#i hate to sleep and i think its a waste of time actually

[yunjitsu]

I refuse to do my thesis because VR Levi needs to be sketched immediately right here and now and I don't care about the consequences 💀

[uinferno]

To be a Hater, you must go at it alone. You must be known as "the guy who hates XYZ" in your friend group. If everyone in that group falls under that umbrella, then you've got yourself a crab bucket. Not even in a "getting help" sense, you'll just feed off each other in an endless cycle wasting too much of your time until that's all you ever talk about.

If you've ever seen subreddits dedicated to venting/problems or being critical of something, you'll understand why. Normal people say their piece and move on. They won't stick around for long. However, in order for those subs to be maintained and its community to remain active, you need to have regulars keeping the ball rolling. When that happens day in and day out with no breaks, that's just a downwards spiral, mister.

Ranting to friends who don't actually give a shit is key. Their zen attitude grounds you back to reality, and your disdain for shit that doesn't matter is amusing from the sidelines. For me: One friend is "the one who hates Fourth Wing." Another is "the one who hates Danganronpa." I'm "the guy who hates Legend of Korra." We all have our own niche, and by maintaining a variety of haters who don't all agree, we cultivate a welcoming environment of complaining.

[brightdeadthing]

.

[nochepsicodelica]

NSFW

Just some thoughts of you and Toji sharing a hotel room with Shiu when you go on a trip. There are two beds, you and Toji share one, and Shiu gets the other one to his mopey self, because his wife won't be there until the next day. He gets to warm the bed up on his own and he hates every minute of it, because one: he's third wheeling you and Toji, and two: you and Toji act as if he's not there when it's time to go to sleep.

"Why aren't you sleeping, pretty girl? Do I need to go down there and put you to sleep or what?" Toji murmurs.

You giggle, quietly. "Maybe. I do get pretty tired after you make me cum."

"Yeah, you do," he says, proudly. "You wet, right now, mama?" Toji asks, already unknotting the drawstrings of your shorts.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" You say, your voice too soft for what you're inviting him to do. Still, Toji bites and leans in to kiss you as his hand slides down the front of your shorts and beneath your panties. His hand meets your pelvis and continues its downward path, until his fingertips reach the messiness of your slick-ridden cunt. He teases you with barely there flicks of his fingers to your clit.

Shiu's eyes widen the slightest bit, before his eyebrows furrow. He swears he just heard a moan coming from the bundle of blankets on the right side of the room.

"Stop touching each other," he says, irritation heavy in his tone. "Jesus," he grumbles. The one time he didn't bring his headphones, the one time his wife isn't there to let him do the same things to her, that Toji is doing to you. And you both just continue to ignore him.

Your hand comes down to palm at the prominent bulge in Toji's boxers. You can feel his clothed cock twitching in your hand after every gentle squeeze you offer to the thick length.

"Fuck, don't tease me like that, doll. Touch it." His body jerks slightly when you slide your hand down his boxers and wrap it around his sticky length. "Shit, your hands are freezing," he whispers, hissing at the coldness that meets his warm skin.

"You want me to keep going or not?" You ask, teasingly, not stopping the movement of your hand as you wait for him to respond.

"Nah, nah, you're getting warmer. Keep going."

You both think you're doing so well at muffling each other's sounds of pleasure with deep kisses, but the sounds of heavier breathing and constantly rustling sheets in the otherwise steady room, are a dead giveaway to your indecent acts. Shiu has to choose between suffering by being uncomfortably hot with the blanket bundled around his head to shut out the sounds, or being comfortable and suffering with the clear sounds of your sexual antics.

"Shh," Toji hushes, when you let out a little whimper. "Just keep kissing me."

Despite how intense the sensations are, you both keep going. Toji's fingers don't stop rubbing your clit, and your hand doesn't stop gliding up and down his cock. You're both treating the act of sharing a bed as you usually do when you're alone, despite the poor man trying to sleep one bed over.

It takes hearing an uncontained high pitched gasp for Shiu to kick off his blanket and jump out of bed with a grumble. He grabs his car keys off the table and puts on his slippers, directing himself towards the door. "Going to the store. You two better be done by the time I come back."

The second the heavy door shuts, clothes are being pulled at through impatient, all consuming kisses. It gets to the point where you actually have to slow down to get them off, because you aren't making any progress, but once it's all discarded of, absolutely no time is wasted. Your legs find refuge hooked over Toji's shoulders, and his hands home to your hips and your waist. You both freely make as much noise as you want as you indulge in each other like you really are home alone. Minutes unknowingly turned into an hour and after four intense orgasms, you've tired each other out. Toji gets out of bed to grab a towel to clean you and himself up, and once the cleanup process is done, both of you fall asleep, soundly.

Shiu comes back half an hour after you both fell asleep. He's empty handed, looking a little more disheveled than when he left the room, because "going to the store" was code for sitting in his car and having phone sex with his wife. He tip toes further into the room to see if you and Toji are sleeping, and when he sees the way Toji is spooning you with his face pressed to the nape of your neck, and the way your hand rests on the arm he has slinged around your waist, he shakes his head and lets out a small chuckle.

"Rabbits."

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hey I saw your post and honestly this is my first time making a request. How about arcane characters with a cat like reader? Idk it's just a thought that came (sorry if that's a bit weird)

Dunno whether this answers your request like you imagined. Also probs shit fire time writing for some of these characters.

Viktor found your cat like personality quite interesting and humorous if he wasn’t within the lab, working with things that normally didn’t capture your interest, unless they glowed of course.

Other than that it felt as though you were intentionally acting up in his lab for a reaction, like a cat would gauge the reactions of their owners before pushing a glass off the table. That’s how Viktor often felt with you

Then he has to keep an eye on you to make sure you didn’t touch anything dangerous because you were captivated by its light.

‘No, it’s dangerous and could hurt you my dear.’ He so often warms you as he guides your hand away when he felt it was dangerously close to what he was working with. Your mind didn’t head his warning, only the fact that there was a shinny object in the laboratory and it was the only thing you could focus on.

‘If so dangerous, why is it shining as though it wants me to touch it then?’ You responded, daring to touch the object once more and Viktor swore you either knew what you were doing and playing him for a fool, or you had no self preservation skills within your entire body to fight back against your urge to touch a dangerous foreign object.

It’s literally a stand still between the two of you and one that happens far too often that Viktor knows that this was all part of your plan, and unfortunately for him he falls for it almost always. He watches you while you watch him before doing something rash, making think you’ve actually touched the dangerous object, only to look at you unamused when you smiled at him mischievously as you wiggled your unharmed fingers at him.

This often leads you to being banned from the lab for pulling a stunt like that, however this was more for your safety and for him to calm his racing heart. You’ll kill this poor man with your antics but he wouldn’t want you any other way, especially when you cuddled up to him for warmth and sleep there.

It soothes him just as much as it soothes you.

Ekko found himself often wondering where it was you went sometimes.

He sees you in once place and then you disappear the next, returning to base only when you felt it necessary of you to do so, illusive and vague of where you’ve been it was often a bit frustrating. You could’ve been in serious danger for all he was aware and when he confronts you about this behaviour of yours, you’d only shrug and say:

‘Where it is a go on my own time isn’t something you should waste time worrying over.’ Before leaving to go elsewhere within the base and lounge against one of the trees thick and sturdy branches, eyes closed in content as you softly drift off into a light nap.

How the fuck you got up there, he’ll never know other than the fact that you managed to get up there in the first place with effortless ease.

Ekko’s nickname for you was either kitty or something along the lines of a cat based pun. You hated all of them equally but Ekko only feels more vindicated when you only proven his perception of you right whenever you displayed a trait that was common amongst cats. Whether that’d be silently judging everyone from your perch way up high, or lounging in his bed, more specifically where he had laid moments prior, feeding off of the warmth that lingered there or otherwise Ekko would find humour in you cat like traits because they were the things he loved the most.

(In a timeline where they actually have phones I can imagine him sending you cat memes and saying ‘this you?’ Or ‘I found your relative’ he thinks he’s funny, and he is but you won’t admit it out of petty pride)

However the one thing that you could always hold over Ekko’s head was the fact that you could silently manoeuvre your way into a room without him knowing and managing to catch him off guard. Ekko didn’t find it particularly funny but he lets up eventually and admits that it was kinda funny that you managed to take him by surprise. This was why you were more suited to missions heavily requiring a person with an abundance of stealth and agility.

‘Always landing on your feet aren’t you?’ He’d tease but you would let it slid as you shrugged your shoulders and reply. ‘What can I say? It kinda comes with the territory don’t you think?’

‘You sure you weren’t a cat in your past life or something?’ She would ask as she raised a brow at you as you cuddled into her side, much like a cat would when in they wanted to leech off is the warmth of a human.

‘No, why you ask?’ You say as you began to close your eyes, her warmth blanketing you almost immediately, and becoming increasingly sleepy.

‘You act like one for starters with how lazy you are.’ She pointed out and you’d only scoff at her, resting your head on her shoulder, having become too comfortable with your current position to even be bothered to move.

‘I’m not lazy, I’m merely taking advantage of the beauty that is power naps.’ You defend yourself and it was Sevika’s turn to scoff, having heard this excuse countless times before, and it never stopped her from continuing to compare your personality to that of a common house cat.

She disliked it at first, finding it weird and annoying at the fact that you didn’t seem all that bothered with the ongoings of Zaun, instead favouring to rest in high places that provided warmth or close to it and watching everyone with clear judgement within your eyes. However that judgment did end up saving her from time to time, not that she’d ever admit to this, as she was confident in her own abilities to smell a bitch from a mile away.

Though the more as time passed she grew to find it somewhat easier to deal with, though you cuddling up to her for warmth did put her off now and then, affection wasn’t commonplace in Zaun; so forgive her for not exactly taking to it immediately. Though each time you did cuddle into her side, her urge to create distance between you dwindled, from Perivale shoving you away from her, to slowly accepting that this was her life now.

‘Sure, that’s a hell of a way to avoid saying that you’re lazy.’ Sevika smirks when you glared at her, clearly insulted by this, before moving off of her to go rest elsewhere on the bed you shared and making sure your back was towards her in an effort to show your disagreement with her statement. ‘Not. Lazy. I just like napping.’ You retorted.

‘Yeah, sure keep telling yourself that, I’m sure it’ll be true one day.’ Sevika jokes and your shoulders only deflate more, knowing you’ll never win this war with Sevika when her mind is made up. She’s always in the right in most cases.

Mel is all too familiar with your cat like traits that nothing you do is out of the ordinary to her.

She finds humour and amusement in you participating in things commonly associated with felines. A human cat is what you were in her eyes as you slept the easiest you’ve ever slept when besides her, her presence was calming and was more then enough to have you reduced to a relaxed state before succumbing to sleep.

She just had that effect on you and you loved it as much as she does as she got to run her hand down your back.

‘You’re practically purring.’ She teases.

‘It’s not my fault you know exactly what makes me melt.’ You replied as you smiled up at her, never having gotten use to having this absolute goddess of a woman bless you with her smile, her heart, her everything.

Mel smiles softly. ‘You don’t exactly made it much of a challenge.’ She says as she watched the way you practically leaned in towards her touch, eyes closed in content with a smile spread across your face that she swore your nonexistent tail would be swishing from side to side. She has been in this position countless times before and yet it never gets old with how content she felt when moments like these between you and her freely exist within her mind.

You don’t exactly make it hard for her not to love you like she did, it came to you as easy a breathing as that’s how quick you were to fall for her, almost as if it was as though you were breathing; Easy, effortlessly and natural.

‘How can I when you read me so effortlessly and without fail?’ You replied back in almost a purr, a mischievous smile spread wide across your lips, ‘I shouldn’t need to hide myself from my lovers eyes, for she knows me all too well.’ You add. Another thing Mel adored was your cunning but cautious mind and the way you seemed oddly too relaxed for some, watching those very same individuals like they were merely mouses that squeaked about their freedom; like you were being amused by rather was being said in meetings as though you knew something they didn’t.

You were like the Cheshire Cat, often times speaking in riddles that only she herself understands.

Mel kisses the tip of your nose. ‘You smile like the cat that caught the canary,’ she says as she pulls away. ‘Learning more about you is more interesting and intriguing than the last.’

‘Then I hope I stay that way for a long while.’ You said, smirking when you felt her kiss your lips.

[sturnswiftie]

boxer!matt isn't good at grand, romantic gestures but...

he does want to do something special for sunshine!reader on valentines day.

he wakes up early, which isn’t outside of his typical routine, and decides he isn’t wasting any time today. as soon as he’s done slipping into some sweatpants and a worn hoodie, he’s pressing a quiet kiss to the top of your head before heading out into the bite of the winter morning to pick up your favorite pastries that you always gush about but rarely ever get just because you don’t wake up early enough to actually go get them. he makes sure to leave them on the counter before heading for the gym, leaving you to wake up to the treat with a small note sitting on top of the box—figured these were better than chocolates for breakfast. happy valentine’s day.

but the real plan for the cash-grab holiday he usually loathes is what he has waiting for you once you return to his apartment for the night. matt makes sure to pick up takeout from your favorite restaurant since he hates crowded places, sets out some candles (begrudgingly, after you once mentioned how much you love “a little ambience” or whatever the hell that means), and put on one of those old, romantic comedies you’re always gushing about with those stupid, beautiful starry eyes of yours. he doesn’t get the appeal of romantic comedies or vintage films, but he likes watching you watch them. the way your eyes light up, the way you laugh at the corny dialogue—that’s worth it to him.

and of course, you love it. he’s pretty sure you’d love anything he did for you, but it still makes his chest feel warm and annoyingly fuzzy—or maybe that’s just because of the anxiety coursing through him at the thought of his next surprise.

he’s been holding onto it for weeks now with no real intention of ever showing it to you, of ever giving it to you. but with the holiday rolling around and this unfamiliar desire to do something really special for it, he’d caved.

you can tell matt is nervous when he hands the gift over, his lips pressed into a firm line almost as if he’s upset about the whole thing despite knowing he isn’t. still, it makes you feel a little guilty and apprehensive as you tilt your head to the side slightly and offer him a reassuring smile.

“matt, you know you don’t have to...” but the words die in your throat when you watch your boyfriend shake his head.

“nah, jus’... take it. and don’t make it a big deal, yeah?” he breathes out, but other than that, he doesn’t say much else.

you try to suppress a small, amused smile before nodding your head in agreement, your gaze shifting down to the small, beat-up notebook resting in your hands. you’re not sure what exactly to expect when you open it up, but almost immediately your heart starts pounding in your chest. inside, the notebook is filled with rough sketches and scribbled notes. it’s not neat or polished, but it’s him, and you hold it gingerly as you take in its contents.

matt watches you with anxiety coursing through his body. he knows exactly what’s in that notebook: you. there are sketches of you, some detailed, some just quick doodles of you laughing, sleeping, stretching in his hoodie. and then there are notes about things you’ve said—little moments that have made him smile, things you probably don’t even remember saying. and then finally, and probably what he’s most fearful of, are a few messy, unfinished poems. he’s not a poet and he’s well aware of that, but he thinks the intent of them comes across well enough. sometimes he just doesn’t know how else to put into words what you mean to him.

he watches as you flip through it in silence, eyes wide, fingers tracing the pages like they’re fragile. when you finally look up at him, he’s already avoiding eye contact, rubbing the back of his neck like he regrets giving it to you.

“jus’ figured you should know how i see you,” he mumbles just to break the silence if nothing else, his own heart pounding wildly in his chest.

when you finally speak, your voice wobbles. “matt... this is—”

“yeah, yeah, it’s dumb. y'don’t have to—” he starts to grumble, but to his surprise, you’re damn near tackling him. full-on, arms wrapped around his neck, knocking him back on the couch, tackles him. you’re kissing his face, his jaw, his lips, and laughing through teary eyes.

“you are the sweetest person alive, you absolute liar.”

matt groans, rolling his eyes while insisting on how fuckin’ dramatic you are, but his arms tighten around you anyway. and when you insist that this is the best valentines day you’ve ever had, that no one’s ever done something like this for you before, he just buries his face in your neck like he can hide the fact that you’re his favorite valentine too—and that maybe he could learn to like this holiday if more are spent with you.

©sturnswiftie

divider credit; @jiyascepter

[livelaughloveluffy]

The straw hat crew with reader who likes to give them compliments, but hates it when the crew gives reader compliments?

compliments - with the straw hat crew

a/n: ahhh thank you for the request!! it's been a long time since i've written a fic like this, so hopefully i can do it some justice!! 💗 (i like skimmed proof-read this so forgive me if there is some grammatical and spelling errors 😭😭)

a/n: (also sorry, the sanji girlie in me is always going to bring it back to sanji, so yeah... there's some sanji x reader in here too 😭😭😭)

a/n: ((sorry idk how to tag this guys 😭😭😭😭😭😭))

word count: fuck idk man, its kinda long though (hehehe that's what she said)

nothing but fluff here💗

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it has only been two weeks since you first joined the straw hat pirates, and it was definitely a huge change of pace from your life before them. the crew, as eccentric, spontaneous, and bold, as they are were also some of the kindest people you had ever met. you couldn't help but be in total awe of them. i mean- how could you not? the amount of countries they've helped, people freed from oppression, friends they have defended and supported even when the whole world was against them...

it was hard not to feel insignificant, through no fault of theirs, it was just a lot to live up to.... and it was hard to feel enough at times.

• ♡ •

while your time being apart of the crew is nothing to write home about, hardly even considering yourself a true member yet, you still couldn't help but be utterly amazed with the people around you, and you just couldn't help yourself but to let them know.

mornings on the sunny were truly a special time. the mouth watering smells leaking out from under the kitchen door, as well as the sounds of a soft melody from brooke's violin fill the ship.

"good morning brooke! what song are you playing? it sounds wonderful!" you ask as you made you way to the kitchen, too eager to see what wonders awaited for breakfast

"yohoho!! just a ballad i've been composing!" he replied, sharing a smile with you before you turn and open the kitchen door.

"it smells delicious sanji!! seriously, im salivating out there! when's breakfast going to be ready?"

a faint blush appeared on his cheeks, but after a quick drag from his cigarette he quickly regains his composure "you're actually right on time! i just finished up!!"

• ♡ •

after breakfast, you weren't surprised to find zoro working out, as he had told you "any second not training, drinking, or sleeping, is a waste" one of your first nights on the ship. you watched in awe as he carried an inhuman amount of weight with ease, not even breaking a sweat.

feeling your stare, his eyes wander to meet yours, "need something?"

"oh! um.. no sorry!! i just can't believe you can lift that so easily!! you're not even sweating!"

"well yeah, this is just my warm up" he replied, a small smirk appearing from the corner of his lips as you wandered away

• ♡ •

in the girl's shared bedroom, you found nami hunched over her desk, carefully and slowly drawings lines for yet another one of her maps. it had been a few days since you had seen this particular map, so you quietly peered over her shoulder to see her progress

"nami, this is incredible!! i could've sworn two days ago there was only a vague outline on this page!! look at that detail!!"

she turned around, beaming at you "thanks!! after years of practice i could draw a map this simple with my eyes closed!"

• ♡ •

the sounds of sawing and nails being pounded into wood grew too loud for you to ignore, so you finally decided to leave the girls room to see what the commotion was all about.

in the three seconds it took you to get to the door, the sounds had ceased. curiosity overtaking you, you couldn't help but step out and see what had caused it all.

the first think that caught your eye was a small greenhouse the seemingly appeared out of thin air, since it definitely wasn't here earlier, and usopp and franky opening up some colas nearby

chopper ran up to you, giddy with excitement "do you want to see the new greenhouse usopp and franky made? its perfect for all my medicinal herbs! now i can grow them here on the sunny!!"

taking the small deers hoof into your hand, you followed him down the stairs to the greenhouse. "wow!!! you guys just built this?"

"franky drew up the plans after breakfast and did the labor, and i added a special watering system!" usopp chimes in, ready to boast about their design, and for good reason

"consider me impressed!!! i may even dare to say that it's SUPER!" you proclaim, earning giggles from all three of the boys

• ♡ •

the following morning you woke up with a purpose. stars still in the sky from how early it was, you tiptoed out of the shared bedroom and to the kitchen. trying to be as quiet as possible, not wanting anyone to hear you, you turned on the lights and gathered the ingredients to make some lemon bars, as a thank you for the crew, they did save your life after all.

as you baked, occasionally glancing out the kitchen window every once in a while you slowly saw the stars leave the sky, the moon disappear, and the sun slowly beginning to rise. its just about dawn now and your lemon bars had finally finished chilling, ready to be cut and served.

sanji, a typical early riser since he has to prep and cook breakfast, opened the kitchen door shocked to see the lights already on and you inside. "oh! mellorine!! i didn't expect to see your beautiful face this early! to what do i owe this pleasure?" he asks.

"sanji.. i'm not- um.... i just made some lemon bars... as a thank you for the crew.. maybe we could eat them with breakfast if thats okay..."

"of course we can!!! im sure i can whip up some stuff that would compliment them perfectly! get some rest! it's still super early, i'll call when breakfast is ready!"

• ♡ •

"breakfast!!!" sanji's voice rings throughout the sunny, and slowly but surely everyone made their way to the kitchen, you being the last to arrive. once you had been seated, you noticed sanji walking his way over to the table, with your tray of lemon bars in hand as he announces "this morning we also have a very special dish prepared by our newest member!"

luffy's eyes widen as he looks over at you and practically shouts in excitement "wow!! i didn't know you could cook! what did you make? im sure its amazing!!! i want some!!"

with all eyes on you, you couldn't help but feel a bit shy, the confidence and determination you had this morning suddenly dissipated "just some lemon bars... its really nothing special... i just wanted to thank you guys.. for everything.. it's just you're all so amazing, you guys are crazy talented and strong and so kind and thoughtful... its really nothing special... i'm sure they don't even hold a candle to the elaborate desserts sanji makes every night..." you mumble, cheeks burning red with embarrassment.

"i'm sure they're delicious! definitely better than anything our captain could ever make" nami says with a sly smile. "all this talk about food is making me even more hungry!! let's finally eat guys!" luffy shouts, grabbing for the closest plate of food to him, too impatient to wait any longer.

• ♡ •

one chaotic, fast and messy breakfast later, and all the plates on the table were practically licked clean.

"thank you for breakfast sanji, you outdid yourself as always! those omelets and the potatoes, freshly squeezed orange juice, delicious as always!" you said absolutely glowing, sanji's breakfasts truly were the best, you wonder how you ever lived a life without them before.

"thank you mellorine!! but those lemon bars! they were divine!! who taught you how to bake?" he asks.

before you can get a reply in, the entire crew bursts into an uproar of compliments.

"yeah!!! i never knew you could make stuff like that!! i might have you replace sanji!!!" luffy exclaims

"i totally would've thought sanji made them if you hadn't said anything!" nami says, usopp nodding along and adding "yeah!! i was totally worried they would be bad at first because you seemed so nervous, but i can't believe sanji didn't make them!"

a soft spoken "absolutely delicious" coming from robin

zoro, lifting his head up and meeting you eyes, decided to chime in on the topic "i guess they were good." but after an intense glare from sanji then mumbles "...really good" his cheeks flushing ever so slightly.

"they were SUPER!!!!" franky shouts, causing luffy, chopper, and usopp to giggle.

and by this point, the compliments became a bit overwhelming. you didn't feel confident enough to accept them, but didn't want to be rude and ignore them either. your silence was definitely noticed by the crew who began to quiet down a bit as your face grew hotter and hotter, blush way too visible to hide behind your hair, you looked down and muttered as quietly as possible "they're really nothing special... im glad you guys liked them though..." and rushed out of the kitchen as fast as you possibly could.

• ♡ •

you retreated to the crow's nest to collect yourself. it was truly the perfect spot on the sunny to get some alone time. out of sight from everyone, but still in a spot where you can enjoy the warm sun, the ocean breeze, and the sound of the waves crashing as you sail the sea.

thankfully, you managed to leave a book up here the previous day, so once you caught your breath and the blush cleared from your face, you read. just to take your mind off of the interaction with the crew.

• ♡ •

you weren't sure how much time had passed, as you had gotten unexpectedly absorbed in the story of your book, but it wasn't until you heard the sound of a lighter.

you look up to meet the sky-blue eyes of sanji, he takes a drag of his cigarette before taking a seat on the floor next to you. the two of you sat together for moment of silence, minus the sound of the waves beneath you both. a quiet sigh leaves his mouth, before he breaks the silence "i just wanted to apologize. i didn't mean to put you on the spot in there. we didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"no you don't owe me an apology! really! it's fine!! i know you guys were just trying to be nice and compliment me but.... i don't know... " you paused to collect your thoughts for a second. trying to word how you felt. sanji waiting patiently, taking a couple drags before you finally found the words to continue talking.

"it's just hard sometimes.. to feel like i'm good enough... especially around you guys, i mean the countless people and countries you guys have saved, your strength, your kindness... sometimes, i guess i just feel like a fraud being in the same crew..."

sanji took a moment to consider your words and feelings, and with a quiet sigh said "yeah.. i get it. it's funny because i actually feel the same way sometimes... but you know, luffy chose you to be here for a reason, and even if you don't see that, he does. we all do. we all serve a purpose on the crew, one thats invaluable to our captain, and he has no doubts about what that is."

finally turning to meet those sky-blue eyes, you looked at sanji with a small smile. "thanks, that really means a lot.."

he returned your smile with a bigger one and replied "of course!! i mean.... come on, those were some damn good lemon bars and i think luffy would kill me if you never made them again."

you shoved his shoulder, and in between laughs, you look over and sanji and reply "whatever!!"

and it was at this moment, for the very first time under the warm summer sun and ocean breeze blowing through your hair and the faint smell of sanji's cigarette smoke, that you began to felt a little more sure of your place in the straw hat pirates...

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a/n: i totally didn't expect to make this as long as i did so thanks for sticking around if you made it this far!!! i love and appreciate you!! have a great day/afternoon/evening/night!!! 😭😭😭

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!

[jaggedamethyst]

circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part four)

tutor!jayce talis x reader, ekko x reader college au

content: jayce ghosts you when you need him most...so you have no choice but to lean on your best friend, ekko

pining, mental health mentions, neurodivergence, lmk if i missed any!

notes: ekko pic...omg... (you may think this series is going slow but i hate a slow burn ass fic that has them fucking chapter three don't pmo...also this evolved way past just jayce and i need to do ekko justice...bc some of yall don't, clocked it)

word count: 2.9k

series masterlist

⭑·ﾟﾟ·*:༅。.。༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅。.。༅:*·ﾟﾟ·⭑

“Do you know that girl Jayce is always with?” 

You arrived to class, ready to learn—but not about physics truthfully. You expected to cut corners, create friendly conversation about nothing, humor Viktor. When you got there, though, you had to ask him immediately. 

“Mel Medara?” Viktor looked to you with intrigue. “I know of her…but not much about her.” He leaned to his left, toward you, “Why?” 

“She’s just always…around? And we spoke to each other once but I was in a hurry…didn’t get much chance for a formal introduction.” 

“Are you certain that your intrigue is rooted purely in your inquisitive nature…or is there another reason you want to share?” 

“No-“ 

The sound of the door towards the front of the class opening interrupted you—it was perfect timing, actually. You would rather not have to unpack why Mel’s presence bothered you so much; truthfully it was an inexplicable feeling. Someone walked in, and you sat up straighter. 

“Hi, everyone! My name is Caitlyn, some of you may know me if you’ve ever been to the student resource center.” She smiled at you, exchanging a look of recognition. “I wanted to formally introduce myself… I will be joining as a TA. If you need anything and can’t get ahold of the professor, you can ask me your course related questions.” She moved to plug a laptop into the projector, “Here is my email for future reference.” She allowed some time for people to copy and take photos of her email down. “Unfortunately, today’s class will be canceled for an emergency…but I was instructed to relay to you that the quiz will still be held next week. It’ll be on vectors and calculating their angles. Be sure to refresh yourselves over the weekend and reach out to me should you have any questions.” People started to shuffle around her, getting up to leave class. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, guys. Feel free to use the space to get some other work done, or leave early.” 

“What the fuck, this was such a waste of my time.” You glanced back towards the board, making sure you got the email address right. “I have been so tired I could be sleeping right now.” 

“I’m sorry, I know you have a lot to deal with right now.” Viktor moved to the end of the aisle, grabbing his cane while slinging his bag over one shoulder. “At least you’ve been in tutoring. The quiz this week should be easier, right?” 

“That’s the thing,” you reached for your phone, “We’ve only just got to vectors so far. That was hard enough.” You hovered your finger over Jayce’s contact, never actually having messaged him. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you started texting him. 

hi jayce 

im sorry to bother you but i have my quiz next week and its gonna be on more stuff than we got to in our sessions

do you have any time to meet with me this weekend? if not thats ok, i can ask my friend

You paused, walking behind Viktor without looking up from the phone screen. 

i just need you

No, you shook your head, continuing the text. 

i just need your help

lmk

ty 

You grimaced at the text bubbles, hating how you split all of that up. You imagined his annoyed face, seeing all of these desperate messages. You wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t answer. You wouldn’t answer you. 

Viktor turned to you, “Are you alright?” 

“Yes, just frustrated and irritated and angry…thats all.” 

“That’s not a great combination.” 

You shook your head. Without trying, Viktor could always cheer you up. “Unrelated, but did Jayce ask you about what snacks I eat?” 

“He did,” he looked over at you, “It was odd. He said something about ‘reinforcements’ for your guys’ tutoring session.” 

“Oh...okay.” 

Viktor would call himself a lot of things, including perceptive. He didn’t say much, but he noticed the way your eyes lingered on one another when you first met. He was aware of the way you spoke about each other, especially when it was just Viktor around. He simply arched a brow at you, observing your concerned look at the phone screen. 

“Maybe you should take the weekend to rest and recuperate.” 

“I would…but the quiz-“ 

“Just for today. Wait for Jayce to get back to you. Then you can focus solely on next week.” He nodded reassuringly. 

He returned the nod, liking the sound of the plan. 

If only Jayce had bothered to answer. 

——————

“Hi.” 

“Come on in.” Ekko stepped back, letting you into his dorm. 

“I know it’s so last minute, but I know nothing about angles …figured you could help.” 

“I absolutely can help and would love to.” 

You sat your stuff down, getting comfortable as you’d done dozens of times before. You turned a corner, washing your hands at the sink before heading to grab a throw blanket from Ekko's bed. 

He knew your habits, calling from the living room area. “I have the heated blanket out here, too, if you wanna use that one. Know you get cold.” 

You exited his room, wearing the slippers you left under his bed. “Once again, you are the best…because I am, in fact, freezing my ass off right now.” 

“Want something to drink?” 

“Always.” 

The two of you were so in sync—it had to be that way after Powder. It became worse when Vi blamed you, suspecting one of you said something to her to make her disappear. Even though you know you did nothing wrong, there was still a self-hate there. That you couldn’t be there for a friend who needed you—so much so that she left entirely. You couldn’t do that to Ekko, he felt the same. 

“So,” you pulled out the folder Jayce had given you, a slight frown on your face at the thought of him completely ignoring you. “I have this paper, its like a cheat sheet for vectors…but besides what Jayce told me I don’t know what to do. The TA said we also have to calculate the angles…that makes no sense.” 

Ekko grabbed his notebook, flipping to a blank sheet of paper. He sketched a makeshift drawing—surprisingly good for how quick he’d done it. You were always in awe of his artistic talent. 

“Okay, so here…is a light pole.” He moved his finger to the other side of the paper, motioning toward a little drawing of you, smiling on the sidewalk. “This is you.” 

“Wait I’m so adorable here!”

Ekko chuckled, side eyeing you a bit, “Yeah…” 

You snatched the pencil—quickly drawing in a stick figure of him. “This is you!” 

“Is it really? Couldn’t tell.” 

“Hey-“ You swatted his arm, “You’re identical in my opinion.” 

“If having lines for a body is identical…then sure. But anyways…not the point of my sketch.” He grabbed the pencil back, “Thank you very much.” He flipped the pencil, using the eraser side to show you the details. “Okay…light pole…you.” He smirked, knowing you wanted to interject. Ekko raised his hand before you could, “This is the distance between you and the pole.” He made up and wrote a random number in feet under the bottom, the same for the pole. “This is the height of the pole. This is all you need to find every angle and distance measurement.” 

The look on your face was one of pure confusion. “How does that make any sense whatsoever, Ekko?” You moved to close the book. “Actually, lets just watch a movie instead. I’m prepared to fail at this point.” 

Ekko grabbed the book from you, reopening it. “Well, I’m not, so let’s get to work.” 

He continued, explaining as best he could. It was no use, though, it just wasn’t making sense to you. You nodded, trying to get him to move on to something else. 

“Does that make sense?” 

“Yeah.” You reached to hug Ekko, “You’re the best.” Pulling back, you plastered on a smile, hiding the discomfort. You didn’t feel ready whatsoever. Suddenly, Ekko grabbed your hands, pulling your attention to him. 

“You’re gonna do great.” He lingered on you for a while, “Promise.” 

The doubt you felt made you want to hole up and skip class altogether. Eventually, it developed into a disdain for Jayce. When you thought about it, he was the reason you were going to fail…again. 

——————

You decided against skipping class on Monday, but you were definitely opting out of that damn tutoring session. If Jayce can’t answer a simple few texts, how were you to know you even had a standing appointment anymore. It made you feel less than worthy of a proper notice. Above all, it just felt plain unprofessional…he’s an employee after all. 

Walking into class and into this quiz felt like a walk to your execution. Midterms were quickly approaching, which meant you only had so many quizzes you could fail before the majority of your final grade was tainted by bad ones. 

Viktor greeted you as normal, moving over to give you a seat. “Are you prepared?”

“As best as I can be.” 

The beauty of college was that you did assessments in class and got the results as soon as you submitted. Knowing you would get your score back in the next few minutes had your stomach churning. An image of Jayce, carefree and nonchalant, popped into your head. Nothing was making sense. Reluctantly, you started choosing random answers—disregarding the calculator altogether. Before you knew it, your grade, a 56%, reflected back to you. 

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself. You closed your laptop, getting up to leave class early. “I’ll see you later, Viktor.” 

Before he could reply, you were gone. Pushing through the door. You grabbed your phone from your pocket, texting Ekko. 

im done early, wanna meet rn?

He replied a few seconds later.

omw 

You picked up the pace, not out of urgency, but in pure frustration. Everything you’d been working towards wasn’t paying off. The time you spent not being with Ekko—with Jayce—was a waste. 

When you arrived to the dining hall, Ekko wasn’t there yet. You took the time to grab both you and him something to eat for lunch. Within minutes, Ekko showed up, that warm smile on his face as usual. He leaned into you, giving you a side hug while simultaneously grabbing the food from you. 

“How was the quiz?” You didnt reply, simply giving him a side eye. “Damn…I’m sorry.” 

“Not your fault…but thanks for helping.” 

He’d seamlessly changed the subject—allowing the two of you to talk without the reminder of your failure that day. You didn’t acknowledge how fast the time had passed and truthfully, didn’t care. You hadn’t planned to show up to tutoring…much less give Jayce any notice. 

To your right, you suddenly heard a voice, interrupting you and Ekko. 

“Hey.” You looked over, seeing Jayce standing there. “I figured you’d be here.” He looks between you and Ekko, hands now on his hips. “You missed our session.” 

You raised a brow and crossed your arms over your chest. “Wow, really? Didn’t know we were still having those.” 

“Of course we are, you have those quizzes-“ 

“Had.” You interrupted, “There was one today. You’d know if you checked your phone.” 

He looked down, embarrassed at his phone sitting in his front pant pocket. 

“I’m sorry- I know this is important for you but something came up.” 

“What? What came up?” Ekko spoke up. 

Jayce turned to look at him, finally acknowledging his presence again. “Something personal,” he looked away, focusing back on you. “Can we talk alone?” 

Ekko spoke again, “Say what you need to say.” 

“I would, but I’m not talking to you.” 

A screech of Ekko’s chair resounded in the dining hall. You reached a hand out, gesturing toward them. “Ekko, please.” 

Ekko looked over to you and inhaled a deep breath. He was looking at Jayce again, but kept talking to you. “I’ll see you later, okay? Call if you need anything.” 

“Wait- Ekko-” 

Jayce gulped, sitting down across from you. You watched Ekko leave as Jayce took his seat, hands resting on the table. 

“What the hell is your problem? You ghost me then show up here with an attitude? I should be pissed…I am pissed! I failed because of you!” 

He nodded, knowing the weight of his being inaccessible. “I’m sorry.” 

“You said that.” 

“There was a personal thing, a family emergency-“

“And yet, your phone is still in working condition.”

You didn’t want to be insensitive, but it takes seconds to reply. A simple message would’ve sufficed. 

“My mom’s sick.” You froze—remembering that it’s just him and his mom. “She was in the hospital all weekend…it still hasn’t gotten better.” He paused, looking at you now, “I thought I owed you to at least show up today.” 

“Well…now I feel like shit.” 

“Don’t. Not your fault I didn’t tell you what was happening.” 

“Is there anything I can do?” 

“Hope she gets better?” 

You reached over, placing a comforting hand on his, “I can do that.” 

He let you linger there, before pulling back. “How about this week, since I messed up so bad with scheduling…we meet as much as you’d like just so you can be ready. Shit, it can be every day if you want.” He nodded, “We’re gonna make sure you pass this class if it’s the last thing I do.” 

“Are you sure? I can be pretty high maintenance…” 

He leaned back in his chair, a nonchalant yet playful look on his face, “Not worried about it.” 

“Okay.” You shrugged, “If you say so.” 

The pair of you exchanged smiles, not at all prepared for how tumultuous this week would be. 

part five

taglist

@juskonutoh @sseleniaa @aerina127 @sleepysoldier @angelicmisty @1800latenitecreep @venus-in-roses

[susiekern]

on ice - Sukuna x fem!reader

a/n: Guess who's back with something other than The Fallen... me, hi. Since I've been in a bad slumber lately I finally edited the Sukuna piece I wrote in november probably mixing my hyperfixation on jjk and hockey

general: modern au

warnings: swearing, suggestive language, Sukuna probably ooc but idc, Naoya probably deserves his own warning

word count: 4.191

There’s soft music playing in the bathroom as you go through your morning routine. Wash your face, put on skincare, have a few sips of coffee, apply makeup, and then curl your hair. It’s peaceful and relaxing almost.

Barely 6:30 am on the clock, and you’re almost ready to head out. After curling the last strand with the straightener, you take another sip from the pretty ceramic mug that’s been waiting patiently on the counter and clean up the little mess you’ve created getting ready. With all of the cosmetics and hair tools in place, you grab the mug and small Bluetooth speaker, taking them with you to the bedroom for your final and hardest task of this morning. Getting the 6’2 tall hockey player out of bed. Every time, you find it amusing how the sounds of you making the coffee or even the music you always put on don’t wake him up. It’s like he’s hibernating and won’t wake up on his own until the spring comes. Actually, when you think about it, the 210-pound clump of muscles, under the giant duvet, kind of reminds you of a bear in its cave.

“Kuna, get up; we need to leave soon.”

You place your mug on the nightstand and sit on the edge of the bed, leaning over his sleeping body. Your voice is not much louder than a whisper, but after doing it so many times, you know it’s enough to wake him up. He’s able to sleep through 5 alarms, but as soon as you whisper “Kuna”, he’s out of sleep slumber in seconds, like he has some kind of y/n radar. A bit funny, but mostly adorable. A soft smile pulls on your lips when his brows slightly furrow, and he wraps one strong arm around your figure. With one pull, you’re lying flat on the mattress, half of your body under his weight, his head nuzzling in the crook of your arm and neck. There’s a grunt coming from his throat as he breathes in your perfume, and the arm that’s around your waist brings you even closer, if that’s possible.

“Kuna, seriously, we’ll be late.” You try again, even though your fingers instinctively tangle in his pink strands that softly tingle your cheek.

“Let’s stay in today. It’s not like we have anything important to do.” Sukuna murmurs in your neck, and you can’t help but laugh at his words.

“Oh, right, Mister Team Captain. How stupid of me to think your training, game, and my presentation are important enough for us to leave the bed.”

“Exactly.” He nods and sighs after a few seconds. Giving your neck a small kiss, he pulls himself up to sit and stretch his arms. “I fucking hate it when you’re right.”

“So, always?” Teasing a little, you admire the view. All of the hours he spends at the gym and on ice pay off because just the sight of his upper body muscles stretching makes you almost drool on the bedsheet. Every time you see him shirtless, there’s a strong urge in your brain to bite into his pecs and/or abs. And you did it before, many times. “On second thought, maybe I should drop out, you leave the team to Yuji, and we stay here forever?”

“As much as I like how that sounds, I have to decline the offer.” It’s Sukuna’s turn to laugh. He leans in to give you a quick kiss and gets up. Giving you one last smirk before he locks himself in the bathroom. “Besides, you’ve already got yourself all dolled up; we can’t let that go to waste. Right, doll?”

With a deep sigh, you move up too, following another step in your routine. Teasing by Sukuna? Check. His breakfast protein shake and coffee? Work in progress. You’re standing in front of the coffee machine, preparing his usual double espresso with one teaspoon of sugar, when he walks in and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Your shake is on the island, and coffee is almost ready.” One of your hands rests on his forearm as you lean back into his chest. Not sure how, but Sukuna is like a walking heater; his body temperature is always a bit higher than it probably should be. That makes him a perfect sleeping partner for cold winter nights, or for someone who’s always freezing, every night.

“God, I don’t tell you how amazing you are nearly often enough.” The man sighs and, using one of his giant hands, turns your head by the chin to kiss you. You smile but pull away as soon as he bites your bottom lip. It’s either stand back now or be late for everything, because if his tongue makes it in, there’s no way he’s letting you go with just kissing.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m perfect, I know. Now drink and get ready, because Yaga will kill you if you’re late again.” With one last peck, you leave him alone to get fully dressed in the bedroom and finish your own coffee.

“You’re staying at mine after the game?”

15 minutes later you’re both in Sukuna’s jeep as he drives towards the campus, and you go through the notes for the presentation one more time. His warm hand is on your thigh, thumb caressing in circles.

“You just assume I’ll be at the game, huh?” He squeezes your leg lightly as a warning not to play with him. At least not that early in the morning.

“I can’t play without my lucky charm, can I? We can go to yours, but I doubt that Shoko would appreciate it.”

“You always say that.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I have better things to do in the morning than listening to ‘my sleep schedule is fucked and you fuck it up even more with your mating sounds of a feral rabbit’ lecture again. You, for example.” You roll your eyes but nod and flip the page in the notebook. The rest of the drive is silent; you focus on your notes, and Sukuna decides not to interrupt but keeps his hand on you for the whole time. When he stops in front of your faculty building, you grab your bag and turn to him. “So, I’ll see you at the rink…?”

You’re not sure if that’s a question or a statement, and honestly, Sukuna’s not sure either.

“Yeah, boys would kill me if their captain sucks, because his ‘charm’ is not there.”

“Are you really still doing that weird thing with Sukuna?” A few hours and a presentation later, you’re sitting in the cafeteria with your friend Yuki, sipping another coffee.

“What weird thing?” You ask, not sure what she means.

“Relationship without an actual relationship, duh.”

Okay, here’s a thing. Or to be fair, there isn’t. Because you and Sukuna aren’t together, at least not officially. You are together most times, sure, but you haven’t put a label on it so far, and there’s no forecast of it changing anytime soon.

You met him over a year ago, when your good friend and his cousin, Choso, introduced you at the party, and you kind of clicked from the first moment. You were intrigued by his ‘I don’t care about anything’ image, and obviously, he’s attractive as fuck. And you caught his interest when his attempts at flirting with you were laughed at. After that night he got your number from Choso, asked you out for a coffee, then for a drink, his game, a movie, and suddenly one day you’re being introduced as his friend. And it was PG-friendly for the first few months. Sure, there was teasing and flirting for fun, but you never went further than cuddling while watching a movie. You both appreciated what you had and didn’t want to fuck it up by… fucking. It’d mean crossing the invisible line that was drawn at the beginning of your friendship.

Until you did cross it. The hockey team had an important game that even Sukuna was nervous about, and you were probably the only person who knew how not to make it worse. Even scolding your mutual friends for violating his space when he just needed some silence and peace, not 100 texts from everyone. And then you showed up at the arena wearing his jersey and a smile that somehow calmed his nerves as soon as he saw it. That’s why when, after the victorious game, you offered to drive Sukuna home so he could get ready for the after-party, and you were still in his jersey, with his name on the back, sprawled in his bed, waiting ‘till he got out of the shower? He was all over you in no time. There was no awkwardness, no regrets after, and no weird moments you’d experience during the first time with someone new. It felt natural, like you’ve done it a million times before. It felt right. Safe to say, you didn’t make it to the party, too absorbed with each other.

And ever since, you’ve been in this… weird state. You’re not together, but neither of you has even looked at someone else since your first night; you spend most nights at his or your place, and you know each other's schedules and routines. Hell, you even have your own for shared evenings and mornings now. At this point, almost half of your closet is in his apartment, and after the first month of going back and forth, Sukuna secretly took photos of your cosmetics to get you a set for his place so you wouldn’t leave him early in the morning.

All of your friends just assumed one day you’d randomly make it official, seeing how deep you fell for one another. Honestly, at first, you thought so too. That maybe after a few weeks, one of you would start that ‘what are we’ conversation.

But you know Sukuna’s not a relationship type of guy, and you don’t want to risk losing what you have for a dumb label. Even if it hurts like hell every time you tell people you’re ‘just friends.’

“We’re just having fun, Yuki.” Your answer is not the one she was hoping for, but it’s the one she expected.

“You’ll hurt yourself, babe. And I’ll be the first to tell you ‘told ya.’ Then we’ll buy cheap wine and drink from the bottle, watching some shitty rom-coms.” She sighs when you smile at her and turn your attention to your phone when it pings on the table. She doesn’t need to check to know you’re texting Sukuna, because who else would you reply immediately to? “Dumb, dumb girl.”

It’s almost time for the game, and the arena is buzzing, full of excited people. Your team is playing against their main competition for the playoffs, and every time they meet on the ice, it’s intense and brutal. And people can’t wait to see it tonight. You’re standing with Choso, Yuki, and Nobara, Sukuna’s brother’s friend, in the no-civilians zone, one of the perks of being close to the captain. Your conversation is cut short when the enemy team makes their way in. Funny enough, you know at least half of them from high school, since you’ve only moved here when you’ve started college.

“Well, well, isn’t that y/n y/l?” Hearing a familiar voice, you turn around and smile lightly. “Shit, it’s actually you.”

“Hi, Naoya. It’s been a while.” The blonde man smiles back and pulls you into a hug. You and Naoya were friends when you were still in middle and high school, meeting young when your families were doing some business together. For some time you even dated, but that ended up pretty quick when you decided to leave the town. Many said that Naoya was shady; you’ve heard about him a few times in the last two years, about how he changed, more and more similar to his father, the biggest asshole you’ve ever met.

“Year or two, yeah. How are you?” He asks when you separate after a moment and looks you up and down. “Looking good as always.”

“Stop, gosh. You don’t look bad yourself. Keeping the hair longer now?” You ruffle the stands a little, and he scoffs, pushing your hand away.

“Quit it, woman. It’s already messy without your help.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good, thanks. Studying business, so a little busy, but…”

“Too busy to grab a coffee with an old friend tomorrow?” He interrupts. “I really missed having you around, and I’d love to catch up. So what do you say, y/n?”

You don’t even get to answer, ‘cause a second after his question, there’s a tattooed arm over your shoulder, and you feel the warmth you know so well.

“She’s busy. So quit it, Zenin.” You look up at Sukuna and almost shiver. His face is like a stone, jaw tense, and if looks could kill, Naoya would be reduced to ash already.

“And since when are you a guard dog?” The blonde man snorts but looks between you with the tiniest specks of confusion and much more annoyance. Just now he notices that you’re wearing a jersey with a proud C on your chest, and it doesn’t take a genius to guess it says “Sukuna” on your back. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“Naoya, let’s go!” One of his teammates yells at him, but his gaze is still stuck on you.

“Think about it, princess. For old time’s sake. You have my number.” With that, he winks and turns to join his team.

“What the hell, Kuna?” You move from under the tattooed arm and cross your own on your chest. “What was that?”

“What was what?” The man in front of you furrows his brows and checks the time on his phone. “We’ll talk about it later if you want, but I have to go get ready.” He says, but stays right there, looking at you expectantly. You scoff and lift your chin up a little.

“Need something?”

He does, and you both know it. Before each game, he finds you to collect his good luck kiss(es), since the one time you did that jokingly, he scored 5 points on his own that evening. Now it’s a must-have, and if they have a game away, he’ll collect it right before he has to leave.

“Doll, don’t be a brat. Told you we’ll talk about it at home.” He sighs, and you roll your eyes, trying to hide the fact your heart went mad. Home. Not my or your place, home. What the hell?

“Fine, grumpy. Only because I want you all to win; I hate to see Yuji sad.” You take a step closer, and Sukuna leans down a little so you can reach his face and cradle it in your hands. One kiss on the forehead (that Sukuna cringes about), one on the lips. However, it’s never just one. You hold back a moan that tries to slip out when he pulls you closer by the waist and deepens the kiss, his tongue making its way into your mouth.

“Suku—oh, shit, sorry.”

You pull away, hearing Yuji’s embarrassed voice from behind you. Sukuna’s younger brother stands in the locker room’s doorway, holding the door with one hand, the second scratching his neck nervously, not used to seeing his brother in situations like this.

“I’m coming, Yuji, chill out.” The older one says his way and looks back at you. “Wait for me after the game, doll.”

“Yeah, okay.” You simply nod and watch his back as he disappears with his brother. Only then does a deep sigh leave your lips before you go to find your friends on the bleachers, guessing they left during your conversation with Naoya. What a mess.

You can barely sit still throughout the game. Being at almost every one, since meeting Sukuna, you got used to seeing aggression on ice. But this? This is a new level.

Both teams went through almost every player they had, penalties were thrown left and right, and at one point you were sure that the guy named Todo missed his destiny and should try MMA instead of hockey, ‘cause what the fuck.

Somehow your team managed to score three points in all of that chaos, two on the power play and the third with pure luck, but it counts. Which made their opponents even more bloodthirsty with only one period to go and 3:1 on the table. That’s also why Geto gets the meanest elbow to his sternum, Toji, your goon gets thrown into a wall by Todo (you worry for a second that the wall would break with how hard that was), Yuji gets tripped and run into and ends up with an actual deep cut from this asshole’s skate on his leg.

There are 7 minutes left on the clock when Sukuna goes against Naoya in a face-off. So far he was calm, surprisingly, seeing as his brother had to be taken to the medical room, and there were barely any emotions on his face. Until Naoya starts talking. He says maybe two sentences before Sukuna drops his stick and pins him to the ground with actual murder intentions in every single one of his punches.

You’re on your feet, as close to the wall as you can, and you swear your heart stops when Naoya manages to land a few punches too. It takes four players to pull Sukuna away from him, and before he skates straight to the penalty box, knowing very well he’ll probably stay there until the end of the game, he spits a mix of saliva and blood, landing it mere centimeters from Zenin’s face.

“What the fuck did he say?” Choso wonders, as you all watch how Naoya’s teammates almost scrape him from the ice.

“I’ll take a wild guess and bet it involved y/n.” You hate how you have to agree with Yuki. But what could he say to flip the murder switch in Sukuna?

The team won, but no one is really in a celebratory mood. Yuki and Choso wait with you outside of the arena, but as soon as they see Sukuna, they leave, not wanting to piss him off anymore. You take a look at him and sigh, taking in damp hair, a busted brow, and bruised knuckles that took damage even through the gloves.

The silence seems ironically loud as you drive the car to his apartment, but neither decides to break it before you get there. Only when you get inside does Sukuna drop his duffel bag onto the floor and lean his hips on the kitchen island, that you decide to speak, not sure where to start.

“Why?”

“You have to be more specific, doll. Why what?” He sighs and crosses his arms on his chest, fingers tapping on one bicep, a nervous habit of his and the only sign he was actually stressed about this conversation.

“Cut the bullshit, Ryomen.” Well, that got a reaction. You’ve never before called him by his actual name; hell, you weren’t sure if anyone ever used it before. Even his brother and cousin called him just Sukuna. Not letting his stare intimidate you, you keep talking. “You know exactly what I’m asking about. But do you want to hear it? Sure. Why did you try to scare Naoya off before the game, and why did you beat him later?”

“I wasn’t trying to scare him off.” He starts, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Please, I’ve known you long enough to know your ‘look at how big and dangerous I am’ stance.”

“Will you fucking let me talk?” There’s annoyance in Sukuna’s raised voice after you interrupt him. “You want to be right so badly? Fine. I was fucking jealous. And yeah, I acted like a damn guard dog.” He admits and pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers. For a few seconds, he stays silent, and you furrow your brows.

“But why, for the love of god? And is talking to me a good enough reason to almost kill a guy?!”

“This guy is one of the shittiest people I’ve ever met, and your history with him doesn’t fucking change that!” He’s standing straight now, every muscle in his body tense, and he looks like he’s about to punch something to release some of it. “Still, no, that’s not a good enough reason. But this fucker is talking shit about my girl, how he’s going to ‘ruin your pretty body again’ and how he misses how easily you bruise ‘cause he can mark you, is.”

“W-what?” Sukuna is taking deep breaths to calm himself down while you try to process what he just said. ‘My girl,’ ‘ruin your pretty body again’…

“That’s fucking why, y/n. I don’t care that you’ve slept with this fucker in the past. But if he ever tries to touch you when you’re mine, I’ll rip his damn arms off. And I won’t fucking regret it for even a second.”

“Mine?” You ask quietly, looking into his crimson eyes like they alone could give you answers to so many questions you have right now. At the same time, you can’t put the words together to even ask one.

“Yeah. Mine.” Sukuna nods and takes a step closer.

“Since fucking when? And don’t tell me you’ve just decided, ‘cause if that’s just your stupid testosterone ass talking, I might actually punch you.” You groan and rub your temples, feeling overwhelmed.

First, your ex-(boy)friend turns out to be an ass; now your current (boy)friend has an enlightenment moment about your relationship? What’s next? Yuki goes to the church? Choso wears colors?

“Of course not, who do you think I am, doll?” He looks actually offended, and a part of you wants to laugh. “You’ve been mine since the first time you’ve put on my jersey. I thought that was obvious?”

And you’re laughing.

“What the actual fuck, Kuna? That was like eight months ago. You’ve never thought that I don’t know, we should maybe fucking talk about it? Like adults do?”

“You clearly have a mouth that I know can do a lot more than talking. Why didn’t you say anything either?” You brush away the hair that fell onto your face during the laughing fit and sigh.

“Because you’re the Ryomen Sukuna. You’ve been here only a year longer than me, and you’ve already had a reputation when we met. The first thing I learned about you, other than your name, was that you don’t do relationships.” Either you’re losing your mind or Sukuna is nervous. No, he’s definitely nervous, biting his cheek from the inside.

“I’ve been ‘doing a relationship’ with you for almost a year now, y/n. Yeah, okay, we should’ve talked about it, but I thought I was pretty clear with… my actions, for example? Damn it, woman. We cuddle! I can count on one hand how many people I’ve cuddled with.” You bite your lip to stop the laugh that’s trying to escape because Sukuna, THE Sukuna, always so calm and stoic, is gesticulating. “What’s so fucking funny?”

“It’s just… I haven’t seen you this emotional about anything ever, I think.” Hearing that, he’s back to crossing his arms and furrowing brows at you.

“Sure, laugh at your man being emotional. That’s called a stereotype, and it’s hurtful, doll.” He has a point, obviously, but there’s a soft smile on his lips, and you can only focus on one thing he said.

“My man?” You take a step towards him and lean your head back a little to maintain eye contact.

“Um, yeah? That comes in a pack, doesn’t it? If you’re mine, then I’m yours, y/n. I’m not into polygamy.” Sukuna sighs for the nth time tonight and moves his hands to your hips finally. He can almost feel how just touching you soothes his nerves.

“Say that again.” You whisper, resting your palms on his chest, the warmth of his skin spreading throughout your body, even if you only feel it through the t-shirt material.

“I’m yours, weirdo. I’ve been for a long time now.” As amused as Sukuna is about your reaction, he finds that wide smile on your face adorable.

“Damn, you’re actually serious. And all it took was an idiot talking shit about me? Wild.” You can’t help but laugh and shake your head a little at how stupid this situation is.

“I’m kind of opening my heart to you, and you bring up this fucker again? Seriously?”

“Sorry.” You take a deep breath in and caress his cheek with your thumb, careful about the bruise that’s forming around his brow and cheekbone. “So I can actually tell people that you’re my boyfriend now?”

“You haven’t before? Wait, what have you been telling people?”

“Um… that were really good friends? You?”

“Everyone knows you’re my girl, doll. I didn’t even have to say it. But I did, just to be clear, you know.”

“So half of this campus knew we were together before me? So romantic.”

[haartemis]

THE ALCHEMY | PART V

pairing: kylian mbappe x fem!reader

word count: 5.1k

warnings: smut

summary: working at real madrid is a dream come true— until kylian mbappe, football's biggest star and the last person you ever want to see, joins the club. as tensions rise between you two and the lines between frustration and fascination blur, you wonder: can you truly resist the man you've sworn to hate?

A/N: apologies for the delay, had a serious case of writer's block and tbh i don't feel like this is my best work but alas 🥲. lmk what yall think!!

"see that cafe? that’s where my first girlfriend dumped me" kylian points to the establishment across the street, swirling the ice in his glass.

you squint, not missing a beat. "what a queen"

"says the girl who sleeps in my bed three nights a week" he says, grinning. "you’ve got no ground to stand on"

you can't even come up with a retort - because, honestly, what could you say to that? he’s completely right. so instead, you grab a napkin and throw it across the table at him.

"it's two nights actually" you mumble under your breath as he expertly dodges the napkin. 

"yes, two" he corrects. "last week it was three though"

"yes, but usually it's two, so-"

"it's three nights we’re together anyway, if you count the night i sleep at your place" he says smugly.

you just give him a deadpan look, defeated.

"what?" he winks. "i keep track of everything on my calendar"

it’s true. kylian is intentional with his time. he has to be. his days are usually planned to the minute. sometimes, his schedule is packed so tight there’s barely room to breathe, let alone time for himself. so when he does have free time - real, uninterrupted time - he doesn’t waste it. he spends it with purpose.

these days, that purpose is you.

right now, it's him whisking you away on a weekend getaway to monaco, the place he spent most of his adolescence in, the one that still holds a special place in his heart. you're seated on the terrace of his favorite restaurant here. it's dusk, and the sky is painted in a swathe of beautiful dark blue. in the distance, you can hear the hum of yachts and the occasional rev of an engine. monaco, in all its grandeur. kylian’s monaco.

he’s sitting across from you wearing a white shirt, slightly unbuttoned, a silver dior chain peeking through, and a barely noticeable sheen of sweat on his tanned brown skin. his phone is flipped over on the table, gaze locked on you, fully focused and unwavering, because again, he’s intentional.

"why did she dump you then?" you take a sip of your water.

"i was moving to paris" he shrugs. "didn’t want to do long distance. it was mutual, really. we both knew it wouldn’t work"

"oh i bet you were relieved" you say, laughing, but there’s tension underneath that you’re trying to hide. "probably counting down the days till you could be in your fuckboy era"

"no" he says with a frown. "that was my first heartbreak"

you scoff instinctively, but the light fading from his eyes makes you regret it immediately. there’s something unexpectedly earnest in his face, and you wish you could take back your words, or at least make them sound less tactless.

“i meant..” you laugh awkwardly. “i guess it’s hard to imagine you being heartbroken, it’s easier to picture you as the heartbreaker” 

as soon as the words leave your mouth you realize you’ve made it worse. 

he studies you for a moment, swirling the ice in his glass again.

"we should go" kylian says after a few moments of awkward silence where you’re cringing internally at your blunder. he pointedly avoids your gaze. "paps are bound to show up soon"

back at his house, neither of you says much, the heat of the day leaving you both sluggish. yet the air between you is brimming with something unsaid, something unresolved. eventually, wordlessly, you step into the shower together, letting the water rinse the day away.

you hum absently, lost in the sensation of warmth, of his presence, of the way kylian’s hands settle lightly on your hips as if anchoring himself. his fingers trace lazy patterns on your skin, sending a shiver through you despite the heat of the water.

"i was actually heartbroken, you know" he says suddenly, and you stiffen.

"it hurt a little, the way you were dismissive" he continues.

kylian lifts a hand, fingertips ghosting against your arm before tucking a damp curl back into the loose pineapple ponytail atop your head. your stomach churns with guilt, but you don’t respond.

the silence stretches until he speaks again. "do you still not trust me?"

you turn to face him then. the water is beading against his skin, clinging to his lashes in delicate droplets. his deep brown eyes search yours, unguarded and vulnerable in a way that makes your chest tighten. 

you think back to years ago, when the only version of him you knew was the one on your tv screen. back then, you’d thought the phrase ‘everything is uglier up close’ was especially true for celebrities, who you’d always heard lost their polish and perfection in mundane, everyday life, revealing themselves to be just as ordinary as everyone else. but here, in the middle of the intimate activity of showering together, you realize that can't be more false. kylian doesn’t hold the same carefully controlled presence he does in public, yes, but he’s beautiful. breathtakingly beautiful, in a way that makes you feel like your heart might burst if you think about it too much. 

"no, i do" you murmur reassuringly. "of course i do. i'm sorry i reacted that way. i guess... old habits die hard"

his gaze lingers on you, assessing, as if weighing the truth in your words. a quiet exhale escapes him, almost like relief, and he pulls you into his arms. chest to chest, the heat of his skin against yours, the steady rush of water cascading over you both. your hands skim up the hard ridges of his spine, feeling the way he relaxes under your touch. his lips find your temple, a soft brush that speaks of the adoration he has for you.

"we can’t keep going in circles" he murmurs against your forehead, and you know he’s right.

afterward, you lie in bed together, legs tangled in the sheets. kylian sleeps soundly beside you, his arm draped over your waist, the steady rise and fall of his breathing the only sound in the room. he holds you close even in sleep, almost instinctively.

you, on the other hand, are wide awake, your mind restless, thoughts spiraling in endless loops.

you’re self-aware enough to know that your earlier reaction, the thoughtless way you brushed him off, came from a place of hesitation. a tiny part of you, buried deep but still present, is still wary. old habits really do die hard.

it doesn’t help that you’re seeing each other, but you haven’t defined what that really means. your first date in paris has come and gone, and there’s an unspoken understanding that you like each other, that this is something. but nothing has been made official. no labels as of yet.

still, the man is practically cohabitating in your space. just last week, he ordered a playstation console just for your apartment. you’ve started leaving clothes at his place, your yoga mat tucked in the corner of his bedroom like it belongs there. you spend so much time together, wrapped up in each other’s lives. sneakily, without you even realizing it, he’s become your best friend. 

and now, lying here in the dark, with the warmth of his body against yours, you realize - you want to be his girlfriend. really be his.

yes, his life is very complicated. yes, it would mean stepping into a world that isn’t always kind. but you like him. more than that: you want him. and you want him to want this, too. but the problem is, you don’t know if he does. the thought has been lodged in your head for a while now, and sometimes, the part of you that’s a tiny bit insecure wonders if you’d inadvertently gotten yourself into a situationship, if  just you’re a placeholder in his bed until he gets bored of you and he moves on to someone new. 

you stir awake early the next morning to the sound of kylian’s voice, low and murmuring into the phone. for a moment, the only thing you can focus on is how sexy he sounds with his groggy, just-woke-up morning voice. 

he notices you stirring and shoots you a small smile, but it fades almost instantly as the person on the other end speaks. he lets out a quiet groan in frustration.

"are you sure we can't do this another time?" he says, thumb running over the pendant of the necklace he gave you as you snuggle closer. 

a pause. his brows knit together. "yes, i'm upset" he replies. "this whole weekend was meant for me and y/n. i specifically asked you not to schedule anything. you know what i had planned for tonight specifically, i-” he stops, biting his tongue. his eyes nervously flicker to you, as if checking for something. 

another pause. he sighs. "i know it's not your fault”

after a while, he finally hangs up, exhaling sharply as he tosses his phone onto the mattress. you watch as he rubs a hand over his face, the tension in him unmistakable.

"i have to go to caen” he says after a beat, turning to face you. "i need to meet with the new coach and the team. something came up, and they need me there in person"

you yawn, still caught in the haze of sleep. "caen" you repeat, processing. cm caen - the club he owns. of course. 

"yeah" he sighs, rolling onto his side to face you properly. "i'm really sorry. i didn’t plan for this, but i have to handle it" his fingers find yours beneath the sheets, tracing over your knuckles. "i wanted this weekend to be just us”

disappointment washes over you. you’d both had a long, exhausting week - him with training and a match, you adjusting to your new job. time together has been scarce, and this trip was supposed to be a chance to just be with each other without interruptions. something that’s  starting to feel more and more like a luxury. last night, you even decided you were finally going to bring up the “what are we?” conversation today. but now the weekend is getting cut short, because he has to get on a stupid plane, to fly across the stupid country, to deal with his stupid clu–

"come with me," he says suddenly, like the thought has only just occurred to him.

“to caen?” you scrunch your nose. "wouldn't that be a bit unprofessional? me tagging along on your business trip?"

he smirks as he hops out of bed. "my club, my rules. i can bring whoever i want"

your brain short-circuits slightly at the sight of him, all long limbs and sculpted muscles. he’s standing in nothing but his boxers, which hang low on his hips and draw attention to the sharp v-line cutting down his abdomen. your hands itch to slide the fabric lower, to reveal what’s underneath.

"right," you murmur, dragging your gaze back up. "and what exactly will you be doing there?"

he shrugs, already moving between the closet and the bed, laying out his clothes for the day. "mostly talking to the players and management. rallying the troops, boosting morale. making sure everything's running smoothly"

you snort. "rallying the troops?"

he grins, dimples flashing. "what? i can be very persuasive"

"mhmm" you hum, unimpressed.

he disappears into the bathroom, and a second later, you hear the water turn on. "so, you coming?" his voice carries over the running shower. "or do you wanna stay? pool’s nice here, you know, the jacuzzi is even better” he says, then sighs dramatically. "shame i won’t be around to see you in a bikini, but hey, can’t have it all"

"no,i’ll come" you interrupt, already swinging your legs over the bed.

"perfect" he says. then, teasingly "come in here, the water’s nice. i’ll rub your back the way you like"

you don’t need to be told twice.

club president kylian is different from regular kylian in the way he carries himself. his voice is  a touch deeper and subtly authoritative, his gestures more deliberate, his posture straighter, like a man who knows he’s in charge. but club president kylian is also very much the same as regular kylian in one particular way - he keeps a possessive hand on your lower back at all times during the introductory meeting with staff. 

the introductions give you an odd sense of deja vu, and for a while, you can’t figure out why. then it clicks - your first meeting with kylian at the real madrid offices. the coffee stained white shirt, your less than subtle jabs at him, the way he’d pretended to forget your name even though your boss had (re)introduced you properly.

funny, really. because right now, you catch the briefest flicker of panic in his eyes as he actually forgets someone’s name. the kitman, standing right in front of him, who had been introduced to him barely an hour ago.

kylian prides himself on his memory, because it’s one of the things he’s obnoxiously good at. which makes this moment even more entertaining, considering you (who admittedly have been half dissociating through most of this meeting) still remember that the guy’s name is hugo.

you watch, thoroughly amused, as kylian stumbles over his words, realizing too late that he’s blanking. then he subtly flicks his gaze to you in silent plea, as if saying help me out here.

you simply raise an innocent eyebrow, offering no lifeline. and with no other choice, he  awkwardly continues the conversation while skillfully avoiding using the poor guy’s name.

when hugo finally walks away, you lean into kylian’s side, fighting the urge to laugh. “it was hugo, by the way”

“yeah thanks for nothing” kylian says through gritted teeth, fake smile plastered on his face. 

you grin. “anytime, président”

a little while later, you and kylian find yourselves in conversation with the new coach, casual small talk filling the gaps before the two of them sit down and get into the real discussion. the coach mentions his love for camembert cheese and how cheese making has been a long time hobby of his, one that has recently turned into a small business. 

kylian, ever eager to engage, nods along. “oh yeah, i love camembert. one of my favorites”

you blink. “really?” your voice is all innocent curiosity, but the glint in your eyes says otherwise. “i thought you said you hated it. something about the smell being too strong?"

he shoots you a sharp look, subtle but immediate. the coach chuckles and graciously makes a passing comment about camembert being an acquired taste, but kylian’s focus is solely on you. his fingers tighten slightly on your back, just enough for you to notice.

“that was years ago” he says smoothly, not missing a beat. “tastes change”

you nod slightly, unconvinced, but drop it.

his hand lowers to your ass, fingers squeezing for just a second before sliding back up to your back. the touch is quick and discreet, but you know it’s a warning. somehow, that only spurs you on.

“you told me that two months ago, actually” you blurt. from the corner of your eye, you catch kylian’s assistant look at the ground, trying not to laugh. 

kylian's eyes narrowing slightly. you can practically see the gears turning in his head, trying to remember whatever damning statement he made about camembert two months ago.

"did i?" he asks, voice light.

you nod, feigning innocence. "mmhmm. you said, and i quote, ‘it smells and tastes like feet, people who like this stuff need their taste buds snatched away from them’"

a small, strangled sound comes from his assistant, who’s still avoiding eye contact. the coach chuckles, amused. kylian, on the other hand, is less entertained.

“i..don’t really recall saying that” he finally chuckles awkwardly.

"funny how your taste changes when you're trying to impress people" you murmur under your breath, just for him to hear.

he exhales sharply through his nose, shifting on his feet. "careful" he warns, voice low.

you merely smile.

you keep going, intentionally ramping up the awkwardness in every interaction he has with his staff members. when one of the team nutritionists curiously asks if you’re his girlfriend, you simply turn to kylian and leave him in the hot seat. he stammers through half a sentence before awkwardly changing the subject. when another staff member comments on his surprising punctuality for the meeting, you seize the moment to casually remark (loud enough for everyone to hear) that he was irritatingly late the first time he visited the real madrid offices.

and when his assistant hands him a folder and absentmindedly says “don’t lose this please”, you gasp theatrically, turning to kylian with wide eyes. “wait, you actually read documents before signing them? that’s new”

kylian only clears his throat.

when it’s time to speak to the players, the coach mentions that they’ve just finished training and are in the locker room. there’s an unspoken understanding that you won’t be joining for the pep talk, and you have no intention of protesting, because honestly you have zero desire to be in a room filled with sweat and testosterone. kylian’s face immediately lights up in relief too, as if he’s thanking his lucky stars you won’t be able to embarrass him any more. it makes you smile. 

before you know it, the locker room talk is over, and so is the trip. you hop on the plane, and just like that, you’re back in madrid. a small part of you wonders if you should feel overwhelmed, maybe even be put off by kylian’s lifestyle. after all, how many 26 year olds spend their sundays flying across the country to check in on the football club they own ? how many times has kylian pushed aside the needs of his personal life to attend to his professional one? 

but the truth is, you’re not put off at all. if anything, you’re grateful for the glimpse into this side of him, for the way his relentless ambition makes him even more attractive to you, and most of all, for the opportunity to get under his skin. yes, especially that last part.

when you get to kylian’s house, he’s understandably exhausted after a full day of nonstop conversations and meetings. there’s no need for words; you both fall into a comfortable quiet, the kind that comes naturally after spending enough time with someone.

the evening starts innocently. the tv plays softly in the background, tuned into your favorite reality show, though neither of you are really paying attention. kylian is stretched out on the bed, his head resting in your lap, eyes fluttering shut as your fingers move idly over his scalp. he hums in relaxation, the tension from the day slowly melting away under your touch.

his breathing evens, his body growing heavier against you, and for a moment, you think he might have fallen asleep. but then, without opening his eyes, he murmurs, “you had fun annoying me today, didn’t you?”

you grin, nails scratching lightly at the nape of his neck. “i don’t know what you’re talking about”

he lets out a quiet laugh as his fingers tighten softly against your thigh. “you’re lucky i was too busy to deal with you properly” he muses, voice low and drowsy.

you tilt your head. “oh? and what exactly would dealing with me properly look like?”

you reach for the remote to turn off the tv, the movement causing your camisole to dip just enough to give him a perfect view of your braless cleavage. from where his head rests on your thigh, kylian’s gaze flickers downward shamelessly. 

his exhaustion seems to evaporate in real time, because suddenly he lifts his head from your lap and grabs your waist, effortlessly laying down on the bed properly and hovering over you. 

you barely have a second to breathe before his lips are on yours, hot and demanding. 

“two months ago” he murmurs against your lips, voice dripping with mockery “you told me that two months ago”

“just keeping you honest” you murmur, savoring the feeling of his mouth on yours. 

he starts nipping at your bottom lip before dragging his mouth down your jaw, your neck, making his way lower.

his hands are everywhere at once. palming your waist, slipping beneath the hem of your camisole, spreading warmth across your skin with each touch. his mouth follows the path his hands don’t take, lips pressing open mouthed kisses down your chest.

"you love running that mouth don’t you?" he murmurs, breath hot against your skin. he moves back up to scrape his teeth lightly over where your pulse is, making you shiver. "love embarrassing me in front of my staff"

you can’t even pretend to deny it, not when his hands are pushing your shorts down your hips, and his voice is low and possessive, just the way you like it. 

"didn’t think you’d mind" you tease, albeit in a breathy and uneven voice.

kylian chuckles, lips pressing against the sensitive skin just below your ear. " no i don’t mind" his fingers tighten around your thighs, spreading them apart effortlessly. "might like it actually, because when you get on my nerves i always want to fuck you right after"

and then he palms you through your underwear, hand cupping you possessively before he drags his fingers over the damp fabric of your underwear, just barely applying pressure, enough to have you arching into his touch instinctively.

you make a sound of protest as he increases the pressure, something between a whine and a sigh, but kylian just chuckles, pressing a kiss to your jaw before pulling back slightly, his fingers still tracing slow, torturous circles over you.

“what’s wrong?” he says smugly. “why so quiet now?”

you don’t reply, at least not with words. instead, you guide his wrist from your crotch to the hem of your camisole. he gets the hint and he quickly tugs the top off you.  his breath hitches, eyes darkening as they flicker over your bare skin. you’ve done this a hundred times, maybe more, but it still knocks him off balance. still makes him pause, like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again.

his hands find your waist, thumbs brushing over your ribs as he leans in, pressing an open-mouthed kiss between your breasts before tilting his head up to meet your gaze.

“i want to be on top” you say, fingers tightening around his shoulder in anticipation. 

“no, you’ll get tired eventually” he says conversationally as he slides your panties down and tosses them aside.  

“are you saying i’m weak?”

he rolls his eyes. “no, i’m just saying you’ll get tired”

you don’t give him the chance to argue further. you just grab his face and kiss him, slow and deep, swallowing whatever smug remark he was about to make. he groans into your mouth, momentarily distracted, and that’s all the opening you need.

with a swift shift of your weight, you flip yourselves over, catching him off guard as his back meets the mattress. he blinks up at you, startled, and you can’t help the triumphant smirk that grows on your lips.

“you were saying?” you tease, settling over him.

he exhales a sharp breath in frustration, hands gripping your hips. then a slow  grin spreads across his face. “fine. you're feeling obstinate today” he says, fingers trailing up your spine. “let’s see how long you last”

in no time, you strip off his boxers and guide him to where you want him, lining him up to enter you. but before you let him in, you drag him against your folds, slow and deliberate, letting the anticipation build. back and forth, again and again, until he lets out an impatient groan, his grip on your hips tightening.

you only smirk, rolling your hips just enough to keep him on edge. “what’s the rush?” you murmur, leaning down to press a teasing kiss to his lips.

he exhales sharply, and before you can push him any further, he tightens his grip and thrusts up, burying himself inside you in one smooth motion.

a sharp gasp escapes your lips, your fingers clutching his shoulders as your body adjusts, stretching to take him in. his head falls back against the pillow, a low, guttural “putain” spilling from his mouth as he sinks deeper, reveling in the way you wrap around him.

and then you start moving. slowly at first, because you don’t want to expend all your energy at once. but an impatient tap on your ass from kylian lets you know he’s not satisfied, so you pick up the pace and set a steady rhythm. he feels good, really good. and you know you feel good too, just by the way he’s fighting not to squeeze his eyes shut, by the way his mouth is slightly parted and  letting out quiet grunts, the way his hands can’t decide whether to stay on your hips, grab your ass, or squeeze your breasts. it makes you feel powerful. 

soon enough your thighs begin to burn, muscles straining under the effort. you try to push through it, but the ache grows too much to ignore. the pace falters, and you finally slow, catching your breath.

kylian pulls out and flips you over. you groan in frustration, missing the sensation of being full of him.

“i fucking told you so” he says as he diligently arranges a pillow for your lower back.  he’s nothing if not an attentive lover. “sometimes just do as i say”

when you’re positioned in a way where the angle is just right, he slips back into you with a hiss. 

he immediately starts pounding into you, the pace so quick and powerful it makes your movements while you were riding him feel like a snail’s pace. your hands grip his back for dear life, moans spilling out of your mouth almost involuntarily.  

he stills for a moment, a shudder running through him briefly before spilling into you. you follow suit straight after, a wave of toe curling pleasure washing over you. it’s so profound, it makes your ears ring. what happens next, though, punches through any heightened sensations:

“i think i love you”  kylian says into the crook of your neck as he collapses onto you.

the audacity of this man.

“think?” you snap. “don’t open your mouth if you’re not sure, kylian”

his breath is still uneven against your skin, body warm and yielding against yours, but your words make him lift his head.

he bursts out laughing. “you’re unbelievable”

“semantics matter” you say seriously. “you either love me or you don’t”

his fingers trace slow patterns against your thigh, arching his brows at you with an amused look. then, with that same infuriating certainty he always carries, he leans in and kisses you. 

“i love you” he corrects as he pulls away. “ i know i love you. never been more certain of anything, actually”

your heart stumbles over itself at his words, your grip on his shoulders tightening instinctively. suddenly, you’re hyperaware of the way he’s looking at you, waiting. you could tease him, make him sweat a little, but for once, you decide against it.

“good” you whisper. “i love you too”

“good” he repeats playfully as he carefully pulls out of you, settling next to you with a satisfied sigh. 

a contemplative silence settles over you, until he blurts: “this isn’t the way i’d planned to say it you know”

“what do you mean?”

“i had this whole dinner planned for tonight” he starts, voice quieter now. “romantic and everything. I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend” he clears his throat, like saying it out loud makes him self conscious. “but then caen happened, and-” he shakes his head, laughing softly, almost to himself.

“you should know…this is how it is with me” he continues. “my life is crazy. plans change, things come up, and I don’t - I don’t know if i can be the perfect partner, at least not in the traditional sense. i can’t always be there, physically. my career takes up so much of my time. and to be honest i think, deep down, I was afraid that might scare you off”

he sighs as you turn on your side so you’re face to face. “I was meant to say all of this at dinner, explain it properly. but I guess I’ll just say it now. i love you” he pauses, as if gathering his thoughts. “you’re my favorite person, and if we’re really going to be together, because i want to and i really hope you do too, i swear i’ll do everything in my power to make it work. but I won’t lie to you, it won’t always be easy. there will be things you’ll have to sacrifice. your privacy. maybe even your sanity sometimes” his lips twitch, but his eyes stay serious. “and I know that’s a lot to ask. but even with all that… do you want to do this with me?”

the second the words leave him, he exhales deeply, like he’s been holding them in for too long. 

you don’t respond for a few seconds, processing his words. then, finally, you chuckle. “If i’d known all of this, i would’ve been much nicer to you at caen” 

kylian playfully kicks your leg under the sheets. “i knew you were pissed about something” 

“i was” you admit.  “i thought we were in this weird limbo, and i didn’t want it to be like that”

“i get it” he assures, hands softly stroking your cheeks. “i wish i was more communicative with you”

“me too” you murmur. “and by the way, i do want to do this with you. you’re worth it to me. you’re worth whatever craziness comes with being with you”

your gaze drops to his lips which are still slightly swollen, glistening and unbearably tempting. and as if drawn by some invisible force, you lean in and kiss him. it’s slow, languid, unhurried, the kind of kiss that lingers and stretches time. you wonder how many evenings like this you have to look forward to - ones spent wrapped up in each other, basking in the quiet intimacy of just being. The thought fills you with something light, an overwhelming feeling of excitement. 

when you finally pull back, you give him a pointed look. “don’t think you’re off the hook. i expect that romantic dinner to be postponed, not canceled”

kylian brushes his lips against yours again, already chasing more. “never said otherwise”

“i have conditions too” you say in between kisses. “if you want me to be your girlfriend” 

“and what are they?” he chuckles. 

“first of all, you need to get a driver’s license” you say in a serious tone, even though your eyes betray that you’re joking. “i can’t have a boyfriend that can’t drive. like optics wise, that’s kind of embarrassing for me. sorry” 

“right” he huffs out a laugh. “what would people say?”

“exactly” you deadpan. 

“ok. driver’s license. noted” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours. “anything else?”

“TBD” you say. kylian gives you a mock-understanding nod, playing along.  you fall into a spell of silence for a bit, the only sound being your heartbeats drumming in tandem.

“why did your bodyguard lie about your height?” you suddenly ask.

“huh?” he sounds taken aback at the unexpected question.

“the night we met, your bodyguard said you’re 6 feet tall”

he shrugs. “i don’t know. maybe he thought he was doing me a favor” he laughs. “but it clearly didn’t work”

“didn’t matter anyway, i still ended up sleeping with you, didn't i?” you say, shaking your head. “and i know we got off on the wrong foot, but i’m still grateful, you know”

he kisses your forehead lovingly. “good. because you’re stuck with me now”

a sense of serenity washes over you at his words because, you know, deep in your bones,  you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

THE END

tags: @idontknowwhatthisvis555 @nowrosesaredead @iuoiyr @acarolnzinhaa-03 @ynkfreeastheocean @scottishthistle @user6373738 @loonworld @whateveryouloser @greyishbach @ajsboys @kyliansonlygf @lucysantos6-blog @tuliptopiasstuff @kennasutopia @cinderellawithashoe @akiracim @kymb-10 @germanapples @heartbreakylian @ishaaglobus2002 @flawlessdiamond1 @ouiouibaguettei @kylianmb9 @peaceiswonderful @maricciardo @monodolan @borikenlovee @rmadridcore @nngkay

[alwaysthebiggerbear]

"You're safe now, I'm here." - Soldier Boy x Female Reader

Summary: Soldier Boy has been on a ton of dangerous missions in his time, fought a lot of battles, but never did he imagine he would be undertaking the one you had just tasked him with. Shit.

A/N: This is a prompt from @sydnee-kom-spacekru. A sort of sequel to the prompt response for “Sleep. I’ll keep you safe.” Been working on this since 1/3/24. I had way too much fun with this one. Unbeta’d so all mistakes are mine. Warnings: Soldier Boy being himself; some misogyny; some homophobic language; some antiquated thinking (SB); angst; a lot of mentions of shit (yes, literal shit); language (I guess?); some smut; mention of breeding kink; a bit of a lactation kink (I know they did the Coke and milk thing in the show but you can’t tell me he wouldn’t have at least been on the verge of this kink if the opportunity arose) Word Count: 11k+ First posted on here: 5/12/24 dividers by @firefly-graphics

Ben let out an aggravated sigh for what felt like the fortieth time and turned back to the table, his nose wrinkled. He glanced down and saw his daughter’s wide eyes watching him as she kicked her little legs, slobbering all over the fingers of one hand she had in her mouth. He made a face and shook his head, remembering when he told her “You’re lucky you’re cute, kid”, when she’d done the same thing about an hour before. He didn’t know what was so tasty about those fingers especially when there were other tastier options available. 

Speaking of which, you just had to pick the fucking perfect time to do your pumping shit so he would be stuck doing this shit, in the literal sense of the word. Ben thought he’d been on dangerous missions before but nothing ever made him want to retreat in the other direction more than the one he was about to embark on. The smell wafted up to him once more as the baby kicked her legs again.

“Christ, this kid fucking stinks.”

“Language!”

He rolled his eyes and glanced back over his shoulder, though he couldn’t see you. “It’s not like she understands what the fuck I’m saying!”

“Ben! We talked about this!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, turning back to his little girl. “No cursing around the baby,” he mocked you in a high voice, smirking when a small smile formed on her face.

Another wave hit him and he held a hand up to his nose. “Are you almost done in there?” He complained.

“No! I still have a little more to go.” He knew that; he could hear the machine still making its weird noises almost as if it was next to his ear. He hated and loved that thing. Hated it because it was so damn loud to his ears and it ruined a perfectly sexy image in his head when he first saw you doing it. Loved it because it was helping your body do one of the natural things it was designed to do and it also allowed him to get some one on one time with you out of the house for the occasional few hours if you could get Elena or Queen Lesbo to babysit. As a matter of fact, as harsh as the sounds were and how unsexy it was, it got him downright hard sometimes when he thought of either scenario because both brought it all back to sex for him. Either he was daydreaming about fucking another baby into you while watching you or he was thinking about how he was going to be fucking you later that evening when the two of you were alone. This time, though, it was going to be neither. 

You were getting ready to go out to have lunch with Elena, have some girl time or some shit. Whatever the fuck that meant. It certainly wasn’t what he’d been thinking the first time you mentioned it, which to him was a complete fucking wasted opportunity. He wasn’t into Elena at all or The One-Eyed Bitch Queen but he was definitely into seeing you get off. Just as long as it wasn’t another guy, he was good with it. But instead, his hopes had been dashed when your expression of disgust transformed into you pinching the bridge of your nose and explaining what girl time for you actually meant. His annoyance grew (and his nerves skyrocketed though he would never tell you that) when you mentioned he would be the one babysitting this time. He wasn’t happy but neither were you and when it came down to it, you were the victor of that argument.  

And now he had this shit on top of it, pun very much fucking intended. Needless to say, Ben was beyond done at this point.    

“Just change the diaper already,” you urged, your tone strained with the last threads of patience. “The longer she stays in her own mess, the more likely she is to get a rash and possible infection. Then she will be in pain and she’ll have to see the doctor. We don’t want that to happen. I’ve told you this time and time again and I’ve shown you how to do it. No more excuses, Ben. Just change it.”

Ben could feel his ire rising. “So you want me to do what you should be doing? I’m not the goddamn woman here!” He regretted it as soon as he said it. He heard you turn the machine off and he knew he was in for it now.

“What did you just say?” He heard you ask menacingly from the other room. Oh fuck. He knew he had about ten seconds to turn this around or the rest of the day and night were going to be shit. Worse than the actual shit he was smelling. He’d be lucky if he’d be able to sit next to you at the table later at dinner, never mind touch you again for the next few days.

“Nothing,” he grumbled, pulling a new diaper from the open package next to him and glancing down at the squirming baby in front of him. He was relieved when he heard the machine start up again and leaned over the table to lay down the law to his daughter. “Alright, look, kid, we gotta make some sort of deal here. You can’t be shitting up a storm and stinking up the place while your mother is out. Piss I can deal with. Puke, bad but doable. Shit…no fucking way.” He began to unbutton her onesie, screwing up his face in disgust as the smell slapped him in the face. “So if you really care about your old man and you want him to be happy, you’ll stop shitting all over the goddamn place. Got it?”

The baby gurgled back at him and he saw more drool coming out of her little mouth. 

Ben shook his head, giving her a sharp look. The least she could do was not look so happy about him having to do this for her. He gently pulled her legs out of the onesie as you’d shown him how to do (he ripped one too many the first week she was home) and he frowned when he saw a damp brown stain, the smell becoming even worse. He lifted her legs and as he’d suspected, the shit was fucking everywhere, having catapulted past the edge of the diaper and down her back. He briefly shut his eyes and looked away, groaning loudly, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” He attempted to take a breath that didn’t smell like he was wading around in the worst shit someone ever took. Like he was that little bastard Termite and he’d shot too far off the mark. 

“Now what?” You yelled back.

“She shit everywhere! It’s all up and down her back.” He looked back down at his daughter. “Really?” Another gurgle. “Christ.”

“Yeah, because she’s been sitting in a full diaper for the last thirty minutes while you’ve been non-stop complaining about it, that’s why! Just get her cleaned up and into a new diaper, some new clothes, and then put her in her bouncy chair so you can clean the table. Or if you’re feeling adventurous, give her a bath. A bath is probably better.”

“Why don’t you come in here and fucking handle it then? I’ve told you, my sense of smell is about ten times what yours is!”

You huffed out an aggravated breath. “Because you have to learn how to take care of her, Ben! You’re her father for God’s sake. You should be able to handle one damn diaper change without being a child about it! What if I wasn’t here anymore? You’d be the one doing it all then.”

He straightened up at that, glaring back in your direction. “What do you mean if you weren’t here? Where the fuck would you go?”

“Language, Ben! Jesus!”

His jaw clenched and he turned back to grab a fresh wipe or five. He bunched them up in his hand and lifted the baby’s legs and began to wipe. There was so much shit, the wipes were filled instantly and it got onto his hand. “Fucking hell!” His daughter’s smile faded and she began to look as if she were about to cry. 

“What now?” You snapped. 

“It’s all over my goddamn hand, that’s what!” He bellowed.

“Well, wipe it off, get her cleaned up, then wash your hands.” There was no compassion in your tone, only irritation.

Ben should have shut the fuck up right then and there, and just done what you’d tasked him with. But, he was fucking done and livid at your obvious lack of sympathy. “This isn’t my fucking job! It’s yours! You should be doing this! Real men don’t change their kid’s shitty diaper! Women do!” 

The machine shut off again but this time, Ben didn’t give a fuck. He’d had it. He knew you’d be pissed at what he’d just said but too fucking bad. It was true, whether you liked it or not. No matter what today’s society had to say or not. Women were the caregivers, the nurturers or whatever the fuck he’d heard on that bald-headed doctor’s show the other day, the givers of life or some shit. Real men did their job in making the kid, being the father, and putting food on the table for his family while also providing a roof over their heads. That’s how it always worked and that’s how it should still be today. He’d done his job: he’d protected you, knocked you up with his kid, and stuck around to be its father, even after finding out it wasn’t going to be the son he’d initially hoped for. And here you were, trying to get him to fucking play Mr. Mom so you could go out for a few hours and get some girl time that wasn’t even going to reap any benefits for him after you’d left the kid with him all afternoon? No fucking way. His jaw tightened as he heard you approaching quickly. He didn’t care how pissed you were; he wasn’t backing down. 

But just then, the baby began to cry, having been scared by him yelling angrily (and probably because she was wet and uncomfortable and had been for some time now). He glanced down at her, his jaw unclenching and his features softening slightly. Fuck no. Ben could withstand a lot of shit (minus actual shit), and not a lot affected him, but his daughter’s cries? And because of him? That was his kryptonite. “No, no, no. Don’t cry, Princess. Daddy’s sorry he yelled, okay? He didn’t mean to scare you,” he quietly soothed. He went to pick her up to hold her, forgetting that she had shit all over her, and he only realized it when it dripped all down the front of his shirt and his hands and arms were covered with it as he balanced her against his chest. “Ahhh shit!” The baby began to cry louder.

You appeared, the top of your dress fixed and buttoned, a furious expression on your face. You held out your hands. “ You’re safe now, I’m here ,” you spat. “Give her to me.” 

Ben glared down at you. He had been spoiling for a fight a moment ago but after the baby started to cry, some of the fury went out of him, and apparently right into you it looked like. “Listen, don’t get all pissy because—”

“I said,” you snapped. “Give her to me.”

Ben shot you a look but did as you said. He watched as you got shit all over you but you didn’t even flinch. Instead, you snatched the fresh diaper from the table and unfolded it to place behind your daughter’s poop chute before grabbing the canister of fresh wipes and a towel. You didn’t even look at him as you passed by him to head into the bathroom. Fuck, he was definitely in trouble.

He grimaced down at his messy shirt and removed it, balling it up and throwing it into the baby’s laundry basket. He made his way to the open door of the bathroom, stepping in to wash his hands and forearms at the sink as he watched you in the mirror, sitting on the edge of the tub and filling it with water, the baby’s own tub inside it. You were cooing at your daughter who wasn’t crying anymore but letting out little whines that threatened to extend back into a crying jag if need be. The baby was unhappy and from the looks of it, so were you.

He dried his hands as you began to use the fresh wipes to clean your daughter. “There we go, Ellie,” you murmured. “We’re going to get you all nice and clean, okay?”

Hearing your soft-toned reassurances to the baby, Ben figured now might be as good a time as any to try to start melting away some of your anger with him. He cleared his throat. “If you want, you don’t have to use that thing. I can get in the tub with her. I have to clean up anyway.” He gestured to his bare chest but you didn’t even look up.

“I think you’ve done quite enough today, thank you,” you answered, your tone full of ice. Yeah, he was in fucking trouble. Fuck.

“Don’t be like that. I’ve told you, my sense of smell is ten times more powerful than yours. I tried and it just didn’t work out.” He crossed his arms, his jaw tight. Why would you be fucking pissed at him ? He tried his best. He got shit all over for him as a result for Christ’s sake. And he only spoke the truth.

“And what the fuck do you think this is? Chocolate? Paint?” You gestured to the shitty fresh wipes sitting in the diaper and to your ruined dress. That wasn’t what stopped him short; you never cursed in front of your daughter. 

You continued to carefully clean the baby in your lap. “I told you when I found out I was pregnant that I would do it myself. You could take off and go do whatever you wanted to do after you held up your end of the deal. You could go get high, get drunk, fuck a ton of women, play at being a superhero — whatever. But no, you said you wanted to stay. Insisted on it, actually. I told you then.” You threw another freshwipe into the diaper and grabbed a clean one. “If you stay, if you really want this, then you need to be all in. Do you remember that?”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I am all in.��

“You call this all in?” You gestured towards the messy baby who had her hands in her mouth, watching her mother, tears still dotting her eyes. 

Ben started to feel uncomfortable, something almost like shame itching at his skin, and he didn’t care for it. He dropped his gaze to the ground. “So I didn’t change one shitty diaper. You don’t need to make a big fucking deal over it.”

“Ben,” you seethed. “Look at me.”

He reluctantly glanced up at you, still annoyed. 

“She’s your daughter and she can’t do these things for herself right now. Sometimes it’s going to be messy and sometimes it’s going to smell so bad you gag. And yeah, sometimes it’s going to make you uncomfortable, but you push through all of that because you’re her father and you love her no matter what. Because you want to take care of her, to make sure she is healthy and happy every single day. She’s our responsibility for the rest of our lives. It’s no longer about you, me, or anyone else. It’s about her. Just her. That’s it.”

He unclenched his jaw, hearing the seriousness of what you were saying, the truth he didn’t want to think about underlying your very words. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his daughter, he did, but why were you so insistent on giving him the dirty work? You knew how he felt about doing this type of shit. Not to mention, it felt like you were trying to shame him for not wanting to change one fucking diaper, like you were implying that he wasn’t a good father if he didn’t waltz into the nursery, smiling and eager to do it. He was a good father and a damn good provider. If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t even have this place to call home. He was the one who sacrificed and played nice with the old bitch and Butcher. Hell, If it wasn’t for him, neither of you would even be here right now! 

Ben hated himself when he had that thought. What the fuck was wrong with him? But since he didn’t want to look at that too closely, instead he turned it back on you. 

“I don’t need you lecturing me on how to be a father. I am a good father, goddammit! Hell, I’m a better father than my old man ever was. I provide for her and you every single day. I gave up everything to protect you, be with you, and be there to take care of my kid. Which is a lot fucking more than some of the other dames I’ve knocked up over the years can say. I put my life on the line for you both! And this is the thanks I get? Because I didn’t change one shitty fucking diaper?” He scoffed. “You are one ungrateful bitch.”

Your eyes widened slightly and Ben regretted his words the moment they flew out of his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say those things, not to you.

Your eyes dropped to your daughter in your lap who was staring back up at you. You nodded and after a moment, you scowled up at him. “Well, since we’re such a burden and keeping you from your great life…don’t let the door hit you on your misogynistic and spoiled ass on the way out.” He could see your eyes shimmering but he could also see the absolute fury and ice daggers you were shooting him with, too. He knew then just how badly he had fucked up. 

“Y/N, I—”

“I mean it. Get your shit and leave. I’ll do this alone just like I planned to all along anyway. There you go, you’re free. No more nagging from this ungrateful bitch, no more having to act like you give a shit about either of us, no more being weighed down. You’re free to go and get fucked up and drink all you want, Soldier Boy. Go knock up some more dames and then leave them to raise those kids all on their own, too. You know, like a real man does.” If your glare could kill alone, Ben would be six feet under right now, the one thing that could end him that the Ivans never found out about. 

You placed your daughter in her little tub and stormed over to him, shoving him out the door. You couldn’t really move him but he was so caught off guard at your outburst, your words, that he moved where you pushed him. “And best of all, no more shitty fucking diapers!” You slammed the bathroom door in his face and locked the door, knowing it wouldn’t keep him out if he wanted in, but the message was clear. You were done and you were willing to go it alone; you didn’t need him and you had enough of his bullshit. He’d not only heard it in your voice, your words, but he’d also seen it in your eyes. That hurt way more than he ever thought it would.

He stood there staring at the door, stunned. His daughter began to cry and he heard you soothe her with “Shhh, it’s okay, sweetness. Mommy’s here. We’re going to get you all cleaned up and feeling better in no time. Don’t you worry, Ellie.” You began to coo to her as you bathed her and before long, she was making happy noises again. You’d even made her laugh once.

Ben stood there, not feeling right about what just happened or that his family was on the other side of the door. He could break it down if he wanted to, you both knew that, but he wouldn’t. Nor would he break the lock to get in. He knew he had let his irritation get the best of him and he’d said some things that he couldn’t take back, no matter how he might try to apologize now. Why the fuck had he said those things, anyway? 

He loved the life you had now (minus the shitty diapers obviously) and the family you’d started to build. Hell, he loved you, something he hadn’t ever really felt before for a woman other than his mother. He thought he’d felt it once with Crimson Countess but he’d been wrong. What he thought he felt for her paled in comparison to what he actually felt for you. Not just for having his kid but also for loving him and not the suit. Yes, you’d gone to him for protection and yes, he’d done his best to take advantage of that fact, but something genuine formed between the two of you. Before long, he wasn’t just protecting you to hold up his end of the deal, he was also protecting you because he couldn’t bear to lose you. He was over a century old and he had never come across someone like you before, someone who actually saw worth in him as something more than a quick lay or a celebrity or a supe. Someone who worried for him when he left your sight or took on one of your would-be assailants. Someone who actually wanted to build a life with him — with him, not Soldier Boy. 

So why the fuck had he said those things? He knew why. You had made him feel ashamed that he hadn’t gotten the job done, that he hadn’t completed the one mission you’d given him and you hadn’t even left the house yet. You’d had to come in and rescue him, do the task instead, and you hadn’t balked or even thought twice about it.

You were softly singing to Ellie and he could hear a couple of breaks in your voice, betraying how upset you really were though you were trying to hide it for your daughter’s sake. 

Ben hung his head in shame when he heard you get choked up and stop for a moment, sniffling, before you started back up again. He threw on a fresh shirt and got to work cleaning the shit from the changing pad and this time, he didn’t complain.

Ben watched as you carried the baby into the room, still not looking at him. You saw that the table was clean and moved over to place your daughter on it, grabbing the clean onesie he’d set aside and began to dress her. “You’re still here?” You bit out though he could detect a hint of genuine surprise there, too. 

“Still here,” he murmured, hoping you would hear how sorry he was without him having to say it.

You finished buttoning up the onesie and popped the pacifier into Ellie’s mouth that he’d left out for you. “Think you can manage to watch her while I take a ten minute shower?”

“Since when do you take ten minute showers?” He’d meant it as a teasing question, to try to lighten the mood a little, but you turned a glare onto him, beginning to unbutton the top of your dress. 

“Forget it. I’ll put her in her bouncy seat and bring her in with me. You can go.” You went to pick up the baby when he held his hands out.

“I can watch her. Go take your shower.”

He could see the clear distrust in your eyes but you handed him your daughter nonetheless but not before you kissed her head. “Mommy will be right back, Ellie,” you whispered, stroking her back. You glanced up at him, unsure, but then turned to make your way to the bathroom, continuing to undo the fastenings on your dress. He let out a huge sigh when he heard the door snick closed and the shower start up.

“Daddy’s in big trouble, Princess,” he murmured to Ellie. She gazed up at him, going to town on her pacifier, her brows drawing together slightly from the effort. He smiled and dropped a kiss down on her little forehead. “That’s one thing you have in common with your old man. We love the nipples.” He chuckled under his breath, imagining just how hard you would roll your eyes and swat at his shoulder if you heard that. But instead, he heard a much more heartbreaking sound from you. You were crying…in the shower. Fuck. 

At that moment, he heard a car slowing down and pulling into the driveway. One glance out the window confirmed it was Elena. In the midst of all this, he’d forgotten you had plans for the day. Just then, he got an idea and hurried towards the front door. He had just reached it by the time Elena was about to push the doorbell. He whipped it open, making her jump in surprise. After she saw it was Ben with the baby in tow, she recovered quickly. “Oh, hey Ben. Is Y/N ready yet? Hi, Ellie.” She gave a tiny wave to your daughter, smiling.

“Uh, not yet. She’s in the shower. Hey, can you watch Ellie for a few? I’ve got something I need to do and I can’t take her with me.”

Elena seemed uncertain for a moment, studying him as if she were wondering what he was about to do, but then relented with a shrug. “Sure.” He opened the door wider for her to come in and once she had put her coat and purse on a chair, he handed Ellie over to her. 

“Thanks. Be right back, Princess.” He stroked the back of the baby’s head with his fingers before hurrying out of the room, intent on doing whatever he had to in order to make things right.

Ben quietly slipped into the bathroom, undressed, and snuck into the shower behind you. You had stopped crying after the doorbell sounded so you most likely knew Elena was here and waiting. You were rubbing suds-covered hands all over the front of your body. 

While you cleaned your front, Ben’s eyes roamed over your back. He was already predictably hard, just seeing you naked. You had the perfect ass and even though you still had some baby weight that you were trying to lose, in his eyes, you were fucking gorgeous. You had mournfully admitted a couple of weeks ago that your stomach was soft and you were embarrassed by the visible stretch marks and your wider hips, not to mention the few pounds sticking around. Your breasts were bigger (something he didn’t see as a problem), the areolas darker than ever before, and you were feeling a bit insecure about your new shape. He loved the new you, which he made sure to tell you over and over as he fucked you that night. You were the mother of his kid, you’d given birth to her, nourished her from your body, and you could give him even more. It endlessly fascinated him that his seed had taken root in you and a healthy child grew from it, one that was half you and half him. He’d literally fucked a baby into you and every time he saw you like this, he wanted to do it again (though you’d told him your body needed at least a year or two to recuperate before you could even entertain the idea of another pregnancy). You looked so fucking gorgeous carrying his kid and now, you were even more beautiful if that was possible. It was pure beauty that he saw when you breastfed his daughter, when you smiled down at her, talked to her, and rocked her to sleep. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t want you, on your back (or your hands and knees, he wasn’t picky), taking load after load from him until he knocked you up once more. 

So he had been dumbfounded and almost incredulous when you nervously admitted all of this to him, implying that maybe he didn’t find you attractive anymore and maybe he’d prefer a flat-stomached, tighter, younger, free-to-bang-all-day woman instead. That or some old lady. He’d fucked that notion right out of your head.

But now as he stepped toward you, not only was he incredibly turned on by you and how beautiful he still thought you were, but he also realized right then, just like he had many times before this moment, you were the only one he wanted. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your wet shoulder.

You let out a small gasp in surprise. “Where’s Ellie?”

“Elena’s got her.” 

“Well, I’m not doing anything with you in this shower so you might as well get out,” you snapped and attempted to wriggle out of his embrace. When you couldn’t, you huffed out an aggravated breath and went back to rubbing soap over your skin. 

He nosed your wet hair out of the way to get closer to your ear. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I never should’ve said that shit.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” you muttered, gliding soap down your arms. 

“I love you,” he murmured to the skin of your neck before dropping a kiss. “I love my little princess.” Another kiss. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Really? Because it sounds like you want to be somewhere else.”

“No, I don’t,” he assured. “I told you when I knocked you up. You two are it for me.”

You slowed down your movements and he took the opportunity to hug you a little tighter, burying his nose underneath your jaw. “I mean it, doll. This is right where I want to be.” He slowly ground his erection into the small of your back to also illustrate his point. He meant every fucking word; with you, around you, in you — there was no other place he’d rather be. 

You attempted to turn around in his arms and he loosened his grip so you could. He nearly let out a soft groan at the feel of your soap-slicked skin sliding against his dick. You stared up into his eyes and the smirk that formed on his face was beyond dirty, thinking you two were about to get to the fun part, your argument a thing of the past when you cupped his bearded cheeks in your suds-covered hands. 

“Ben,” you whispered. “I need to know that if something happens to me…that you’ve got this with Ellie.”

Ben’s grin morphed into a frown and his brows furrowed. “What the fuck are you talking about? What do you mean if something happens to you?”

Your eyes began to glisten and his heart dropped inside his chest. What the fuck hadn’t you told him?

“Did some cocksucker threaten you?” He growled menacingly, the rage he worked so hard to tamp down for yours and Ellie’s sakes was attempting to breach the surface at the thought of someone even thinking about hurting you. Mallory had said you’d be safe here; had the old bitch lied?

You shook your head and that only helped to quell the fire burning deep within slightly. A light appeared on your face and you glanced down as it got brighter, eyes wide in fear. “Your chest is glowing. Ben, stop! You need to calm down.” 

He took deep breaths as he’d learned to do, telling himself that you were here in his arms, right now, and you were safe. You were not in any danger. Hearing the sounds of his daughter a few rooms away helped him to get this fucking thing inside of him under control. He hated it, hated what the Reds had done to him, but it was now forever a part of him. He would do whatever it took to keep you both safe, even from this goddamn weapon inside his chest.

When you met his eyes again, there was no more light, no more glow lighting up your face from below. You lifted yourself up on your toes and brushed your lips against his. “Thank you,” you whispered. 

Ben nodded and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you up against him. He nuzzled you, feeling much calmer than he had a few moments before, but he still saw the same worry in your gaze that he’d seen before his inner nuke started to fire up. “Talk to me,” he implored.

You pressed your lips together and briefly looked away and he knew you didn’t really want to say what you were about to. It made him incredibly nervous. While you two had argued before and you’d told him to go when he was being an ass…what if what you meant was that you wanted out of this? Fear immediately took hold of him — fear of losing you, fear of losing Ellie, and all because he’d been a stupid fuck who couldn’t keep his mouth shut. You both were the two best things that had ever happened to him since being injected with Compound V. He didn’t want to go back to before . He only wanted now and the two of you. Hell, he wanted to keep creating a family with you, the family he’d always desired but never had. What had seemed within his grasp just hours ago now seemed to be getting further and further away. 

That thought had him speaking — no, downright begging. Soldier Boy begging… only for you. “Look, I know I’ve been a dick and I said some really fucked up shit earlier but I didn’t—”

You gently placed your fingers against his lips, effectively stopping him. You stared up at him sadly and that fear kicked into high gear. Fuck, he was losing you. And all because he hadn’t been able to keep his goddamn mouth shut or change one fucking dirty diaper. He’d fucking failed and now he was going to lose you and that dream he wanted to realize with you all in one swoop. All because he really was America’s Asshole.

But when you finally spoke, you said the last thing he expected. “I spent months running from Vought’s death squads before I found you. Even with you protecting me, even after I got pregnant, I was still in danger because they wanted me dead.” Your voice broke on the last word, betraying the tears that were imminent, along with the shimmering in your eyes getting worse.

His brows drew together in concern but he gently grasped your chin, making sure that you not only continued looking at him but that you heard every word he was about to say. “But you’re safe now,” he murmured. “Vought’s gone, Edgar and Homelander are dead…I would never let anything happen to you.”

Tears began to roll down your cheeks. “I know, but I keep thinking what if something goes wrong? What if one of the supes out there finds us? What if they get wind that I’m still alive? What if the surviving board members decide that I’m still a liability?”

He shook his head, moving his thumb up to stroke your cheek reassuringly. “No one survived. I made sure of it.” He placed his forehead down onto yours. “I promised I’d keep you safe, you both safe, and I did.” Ben tenderly rubbed his nose along yours. “Still do.” 

He was slightly relieved that you weren’t thinking of leaving him but also unhappy that you had still been worrying about this all of this time and he hadn’t had a clue. He was going to do whatever it took to reassure you, to remind you that you were safe and that you no longer needed to worry about any of those pricks that you’d had to run from before. He still remembered the nightmares you’d had, the jumps and startles in the middle of the night at the slightest sound. Eventually, it prompted him to hold you when you went to bed, promising to keep you safe so you could get some sleep while he kept watch. You would finally relax in his arms and close your eyes, content to listen to his strong heartbeat underneath your ear, knowing you were indeed protected.   

Sure, you’d kept your end of the deal and let him fuck you once you’d gotten some rest from running nonstop, but instead of getting bored like he usually did after hitting the same pussy a couple of different times, he’d actually started to like you. So he’d kept you close while he turned the hunt around to make Onehander, Edgar, and all of those assholes the prey instead. When he found out you were carrying his kid, he decided he’d do whatever it took to make you both safe and even ended up teaming up with the Brit and his team again, though he still didn’t trust them. Hell, he’d even made a deal with them to settle in this area and get you this house when you’d told him you wanted a home for your child to grow safely up in, to put down roots. He’d put up with your nearby neighbors, with having to see the One-Eyed-WonderBitch again, and shifting from the Supe life to suburban life (which was not an easy transition for him by any means). He did it all for you…for you and Ellie and the family you had chosen to have with him.

So to see now that after everything, you still didn’t feel completely safe, well…that bothered him. What kind of man had he been for you to keep feeling scared that Vought might come back at any moment to haunt you? He’d never given you details of the day that he’d annihilated them all for you because he knew you didn’t want them, but maybe he should have. If he had, maybe that would’ve helped to allay your fears of any possible reprisals.   

“I know you do,” you broke into his thoughts. “But…what if something else happens? What if I get sick or get hit by a car or I have an accident and fall or I have a medical emergency that could be fatal or—”

“Hey,” he interrupted your rambling. “You’re spiraling.” Something you’d done quite a bit when you first met. His heart sunk at the thought; this had gotten to that point and he hadn’t had one goddamn clue. He’d been so wrapped up in you and Ellie and the life you were building that he hadn’t even seen it. Maybe his father had been right; he was a fuck up. An assertion by the old man that you’d unknowingly been dismantling every single day with how much you loved and believed in Ben, but now…now he felt as if he didn’t deserve you. He watched more tears spill down your cheeks and he knew he definitely didn’t; here was the proof.

“I know,” you sobbed. “I’m sorry. I just…” You took in a ragged breath and looked into his eyes, your bottom lip starting to wobble. “I need to know that if something happens to me, that you’ll take care of Ellie the way she needs to be taken care of. If I’m gone, she’s going to need you and I need to know that she’ll be okay.”

He tried his best not to be insulted, not to show it for your sake so he wouldn’t upset you anymore than you already were, but it stung his ego a bit. “Of course, she would be okay. I’ve kept her safe this long, haven’t I?”

“I’m not just talking about safety, Ben. I’m talking about you actually taking care of her. Not just providing for her, but actually being there for her whenever she needs you. Like the diaper change I asked you to do today. Is it disgusting? Sure. No one likes dealing with it, smelling shit, getting it all over you…but she’s your daughter and she needed you to take care of it for her. What if I had gone for breakfast with Elena instead? Would she have sat in her own crap until I came back home because you feel as a man that it’s beneath you to change your own daughter’s diaper?” More tears appeared. “What if something had happened to me while I was out? Would you just push Ellie onto Elena and Maggie to take care of her so you could go back to your old life? All so you wouldn’t have to do any of the messy or hard stuff? Would you abandon her just like that?”

“Of course not,” he snapped, his consideration for you now forgotten in the face of what you’d said. “How the fuck could you even think I would do something like that? Haven’t I been here through everything like I fucking said I would be?”

“Yes, but I’ve been doing every thing!” The words burst out of you. “At first, you didn’t want to feed her, burp her, bathe her — any of it! And I did it all ! Why? Because that was supposed to be the woman’s job you’d said!”

Ben could feel his temper flaring at you bringing that up. You were also intimating that he didn’t do anything for your daughter. Were you blind to all of the effort he had put in to help you raise Ellie since that fight you’d had a couple of weeks after she’d been born? Didn’t you realize that most mornings you woke up well rested was because he’d gotten up with the baby in the middle of the night so you wouldn’t have to? And you were still holding that shit over his head? What the fuck was wrong with you? “That was the way it was back then,” he growled out. “I told you that! And I’ve been doing all of that shit you just mentioned since then! So I didn’t change one shitty diaper today! I said I was sorry! When are you going to fucking let it go?”

Instead of responding, you exploded into more sobs and shame churned in his gut. He really fucking hated seeing either of his girls cry. It made him want to beat the ever loving shit out of some son of a bitch. Even if he happened to be said son of a bitch sometimes. 

“Christ,” he muttered. “C’mere.” He pulled you to him and you held onto him tightly, crying into his neck. His hand slid down your back in a tender caress and he pressed his lips to your hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to you.

He kept you in his arms, hoisted you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist, and let you get it all out. He even shut the water off, knowing the temperature had vastly cooled in the amount of time he’d been in there with you so far. He vaguely recalled his plan from earlier to join you, apologize for what he’d said during your argument, and begin making up with you. That obviously had gone to shit; there would be no making up happening now, that was for sure. And if anything would get his dick to go soft with you naked against him, it was the sound of you crying. 

Once your sobs quieted down and turned into ragged inhales and a few sniffles here and there, he moved your hair out of the way so he could see you. “Better?”

You nodded, sniffling as you looked up at him. “Yeah.”

“Okay, let’s get you out of this tub then and get you dried off.” He placed a kiss on your forehead and went to open the shower curtain.

“Ben?”

He froze and turned to look at you. 

You lifted your head, letting out another sniffle. “I’m sorry, too.” Before he could say anything, you continued. “I know you’ve been trying and you’ve been doing everything I asked you to with Ellie. I just…I freaked out about the diaper thing.” You wiped at your face. “Because it just brought back that worry, that fear I have of what would happen to her if I wasn’t here.” Your voice wobbled slightly but you forged ahead anyway. “You know, I wasn’t scared like this when I was being hunted down. I mean, I was, but not like this. Back then, I only had myself to worry about. And then when I got pregnant, sure, I was a little more scared but I also knew you’d keep us safe.” You took another ragged breath in. “But ever since she’s been born, I have been absolutely terrified. That something might happen to her, to me…to her if something does happen to me. I’m so fucking scared, Ben.” Your voice broke then, prompting fresh tears to roll down your cheeks.

Ben had been insulted before, almost as if you hadn’t believed in him or his ability to keep either of you safe, but now as he listened to your heartfelt explanation, he realized it wasn’t really about any of that. It didn’t really have anything to do with him, except that you wanted him to be ready to care for your daughter if something ever happened to you. That unpleasant tug inside his gut happened once more when you finally confessed just how scared you were. He thought back over the last few months since Ellie had been born. Your push for him to be more involved; your fighting with him over his antiquated mindset as you’d called it over his ideas of what fatherhood entailed; your rushing him during your sexual escapades the few times he’d managed to get you away from the house while Elena watched the baby no matter how much it pissed him off that he couldn’t take his time with you like he wanted; your insistence that he watch Ellie while you go to lunch with your friend; your anger today at his refusal to deal with the shitty diaper situation — all of it suddenly clicked into place for him and made sense. Fuck, he didn’t think it was possible for him to feel any worse. He had completely failed you on all fronts. He had been the blind one; he’d never seen what was going on with you when it was right in front of him this whole time. Christ on a cross.

He gripped your chin gently. “Look at me.” You reluctantly met his gaze, yours glistening with fresh tears, and he could see the fear there plain as day. Fuck, how had he missed it all of this time? But instead of focusing on that, he sought to reassure you. “You and Ellie are safe. Nothing is going to happen. I would never let anyone hurt you. Either of you. I love you both too fucking much.” He grazed the pad of his thumb over your cheek to catch a stray tear that had escaped at his words. “And if it’s something that’s going to make you feel better, then let’s sit down and make a plan in case anything were to happen to you. Or even if I bit it. I want both of my girls to be taken care of, even if I can’t be here to do it myself.” You gave him a tearful smile. “So, let’s do that and kick this fear in its fucking ass. Sound good, doll?”

You nodded and leaned in, kissing him and making him smile. He’d been able to make you feel better after all and he felt damn proud of himself for being able to do so. “I love you,” you whispered.

He fucking loved hearing those three words from you every single time you said them; he knew you fucking meant it. And so did he. “I love you, too, baby.” When you beamed at him, another tugging sensation happened in his chest but this time, it was a far more pleasant one. He pecked your lips and opened the curtain. “Alright, let’s get you out of here.”

Before he could take a step out of the tub, you reached up and yanked the curtain closed, making his brows furrow. Your smile suddenly transformed into a devilish smirk. Immediately, he could feel his dick hardening again. He knew what that smirk meant. “We didn’t make up yet,” you murmured, starting to rub your body against his. “And we always make up after we fight.” 

Ben felt the stiff peaks of your nipples gliding across his skin and his mouth practically watered at the thought of sucking on them while he rammed into you repeatedly. Fuck, he loved your tits. There had been a time after Ellie was born where you’d pushed his head away anytime he tried to get his mouth on them while he was fucking you, complaining that they were too sensitive due to all of the feedings. But recently, he’d been able to start that up again without causing you discomfort and once, he had even gotten a tiny amount of milk squirted into his mouth by accident. It had been surprising for him, embarrassing for you, but it had turned out to be a major turn on. He found he didn’t mind the taste and the idea of him drinking you down, you shooting something into his mouth for once and him needing to be the one to swallow, that made him hornier than he’d ever been in his life. He’d fucked a lot of women in his time, sometimes high, sometimes sober; he’d done things that made most people blush to hear about or uncomfortable to imagine, some things which you flat out refused to do. He’d founded Herogasm and had marathon fucks that were legendary. He’d hosted orgies where he would be the only one left standing, having never tired out and still raring to go when everyone else was down for the count. And yet, when you’d unintentionally squirted the smallest bit of milk into his mouth, his dick had gotten so hard, he was shocked it hadn’t exploded right there. Well…it did, but not the way he’d originally been thinking. He’d greedily swallowed you down and kept sucking, even through the first load of cum he’d shot into you in reaction to that fucking hot as hell moment. From that point on, while he knew your breastmilk was Ellie’s main food source and he loved that, his daughter had to learn to fucking share. 

That was another reason why he had such a love/hate relationship with the breast pump machine you had. When he would watch the milk fill the bottle, he didn’t know whether to cry, jerk off, fuck you, or just watch. Sometimes he even wished you’d get rid of the contraption and just let him help you; it could be a rewarding experience for you both while you made sure Ellie had plenty to eat. 

Your smirk grew, almost as if you knew where his thoughts had gone, and you ghosted your lips over his. “Ben,” you called to him in a teasing singsong voice. “I said, we always make up after fighting.”

He could feel something wet moving against his abdomen as you attempted to roll your hips, knowing it had nothing to do with your recent shower, and he ground out, “Yeah, we fucking do” before he slammed his mouth against yours in a bruising kiss that was all tongue and teeth. He turned around and carefully pushed you up against the tiled wall, making sure not to break it or you. It wasn’t long before he was inside you, his hips pushing into you at a steady pace, his mouth suckling at you and your fingers in his hair, tugging roughly, as you muffled your moans with your other hand. Neither of you had forgotten that Elena was within earshot; Ben just didn’t give a fuck. He snatched your hand away from your mouth, gruffed out a command of “Let me fucking hear you”, and he didn’t give two shits who heard the fucking hot soundtrack of your making up. Instead, as you cried out your pleasure for the world to hear, he went back to your incredible rack, focusing on filling up on you while he worked towards filling you up. The thought of any fear or resentment from your earlier argument was long gone as you both chased your highs at lightning speed. The only words said between you were dirty or full of love. And even when you both had been forced to take a mostly cold shower afterwards to clean up once you both had caught your breath, only smiles, tender touches, and kisses had been exchanged along with a few laughs, both of you completely sated. Well, you were; Ben would never get enough of you and he planned to try to fuck you again later after the baby had fallen asleep.

But as for right now, seeing the bright smile on your face as he carefully wrapped a towel around you, the weight visibly lighter on your shoulders since you confessed your fears to him, he was determined to do whatever it took to not only make you feel safe but also to keep you feeling this way and being this happy. 

When you’d laughed at something he’d said, darted forward to kiss him, and wrapped your arms around his neck, his embrace tightened around you and he kissed the juncture in between your neck and shoulder, making you that silent promise. Whatever it took to make you feel safe again, he’d do it.

Elena glanced up to see you and Ben stepping into the living room, both dressed and looking refreshed. You had been missing in action for at least an hour and forty-five minutes. Elena already had an idea what you two had been doing considering everything she’d heard. Maggie had even heard when she called to check in and see when Elena would be returning home, beyond disgusted at the sounds Soldier Boy was making as he railed you in the shower. She’d told Elena to call her when she was done babysitting so the archaic asshole could get laid and promptly hung up. But even if Elena hadn’t heard what you’d been up to, she would have immediately known after seeing you both. Ben’s hair was still damp and yours was freshly blown out. Both of you were touching, unable to keep your hands off of each other and sporting matching grins, looking like practical newlyweds. Ben’s hand moved to the small of your back and both of you suddenly smiled wide upon seeing your daughter.

“Thank you for watching her and for waiting.” Your cheeks turned a shade of pink but you held out your arms. Elena was only too happy to hand you your baby back. “There she is,” you cooed, pressing a loud kiss to Ellie’s cheek. “Were you a good girl for your Aunt Elena?”

“She was a very good girl,” Elena confirmed, watching as Ben strode over and stopped next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him, his eyes centered on both of his girls with an affectionate smile to match. Sometimes Maggie still had trouble believing it, that Soldier Boy had been domesticated as she put it, but Elena never doubted how important you and Ellie were to him. She could see it every time he looked at you, at your little girl, and she actually thought it was beyond sweet. She had even said as much to which Maggie had rolled her eyes, muttered “Whatever, I’m going to vomit”, and walked away from the door while Elena waited to greet the three of you after she had extended a dinner invitation to your family one night. As expected Ben and Maggie didn’t get along too well, especially given their history, but the former seemed to be okay with Elena and she was okay with him because she knew how much he meant to you. And Maggie didn’t seem to mind you all that much, either. So you all somehow made the nearby neighbor thing work; for yours, Elena’s, and Ellie’s sakes if for nothing else. 

“She did get a little fussy, though, so I fed her one of the bottles you had in the fridge.”

You nodded and pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead, briefly glancing at the clock on the mantle. “It’s about that time. Thank you so much for doing that. I’m sorry that we missed lunch.” You blushed once more when Ben let out a quiet chuckle.

“No problem,” Elena dismissed with a smile and a wave of her hand. “I’m glad everything seems to be okay. Ben looked a little worried when I got here.”

You glanced up at him, your brows arching in surprise. Ben shrugged, seeming unbothered at this observation.

“We can maybe shoot for next week if you’re game,” Elena offered. 

You went to answer when Ben cut you off. “Actually, why don’t you guys still go and grab a late lunch or something? Elena’s already here and you both are dressed to the nines.”

Your eyes widened when you looked over at your husband, worry lining your expression for a moment. “No, that’s—it’s too late. By the time we’d get home, it would probably be dinner time.” You let out a nervous sounding laugh. “Besides, Ellie’s going to need to feed before then and I—”

“You pumped earlier, right? I can feed her.”

You seemed unsure, biting your lip. “I did, but I’m not sure—”

Ben released you and held out his hands, smiling reassuringly at you. “It’s settled. You go. Ellie and I have got this. Don’t we, Princess?” The baby had her fingers in her mouth, drooling everywhere. Elena saw Ben shake his head, seeming amused.

You glanced down at your daughter, the happiness from before replaced by uncertainty. Elena knew you struggled to leave Ellie the first few times she’d babysat for you both to have some time to yourselves. It wasn’t surprising; you were a new mother after all. But this time, you seemed even more reluctant than usual. 

“Hey,” Ben softly called to you, prompting you to meet his gaze. “Remember what we talked about. We’re going to be fine. I’ve got her.”

It was moments like this that convinced Elena of your importance to him. If Maggie ever witnessed them, she was sure her girlfriend would reluctantly agree. Never had Elena ever heard him speak that gently to anyone, even his own daughter. Not when she and Maggie were in earshot anyway. 

Ben gave you a meaningful look and after glancing down at Ellie one more time, you eventually handed your daughter over to her father. “There’s my girl.” He leaned down to kiss the baby’s forehead. 

You watched, anxiety still apparent in your expression.“Ben, are you su—”

He immediately darted forward to kiss you, cutting you off. Elena had the grace to look away and give you two a moment.

“We’ll be fine,” she heard Ben murmur to you. “I’ve got this. I promise, baby. Go have your girl time and then come home. We’ll be here when you get back.”

“You’re absolutely sure?” You checked one last time.

“Of course I fucking am.”

“Language,” you chided.

Elena glanced over and found Ben smirking down at you, leaning closer. “You didn’t seem to mind my language earlier.” As expected, your cheeks reddened and he barked out a laugh, kissing one of them. “Alright, go have fun and we’ll see you later.” Then he leaned in to whisper something to you that couldn’t be heard and your jaw dropped, gently swatting at his hip since he was holding Ellie in both arms. He laughed and moved away, his gaze a little darker than before as it stayed fixed on you.

You kissed Ellie’s head and stroked her cheek, smiling. “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart. Be good for your daddy, okay? I love you.” Ellie gurgled and you smiled wider, leaning up to kiss Ben goodbye who immediately deepened it.

Elena was on the verge of looking away again when you pulled back, panting, and glared up at the smirking man in front of you. “You know, for someone who’s trying to get me to leave, you’re doing a miserable job.”

“Just giving you a little preview for later.” The stare between you two was so intense that it felt as if any unfortunate bystanders would suddenly burst into flames just from being too close. This time, Elena was the one nearly blushing. She would have never believed you two had just been having sex if she hadn’t heard it for herself. You both looked hungry and not for any late lunch. 

You leaned in, as if to kiss him again, when you reached up and planted a kiss on his brow instead, smirking as you backed away. “Until then, Benjamin,” you snarked, turning to leave. “Love you.” You let out a yelp a moment later when Ben swatted your ass with a free hand as you passed. 

You shot another glare at him and he simply smirked. “Love you, too, doll.” 

Elena gently pulled you towards the door, thinking if she didn’t get you out of the house soon, you definitely weren’t going to leave at all. Or more like Soldier Boy wasn’t going to let you leave. Not with the way his eyes were unashamedly glued to your ass.

You waved one last time in your family’s direction. “Bye, Ellie. See you soon, babygirl.”

Ben picked up Ellie’s little hand and simulated a wave, making you smile. 

Once Elena had you in the car and backed out of your driveway, she could see the earlier uncertainty returning. “So, what’s going on? First, Ben looked worried and now you. Something I should know about?”

You bit your lip and seemed to be mulling over whether to tell her or not. Elena gave you a moment to yourself to decide. Eventually you turned to look at her and sighed. “Okay.” You then proceeded to fill Elena in on everything you’d been feeling since your daughter had been born, everything you’d just told Ben.

Ben watched as you and Elena got into the car and left. He knew you would be worried but he was determined not to give you any reason to be. He meant it when he told you he had this. He wanted you to know that he could look after Ellie the way she needed looking after, which is why he insisted that you still go out to eat with Elena. He was going to make damn sure he passed this test and he was keeping his promise to you, that he would make you feel safe again. And if that meant he had to play Mr. Mom and change a few shitty diapers while you were gone, then so be it. 

Once the car disappeared, he let out a sigh and turned to look down at his daughter. She was staring up at him with those beautiful eyes that reminded him so often of his mother’s, though absent of any of the heartbreak she had endured in her life with his father. That was why when you asked about possible names for your daughter after you’d given birth, he’d mentioned Eleanor to bestow upon her. You’d loved it, especially after Ben had explained the significance of the name to you, and so your daughter was named after her grandmother, though you both had ended up calling her Ellie for short most of the time. 

He gave his little girl a smile. “We’ve got the place to ourselves, kiddo. We can do whatever we want. What does my princess want to do, hmm?”

Ellie gurgled and he nodded as if he understood.

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Let your old man show you his movies so you can see when he was a star. Good thinking, babygirl.” He chuckled when she gurgled again and turned to head into the living room. 

Just then, he heard the sounds he had been hoping like hell that he wouldn’t hear until you were back. Ellie began to grunt, a few short farts sounded, and an almost undetectable thud was heard as shit landed in her diaper. Sure enough, a moment later, the smell wafted up and smacked him in the face. The smell was beyond terrible, something you had told him previously couldn’t be the case since it was known that the poop of breastfed babies didn’t smell as bad as other poop. He’d looked at you then with disbelief; how the hell did you not smell it when you were wiping the kid’s ass? Then again, thanks to his super-powered nose, you wouldn’t detect what he would. Like right now. It was fucking awful, like sour milk mixed with shit. Christ.

“Ugh.” He extended his arms and held Ellie out, away from him. He should’ve known this would fucking happen. It was just his luck. “You know, kid, for such a small thing, you sure shit a lot.” Ellie continued to make happy noises as if she hadn’t just taken a massive shit that was rapidly stinking up the room. Ben pulled her closer, his face screwed up in disgust as the smell got closer, too. “You are way too happy for someone who just shit their pants for the second time today.” 

He glanced around, almost as if you would somehow come flying around the corner to help, or Queen Lesbo might show up out of the blue or something. Nope, this was all on him. He remembered your words from earlier, how he needed to know how to care for Ellie which included shitty diaper changes, and he let out a huge defeated sigh. “Fuck.”

Ben cradled Ellie in the crook of his arm, relieved there were no damp spots on her back this time, and turned to make his way to her nursery. “You know something, kid, if the day should ever come that I’m in diapers, you better fucking change ‘em without any complaints. I don’t want to hear a damn word out of you then, got it?”

Ellie made more happy noises and he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” A small smile slipped onto his face and he lifted her up to his shoulder, kissing her cheek. “You’re lucky Daddy loves you, Princess.”

Almost as if she’d understood his words, she gave him a wide toothless smile, drooling onto his shirt. Instead of being disgusted, he chuckled and continued his trek. She’d unknowingly just given him a perfect excuse to change when you got home and entice you to get another shower in later. Thinking along that same line, feeling proud that this was now something he could do for you and for his daughter, something that would help you to feel better overall…well, he found now that he didn’t mind the idea of any shitty diaper changes all that much.

A/N: Sequel

[ididdedurmom]

More evil head cannons

I have silly ideas about the gang after the event of the story, everyone lives, except Bob

PONY:

Has a thousand yard stare when he zones out

Has the loudest, most disgusting, mucus filled cough ever

Actually really good at drawing

Has drawn every member of the gang at least twice

Loves physical touch, he leans on his friends when their sitting next to him.

Actually screams during horror movies, like loud genuine screams

Loves play fighting with Darry, like full on wrestling

Steve taught him how to drive

He either walks like a ghost or stomps, there is no in between

He can play one song on the guitar, and that’s it

His legs are super strong, so his kicks hurt really bad

He would be better at track, but his smoking habits hold him back

He feels jealous of Soda and Darry because they had more time with their parents

He and Darry have matching reading glasses

SODA:

He says “I’m just a girl” anytime he gets in trouble

He has used his pretty privilege to get out of being arrested multiple times

Despite how handsome he knows he is, he still feels super insecure about his looks

He steals from the DX station constantly

He and Steve spend hours gossiping about their customers once both of their shifts are over

A dog bit him when he was a kid, now he’s deathly afraid of them

He loves physical affection, hugging him is the best way to cheer him up

Absolute candy addict

Candy is the #1 item he steals from the DX

He broke his dominant hand once, and now his handwriting is permanently ruined

He reads insanely slow and monotone when he reads out loud

He either sleeps like a rock, or wakes up from the slightest sound, there is no in between

He lives in his flannel, that thing hasn’t been washed in literal years

He suffers from middle child syndrome, he knows his brothers love him, but they don’t pay enough attention to him

DARRY:

He hates his jobs, he knows he has to go but he can’t stand them

All of his coworkers are old and they treat him like a child (which he’s kind of okay with in a way)

He loves watching cartoons but he feels like he’d be wasting his time

He sneezes like a dad

He wakes up at 4 am and works out immediately

Loves compliments and words of affection

Doing favors is his love language

He has the whitest legs ever, he’s all tan on the top and snow white on the bottom

His tan ends where his pants start

Small bits of his hair are grey, he doesn’t know

He has a fear of abandonment

He is insanely flexible for a man of his size, like he can touch the floor standing up with ease

He hit a dog with his car once and cried for 2 hours straight

He loves cuddling on the couch with his brothers, it helps him relax

He despises Curly Shepard, he’s civil with Tim, but he HATES Curly

When he comes home from his ski trips with his old friends, he actually looks his age

A woman once assumed he was Pony’s father, and it made him die inside a little

He can’t stand Mother and Fathers Day

He was mad at Steve when he found out he taught Pony how to drive

TWO-BIT:

He and Dally bond by harassing women

He has a box full of things he’s stolen

His slight alcoholism stems from his father

He let’s his sister paint his nails, and he shows them off proudly

He gets his nails painted before rumbles

He watches soap operas with his mother every night

He can play the trumpet

He has never purchased a pack of cigarettes, only stolen

He listens to metal

When he passes Johnny’s house, he has to actively stop himself from walking in and beating Johnny’s parents half to death, especially his father

Its not that he doesn’t want a job, I mean he doesn’t, it’s that he thinks he’d only mess up whenever they had him do

He constantly forgets to brush his teeth

Pop and beer are the only things he drinks, he doesn’t touch water

He religiously wears Mickey Mouse merch, you will never catch him in a plain shirt

Baby Pony and him got along really well, he was kinda like Pony’s goofy cousin

Two-Bit and Darry have been friends since they were little kids

Two has no plans for his future, and it weighs on him

He broke both of his elbows once

His teachers have kinda given up on him, they just treat him like a bother instead of a student

STEVE:

He messes up Pony’s hair every chance he gets

He uses the most hair grease out of everyone

He has had the same comb for 3 years

He constantly smells like oil

The underside of his nails are always black, no matter how much he washes his hands

He and Soda have matching scars from a shared failed attempt to climb a barb wired fence

He is terrified of the police

He and Soda make your mom jokes at each other, despite neither of them having mothers

His voice is scarily deep when he wakes up

He and Two-Bit have an inside joke no one in the gang understands

He, Soda, and Two-Bit all have matching stick and poke tattoos

He hates his father, and by extension the fathers of Johnny and Two-Bit

He and Dally don’t hang out much, but when they do they are absolute menaces

Dally and him steal cars and hub caps together

He is genuinely upset by the size of his nose

JOHNNY:

He’s dyslexic

His handwriting is atrocious

His best subject is math

He and the gang all picked out stickers to put on his crutches

He loves sleeping around his friends

His hands are rough

He can’t stand the smell of beer, unless it’s one of the gang

He and Curly hate each other for literally no reason

Pony has slowly been teaching him to read better

No matter how much grease he puts in his hair, it won’t stay back

He hates going out in public because people always look at him funny

He hates looking at his burn scars

He, Dally, and Ponyboy watch sunsets together

He either sleeps at the Cutis’s house, Two-Bit’s house, Steve’s (very rarely), or Dallas’s place.

He’s not allowed to sleep in the lot anymore

He has tons of freckles, you just can’t see them against his skin

He loves sleeping outside when he wants to

He never wants children, he’s to scared he’ll become his father

His pain tolerance is so high that sometimes he won’t even notice when he gets injured

He likes how defensive Dallas is of him, makes him feel confident

He smokes marijuana with Dally sometimes, he’s super anxious when they do though because he doesn’t want to get arrested

DALLY:

He will not talk about his feelings

The cops forced him to go to therapy, it didn’t fix anything

He is amazing at lying

The police know him by name

He hasn’t told the gang much about the past other than where he came from and that he doesn’t talk to his folks

Darry nicknamed him “Rat”

He actually feels bad when Darry yells at him

He gets sun burns very quickly

He has his own personal stench

He doesn’t want Johnny to end up like him

He cried for 3 hours straight when he found out Johnny was still alive, it is his most embarrassing moment

He chugs drinks insanely fast

He can’t read very well

He needs glasses but he thinks he’d look like a wimp if he had any

Even though he knows he could have an asthma attack from coughing to hard, he still doesn’t carry his inhaler

He was happy when he thought he was going to die

Then he woke up and had an epiphany about life, it didn’t do to much, but now he knows death isn’t the only option

He proudly shows off the burn marks on his arm

He loves pushing Johnny around in his wheelchair

He listens to outlaw music and Frank Sinatra

He loves horror movies

He toned down his bad behavior once he got out of the hospital, he’s still a dick though

That’s it or whatever. I hope you like them, I’m sorry if some of them don’t make sense. I’m just so silly. I apologize for my horrible grammar lol. Feel free to tell me some of your head cannons!! :D

[emmkayyy03]

Saturn and Mars, Inertia vs fire🔥

This one had to be written—it’s the perfect clash of energies: Saturn, the slow and heavy, and Mars, the bold and unstoppable.

Saturn

Saturnian energy is dense, calculated, and unforgiving. It holds you back, makes you second-guess, and clings to every little thought or memory as if letting go would somehow unravel everything. It’s guilt, fear, and the overwhelming sense of responsibility that makes every decision feel like a life-or-death situation.

Saturn is inertia. Once you’re caught in its loop, it’s like quicksand—hard to escape. You hold onto past emotions, people, habits—anything familiar—even when it weighs you down. It delays action, tests patience, and makes every step feel like dragging a ball and chain uphill. Saturn is that energy that keeps you calculating every move, constantly asking, What if I mess this up? It's too much inertia and too much clinginess, it makes your mind feel heavy.

Mars

Mars, on the other hand, is everything Saturn isn’t. It’s bold, immediate, and full of action. Mars doesn’t hesitate—it takes charge, owns its choices, and doesn’t waste time regretting them. It’s the energy that says, “I made this decision, and I’m going for it.”

Mars is actually considered as a malefic by modern astrologers , be it Manglik dosha, strong mars influence or anything. Mars doesn’t make one obedient, that’s why people hate it, they are usually wild , think of that kid in your class who just didn’t care what teacher or others thought of them and wrecked havoc . That’s mars but it’s also the warriors in a battlefield who would defend their territory with their lives. Having strong mars or mars in 1st house gives lot of testosterone, women with such placements grow some facial hair too. But in reality mars is benefic, mangal literally means benefic in Sanskrit. But people nowadays want others to follow them be easy to handle. Mars prevents that.

There’s no dwelling on the past or wondering if you should’ve done something differently. Mars is all about pushing forward, moving fast, and embracing whatever comes with it. It’s raw confidence and the freedom to act without overthinking. Where Saturn clings to the past and hesitates, Mars is ready to leap forward, leaving the old behind. It’s about vitality, momentum, and the thrill of making things happen.

How Martian Energy Remedies Saturnian Energy

For example, consider a boy who graduates, but then just sits around his house for years, overthinking everything—his past, his future, and every possible decision. He just keeps calculating which move would lead to what, and doesn’t take action, stuck in his routine. He wakes up late, eats, sleeps, and does this for 2-3 years, gaining weight and getting lazy. This is classic Saturn energy—stuck in inertia, too much thinking, and no real change.

What he needs is Martian energy. Mars would give him that itch to just stop overthinking and get off his butt. Mars doesn’t care about the calculations, the results, or the fear of failure. Mars says, "Just move, just do something." It’s the drive to act without worrying about everything else. Warriors with strong Mars energy don’t sit there calculating the consequences of battle. They don’t wonder about the families of the soldiers they face(poor them , how will they cope?) or whether they’ll survive and what their kids or family will do. They just charge forward with a battle cry, all in, without hesitation or fear. That’s Martian energy—the willingness to act, to fight, and to move, no matter what. It’s the antidote to the inertia of Saturn, breaking through the weight of hesitation and getting things done.

Mars in vedic astrology is called purushottam(the ultimate masculine). Those who are going through saturn Md or have a weak saturn are advised to worship and embody the enrgy of lord Karthikeya(god of war) or Hanuman to overcome the adverse affects of saturn , these two deities embody strong martian energy and helps one overcome adversities

Tokyo, Japan, is a perfect example of the positive side of Saturnian energy. Tokyo embodies saturnian energo to the core, so understand saturn you can study tokyo. The city runs on strict order, discipline, and routine. Trains arrive on time showing the punctuality aspect, people use public transport , and students clean their school toilets. This shows the humilty which saturn signifies. The compact living spaces, people live in such small houses showing restriction and work so hard .Everything is organized, clean, and everyone contributes to maintaining the system. The sexual restraint and everything.The adherence to routine, despite the challenges of a densely populated city, has led to its development and success. The people continue this cycle of responsibility and order, driven by Saturn’s pull to maintain structure and stability.

On the opposite side , a hugely populated city in India, showcases the negative aspects of Saturn’s inertia. Despite efforts to clean and maintain order, garbage piles up on the streets, and people continue to throw litter despite campaigns to encourage proper waste disposal. There is no order and the population is huge. Public spaces are often dirty, and people resist change, whether it's keeping their environment clean or following simple guidelines. This inertia extends to bureaucracy as well—administrative tasks are delayed endlessly, and people find themselves caught in endless cycles of inefficiency. Poverty, laziness, and a lack of motivation to improve contribute to the stagnation. Still complaining about how the Mughals and Brits ruined their culture which is kinda true but you have e to get 2 it, it’s over .Saturn’s energy here creates a system of stuckness, where nothing seems to move forward despite repeated efforts, showing how the same force that can build structure can also trap people in a cycle of stagnation and delay. Only a very strong , changing force can help the city move above this.

Different cities and even countries embody different energies. I love the place where I live , it’s calm and serene.

India as well.

The United States embodies Martian energy through its boldness, action, and drive to push forward. The country's foundation is built on independence, innovation, and a constant urge to conquer new frontiers. Americans often focus on immediate solutions, embracing risks and taking action rather than overanalyzing situations. It's unapologetic invasion of Iraq and afghanistan and spending a large sum of the tax money on R&D of weapons and military without hesitation or stressing too much about consequences shows the martian spirit. They can go to any possible length to get what they want and dont care about others. The culture of competition and success, seen in business, sports, and politics, reflects Mars' spirit of moving forward and overcoming obstacles without hesitation. The US thrives on speed, adapting quickly to challenges and constantly striving for more.

Idk about other texts but in ancient texts like Ramayana, the people in trouble or the protagonists never go on thinking like, why did I have to do that? It would have been different of that happened or they did that. That energy isn’t benefic in nature, in such cases martian energy is crucial to navigate through the difficulties

In conclusion, Saturn is like a glue or heavy weight that makes you feel burdened and cling to things. It makes the idea of change or moving forward difficult, as if you’re carrying an extremely heavy backpack. Imagine it’s freezing cold outside, and you’re in your cozy bed at 3 a.m., and someone asks you to get up and go out. That’s what being under Saturn’s influence feels like—holding onto comfort, resisting change, and feeling the weight of responsibility or fear, making every action seem harder than it truly is.

In opposition, Mars is like waking up on the morning of a beach vacation—no plans, no overthinking, just excitement to go with the flow and live in the present. It’s the energy that gets you out of bed, ready to explore, take risks, and enjoy the moment without worrying about the past or future. While Saturn makes you hesitate and weigh every step, Mars thrives on instinct and action, pushing you to just move forward and figure things out as you go. It’s freedom, momentum, and the thrill of simply doing.

Have a good one 🫶

[beenbaanbuun]

enemies w/ wooyoung

“i can’t believe i have to share a room with you,” wooyoung spits as he dumps his bag on the floor at the side of his bed. he wastes no time in throwing himself down onto the matress, keeping a stern aye on you as you make your way inside, “out of all the people on this trip, its you.”

you scoff as you follow him, slamming the door in your wake. trust you to draw the same colour marble as him. jung fucking wooyoung. number 1 on your hit list ever since the very first time he pulled your hair in junior school. hatred may have been a strong word, but it wasn’t nearly strong enough for the way you feel about him.

and now you have to spend the next week of your life in a combined space with him. perhaps you’ve done something wrong that the universe is punishing you for. maybe it’s a curse, or some evil spirit messing with you. you’re not entirely sure, but either way you’re certain something is out for your blood.

“the couch is available if you want it,” you snarl, barely able to keep a modicum of civility when it comes to wooyoung. there’s just something about him that makes you so inexplicably mad, “you know, if you have that much of a problem with me.”

“i’m fine here, actually,” he puts his hands behind his head in a display of arrogance. it’s difficult not to go over there and slap it out of him as you move to sit on your own bed, “but you can go and sleep there if you want; you won’t find me stopping you.”

you scoff, “what exactly is your problem with me?”

it’s hypocritical of you to ask that, you know. if anyone has the problem, its you. you’re the one who’s always fought against him; eye rolls and back handed comments the only things you give him whenever he’s around you. and you’re the one who’s always arguing with him over the tiniest of things, even if you know deep down that he’s actually right. some days you can’t even find a reason behind your incessant need to hate him, but that never stops you.

he’s just so annoying.

“you’re a stuck up little princess,” wooyoung supplies with that cocky grin still spread across his face. god, what you wouldn’t do to wipe that away and put him in his place; it’s almost a desperate need that you have to knock him down a few pegs.

“anything else, youngie,” you throw the nickname at him like it’s an insult. he catches it effortlessly, chuckling at your attempt to throw him off.

“yes,” he pushes himself from the mattress, sitting himself up straight so he can look at you; look down at where you lay on the bed beside him. so cute, with your arms crossed over your chest in a petulant attempt to act tough in front of him. it doesn’t work, your little act. not with the way your arms push your tits together, making your cleavage look so fuckable. wooyoung’s dick twitches in his sweatpants, “most of my problems are about you, actually.”

cliche, you think as you roll your eyes; of course he thinks you’re the cause of all his problems. just because he doesn’t like you, doesn’t mean he has to blame everything on you.

still, you’re curious.

when he starts talking again, you’re all ears.

“like how you think you’re so tough when you’re being a condescending little brat, when actually it just makes me want to pull you over my lap and make you scream,” the words take a second to sink in, but when they do, your jaw drops. he smirks, “or when you bite your lips when you’re mad; it just makes me think about how pretty they’d look wrapped around my cock.”

you can’t help the way your eyes flicker to the crotch of his sweats. he’s hard, or halfway there at least. fucking huge too, by the looks of it. you dart out your tongue to lap at your dry lips. holy fuck, what’s happening to you.

“and do you know that i see these pretty little things in my dreams?” a single finger brushes gently over your nipple, hard and visible through the thin material of your t-shirt. you suck in a sharp breath, barely catching a moan before it slips out, “wake up covered in my own cum every single time. dream you is just such a good little slut for me.”

the hand that sits gently on your tit begins to move, climbing gently up your chest until it lands on your neck. he squeezes down lightly, your head spinning under the barely there pressure.

“it’s a shame real life you takes a little more taming, hm?” wooyoung drawls as he bends down to your level. warmth spreads across your face as your lifelong enemy blows a stream of cold air over your face, chuckling to himself when you shiver.

how the fuck had you let this happen? one second you’re sure you had the high ground, and the next you have a hand around your throat and wetness leaking from your pussy. part of you wants to fight back. spit in his face and push him away. set a boundary and let him know that this, whatever the fuck this is, will never happen.

what scares you is that an even bigger part of you is begging you to give in.

and it’s a really shame that you’ve never been very good at saying no to yourself. it makes it borderline impossible for you to listen to that ever-shrinking part of your brain that’s telling you to run.

“wooyoung,” you whisper, although youre not even sure of your next words yourself. you haven’t decided whether this is going to happen or not. whether you’re going to let him tame you like he so clearly wants to. you open your mouth, hoping to all that is holy that you make a good choice.

“what do you want, baby?”

“fuck me,” you say.

oh…

“such a good girl.”

[teeny-tiny-revenge]

Today I'm thinking about Ed's reaction to the marmalade. No, not about that it's very good. (I wanted a gif of this moment and it was the only one I could find.)

I'm thinking about Ed's face after Stede's "Ship's stores are loaded with it. Had to get rid of some gunpowder, but I think it was the right decision."

Ed is surprised, shocked maybe, but you never get the idea that Ed thinks the load of marmalade is frivolous or a waste of space (as a lot of other characters would!). But Ed's eyes are wide with wonder. Ed is impressed. Ed is fucking inspired. (And a little bit in love already, but that's beside the point.)

Because Ed is a survivor. Ed has built his entire life around surviving, and he's successful at it, he's going grey in a career that tends to cut your life pretty short, he's built this entire act and persona up for the sole purpose of ensuring his safety and survival, and when challenged and threatened later in the series (before he completely loses his will to continue surviving like this) we see Ed throw away anything pleasurable in favour of holding up the sword and shield of Blackbeard and the Kraken.

Ed is a guy who has learned to prioritise survival over anything else. Ed's stores are certainly full of gunpowder, no space for even a jar of marmalade left. Ed lived a life, from young age on, that taught him that he doesn't get to have nice, pleasurable, fun and comforting things. He keeps his one nice comforting scrap hidden away inside his leather armour. He has more money than you can shake a stick at, but he doesn't have any luxuries. He doesn't even have comforts. He has knick-knacks. But he doesn't have soft robes to sleep in, he doesn't have the damn good whiskey Stede keeps in his cabin (although he could easily afford it!), and he certainly doesn't have good marmalade. Ed doesn't treat himself. Ed is a survival guy and he has survival necessities. Ed only has gunpowder. He doesn't have marmalade.

And here comes Stede, with his fancy boat full of fancy things that aren't helpful to survive on the seas. It's a ship full of joyful little pleasures. It's got a library, a nice cozy fireplace, two fucking chandeliers (overkill!), it's stocked with good brandy, and two full closets of nice clothes, and its captain prioritised tasty marmalade for breakfasts over gunpowder for survival.

Because the Revenge isn't built for survival. Stede was done surviving (he'd run away from just surviving). He was probably aware he might not have a long life out on the sea, but Stede didn't come to survive. Stede came to live. And he was going to live to the fullest. He stocked his ship with all the things that he found make life worth living. (Stede later learns that he doesn't need all the things to enjoy life, but that he needs friends and his lover, but that's not the point here.) Stede designed his ship to be fun. To be a nice place to live. The Revenge is full of creature comforts. A full bathtub! Can you imagine Ed to have a full bathtub on his old ship? I can't. Because Ed has spend his life so busy surviving that until he's almost dead he doesn't stop to consider what makes his life worth living. And then it's so simple things he comes up with. (Creature comforts!)

Ed has lived a life of denying himself nice things in favour of things he hates but that are "safe". Ed lives in a house full of gunpowder. And he's choking on it, it's killing him, but he doesn't think there's another way. And then comes a guy who goes "oh actually, I replaced a lot of my gunpowder (not all btw) with this super tasty marmalade so I can have nice breakfasts". And to Ed that's life changing. Look at his face next time you rewatch, when he turns to Stede. This is a guy who just had an epiphany, who just had someone crumble his world view in the best of ways. You don't only have to keep gunpowder. You can also have marmalade, because marmalade is nice. You should live rather than just survive.

And we see Ed try to embrace this. With Stede, and for a brief time before Izzy happens to him, even on his own, Ed lets himself have nice things. He wears comforting clothes and eats the marmalade from the stores. Because it's nice to live a little even when you're sad. And then he goes back to just surviving, and he can't do it. He's tasted marmalade, he can't deal with being stuck with nothing but gunpowder anymore.

But he does survive, and Stede comes back, and they spend the night together and the next morning Blackbeard's getup is tossed away tied to a cannonball (a companion to the gunpowder), and for Ed there's toast with marmalade in bed.

Because Ed chose life. And to live means to have things to enjoy. Like good marmalade to start the day.

[stevesgother]

Strange - S.H

Pairing - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC - 2.1k

Contains - angst, hurt/comfort, swearing, alcohol consumption, mentions of addiction, mentions of childhood trauma, exes to lovers, second chance romance

AN - Part 2 of 'Little Red Lighthouse' ! for the sake of not having to use “y/n” bc i hate it, reader goes by Lizzy. Use your imagination idk

'Isn't it strange/how people can change/from strangers to friends/friends into lovers/and strangers again.' - 'Strange' by Celeste

There was a biting chill to the air as you sat shoulder to shoulder on a rock overlooking the lake with your best friend. The shadow from the towering lighthouse did nothing to help your lack of warmth, but the heat radiating off Steve’s body beside you almost made up for it. In his hands he held a worn piece of notebook paper adorned with his signature scratchy handwriting, slightly crumpled from hours of reading and rereading; frustration bleeding between the inky blue lines.

“I don’t even know why I'm bothering with this shit,” he sighs, “dad thinks college is a waste of time anyway,” he gives the paper one last squeeze in his fist before chucking it into the water.

“Steve!--” you practically shriek, “what’d you do that for?!”

“Cause’ Liz, we both know I’m not getting accepted anywhere worth going to,” he says with finality, like he’s already made up his mind despite it only being January, “and you’re gonna go somewhere fancy schmancy like Feinburg while I rot here,”

“Well certainly with that attitude you will,” he shoots you a deadpan look from where his head is propped in his hands. “Stop worrying about what your parents want, Steve. What do you want?”

“Right now I want to get off this boulder. It’s fuckin’ freezing out here,” the end of his sentence is muffled by his cupped hands around his mouth, huffing into them in an attempt to bring some warmth back into his numbing fingertips.

“I’m perfect, actually.” you feign self-assuredness just to tease him. He knows you’re cold too, the tip of your nose is bright red and frozen to the touch, giving you away.

“Oh, are you?”

“Yeah” you chirp, “I am,”

“Oh, okay,” just then he slides what could've been an icicle but really was just a frigid hand up your shirt and presses it firmly to the small of your balmy back, earning a squeal from you.

“Asshole!” you shove him away playfully and he removes his hand, deciding for once, to spare you. 

You spend the rest of the night bundled under layers of quilts, watching movies your mother rented from Family Video that afternoon as snow falls from the pale sky in big, fat flakes. At some point during the second film, you feel yourself curl into his lap where he’s seated on your sofa, fighting and losing a battle with sleep. Just before slumber overtakes you, you note the feeling of his hand tracing soothing circles over your spine. The arm that isn’t holding you against his torso snakes around to tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear, selfishly so he can steal an unobstructed view of your peaceful expression.

He almost enjoys being with you more when you’re sleeping. Not because he doesn’t adore listening to your winding tangents or your infectious laughter, but because you can’t see him unabashedly staring at you when your eyes have drifted shut like they are now. It’s as if the world has stopped spinning on its axis and time has halted just for him. His own personal sleeping beauty. You looked like the rest of his life.

Memories have a mortifying way of appearing gold in hindsight; nostalgia like a knife that’s gutted him, leaving him emptier than he was before. Now, whenever the air gets older, Steve is reminded of how your presence used to feel.

–

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Stepping into his orbit for the first time in all these years, the love you still have for him beats inside your chest like a second heart. You long to reach out and touch him, to weave your fingers through the hair at the back of his head and nuzzle your face into the tender skin of his neck, to cry how sorry you are and ask “How could you let me leave you?’--

“You look well,” the low register of his voice shakes you from your spiral and you remember with a sharp pang of guilt just how long it's been since you heard him speak. You feel like he’s taller now than when you left, even though he hit his last growth spurt during the last summer you spent together. A soft dusting of hair that wasn’t there before graces his upper lip. That cheeky, boyish charm you always loved had suddenly morphed into something more gruff. It made your stomach churn.

“Thanks, I don’t–” you cut yourself off with a soft shake of your head, “Thanks, Steve. You do too,”

He gives a meek shrug as he glances down at himself. There was simultaneously so much and yet nothing at all to say, and the silence was suffocating.

“How long are you in town for?” he asks, hoping the answer is indefinitely but knowing it won’t be.

“For a week, then I have to go back to the city,” you struggle to ignore the subtle disappointment that flashes across his features. “I was offered an internship in graphic design. It starts next month.” You say with a tight lipped smile. You wished you wanted that, but now that you were home, all you wanted was to stand under Steve’s gaze like a bug under a magnifying glass.

“That’s wonderful, Lizzy. I’m really happy for you.” Of course he was happy for you. If this was what you wanted, Steve was thrilled for you. But in all the 15 years you’d been inseparable, he’d never once seen you take an interest in graphic design. Maybe it was because your father was an architect. Your mother, an artist. To not follow in their footsteps, Steve knew, would make you feel like you failed them. It doesn’t change the way he can see your expression faltering when you utter even a word about your future career.

“You– what about you? Are you working for your dad?” 

“No, actually, I took over for Hopper. At the station.”

This time, Steve’s blessed with your real smile. A genuine one. You never wanted the alternative for Steve. Being constantly surrounded by corporate goons, taking over the family business just to be miserable and burnt out in less than a decade. The boy never could make up his mind about what it was that he really wanted to do, but he knew it wasn’t that. The trouble was, Steve only ever felt like he belonged somewhere when he was anywhere with you.

A gentle hand to his bicep sends him reeling, and it’s all he can do not grab you by your shoulders and pull you into his chest with as much force as he can muster. But the moment is gone as soon as it arrives, and you’re being whisked away by some other friend who’s vying for your attention. Absently he wonders if he left, would people miss him the way they seemed to have missed you? He supposes it’s best not to dwell.

–

When you arrive home later, the house is empty with a note from your parents stuck to the fridge claiming they’re out tonight. You’re grateful for the reprieve from socialization as you pad your way upstairs and down the hall towards your childhood bedroom.

It looks almost identical to when you left it, with the exception of a spare unrecognizable object here or there. Things your parents must have picked up for you at some point with the hopes of being able to give it to you the next time you visited home, but never could. Your mother had made your bed neatly, adorned with all the stuffed animals and bedding from your youth. Everywhere you turned, there were mementos of your lifelong friendship with Steve. Greyscale photo booth pictures, old movie stubs and the dried remnants of the corsage he gave you for prom. It was a memorial; a cemetery of your life together.

When you finally managed to lie down, all you did was toss and turn until the analog clock tick tick ticking on your wall informed you it was one A.M. In your sleep deprived haze you absentmindedly sat up and reached for the baby blue corded phone resting on your nightstand. It was only when you brought the phone to your ear and heard the droning dial tone that you realized what you were doing, and set the phone back in its cradle. Your fingers ached to press the digits to the only number you knew by heart: Steve Harrington.

–

You weren’t sure why your mom kept renewing her Cosmopolitan subscription for you, since you hardly took interest in the issues, but she did nonetheless. Tonight, struggling to find something more productive to do, your curiosity got the better of you as you mindlessly flipped through the pages with freshly manicured nails. It was a Friday, and the prospect of sleeping in tomorrow delighted you. You were in no hurry to get to bed. 

Just then you heard the shrill ringing of the new phone your parents got you to keep in your bedroom for your birthday. You knew it had to be at least twelve o’clock in the morning. Only one person would be calling you at this hour.

“Hello?”

“Hey, can I– can I come over?” Steve's voice was hushed and trembling. Muffled yelling could be heard in the background over his unsteady breathing.

“Steve? Yeah, ‘course, I'll unlock my window,” you pause, “everything okay?”

“Yeah just– I’ll be there in ten,” and with that you heard the receiver click back into its place on the wall.

Magazine having been discarded on the floor next to your bed, you sat at your desk, knee bouncing rapidly as you waited for Steve to climb through your window like he had dozens of times before. At sixteen, you’d be caught dead having a boy in your room at this hour, even if it was just Steve.

You hear a soft tap tap tap on the glass, signifying his arrival. In a rush, you hurry over to your window to help him in. When he regains his balance with both feet on your carpeted floor, you’re finally able to get a good look at him. He’s bleary eyed and his nose is chapped raw, like he’d been rubbing at it continuously for hours. 

“Hey,” you say softly with a gentle hand to his forearm, “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” You feel guilty pressing him on the matter immediately, but you can count on one hand the amount of times you've seen Steve genuinely distressed. Last Halloween when Nancy Wheeler had proclaimed that he and their whole relationship was ‘bullshit’ had been the last time.

“Mom and dad were fighting. I guess– I guess he found these pills she’s been taking? I don’t know,” he looks dejected as he fidgets with the hem of his sweater, “Jus’ couldn’t listen to it anymore.”

Your eyes round into saucers when you looked to him, concern gracing your features. It was always something with the Harringtons. If they weren’t screaming at each other, they were screaming at Steve. Catherine had substance abuse issues, John was violent. Broken dishes and holes punched in drywall were becoming the norm. All Steve wanted was a way out; an escape. You gave that to him. Always.

Without another word, you propped yourself up on your tiny twin bed and motioned with open arms for him to come lie with you. He accepted the invitation instantly, sinking down into the mattress with you. His head rested on your chest, just above your rapidly beating heart. A heart that beat for him alone. You silently prayed he knew that.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence and softly petting his hair, you felt two distinct drops of tears land on the silky satin of your pajama shirt. You attempted not to make a scene, with the knowledge of how difficult it was for him to be vulnerable. Instead, you simply continued your ministrations on the back of his head and held him a little tighter.

“It’s okay, Stevie,” you whispered against the crown of his head, “You’re safe now. We’re gonna get out of here someday, y'know? I promise.”

He nodded bleakly in acknowledgment against your sternum as his tears fell a little quicker and a little harder. “Okay,” he whimpered. The sound nearly tore you in two.

You’d never intended on breaking that promise. Not really.

–

Against your better judgement, you reached for your phone a second time and dialed his number for the first time in five years. You hoped he didn’t get a new landline.

His voice was gravely and thick with grogginess when he picked up after six torturous rings, “Hello?”

“Meet me tomorrow. DiBella’s. Ten o’clock.”

You slammed the phone back into the receiver before you had time to regret it.

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