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#I should put tags down more often...
madangel19 · 1 year
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I posted 34,086 times in 2022
90 posts created (0%)
33,996 posts reblogged (100%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@aconfusedidentity
@the-dashing-mx-ollandre
@goldemas1244
@a-thousand-wasps-in-a-trenchcoat
@leviathan-the-boy
I tagged 1,323 of my posts in 2022
#stranger things spoilers - 26 posts
#helluva boss spoilers - 23 posts
#the band ghost - 20 posts
#ghost bc - 19 posts
#oh damn 😳 - 17 posts
#what in tarnation - 17 posts
#sonic the hedgehog 2 spoilers - 16 posts
#fanfiction - 15 posts
#ghost band - 13 posts
#body horror tw - 13 posts
Longest Tag: 103 characters
#i love con clavi con dio but i'm certain i'll summon a demon if i sing it in the middle of the night xd
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Already got an idea for another Ghost fic!
A child gets in a car wreck with her parents that happens to be close to the ministry. Both parents are dead and child goes to the nearby church for help and a sister of sin takes her in and brings her to Papa 4. Papa hears her story and then asks if she has any other family and she says no, so he offers to let her live at the ministry. Child accepts and she then gets to live in the church and explores and learns all about it. Lots of bittersweet stuff ensues.
Been seeing lots of sweet pics and vids of the Papas interacting with young fans and wanted to do something cute
11 notes - Posted November 12, 2022
#4
 A sneak peak of my Ghost/Scooby Doo fic for ya’ll :3
There were eight, no, nine figures in the red-lit room that resembled the main stage. Eight of these figures were clad in all black and each one wore a terrifying black horned mask. The more he looked the more demonic they became. They surrounded a ninth figure who was dressed like he ran a church, but something felt very bad. He was swinging some strange smoking device around as the others played different instruments. 
“Siamo con clavi, siamo con Dio
Siamo con il nostro Dio scuro,” the main figure sang in a ghostly tone.
They were summoning demons! This was bad. Really really bad. Ghosts he was used to, but this was much more sinister and dangerous. He had to find Shaggy. No, he had to find everyone and warn them. 
Scooby turned and came face to face with one of those masked monsters. It hissed in his face and pushed him forward, making him yelp and fall through the door. 
The music stopped instantly. Scooby looked back and saw that the creature that pushed him had vanished. He heard low voices whispering amongst themselves and he whipped his head around to find that he was surrounded by those eight confused and slightly agitated masked creatures. Scooby was at a loss for words as he looked at each one. All he could see and sense were bad intentions and bared teeth as some growled at him.
“Ruh-roh,” he managed to whimper, trembling like a leaf. The eight figures stepped back, letting their obvious leader come forward. Everything about this one felt evil to Scooby as a single pale eye looked down at him. The man’s painted face appeared frozen in a scowl before he smiled and chuckled darkly.
“Ahh, we have a visitor. You look nervous, piccolo amico,” he crowed in an Italian accent as he bent down to face him properly.
Scooby found the energy he so desperately needed and he let out a howling scream, kicking the man towards the creatures and jumping to his feet to run. He didn’t dare look back as those other creatures let out alarmed cries.
“Ah! Cazzo! Get him!” The man exclaimed.
Let me know what ya’ll think so far. I’m having a lot of fun with this :D
Also @space-is-a-paradox enjoy ^-^
11 notes - Posted November 2, 2022
#3
Getting 3 of my wisdom teeth removed in an hour. Wish me luck y’all ✌🏼
11 notes - Posted October 14, 2022
#2
God, I’m such a simp for TFP Starscream :’D
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12 notes - Posted April 18, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Ghost (Sweden Band), Scooby Doo - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Papa Emeritus IV, Nameless Ghoul(s), Scooby Doo, Norville "Shaggy" Rogers, Velma Dinkley, Daphne Blake, Fred Jones, Original Female Character(s), Hex Girls (Scooby Doo), Muffy St. James | Dusk, Kimberly "Kim" Moss | Luna, Sally McKnight | Thorn Additional Tags: Mystery, Minor Violence, Recreational Drug Use, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change Summary:
Scooby and the gang have another mystery on their hands after being invited as VIP guests for the Hex Girls who are the opening act for the mysterious and ghoulish band, Ghost, in a mysterious theater. One of Papa's ghouls has been framed for attacking an employee of the theater, but Papa insists that his ghouls would never do such a thing unless provoked. Can Scooby and his friends prove the band's innocence before the big show begins or will more people be attacked by the mystery ghoul, resulting in the show to be cancelled and Ghost being sent away?
Chapter 3 up! Check it out ya’ll :D
13 notes - Posted November 14, 2022
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invinciblerodent · 2 months
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y'know one might think that in a fandom where every single character is bi or pan, people would be at least kinda normal about bi people. but god, even here, even now, there's just.... so much casual biphobia everywhere.
it's... disheartening.
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pepprs · 7 months
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cool so my ent just made my ear bleed. im never going back to see her again.
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maiko-san · 3 months
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Catnap + Dogday x Reader ( Part 2 )
<<< Part 1 , Part 3 >>>
Relationship: Fluff
Character focused: Dogday, Fem! Reader
Plot : You're giving Dogday a groom after he got himself covered in mud.
A/n : I will try to include the other Smiling Critters in here, they deserve love too.
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A month has passed and things went on normally with your life. All the Smiling Critters get a minor check up everyday either by you or other coworkers.
These mascots work with children 24/7, they often are climbed on, tugged around or have paints/food stuck on their fur.
"I guess that's all of it"
"Oooh! My mane looks even prettier and shiny than before!"
You just finished cleaning up Craftycorn from all the glitters and paint off her white coat and cyan hair. Which took you half an hour to clean.
You put on a pink bow on her braided mane so she looks cuter.
"I really love how you do my mane! You know, we should do this more often! You're so creative, just like ME!"
" *chuckles* I'm glad that you like it, Craftycorn but I am NOT that creative as you are"
You dismiss the unicorn and give a handful of candy for her to enjoy. You call in the other mascot and Dogday pops his head in.
The dog is covered in mud from head to toe.
"Now, what did you get yourself into this time, Dogday?"
It was the third time this week.
Dogday only looks away, both hands on his back as he kicks his feet.
"KickinChicken and I got carried away while playing football, sorry..." /he lied.
You quirk an eyebrow, you know Dogday is really bad at lying. There are no muds at the football field since the field has fake grass carpet.
You wonder where he got all the mud from....oh well.
To Dogday, he likes being around you and wants to see you everyday but the other staff members didn't let him. Not even for a bit.
So the only way for the smiling critters to see you was to getting themselves dirty, either by accident or on purpose.
For Dogday, he did it on purpose so he could see you.
You usher the mascot on to the large bathtub so you could wash him up. You run the warm water over his body and rinsing the mud from his fur.
You know that they can clean themselves up but they seem to prefer having you to clean them.
It's a lot of work to clean a two story high mascot but it's fun.
You and the smiling critters would have a conversation, sometimes the smiling critters would tell them about their days.
Like a child telling their parents what they do at school.
"How's your day at the play care today?"
"It's really fun! We do a lot of things!"
"Oh, really? Tell me all about it. I'm curious"
"We play tag, we play hide n seek, we play red light green light with everyone! It was fun!"
"Did you have fun playing football with KickinChicken?"
"Oh, yes I did! The football was fun but what's even more fun is when you play in the mud!"
"Oh, really? KickinChicken just came a few hours ago and he told me he had fun playing skateboard"
"I—"
"Ha! Gotcha!"
You smirk as Dogday hangs his head down slightly. You scrub off the dirt from his ear and tell him that it's fine if he wants to see you.
Just don't get himself dirty all the time.
"The other staffs doesn't let me see you..."
"And why is that?"
"They said you stole their work...."
"....."
Recently your coworker has been glaring behind your back, gossiping and telling you to quit your job. Saying you were proud of your work which you never at all.
It is not entirely your fault that the mascots prefer you over them.
You knew how these mascots were treated before. It was during your interview at the playcare and your manager gave you a tour around the place.
You witnessed how the maintenance workers strapped these mascots in a tiny space and treated them like a wild animal.
"It is our fault wasn't it?"
"No, it's not. I'll deal with that matter myself and it is not yours to worry, alright"
You gave the canine mascot an assuring pat on the head which he leans into and his tail wagging behind him. You continue with your work and dry him in the blower machine and then you begin to groom his fur.
You notice that his fur had gotten longer by the day, so you decide to give him a little trim.
You hold his large paw, combing out the matted fur and snip some of them so it looks neat.
You did the same thing with his ears and chests.
Dogday watches you do you work, out of all staffs in this place. You are the nicest and the most gentle out of all staffs. You never strap them down or keep them in a small cage.
You treat them like a real person.
Like they used to be.
Dogday wants more from you, he wants to feel loved by someone. Someone that cares for him and everyone's well being unlike those scientists....
You care for him, so he will do the same to you.
You are his angel, after all....
"Alright, everything's done!"
You fix his collar and give his pendant a little shine. You decide to wrap a red scarf around his neck to compliment his orange colour.
"Is this for me, angel?"
"Yeah, it suits you well"
Dogday brings you into a tight hug, with his tail wagging aggressively behind his back. It seems the canine couldn't contain his excitement.
I mean, who doesn't like gifts? Especially from someone you like!
"Thank you! I will cherish it, always!"
"You're welcome, bud"
A/n : Since the first chapter received a good amount of views, here is the second chapter for all of you, sweeties!
I will assume that Dogday is the oldest out of all Smiling Critters, maybe around 13-15. We don't have a clue who Dogday really is but I decided to make him one of the older orphans.
Also, all the Smiling Critters in my stories share sibling relationships! and the reader is their oldest sibling or maybe parent figure! ☺️
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ceilidho · 5 months
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prompt: Ghost only takes you half-seriously when you say you want to see other people. He has just the man in mind. tags: dubcon; threesome; anal (2.5k)
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He doesn’t so much as twitch when you stumble over your words in an effort to get it out.
“I don’t think this is working,” you say, hands clenched into trembling fists at your sides. “I think we should start seeing other people.”
The only bit of it that Ghost really pays attention to is the fact that you decided to make this little announcement while he’s in the middle of taking apart and cleaning his gun at the kitchen table. His little spitfire girl. Not a lick of fear in you, just a fistful of attitude and snark. The attitude’s ensconced now in your trepidation, a bit smothered under it, nervousness a clear trill in your voice, making it warble, but it shows itself in the downward slant of your brows. Delightful girl.
“That right?” he grunts, jamming the lubricated cotton mop into the bore of the gun. You flinch at the sudden movement, nervous eyes trained on his hands. Ghost makes a note to apologize with his mouth later on.
“Yes,” you croak, then cough to clear your throat. “I’ve, um…I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I think it’ll be better for—for both of us. It’s just…it’s not working out.”
The cigarette dangling from between his lips stinks up the room. Poor girl, he thinks pityingly when you scrunch up your nose and eye it resentfully. Always trying to get him to quit. It’s just shit luck for you that he’s never been good at quitting things, at letting anything go. Everything he’s ever lived through clings to his skin like smoke. 
He ashes it out in the little turquoise ceramic pot on the table, a trinket he’d once picked up in Tala'a Kebira years ago while in Morocco on some other business. You look marginally less irked with the cig put out, but that just means that more of his attention can focus squarely on you, which leaves you a bit wide-eyed under his stare.
“For a while, hm?” Ghost asks. It comes out teasingly, if only to him. The lilt in his voice is a tricky one to catch.
You nod; the note must have slipped through your hands like smoke. “There’s a girl I found online that’s studying abroad right now. Offered to sublet me her room while I look for a place. I thought maybe, um…maybe tomorrow I’d go.”
“Don’t worry about all of that,” he says, already dismissing the conversation from his mind. “Won’t be back for another week anyway—no reason for you to run off if I’m not even around.”
“Oh.” You shift from side to side, thinking it over. “I guess. How long will you be gone?”
“A week. Two weeks tops.” Plenty of time for him to sort out this mess. Figure out what exactly caused you to get all jumpy and eager to try out other people. 
He smiles internally. Little bird probably just can’t stand how often he’s away, poor thing. It’d be enough to make any girl upset—the constant leaves of absence, gone months without being able to send word, showing up bruised and bloody on the doorstep only to have you fall to pieces trying to put him back together. 
There are options though. He’s not opposed to adding someone new either—in fact, he has just the man in mind. 
Ghost has been holding Johnny back because he always thought you preferred to just be with one man (and Christ, the whining he’d had to deal with from Johnny, always begging to see you or begging Ghost for even just your panties, anything at all because he was so desperate and Ghost wouldn’t let him have you), but now?
Now there’s no reason to hold Johnny by the collar when he comes over for dinner. Now there’s no reason to kick Johnny from under the table when he leans just a bit too close to you when you’re sitting down to eat, eyes locked on the glimpse of your chest peeking out of your shirt and damn near drooling on it. Now there’s no reason to listen to Johnny jack himself off to the point of tears while trying to get some shut eye on a mission, the only crumpled up photo that Ghost had ever allowed him to take cupped close to his face.
He really pitied the poor mutt before, no pretty girl at home, his only crush being his superior’s girl. But Ghost is magnanimous—he’s a generous man. If you want to see other people, he has the perfect puppy for you to play with.
When you smile, still a bit unsure, he has to smother a grin. “Okay. I’ll stay ‘till then and look.”
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The look Johnny gives him when he brings it up is equal parts disbelief and fevered need. “Say that again, Lt?”
“You’re coming over after we wrap this shit up. Bird’s been asking about a third.”
He chokes, scrambling to his feet. The temporary base is damp, always on the frigid side of things so Johnny’s still in uniform for the most part, the fabric rustling in his haste to get up off his bed. It’s not a place either of them are eager to spend more time in than absolutely necessary. The lack of space means that the two of them are made to bunk together as always, sharing a room with two cots and a small en suite, the tub still wet from Ghost’s shower.
“Christ, yer serious? No joke, sir?”
Johnny pushes his head back into Ghost’s hand when Ghost reels him by the hair, dropping a firm close-mouthed kiss onto the centre of his forehead through the fabric of the mask. “She was clear about it. Why? Gettin’ cold feet on me now?”
“No, sir,” Johnny protests, shaking his head as much as he can in Ghost’s grip, eyes shimmering a bit. “I can bring over a bottle o’ wine if ye like. Somethin’ fancy to set the mood.”
Their closeness is not unusual; Johnny’s always been a tactile man, favouring touch over words. One of their small similarities; their shared modes of existing in the world. There’s a line in the sand where you’re concerned that Ghost has been clear on, but he’s used to always having a hand somewhere on Soap, keeping him close. Now, he gets to keep him even closer. 
His bird really has the best ideas. 
Ghost snorts, knocks their heads together. “Just bring yourself, pup.”
He ignores the way Johnny’s breath hitches, the way he hurries into the bathroom and slams the door behind him the second Ghost lets go. The frantic eager sounds from behind the door when the water runs, only muffling the loudest of his groans. He probably had his dick choked in his fist the second the door shut, a thick nut swirling down the drain within the first five minutes. 
They ship out the next morning, exhausted from the week’s work. No amount of sleep out in the field is ever good enough, especially not in cots barely built to accommodate men of their size. Especially not Ghost. Johnny dozes off on his shoulder in the plane, sinking into a deep sleep to compensate for the hours spent tossing and turning the night before. Ghost uses the flight to get a headstart on his paperwork, enough so that he’s not held up on base when they land back home. 
He doesn’t give you a heads up that he’s home earlier than planned; no need to give you enough time to pack a bag and schlep it over to that place you’d found. It’s better for everyone if you’re caught a bit off guard, just a little frazzled. Ghost’s not entirely unsympathetic—he knows you’ll overthink things if he gives you any time to yourself. 
It’s endearing the way you gape up at him, eyes flitting between him and Johnny, when he finally makes it home. For the few times that Johnny’s been over, it’s not an everyday thing; his visits are always planned and strictly timed, Ghost monitoring him to make sure he doesn’t overstep his bounds. Seeing him with Ghost in your foyer must be strange, must put you on edge. 
“Simon, you didn’t tell me you were—” you start and then pause, swallowing. You look over his shoulder at Johnny, smile stiff, uncomfortable. “Hi Johnny.” 
You’re always a good girl, not wanting to argue in front of company. 
“Heel,” Ghost says, steel in his voice when Johnny almost lurches from his side. The other man glances over at him with wild eyes, almost on the brink of disobeying, but he holds in the end and stays put. Ghost’s eyes soften when he looks back at you. “Have a nice week, pet?”
“Yes—sorry, I’m glad you’re home safe,” you say, flustered, taking his back from him to drop in the usual place in the hall. “I, um—” again, you eye Johnny nervously, unsure of how much you can say in front of him, “—I found a place…for…you know.” 
“‘Course,” Ghost agrees, shucking his boots at the door and giving Johnny a shake by his coat until he does the same. “Missed you too, pet. C’mere.” 
He muffles your protests with his mouth when he stalks forward and pulls you in for a wet kiss, rolling the mask up and off at the same time. You’re a bit stiff in his arms until he slips you some tongue and the resistance leaks out of you, helpless the second he gets his hands on you. Your eyes are still a bit misty when he pulls away, fingers clutched in the collar of his shirt like a reflex. Second nature to cling to him. His chest puffs up at the gesture.
“Thought about what you said the other week, bird, and you’re right.”
You blink, coherence coming back to you, shaking your head to divest yourself of the momentary confusion. “I am?”
“‘Course. Smartest girl in the world, isn’t she, Johnny?” Ghost asks over his shoulder, slipping a hand into your hair at the same time to hold you in place. It makes you frown, his actions not mirroring his words. 
“Aye, sir,” Johnny hums, nodding eagerly. Boots off, he stumbles forward, crowding around you from the other side, not realizing that they’ve backed you into a wall until it presses against you, trapping you in place. “Bonnie ‘n sharp as a whip. Always thought so, sir.” 
“That’s right,” he agrees, tightening his fingers in your hair until you squeal, brows furrowing in that way they do when you’re right on the precipice of pain and relief. “Only a smart, brave girl would ask for what she needs. You’re just lonely when I’m away, isn’t that right, pet?”
“I’m—I’m what?” you splutter, hands planted on Ghost’s chest, trying to push him away to no avail. He hardly notices it. 
“Go on, Johnny,” Ghost murmurs. “Since she asked so nicely. Give her a kiss.”
That’s all his mutt needs to hear. 
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You huff and puff with the strain it takes to take Ghost’s cock after a week and a half away. 
You’re always tighter when he comes back, an effort to work you up to taking him again; he lets Johnny get you prepped this time, slobbering all over your pussy in his eagerness, plugging you with three fingers before you’re even close to ready. He gets off on the way you howl, rutting his cock into the sheets of your bed while he keeps you pinned by a thick arm over your stomach. 
Ghost has to scruff him after that. He takes over, running a soothing tongue over where it hurts until you cry big, fat tears and come a couple times. He makes sure you’re taken care of before it gets tough. You’re mindless by the time he moves off you to retrieve the lube from the bedside drawer, only coming back to yourself when he turns you over onto your belly and spreads the cheeks of your ass. It unwinds something in his chest to hear you yelp when he pushes a finger into your ass, like coming home. 
This is why he does what he does: to get this when the job is done. 
It’s not often he gets to do this, usually too big for you to take comfortably in your ass. Johnny’s not that much smaller, in fairness, so he works you up to two and then three fingers before lying down on the bed and pulling you over him. Your legs tremble when you straddle him, fingers digging into his chest when he lowers you onto his cock for the first time in a week. 
“There we go,” he says, grunting when you pull his chest hair a little. “That’s a good girl. We just about done crying now?” 
Ghost smiles when you shake your head stubbornly, eyes still filled with tears. “This isn’t what I meant, Simon.”
“You can cuss me out when Johnny’s done, alright? That make you happy?” 
He almost chuckles when Johnny clambers back onto the bed in his haste to get his hands back on you, his pants still hanging off an ankle until he gives it a shake once his palms fit over your waist. 
“Slowly, pup,” Ghost cautions, reaching around to spread a cheek. He coos when you flinch, whispering for you to relax. 
Johnny’s eyes roll back into his head when he pushes in, hips stuttering forward until Ghost snarls and he stops, letting out a deep, shuddering breath to calm himself down. Even for Ghost, it’s intense; you tighten around him when Johnny pushes in, only letting up when he cups your cheek and draws you down for a kiss, loosening you up with his tongue. 
“Sir, I can—fuck, fuck, fuck,” Johnny whines, back curving when he drops his head. “She’s so fuckin’ tight, I can—swear I can feel you, sir.”
He’s not wrong. Ghost swears he can feel it himself, Johnny’s cock in his pretty bird’s ass while his is stuffed deep in your cunt. You pant through the stretch, words half-croaked out, unintelligible. It’s better that way. He loves listening to you sing, but you’ve been in a right mood these past couple of weeks. Just needed a good lay to sort you out. 
“Simon,” Johnny begs, thrusting forward until he bottoms out in you, making your pulse skyrocket. “I cannae breathe.”
“Yes, you can,” Ghost says dismissively, wiping at the drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth. “Give ‘er a sec and then you can move.”
“So, so, so hot. ‘M gonna come—”
He reaches behind you to wrap a hand around Johnny’s throat, giving it a squeeze. Johnny’s eyes bulge. “You don’t get to come until she does, pup. That’s all the time, got it?” 
He doesn’t pay any mind to how Johnny nods and mumbles his little yes, sirs after that—he’s a grown man, maybe not as grown as Ghost, but man enough to compose himself until you stop trembling and sweating so hard. 
It’d been a mite difficult to wrangle you into bed. He understands. He’d let you talk yourself red in the face about this not being what you meant by ‘seeing other people’, but Ghost hears the said and the unsaid. You wouldn’t be still in his house a whole week later if you really wanted to leave. 
“Alright, pet,” he grins, running his thumb over your bottom lip until it drops open and you let him run it over your teeth. “Hang on now.”
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teamatsumu · 4 months
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compression. (sakusa kiyoomi x reader)
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summary: atsumu is the perfect person to feed your obsession with kiyoomi’s arms.
word count: 1172
warnings: swearing, very mildly suggestive (if you squint), detailed descriptions of kiyoomi’s arms in compression sleeves so it’s not for the faint hearted
tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi
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When you studied Marketing and Communications in university, you didn’t exactly anticipate that your future would include you managing a V League Division 1 sports team. But every day when you went into work, you thanked the gods above that this is where your career path had led you, because that meant you could ogle Sakusa Kiyoomi and his infamous compression sleeves all day.
Oftentimes you were certain Kiyoomi didn’t mean anything by them. For him, they were practical. They kept his arms taut and ready for the ball. They made his movements sharper. He received the ball better. He didn’t have to feel his bare skin on the dirty court. These were all reasons you had heard straight out of his mouth. When you heard him mention them so nonchalantly, it almost made you feel bad for the absolutely sinful- borderline deranged- thoughts you had in your head about the way those sleeves made his arms look.
You were well aware of the kind of thoughts Kiyoomi’s choice of athletic wear caused among his fans. To put it simply and bluntly, they went feral over it. There were whole Twitter accounts dedicated to just his arms, or his chest. And as someone who often managed social media profiles for some of the members, you got to see the most unhinged of these comments with your own two eyes. And you would be the first to (secretly) admit that you agreed with 90% of what was being said, because holy shit did those sleeves do something to you.
Most of the time during practice, you could feel your eyes drift back over to the man in question, wearing a black sports tee and those godforsaken sleeves, working up quite the set as they played set after set to prepare for their next game. As the hours passed, Kiyoomi would get more and more disheveled, curls becoming unruly enough that he would grab a towel, biceps flexing as he ran it over the nape of his neck and dipped into the collar of his shirt. Christ almighty.
You should’ve known that you would eventually get caught. But if it was anyone who would notice, you had expected it to be Meian or maybe Coach Foster. But the person who did bring it up to you happened to be the biggest nightmare in this scenario; Miya Atsumu.
“Ya should be a little less obvious ‘bout it.” He commented when he trudged over to the bench where you sat, grabbing a water bottle and beginning to chug. You tore your eyes from Kiyoomi who now had his back to you, the muscles under his shirt flexing with every movement. You raised an eyebrow at the blond, not yet correlating his words with your hidden obsession. He placed the bottle down and placed a hand on his hip, giving you a knowing smirk.
“A blind grandma could notice the way yer lookin’ at him.”
Your eyes widened and cheeks flamed when he nudged his head in Kiyoomi’s direction, and you knew you had been caught. You clenched your jaw hard.
“You say a single word-”
He threw his hands up as if in surrender, effectively silencing your threat in its tracks.
“I won’t, promise! But there is one thing…..”
You groaned loudly, throwing your head back. Of course, of fucking course he would blackmail you with this.
“What do you want?” You deadpanned, glaring at him and preparing for the worst.
Atsumu looked a bit affronted, as if the mere insinuation that he might want something was preposterous to him. You gave him another tired look, until he sighed and gave up, plopping down heavily on the bench next to you.
“A phone number. Ya know that cute girl who comes by once a month? From the Volleyball Association?”
“No.”
Atsumu’s mouth dropped like a child who just got slapped. “Hey c’mon! Ya didn’t even hear me out!”
You groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling a characteristic frontal headache begin to build, courtesy of Miya Atsumu. “I’m tired of setting you up with people, Tsumu! It won’t end well, as always-”
“I’ll get you a picture of Omi with his compression sleeves.”
You give him an unimpressed look. “I can get hundreds of those off the internet.”
“I’ll get you a picture of Omi with just his compression sleeves.”
That made you halt in your tracks. You searched Atsumu’s face for any form of mockery or lie, and you found none. Your eyebrows shot up when you realized he was being serious.
“In the locker room. I can get it for ya today.”
Oh my god. Instinctively, your eyes darted over to the man in question, who was talking to Hinata about something. It looked like volleyball tips since he had his arms before him in a receiving position, and Hinata was rapidly nodding to what he was saying.
“No.” You shook your head. “No, that’s wrong.”
“I’ll take a selfie with him, yeah? He will know there’s a photo. And I can send it in the groupchat.”
You look back at Atsumu, seriously contemplating his offer. He kept yapping, as per usual, thinking that the more he talked, the likelier it would be to convince you. And the bastard was right, it was working.
“No one else will bat an eye. We see each other in the lockers all the time. No big deal.”
You bit your lip in thought. The possibility of seeing Kiyoomi shirtless and only in compression sleeves had your pulse rising.
“And you just want her number in return?”
Atsumu nodded eagerly. You gave him a narrow-eyed glare.
“Send the picture. Then I will give you the number.”
His triumphant grin made it feel like he had already won. “Deal.”
That evening, when your phone pinged with a text notification, you nearly flew across the bed to grab it, opening the picture Atsumu sent in the groupchat with eager fingers and freezing as soon as you laid eyes on it.
Atsumu had held up his end of the bargain spectacularly.
He had taken the picture with Kiyoomi a little further in the background, so he could get the man’s full torso in it. He was facing slightly away from the camera, but his face was turned towards it, capturing the scowl between his eyebrows and the little pout of his mouth. He was gloriously shirtless, still a bit sweaty from practice, and he held his shirt in his hand, one arm flexed as he held it while the other was held carelessly by his side, compression sleeves hugging the cords of toned muscles just right.
There was another ping, pulling you out of your trance and making you realize just how dry your mouth had gotten. Atsumu had messaged you privately.
“My payment? ;)”
You rolled your eyes and sent him the number, immediately going back to the picture and starring it for future reference, a tiny smile quirking up the corner of your lip as you did so.
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thatsdemko · 11 months
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drought - c.leclerc
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masterlist
requested: n
pairings: husband!charles leclerc x wife!fem!reader
warnings: not intended for minors + fingering (f receiving) + minor grammatical errors!
a/n: everyone say thank you to Charles leclerc’s recent photo dump
《 the following content is not intended for minors. 》
the simulator, the meetings, the practices, the races. it’s never ending exhaustion for Charles as he struggles grappling the seasons horrid start.
he’s thankful to have someone to turn to when times get rough. his lovely wife, you. through thick and thin is what you promised each other, and right now? this was the thin. this was what was starting to tear you both further apart.
Charles spent all his time home at the simulator, or any chance he could, at the factory. you’ve spent dozens of lonely, boring, nights in your shade king size bed.
the picture frame above the headboard is no longer crooked. you’d have time to fix it into place because the reason it fell was the endless nights of sex. the headboard would bang into the wall and eventually the picture, from your wedding night, would either come falling down, or end up sideways on the hook.
it was a reminder of your once thrilling sex life has come to an end. sex was no longer something you both were actively participating in. it was rather you and a vibrator on those lonely occasions.
“headed out?” you ask, picking your head up from your book in your lap. you’d heard his heavy footsteps. his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth searching the right sneakers to wear.
“just to maman’s salon. been awhile.” he says coming into the living room to sit beside you on the couch.
you nod in agreement having not remembered the last time his beautiful brown hair was trimmed. although, you don’t mind the length, and neither did his fans. you’d encouraged him to listen to them, and at the time he laughed. then you showed him why you liked it so much. the ends being tugged between your fingers, ruffled and yanked during sex, he enjoyed the arousal. now, there was no need for it.
“tell her I say hi.” you say, soft smile forming to your lips.
he catches your eyes for a brief second when he looks up from tying his shoes. he takes the quick second to press a kiss to your cheek, “you should come by. maman would love to see you.”
you’d missed pascale. in fact, you missed his whole family. it’d been months since you’d shared a laugh with Arthur, or even held conversation with Lorenzo and his new girlfriend. while you knew the chances were slim to seeing his siblings, you still joined him in the car. it’d been the first time in weeks being in his pista.
his hand dangerously slips across the center console. his thumb strokes the skin your inner thigh that’s exposed from your biker shorts. he’s happy you’ve tagged along, he can’t remember the last time you’ve spent more than two hours together that wasn’t spent sleeping.
“I noticed you fixed the picture above our bed.” he says turning to look at you for a brief second at the stop light. you figured he hadn’t noticed, it was slight change and he rarely slept at home when he had days off. you’re sure he’s seen the toy under your side of the bed if he truly went looking.
“gives you a new challenge again.” you reply back watching the wheel spin under his hands as he pulls into the parking lot. you were finally free from his grip.
he scoffs, putting the car in park, “it was always too easy. it was never a challenge.”
a smirk forms to your lips. your words catching him before he slips out the car, “well you have a new challenge and it’s much better than you’ve been in the past month.”
you’re sitting in the chair beside him watching pascale trim the wet ends of his hair. a few fall in his face or around the top of the cape.
she’s happy to see you. in fact, she’s only talking to you the whole time.
she doesn’t notice how you’ve been squeezing your legs together every so often. your one leg is crossed over the other, he sees you shifting in the chair as you answer his mothers questions. he sees how turned on you’ve become watching him.
it’s funny to him. how it’s the most mundane thing ever and it’s got your pussy throbbing for him. all he’s doing is sitting in the chair allowing his mother to cut the dead ends of his hair.
he can tell whatever you were using to get off was not enough. and it was his own damn fault for choosing the simulator or the factory over pleasuring his wife’s needs.
pascale walks away to answer the phone leaving you two alone, and he swivels the chair in your direction, “I did not know this would get you so horny.”
you feel heat spread across your cheeks. you try to pull the neck of the sweatshirt over your face to hide the embarrassment of being caught.
“when we get home—“
“you think I’ll last getting home?” you cut him off before he can propose his plan. his eyes widen, a smirk toys his lips as he shakes his head seeing his mother come back into the room.
“take the keys to the pista, you’re making this hard for me.” he tosses the keys into your lap, “it’s a private parking lot. you can finish what I started.”
“I’m almost done with him. you‘ll be able to go home in no time.” pascale promises and continues to trim his hair. you watch for another couple of minutes and now she’s finally getting ready to blow dry his wet hair.
you can’t watch any longer. you’ve made up an excuse to head to his car and wait out the final minutes. you’ve turned on the air in the car and sat in the passenger seat awaiting his arrival to take you home.
your leg anxiously bounces as you hear him whistling. he opens the passenger door, takes the knob that adjusts the seat, and pushes it as far back as it goes allowing him to kneel in front of your seat.
“Charles what are you doing?” you ask watching him close the passenger door once he’s in. it’s cramped. his head is just inches close to the top of the car, your legs are nearly into your lap and suddenly it’s warm in the car. the air must’ve kicked off after a period of time running.
“taking care of something.” he leans over your lap, letting the back of the seat go as far down as it can. he moves you closer to the edge of the seat, “lift your hips.” he demands and you do as he asks, allowing him to remove your shorts.
“Charles, we can’t do this in your car—“
“nobody is here.” he points out the very obvious. not another car is in this parking lot, and there’s not a single car that has drove down this street since arriving. you were as safe as you could be under the street lights.
“come on, let me treat you right.” he coos, fingers running up and down your thighs, “I did this to you.” he reaches into your lap, fingers toying with the wet material clung to your pussy, a whine threatening at your tongue.
“can I do that? can I touch my wife?”
you nod, unable to speak any words. you push you hips up again allowing him to remove your panties. you spread your legs as far wide as you can. his index finger stretches out across your folds. it’s like a ghost against your skin, you can feel him but barely. a soft whine escapes your lips, you lean back against the seat.
“good girl,” he whispers, “just relax for me.” he says. his index finger wiggles in your entrance. his name rolls off your tongue ever so quickly, and you feel him add a second finger not even giving you a chance to respond.
your fingers go flying into his freshly cut hair, and yank on the short ends. you curse him for what he’s done, and try to grab anything you can while his fingers pump inside of you. he takes his time, discovers every single bit of you like lost treasure. a place he hasn’t tended to in awhile.
sweet whines and moans escape your lips. it’s adorable how quick you were able to fold under his touch. all it ever really took was a swipe of his finger, tongue, or anything else to get your body to fold. you were his in the matter of seconds.
you feel one of his fingers just brush your clit. your back arches, pussy clenching around his fingers. you’re begging him to do it again, and again, until you come.
he doesn’t stop until he notices your legs are visibly shaking, the car is shaking from your bodies response, and until his fingers are met with cum.
“I can’t.” you breathe out, your body itches to exhale the sweet cum he ever so loves. he’s nodding along, encouraging you to come. you throw your body back against the seat, you feel the body of the car move as you do so. sweet delicious cum finally exits your body and so do his fingers.
“that was fun wasn’t it?” he licks his index and middle finger of your cum before pulling your set up close to where it was, and he’s getting out of the car. you quickly pull your shorts back up and double check your hair.
you look him in the eyes when he slides into the drivers seat. you can see the arousal in his pants, a content smile across his face, “don’t worry, you can take care of me when we get home. I’ve got an idea in my mind.”
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harryspet · 4 months
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bambi eyes (5) r. cameron
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[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, obx special guest appearances, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
A/N: Will tag people later, for now I must sleep :) Enjoy!
word count: 3.9k
In which Rafe loosens his leash, but actions come with consequences.
Rafe told you to get dressed and to wait at the front of the house. Truthfully, you liked it better when Rafe picked out your outfits. That way, you knew exactly what looked good on you and that you wouldn’t make some kind of fashion faux pas. You decided on a pink fitted top, a matching skirt, and an adorable pair of brown boots Rafe bought you for Christmas. You completed your look with a bow at the top of your hair and an array of colorful bracelets you put on each arm. 
You spent a while watching men in dark clothes walk the perimeter of the yard and through the forest on the sides of the property. At first, you were quite scared to see them, but Rafe explained that they worked for him. This led you to ask even more questions. Weren’t they cold out there? We should offer them some snacks? Could I make them cookies? Rafe shut down your curiosity quickly, emphasizing that you were not to say a word to any of them. 
When the door to the enclosed porch opened, you expected to see Rafe. You closed your drawing book and turned your head to greet him. Instead, Rafe’s friend Barry greeted you. You’d heard them going back and forth all morning, usually, their conversations were tense, but you assumed they must’ve come to some type of agreement. At the sight of you, he smiled, flashing his gold tooth. 
“Country Club’s little princess,” He sang, “How are you, baby?”
You smiled nervously, still not super used to being around others. It had been a few months now since Rafe brought you to Tannyhill and almost all of your social interaction had been with Rafe and Lana. 
“I’m good, I . . . how are you?”
He walked in front of you, his hands behind his back as he looked you over, “Oh I’m just peachy. Whatchu got there?” 
You glanced back towards the door, wondering if Rafe was far behind him. Looking back down at your lap, you said, “I was just drawing a little bit. Rafe told me to wait here–”
“Drawing, huh? You an artist?” Your eyes tilted back up to him. 
“Not an artist,” You said quickly, “I just like to . . .”
“What kind of stuff do you draw?” He asked, and you sensed sincerity in his tone, “You know, I used to draw a lot when I was in school. Nothing serious, but I couldn’t help it; my mind would just wander, and then my paper would have a bunch of doodles on it.”
He kneeled down in front of you, and you hesitated for a moment before you opened the book. You showed him your page of doodles. You drew a lot of what you saw, including doodles of Rafe, and things you saw around Tannyhill, “That’s Lana, ain’t it?” You nodded, “Impressive. Most people ain’t good at drawing faces. Not you though.”
“Thank you,” You said, “You don’t draw anymore?”
He shook his head, “Not very often. I should.”
You agreed, “You should. Sometimes, Rafe will draw with me. Well, mainly we’ll color together. He likes it when there’s already a picture, so he doesn’t have to come up with it himself.”
“He’s pretty bad at it, anyways, ain’t he?” Unexpectedly, a giggle left your lips, and you raised your book to cover the bottom of your face. 
“I should go look for him–” You made a move to escape, but Barry placed both his hands on the arms of your chair, effectively trapping you. 
Barry hadn’t touched you, but you felt you might get in trouble just for laughing at his joke, “You don’t like my company or something?” You shook your head immediately. 
“Sorry, that’s not what I meant . . .” 
“You’re sweet; I can see why he likes you,” Barry held his eyes on you and you felt the skin on your face heat up with embarrassment, “You know, you ever get tired of him, or he pisses you off – which he will, then you can call me. We can run away together.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t have a phone.”
Barry smirked at that, “Ask anyone on this island who Barry is, and they’ll point you in the right direction.”
Running away with Barry was the last thing you wanted to do. Rafe had his bad days but you hadn’t considered trying to leave. Barry also barely knew you but you decided to think positively. Afterall, Rafe trusted Barry. You assumed his intentions must be good, “Okay,” You agreed, “When you come back next, maybe you can show me some of your drawings.”
“You want to see them. Really?”
“Yes,” You said, “It’s only fair.”
Barry nodded, “You make a good point. I gotta come back soon and try more of your desserts. That cake you made … I ain’t tasted nothing better.”
“You have to,” You rushed out excitedly, “Rafe and Lana say everything I make is great, I can’t tell if they’re honest.”
“I’m as honest as they come, sweetheart,” You grinned at that, “A good friend is honest.”
“You want to be my friend?”
“I mean, only if you want me to.”
“I do.”
“Don’t tell Rafe though–”
Your conversation was interrupted when the poor door opened, and Rafe appeared, “Don’t tell Rafe what?” His gaze was sharp, and luckily, it was mostly directed at Barry. You watched as Barry stood and stepped back from you. 
“Nothing man, we were just talking about about Kildare. You’re going to let me help show her around, right?”
Rafe’s brooding look turned to amusement, “She’s not gonna step foot on your side of the island. Thanks for the offer though.” 
There was an awkward silence, and you felt some tension building until Barry finally said, “Alright, I’ll see you soon, Bambi,” You waved as he turned on his heel, “Rafe.”
Rafe watched as Barry walked out the front door before he held out his hand, summoning you. You hurried from your chair, moving in closer before you grabbed ahold of his hand. It was his cue to you that he would be leading you somewhere, and you were expected to follow. 
“He touch you?” Rafe asked, leading you out the same door. You watched as Barry pulled around the horseshoe driveway in his sports car. He walked you to his large truck, opening the passenger door, “Bambi.”
“Uh …no,” You stared. 
Suddenly, you were the furthest from Tannyhill’s front door than you’d ever been. 
“Good, get in, Bambi.”
“I’m leaving . . . you’re leaving with me in the car? Your car? Right now? Today?” 
“Yeah,” He said, unsure of himself, “Get in; I’m already starting to change my mind.”
You jumped in excitement, “Really? Where are we going?” Rafe helped you as you started to climb in. He leaned over you, fastening your seatbelt for you, “You aren’t taking me back, right?”
“No, sweet girl,” Rafe assured you, “As far as where we’re going, it’s a surprise.” 
You couldn’t contain your excitement as you settled into your seat. As you pulled past the gates at the end of the long driveway and onto the road, you couldn’t help but feel like all your faith in Rafe had paid off. 
“Who’s that, Daddy?” You asked, noticing a black car that had also pulled out of Tannyhill and was following closely behind. 
“No one, Bambi,” He brushed your question off, “So, uh, what were you two talking about? You and Barry?”
Your eyes were focused on the huge trees that hung over the road, beautifully dripping green moss from it’s branches. Between the trees, you saw huge mansions with big gates and long drives just like Tannyhill. 
“Drawing,” You said briefly, “He said he would show me some of his work.”
“He’s full of shit.”
You turned to Rafe who was gripping the wheel with one hand, “Daddy … I don’t like it when you curse.”
“Bambi, I–” He held his tongue, sighing before he reached over to place his other hand on your thigh, “I’m sorry, sometimes work makes me lose focus. What I mean is that Barry is my friend but … he likes to mess with me, you know? So he might say something to you knowing that it would bother me.”
“He seemed like he meant it,” You said, “Would it bother you if we were friends?”
“Guys and girls can’t really be friends,” Rafe explained, “Especially not with little girls like you, okay?”
“But why–”
“Because I’m telling you right now. I appreciate that you are kind to Barry but he wouldn’t be a good friend to you. If I’m going to protect you, and as your Daddy, I should have a say in who your friends are.”
You opened your mouth to argue but quickly shut it. It didn’t make much sense to you why men and women couldn’t be friends. Why would Barry offer to be your friend if it wasn’t appropriate? You supposed that you never had any male friends before, and most men you’d been around wanted a similar thing from you, “Maybe you’re right, Daddy.”
You drove over bridges with water on both sides of the road and through more neighborhoods with huge houses. Fifteen minutes into your drive, you arrived at an area with a grocery store and lots of stores that you assumed were also for shopping. 
Rafe pulled his truck in front of one of the storefronts. You unbuckled your seatbelt, sitting up further in your seat so you could read the sign, “Fig . . uuure eight …ball …it.”
“Ballet,” Rafe corrected you, “Figure eight Ballet Company.”
Confusion spread over your features, “I looked into it; they have adult classes for beginners. I thought it might be something fun for you to do once a week.”
“Me?” You pointed to your chest, “Dance classes?”
“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” Rafe rushed out, “It’s good exercise, and you can also do it at home. And it’s a chance to meet friends, friends that are girls, preferably.” 
“Oh,” When you looked at Rafe, it seemed like he was desperately trying to read your expression, “I’d be so nervous. And I wouldn’t be good at it.”
“I think people just do it for fun and to learn something new. And I wouldn’t just leave; I would walk you in and pick you up. Not today; I just wanted to take you by and see what you thought.”
“... It could be really fun …”
“And you’d make quite the adorable ballerina.”
“Maybe I could try one class . . . and if I liked it, you would take me every week?”
“Every week, as long as you continue to be a good girl,” Your nervousness started to melt away into excitement the longer you thought about it, “And while we’re out, I thought we could do some shopping. My research has informed me you’re going to need shoes, tights, a leotard, and a skirt.”
You practically leaped over the center console to hug him, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy!”
Rafe pulled you in close, “Anything for you, sweet girl.”
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Rafe didn’t need to get his hands dirty anymore; he could hire people to protect him or kill for him. As he settled into his new life with you, he started to miss some of the adventures he experienced in his early 20s and late teens. There were no more brawls or treasures to steal. He hadn’t realized he needed an outlet for the negative energy that seemed to boil up inside of him sometimes. Now, what he knew is that he needed to keep that side of him as far away from you as possible. 
Killing JJ would’ve satisfied that part of him that has been begging to come out of him for years. He would’ve felt a rush like no other, power and control that he hadn’t felt in so long. He hadn’t brought himself to do it yet, teetering on that line between sanity and insanity. The Pogue was always a good competitor, and Rafe wasn’t surprised that he was still fighting. Rafe liked that about JJ. 
Still, Rafe wanted to see him break, and he was patient enough to wait for it. 
“What would you do to see her again?” Rafe asked as he kneeled over JJ’s bruised and battered body. 
The pogue coughed, and blood-spattered on the boat cabin’s floor. 
The silent treatment followed, but Rafe was used to talking to himself, “I know she’s not over you, but how long do you think she’ll wait before she moves on? Six months? A year? I mean, she’s a wild one; I’m sure she won’t want to stick around this place for much longer.”
“Fuck you, Rafe,” JJ’s favorite words. 
“Maybe you just don’t love her like I thought you did,” Rafe taunted, “I mean if you did, you’d be groveling at my feet, right?”
JJ’s eyes pinched tight as Rafe’s words sounded like nails on a chalkboard. 
The silent treatment followed again, and Rafe considered what his next steps might be. Removing limbs? That could be fun for a while, but if he hadn’t surrendered at this point, what would make him crack? 
“Fine,” Rafe looked down at his bloody knuckles, “I won’t bother you anymore today, but I do have something I want you to contemplate in your hours of silence. Consider the idea that I let you go, and you see Kie again instead of bleeding out here and your body being chopped into pieces. I want you to think, and I mean really think, about what you might do to make that happen. And don’t think of it as sacrificing your morals or making a deal with the devil … think of it as securing your future, okay?”
Rafe tapped his hand against JJ’s sore cheek before he stood and left. He heard no quippy comeback from the Pogue. At least Rafe had successfully beat that out of him. 
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Rafe’s eyes snapped open and was awakened from his sleep when he felt a soft finger poking at his cheek, “Wha…” Groggily, he reached to turn on his bedside lamp and found you, dressed in a onesie that made you look like a brown bear,  standing beside his bed, a sniffling mess, “Hey, w-what’s wrong?”
Immediately, Rafe reached out to grab you, and you proceeded to climb onto his large bed, “I-I had a scary dream,” You hiccuped, “Y-You sent me away a-and I was alone again and Master he was so mad at me b-because I-I didn’t make you h-happy–”
Rafe shushed you, pulling you into him, “It wasn’t real, okay? Look, you’re here with me right now.” 
“It felt real,” You whimpered, and Rafe’s lips pulled into a thin line of frustration. He wanted you happy, and he wanted to give you much more than you ever had, and it pained him that you thought he might hurt you in that way. 
“I . . . I wouldn’t ever do that, Bambi,” He brushed tears from your cheeks and caressed your face, “I’d fu- … I’d rather die than let you go. And I’d kill anyone that tried to take you from me. Anyone, okay?”
“You’ve hurt people before,” It wasn’t a question; Rafe could see it was an observation she’d made. 
“Yes,” He admitted, “But I haven’t hurt you, have I?”
“You saved me.”
Rafe nodded, “That’s right, sweet girl. I saved you. I’ve hurt people, yes,  but I-I’m not a cruel person. I wouldn’t do something like that. And you make me so happy.”
Rafe watched as you blinked away your tears and tried to stop yourself from frowning, “What if I don’t always make you happy?”
“You make me happy by breathing,” Rafe tried to assure you, “You’re smart and beautiful, and you deserve nice things. I never had anyone in my life that made me feel like I deserved anything. I never even felt like I deserved to be loved. I don’t want you to ever feel like that.”
“I love you, Rafe,” You were trying to reassure him now, and Rafe was grateful. He loved those words on your lips, and he felt in his heart that you meant them, “And . . . I like being loved by you. So much.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” Rafe felt you press your forehead against his before you pressed your lips softly against his, “Thank you . . . for everything. Uhm, did I scare you?”
“No, no,” Rafe’s mind was mostly on the thought of your lips, “I like being woken up by cute bears.”
Rafe pulled you in again for a kiss. Softly, your lips moved together, and Rafe explored your mouth with his tongue, slowly deepening the kiss. Rafe was already growing hard, and he cursed in his mind, frustrated by how easily you got him going. 
“You still sore from earlier?” He asked. 
“A little bit,” You spoke shyly, “You were kinda rough…”
Rafe thought back to you, bent over the arm of the couch, taking you deep, but that just made his cock ache even more. 
“But I’ve trained that little hole well, haven’t I?” Rafe asked, pressing the length protruding from his boxers, against your stomach, “You can take more, okay?”
You nodded, although Rafe’s question was rhetorical. Rafe didn’t like you sad, but he certainly like seeing your teary face. Your pajamas were the cherry on top, including the convenient little flap on the back that allowed for easy access, “Turn around on your side, little girl,” Rafe commanded gruffly, “This will help you sleep.”
“Daddy…” You whined as you did exactly as Rafe ordered. 
“Right here, not going anywhere,” Rafe pushed his crotch into your ass, bringing his lips close to your ear. He ground against you as he carefully pulled down the front zipper of your onesie. He needed to feel your nipples between his fingers, your breasts in his large hands. He also needed your pussy dripping for him, knowing he couldn’t fuck you when you were already sore without any lubrication. He reached into your onesie, finding your mound easily, and began to rub circles over your sensitive area, “Daddy needs you so badly.”
You squirmed, but you were tightly pressed against him. He teased you, moving back and forth from your clit to your breasts. He’d rub your breast until you were aching below, and when you started to feel close, he’d go back to teasing your nipples. 
He got you to a point where you were so stimulated that you were already orgasming with three slow and deep strokes inside of you. You were convulsing around him, unable to contain your moans, but Rafe wrapped his hand around your mouth and continued to pump inside of you. It certainly wasn’t as rough as earlier, but Rafe could feel you squeezing him tighter, “You feel how happy you make me, Bambi?” Rafe grunted, “Daddy wouldn’t want to cum in any other pussy than yours — Jesus.”
Rafe finished inside of you. He hadn’t lost all of his energy, though, moving his hands back to your clit, as he filled you up. He didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and you were cumming again. 
“Thank me.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” You spoke breathlessly. 
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Now that your Daddy was allowing you out of the house, there were new rules for you to learn. Of course, you weren’t allowed to talk to strangers unless they were girls you met at dance class. You had to go by Y/N, Y/L/N, and Rafe had given you an ID to carry around when you couldn’t be together. If anyone asked who you were to Rafe, you could just say that you were his girlfriend and you’d moved in with him a few months ago. That wasn’t far from the truth, so you didn’t imagine that would feel like lying. 
A few days after he showed you the ballet company, he let you tag along to run errands with him. For most of the time you sat in the car, watching him pump gas, stop at different businesses, and shake hands with men who seemed amused by every word Rafe said. You noticed people tended to stare at him, especially as the two of you walked through the grocery store together. 
“Did people always stare at you like this?”
“They used to stare at my Dad; he used to be the King of this place,” You nodded, twirling the ribbon in your hair as Rafe pushed the cart along, “I don’t think people expected me to come back.”
“Well, since you’re Dad is gone. I guess you’re the King now,” You flashed him a smile. 
“Maybe so,” Rafe conceded. 
“Oooh, look!” You pointed at something in the refrigerated section that caught your eye, and your feet were already moving towards it. As soon as you pulled open the glass door, you felt Rafe’s strong hands around your bicep, stopping you. You whipped back to see eyes narrowed at you and his serious face.
“You can’t just run away from me like that,” He snapped, “Jesus . . . don’t do that, okay?”
“I’m sorry,” You squeaked, “I just saw . . . they have so many types of iced coffee. They have peppermint, and caramel and mocha-”
“Coffee isn’t good for you.”
“You let me eat sweets all the time, and those aren’t good for me,” The words came out before you could stop them. You couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Rafe offered you the world, but at the same time, he controlled so many aspects of it. 
You’d pissed him off; you could immediately see it in his face. His hand still on your arm, Rafe leaned closer to you, “You’re going to stand right next to the cart for the rest of the time we’re in here, and you’re not going to say another word, okay? I don’t want to hear it.”
You let the door go just as Rafe let your arm go. You crossed your arms, knowing you had no other choice than to keep your mouth closed. Rafe didn’t have much to say after that, and you let him brood on his own. 
You were standing near the fresh produce; Rafe was picking out the vegetables that Lana had written on the grocery list when you saw a woman approaching your cart. She had caramel skin and pretty curls that were tamed by a messy bun on top of her head. She was holding a small shopping basket, but she didn’t seem to have any care for any of the items inside as she stomped closer to the two of you, red in her eyes. 
“Rafe Cameron!” She didn’t seem even to perceive you as she stared Rafe down. You watched his reaction closely and how his contempt quickly switched from you to her. 
“Kie, long time no see,” He didn’t express much emotion other than through his eyes, making him appear stoic. 
The woman, Kie, didn’t hide any of her emotions, “I know what you did.”
“What’s that?” Rafe tilted his head. 
“You know what exactly I’m talking about,” She pointed a finger at him, tears in her eyes, “Your day is coming–”
He proceeded to talk over her, “Hey, let your Mom and pops know Cameron Development is still interested in working with them. I have the perfect property for their next restaurant. I mean, an absolutely gorgeous spot.”
“Fuck you, Rafe,” You covered your mouth in shock. 
“It was nice catching up with you too, Kie,” He winked as the woman walked away. 
You watched as Rafe’s hands squeezed into a fist and then how tightly they wrapped around the cart’s handle. 
“Daddy-”
“Let’s go, Bambi.”
“Rafe-”
“I didn’t want to hear it before; I definitely don’t want to hear your mouth now. Let’s go.” 
You bit your tongue and fell back into step with him. You supposed a king couldn't be loved by all his subjects.
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PART 6
Please reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think/predictions for the future!
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sttoru · 5 months
Note
imagine older bf!gojo fucking us in doggy style in while we're wearing his hoodie😫😫
☀︎|tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. smut. age gap (reader early 20’s, gojo early 30’s), size difference / size kink, doggy style, spanking, implied creampies, reader gets called ‘baby, sweetheart’.
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satoru’s attempts to hide his obvious desire for you were rendered unsuccessful; no matter how much he tries to keep his hands to himself — it never works. this time was no different.
you were simply sitting on the couch with his hoodie on and the older man couldn’t stop the blood from rushing to his crotch. you looked extremely adorable in satoru’s hoodie, as it was oversized on your much shorter and smaller body.
“fuck— ‘m sorry, baby,” your boyfriend apologises between shallow breaths. he’s got you face down with your ass up on the bed; his hands using your hips as leverage for his intense thrusts. there was no mercy in the pace he set—he was too far gone, “you just. . look so fuckin’ good in my hoodie - couldn’t resist.”
the inability to resist going any harder on you also shows in his constant, harsh movements. the sticky sounds your cunt made due to your own wetness - and the few loads that satoru had dumped into you in the span of half an hour - echo throughout your shared space.
satoru’s fingers slither up your back, diving under the material of your (his) hoodie before moving up your front to fondle your breasts. all while his throbbing cock molds your insides to accommodate its hefty size.
“you should try on my clothes more often,” your boyfriend suggests whilst he leans his upper body down, his chest flush against your back as his hot breath tickles your ear, “i wanna try fucking you in all of ‘em.”
you moan and shiver at the thought which forms a sly grin on satoru’s face. he sighs before leaning back again, putting his hips in a better angle so he could hit all of your sweet spots—trying desperately to hear all the moans you could produce. of course, he can’t help but add a couple spanks to your ass.
the sight of the fat jiggling which each slam of his hips and slap of his hand nearly drives him to the edge again. satoru slips his wet dick out of your pussy for a second, pumping the length and using the tip to scoop up the droplets of his cum that escaped back inside you. he resumes his harsh thrusts, his ocean blue eyes taking in every jolt your body makes.
“mm shit, you’d look so good in that black shirt of mine,” satoru groans. he could already imagine how the compression shirt would define your tits and waist—how your nipples would poke through the thin material.
you tremble and babble incomprehensible words after lifting your head from the pillow. your lungs long for air and your hands claw at the bedsheets. your lover could easily decipher your actions: you’re about to reach another orgasm.
“aht aht, sweetheart. jus’ a little more, ‘kay?” satoru pouts, kissing the back of your head in a gesture of comfort. he pats your ass with a smile after you agree to hold back for a bit longer, “good girl.”
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thepastdied · 1 year
Text
No Filter
eddie munson x fem!reader FLUFF
18+ because some sexual themes. Overall, just fluff
Word Count: 2.1k
Eddie is drunk and whiny because he's jealous of Steve. Not my gif. Would have tagged if I knew.
part 2 out now
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A heavy arm clad in leather slumped around your shoulders.
You turned your head and were met with your alcohol reeking best friend, Eddie.
"Well helllllloo there, pretty girl. Come here often?" He winked at you, eyes hazy and body swaying.
"Eddie, this is my house." You laughed through your nose and wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him.
Music thumped throughout your house, and people were scattered in each corner. You weren't necessarily popular, but it was you and Eddie's idea to throw a party so he could make some quick cash. With the help of King Steve, of course. Seeing how he was already drunk, he must have already made his rounds. Unfortunately you had to work and didn't arrive until around 9 pm, about 3 hours into the party. Eddie was absolutely wasted and probably was on something else, too. You never knew with him.
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"Steve.. the fuck is in this?" You took a sip of your drink and cringed. He laughed and shrugged, taking a sip and mirroring your reaction.
"Huh." Eddie huffed next to you, eyes narrowing and darting back and forth between you two.
"Should we whip together a new punch? May have put a little bit too much rum in this one." Steve pinched his thumb and pointer finger together, taking a couple steps back in the direction of your kitchen.
You were about to follow him when Eddie's arm tightened around you, leather squeaking against your shoulder. You looked at him quizzically when he let out a whiny groan.
"Eddie.. What's up? Do you feel okay?" He pulled his arm off you so that you could face him.
His cheeks were flushed and eyes hooded as he gazed down at you.
"Jus' want you to stay with me 's all.." He clumsily placed a hand on your waist and pulled you toward him. "You always gotta be aroun' King Steve… hmph." His lips turned down into a pout.
Your brain short circuited and you stared at him trying to piece together what's making him so mopey. Of course you were often around Steve. Though he hasn't asked you out yet, there was definitely something going on between you two.
You nervously laughed and gripped the front of his leather jacket as he stumbled back a bit. Your head was getting fuzzy yourself and you wished you were able to think a bit clearer.
"I think you should take a rest, Eds.." Your eyes trailed around the living room, pushing him toward the half empty sofa.
His fingers tightened on your waist as he was about to sit down and you pulled yourself from his grip gently. His lips turned down even more and he slumped his shoulders before he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
"Fine. Go with your new boyfriend 'cause he's just s' cool with his cool hair and his cool coolness." He waved you off as he dramatically crossed his arms like a kid and huffed.
"Stop being a baby. I'll be right back." You gave him a deadpan expression and stuck your tongue out, tapping your shoe against his before going into the kitchen.
Steve was sitting on the counter with his arms crossed, various bottles of liquor, mixers, and other drinks littered across your island table.
"Soo.." He kicked himself off the counter to stand beside you, eyes scanning over all the ingredients.
"Is Eddie alright?" He itched the back of his neck as his eyes peeked through the doorway to where Eddie sat, still grumpy but now playing with a glowstick that someone left on the coffee table. Him and Steve were friends, actually, but he was so blasted that he was letting his feelings show a little too much.
"He's fine.." You laughed, shaking your head. "Such a big baby."
You both made the new punch and talked about random stuff, almost an hour passing before Eddie waddled in the kitchen.
"You two lovebirds done yet? I'm thirsty." He leaned his shoulder on the doorframe, seemingly a little less drunk than before as he scowled at Steve.
You gave him an annoyed look at his comment before filling a cup and handing it to him, which he just took from you and set it on the counter.
He stared at Steve with his tongue in his cheek before kissing his teeth and grabbing his cup before disappearing again.
You opened your mouth to call for him as Steve put a hand on your shoulder.
"You should uh.. go check on him." He nodded his head toward the door.
You clenched your teeth as you weaved in and out of people. You were pissed, to say the least, because it felt like you were babysitting instead of enjoying the party. It took you almost twenty minutes to find Mr. Crankypants laying in your backyard. You trudged over to him, fists clenched by your sides and the water bottle you were holding crunching in your grip.
"Eddie, what is wrong with you?" You looked down at him, crossing your arms.
His eyes left the stars and met yours, widening as he stuck an arm up and pointed at you.
"Ah! My favorite star just appeared!!" He yelled, hand flapping in excitement.
You struggled to keep the scowl on your face, failing miserably as Eddie beamed at you, laughing at himself.
You sighed as he stood up, dusting himself off and eyes looking into yours fondly.
"You okay?" You stepped forward and placed a hand on his arm.
He let himself fall forward and stuffed his face into your neck, arms clenching around your waist.
"Woa-"
"Miss you, sweetheart.." He mumbled, lips brushing up against your neck.
"You're the one who ran off, silly." You hugged him tighter.
"Y-yeah but…" His voice cracked and you pinched your eyebrows together.
"Don' go with him, please." Eddie stuffed his face further into your neck when you tried to pull away.
You'd never been this close before, aside from his side hugs.
"What are you talking about, Eddie." You whispered.
He sighed, hot breath warming your throat. You pulled back and looked into his eyes, waiting for an explanation.
"Uhm.." He furrowed his eyebrows and puckered his lips.
"What're we talking about?" He quirked an eyebrow up. "Too much vodka-"
You rolled your eyes and pinched his cheek.
"Eddie. You don't want me around Steve." You blurted out, patience wearing thin.
His mouth opened and closed, lips turning downward and eyes glazing over with tears. You gasped and put your hands up.
"H-hey, it's fine- we don't have to talk about it." You hurriedly tried to change the subject.
He bowed his head down and sniffled as a tear rolled down his nose. Your heart sank when you tried to grab his hand, his whole body shrinking away from you. You said his name again but he only shook his head, huffing as more tears came out.
"Jus' wish I had a chance 's all." He hiccuped and angrily wiped his face with his sleeve, hair covering his face from your view. "- don't know how t'do this sorta thing like him." Another sniffle escaped him as he stepped further away from you.
The lump in your throat grew as you realized what the problem here was. He liked you and didn't want you to go with Steve. You mentally slapped yourself for being so blind to it.
You hopped forward and grabbed his hand, pulling him back toward you and walking further into your yard, away from the several nosey eyes that were in Eddie.
You pushed his hair from his face, all wet due to his tears. He felt so embarrassed, confessing his feelings in this drunken state. But he just couldn't control what came out of his mouth. This wasn't planned. He never intended to tell you, was going to let you be with Steve because he knew deep down he was better for you. His low self esteem was what truly kept him from actually asking you out.
Your own eyes watered when you saw his tear stained face. His eyelashes soaked with fresh tears, face red and puffy. He took a deep breath and swallowed the saliva that collected in his mouth before lifting his hand to take a sip of his drink.
You giggled when his eyes quizzically looked at his empty hand and head turned to see his cup empty on the ground. His eyes met yours again, pinching at the corners as he lazily smiled at you. You handed him the water bottle you'd been holding.
"I think we should talk about this when you're not drunk, okay?" You leaned your head forward to peek under his curtain of hair that he suddenly flicked in front of his face.
"Mhm.."
"But… don't be sad. We are on the same page here, okay? I.. I won't go to him. I know what you're trying to say." You gently whispered and sighed in relief when he simply nodded back.
You pulled him into a hug and he hummed as he let the water bottle fall to the ground, his heart hammering against your chest.
"Look so pretty tonight.." He mumbled as his arms snaked around your waist, lower than they had been before.
You felt tingles run throughout your body due to both the tone of his voice and the path his hands were on. Eddie's palms smoothed over your lower back as he pulled you in more, if that was even possible.
You hummed and thanked him for the compliment, your face feeling hot.
"-always look s'pretty. But never seen you in a dress like this before.." Your lower belly began to feel hot as his lips brushed against your neck while he talked. He could have moved his head so his chin was resting on your shoulder. He knew what he was doing.
"T-thank you, Eds.." You gulped and his eyes shot open, smirking as he continued moving his hands.
"Hmm.. love it when you call me that." You could feel his teeth in your neck now, mouth fully on your skin as he spoke.
Your breath hitched when he placed the most gentle kiss behind your ear, lips barely touching your skin as they trailed down your neck and placed another peck before he sloppily began to mouth at the flesh there. He panted as he nibbled and kissed messily all over your neck, the night air feeling cool against your wet skin.
"E-eddie." You breathed out.
Eddie grunted and laughed when you tugged on his hair, pulling his head back. Your face felt like it was on fire and you were grateful it was dark.
"S-sorry." He snorted out a laugh nervously and started to shimmy off his jacket, getting annoyed when it got stuck on his arm. " s'hot out."
Your chest raised with each breath as you watched him. How the fuck could you even allow yourself to go out with someone else after the one you truly liked confessed to you? And he went at your neck like a fucking vampire-
"Mmm.. miss you." He croaked up at you, his voice weak from when he had been crying.
You blinked down at him to where he was now sitting, arms reaching out to you.
"Please don' go back to him." He pouted again and a laugh bubbled in your throat as you sat next to him.
"Well how am I supposed to after that?" You wiped a hand over your face and sighed.
He stared at you, eyes struggling to stay focused on yours when your neck was so visible.
"Need to do this side too-" He quickly scooted so his body was pressed against yours and latched his lips onto your neck, sucking the skin between his teeth and letting his tongue dart out.
"Eddie!" You gasped loudly as you pushed him away and laughed incredulously, slapping a hand over where you know a hickey is.
"Don't… don't tell me there's a mar-"
"Uh-huh there's mos' definitely a mark." He snickered at you and clumsily made his way onto his feet, eyes filled with lust as he watched you lick your lips and squeeze your thighs together. His legs stumbled a bit as he didn't have you to hang on to and he looked toward the house. Fuck, he was so hard.
"Gotta piss- be back in like.. fifteen." He held up 4 fingers.
You stifle a laugh and nod, wanting him to leave so you can fan your face. You were fucking sweating.
" 'f I wasn't so drunk… hmph." He put two fingers down out of the four he still had up and made a V, sticking his tongue out and obnoxiously laughing when you covered your face at the gesture.
" 'm actually going to jack off, I lied-"
"Eddie! Can you please leave!!" You laid on your back and covered your face, still laughing.
"Alright alright, sorry- no filter right now, sweetheart."
Your friendship will definitely never be the same.
Next part (18+) ->
updated 5/5
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sheisraging · 9 months
Text
Tutorial: How to Embed Gifs (and get the one you actually want from the set)
There have probably been posts about this before, but since reposting is still a (deeply unfortunate) thing, I figured I'd give this a shot in case it's not a well known trick.
The tumblr Gif tool will allow you to embed gifs directly into your post without saving and re-uploading (reposting) someone else's work.
When you're building your post, just use the yellow GIF icon in the post builder:
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You can search here by tag or keyword. If you happen to know one of the tags used on the original post you're looking for, that can narrow things down:
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To narrow down to a SPECIFIC post, you can also paste the URL into the search field. This will pull up the very first gif in that set:
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If you select that gif, it will pop into your post with a credit and link back to the OP (specifically back to the OPs post with that gif in it):
This is a properly attributed gif embed. The credit on the bottom right points back to the original post:*
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Often, the first gif is not actually the one you want to embed, but there is a way to swap the image out for the one you want without losing the source attribution.
*It's helpful to put some reference text near your initial embed so you're able to swap the right image out later on. For this post, I'm going to use that short block right above the embedded gif as a reference.
In another tab/window, go to the OPs post and find the actual gif you want to embed from their set. Right click the image and Copy Image Address:
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Once you have the URL copied, go back to your post and scroll to the gear icon at the top:
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Open that menu and in the dropdown, where it says Text Editor, swap Rich Text to HTML:
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Your post will turn into a bunch of code once you do this. Don't worry, we will change it back.
For this post, I put reference text above that first embedded gif so I could easily find the URLs I need once it becomes HTML. This is super helpful if you're embedding more than one gif. The reference text is highlighted below. This indicated the block that my currently embedded gif lives in:
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In order to swap the first gif out for one that's later in the set, you just need to replace the SRC gifv and SRCSET gifv URLs with the image address you copied:
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Once you've pasted the image address into these spots, you can go back to the gear icon and switch the Text Editor back to Rich Text:
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Your post should return to it's previous, glorious state, but instead of the first gif embedded, you should now see the one you actually want from the set. The credit and source attribution back to the OPs post should remain intact on the bottom right:
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This might seem super complicated at first, but it's pretty straightforward once you've tried it, and also a lot less frustrating for gif makers to see this than seeing our stuff just get reposted.
Anyway... If you found the gifs outside of tumblr or you didn't make them yourself, don't save and re-upload (aka. repost) them to tumblr, 'cause someone probably stole them from here to begin with and that's not cool. Search the tags and find the ones you want. Reblog from gif makers. If you want to embed a single gif from a set, try to do it this way, or minimally, credit the person you took it from.
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withleeknow · 2 months
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how he would take care of you during shark week. ⤷ chan / minho / changbin / hyunjin / jisung / felix / seungmin / jeongin
pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, lil fluff, lil angst, mentions of physical pain bc it's shark week and we're cramping lol ok, unedited bc i wrote this a couple months ago and i just wanted to post smth today and i'm currently half asleep word count: 0.4k
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
main masterlist / blurb masterlist / ko-fi
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minho comes home to a quiet house, four of his favorite beings nowhere to be found. he takes off his shoes, hangs up his jacket, put his keys where he can easily fetch them the next morning, and ventures into the living room. though, he soon stops in his tracks when his eyes find the couch situated in the middle of the room.
there’s a human-sized lump completely hidden under a fleece blanket on the cream-colored sofa, surrounded by soonie, doongie, and dori, all curled up and sleeping peacefully.
doesn’t take a genius to figure out what the lump is.
you, his love.
minho approaches the couch with careful footsteps and a pretty good guess as to why you’ve resorted to being a lump for the day. the tracker app on his phone did notify him that it should happen any day now.
when he sits down by your feet, soonie shoots up with a hiss before calming down immediately afterward, upon the realization that it's just his other owner.
“hey,” minho calls softly, placing a hand on your leg. “you sleeping?”
there’s a grunt, then the lump moves. he assumes it’s you shaking your head under there.
“does it hurt?” he asks.
the lump shifts again - a nod, he thinks - but this time, it’s accompanied by a softer sound, nearly a whimper.
he sighs, because he hates to see you in pain. hates that this helpless feeling has become a monthly visitor in your home. the first two days are often the worst for you.
“i’ll be right back,” he says, and again, he doesn’t get anything other than an incoherent noise, but it’s not like he was expecting a verbal response anyway.
minho returns a few minutes later with all of the essentials that you were in too much discomfort to get yourself. your trusty heating pad, a glass of warm water and pills, your favorite mango almond chocolate, a fluffy pillow so your neck doesn’t hurt from lying on the couch for too long.
peeling the blanket off so that he can prop the pillow under your head and give you the heating pad, he practically winces when he sees the pained expression on your face. you open your eyes to find him, and you look like you're close to crying. this month must be worse than usual.
“i’ll make you something to eat and then you can take your painkillers,” he tells you.
“thank you.” the words come out weak, but minho knows you mean them.
soft lips press themselves against your forehead, full of love and an unspoken i wish i could do more for you.
“i love you. give me twenty minutes, okay?”
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permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom @jisuperboard @wyzminho @amarecerasus @channection @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @judeduartewannabe @chanshyunjin @firelordtsuki @astronomicallyyy @alm334 @lashaemorow (italicized = can’t tag)
all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 02.04.2024]
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zepskies · 28 days
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Calculated Risks
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader
Summary: You and Ben argue about your commitment to being a working mom. When a rogue supe gets loose at Supe Affairs, mayhem ensues, putting not only your life at risk, but your daughter’s as well.
AN: Welcome back to the BMD-verse, friends! Did you miss these two as much as I did? Plus, get ready for a heavy dose of fan-favorite Frank. (And Lila, of course!)
Word Count: 7K
Tags/Warnings: Familiar bickering, a mission gone awry, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.
Catch up on the BMD-verse. ⤵️
💚 Break Me Down Masterlist
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In four years of marriage, one thing that had never changed between you and Ben was this.
“All right, you’re being a little too much right now,” you said in irritation. “Of course I’m not sitting this one out. I’m the one who found us the damn lead in the first place.”
The man was following you from the adjoining bathroom and back into your shared bedroom, where you began getting dressed for work in the blouse and pencil skirt you’d laid out for yourself.
Your husband had already donned his supe suit, sans helmet. He stood just behind you with his arms crossed, a familiar surly frown on his face. When you turned around, he hadn’t moved an inch.
“I’m being too much? You’re the one who’s not being fucking reasonable,” he said.
You rolled your eyes and moved past him to find your shoes. For this skirt, you really needed heels. Your most comfortable black pumps would do. You grabbed the closet doorknob for balance as you slipped them on, giving him a look of exasperation.
Ben held firm on his stance, but inside, he had a feeling you’d chosen this outfit on purpose. You knew he liked this whole sexcretary look on you, with your hair let down around your shoulders. The skirt and heels just brought his eyes to the delectable curve of your ass.
But again, he was holding firm.
He’d been called in on this case partly because Annie was on maternity leave. She was due in just a few weeks. Which meant “Soldier Boy” was definitely needed to help out Butcher and his merry band of assholes. By now, Ben had gotten used to them.  
“Look,” you said, “Slingshot has been causing a lot of havoc, and the police haven’t been able to catch him. You heard Grace. This is an ‘all hands on deck’ situation.”
“She always says that shit. Doesn’t make it true,” Ben retorted.
“This time it is,” you said. “I’ve already put in tons of man hours on surveillance for this guy. I want to get him off the street.”
Ben held you by your arms. “That’s exactly my point. You’ve been putting in way too many hours.”
You shook your head. He just didn’t get it.
“If I hadn’t, we wouldn’t have this opening now,” you said. You gave him a smile to try and lighten him. “Now he’s all teed up for you and the guys. This should be in and out. Practically a milk run for you.”
“Yeah, but not for you,” he pointed out. “And not for Lila. You’re stretching yourself too damn thin. It’s not like we need the money.”
Ahh, now we get to it, you thought. Yet again, he was bringing this up. In his mind, you should’ve cut your hours at Supe Affairs after Lila was born.
You did take an extended maternity leave of an entire year and a half, which was much more than women usually got from their jobs. However, because of your relationship with Grace and the entire team, you’d been allowed to come back whenever you felt ready. 
Ben had often felt it necessary to point out that with his money, you didn’t have to work at all. 
He knew very well that for you, this work was more than a job. 
“I’m not the first working mom in existence, Ben,” you said, pushing out of his hold. “And I’ll remind you that Supe Affairs has a great daycare program. Lila’s very happy there.”
Plus, she was almost three and a half years old. In less than a year, Lila would be off to preschool.
“And look, it’s not about the money,” you added. “I told you before Lila was born. I am a mother, and I’m your wife. But I’m still me.”
Ben processed that for a moment, meeting your gaze.
“The situation’s changed,” he replied. He grasped your hips this time. His thumb gently brushed over your belly, which had a small bump under your high-waisted skirt. 
You were finally pregnant again. Three months, in fact, and you were having a boy. You knew that Ben had several reasons to be more protective than usual…but still. You thought you were already taking every precaution to keep you and your children safe, even with the occasionally extensive hours of your job.
“These cases can be long and difficult, not to mention dangerous,” said Ben. His green eyes met yours as he looked down at you through furrowed brows. “You’re putting yourself at risk.”
You blew out a breath and tried to placate him, soothing a hand over his chest. 
“I’ve stopped doing field missions,” you pointed out. “And Supe Affairs is the most secure building in the city. Do you think I would bring Lila there if it wasn’t?”
The security team at the S.A. was bar none, not only because Loco was a part of that team. Frank was also your personal bodyguard; Ben hired him back when you found out you were pregnant with Lila.
In fact, Frank was coming to the house in a few minutes to pick you all up.
Ben frowned. “I think you’re being stubborn just to be fucking stubborn.”
That sparked at your temper. Again, you withdrew from his arms and crossed yours.
“I think you need to face the fact that I’m protected as well as I can be,” you said. “I also think that you’re trying to use this as a way to shoehorn me into some antiquated idea of what you still think a wife should be. I’m gonna tell you right now. That’s not me! It’s never been me. And you know that.”
He opened his mouth to give an angry retort, but you beat him to it.
“It’s like you don’t even care about what I want,” you snapped. “Just what you think is right—for me to be here waiting for you to come home, quite literally barefoot and pregnant, ready to rub your balls!”
Cliché as it might’ve been to say, if the shoe fit, then you were certainly not going to be the one to wear it.
“You know what, you can accuse me of being stuck in the fucking past all you want,” Ben said, raising a finger, as well as his voice. “But the problem here isn’t me. It’s that what you want is goddamn idiotic!”
Your mouth fell agape. “Excuse me?! I can’t even believe you right now!”
Ben fairly loomed above you when he shouted back.
“Well, that makes fucking two of us!”
His voice was loud enough to reverberate on the walls. You even flinched, but you held your ground with a glare…
Until you heard a whimper.
You and Ben paused, and turned to find Lila. The three-year-old was cowering a bit in the doorway to your bedroom. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she began to cry.
Your heart broke.
“Oh, honey,” you breathed. You were both apologetic and mortified as you quickly went to her.
Ben was close behind you, but while Lila was quick to melt into your arms when you picked her up, she shied away from his attempt to reach out to her. What would’ve been a placating hand on her head, turned into him pausing in surprise when she ducked.
“Lila?” he prodded.
He tried to mask how put out he was by his daughter hiding her face from him, burrowing into your neck instead. She was usually a daddy’s girl, through and through.
You shot him a knowing frown, while rubbing her back in comfort.
“It’s okay, baby,” you told her. “Your dad and I were just…talking. He didn’t mean to shout.”
When Lila only whimpered in response, Ben’s gaze dimmed in understanding. His lips pursed.
You saw that look on his face, and you wanted to sigh. Part of you felt bad for him, at the way Lila had flinched away from her father. In a way though, maybe it was a lesson he needed to learn.
Frank arrived a few minutes later in a black SUV, like he did every weekday morning to bring you all to work. Ben was quiet and taciturn climbing into the backseat on one side, and you clipped Lila into her car seat from the other side. He still made sure that she was strapped in correctly, and even tried to earn his daughter’s gaze.
She snuck a glance at him a couple of times, but quickly lowered it to play with one of her favorite stuffed animal toys (a little German shepherd that he had gotten for her).
Ben let out a long breath through his nose. He gave Frank a nod through the rearview mirror, and the other man peeled away from the house.
The four of you rode in silence away from your house in Scarsdale, towards New York City.
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Ben’s mood remained grim, even when you all got to Supe Affairs. Frank held back while you and Ben stopped in the hallway with Lila. You were carrying her, and she was holding onto you and her stuffed animal like a lifeline instead of looking anywhere else—namely at Ben.
You sighed and tried to pull her back enough to see her face.
“Daddy’s gotta go to work now. Want to say goodbye?” you encouraged.
All Lila could manage was a shy look in his direction. Ben laid a gentle hand on her head, over her dark hair.
“Bye, sweetheart,” he said.
Lila didn’t answer him. She just bit her lip and stayed withdrawn.
You and Ben shared a glance. He was hiding it well behind his usual stoicism, but this was hurting him. There wasn’t much either of you could do about it now, however. You both had work to do, and the mission would have to come first.
“I’ll be online in a bit,” you told him. 
First, you needed to take Lila up to daycare before Frank accompanied you to your office. There you’d be able to join the mission from your computer and put your headset on. Aside from surveillance, you were their virtual eyes on missions. 
So Ben tacitly agreed, and the two of you parted ways.
You went up to the second floor to drop Lila off at daycare, where you set her onto her feet. You could see that she was quiet and almost sad, not as bright and talkative as usual. And she was clinging to your hand. You bent down the best you could in your skirt, so you could meet her eyes.
“Are you still upset with your dad?” you asked. 
After a moment, Lila replied, “Daddy’s loud.”
You couldn’t help a rueful smile. 
“Yeah, he can be,” you nodded. “But he’s gonna work on that, okay? He loves you very much.”
She finally smiled a little when you pressed a few sweet kisses to her cheeks. You felt a little better about leaving her with Sarah, the woman who ran the daycare center. She was kind, but well-organized, and good at her job of wrangling fifteen or so toddlers on a daily basis.
And she was hovering off to the side with a smile, waiting to shepherd Lila over to where the rest of the group were starting at the arts and crafts table.
“Okay, baby. I love you. I’m just downstairs if you need me,” you said, caressing Lila’s cheeks, brushing her hair away from her face.
She nodded and waved goodbye. Sarah then stepped in and guided the girl over to the crafts table. The other kids were already drawing and coloring with crayons and markers.
With a sigh, you knew you had to get to work. You joined Frank out in the hall.
“Did something happen this morning?” he asked. You gave him a weary look.
“Something always happens. I’ll fill you in when we hit the elevator,” you said.
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“Kids are resilient. She’ll bounce back,” said Frank, when you two got off the elevator down to the basement, under the first floor. This was where the “heavy stuff” happened at the S.A.
“That’s not the point, Frank. He hasn’t snapped at me like that in a long time, and he really scared her. That’s not fucking okay,” you said. “He needs to learn to control his goddamn temper.”
He sent you a knowing glance. You rolled your eyes.
“Okay, I know I don’t always help. But in this case, I was justified,” you said. “Ben was being an ass.”
“Right,” Frank nodded. “It’s not at all that he’s worried about you.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Whose side are you on?”
The man remained silent, but his stoic face wasn’t fooling you. He’d been your friend for much too long, and he knew Ben just as well…which was why you found yourself reconsidering what happened this morning.
“You really think he has a point?” you asked. “Am I working too much?”
Frank shook his head and opened the door for you into the Surveillance Department. The two of you ventured to your office, where your quadruple monitor setup was waiting for you. He also had a desk for himself, since he often spent the long hours of your day with you.
“When you were pregnant with Lila, you were on maternity leave by now,” he pointed out.
“Because we had no idea what was going to happen,” you countered. You went to your desk and started up your computer. “I had to meet with Tonya once a week, ultrasounds and blood tests all the time, making sure Lila was healthy, that I was healthy. This time around, we have a better idea of what to expect.”
For example, you were experiencing bouts of super strength once again, but it was still intermittent. Although, you pretty much never needed coffee. Maybe the supe genes coursing through your system, thanks to your unborn son, was part of the reason why you’d been able to go such long hours for these cases.
He's already brightening up my life, you thought with a little smile, holding a hand over your lower belly.
“It’s your choice,” Frank said at last. “But it is possible that Ben cares about more than just making you a suburban housewife.”
At that, you sighed. There was nothing wrong with being a housewife, you knew. It just wasn’t…you.
Once your computer and monitors were booted up, you connected to the right channels and put on your headset.
Already you could hear M.M. bitching about keeping the weapons trunk organized, not just tossing things in haphazardly. 
“It’s a simple fucking system, Frenchie. You can at least abide by it,” M.M. said. “We don’t have time to be scratching our asses while you try to find a—”
“Hey, Bert and Ernie. Would you shut the fuck up already?” Ben groused.
Your mouth twitched at his grumpiness.
“A little testy this morning, ey guv?” Butcher remarked.
“Gargle my ball sack,” Ben replied, with an even grouchier deadpan than usual.
“Do you kiss your child with that mouth?” Frenchie teased. 
“Nah, just your mother’s French hole,” Ben slung back. You rolled your eyes. 
“All right, all right. Put the measuring tapes away,” you interrupted. “I’m online, locked on your GPS.”
“Well, if it ain’t Mrs. America herself,” Butcher drawled. “Got a lock on Slingshot’s location for us?” 
“You know it,” you replied. “Sending to the group chat now. Slingshot’s been spotted entering a strip club in Chinatown.” 
“Jeez. A little early for tits and booze. It’s 10:00 a.m. on a Tuesday,” said Hughie.
You heard Ben huff in amusement. “It’s never too early.”
You snorted at that.
“Right. I’ll remember that next time you fall asleep watching Family Feud,” you clipped back.
You heard the other guys trying not to laugh as they got into Butcher’s van. Part of you felt bad for teasing Ben, knowing he was already in a bad mood, but you were feeling a bit petty about what happened this morning.
You had to bite your lip against a smile, as you could picture the ill-tempered face your man was likely sporting.
And we’re off.
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Lila wasn’t having a good day. 
She didn’t feel like coloring, and the toys just weren’t fun today.
She just didn’t want to be here. The other kids smelled like old Cheetos and feet (especially the boys).
She missed you. And though she hadn’t wanted to admit it to you, she missed Daddy too.
Lila wanted to go home…she wanted her mom. 
“I’m just downstairs if you need me,” you’d said.
Lila had a kind of plan percolating in her mind, all through the morning, and even through lunch time. She didn’t want to get in trouble, but when she’d asked Miss Sarah if she could go see you, she’d said you were at work and couldn’t come get Lila until later. 
But that’s not what Mommy said, Lila thought.  
After lunch, she laid on the napping mat with her pillow and blanket, even though she was wide awake. She didn’t want to nap with the other kids, even though Miss Sarah told her it was time to sleep. 
Again, Lila didn’t want to be bad. She didn’t want to get in trouble either, but she really, really just wanted to see you.
And you’d said it was okay to go downstairs if she needed you, right?
Lila closed her eyes while Miss Sarah was looking, but she waited until the teacher went into her office to answer a call. Then, Lila carefully put Charlie, her stuffed dog, against her pillow, tucking the blanket up to his neck. 
She crawled off her mat and snuck over to the door while Miss Sarah was distracted on her phone. Lila reached up and was just tall enough to twist the doorknob. It led her out of the room, and out into the empty hall. She then looked both ways for a clue on where to go. 
She heard a ding, and looked over at a nearby pair of elevators.
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The mission went more or less according to plan. Slingshot’s abilities allowed him to stretch every part of his body like elastic. It not only made him hard to catch, but even harder to maim without collateral damage. 
A whole block in Chinatown was wrecked in the takedown, but your idea of ripping the cables from a nearby utility pole to electrocute him let Ben finally subdue the elastic supe. Kimiko knocked him out, and Butcher slapped some tight-ass cuffs on him and dragged him into the van. They returned with the rogue supe in custody. 
You were mentally exhausted from helping them track down routes to pin down Slingshot, but you were relieved to be done. You were also satisfied that another danger to society was neutralized, for now.
You took pride in your work, and you didn’t think Ben saw that, or thought it was important. You supposed that was what upset you the most about that fight with him.
Sometimes, you wondered if he would ever truly change.
You grabbed your purse and made sure to slip in your gun and taser. You left your office and greeted Frank, who had just finished making his rounds in the building with Loco’s team. Frank joined you on the way to the elevator.
“I meant to ask you, how’s Alana doing?” you asked. Alana was his daughter, who was now in college.
“She’s changed her major yet again,” he said wryly. “This time to philosophy.”
“Philosophy? That’s interesting. What does she want to do with that?” you asked.
“No fucking clue,” he replied, hitting the button for the first floor. “I just hope she gets bored and picks something practical. Like…teaching, or dentistry.”
You shot him a bemused look. “Dentistry?”
“As much money as I put into that girl’s braces, it’d be good for her to pay it forward,” Frank said, in a surly tone that reminded you of Ben. You had to laugh.
You and Frank exited the elevator and started down the hall.
You planned to touch base with Grace Mallory on the safety measures of Slingshot’s containment before he was put into custody. The idea was to house him in a prison cell that could actually hold him until he went through the legal process. 
But you’d only gotten halfway down the hall before the supe in question literally stretched past you on unnaturally long legs—in a blur of his white and blue supe suit. Your eyes widened on a gasp as you watched him head toward the elevator you’d just come off of. 
“Fuckin’ hell, we’ve got a runner!” Butcher shouted from down the hall. He along with Ben, M.M., Frenchie, Hughie, and Kimiko were rushing your way. 
It all happened so fast. 
You registered Frank shooting out a protective arm in front of you. You turned back to see the elevator doors had opened back up, and Slingshot rushed inside. He made eye contact with you.
Then his arms shot out like rubber bands. One of them knocked Frank into the far wall. You gasped and froze on reflex. 
Ben shouted your name; he was running towards you, getting closer. You were able to meet his wide eyes for a brief moment. He reached out for you, but those stretching arms closed around you first. You gasped when they slung you backwards.
You cried out in shock when your back met a surprisingly solid chest.
Meanwhile, Ben barreled the rest of the way down the hall as the elevators closed just short of his angrily furrowed face.
The stretched arms holding you were tight around your torso, making your grit your teeth as you tried to pull away. They twisted you around so you could face your captor. Or so he could see you.
His natural height was around Butcher’s—dark hair, blue eyes, angular features. He gave you what was probably meant to be a suave smile as those baby blues dragged down your body.
“Hey, baby. Nice heels,” he said. You rolled your eyes.
“So that’s why they call you Slingshot,” you said, still a bit breathless. The elevator started to move. He’d chosen the top floor. “Where do you think you’re gonna go?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he snarked. “Anywhere but here. And you’re gonna help me.”
“How? Being a human shield?”
“For a start,” he smirked down at you. He backed up a step just to take another proper look at you, and he whistled lowly. He took your chin between his sweaty fingers, making you grimace when he stroked your cheek. 
“Down boy,” you said warily. “Trust me, you really don’t want to do this.”
This jackass hadn’t even realized you had a small, but noticeable baby bump.
“Why not, babe?” he grinned. “You’ve got the whole sexy librarian thing going on.” 
You heard a loud creaking sound outside the elevator doors. The compartment itself came to an abrupt stop, making the lights flicker. 
“What the fuck?” Slingshot muttered. His hold around you loosened. 
You had an idea of what just happened, with grim satisfaction. You also took advantage of his distraction and managed to slip a hand into your purse.
You pulled out your taser. Slingshot noticed and tried to grab you again, but the elevator somehow started to move in reverse, about a foot a time. It made both of you lose your balance and utter sounds of surprise.  
As soon as you regained your footing, you aimed the taser at the most sensitive place you could think of—the supe’s dick and balls.
His howls of pain were loud enough to reach Ben, Frank, and the rest of the team on the third floor. Ben’s face became edged with a smirk. 
He kept pulling the elevator cables down until the compartment’s doors were in reach. There he grabbed the doors and pulled them open with his bare hands, crunching metal under his fingers. The moment he saw you, the relief in your eyes, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out, into his arms. 
Slingshot was angry, though he managed to recover, rip off the taser’s metal prongs and wires, and evade Kimiko, M.M., and even Butcher when he slithered his way out of the elevator and around their guns. The bullets ricocheted off the walls, and off his body as they followed him down the hall.
Ben focused on you. He brushed his half-gloved hands over your shoulders and sides while he quickly looked you over. There was worry in his eyes, disguised as anger. You caught your breath and held a protective hand over your lower belly out of reflex. 
“You okay?” he said, but you were already nodding before he asked.
“I’m fine,” you replied. “Just get him. I’ll get Lila.” 
Ben nodded. He shot one last firm look at Frank, who was back at your side. Frank laid a hand on your shoulder as Ben took off down the hall to find Slingshot. 
“The stairs are safer at this point,” Frank said. 
“I would have to agree,” you said, steeling yourself with a breath. 
While you and Frank went downstairs to the second floor, you didn’t see the second elevator ding, its doors opening to your daughter, who ambled out alone. She looked one way down the hall, but hearing her father’s voice carrying down the opposite way, she started venturing in that direction.
If she couldn’t find you, then she’d find her dad. 
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“What the hell do you mean you lost her?” you shouted at Sarah, the woman who was supposed to be looking after your daughter. “How do you lose a three-year-old at nap time? What kind of incompetent fuck are you?”
Yes, Ben had unfortunately rubbed off on you. 
Sarah was in tears by the time you were not even halfway done, but Frank calmed you down with another touch to your shoulder. You had tears of panic stinging in your eyes when you met his gaze, your mouth trembling.
“I just radioed in and put Loco and the rest of the security team on looking for Lila. She can’t have gotten far,” he said. 
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“Come on! Keep up with me, old man,” Slingshot taunted at Ben. His super flexibility allowed him to keep several steps ahead, dodging any attempts to grab him and any weapons fired with easy dips and playful deflection. 
“When I get my hands on you, you flaccid fuck, you won’t know your ass from your ball sack,” Ben growled. 
But he crashed into the wall when he took a corner too hard trying to tackle the other supe. He picked himself up from the debris of crumbled wall and plaster, ignoring Kimiko’s offer of a helping hand. 
“Big fucking talk from the walking AARP commercial,” Slingshot snorted. He turned around and once again prepared to run. “Try not to shatter a hip, asshole!”
He took off down another bend in the hallway. Meanwhile, Ben shook himself off and joined the others in running after this cocksucker. Ben looked over at Butcher.
“What’s your fucking plan?” he grated out. 
Butcher seemed to have an idea growing in his mind. “What’d she do to him in that elevator?”
“Tased his dick, by the sound of it,” Ben replied. He knew what weapons you kept in your purse, and that you'd know better than to fire a gun in an enclosed elevator. Butcher snapped his fingers.
“Electricity. Bloody brilliant,” he said. He pointed at Hughie and grabbed Frenchie by the collar. “You, with me. I’ve got an idea. The rest of ya, get him pinned down.”
“Easier said than done, motherfucker,” M.M. grumbled. But he followed Ben and Kimiko to find their errant supe. 
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Slingshot played a cocky game, but inside, there was fear. 
They’d caught him once, and now, this building was crawling with security, let alone the assholes chasing him.
He was panting for breath when he nearly ran straight into…a kid? 
She was wandering around, trying to open a locked door. He skidded to a stop in front of her, and she looked up at him wide-eyed. He tilted his head. She was a cute little thing with brown hair and green eyes. She wore a blouse with cartoon ducks on it over her jeans and sunshine-yellow shoes. 
“Hey, cutie. Where you going?” asked Slingshot. “Are you lost?”
“Looking for my mom,” she answered, a bit timidly. The supe gave her an easy smile; inside, he knew he’d just found his collateral, and his ticket out of here. 
“Okay. What’s your name?” he asked. 
“L…Lila,” she said. 
“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he said, with all due charm. He struck a pose, with his fists held up to his waist. “I can help you, Lila. I’m a superhero.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? Like Daddy?”
“Oh, yeah. Your dad and I are friends.” Never mind that he had no fucking clue who her daddy was. He offered her his hand. 
Now, Lila knew not to talk to strangers, but if he knew her dad… 
After a moment of reluctant indecision, she took his hand. Slingshot tapered a smirk into a more friendly smile. 
“Let’s go find him.”  
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Ben was ahead of the pack, but he soon came to an abrupt stop with wider eyes. He finally found Slingshot, except he had Ben’s daughter by the hand. Slingshot wore a cocky grin as he took the child up into his arms. 
“Hey, guys. Who’s this little peanut belong to?” he asked. “Said she was looking for her daddy.” 
Ben’s breath turned to lead in his lungs. Lila’s eyes lit up with recognition when she saw him. 
“Daddy!”
Ben’s softer gaze shifted from her, hardening once it reached the other supe. 
“Let her go,” he growled lowly. 
Slingshot’s grin deepened incredulously as he laughed.
“Oh shit, she’s yours?” he exclaimed. “This’s just too fucking perfect.”
“Lila!” your shout came from behind Ben, and you stepped around M.M. and Kimiko.
Ben held out a hand to keep you at bay. He kept his eyes on Slingshot, but Ben heard your gasp. His stomach dipped, knowing your worry had to be reaching new heights as you took in the situation.
“Ben,” you uttered. 
“I’ve got this,” he said to you.
“You don’t got shit, old man,” Slingshot snapped. He shot you a smirk next. “She’s your bitch? Figures.”
“Just let her go,” you implored. You had tears brimming in your eyes. “We can negotiate your release if you promise to be more responsible.”
Ben shot you a glance then. He didn’t intend for this fucker to live, let alone walk the streets of New York again. But he supposed any bluff was worth it at this point.
Meanwhile, seeing the distress on her parents’ faces made Lila begin to break down into tears. She whined, pushing against the supe holding her, wanting to be let go. 
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Slingshot cooed. “You’re just gonna take a little trip with me.”
“No!” a ragged shout tore from your throat when he took a few backward steps down the hall. 
Ben held you back from following him, all while he tensed with rage. M.M. and Kimiko were also poised to try and stop the supe. But Slingshot tightened his hold on Lila in warning.
“Back the fuck off,” he demanded. “Once I get to JFK and get my ass on a plane, maybe, maybe you see your daughter aga—”
He had to stop short, as he sensed something just outside of his peripheral vision.
It was Butcher, coming at him to swing a baseball bat at the supe’s head.
You screamed in protest, but Butcher was relying on the supe’s reflexes to dodge the bat. He wasn’t disappointed. Slingshot dodged. Though in his distraction, it gave Ben the opening he needed to step into his orbit and land a solid punch across Slingshot’s face.
It not only cracked his jaw, but also caught him off guard enough for his grip on the child to loosen. Ben grabbed his daughter and turned her away in a protective embrace.
Then Frenchie brought Slingshot down with the prongs of a massive taser clipping onto his nipples. He jolted and screamed—and went down hard on the tile floor. 
While Hughie and M.M. ushered in the rest of the security team to swarm in and take the supe into custody, you raced forward to Ben and Lila in tears.
Lila was also crying and clinging to Ben’s neck, shaking like a leaf.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said quietly, so only she could hear. Lila whimpered and burrowed tighter against his neck.
Tears streamed down your face, but you tried to breathe through it. You rubbed her back and checked her over, making sure she wasn’t hurt. 
For Ben, the force of his relief was pounding in his ears. He briefly closed his eyes as he held his daughter closer. 
When he opened them again, he met your gaze. You couldn’t speak. All you could do was grab onto his wrist for support. He gave that to you, wrapping his free arm around your waist and pulling you into his side. 
“Frank,” he said. His voice was a sharp command. The other man was ready to carry out whatever Ben asked. He also looked relieved to see that Lila was all right.
“Pull the car around,” said Ben. Frank nodded, and went to do just that.
Ben turned to watch in satisfaction when Frenchie and M.M. hauled up a still twitching Slingshot. Butcher slapped a pair of electroshock handcuffs on him that would keep him better contained this time—courtesy of the S.A. armory. He nodded over at Ben, and the latter returned the gesture. 
You missed it all, as you were preoccupied with comforting your daughter.
“It’s okay, honey. We’re going home,” you gently whispered to Lila, who was still hiding her face in Ben’s neck. You shared a look with him, and he gave you a short nod. His hand moved to the small of your back, both protective and possessive as the three of you moved towards the garage exit. 
There Frank waited with the car that would take your family home.
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You watched Ben with the beginning of tears brimming in your eyes. You managed to hold them at bay while he set Lila down in her bed. You’d just finished giving her a bath and helping her get into her pajamas after a quiet, somewhat tense dinner. 
Lila still seemed upset in her unusually quiet mood, which you knew was understandable. Ben sat at her bedside and soothed a hand over her head, brushing her cheek with his thumb. 
“You’ve had a crazy friggin’ day, huh?” he asked. Lila didn’t want to look at him, but he encouraged it with gentle fingers brushing her chin, teasing the tip of her nose. She hinted at a smile and finally met his eyes. He smiled back at her, if more reserved. But his expression turned serious again.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. He could see it. She had been more or less fine throughout dinner, but now she’d turned quiet and withdrawn again. She only got like that when she was upset about something.
Lila toyed with the ear of her stuffed animal, Charlie. Frank had retrieved it for her from the daycare.
“Sorry I talked to strangers,” Lila mumbled.
You had to bite the inside of your lip so you wouldn’t cry. You came over to sit on the other side of her bed. You sniffed and shook your head, but Ben beat you to what you wanted to say. 
“You’re not in trouble, all right? We’re not mad,” he said. 
Lila’s lower lip wobbled. Ben sighed and picked her up, plopping her down in his lap. She hugged him as tight as she could and he held her back, warm and secure.  
“You know I’m always gonna be there to keep you safe. You never have to worry or be afraid,” he said. 
You carded your fingers through Lila’s hair so she knew you were there too. Usually, the roles were reversed, where you were doing the comforting and Ben was the solid support. Right now though, you just didn’t have the words. Not when guilt was eating you from the inside out.
Fortunately, your husband did have the words, after he heaved a sigh. 
“I might raise my voice, sometimes, but uh…you never have to be afraid of me either. Okay?” he said.
"Mhmm," Lila agreed.
You laid hand on Ben's arm, gently squeezing. He met your gaze, and knew what you were prodding with just that look in your eyes.
Briefly, he hesitated before he looked back down at his daughter.
"I'm sorry I scared you," he said.
Lila nodded against his chest. “It's okay.”
“Good,” he said, laying a kiss on her forehead. “All right, you ready to go to bed?”
She clung to him and made a sound of refusal. 
You were finally able to crack a smile. You leaned down by her ear. 
“You want Daddy to read you a story first?” you asked. 
Ben shot you a look at the way you volunteered him for that. He was tired and drained. 
But one hopeful, shiny look from his daughter, and he folded like a deck of cards.
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Later, when Lila was asleep, you tucked her in one last time and Ben turned out the light. He kept the door cracked open, just in case she called for either one of you tonight.
Then, somehow, you and Ben ended up in the kitchen instead of the bedroom. As exhausted as both of you were, you needed this moment to decompress, with one of your old favorite pastimes…
He broke out the whiskey while you found an appropriate midnight snack, and then a seat with him at the breakfast bar. The two of you shared a companionable silence, as well as a large bag of sea salt and vinegar chips. 
That was sort of how you felt inside.
“Today can’t happen again,” Ben said, breaking the silence. 
You looked over at him, but he was looking beyond you. Maybe so he didn’t have to show you how deeply he’d been rattled. You knew him far too well for that. 
“Of course not,” you replied. And you released a sigh. “So here’s what I’m thinking. From now on I’ll work from home, so I can watch Lila until she goes to preschool.”
Ben got ready to argue, but you held up a hand. The other went to rest over your belly. You had scheduled an ultrasound with Dr. Tonya Baker tomorrow, just to make sure all was well after this ordeal.
“I already plan to take my maternity leave when this guy rolls into town,” you said with a smile. “Then, when I’m ready, and if it’s feasible, I can continue to work from home until all the kids are in school.”
Ben’s lips twitched humorlessly. He should’ve known you’d continue making this a negotiation. He set down his glass, and he reached out to slide a hand over yours, across your belly. He took in a deep breath. But when he let it go, you sensed you still hadn’t convinced him.
“Listen, I know you don’t want me to work—” you began.
“It’s not that,” he said. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said it. “It’s not.”
Despite yourself, you read the sincerity in his words. It had you pausing, waiting for him to continue.
“You know damn well…that just being around me is dangerous,” he said. “To you, and to Lila. But you being connected with Supe Affairs, working these missions, even from behind a desk, it’s a fucking risk. It’ll always be a risk.”
You considered that with new understanding. You took his hand with both of yours.
“Ben, this life, this work…it’s the same for me as it is for you. It’s all I know how to do. It’s what I’m wired for. So that’s why it’s hard for me to turn down that dial,” you explained. “But look, I understand what you’re saying. Believe me, I do. And today…today was…”
Your breath hitched as tears stung in your eyes. Ben shook his head and tugged you closer.
“Come ‘ere,” he said.
You left your chair to go to him. You stood between his long legs while he pulled you into a warm embrace. Logically, you knew that what happened today wasn’t your fault. However, part of you still felt like a failure of a mother for underestimating the risks of having your daughter at the S.A.  
You should’ve known better, you berated yourself. And yet, it was Ben’s words that stopped your train of thought.
“Today wasn't on you,” he said. "Get that thought outta your head."
He knew you well too, and this was one of those times. You wept harder against him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. He held you, comforted you until you began to calm down.
“Take your maternity leave early,” he said. His deep voice was a rumble. “You’re going to have your hands full with Lila when I’m not here. Unless we hire someone to help you.”
It was an idea you could consider, but who could you trust? That was the question. 
Maybe your mother? you thought. You knew she was thinking of retiring from her job in a couple of years anyway.
You sighed and slipped your fingers through Ben’s hair. Your hand came to rest on the back of his neck as you leaned against him.
When Lila came into your lives, you had been so excited to start a family that you hadn’t considered the non-physical side effects. Namely, the sacrifices you would have to make in order to keep your family safe. 
Before you met Ben, your job was your life. But today reminded you that your daughter…and your unborn son, were more important to you than your job. No matter how important that job might be for the rest of the world. 
“Let’s talk about this more tomorrow,” you said, shaking your head. “I can’t think anymore.”
After a beat of hesitation, he agreed with a nod. Like so many battles before, whatever compromise you and Ben finally reached would be hard won. His hand found your cheek and caressed your skin.
“You still try my fucking patience, you know that?” he muttered.
You smiled tiredly. “Did you really expect that to change?”
He scoffed. Even so, he guided you off his shoulder so that he could claim your lips. His kiss tasted like the burn of whiskey. You met his demanding lips in kind, though you were the first one to part from him slowly. 
“I love you,” you whispered a reminder. 
Ben nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead. He lingered there for a moment, as if he could pause the world for a while. 
He eventually let out a breath through his nose and allowed himself to be honest.
“I love you too,” he said.
With that shared understanding, he stood from his seat. He drained the last of his glass before he bent to gather you up into his arms. You yelped in surprise, clinging to his shoulders.
“Time for some rest,” Ben said. There was a certain smile on his face, gentler than usual.
He forged a path towards the bedroom. You sighed and laid your head against his chest. 
For once, you didn’t argue with him.  
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AN: I've been wanting to put this one out for a while now. 💚💚 I so hope you enjoyed this chapter of the BMD verse! Do you like how their little family is evolving? 😘
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I want this every day (Charles Leclerc)
Charles has been frustrated with the team's strategies and the results he's been getting lately so you find a way to cheer him up
Note: english is not my first language. I was going to write it earlier on the week, but then I felt like I a jinxing it so I stopped... but after today, I think it's a good place to start...
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions Jules Bianchi
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
Another race weekend where he was out qualified by his team-mate left Charles with the feeling that if it came to it, he was almost one hundred percent sure they would ask them to swap positions.
Points for the team would be important anyway and they came away with a good amount and the car showed to be competitive enough considering the RedBull dominance on the grid, but the frustration was still there.
With the team and with himself.
They told him they'd keep him - there wasn't a quesion put down about his contract -, Il Predestinato wasn't something he carried lightly but often times it was confusing. Without the support and appreciation from inside the team, it was proving difficult to achieve their goals.
His childhood dream was driving for Ferrari and Suzuka always carried a heavier weight for him. As he took off his helmet and was faced with the number 17 on the side, he apoligised. To Jules, who he wanted to make proud every day but even more on this particular track. To his fans, who deserved better than this. To you, who were there for him, arms open for a hug and a shoulder where he could cry and let his feelings out on, to hold him and remind him every single time that all of the nonsense commentators and the media still had the audacity to say about him despite his continous shows of intelligence, skill and talent, and to love him.
The way you loved him was something he had never felt before and had never thought he deserved.
The face you were giving everyone in the garage that dared look at you wasn't unfortunately a rare occurrence, hence the fact that so very few team members approached you, "Charles is just finishing his interviews, he should be here soon", Silvia said before excusing herself from the garage.
You walked to your boyfriend's driver room, knowing he would end up in there soon enough after greeting the mechanics and engineers.
He stepped inside the room less than fifteen minutes later, finding your embrace immediately as his arms wrapped around your waist, "it's not fair that this keeps happening", he mumbled.
"I know it isn't", you kissed his stubbly cheek while rubbing his back soothingly.
"I thought I could've done so much better, for the fans, for you, for Jules", he hiccuped, letting himself be vulnerable after bottling up everything he was feeling.
"You did us proud, Charles - he is always so proud of you", you cupped hisface in your hands as you hoped the words got through to him, "okay?".
The flight back home had Charles sleeping most of the time, the whole rush of the weekend catching up with his body as he slept with his head on your thighs, your fingers playing with his locks while you arranged your schedule for the week ahead.
"I was thinking we could spend some time together today", you said over the phone, hoping he hadn't booked anything since you made sure that Andrea and Joris had cleared his schedule so you could make this happen without a hitch.
"You don't have work?", Charles asked, "no, I arranged a few things and a meeting got cancelled", you explained.
"Good, I don't have anything to do either, I was just going to stay home, but being with you sounds much nicer, my place or your place?", he wondered.
"My place, please", you replied immediately, "I just want to change my clothes and I'm feeling like spending the afternoon in", you tried, hoping he would catch on and not mess up your surprise.
"Okay, amour! Do you need me to pick you up from work?", Charles asked and you heard a small smile on his face. You weren't sure why, but Charles really got a kick out of dropping you off and picking you up from work, so you felt bad for the answer you were giving him, "it's okay, you can meet me there, I'm already walking", you said as you drove out of the shop and headed home. It was an inoffensive lie but you kept telling yourself it was for a greater good.
"Okay, I'll meet you there in twenty minutes or so", he said, "Je t'aime, mon amour".
Riccardo seemed to have parked the car at the front of your building, making you get the bag out of your car trunk and join him and his family, "hey guys! Thank you for coming to this", you smiled, touching Chiara's foot softly and getting a giggle out of the little girl.
"No worries, this is such a nice idea and we're happy to help!", Marta said, letting you walk up to the door so you could get to your apartment.
"For the first time in my life, I'm the first one somewhere, and then they showed up too!", Joris said as the rest of the group you invited stood up from the hallway floor.
"I'm sorry for making you wait, but I had to pick these up and then the call with Charles had to be done at the precise time so he wouldn't get here before I did!", you explained, unlocking the door and letting them in.
"So we're fine to wait, but Charles can't wait for you?", Joris teased, making kissing noises as you shook your head, "privileges of being my boyfriend - it is what it is!", you chuckled.
Delegating the small tasks you left for the last minute, Charles' text saying he had just parked the car was enough to capture you attention, "quick quick, go hide in the living room - careful with the board game boxes! He's coming up!", you ushered your friends to the living room before your boyfriend knocked on your door.
"Hello, my love", you said, kissing his lips and pulling him inside the supposedly quiet apartment.
"Hey, gorgeous girl - I missed you", he squeezed you tight once you closed the door, "I was getting in my he - what's that?", Charles asked as a noise came from the living room.
Chiara squealed loudly enough for him to hear, so in part your surprise was not such a surprise, "you're not alone?", he mused.
Lacing your hand in his, you pulled him to the living room as everyone jumped out of their places to greet him!
"Surprise - ish!", you waved your hands as if you were announcing some great show, "I gathered all your favourite people - Lorenzo is coming with Charlotte in a bit, he just picked her up from work and your mother also had a cliente so she'll arrive a little later. Arthur is in the bathroom?", you wondered as you saw him walk out and pat his brother's back, not missing the truly surprised look on his face as he pulled you closer to him, kissing your temple, "you're the best, amour, thank you", he whispered.
You had food laid out in the coffee table and drinks in the kitchen where everybody could serve themselves so you could have your dining table available for the board and card games you were playing along with some building blocks for Chiara who was immediately stolen from her parents once your boyfriend saw her.
"Do we want to make a castle? Or maybe a rollercoaster?", Charles mused with the little girl sitting on his lap, still keeping an eye on his Monopoly game to make sure no one was missing any of the payments on his properties, "Good job, chérie!", he congratulated her, kissing her chubby cheek.
"Do you want me to get you guys anything? I'm already going to the kitchen", you wondered, "can you fill this up for us, please?", Marta asked as she handed you the orange juice jug, "yes, of course!", you grabbed it.
"This was a great idea, Y/N", Lorenzo said whole he poured himself a drink as you stepped into the kitchen, "he's been in his head a lot recently", he began.
"It's not much, really, it was quite easy to put everything together and you being here was very kind", you brushed it off.
"Y/N, gathering his favourite people to do something he loves apart from racing may seem simple but it's what he needs right now - don't underestimate yourself or the ability you have to bring him back to a good mental space", he rubbed your shoulder before going back to open the door, "it's our mother", he excused himself.
You set the jug on the table and took Chiara from your boyfriend's arms, volunteering to change her nappy in your bedroom.
Charles hugged his mother tight, "Hello, mon petit", she cupped his face and kissed his cheek, "I'm not little anymore", Charles blushed, "you and your brothers will always be my little boys, I don't care how old or how tall you get", she smiled, greeting everyone else in the room.
His favourite people were all in the same place, Charles thought. Some were playing cards, some were just chatting and you just picked his friends' daughter to change her nappy like she was your own.
"Do you have room for one more? I'm usually pretty good at this!", Lorenzo said as he sat at the dining table, "you take my game - it's not too bad, just make sure Marta pays up what she owes me - two hotels in my blue cards", Charles raised his eyebrows, "I know you were counting on your daughter's cuteness to distract me, but I have excellent vision", he smirked.
Charles walked to your bedroom, seeing you close the diaper bag as Chiara kicked the air, layed on top of your comforter and giggling at the story you were telling her, "and then I had to tell the lady 'that won't do, because I have my boyfriend's family and our friends over for dinner and I can't have too little food! Even if I have left overs for weeks!' because that's what's right, right? She also had this very fluffy bread that was still warm from the oven so I asked her if she could add that because I knew you'd like it - bread is the best, isn't it, cutie?", you spoke.
You were it, he had known that for a long time.
You were the one he wanted to grow old with and go through every challenge life wanted to throw at you, because he knew you both could face them if you were there.
"And who is that spying on us, hm? It's Charles! Let's go and give Charles a big hug and many kisses!", you smiled, picking her up and approaching your boyfriend, cuddling into his chest as you kept the little girl on your arms, kissing his chest while Chiara palmed his face and giggled when Charles pretended to eat her fingers, "yummy fingers, nom, nom, nom".
"I need to get started on dinner - I'm doing that roast you really like", you offered, "I already prepped most of it, just need to cut up the veggies and then put in the oven, simple as that".
"C'mon, Chiara - I bet my mother is wondering where you are because she'll want a cuddle", Charles took her from your arms, "I'll be back for you", Charles slapped your butt playfully.
You were seasoning the food on the trays, making sure you weren't forgetting anything when your boyfriend walked up to join you, wrapping his arms around your waist, "thank you for this, I really needed it", he kissed under your ear, turning you around to face him and kissing your lips properly, "it's fine", you scoffed.
"No, I really needed it - it's easy to lose sight of these things and these moments", he began, "I was home and getting way too much into my own head and I wouldn't got to anyone unless they asked about it", he admitted, squeezing your body closer to his.
"I'm glad you liked it, it's truly nothing but I'm glad you're happy", you smiled, "I can't control what goes on your mind all the time but I'm going to make sure that whenever you're near me and say silly things about doubting yourself, I will always help you see the truth and work it out with you - no down talking about yourself when you're with me, understood?", you stated firmly almost like you were lecturing him.
"I know, amour", he giggled, kissing your forehead and then littering some more kisses on your face and making you break out in laughter loudly.
The dinner was great and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves as they ate the meal and spoke about whatever came to mind, summer plans already in discussion.
Charles was helping you put away the plates when he decided he would voice the thoughts running through his head. Usually at this time of the day he was already knee deep into strategies and failed attempts, but this time was different.
"I want this every day", Charles said with a big smile on his face.
"Well, not all of us have your schedule, it would be lovely, but maybe making it a weekly thing? Monthly maybe with your schedule?", you tried, not wanting to kick his idea straight to the trash.
"I don't mean that - I've been thinking about this a lot lately, and I was wondering if you'd like to move in with me", Charles clarified, "there's no point to keep two places when realistically, we spend most times at eachother's place - you're down to what? Sleeping two nights here per week?", he noted as you smiled.
"You want to move in together?", you checked and he nodded, "yes, I do - honestly, I've thinking we keep my place since you're renting here and that way you'd be closer to work, too", he suggested.
"Sounds good to me", you smiled, kissing his lips, sealing the deal.
"I don't want to be far away from you when we don't have to be, and this way you can save on rent, too!", he added and before you truly lectured him, he caught you ahead, "I know you won't let me pay for things on my own and we will find some arrangement for that, I was just saying you won't have to keep paying your landlord", he smiled.
"I mean it when I say I want to split expenses, okay?", you argued, "unless you start going with expensive caviar or any of that crazy expensive stuff - my salary can't take that", you joked.
"When have you ever seen that in my fridge?", he threw his head back as he laughed.
"I'm only joking, handsome - I can't wait to move in with you", you hugged him, "I love you, Charles, can't wait to be your new roomie".
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strangersmunsons · 2 months
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Eddie goes shopping with you. eddie munson x gn!reader, ~900 words
“Okay, now what do you think of this?” You hold out a crisp white button-down shirt.
“I think that’s great,” he says automatically. 
“Eddie,” you sigh impatiently, “you’ve said that about every article of clothing we’ve seen today. I need like, an actual opinion.”
“That is an actual opinion.” He sounds offended that you might suggest otherwise.
“C’mon, I’m trying to look professional! You gotta help me.”
“I am helping!” Eddie holds up both arms to emphasize his point — he’s laden with bags from the stores you hit earlier in your shopping venture, weighed down with the new clothes you’re purchasing so as to better look the part for your new job.
A small giggle escapes you in spite of your exasperation. “I told you you don’t have to carry any of those,” you remind him, folding your arms across your chest.
Eddie scoffs. “And what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you haul this crap around all day?” He shakes his head, dark curls tumbling about his soft face. “No way. Wayne raised me right, thank you.”
“Well, that he certainly did,” you admit, a rush of affection warming your chest. Unable to help yourself, you reach out and pinch his little cheek between your thumb and index finger.
He pouts at the gesture, pretending to be annoyed; but really, a thrill shoots through him at the brief moment of contact. Oh, what he wouldn’t give for you to be touching him always. 
But it’s not like that. Not for you two.
Eddie tells himself that it’s okay, that he’s accepted it, he’ll content himself with daydreams and fantasies as he always has —
“Do you think black looks classier, though?” You’ve turned back to face the clothing rack again, thoughtfully fingering the silky fabric of a dark shirtsleeve. Your eyes narrow. “Or is it almost too formal?”
Eddie blinks dazedly, then shrugs. “I dunno. I wear black all the time, no one’s ever put me up for best dressed.” He frowns. “I suppose it’s a little different when it’s a Metallica t-shirt, though.”
You poke him playfully. “Or ripped jeans.”
Eddie swats your hand away, heart leaping.
You snicker in response, then soften. “For the record, I do like the way you dress. It goes with your whole thing, y’know?” You motion towards him vaguely, hands waving up and down his figure.
“My thing?”
“Mmhmm,” you hum. “The hair, the attitude, the music. Even your name. The whole thing.”
“What does my name have to do with any of that stuff?”
You shift your weight from foot to foot as you think about how to word your answer, tongue poking ever so slightly out of your mouth — an unconscious imitation of the face Eddie often makes when he’s focusing. He swoons a little when he realizes that you’re picking up some of his habits.
“I mean, if I didn’t know who you were, and someone told me to pick out the guy named Eddie Munson from a crowd of a hundred people, I could do it like that,” you tell him, snapping your fingers on the last word. “No one has ever looked more like they should be named Eddie Munson than you.” Your eyes cut over to his. “Does that make sense?”
Bewildered, Eddie’s eyebrows have shot up so high they’ve all but disappeared under his bangs. “…kind…of?”
You pat his shoulder, amused. “Don’t worry about it. Just look at the shirt.”
Obediently, his gaze flits back to the top. You smile expectantly, and he works to offer some sincere judgment. 
“Um, it looks comfier than the white one? Not as starchy.”
You nod sagely. “True.” You examine it more closely, a flicker of uncertainty clouding your features. “Do you think it’d look okay on me?”
Of course he does. He thinks you look nice in everything. In your pajamas, in your dressiest formalwear — it doesn’t matter. He never wants to hold you any less. To him, you’ve always the most beautiful person in the world. Whatever you happen to put on your body is irrelevant.
But this is the whole point of him accompanying you; he practically begged for you to let him tag along, swearing that it would be fun and that he’d help you. You’d been a smidge embarrassed at first, certain he’d grow impatient with your indecisiveness and bored with the constant vanishing into dressing rooms, but you seem comfortable now, letting him tote your bags around and asking for his advice. He hopes you’ll take him again next time, and then the next time, and then again after that…
“Yes, I do. I think you’d look really wonderful,” he finally answers. “You look incredible in everything you wear. Honest. You don’t need to worry about anything you buy today.”
Your eyes shine, a bashful smile spreading across your lips. “Really?”
“Of course,” he replies, face reddening. “You — you could wear a potato sack and make it look good, frankly.”
You laugh. “Yes, I’m sure that would be very flattering on me.”
“Hey, I think you could rock it.” He knows you think he’s teasing you, but he means it. And he’ll tell you again, and again, and again, until you believe him.
He’s got nothing but time.
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hideawaysis · 2 months
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hello. absolutely hate involving myself in fandom drama, but ifeel this is an important post to make as i have seen a lot of people taking a certain post at face value and believing it.
im referring to this one, made by @/realultimatehater
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now, before i say these things, i feel the need to preface this by saying that i do not personally wish to align myself in this fandom debate. i am a tax-paying adult and do not have any energy or time to put into arguing about a tv show on the internet. nonetheless, i have seen people blindly spreading this post around and i feel this needs to be addressed.
this person is lying.
it feels like it should be obvious with the levels of "down with cis bus" energy pulsating off of this, but it's a huge fucking lie.
this person is a known harasser and has targeted children in the past. they will do anything, and i mean ANYTHING to rack up attention and internet points. they have made bold claims like this with little to no evidence in the past all so they can garner more hatred for certain fandoms on the internet. testimonies here and here, and some pretty damning screenshots here.
i advise you all to stop reblogging the post ive shown. it's disinformation, a story fabricated to direct more vitriol towards a fandom with little to no proof that it can somehow make people like this or attract people like this. this person is either a troll or just plain deranged. please stop believing what they say.
tags added for reach.
edit: i received an anonymous ask giving me extra information on this topic, apparently this person is in fact an internet troll who has gone under countless aliases and will often fake identities in order to ruin the reputations of others. more information here and here.
edit 2: another anon ask gave me a preserved version of a post from realultimatehater's first account, showing how they'd crop screenshots of dms in order to make it look like they were being harassed for simply having a negative opinion on hazbin hotel. here's the post, though do know the reblog is from a supporter of them, make of that what you will. here's another version of the post ifound showing how they'd bait people into saying these kinds of things in order to make them look bad. and here's another one! wow!
i also found a few asks showing how this person would literally approach hazbin fans and just blatantly insult them, rather than blocking them. because yeah, when you detest a fandom, you clearly must stir up conflict! that'll keep them away from you! said asks can be viewed here and here
edit 3: the anon i received telling me realultimatehater was an internet troll who'd been trolling people for years apparently was not being truthful, this does not discredit the other evidence ive listed but id really appreciate if people would stop spreading that ask around. ive removed the link to the ask, sincere apologies to anyone affected by that
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