemed to be more meaningful to him, on the other hand you didn't know why. You were suspicious... suspicious if he was feeling guilty about something and felt like he needed to make it up to you. Cheating, maybe. But, would it really be cheating if you weren't officially a thing? No, you had no right to call it that.

Héctors breath on your neck grounded you in reality again. Your hand was interlaced with his and all of this felt so domestic. The thing you were looking at on your phone cancelled all of that out in a minute. A mutual friend of yours and Héctor had sent you a screenshot of a snapchat story just 20 minutes ago.

Just as you had suspected, it was from a girl you didn't like anyway. She posted a picture with her on what seemed to be Héctor's lap. Oh, how much you wanted to beat the shit out of him right now. Perfect opportunity even: He's right beside you.

And then it hits you again.

You're not his girlfriend. What are you doing? Why are you so mad? He didn't cheat. He didn't do anything. It was in his right to pursue othrr girls but... wow, the things you'd do to be the only one. You bit down on your cheek to hold yourself back from crying as you just slid your phone under your pillow.

Héctor slightly shifted against you, making his presence apparent again. Your thoughts were half empty as you tried to make sense of the conversation you had earlier this night:

"Are you free on Saturday next week?" You turned your head to him and nodded, curious as to what Héctor had in mind this time. "Great, I want you as my plus one." Satisfied, he propped himself up with one arm and leaned down to press a chaste kiss on your lips. "What do you mean? Plus one to what?" He proceeded to explain how one of his guy friends was throwing this huge house party, but obviously it was still exclusive. Somehow boys in Barcelona seemed to be plugged in everywhere, because you did in fact also recognize the name of that friend. "Uhhh... okay, fine, I'll come." Instead of saying thank you, Héctor pressed another kiss on your lips, leaving you no time to kiss him back. "We'll have a good time, you'll see."

Aha, why didn't he ask one of his other girls then if he loves them so mu—

"Mhm.. princesa, are you okay?" The sudden rumbling of his voice startled you. Confused you turned your head around, to find Héctor, half awake, already staring at you. "Yes? Why? Are you okay?" You whispered back. The boy yawned in response and nodded, looking like he was about to fall asleep again. "Yeah.. you just... squeezed my hand so hard, I thought you wanted me to wake up." Aaaaand he was knocked out again.

With an irritated look on your face, you turned your head back. Did you actually get this frustrated? You must've.

Great, it's like you're digging your own grave here. You thought tonight would be a good night out, but now it seems to settle in your mind that this was in no way healthy. You should talk to him.. no, you needed to talk. It was long overdue and you knew it.

...

The next morning, you didn't really want to be mad at him anymore. Especially not when he woke you up by kissing you down your neck.

On monday, you also didn't have the mental capacity to call Héctor or text him that you needed to talk with him or that you didn't want to go to that party on Saturday.

Same thing on Tuesday, just then he had facetimed you, which seemed to make all your worries go away.

On Wednesday, you just said fuck it, and you went with. Maybe, if you didn't go, you'd ruin an opportunity for him to ask you to be his girlfriend. It definitely felt like an appropriate timing, like afterwards when leaving the party. And, if it didn't happen, you could make new friends, get yourself drunk and pick out a new guy to like. And that wouldn't be cheating, just like how him letting another girl onto his lap isn't cheating either.

After another, for you depressing, phone call with Mia and a few other things to do with studying and worrying about other things for once, Saturday rolls around. Héctor comes by fairly early just to see you get ready. He says it's one of his favorite things, especially because he gets to have a say in what you'll wear. Sometimes he wants it matching, too.

In a slightly uncomfortable way, most likely because of his presence which had never happened before, you pull at the dress you decided to put on — Short, not at all classy and defining all in one. Quickly, you stole a glance at the guy on your bed, watching him tap away at his phone through the mirror. You squinted, trying to make out who he was texting through his mimics. Eventually, Héctor just sighed and put his phone away, his eyes coming to rest on you.

"It's like you're doing it on purpose." Héctor said with a grin and slowly stood up from your bed. You basically felt the way he dragged his eyes over your body, a slight feeling of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks. You moved your gaze to your feet as you started feeling shy or some weird emotion you couldn't really register at all. It has never been like this before, so why are you sweating now?

"What am I doing on purpose?"

"Oh come on now."

You felt his hands come to rest on your hips, slowly dragging themselves over your ass and thighs. He was just eagerly watching your reaction in the mirror without a care in the world. "Hm? Ready to go?"

The minute you stepped into that place, you werr reminded why you didn't want to come in the first place. It's loud, filled with people you don't know and frankly don't want to know, and the smell of strong liquor, sweat and maybe other bodily fluids was in the air. Héctor haphazardly held your hand while dragging you through a crowd of people, trying to get to his friend. You felt watched, exposed and most definitely judged, even though most people were probably just doing their own thing. Or were staring at him and not at you.

"Hey, there you are!" You turned your head back to your date and the guy he was apparently invited in. Without so much as a "Hello" or "How are you?", he went in for a full hug to greet you. And when you tried shooting Héctor a look, he was already gone, off to somewhere else. Great. Now you were stuck with the host who doesn't know how to respect other's boundaries and his friends who are looking at you like they've never seen a woman before.

Twenty-or-so minutes later, you had randomly joined a mixed group of guys and girls who had dragged you in with the question "Oh my god, didn't you arrive with Héctor?" The drink in your hand was a badly mixed blend of what seemed to be cheap Vodka and Lemonade. Whoever made this must've been drunk out of their mind, but you started to get used to it the more you sipped to forget all that around you. You had gone completely non-verbal, another guy next to you was trying to flirt with you and one particular girl out of the bunch didn't seem to like this at all.

"And, you know, you're like the prettiest girl here, sooooo..." Matteo, the guy next to you, said waiting on a response from you. Apparently the appreciative nod you gave him was not enough, because he repeated himself again, trying to get just something out of you by placing his hand on your thigh. Quickly, you slapped it away with a serious expression this time: "Hey! None of that. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Matteo, a guy who had probably never gotten rejected in his life, was appalled. You couldn't care less, which he gathered by the way you rolled your eyes at him and continued to scan the area for Hèctor. "The fuck is your problem?" He sounded entitled when asking. "I'm just complimenting you. Don't you wanna have a good time? Jesus, women.."

You tried tuning him out by concentrating on the music rather his stupid voice, but it was hard ignoring this idiot who wouldn't stop speculating why you weren't interested. And then he blames it on women? You should've left the minute Héctor left you alone in this mess.

He was probably off somewhere with another girl, having the time of his life while you're stuck here with people who won't even talk to you. Except for Matteo, of course. Why be his stupid plus one of he was going to leave you anyway? What was the point of brining you here? In the end, you were stupid enough to even agree to this.

"Wait.. Are you his girlfriend?"

"Who's girlfriend?"

"Héctors! That's why you don't want me.. Man, sorry, I didn't know you guys were a thing now."

What and absolute idiot. But, the situation resolved itself. You just nodded and agreed, apologzing even for "not being available" or some bullshit. This, of course, made the others in the group listen up, too. Immediately, the girl next to you grabbed you by your shoulder and slightly shook you. "Holy shit! You're his girlfriend!"

Eventually, while you were getting knotted up in all the lies you tried to come up with to back this thing now, Matteo removed himself from the situation, making his rounds for a new drink and possibly a new girl to harass. This got interrupted, though, when he spotted your alleged boyfriend in the kitchen.

"Héctor."

"Matteo."

The latter got himself some water from the sink and drank it faster than he needed to.

"Dude, so sorry, I just tried hitting on your girlfriend. I wasn't trying to start anything so if she mentions that to you, just know I didn't mean it."

Héctor looked at him like he just said the stupidest thing in the world. He sniffled slightly and squinted his eyes, like that was going to help him understand this situation. "What do you mean my girlfriend?" Matteo seemed oblivious or simply too drunk to notice. "Huh? Yeah, the girl you left there."

"And.. she said she's my girlfriend? Only to you, or?" Héctor evidently got more and more irritated by this interaction and the information he had just attained. "No? She openly said you're her boyfriend. Aren't you? Like, bro, I really didn't mean to hit on her." No. You couldn't. Right? Why on earth would you? He thought you knew this was casual— What is your problem?

After a minute of angry silence, Héctor abandoned his drink by the other empty cups on the counter and made a beeline to you. "Awww, how cute! Can't believe you guys have been going steady now! I didn't even kno—" This... very challenging conversation with the girls in the group was suddenly interrupted by Héctor grabbing your arm. Not in a forceful way, but definitely in a determined one. Yeah, determined to get you out of here. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt you," Héctor mumbled out, "but I need her for a moment."

The young footballer took the liberty to drag you all the way outside to his car, the cold wind of the night hitting you in the face pretty ungracefully. "Would you just tell me what's going on? Héctor?" And he wouldn't respond. He had wrapped his hand tightly around your wrist, shaking his head no everytime you asked him something. Eventually, when he reached for his car keys, you ripped your arm away from him: "What's wrong? What the fuck? That hurt, dude!"

"Get in." Héctor looked at you like you had just killed someone. "What?" You weren't going to lie, you were kind of scared of this now. "Get. In. I'm driving you home. This was a bad idea."

...

The whole car ride was quiet and cold. Not only would Héctor not talk to you, but he wouldn't even do anything to make this more bearable. Slowly, you realized that you had probably fucked it all up with this lie you came up with. To your defense: You needed it to get rid of Matteo and all the other guys trying to hit on you. But, Héctor didn't know that and you weren't ready to start this conversation just yet.

Without you realizing, he had pulled into your drive way and put the car in park. "Why are you telling others that you're my girlfriend?" Oh yeah. This was it, wasn't it? "Look, I had to okay? These guys wouldn't leave me alone and I just—"

"No. No! You.. you can't just go around and say stuff like that! Are you actually mental?" Héctor gradually raised his voice at you, which madr you shudder. Slowly, you turned your head in his direction, finding him already staring you down. His eyes were filled with an emotion you had never seen him with before. Especially not directed against you. "You have to be one crazy fucking woman to do that. I am not your boyfriend, okay? You should've just come to me.. god." You bit down on your cheek while he was clearly struggling to find words for this.

"Do you know what others will believe now? Huh? Do you know how fast this shit can spread? Huh? No! No you don't." Yes you did. You kept quiet as Héctor continued to yell at you about how this will effect rumors again, how this will make fan girls bring hell onto you and so on. You didn't care. The only thing you cared about was how he yelled at you. You heard you heart shatter into a million tiny pieces.

After a few minutes, you couldn't hold it in anymore: "Oh my god! Stop! Genuinely stop!" Héctor did stop, looking at you in an offended way. "Why can't you just be my boyfriend? Do you know how long you've been basically playing with me?" You yelling back at him with this sentiment only made him laugh. In frustration, sure, but he could already feel his blood boil at the choice of your words. "Nah, you can't be serious. Playing with you? I thought you knew what kind of thing this was!"

"Not until you said you loved me! Who does that to a person?" Your voice cracked when asking him that question. For months you've been dying to ask Héctor exactly this and now you know he wouldn't take you seriously. "You should've known this was casual! You know I go out with other girls, why can't you just leave things as they are! Now what will they think of me? As some kind of cheater?"

Tears started prickling down your face, quiet sobbing filling the dreaded silence. Héctor looked at you with a more remorseful expression, but still didn't do anything to comfort you. His head was reeling, as was yours.

You just unbuckled your seatbelt and bolted out of his car, slamming the door shut. You didn't look back, you didn't want to and you didn't need to. And Héctor just watched you go inside, back home again without stopping you, even though you really wanted him to.

You wanted him to realize what he did and come running to your front door to stop you, to hug you, to comfort you.

But those are all things you cannot expect from an immature teenager who doesn't even know when to correctly use the words "I love you".

[shookuna]

// HEATWAVE! // T FUSHIGURO

a/n: first post on tha new blog !!! eeee !!! this is dedicated to the lovely mickey @teddybeartoji <3 ty for being my FIRST OFFICIAL MOOT ! MY DAYONE ! take a lil soft!toji fic pls and thank u 🤲

wc: ~ 1k oops

summary: tired grumpy bf!toji is needy and annoying w/o cuddles. cw: nsf(w) ment, plus some tooth-rotting fluff <3

cuddling with toji was becoming a rare occurrence.

it was mid-july and swelteringly hot outside, even in the wee hours of the night. the a/c in your shared apartment was threatening to give out, and the shitty fan toji sloppily assembled did little to improve matters. so, deviating from your usual routine, you and toji fell asleep on opposite sides of the bed.

toji noticed the distance immediately, cracking one eye open to find you not curled into his side, like usual. the sight of you dead to the world, hair messily splayed across the pillow was enough to make his heart flutter. but even still, a frown tugged at the corner of his lips.

because goddammit, you did not get him used to this "cuddling" shit just to bail on him now.

you and toji met months ago at the dawn of fall, when the days were getting shorter and the nights were growing colder. your relationship was initially a fateful coincidence, a grocery store meet-cute that was as romantic as it was awkward. his series of brazen pick-up lines went right over your head (surely, you assumed, no one would tell you how good you'd look receiving backshots in the fucking frozen food aisle) but you still ended up giving toji your number that day.

and he's never been a religious man, but he was praising every god in the damn sky that you did.

one date was all it took for both of you to be locked in. he was a bad habit, an itch you couldn't help but scratch, irresistible. he was reckless, cocky at best and an asshole at worst, everything you weren't. needless to say, dating toji was against your better judgment. but for him, being with you was the first good decision he's made in a long time.

that's not to say things were perfect, or even easy. being with someone like you was so unfamiliar for someone like toji. loving you came as easy as breathing, but choosing you, choosing to work towards being a better version of himself... that was hard as shit. even small things took time, like physical intimacy. his body count was through the roof, so he had no issue when it came to having sex with you - but affection was a whole different story. it made him feel like he was in someone else's skin, someone weaker, someone who needed to be taken care of. it took til' mid-december, when the temperatures were practically sub-zero and frost crusted the ground, to get toji to warm up (no pun intended) to cuddling.

and now you'd gone and gotten him attached to this shit just to leave him high and dry?!

it didn't matter that your boyfriend was practically a walking furnace, heat radiating off of him in waves when he caged you in his strong arms. temperature be damned, toji thought, you started this, so you had to finish it.

"wake up." his gruff voice sounded out, a stark departure from the blanket of silence the night offered. when you only stirred slightly, he gave you a little shake. "oi, get y'r ass up. i'm talkin t' you."

at that firmer command, you rose your head, a displeased frown taking the place of your previous serene expression. "fushiguro, what in the ever-loving fuck are you doing waking me up at..." you paused, fumbling for your phone on the nightstand and checking the time. "...at three in the damn morning."

"don't gimme that shit. girl bye," toji grumbled, not sparing you so much as an apology for disturbing your sleep. you simply gave him a deadpan stare, making him scoff and roll over to his other side. "'s fine, not like i needed to hold ya to fall asleep anyway." he muttered bitterly into the pillow.

your eyes were already halfway closed when he turned around, but they immediately shot open when you heard his grumblings.

"what did you say? you need to cuddle me to fall asleep?" you perk up, pressing your hands on his shoulders to coax him into turning back around.

"i sure as hell didn't say 'cuddle'," he groused, but still turned around anyways. his voice might have sounded annoyed, but you knew your toji. the flicker of warmth in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

"heh, you said it just now, dummy." you grinned as you snuggled up to toji's chest, earning a flick to your forehead from the man in question. but you were unbothered, simply humming, "thought ya didn't like cuddling."

"y'r makin' assumptions," toji grumbled, the low, gravelly timbre of his voice sending shivers down your spine. "now quiet down so i can sleep."

at that, you scoffed in playful offense. "so you can sleep? you literally just woke me u-" you started, but he silenced effortlessly by pressing his lips against yours in a lazy, heated kiss.

when he pulled away, chest heaving with each hot puff of air, you were warm from way more than just the heat outside.

"go the fuck to sleep before i put you to sleep myself." he growled out, but there was no malice in his words - more of an invitation than a threat.

deciding to resist temptation this time, you settled back into his hold, your back flush against his chest. as you began to fade back into sleep, you heard toji whisper out, "meant what i said, y'know that? can't... can't sleep w' out you now."

the next words out of your mouth were simple, but they were all it took to put him at ease.

"i know, toji."

dawww <33 hope u like this fic everyone (esp mickey mwah mwah mwah) reblogs + comments appreciated !!

© shookuna ! toji header edited by me too tehe

[nyaagolor]

How do you rank the prosecutors on order of homophobia

forgot about this in my drafts for literally months oops. Anyway. Finished now!!!!

So I made this post a while ago that has some of the prosecutors and antagonists, but if you want a ranking of EVERY prosecutor (not including DGS bc i haven't finished yet) huzzah!!

Simon Blackquill: Not actually homophobic but he gets points docked for siccing Taka (known homophobe) at Klavier (known bisexual) for stealing his pretzels from the office pantry that one time. 3/10

Blaise Debeste: I think he's gay but he made me look at that ugly ass beard for far too long and I consider that disrespectful. out of principle? 8/10

Sebastian Debeste: Just look at him. 0/10

Miles Edgeworth: Bratworth was simultaneously gay, homophobic, and a misogynist, and eventually develops into a man who is only like 1.5 of those things. he's getting better. 5/10

Byrne Faraday: I don't really think he cares much about gay people he's busy being a single father and stealing shit. For the apathy? 2/10

Klavier Gavin: He's extremely gay and does a lot of work for the gay community but making Ema Skye deal with him is explicitly lesbophobic so 4/10

Godot: He has a lovely wife but whatever he was doing with Ron DeLite was probably not osha-compliant. I don't know what that means for his sexuality or stance on gay people and neither does he. ?/10

Ga'ran: I think she has a lot of other problems she should deal with first but considered she's bigoted to defense attorneys I don't think her being homophobic would be that out of pocket. Not sure I want to find out. 7/10

Neil Marshall: Have you ever been a gay bar? This guy would do NUMBERS. Also, real cowboys support gay rights. 0/10

Gaspen Payne: Being homophobic is actually why he got fired by the prosecutor's office and Winston is really fucking embarrassed about it. 10/10

Winston Payne: You'd think he'd be homophobic but you can't work for the Japanifornia Prosecutor's Office and hate gay people or you would actually go insane. He's like that one suburban guy who uses terms from the 60s but has the spirit. However, his ally lapel pin is really ugly so 3/10

Jaques Portman: He was calling Edgeworth slurs even before realizing he was gay. 9/10

Lana Skye: Dated Mia in college but refused to explain that to Ema because she has a lot of internalized homophobia and other weird issues of self. Repressed yuri personified. 1/10

Nahyuta Sahdmadhi: He supports gay people but gets all his talking points from the internet so even though he's supportive he's also incredibly fucking annoying about it and no one wants to invite him to brunch because of it. Stop using twitter for fact-checking you jackass. 2/10

Franziska Von Karma: Despite the fact that her lesbianism is so strong it borders on misandry, I think she has a lot of internalized homophobia so she spends the first 25 years of her life being a judgmental little shit. She'll get better dw about it. I believe she can bring that number down with time. 6/10

Manfred Von Karma: I think when he finds out Edgeworth is gay he starts going to gay bars and picking up dudes just to show Edgeworth he has way more rizz than him. Considering how people in my notes have told me on numerous occasions how much they want him carnally, I think he could actually pull it off. In that respect I think he's done a lot for the gay community. It ends up cancelling out somewhat because I think he'd be kind of an ass about it. 4/10