#maybe this is me just not wanting to accept that he went through with it
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✨ His only exception - Pt. 24/? ✨
Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader
Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, angst, hurt, VERY soft Ben, Ben gets hurt
Word Count: 7322
A/N: This is part 24 of “His only exception”.
English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨
Butcher leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Hughie as he spoke. "There's still no word from Soldier Boy or (y/n)", he growled, his frustration evident in his tone. "It's been too quiet. By now, Soldier Boy should have made a move, tried to take out the team. It´s been over a week. There's something off about this".
Annie paced back and forth, her expression troubled. "Maybe they're planning something", she suggested, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Or maybe they're waiting for the right moment".
Butcher shook his head, his jaw clenched in frustration. "I don't buy it", he muttered, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "We need to find out what they're up to, and fast".
Annie sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Let's face it, Butcher", she said resignedly. "If Soldier Boy wants us dead, we're as good as dead. We don't stand a chance against him".
Butcher's jaw tightened, his frustration evident as he slammed his fist against the table. "We can't just sit around waiting to die", he growled, his voice edged with determination. "We need to find out what they're planning and stop them before it's too late".
Hughie shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze darting between Butcher and Annie. "I just… I can't believe (y/n) would betray us like that", he muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Annie raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. "Did you forget that we all lied to her for weeks?", she pointed out. "She has every reason to be angry with us".
Butcher grunted in agreement. "Doesn't mean she'd side with Soldier Boy", he interjected, his voice gruff. "But we can't rule anything out. We need to be prepared for anything".
Annie let out a sarcastic laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. "Do you still not get it, Butcher?", she groaned, frustration evident in her tone. "Soldier Boy and (y/n) are head over heels for each other, and they're just too stubborn to admit it. But trust me, they'd die for each other".
Butcher's expression darkened at Annie's words. "Doesn't mean we have to accept it", he grumbled. "We need to find a way to stop them before they do something stupid".
You glanced over at Ben, concern etched on your features as you sat in the passenger seat of the car. "Are you sure about this?", you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty.
Ben met your gaze, his expression resolute as he nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure", he replied, his voice firm.
With a deep exhale, you settled back into your seat, trusting Ben's decision despite your lingering doubts. As the car pulled away from the hotel, you couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehension about what lay ahead.
The news of Annie and A-Train taking over Vought in Homelander's absence sent shockwaves through the media, dominating headlines for days. Reports of Ashley's dismissal only added to the turmoil surrounding the company, leaving many speculating about the future of Vought and the Seven.
As you and Ben drove through the city, the chatter on the radio and the buzz of conversations around you were filled with speculation and uncertainty. Even after all those months. It was clear that the power dynamics within Vought were shifting, and the implications of Annie and A-Train's rise to prominence were yet to be fully realized.
So when Ben entered the bustling lobby of Vought Tower, clad in his imposing supe suit, a hush fell over the crowd. People stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening in disbelief and fear at the sight of him. The front desk staff immediately sprang into action, frantically dialing Starlight and A-Train, hoping to quell whatever disturbance Ben's presence might herald.
But Ben remained unfazed by the commotion around him, his gaze fixed on his destination as he strode purposefully through the crowd towards the elevators. The air crackled with tension as he passed, his mere presence casting a shadow over the bustling lobby.
As you waited in the car, a sense of anxiety gnawed at your insides. You watched the chaos unfolding through the windshield, your heart pounding in your chest as you wondered what Ben was up to inside the building.
Despite the order to stay put, you couldn't help but feel a surge of worry for Ben's safety. You fidgeted in your seat, torn between the urge to rush inside and the knowledge that Ben had instructed you to stay in the car for your own protection.
As Ben entered the top floor, Annie and A-Train stood with arms crossed, their expressions guarded. Butcher and the rest of the team stood nearby, tension thick in the air.
Ben's arrival caused a momentary pause in the commotion, all eyes turning to him. With a wry grin, he addressed Butcher.
"Did you miss me?", he quipped, his voice laced with amusement despite the underlying tension.
As Ben strode past them, his presence commanding attention, Butcher tensed, ready for a confrontation. However, Hughie's restraining hand on his arm halted his advance, a silent plea for patience.
Meanwhile, Ben found his place at the head of the table in the meeting room of the seven, legs crossed casually as he leaned back in his chair. With a commanding tone, he addressed the room, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.
"Sit down", he ordered, his gaze sweeping over each member of the assembled group, his authority leaving no room for argument.
With a flash of his glowing chest, Ben's voice took on a more aggressive tone, his patience wearing thin as he bellowed, "I said sit the fuck down!".
His words echoed through the room. Slowly, the members of the group complied, taking their seats with wary glances exchanged among them.
With that, Ben stood up again and paced back and forth behind their chairs. "Now fucking look at you all", he remarked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "A bunch of good little pussies, sitting here like obedient lapdogs".
As he approached Butcher, his footsteps echoed ominously in the silence of the room. With deliberate intent, he placed both hands firmly on Butcher's shoulders, exerting just enough pressure to convey his dominance.
"Now, listen up", he began, his voice low and commanding. "We've got some serious shit to discuss, and I won't tolerate any bullshit. You fucking hear me?".
Ben's grip tightened slightly on Butcher's shoulders as he continued his speech.
"Now, first things first", he declared, his tone firm and unwavering. "You're all still breathing thanks to your friend, (Y/N). She convinced me not to rip each and every one of you to shreds". It wasn´t a lie. The two of you talked about it over and over again.
There was a hint of begrudging respect in his words, an acknowledgment of your influence over him in that crucial moment.
Ben's steps echoed across the polished floor as he made his way back towards the head of the table, his arms folded across his chest in a display of dominance. His gaze swept over the assembled group, each member tensing under his piercing stare.
"But here's the thing", he continued, his voice low and dangerous. "One fucking wrong move, and not even her pretty little mouth will be able to stop me from ripping each and every one of your cocksucking heads off".
His words hung heavy in the air, a warning of the consequences they would face if they dared to cross him again. The room fell silent, the tension palpable as everyone processed the gravity of his threat.
Ben's smirk widened into a self-assured grin as he delivered his next words with unmistakable confidence.
"So how about welcoming the new fucking head of Vought?", he declared. "America's first supe. Myself. I'm fucking America now".
His proclamation sent shockwaves through the room, the implications of his statement sinking in as everyone processed the magnitude of what Ben had just declared.
As Butcher began to rise from his seat, Ben swiftly raised a finger, shaking his head in a warning gesture.
"Uh-uh", he grinned.
Then, his voice rose to a thunderous roar, echoing through the room as he bellowed, "You sit the fuck down!".
Ben´s eyes starting to glow which left everyone breathless and frozen in place, cowed by the sheer force of his power.
"You know, actually, you did something good with capturing me", he admitted, his eyes no longer glowing with anger. "Leaving me alone with just my thoughts and my body I couldn´t fucking move, bringing my head pretty much back to russia… I discovered some stuff about myself".
He paused for a moment, looking at his hands as he continued, "Seems like the Russians actually gave me some strong updates, you know, all that radioactive energy. I can channeling it".
As he spoke, his hands began to emit a faint glow, a tangible manifestation of the power coursing through him.
What Ben didn't mention, however, was the difficulties he still had in controlling his power and himself.
"So since none of you got a fucking complaint", he declared, his tone firm, "I'll wait until 8 tonight to make this shit official. We will discuss everything else then".
His words hung in the air. "And now, leave the fucking building!".
The team began to file out, not wanting to escalate the situation further.
As everyone left, Ben texted you to come up. Just as you stepped into the elevator, your heart skipped a beat when you were met with Jay standing there. His presence sent a jolt of surprise and uncertainty coursing through you, momentarily stealing your breath.
"Jay…", you uttered his name, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jay's expression was a mix of concern and frustration as he spoke, his words tumbling out in a rush as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. "I haven't heard from you in two weeks", he began, his voice tinged with worry. "What's going on?".
You swallowed hard, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you as you met Jay's gaze. "It's… complicated", you murmured, your voice barely audible above the hum of the elevator.
Jay's expression softened slightly as he stepped closer to you, his eyes searching yours for answers. "Where have you been?", he asked, his tone filled with genuine concern. "I've been worried sick".
As the elevator came to a stop at the top floor, you struggled to find the right words, but Ben's footsteps echoed already towards the elevator, his expression darkening as he caught sight of you speaking to some guy.
"Who the fuck is this little bitch?", Ben's voice cut through the tension, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto Jay. His jaw clenched at the sight of another man talking to you.
Feeling the weight of Ben's intense gaze, you struggled to find the right words. You turned to Ben, a pleading look in your eyes.
"Ben, can you give us a few minutes?", you asked, your voice trembling slightly. Despite the urgency of the situation, you needed a moment to compose yourself and figure out how to navigate the delicate balance between your past with Jay and your present with Ben.
Meanwhile, Jay took a step back, his expression wary as he sized up the situation. He could sense the tension radiating from Ben and wisely chose to give you space to handle it.
Ben's brows furrowed deeper, his expression hardening as he regarded you with suspicion. "What for?", he demanded, his voice low. He wasn't about to entertain any delays or distractions, especially not when another man was involved.
You groaned in frustration, realizing that revealing the truth about your relationship with Jay would only escalate the situation further. But still, you had to be honest. Knowing Ben, he wouldn't give up so easily. With a heavy sigh, you mumbled, "This is Jay… We… dated".
Jay raised an eyebrow at your choice of words, his expression shifting to one of confusion. "Dated? Past tense?", he questioned, his tone betraying his uncertainty. "Since… you never broke up with me".
As Ben's anger flared, his eyes narrowed dangerously at Jay. He didn't take well to the revelation of your relationship, feeling betrayed that you hadn't mentioned any other man before. That you fucking dated someone while he was gone.
He was about to advance towards Jay, his intent clear in his demeanor, but you sensed the impending danger. With a quick movement, you stepped between them, desperation evident in your pleading gaze as you looked up at Ben.
"Ben, please", you pleaded, your voice trembling with urgency. "Don't do this".
It took a few moments before Ben roughly pulled you out of the elevator by your upper arm, pressed the exit button, and watched as Jay stood in the elevator and the door closed.
Turning towards you, Ben's gaze bore into yours, a mixture of anger, hurt, and frustration evident in his eyes. His jaw clenched even more as he struggled to contain the swirling emotions within him.
"You didn't tell me someone", Ben growled. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me about him?".
You winced at his tight grip, feeling the bruises already forming beneath his fingers. But actually Ben held back for your sake. Usually your arm would be broken by now.
"I-I wanted to, but…", you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you met his intense gaze. "I thought you were dead, Ben. I didn't think I would ever see you again".
"And you moved on that fucking quickly?", he snapped, his grip on your arm tightening momentarily before he released you. "You thought I was dead, so you just found someone else?".
You took a step back, feeling the weight of his words bearing down on you. "No, Ben, it wasn't like that", you protested, your voice tinged with regret as you rubbed your upper arm. "I thought I had lost you forever. I was lost and alone, and Jay was there for me".
His expression twisted with a mixture of disgust and disappointment. The sight of it made your heart clench in anguish.
Ben´s his hands clenching into fists as he watched you with intensity. Even though he didn't want to hear it, he knew he had to confront the question burning in his mind.
"Did he fuck you?", he demanded, his voice low and harsh, his eyes boring into yours with a mixture of fury and hurt.
As you didn’t answer right away, Ben pushed you back against the wall, his frustration boiling over into anger. His voice rose to a yell as he demanded an answer.
"I asked you a fucking question!", he roared, his tone laced with desperation and rage. "Did he fuck you?".
Your heart skipped a beat, torn between fear of Ben's state and your own rising anger. Without thinking, you reacted, lashing out and punching him in the face, the impact breaking your wrist in the process.
"F-fuck, he didn't!", you cried out, your voice trembling with pain and frustration. "Of course he fucking didn't!".
You cradled your injured wrist, wincing as the pain shot through you, a physical reminder of the chaos unfolding between you and Ben.
Ben staggered back, his hand flying to his cheek where you had struck him. Shock flashed across his face, mingling with the anger still burning in his eyes.
"You fucking punched me", he exclaimed, his voice incredulous as he stared at you in disbelief. "Are you out of your fucking mind?".
Despite the pain radiating from your broken wrist, you met his gaze defiantly, your jaw set with determination.
"I'm not going to let you treat me like this", you yelled, your voice quivering with a mixture of pain and anger. "I'm not just some bimbo you can push around whenever you feel like it. And if you ever lay a hand on me again, I swear, I'll fucking leave you!".
Your words hung in the air between you, heavy with the weight of their implications. Despite the intensity of the moment, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness at only the thought of walking away from the man you loved.
Ben pressed his lips together and tried to calm himself down. Losing you was the worst thing that could happen to him. He took a deep, very deep breath, before he placed a hand on your lower back and guided you towards the office kitchen.
You shot him a glare, your eyes flashing with defiance, but he merely rolled his eyes in response.
"Stop bitching around", Ben muttered under his breath, his voice laced with frustration. Despite your attempts to pull away, he maintained a firm grip on your lower back, refusing to let you slip from his grasp.
In the kitchen he fumbled out a bandage from the first aid kit.
"You brought this on yourself, you know", Ben mumbled, his tone tinged with sarcasm as he carefully wrapped the bandage around your throbbing wrist. "Trying to take a swing at me like that. That's the price you pay for trying to hurt the big bad supe".
Despite the pain in your wrist, you couldn't help but roll your eyes at his remark.
After a moment, Ben cupped your cheek, a conflicted expression crossed his face. His gaze softened as he looked into your eyes, a silent apology lingering in the depths of his stare. Despite his pride, he knew deep down that he had overreacted, but his stubbornness prevented him from vocalizing his regret.
For a moment, the tension between you seemed to melt away as you gazed at each other, the weight of unspoken apologies hanging in the air.
As the tension eased between you, Ben leaned in, pressing his lips gently against yours. The kiss was tender, a silent reassurance of his feelings despite the what just had happened.
With a swift motion, Ben lifted you onto the kitchen counter, his hands firmly gripping your ass cheeks as he positioned himself between your legs without breaking the kiss. The intensity of his touch sent shivers down your spine.
Your healthy hand wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, your lips moving in sync with his in a desperate need for connection.
As the kiss deepened, Ben's hands roamed over your body, tracing the curves of your hips and thighs with a possessive urgency.
With each caress, you felt yourself melting into his embrace, your desire for him growing with every passing moment. His lips moved hungrily against yours.
Unable to resist any longer, you arched your back, pressing your body closer to his as the heat between you intensified.
As Ben's lips moved against yours, a low, guttural groan escaped from deep within his chest. "You're mine", he murmured between kisses, his voice rough with desire. "No one else is supposed to touch you like this".
His hands roamed up your thighs, pushing up your skirt roughly as he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter. The urgency in his touch spoke volumes, conveying the depth of his need for you in that moment.
You moaned softly in response, the sensation of his hands on your skin sending shivers down your spine.
As Ben struggled with his supe suit, his hands trembling with need, you steadied yourself on his biceps, your fingers gripping the fabric of his suit.
With careful movements, you avoided putting too much pressure on your injured wrist, mindful of the pain it still caused you. Despite the discomfort, the urgency of the moment spurred you on.
As his belt finally gave way under his fingers, he let out a low growl of satisfaction, his gaze locking with yours as he stepped even closer, the heat of his body radiating against your skin.
With a smirk, Ben pulled out his throbbing dick, his gaze dark with desire as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulling them aside.
"You're always wet for me", he teased, his voice husky with arousal. "I don't even need to check".
His words sent a shiver down your spine, anticipation building as you felt the heat of his breath against your skin.
You couldn't help but voice your concern as Ben positioned himself between your legs, ready to thrust inside you.
"What if someone walks in?", you asked, a hint of worry in your voice.
Ben chuckled, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Let them walk in. I want everyone to see how badly you need me".
His words sent a shiver down your spine as you realized just how possessive and dominant he could be.
As Ben bottomed out with the first rough thrust, a gasp escaped your lips, your breath hitching in response to the sudden, overwhelming pleasure.
His lips curled into a smirk as he felt your body respond to him. "That's it, sweetheart", he murmured. "No one else can make you feel this good, can they? Only me".
As Ben began to move, his thrusts becoming urgent and desperate, you surrendered completely to the pleasure he offered.
Your head fell back, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you surrendered to the sensation of being filled by him once again. The wet sound of your pussy echoed in the room, mixing with the rhythm of his movements as he pushed himself deeper with each thrust.
Every minute without him had felt like an eternity, but now that he was here, buried inside you, you couldn't get enough of him.
Ben's gaze was fixed on you, his intense stare capturing every small movement and reaction as he thrust into you. He was completely focused on the sweet sounds you made with each movement of his hips, savoring every gasp, moan, and whimper that escaped your lips.
With a low growl of satisfaction, he leaned in closer. "You sound so fucking good, sweetheart. I could listen to you all day".
With his words, your body tensed around him, your inner muscles clenching tightly around his throbbing length. The sensation was enough to send Ben over the edge, his own release crashing over him in powerful waves.
With a guttural groan, he spilled himself deep inside you, his hot seed flooding your core as he continued to thrust into you.
Ben collapsed against you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you both savored the intimacy of the moment.
He savored the intoxicating scent of your skin mingled with the faint trace of your perfume. He couldn't help but feel a surge of desire coursing through him. The heady mix of his powerful presence, the tight confines of his supe suit, and the vulnerability he allowed himself to feel in that moment sent another wave of heat straight to your core.
You couldn't suppress a gasp as you felt the familiar throbbing sensation between your legs, your body responding instinctively to his proximity. Ben groaned softly against your skin, his breath hot against your neck as he too felt the undeniable pull of desire.
Lost in the moment, you pressed yourself closer to him, craving the feel of his strong arms around you and the electric connection between your bodies.
Ben carefully pulled out of you, his movements deliberate as he made sure none of his seed spilled. With practiced ease, he helped you adjust your clothing, pulling your panties back up your body.
"There", he murmured, his voice laced with a mixture of satisfaction and tenderness. "All taken care of".
“Keep it inside”, Ben ordered.
You raised an eyebrow at him, a hint of amusement dancing in your eyes. "Again?".
Ben chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned in closer. "Yes, again”, he whispered huskily. "It turns me on knowing you're filled with me".
You couldn't help but blush at his boldness, feeling a surge of arousal at his words.
You hesitated for a moment, the thought of Ben's cum still inside you was both thrilling and slightly nerve-wracking. But the intensity of his gaze and the desire evident in his voice left you unable to resist.
"Keep it inside until tonight", he mumbled, his voice commanding yet tinged with a hint of anticipation. "I want you to sit through the meeting with me, knowing that my cum is creaming your sweet little pussy".
You swallowed hard but nodded.
After a few minutes of making sure you can stand on your own feet again, Ben made his way downstairs, his presence commanded attention, and the heads of departments from Vought fell into line, their expressions a mixture of surprise and apprehension. Standing before them, Ben wasted no time asserting his authority, making it clear that he was the one in charge now.
"I'm calling the shots from now on", he declared firmly, his voice carrying authority as he addressed the assembled group. "Any orders come from me, and you follow them without fucking question. Understood?".
His words left no room for dissent, and the heads of departments nodded in acknowledgment, knowing better than to defy Soldier Boy.
With his position as the new leader firmly established, Ben wasted no time in outlining his expectations and directives for the future of Vought. He laid out plans for expansion, innovation, and increased profitability, his vision for the company clear and ambitious.
As the meeting progressed, Ben's confidence and decisiveness left a strong impression on those in attendance. Despite initial skepticism, many began to see the potential for growth and success under his leadership.
after what felt like an eternity, Ben entered his office , his eyes locked onto you sitting on the couch, a mixture of pride and possessiveness evident in his gaze. He made his way over to you.
"You look good there", he remarked. "That's where you belong, by my side".
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his slightly misogynistic comment, but a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips nonetheless.
Ben reached out to gently pull you to your feet, being careful of your injured wrist.
"Everything went according to plan", he mumbled. "I made it clear who's in charge now".
You nodded, relieved to hear that everything went smoothly. "That's good to hear", you said, a sense of pride in your voice.
Ben pulled you close against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, he began to pepper kisses along your neck.
"You know", he murmured teasingly against your skin, "you're getting fucked by the strongest and mightiest being on the planet".
You couldn't help but chuckle at his teasing tone, a playful glint in your eyes as you tilted your head to give him better access to your neck.
"And here I thought I was just getting fucked by an arrogant, egotistical supe on coke", you teased back, a smirk playing on your lips.
Ben let out a low growl, his grip tightening around you as he nipped lightly at your skin. "Watch your mouth, sweetheart", he warned, his voice husky with desire. "Or I might have to remind you who's really in fucking charge here".
"Ooh, I'm scared", you mocked. "What are you gonna do? Spank me?".
Ben's lips curled into a wicked grin, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. "Maybe I will", he murmured, his voice low and seductive.
Your heart raced at the promise in his words, a thrill of anticipation coursing through you as you pressed closer to him, eager for whatever he had in store.
Ben's gloved fingers slipped under your skirt and into your panties. You gasped at the sudden sensation.
"You're really eager to check, aren't you?", you teased, a smirk playing on your lips as you met his heated gaze. "Can't get enough of your own handiwork?".
Ben chuckled as he traced his fingers along the delicate folds of your pussy. "I just want to make sure you're still full of me", he murmured. "And if not, I'll just have to fill you up again".
With a sly grin, Ben brought his hand back from beneath your skirt, his middle finger glistening with a mixture of his and your cum. Holding it up to your lips, he teased you with the intoxicating scent, his gaze smoldering with desire.
"Open up", he commanded softly, his voice thick with arousal as he watched you intently.
Your heart raced as you obediently parted your lips, welcoming his finger inside your mouth. The taste of your combined essence flooded your senses, igniting a fiery hunger within you as you sucked his finger greedily.
Ben's smirk deepened as he watched your eager response, his own desire mounting with each passing moment. With a satisfied hum, he slowly withdrew his finger from your mouth, his eyes dark with lust as he gazed down at you.
"Look what you do to me", Ben commanded. His hand guided yours towards the prominent bulge beneath his suit.
Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the undeniable evidence of his arousal pressing against the fabric, the heat of his desire palpable against your hand. With a mixture of excitement and anticipation, you eagerly traced the contours of his bulge, reveling in the power you held over him.
Ben's grip tightened on your hand as he watched you. "You like that, don't you?", he murmured. "You like knowing how much you turn me on".
You could only nod in response, your own desire mounting with each passing second. With a hungry growl, Ben captured your lips in a searing kiss, his need for you burning hotter than before.
With the sound of footsteps approaching, Ben reluctantly pulled away from you, his lips lingering for a moment before he stepped back, adjusting his supe suit.
"I would love to continue this", he murmured, "but business is calling".
You nodded softly, your own pulse still racing with excitement. As Butcher and the rest of the team entered the room, Ben straightened, his demeanor shifting back to his authoritative self.
Butcher's sarcastic tone cut through the tension in the room as he asked, "So, you two bloody lovebirds ready?".
Annie's gaze shifted between you and Ben, her expression unreadable. You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure as you followed Ben towards the office of the Seven.
As Ben pulled back the chair for you, he gestured for you to take a seat at the head of the table. Meanwhile, he positioned himself slightly behind you, standing in front of the window.
"Alright, listen up", Ben began, his voice commanding attention. "Here's the plan: you lot are the new Seven. Not because I like you, but because I need to keep you under fucking control".
His words were firm as he laid out his intentions for the future of the team.
Butcher's expression hardened as he crossed his arms, clearly not thrilled with Ben's plan. "And why the bloody hell should we listen to you?", he challenged, his tone defiant.
Ben's jaw tightened as he met Butcher's gaze head-on. "Because if you don't, you'll regret it", he replied firmly. "And I'm not asking for your fucking approval, Butcher. I'm telling you how it's going to be".
A-Train spoke up, his voice tinged with skepticism. "And what if we don't fall in line?", he asked, his tone challenging.
Ben's lips curled into a smirk, his gaze shifting to A-Train with an air of superiority. "Oh, you think I'll kill you if you don't?", he retorted. "No, A-Train. I won't kill you. But I'll make your life a living hell until you wish you were fucking dead".
Fortunately, no one made any major moves. Probably because no one wanted to escalate the situation. At least not at this moment
Ben dismissed the team and they filed out of the room, he turned to you with a determined look in his eyes.
He reached out, gently cupping your cheek in his gloved hand, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the intensity of the moment.
"I need to make some preparations for tonight", he said. "Will you be okay here on your own for a while?".
You nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. "Of course, Ben. I'll be fine. Just take care of what you need to do".
Ben's lips curved into a faint smile at your reassurance. "Good", he murmured, his gaze softening as he looked into your eyes. "After all this, I have a little surprise for you".
Your eyebrows lifted in curiosity at his words, a hint of excitement bubbling within you. "A surprise?", you echoed, unable to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
Ben leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before pulling away. "Yeah", he replied cryptically, his voice tinged with anticipation. "But you'll have to wait and see".
With that, he turned and left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the promise of something special to come.
Two hours later, amidst a throng of flashing cameras and eager reporters, Ben stood tall and confident as he addressed the gathered media.
"I am pleased to announce that I have taken over Vought Industries", he declared, his voice projecting authority and assurance. "I am committed to working closely with the government to ensure the safety and well-being of our citizens, and to restore trust in our heroes".
The reporters clamored to ask questions, but Ben remained composed, his answers measured and deliberate as he outlined his vision for the future of Vought and its role in society.
As the press conference came to a close, Ben stepped away from the podium, a sense of accomplishment evident in his demeanor. He knew that this was just the beginning.
Despite the limited number of questions he answered, the media seemed satisfied with Ben's brief appearance and his vague yet promising statements. After all, as Soldier Boy, he wasn't an unknown figure, and his sudden rise to power at Vought was sure to generate headlines and speculation for days to come.
As you wandered through the top floor of Vought, your thoughts swirled with the events of the past year, from the tumultuous ups and downs to the unexpected twists and turns. Lost in contemplation, you were startled when Ben suddenly appeared before you.
"Hey", Ben murmured softly as he closed the distance between you, his warm smile melting away the tension that had built up within you. "There you are".
His voice held a hint of relief, as if seeing you had eased some invisible burden from his shoulders.
"Are you ready to head out?", Ben inquired, his gaze lingering on yours as he awaited your response.
You nodded softly.
As Ben placed his hand on your lower back and guided you towards the elevators, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and security in his presence.
As Ben drove out of the city after getting some takeaway, you couldn't help but feel curious about your destination.
"Where are we going?", you asked, your voice betraying your fatigue.
Ben grinned mischievously. "I told you it´s a surprise", he replied, his eyes twinkling with excitement.
You sighed, leaning back in your seat. "I hope it's worth the mystery".
"Trust me, it'll be worth it", Ben assured you, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.
As Ben parked the car in front of a cozy house surrounded by beautiful nature, you couldn't help but feel a sense of tranquility wash over you.
"Is this… where we're staying?", you asked, a hint of surprise in your voice.
Ben nodded, a pleased smile spreading across his face. "Yep, this is it", he replied, his eyes scanning the surroundings with contentment.
You glanced around, taking in the peaceful scenery. "It's beautiful", you remarked, feeling a sense of relaxation settle over you.
Ben grinned. "I'm glad you like it", he said, his voice soft with affection.
With a smile, you leaned over to give him a quick kiss before stepping out of the car, excited to explore your temporary retreat in the midst of nature.
With the takeaway food in hand, you followed Ben to the front door. He turned the key and pushed the door open, ushering you inside.
As you stepped into the cozy interior, you glanced around, taking in the warm and inviting atmosphere of the house. The soft glow of the lamps cast a comforting light over the living room, and you noticed a crackling fireplace in the corner, filling the space with a cozy ambiance.
“This place is amazing”, you remarked, a smile playing at your lips as you set the food down on the nearby table.
Ben´s grin widend, pleased by your reaction. “Fucking glad you think so”, he replied, closing the door behind you.
As Ben rubbed his neck nervously, he took a deep breath before speaking. "Cause… I actually bought this place", he confessed, his gaze flickering to yours.
Your eyes widened in astonishment, and for a moment, you were rendered speechless by his revelation.
Sensing your surprise, Ben hesitated, his nerves palpable as he continued. "I know it's sudden, but… I was thinking, maybe you'd like to… stay here with me?", he asked tentatively, his words hanging in the air as he awaited your response.
Ben was nervous. Fucking nervous. You've never seen him like this before.
You cleared your throat, feeling the weight of his question hanging in the air. Hesitantly, you met his gaze and quietly asked, "Are you asking me to move in with you?".
Ben's heart raced, his vulnerability making him feel somewhat exposed. He took a deep breath before meeting your eyes again. "I just want to know you're safe, that's all".
As Ben's words sank in, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth in your chest, but at the same time, a twinge of disappointment lingered. Despite all you've been through together, he still hadn't asked you to be his girlfriend or shown any clear commitment.
Biting your lip, you tried to hide the subtle sadness that crept into your expression, unsure of how to respond.
"I appreciate that, Ben", you said softly, forcing a small smile despite the conflicting emotions swirling inside you. "And I feel safe with you too. But…", you trailed off, unable to find the right words to express your thoughts.
As Ben sensed your sadness, he stepped closer and placed both of his hands on your lower back, pulling you gently towards him.
"But what?", he asked softly, his gaze searching yours with concern.
Ben's heart raced with apprehension, his usual confidence faltering in the face of vulnerability. He feared your rejection, uncertain of how to navigate this unfamiliar territory.
As tears welled up in your eyes, Ben's heart clenched with regret. This wasn't how he envisioned this moment. He had hoped that buying the house for the two of you would bring you joy, not tears.
With gentle hands, Ben lifted your chin, his touch tender as he looked into your eyes, searching for answers.
"Baby, what's wrong?", he asked. "Talk to me".
With a hesitant breath, you finally voiced the question that had been weighing on your mind for months.
"Where do we stand, Ben?", you whispered softly, your voice barely audible as you searched his eyes for an answer.
Ben's heart raced faster, his mind scrambling for the right words to say. He wasn't prepared for this conversation, not ready to confront his own feelings and desires.
"I don't know", he finally admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he looked into your eyes. "I care about you, more than I can put into words. But I'm not sure where we stand".
Feeling your heart shatter, more tears gathered in your eyes. With trembling hands, you pulled back from Ben's touch. The uncertainty in his words cut deeper than you expected, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed.
"I understand", you whispered, your voice barely audible as you fought to keep your emotions in check. "I… I need some time to… to think".
Your words hung heavy in the air, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you as you grappled with the uncertainty of your relationship.
Ben sighed heavily, his hand reaching out to gently grasp your arm. "Please", he said softly, his voice tinged with desperation. "Let me explain".
But you couldn't bear the thought of more uncertainty, the hurt too raw and overwhelming. Pulling away from his touch, you shook your head, unable to find the words to express the depth of your pain.
"No. I… I need to be alone right now", you mumbled, turning towards the door to leave.
You told him you loved him and he just couldn't bring himself to tell you how he felt about you. After all, he was the first man you had confessed your feelings to. You just felt so stupid. Maybe he just didn't love you the way you loved him?
Ben sighed again, his heart heavy with regret as he watched your tears fall. "Let me at least drive you to the next hotel. I can't stand the thought of leaving you like this".
You hesitated, torn between your desire to be with Ben and your need for clarity in your relationship. Finally, you nodded reluctantly, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand.
"Okay", you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "Take me to the hotel".
With a heavy heart, Ben led you back to the car, his mind consumed with thoughts of how he could make things right with you.
He knew that if he forced you to stay with him at that moment, he would only hurt you more. If there's one thing he's learned by now, it's to let you go your own way every now and then and not force yours on you. Even if every fiber of his body resisted. Even though he hated not having you around.
As Ben parked the car in front of the hotel, he turned to you, his eyes reflecting the turmoil in his heart. Without saying a word, he reached out, taking your hand in his.
"You won't leave me, will you?", he asked, his voice filled with vulnerability. The fear of losing you weighed heavily on him, and he couldn't bear the thought of being without you forever.
Feeling the weight of your silence, Ben watched helplessly as you stepped out of the car without another word. He clenched his fists, his mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions, but he knew better than to push you further. With a heavy heart, he remained in the car, allowing you the space you needed.
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A/N: ._. down we go. Please let me know what you think.🥰
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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee
#jensen ackles#soldier boy#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy x y/n#the boys#billy butcher#smut
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Lost in the Dark (Part 3)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: Dark content! Somnophilia, Non/DubCon, and other dark elements. This fic contains dark themes and may include potentially triggering topics. You are solely responsible for your media consumption.
Summary: Bucky comes home after a mission and can’t wait to be with you.
A/N: Special thanks to my beta reader @whisperlullaby
Denial, anger, bargaining, depression. You had been through each of these stages of grief multiple times in varying orders. Facing away from Bucky on the edge of the bed, you went over the last few months in your head. Nothing you did fazed him. He remained steadfast, calm, and loving. There was only one stage left, acceptance. Your last resort was to accept your fate and try to gain his trust. Maybe you could escape before Stockholm Syndrome took hold. If you could convince him to trust you maybe there would come a moment when you could slip away.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, you turn over in the bed and cuddle up to his side. His arm instantly went around you. Laying your head on his shoulder, your hand resting on his chest, you forced yourself to relax.
"Are you cold?" Bucky whispers. You can feel the tension in him at your unexpected touch.
"No, I'm just..." you were about to say you just wanted to be near him but it was a lie and he'd know. So, you told him the truth, at least in part, "I'm trying, Bucky. This is hard. It's not what I thought my life would be."
"I know, doll. I just can't lose you. I need to know you're here and safe," Bucky says as he kisses the top of your head.
"I understand," you whisper. You didn't, you didn't at all. You had been his from the first time he'd asked you out. You were head over heels for him, then. That life, that world seemed like a distant dream. The longer you were with him, the more you felt disconnected. You supposed that's what wore people in your situation down, what made them succumb to acceptance of this reality. Tears leaked from your eyes despite fighting to hold them in. You just wanted to go home.
"It's okay, doll. Don't cry. I'm gonna keep you safe," Bucky says as he gently wipes away a tear.
"Was I not safe before?" Your voice is strained.
"No one around me is safe. I'm sorry I put you in danger but I love you. I had to be with you and so now I have to protect you. I'm sorry I was so selfish. I need you. I love you so much, doll. I'll make you happy, I will. You just have to trust me. Can you try? Just try for me, doll?" Bucky says earnestly.
You pause for a moment, thinking through your next move, "I'll try if you'll make me one promise. I need you to promise not to drug me again. I don't like it. It scares me."
Bucky thinks for a moment before tipping your chin up to look him in the eyes, "I promise.”
“Really?” You look into his eyes searchingly.
“I promise, doll,” he whispers earnestly.
As you look at him, you remember the man you had fallen for before all of this. His beautiful blue eyes seem to beg for you to believe him. Slowly, you inch your face closer to his. He holds his breath as he studies you, hope blooming in his chest. He fought the urge to pull you to him, letting you take the lead was important in this moment. Not daring to move a muscle, he watches enraptured as you bring you close the distance. Your eyes glance down at his mouth and then your lips press to his. You give him one small kiss before pulling back to look in his eyes again.
Bucky stares back at you, lips slightly parted, eyes full of awe, hoping, praying you’d kiss him again. It had been so long since you had kissed him back, since you’d even looked him in the eyes. He was desperate for your touch.
You were just desperate. So you kissed him again, this time twining your tongue with his. He still gave you the lead, his participation passive, and so you rolled on top of him. Bucky’s hands flexed, wanting to reach out for you, but he gripped the sheets under him to stop himself. His heart was beating hard and he felt light-headed. His cock was incredibly hard just from being gifted your touch. He wanted to roll you under him and bury it in your sweet heat but he stayed still, allowing you to be in control.
When he felt your feather-light touch on his cock, he shuddered. He couldn’t believe this was real. Had you finally come back to him? Did you finally understand that he was just trying to keep you safe? His mind didn’t have long to consider these questions as you straddled him. Positioning his cock at your entrance, you slowly sink down on him. It was the first time in months that you had felt some modicum of enjoyment during sex, that you were choosing it of your own free will. You feel him trembling beneath you and you break your kiss to ask, “Are you okay?”
“Yes, please don’t stop.” His voice sounds almost panicked.
“Don’t stop this?” You tease, sitting up and flexing your hips.
“Don’t, don’t stop,” he whimpers with his head thrown back.
Bucky is in absolute ecstasy. His cock twitches inside of you with each movement you make. His metal arm whirs as he clenches and unclenches his fists, nearly ripping the sheets. You realize what he’s doing. He’s giving you the power in this. It tugs at your heart a little. He really does care for you. Haltingly, you whisper, “B-Bucky, you can touch me.”
You expected him to grab you, to take over and do with you as he pleased as he had always done. Instead, he looks up at you with love and a hint of apprehension. Slowly, he sits up, staring into your eyes and gently puts his arms around your waist. He presses your bodies together softly and buries his face in your neck. You wrap your arms around him in response and make slow circles with your hips. You stay like that for a long time, just holding each other and enjoying the gentle movement of your bodies. You begin to tremble and clench around his cock as you come, milking him of his orgasm. Still, you stayed wrapped in each other.
“I thought I’d never feel you like this again, doll,” Bucky whispers against your skin. “I love you so much. I’ll never let you go, I promise. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” you murmur in his ear. You stare at the chain that still connects you to the bed. The next step was convincing him to let you off your leash. To do that, you’d tell him anything, even that you love him.
Part 4?
Updates and taglist: Due to the unreliable nature of tags, I no longer keep a taglist. Updates for series will be made on Sundays Central Time Zone. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction and turn on notifications for updates. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!
#bucky barnes#bucky#marvel#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x reader#avengers#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes x you#captain america#dark bucky x reader#dark bucky barnes#dark bucky smut#dark bucky x you#lost in the dark#bucky fic#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes drabble#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagines#bucky barnes imagine#dark content
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In Sickness and Sadism
Not fluff, not angst, but a secret third thing... (it's Feitan from HxH, what can I say)
Feitan Portor x gn!reader with chronic illness
You can't afford your medicine. Feitan won't accept that!
Warnings: cussing, breaking of human bones, mentions of other violence (not toward reader)
"What do you mean the price went up that much?"
You were incredulous. You had been frequenting the same pharmacy in your home town since you could remember and the price for medicine had always been consistent. That's what you liked about shopping there--the owner didn't price gouge like they did in every other store. Now, you didn't know what to do. You needed to buy the damn medicine or else you would be miserable, or probably even dead. It already wasn't easy having to deal with a chronic illness and now you had to face the fact that you definitely didn't have enough money to buy something you needed to live.
"That's just how much it is now, don't cry to me about it," sneered the cashier and you felt your anger bubble up at his lack of empathy. Your life was terribly unfair and you wanted to scream, cry, and punch the smirk off the cashier in that order.
"Please, can I talk to Mr. Greck, the owner, about this? I've been coming here for years, maybe he can get me a discount," you pleaded, but the cashier just laughed at you.
"The owner has a job from which he needs to make money. Not that you would know what it's like to have money in the first place. So no, you can't waste his time begging like the poor person you are. Now get out or I'll throw you out."
You glared at him, hoping he was bluffing, but he seemed the type to follow through with hurting someone like you and you knew your body couldn't take the exhaustion, especially if you were going to be off your medicine for a while. You needed to make sure you were in good condition to work every day of the week, plus overtime, to make enough to buy your month's supply. Feeling defeated and upset, you left the building, tears falling freely.
Feitan prided himself on his distinct lack of empathy. He relished in the fact that the pain of others makes him feel warm inside. There was no better symphony of sounds than people crying and screaming for their pain to stop.
So why the fuck was he finding himself so outraged at some random person's medical predicament?
The raven haired man had stopped in to a local pharmacy to pick up (ahem... steal) some supplies for the Troupe in case anyone managed to get hurt on the latest mission. He wasn't paying attention to his surroundings for the first few minutes of his shopping spree, completely uncaring to someone else's woes of the fragility of the human body. All of a sudden, after stuffing the last roll of gauze in his sleeve, his ears perked up to listen in to the conversation happening at the front register.
"What do you mean the price went up that much?"
His eyebrows furrowed. Not that he cared, because he wasn't paying for any of his things anyway, but he did notice that the price tags here for items displayed significantly lower numbers than previous pharmacies he had visited in other areas around. You had affirmed his findings in your conversation with the cashier and Feitan felt his blood boiling at the brash rudeness coming from the cashier's mouth. Who did that scum think he was, speaking like that to someone for no reason? Feitan certainly wasn't the nicest guy around but even he had the decency to not be a total jerk to random strangers, let alone people in distress about their medical and financial woes. He didn't know why he was giving this ordeal the time of day. Maybe it was because of his upbringing? He saw this type of thing daily in Meteor City. Hell, he lived it himself. There was nothing scarier than seeing a totally healthy person decay rapidly and shrivel into nothingness, all because they were born in unfortunate circumstances. He scoffed when he saw you leaving in tears. Why didn't you just use your brain and brawn and steal it? Were you too weak? He saw your fists clenching earlier and figured you were strong enough to take down that slime ball. If you did end up getting your ass kicked, at least you didn't lie down like a dog and take it, like you were doing now. His eyes followed your frame until you left the building and he watched until your silhouette was no longer visible outside. He didn't know why he was doing this. He wasn't supposed to make a big scene whenever he was out and about, but the events were already set into motion before he could stop himself.
"5 month supply of whatever that person needed." Feitan ordered, pointing to the boxes behind the cashier's head.
The cashier just laughed at him. "You too, huh? What are you, their boyfriend or somethin'? Maybe their kid? Scrawny little thing."
Oh, he'll wish he never had a tongue to speak those words.
Feitan kept his cool, procuring a velvet bag from his person and set it on the counter with a clank emitting from the contents of inside. "I have money."
The cashier's mouth opened in a greedy smile. He quickly retrieved the 5 month supply Feitan requested and put it in a bag.
"That'll be 100,000 Jenny."
Feitan smirked under his cowl. He reached into the bag, seemingly to pull out money, but instead of coins, the cashier's outstretched hand was met with a mini hammer. The sickening crunch of bones could be heard as the man howled in pain.
"Oh? Big man can't handle small hammer?" Feitan taunted, his eyes crinkled in delight at the man's suffering. The cashier tried to reach for a gun he had stashed behind the counter but Feitan was much too fast, grabbing his wrist and turning his arm the wrong way so that, too, was broken. The cashier couldn't get a word out, instead crying out with tears running down his face.
"Don't cry to me about it." Feitan mocked the worker by using his own words against him. The shorter man hummed a bit, thinking of what to do next. He needed to finish up quickly or else he'd lose track of you and end up having done this all for nothing.
Well, this wasn't all for nothing either way. He needs to make sure he practices his methods often so he doesn't lose his edge.
Feitan grabbed the bag containing the medicine and cleaned up his own bag of tools while the cashier was lying on the floor, writhing in pain and ready to pass out. He gave him a strong kick before turning toward the door.
"Good luck getting all that fixed at a hospital. If you can afford it."
You were walking down the street, dejected and unsure of what to do when you felt a nauseating presence appear behind you. You turned around to face a short man with a skull face covering offering you a bag. Naturally, you were hesitant to take it, but he nudged it to you again.
"Medicine. For you."
Your eyes widened in surprise. Did you hear the soft spoken man correctly? You tore open the bag and saw multitudes of your medicine within.
"5 months. Go get better job or learn to steal."
You went to thank him but he was already gone, disappearing like a ghost. You were thoroughly confused but at the same time, extremely grateful. You stood on the street corner in a daze until the sound of screaming could be heard somewhere close to you.
"Someone please help! This cashier's been seriously injured!"
You whipped around to see a woman running out from... the pharmacy? What exactly had that man done to get you what you needed? You were ready to run away from the scene so you weren't questioned as a suspect when you caught a glimpse of your savior once more, watching you like a hawk from the rooftop of the building next to you. He put his finger to where his lips resided under his mask, a signal to stay quiet about what happened, as he let out a short maniacal laugh and disappeared from your sight.
Feitan finally realized why he decided to help you that one day. There were many people in this world he'd gladly see rot to death and then rot even further after that.
But not you.
No, you were much too attractive to be a corpse so soon.
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Literally the ONLY way I’ll accept Buck’s final scene in Cursed is that he goes into the room and is about to jerk, but he is so exhausted from running he just passes out in the chair and never gets it done.
#911#911 fox#911 on fox#911 spoilers#911 s6#911 s6 spoilers#911 6a#911 cursed#evan buckley#evan buck buckely#911 buck#you cannot tell me that he didn't pass out in that room#my boy ran a thousand miles to this clinic and you expect me to believe he has the energy to c*m in a cup?#yeahhh I dont believe it#maybe this is me just not wanting to accept that he went through with it#especially when kameron and connor literally ambush him at his place of work#and proceeded to have him unknowingly out himself as a sperm donor to his entire team#call me petty#but it I was him I would feel some type of way#and really fucking embarrassed and pissed#honestly he's a better person than me#because that alone would make me drop the donor thing like that#buck deserves better#evan buckley deserves better#somebody save this man#please let this donor thing fail#free buck 2022
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Ok so. Miles Edgeworth is trans. Gregory was definitely a trans affirming father so when Miles told him he was like “sure son. What name do you want to go by?”
And so all Manfred von Karma knew was that Gregory Edgeworth had a son. When he gains custody of Miles, he just. Does not realize that the kid he’s now in charge of is a trans boy. (Maybe Miles already had a name change. Idk. Somehow legal name wise, von Karma just. Does Not realize.)
So Miles grows up being raised as a boy and von Karma just. Doesn’t realize. Until puberty begins.
And he notices something, that Miles isn’t experiencing puberty the way he would have expected and he’s like hmmm. I am not sure what is happening.
And then like preteen Miles, incredibly nervous, comes to him and he’s like, “excuse me, Mr. von Karma, sir, but would I be able to start puberty blockers please?”
And von Karma’s just like “WHAT!”
He’s so caught off guard and so used to thinking of Miles as “Gregory Edgeworth’s pathetic son” that he just… kinda lets Miles medically transition bc he’s so caught off guard by the realization.
And for his entire life, Miles is like. Unable to wrap his head around von Karma being surprisingly trans accepting???
#especially because von karma was decidedly NOT accepting of the fact that miles is gay#for the rest of miles’ life he is forever confused about this. and he never realizes that von karma just. didn’t know he adopted a trans kid#in my headcanon franziska is also trans and basically i think that like. von karma was so shooketh by having one trans kid in the house#that he was like. I. I. I don’t know what to do#and also Franziska would TOTALLY weaponize the fact that miles had transitioned without comment#‘why does miles edgeworth get to but I don’t??’#also also. Manfred von karma probably has some toxic ideas about what it means to be a man. that were definitely taken to heart by miles#especially bc he wanted to prove himself as being ‘valid’ in the eyes of bin karma#I like to think that as he let go of the other ideas von karma taught him he also let go of this ideal and let himself embrace#less ‘traditionally manly’ things#this is the ‘not traditionally masculine transmasc’ in me coming through#I feel like that’s such a specific thing to work through when it comes to reconciling masculinity ESPECIALLY if you’re someone who’s#felt like they’ve had to fight to be accepted for it#wow. that got actually serious on my stupid lil post.#anyway miles as of chief prosecutor wear jewelry and makeup and maybe sometimes skirts#also fun like trans kid headcanon: Phoenix comes out during the year he miles and Larry were best friends and his mom went to Gregory#for advice about how to support your trans son :)#ace attorney#miles edgeworth#phoenix wright ace attorney#manfred von karma#trans miles edgeworth#miles edgeworth is trans dammit#and so is Phoenix Wright#Phoenix Wright#mention#gregory edgeworth#franziska von karma#tw transphobia#like. Hinted but tagging just in case
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you know if we do accept the last epilogue-esque sequence as a sort of dream/wish of ted's and therefore not necessarily canon, very funny if we then simply go "yeah, trent's book is called 'the lasso way' actually. he didn't change that. nope."
#listen on one hand#i think that like#i don't think ted actually changed trent's mind about the title#i think trent changed it because ted asked him to#and like that's especially interesting bc he even made a point of being like#'tell me if you disagree with anything and i'll tell you why you're wrong'#but he respects ted; more than that he likes him and he wants him to like the book--like him#anyone else and trent would have told them to fuck off but ted? ted asking him to change the title? yeah#i think he didn't agree with 'it not being about him'--and not bc of any feelings he may have for ted--but if we accept that him changing#the title is canon then like. he did it because ted asked. nothing more nothing less#maybe he felt he owed it to ted as the subject of the book; maybe he just respected him too much not to#maybe it's partially bc of his feelings; maybe it's because he just couldn't say no to ted#but it's ultimately just. because ted asked him.#and trent respects him; trusts him; cares about him#and that's pretty heartwrenching#but like on the other hand if we say 'no that was ted's wishufl thinking trent definitely went 'sorry ted it's called the lasso way''#also like.... him being like. like quietly not changing it and if ted said something him just. being like#ted. i respect you. i care about you. i trust you. but with all due respect absolutely not#yes it isn't ONLY about you but YOU made this happen. YOU are special and YOU have a place here whether you can stay forever or not#yes it's about the team and the coaches yes you aren't a one man band but ted. TED. you touched lives. you changed lives. and that was YOU.#that was you and your philosophy and your attitude.#you made richmond what it is today. yes the team deserve credit too for the kind of bond they have now but YOU facilitated that#none of the coaches currently here woudl be coaches if not for you. the diamond dogs wouldn't exist. literally every single one#of our friends--OUR friends--wouldn't be where they are and probably wouldn't be as happy#you got through to people over and over again who were hurting and lashing out. to rebecca. to roy. to jamie. to nate. to me.#and you can be humble but there's being humble and there's acting like you don't matter to any of us like you didn't have an impact#like you can just leave without a trace. we don't blame you for leaving--i especially don't--but acting like we won't miss you and like#your time with all of us--our time--meant nothing is more insulting than it is humble because we /love you/#and yes. it was the goddamn lasso way that built this place#this community.
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lyney's character story about his vision revealing arlecchino didn't allow him to use a delusion and was genuinely angry that he would do something lynette wouldn't want for him, encouraging him to find other solutions... the way she was also sad lyney didn't feel comfortable relying on her during the quest... she really cares about the kids. her smile while speaking to furina also looked sincere. even though one can debate if this is all an act to make them trust and be loyal to her (as said by her, "good actors hone their craft to mesmerise the whole crowd") or acknowledge the fact she's using the kids by making them part of the fatui, she genuinely seems to cherish them. at least she goes through lengths that aren't really necessary for her not to care. the way she reformed the orphanage, the way she helped freminet get closure on his mother's fate... i just think it goes to show and confirm once more how biased everything/everyone in the game is. sometimes bordering unreliable, really. scara and childe's lines about her paint her in a certain light, which i'm not saying isn't true quite the opposite, but that persona seems to coexists with the version the kids from the house of the hearth know.
#her friendly proposal to the traveler also seemed genuine even if she has other interests in mind#maybe we will be surprised in the future i don't know but her vibe is really different from someone like dottore#she is cordial and diplomatic which automatically means she's cunning and probably good at manipulating people but she also seems genuine#and empathetic and her debate with furina only comes to show how smart she is... she seemed righteous?!#i'm really curious to find out more about her motivations why she became an harbinger and so on#she seems extremely loyal to the tsaritsa#the tsaritsa also seems so cool i loved that she was described in such a regal way for some reason#shnezenaya is gonna be such a cool area#anyways daily arlecchino rant because obsessed with her#on another note lyney's story was very emotional him and lynette really went through a lot#knowing they probably wouldn't be 'here' if only the gods hadn't blessed lyney is so :')#they really would go to the end of the world for each other#also for freminet despite not being blood related they really are each others family#sobbing i love them#lyneys voice lines always make me sad he just wants to be seen and accepted#i want to hug him 😭
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Ep. 2
This guy has a straight face but his personality and thought process definitely fucking balls
#or maybe he's narcissistic#imagine if she's fr just rejecting him no acting involved#he's hellbent on proving that there were real signs of her accepting just for his motive#my guy what is this behaviour#buti na lang may sense si secretary 🤩#or maybe mahirap lang marealise yung mga ganitong bagay pag sayo na nangyayari?? idk#SLAYY#jowa niya si Minwoo???#pustahan the officemates would end up dating#the idea of a ceo running through his company building 😭#i too want to work in these high end buildings#or maybe just visit i know they can get miserable lmao#yung secretary na magmmanage ng reputation niya lmaoo#ik i def wouldve fallen in love with her too but he's pretty weird#also hair nets#I feel bad for the girl that gave thr gift 😭😭#he's so resolved that she's the fake Jin Yeongseo bc Hari seemed more like the spoiled brat heiress than her#also i get why he didnt question a company worker looking exactly like his blind date#her hair was pink in the webtoon when she went on the blind date so yeah LMAO#he's fucking furious bro 💀 'bring her to me first' aight#I LOVE HOW IN THE FLASHBACK OF THE DRAWING SCENE WE SAW FROM HIS POV INSTEAD OF THE OG SCENE HHH#i love them sm#i find it cute that the pres(?) is cleaning the sec's house anf him w/o the coat? the waistline? holding that broom? im kneeling sir#also youre not at an office setting drop the ceo tone#i love all the characters talaga and nasa ep 2 pa lang ako 😭😭#learning and experiencing really makes you see things different#most of his lines aren't endearing at all 😭#yeongseo tricking her 💀#im glad the grandfather doesnt seem stuck up i feel like he'll root for whoever ceo chooses since yk his wish for a family and the pork cls#ahhh idk what to think of ceo honestly men confuse me
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like anne rice could be such good writer if she just wrote with compassion and empathy for her characters. There was this "baby Jenks" character from the beginning of the queen of the damned and her story was so afforded so much genuine love and compassion it was literally my favourite part of the first part of the book. Baby Jenks' story reminded me of some of the best Sandman one-off characters' story tbh, it was that good. Wish Anne Rice always write with so much love and compassion though. Anyways, It's no wonder, tbh, that Baby Jenks character is actually Claudia (lestat wept for that girl because he was weeping for Claudia from his life, pretty sure at this point Anne Rice consciously projects her own motherhood onto him). maybe at that point in anne rice's life, she has heard enough about things like re-incarnation and all the better places one can go to after death that all that stuff is allowing her to started to make peace with the tragic death of her late daughter?? but i wonder if she ever got to walk out of her grief? cause idk? she kept writing vampire books??? to the end of her life???
like it's honestly such a mess that she wrote IWTV in response to the very tragic death of her daughter. I have to be honest, i cannot begin to imagine just how painful it is to go through something that traumatic, but i also felt like writing a psychosexual gothic horror vampire story is not exactly therapeutic either. It's kind of funny that it takes getting into the vampire chronicles for me to truly understand what vampires really are. But i do, finally. Vampires are not weird fantastical creatures, they are not Death itself, and they are certainly not Life Everlasting. Vampires, like ghosts, are simply a spiritual embodiment of the very rejection of Death. They are very effective device to examine the human condition, because we as human beings all fundamentally reject the inevitability of death and obliteration of the self we currently possess. We inherently fear change, fear loss, the changefulness of life, and the annihilation of self. Vampires embody a certain state of mind that's frankly universal in humans. But I don't think Anne Rice always wrote her vampire chronicles knowing vampires are??? if she ever knew??? Definitely not at the beginning though, when Louis was definitely just her self-insert and he brought Claudia to live with a theatre of vampires and they live happily ever after. I mean, midnight mass really got the Point when it says "the only way to achieve True Immortality is to accept and embrace death, and because vampirism is inherently about rejecting death, it will NEVER be life everlasting". Honestly the only reason that motivated me to read more Vampire chronicles is....well...i wanna know if Lestat can just? idk, be happy? be free? But this dude kept trying to get together with his abuser and i honestly don't even know what to say. Really i do not understand why Anne Rice kept making it happen. I have seen zero evidence that Louis changed to become better person and someone actually deserving Lestat's love. And more importantly, idk man, im not a psychologist but can you stop being a p*dophile??? so um. humm. i don't fucking know about this, lol. Like, im gonna be fucking real here, fuck all that "lestat was a bad person" " lestat was manipulative" shit, please grow a brain!!! Lestat was a good and loving person!! Period! all his bullshit has to do with the fact that he died a horrific and traumatic death and was never able to free himself from the pain and despair that trapped him in his vampiric state. But to let go of his pain and truly be the good person that he always was again, it'd require him to...well, embrace true death. But since Lestat will never end im guessing he will just have to stop being a bonafide vampire and become some sort of dark fantasy faery creature lmao. I'm starting to suspect the reason people think prince lestat trilogy is cringey because her vampires just...aren't even vampires by the end of it lol. Im suspecting that Anne Rice literally had to come up with some fantastical mumbo jumbo to justify her vampire characters finding happiness because these bitches kept walking into the sun and they kept not dying from it. I mean, lestat croaking for reales is kind of depressing so MAYBE i will take this shit. maybe i will still read the prince lestat trilogy lol. I heard there is bloodborne lore in there.
#mae overshares#i dont wanna say it but i think i finally decided to get into vampire media cause i was just fucking depressed#ok my life sort of fell apart mid 20s couple of years ago and i hadn't talk about it and i never will#and it was why i went back to tolkien. i had to escape into tales of elves (immortals) to numb my own pain#but for the longest time i was crying all the time just thinking abt the possibility that my loved ones will die#i was so scared that i will never see my grandpa before he passes. im still mortified tbh#i can't face the changefulness of life. and i longed for everything to stay the same. for lack of loss#im afraid of aging. im afraid to turning old. you know. regular depression shit#and im raised buddhist!!! and a key buddhist teaching is that you have to let go of the self to be free#the only way to life Everlasting to stop being obessed with the current consciousness you possess#you have to accept that the person you are now WILL disappear. but you will never end#i know exactly what Life Everlasting is supposed to be and i still! wish for fairy tale immortality!#faith is nothing in comparison to pain. pain overwhelms everything. faith. reason. knowledge#i think maybe tumblrinas are just crying for help when they casually joke abt getting immortality from vampires#cause for the first time in my life i got the morbid humour? i was like 'haha yeah if a vampire came and kill me i will say thank you <3'#i was like 'the thought of becoming some sort of horrid creature is kind of cool as long as i stay young forever <3'#'esp if said horrid creature wants to fuck me <3'#honestly. it's really hard to let go of pain. and my pain was nothing compare to the shit a lot of people had to go through#it's so EASY to become trapped in your own pain and grief
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𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤)
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth.
or,
you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i swear i cannot escape a brainrot whenever i watch a new show. this automatically wrote itself, i don't even remember how i came up with this idea. anyway, i'm surprised there aren't many sanji fics that involves the unrequited love trope, seeing that it suits him. or maybe that's just me. this is only a SNEAK PEEK though.
𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 full version now published here!
You accepted it years ago.
You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.
Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.
Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.
You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.
As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.
"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.
"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.
Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."
This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."
"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."
"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.
"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.
It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.
But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.
"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.
Ah.
You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.
"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.
You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"
"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."
Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.
"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."
You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.
"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.
He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."
Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."
The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.
That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.
Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.
You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.
A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"
Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.
"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.
You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."
Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite dessert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.
You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.
Happy Birthday
— S.
You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
again, this is only a sneak peek of the actual fic, i'm currently halfway in completing it. please let me know if you want to read it, because i might publish it next week. if not, i'll just drown in sorrow and self-pity.
#opla#opla x reader#opla x y/n#one piece#one piece live action#opla sanji#one piece sanji#sanji#vinsmoke sanji#sanji live action#sanji x reader#sanji x you#sanji x y/n#opla sanji x reader#angst#one piece sanji x reader#ਏਓ ladadiida
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Hi!! Could you do a fic where Jeonghan is being the menace that he is, but his partner is the only one who can quell him with one look pls? Like he is just super soft w her and always listens cos he’s a simp?
content: simp!jeonghan, established relationship, afab reader, slightly suggestive, etc.
wc: 1156
a/n: this was based on that one scene from nana tour in which jeonghan basically waterboarded mingyu for absolutely no reason (ik he was on a mission but he drenched him ?!\>\£). hope u enjoy <3
masterlist
jeonghan was always known to be a bit of a menace by all his friends.
well, maybe even more than just his friends. after all, there was a reason why he was often called the loki of seventeen by many of his fans.
he was simply a bit unconventional in the ways in which he found entertainment, such as the time in which he berated dokyeom into searching for bugs for them to eat on the streets. he simply had a tendency for bugging his members (out of love, of course), becoming an extra obstacle in their lives just for the fun of it.
now, jeonghan also had a heart of gold and far too much love for his brothers to ever actually cause any harm to them. however, after over a decade of knowing his brothers, he had somehow conditioned them to accept his odd behaviors and simply go along with his shenanigans whenever he felt like acting up.
you, as well as his members, always found great entertainment in his weird behaviors. i mean, it takes a great man to be able to cheat his way through every single game without consequence.
despite finding humor in his ways, you would sometimes have a tendency to put a halt to it. a simple whine of 'hannie!' would have him stopping in his tracks and murmuring against your ear as he whined back but relented at you. what you didn't know, however, was that you were the only person who held this power over jeonghan (even his sister would occasionally fall victim to his menacing ways).
today was one of the many instances in which jeonghan grew bored while at practice, deiciding to wreck havoc just for the hell of it. it was easy for him to spot a victim, – it was usually mingyu – which then lead him to approach him with the illest of intentions. there was never much thinking that went into teasing his members. it was just second nature to him by now. so when he eyed the water bottle in mingyu's hand, even the other members who were standing nearby could see what jeonghan's next move would be.
he was patient with it; engaging in conversation as he usually would as to not draw suspicion. jeonghan realized in that moment that maybe his instincive need to bug mingyu for no reason might be something to look into, but that would come some other day. for now, he wanted a quick laugh.
jeonghan saw his opening the moment mingyu uncapped his bottle and brought it to his lips, taking advantage of his calculated proximity to tilt the end of the bottle in order to drench mingyu's face, causing the man to almost choke on the water he'd been drinking.
as expected, this began a mini war between the two boys, as five minutes later they were both attacking each other with any and every water bottle they could find in their vicinity, even going as far as causing collateral damage to a few of the other members. what jeonghan hadnt planned, however, was a sudden visit from you, who had walked in just as jeonghan squirted yet another water bottle directly at mingyu's face.
"jeonghan!", you scolded as soon as you were in earshot, "leave him alone, you got him all drenched!", you were now standing next to the group, frown on your face as you took in the scene.
"baby? what are you doing here? did you–"
"don't 'baby' me. why are you bugging mingyu again? look at him! he's completely wet."
"i got water in my eye!," whined the tall man, taking advantage of your defense for him.
by now, a few of the members nearby were snickering at the swift turn of events, entertained by not just the water fight but the way in which you immediately sided with mingyu rather than your boyfriend.
"i'm wet too! how do you know he didn't start it?", tried jeonghan, knowing full well that the idea was unconvincing.
"hannie, don't lie to me."
"okay, fine. i got bored, okay? it's just water, baby. it's fine. right, mingyu?"
"dude, you fucked up my hair," mingyu didnt seem truly offended, but more so wanting to feed the flames now that he had an opportunity. jeonghan could tell by the slight smirk on his face.
the frown remained on your face, continuing to come in mingyu's defense for some reason unknown to jeonghan.
"jeonghan, apologize to him."
"what?", his wide and incredulous eyes turned to look at you, ignoring the snort he was pretty sure seungkwan had just let out.
"you heard me."
"but–"
"hannie!"
"f– fine," like a petulant child, jeonghan turned to mingyu and gave him a forced smile, "i'm sorry for getting you wet, gyu."
"than–"
"thank you", you interrupted the man.
jeonghan couldnt help but feel scolded by you. it was rare that you actually ever went against his shenanigans, but he did know he could sometimes go a little extra hard on mingyu due to mingyu's disposition to put up with jeonghan with no complaint (usually even fighting back). he was a bit embarrassed by the way in which you sided with him and even berated him in front of his members, but he also knew he could never say no to you, so apologizing just seemed logical to him.
after a few moments of him whining at his members to mind their business and go get their own girlfriends, he dragged you away to a less polluted corner of the practice room to get some one-on-one with you.
"babyyyy," he immediately pouted at you, proceeding to attaching to you like a bear, burying his head into your neck.
"hannie, you're all wet!", you complained despite making no move to push him away, even wrapping your arm around him and running a hand through his damp hair.
"why'd you have to do that? the boys are supposed to think you're obsessed with me," he frowned against your neck.
despite the whine behind his words, you could feel the vibration of his giggles against you and the smile pressed against your neck. as per usual, he was just whining because he could; something which you always found an endearing result to any rare instance in which you'd scold him.
"they're all gonna think im a simp now," he continued.
you giggled at that, causing him to sway you back and forth as he buried himself even deeper against you.
"are you not?", you inquired.
"i am, but they dont need to know that!"
"you're so annoying ..."
"yeah, but you find it fun, don't you?"
"im not at liberty of releasing that information."
he laughed against your neck, reaffirming to himself how much he liked the back and forth between the two of you, even if it meant relenting to you every single time, earning himself the title of simp among his members.
#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#svt fanfic#svt x reader#seventeen#svt#seventeen imagine#seventeen oneshot#svt scenarios#seventeen scenarios#jeonghan fanfic#jeonghan x reader#jeonghan scenarios#jeonghan imagines#jeonghan fluff
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“I think I’m going to move to Gotham,” Jazz’s tapped away at her laptop, clicking through her college acceptance letters. Danny sat up from where he was scrolling through his phone and stared at her. “Thoughts?”
“And prayers,” he sassed. “Because you’re going to need them. Why the would you pick Gotham when Harvard accepted you?”
“Gotham has Arkham. And Doctor Quinzel.”
“Isn’t she Harley Quinn? The Crime Princess of Gotham?”
“Yeah, and an acclaimed psychologist with hundreds of published work that revolutionized the mental health field! Sure, she’s more criminally inclined now, but I’d kill to pick her brains.”
Danny grinned. “Interesting word choice. You’d fit right in. It’s just weird that all of their psychologists turned into villains.”
“Okay, but I won’t. You’d stop me.”
“Or I’d join you,” Danny rolled back onto the floor.
“Don’t you dare, Daniel Fenton. You’d better stop me if I went villain.”
“But I feel like you’d have a pretty good reason for it though?”
“I appreciate the trust, dumbass, but I’m always this close to loosing it.” Jazz rolled her eyes as she jabbed a finger at Danny.
“Hah! You’ll fit right into Gotham!”
Jazz hummed. “So, Gotham?”
“Yeah, why not?”
——
“Danny!”
“Little busy!” Danny dodged a blast from a GIW agent.
“Why’d you pick up, then?”
“You don’t call often- hey, can you guys knock it off? I’m on a call!” Danny shouted. Surprisingly the agents stopped.
“Woah. You guys actually stopped?”
“We’re anti-ghost, not rude cavemen. Finish your call, Phantom, so we can get back to capturing you.” The agent with red hair said. Her partner nodded their head.
“Riiiight.” Phantom floated away a bit. “What did you want to talk about?” He asked Jazz.
“So, Dr. Quinzel-”
Danny heard a further off “Call me Harley, darling!”
“Harley,” Jazz continued seamlessly. “Is dating Ivy, a meta! Which, totally cute and their relationship is so healthy. Goals, honestly-”
Danny heard another far off comment, “Awe, thanks, Jazzy-wazzy!”
“But long story short, they got in touch with the Justice League about the GIW and they’re getting pulled back! And disbanded! Are you fighting the agents? Can you see if they’ve got the order to pull back?”
“Wait, seriously?” Danny perked up, the exhaustion from the fight all but gone. “I’ll ask.”
Danny turned to the two agents, pulling the phone away from his ear. “Hey! Did you guys get orders to stop hunting me? I heard the Justice League got involved.”
“What? We didn’t-”
“Shit, wait, we got orders.” Her partner jabbed their phone at her.
“Fuck. This isn’t over, Phantom!”
“Yeah, yeah! Shoo!” Danny watched them peel away. “Thanks, Jazz! Maybe I’ll finally get a peaceful school year.”
“R.I.P.” Jazz solemnly intoned.
“Dead-ass.” Danny replied, just as seriously before the both of them broke. Cackling, Danny said goodbye to Jazz.
“Maybe I should get some gifts? Hm… Undergrowth has some rare plants.” Danny muttered as he flew back home.
#danny phantom#jazz fenton#dc x dp#dpxdc#dc x dp crossover#Harley Quinn#that’s DOCTOR Harleen Quinzel to you#poison ivy#harley x ivy#Gotham#justice league#the giw#Jazz Fenton goes to college and takes down a government branch with the aid of well known criminals
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Howdy! Could I request a Theodore Nott, secret relationship, “don’t leave me… please”. ❤️
here u go!! i actually really like this idea and kind of wanna recycle it for a longer fic maybe.. 🤔 thank u for the request! 💌
theodore nott x reader + secret relationship + “don’t leave me… please”
➺ part of my 2k milestone writing game
You’re stressfully stirring sugar into your tea in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place when Mattheo and Theodore turn up, bruised and bloody in the hands of Alastor Moody.
The Auror had sent a message in advance through his Patronus, alerting members of the Order that he was heading to headquarters with two death eater defectors. An hour of hoping it’s who you think, and three cups of tea later, you breathe a sigh of relief when you realise Mattheo and Theo are alive.
The way Theo is leaning his weight on Mattheo doesn’t slip past you, and as soon as he finds you among the others, you rush forward.
“Hi,” Theo whispers, the greeting reserved only for you despite the numerous others in the dining room. His eyes are drooping slightly as he sways on his feet. Nonetheless, he gives you a weak smile. “I’m okay. I promise.”
You nod slowly, brows furrowed in concern despite his reassurance. Ignoring Moody’s confused stares, along with the whispering happening behind you, you do a quick scan of Mattheo and find that he’s definitely had worse injuries from spontaneous fist fights during your years at Hogwarts.
“Are you okay?” you mouth at him, just in case. He winks at you in answer.
Moody, seemingly snapping out of his confusion, turns to you and raises a brow. “You know these two, then?” he asks gruffly, a hint of suspicion creeping into his voice.
“We all went to school together,” Dean Thomas pipes up, saving you from having to stumble over your words in an attempt to explain your relationship with Theo.
There’s no doubt in your mind that everyone in the room suspects you and Theo are more than just schoolmates, but you don’t move to address anything. The implications of you being in love with an ex-death eater aside, it’s none of their business. Moody doesn’t quite seem to accept this immediately.
”School,” he mutters, nodding begrudgingly. “And how well do you-”
“Alastor,” McGonagall cuts him off sharply. Peering at him over her spectacles, she purses her lips. “You can get to interrogating them about being Transfiguration partners after they’ve recovered. These boys need a healer. Now.”
“Yes, yes,” Moody replies grumpily, reluctantly letting them go to open the door to the hall. “We’ve got Poppy in the living room. She’ll fix them up, nice and quick.”
You step back to give the two boys space to make their way to the Healer, but Theo catches your hand and grips it tightly. “No. No, Y/N can do it. Just give her some of the medicine, I’m not seeing anyone else.”
You open your mouth to object, wanting Madame Pomfrey to assess him properly, but the pleading in his eyes has you hesitating.
“Don’t leave me…” Theo’s voice becomes lower, quieter and earnest. “Please.”
“Okay,” you exhale, cupping his face with your hand and stroking your thumb over his cheekbone. You look over at Professor McGonagall for confirmation and when she sighs and nods, you respond with a grateful smile before turning back to Theo. “I won’t leave you.”
Mattheo clears his throat, popping the little bubble you and Theo have found yourself in and making you look away, cheeks warm. Walking over to where Moody holds the door open, Mattheo gives you both a knowing look before speaking to the rest of the room. “I guess I‘ll be seeing dear, old Poppy alone then. Nothing she hasn’t fixed before.”
Taking this as your cue to leave, you wrap an arm around Theo’s waist to support him as you make your way out of the room and up the stairs to an empty room. You help him to sit on the bed and disentangle your hand from his, dropping a kiss to the inside of his palm. “I need to go get the stuff from Madame Promfrey, I won’t be a minute-”
“Not yet,” Theo pleads, hooking pinky finger around your own and tugging lightly. “I’m not that injured, just… come here for a second.”
Your resolve crumbles immediately due to not having seen Theo since school ended a month ago, during which he was trying to leave the other side of the war without getting himself killed. You sit next to him on the bed, but he immediately reaches over to manoeuvre you by the waist until your legs are wrapped around him in a straddling position. Theo presses a soft kiss to your lips and the pure love radiating from him makes your heart jump to your throat. When he pulls away, he looks more relaxed and content than he has in months.
“Hi,” he says, a gentle smile playing about his lips while he fingers the hem of your shirt where it sits at your back. Tingles run down your spine where his cold fingers brush against your skin and you end up leaning into his chest even more, causing his smile to deepen. “I missed you, darling.”
“What, Crabbe and Goyle weren’t good company?” you tease, tilting your head. Theo scoffs in disgust, lightly tugging on a lock of your hair and looking at you expectantly. “I missed you too, Theo. So, so much. I’m glad you got out.”
“Me too,” he sighs, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder. You both stay in silence for a few minutes and you bask in the warmth of Theo’s breaths fanning over your collarbone. He nestles his face into your neck and seems perfectly happy just to stay there when he speaks. “It was torture staying away, you know. I’m never leaving your side again.”
You run your fingers through Theo’s hair, lightly scratching at his scalp and biting back a smile when he lets out a sound halfway between a sigh and a groan. “You being glued to me is probably going to make it clear that we’re more than ex-Transfiguration partners, by the way.”
“I bet you anything they all already know,” Theo murmurs distractedly. You frown and sit up straighter to look at him, raising a curious brow in questioning. He looks at you like it’s obvious. “Mattheo is downstairs, unsupervised. If he hasn’t told everyone by now…”
You shake your head, shifting to move off Theo’s lap. A pout forms on his lips, but he reluctantly lets you stand. “I better go do some damage control while I go get the stuff from Pomfrey. Merlin knows what embarrassing things Mattheo is telling them right now.”
“I can think of a few things,” Theo says, his innocent voice contrasting with the devious smirk on his face. “Like the time we were in the Astronomy Tower and you were too loud, so-”
“Right, okay!” you interrupt loudly, screwing your eyes shut in embarrassment as you try your best not to relive that particular memory. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the way Theo is cracking up, you smile sweetly at him. “You haven’t had any injuries to the head, have you?”
“No, love,” he replies, grinning. “Why?”
You grab a pillow and swing it into Theo’s face, knocking him backwards on the bed. Crossing your arms in satisfaction, you falter when he stays laying down and moans in pain.
“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” you rush out, panicked as you move the pillow out of the way to climb onto the bed and hover over him. Theo cracks his eyes open slightly, his face scrunched up in discomfort and your stomach drops. “Theo, where does it hurt?”
“Here, come closer,” Theo winces, gesturing you forward, closer and closer and you furrow your brows in confusion. When you’re close enough, he snakes his hand around to the nape of your neck and pulls you into a deep kiss, burying his fingers in your hair. You don’t bother admonishing him, your head getting dizzy from the feel of his lips moving against your own. You only pull away when you hear sudden laughter coming from downstairs. Theo doesn’t look ashamed in the slightest when you do. “All better.”
“Not yet, you’re not,” you say, rolling your eyes and sitting up again. You make sure you put all of your weight on the mattress to do so, just in case you actually do end up hurting him. “I’m actually going downstairs now, okay? The idea of Mattheo talking to McGonagall is driving me crazier by the minute.”
“Come back quickly?” he asks lightly, but there’s a hint of pleading in the way his hand circles your wrist. You give him a reassuring smile and another quick peck on the lips.
“Always.”
#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott#theodore nott x you#Theodore nott scenarios#theodore nott fanfiction#theodore nott x y/n#Theodore nott fluff#theodore nott smut#theo nott#Theodore nott imagines
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she's three years younger than i am, and i put on cascada as a throwback, cackling - before your time! i've been borrowing my brother's car, and it's older than dirt, so the trunk is like, maybe permanently locked. when the sun comes through the window to frame her cheekbones, i feel like i'm 16 again. i shake when i'm kissing her, worried i won't get it right.
in 2003, my state made gay marriage legal. where she grew up, it wasn't legal until 11 years later - 10 years ago. if legal protections for gay marriage were a person, that person would be entering 5th grade. online, a white gay man calls the fight for legal marriage boring, which isn't kind of him but it is a common enough opinion.
it has only been 9 years since gay marriage was nationally official. it is already boring to have gay people in your tv. it is already boring to mention being gay - "why make it your entire personality?" i know siblings that have a larger age gap than the amount of time it's been legally protected. i recently saw a grown man record himself crying about how evil gay people are. he was begging us, red in the face - just do better.
i am absolutely ruined any time my girlfriend talks about being 27 (i know!! a child!), but we actually attended undergrad at the same time since i had taken off time to work between high school and college. while walking through the city, we drop our hands, try not to look too often at each other. the other day i went to an open mic in a basement. the headlining comedian said being lesbian isn't interesting, but i am a lesbian, if you care. as a joke, she had any lesbian raise their hand if present. i raised mine, weirdly embarrassed at being the single hand in a sea of other faces. she had everyone give me a round of applause. i felt something between pride and also throwing up.
sometimes one thing is also another thing. i keep thinking about my uncle. he died in the hospital without his husband of 35 years - they were not legally wed, so his husband could not enter. this sounds like it should be from 1950. it happened in 2007. harassment and abuse and financial hardship still follow any person who is trying to get married while disabled. marriage equality isn't really equal yet.
and i don't know that i can ever put a name to what i'm experiencing. sometimes it just feels... so odd to watch the balance. people are fundamentally uninterested in your identity, but also - like, there's a whole fucking bastion of rabid men and women who want to kill you. your friends roll their eyes you're gay we get it and that is funny but like. when you asked your father do you still love me? he just said go to your room. you haven't told your grandmother. disney is on their 390th "first" gay representation, but also cancelled owl house and censored the fuck out of gravity falls. you actively got bullied for being gay, but your advisor told you to find a different gimmick for your college essay - everyone says they're gay these days.
once while you were having a hard day you cried about the fact that the reason our story is so fucking boring to so many people is that it is so similar. that it is rare for one of us to just, like, have a good experience across the board. that our stories often have very parallel bends - the dehumanization, the trauma, the trouble with trusting again. these become rote instead of disgusting. how bad could it be if it is happening to so many people?
i kiss my girlfriend when nobody is looking. i like her jawline and how her hands splay when she's making a joke. there is nothing new about this story, sappho. i love her like opening up the sun. like folding peace between the layers of my life, a buttercream of euphoria, freckles and laughter and wonder.
my dad knows about her. i've been out to him since i was 18 - roughly four years before the supreme court would protect us. the other day he flipped down the sun visor while driving me to the eye doctor. "you need to accept that your body was made for a husband. you want to be a mother because you were made for men, not women." he wants me to date my old high school boyfriend. i gagged about it, and he shook his head. he said - "don't be so dramatic. you can get used to anything."
the other day a straight friend of mine snorted down her nose about it, accidentally echoing him - she said there are bigger problems in this world than planning a wedding.
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push & pull
5.7k | din djarin x f!reader
summary: after convincing him to help you hide from the guild, you teach mando how to enjoy himself. this is the way.
warnings: smut (duh), 18+, mdni. canon-typical violence, but otherwise it's super canon divergent. din is a touch-starved virgin, soft touches, lap-sitting, the helmet stays on, mask kink, din does lots of whimpering, experienced!reader, mutual masturbation, virginity loss (m), praise kink, creampie, brief aftercare at the end.
note: look me in the eye and tell me he wouldn't crumble at the thought of skin-to-skin contact. yeah. you can't. anyways this is so long and so self-indulgent. pls forgive me. if mando takes his helmet off by the end of this, mind ur business this is sooooo not canon.
note p.2: i'm so sorry this took so long but i was hungover. also this was not meant to be this long. so count this as a big fat thank you for 1.4k as well as my bday present to you guys (for my bday.) impaired editing i apologize.
With the light of both suns in your eyes, forcing you to blink the spots from your vision, you brushed a hand across your forehead. The dry, dusty atmosphere of Tatooine was no joke, and you scowled under the cloth you'd brought with you to cover your mouth and nose.
"Figures," you mumbled to yourself, looking down to see a small pile of sand building on the tops of your boots, the wind blowing it into place. "Why would anyone choose to live here?"
Of course, you weren't looking for a resident; you were looking for a fugitive. The infamous Mandalorion, no less. You'd been given less-than-satisfactory information on the bounty hunter and the reasons for such a high reward for his capture, but it wasn't like you had much choice than to accept the job. Despite what you told yourself, you did actually need the money.
That was before you'd figured out that everyone else in the Guild had been tasked with the same job, turning a high stakes bounty hunting gig into a near-definite suicide mission. Something you didn't want anything to do with.
But alas, here you stood, practically sinking into the hot Tatooine desert. You had to keep shifting your weight to keep at least one foot above the surface. You never knew when you'd have to make a quick getaway. There were still a handful of Guild members left that presented a challenge to collecting your bounty, and of course they were the most dangerous ones.
You kicked a foot forward and watched the sand shift, cursing the trouble that was inevitably on its way. You'd managed to bribe your way to Tatooine, where the Mandalorian was apparently hiding from the Guild. And if you had found the Mandalorian, there was almost no possibility that the others hadn't found him.
Because, if you were being honest with yourself—the one task you excelled in—being a bounty hunter wasn't exactly something you were good at. In fact, you were far from it. With luck and just enough anxiety to keep your feet moving, you'd floundered your way through three years in the Guild, searching for a way out just as quickly as you'd begged for a way in.
So you'd gotten yourself into this mess. Wasn't that how it normally went, though? Quick decision-making skills weren't necessarily a blessing if the decisions you made would determine your chances of living past thirty (spoiler: the chances were significantly slimmer).
You rubbed the dust out of your eyes once more and saw some movement in the distance, the subtle glint of beskar blinking toward you as it reflected the sunlight. Gotcha, you murmured inwardly. The Mandalorian was here, and you were going to get him. Not to turn him in, no; you held no loyalty to the Guild and its cult-like policies.
This job was an escape mission. If he could stay hidden, maybe he had room for one more. You'd cut a deal.
There had to be something you could offer him, if not your skills in combat, or stealth, or—
Or simply human mobility, you groaned inwardly as you felt your ankle roll underneath you, the sand softer than you'd anticipated. It'll be a good day when I leave this damn place.
—
It was a wonder that the two of you had survived. You'd hardly gotten the chance to give your proposal before he was aiming his blaster at you, and then at the Guild members that showed up in droves behind you. It was all you could do to get out of the way, knowing you'd be hopeless in the fight.
Now, with their bodies scattered around your feet, the Mandalorian standing a few feet from you with his chest heaving, and his beloved ship somehow still functional, you had your chance.
"You're not...very good at this," he said, the helmet masking his voice in a way that made it scratch along the insides of your ears as it traveled to your brain. "You do know that?" he asked, but it sounded more like an accidental insult than a real question.
You threw your hands up, letting them fall heavily to your sides. "Yeah, I told you that," you scoffed. "That's why I'm asking to go with you. Wherever you're headed."
His head tilted, the beskar shining in the setting suns, and you wondered what his eyes looked like under that helmet. Would they be sparkling with mirth or lined with mockery?
"I thought you were kidding," he said sheepishly, shifting his weight. "To get me to underestimate you." He looked like the picture of careful relaxation, although his blaster was still held tightly in both hands, poised in case he needed to aim and fire.
You couldn't help the exasperation in your tone as you lifted your head to the sky, squeezing your eyes shut and placing a curled fist over your eyes. "Why would I do that when I don't want to turn you in?"
He didn't answer.
"You know that there's only two ways out of this, right?" He still didn't answer you, just held his blaster taut and his head tilted to the side, so you continued. "You killed every Guild member that's left. Now it's just you and I. If I don't bring you in—which I'm not exactly dying to do—those rich fucks that are more powerful than us are gonna come find us."
"Find you," he corrected. "Why would I want to add another target to my ship?"
You shrugged. "Yeah, they probably will. But that's only part of the first option. Either they come for me, and you leave me here, and I die—also something I'm not particularly thrilled to think about—or the two of us..." you gestured with your hands to imitate the pair of you getting on the Razor Crest and flying away from Tatooine and its dusty expanse of a landscape.
"Could be a third option," he said quietly, "if you think about it." He lifted his blaster until it was lined up with your chest. "I might just kill you and cut my losses."
Fear might have struck you, but you didn't have the energy to entertain the panic unspooling in your chest. "That wouldn't be very humanitarian of you. Besides," you insisted, hands lifting to portray the image of surrender, "I'm light. I'm quiet. I won't stay with you longer than I need to. Once you get me off this planet, I'll find a place for you to drop me off."
He didn't answer for a moment.
"Literally," you pushed once more, "you can open the back door and push me out for all I care. I just want out of the Guild and all their dumb shit."
You'd known Mandalorians to be quiet, pious, and ruthless, but something about the way his helmet betrayed no hint to what he was thinking or how he might respond...it made you more anxious than you'd ever been in your life. Finally, he spoke, his voice calm. "Well...you're not coming with me. Ship's full."
"Your ship?" you said, incredulous. "That thing would be gone without me."
"Damn luck, that was." His voice had gone hard, but his body was still.
This was...partially true. Your mind flashed with a memory of the way you'd accidentally pulled the trigger on one of your blasters, effectively stunning the last Guild member who'd been attempting to strap explosives to the hull of the Crest. It was the only good thing that you'd done all day.
You curled your lip, annoyance rippling off you in waves. Lifting a middle finger in front of the helmet, you scowled. Hope he can see this under all that beskar, you snarled inwardly. "Still counts."
With a soft huff that you could hear come from under his helmet, the Mandalorian lowered his blaster. "One jump into hyperspace. The first little space rock that's big enough to stand on—"
"Perfect," you interrupted firmly. "I'll be out of you...armor...soon enough."
—
You'd missed your stop about three years ago. One jump into hyperspace had turned into four, and then ten, and...now you had your own spot to rest your head at night on the Razor Crest.
On that first day, you hadn't known the Mandalorian—"Din Djarin," he'd introduced himself reluctantly one day—was still traveling with Grogu, the sweet child that had begun his journey across the galaxy, hiding from the Guild. But you'd quickly decided it was nice to have another partner in crime, to interact with whenever Din was in the middle of one of his quiet days.
As the days had turned into months, and subsequently into years, the inability to meet Din face-to-face had become less frustrating, although sometimes you wished you could sneak a glance at his hands, or his wrists, or something that might resemble the human underneath the armor.
Once in awhile, deliciously, you could tilt your head just the right way and look forward at him when he was in the cockpit, his helmet pulling away from the cloth under his armor. Between helmet and armor, a sliver of golden skin would glimmer back at you, just begging to be touched. Of course, you never gave in to your silent desires.
This was not the Mandalorian way; you knew this well. Even when you felt his head turned toward you, even when you were sure his hands were reaching for you when you needed his help climbing somewhere, you kept your distance.
Well, for as long as you could. Until he forced your hand.
It wasn't long before you were unable to keep your hands away from him; going up and down the ladder on the Crest, or climbing over the occasional boulder on the routes you walked along when forced to take a respite on an unknown planet. His gloves were always rough in your grip, but you couldn't ignore the way his hands seemed to squeeze yours, tighter than might have been necessary.
And you'd begun letting your hands linger on the beskar of his armor for moments longer than you should—his helmet, tracing the indented curves of the spot where his cheekbones rested underneath, or on his chestplate, where you swore you could feel him lean into you, as if pressing your hands closer and closer to his skin beneath the armor.
You stood beside him as he sat in the chair in the cockpit, guiding the Razor Crest through the galaxy once more, aiming for some undisclosed location he'd neglected to tell you. He usually did things like that; you'd learned not to be offended by his unbreakable instinct to keep things to himself.
It hadn't occurred to you just how long he'd been wearing that helmet until you looked toward him again and noticed the soft curl of a few brown strands of hair that crept from the edges, kissing the back of his neck. They were short strands, but they were long enough to wink up at you as they curled around each other, begging to be touched.
"Din?" you asked, hoping to distract yourself from the thought.
He didn't look at you, but he tilted his head in your direction, just a centimeter. It was enough.
"Why'd you let me stay with you?" you gripped your hands together, as if they had a mind of their own and couldn't be trusted to remain at your sides. "I was horrible at any aspect of being a bounty hunter."
You were used to the way that it always took him a few seconds to answer, coming up with an evenly-expressed response. This, of course, gave you more time to stare at the tendrils spilling from the edges of his helmet.
"You were a risk," he admitted with a shrug, the helmet (of course) not betrayed anything. His voice was calm, even as he continued softly. "I have a particular...proclivity for picking up foundlings," he said with a tilt of his head toward Grogu, who cooed at the mention of him.
You lifted an eyebrow. "I'm not a foundling, though."
If you could have seen his eyes, you were almost positive that they'd be giving you a look that said, are you sure? Instead, he only spoke in his perpetually smooth voice. "You were lost, though, mesh'la."
You still weren't sure what each word in Mando'a meant—he'd been dropping a few words here and there, as if he knew you couldn't interpret them—but you blushed all the same. Before you knew it, your hands were releasing their grip on one another and reaching up to comb through the curls at the base of his neck.
They were softer than you'd imagined; smooth and thick in your grip. "Alright," you said gently, "maybe I was. I never got to thank you, you know."
Your hands were moving on their accord now, silently twirling the curls around the tips of your fingers. You were used to his silent, immobile exterior, so you didn't think he'd be able to feel the way you pressed your hand to the back of his neck. He'd never said anything before that gave the impression that he was aware of your ministrations, so when he leaned back into your touch then, something strong and addiction bloomed in your gut.
When he spoke, you were surprised to hear how shaky his voice was. After three years of hearing nothing but steady syllables fall from his masked lips, you nearly flinched at the stutter in his voice.
"Thank me?" he said quietly. "For..." you could have sworn you felt his heartbeat flutter rapidly in his neck when he trailed off. "For what?"
You pulled your hand away, pretending not to notice the way he shuddered at the loss of touch, his shoulders slumping as if in a pained relaxation. You hid your smirk. "You're not seriously asking that, right? Without you, I'd probably be dead by now." Or worse, you reflected with a quiet pang in your chest.
Din's response was quick this time, an unusual—but not unwelcome—surprise. "And without your perfectly timed luck, I might be without a ship." His voice was thick, trembling with something that might have sounded like desire had it been someone else speaking.
You didn't even think Din had the capacity to know something as heavy as desire. Well, not that he was incapable of feeling desire, just...you'd never thought about what he might do if he did feel it. Would he shove the temptations down, destined to die in the corners of his mind and body?
Your cheeks warmed at your next thought. Perhaps he took care of it himself in the dead of night on the Razor Crest, or on those mysteriously long patrol walks that he insisted on doing alone.
"Yeah, well..." your answer was pitiful and you knew it. But you were too busy looking at the way his body was slumped in his seat, facing forward despite every limb beginning to turn toward you, as if you were a magnetic beacon.
His fingers twitched in his gloves, angling toward you just as his knees began to do the same thing. "Will you..." he trailed off, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Mesh'la," he breathed, and he leaned to the side, as if his shoulder was chasing your touch. "Put it back."
You were going to ask what he meant, but you didn't have to. Even with his helmet on, you could practically see the pleading in his body language. Here he was, a devout Mandalorian, begging you to put your hands back on him.
"Please," he said quietly, almost a question. It sounded so unlike him that you wondered briefly if he'd been killed and replaced with an imposter. But by the way that his hand trembled as he took his focus away from flying the Crest and moved it toward you...this was Din.
"You...okay?" you asked, but you obliged his request in return, replacing your hand at the base of his neck. You watched in an unfurling dizzying sense of satisfaction as he reached up his own gloved hand to cover yours, squeezing it gently. "Din," you started, but he shook his head.
"I've never disobeyed the Way of the Mandalore," he said, his voice muffled under the mask. You strained your eyes, wishing you could see beneath the beskar. "I've never wanted to. Not before..." he brought your hand around to rest on his chestplate, and you could feel the pressure of his chest leaning into your touch. "Not before I knew what it might feel like to want someone like this."
Your eyes widened, but you didn't pull your hand away. "You...what?"
His head tilted down. "For once, I don't know how to manage this." He stood up, and suddenly he was towering over you, the cloth under his armor making your fingers itch to tear it off. "How do I manage this?"
"I..." you couldn't hide your shock. "I don't know. It's...isn't it against your religion? It's not the Way."
Din shook his head. "No, it's not." He spread his hand down your wrist and extended it toward your own chest, the leather of his glove seeping into your skin. "But I've also never told anyone my name. Never heard it spoken since I was a child."
You swallowed roughly. "So?"
He huffed a chuckle. Lifting your hands to his helmet, he let your fingers find the divots of the beskar. You didn't miss the way his chest shuddered with a stuttering breath at your touch. "So," he said, "to hell with the Way. For tonight, at least. I need to know you in every way I wish I could."
Such a harrowing request, given the circumstances. But you couldn't stop your hands from tracing the lines of his masked face. "Din..."
"Please." His voice cracked over the single syllable, and it was all you needed.
To hell with the Way, your thoughts echoed his words, and you nodded softly. "Alright," you acquiesced. With one look down, you saw the tent growing in his pants, sending a spike of desire down your spine, settling in your core. "How'll you have me?" you asked.
He let out a soft noise that sounded like a whimper. "Any way that I can," he choked out, his hand returning to your wrist and enclosing it in his grip. "I'll have you any way you'll have me."
You could hardly speak, so you didn't. With a gentle nudge, you pushed him back into his seat. When he sat back, his legs fell open; there was an inviting space between them.
Standing in the spot, just inches from his face, you stared into the black mass of his helmet, hoping you'd get a glimpse of his face. Of course, you knew he would only go as far as he wanted to. If the mask was destined to remain, then...so be it.
With your eyes on his, you moved his hands to your waist, pressing them to your skin and enjoying the feeling of his leather against your body.
He shook his head. "Take them off," he said, again with that whimpering voice. "Please."
You nodded wordlessly and shed his hands of the barriers, heat pooling in your core at the sight of long, thick fingers, his skin finally exposed to you. Returning his hands to your waist, you tilted your head back at the sensation. You were never going to forget what his skin felt against yours.
The melody of shuddering breaths that fell from his lips was unreal, and you wanted to soak up every second of it. Without more than a second thought, you slid your legs over his, straddling his hips and pressing your chest to his chestplate. His hands remained on your waist, but he let them wander, curling them around to cup your ass.
The feeling of his hands on your body made you unconsciously roll your hips forward, which released a strangled moan from his lips. "Oh, god," he mumbled. "Mesh'la, please take it off."
You paused. Your hands fell to your lap, and your eyes were wider than saucers in the reflection of his helmet. "What?"
He picked up your hands in his own, the rub of skin against skin an intoxicating intimacy. "Please," he begged. "If I'm going to touch you like this, I need to see you, cyar'ika. Nothing in the way."
You were going to argue further, but you couldn't ignore the pulsing need that was clouding your thoughts, the same need that pushed your hips further down into his lap. It was impossible to miss the way his cock twitched against your clit, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.
“Are you—”
“Don’t fuckin’ ask me if I’m sure,” he begged, and he squeezed your hips under his hands. “Never been more sure, mesh’la.”
This time it was your turn to let out a shaky breath. “Okay,” you whispered, more to bolster your own confidence than his own. His resolve was clearly rather strong in this matter, and nothing would change his mind.
With a hand on either side of the helmet, you gently pulled it up and away from his face, hardly able to believe that he’d agreed to let you rid him of his every barrier. For a moment, as each inch of skin was revealed to you, you caught yourself frantically wondering what he might look like.
Would he look like anyone else? Would he look familiar to you in that way that only lovers can? Or would he be hiding a deformed brow bone or an abnormally small nose or a crude smile?
Of course, you shouldn’t have even worried. When the helmet lifted off of his head and you let it fall to the floor with a hard thud, you smiled at the face that blinked back at you in wonder. With those brown strands that were just long enough to hang down over his forehead, and the matching brown eyes that twinkled with the moonlight in his pupils, Din Djarin was exquisite.
“I knew it,” you hummed, your eyes tracing every line on his face, every strand of hair that clung charmingly to his forehead.
His response was a strangled moan, and his eyes fluttered closed of their own accord when you dragged a finger along his jaw, then the hooked line of his nose. “Knew what?”
“I knew you’d be one of the pretty ones,” you grinned, and you leaned down to press your lips to his, swallowing his groan of ecstasy.
You drank it down like the sweetest liquor, the sound pulling your own moan from your chest. His lips were chapped and dry from lack of care, but his mouth was warm and wet and his tongue was deliciously shy as he darted it towards yours. His hands stuttered as they pressed further up your chest and felt for your breasts. You weren’t sure how long he’d last; his chest was already heaving.
“Din,” you pulled back with a grin. “Din,” you repeated when his eyes remained closed. “Thought you wanted to look at me?”
“I do,” he said, his voice choking in his throat. “I do, mesh’la, I just…I think I might come in my damn suit if I look at those lips too long.”
You cooed, letting a hand search for the roots of his hair, finding a home on his scalp. You curled your fingers in the strands and watched his eyes squeeze shut, his jaw go slack, and felt his hips buck up into yours. “You’re so sensitive, baby,” you hummed, your mind running wild with thoughts of what this could mean.
“Never been touched like this,” he mumbled, voice cracking again. “Feels perfect, mesh’la.”
“I need you to look at me, Din,” you nodded. “It’ll keep feeling good, I promise. I just need you to look at me.”
When his eyes opened, you could have fallen apart right there at the sight of his glassy brown depths. His lip quivered and you almost thought he’d cry, but then he was letting his hand fall from your chest to your waistband, trailing his thumb along the skin there. “Can I?” he asked gently.
Nodding, you stood up. “Just keep breathing, pretty boy,” you said softly. “I’ll make you feel good. Show you just how good it can be.” You guided his hands to your waist and let him pull your pants to your ankles, revealing the front of your glistening slit to him.
Din was just starting to understand the drug-like effects of physical touch, so you weren’t surprised when he leaned forward, fell to his knees, and pressed his forehead to the soft skin of your stomach, breathing deeply as if he were a zealot bent to pray at the altar.
“C’mere,” you whispered, though unable to hide the growing smirk on your face. There seemed to be nothing more addicting than the sight of the Mandalorian on his knees before you. “Sit back down for me, baby,” you said, tilting his chin up to look at you. “Take those pants off, they look awfully restricting.”
He nodded quickly and obeyed, slipping his pants down to his knees as he sat back on his chair. It was downright sinful—the beskar on his chest but his helmet removed and his cock springing free, the tip red and angry and leaking. “Please,” he begged. “I—”
“I know,” you breathed, stepping closer to him. “We’re gonna make each other feel good now, yeah?”
Din nodded once more, his eyes fluttering shut. “Please, please.”
Well, how were you going to deny him then?
You straddled him once more, your clit throbbing at the sight of his cock underneath you. But rather than shock him with the feeling of your pussy milking him for all he was worth, you hovered over him, just enough that the head of his cock lay just an inch from your entrance.
“Mesh’la,” he begged, “please don’t tease. I’ll be good. I’ll make you feel good, I swear to everything I’ve ever believed in—”
A finger pressed to his lips, you shook your head. “I know,” you repeated. “Deep breaths for me, Din.”
He inhaled sharply and shoved his breath out of his chest. For a moment, his eyes cleared.
“Good,” you encouraged him, relishing in the look of his wide eyes at the praise. “Such a pretty boy, baby.” You moved his hand to your core, guiding his fingers to your clit. “Rub little circles for me, baby. Make me feel good and I’ll make you feel good.”
He obliged quickly, rubbing tentative circles to your clit in a way that had you smiling gently, loving the sacrilege you were participating in. “Is that g—oh!”
Din’s question was interrupted by your hand reaching down to grip his cock, delivering a quick stroke and making his hips stutter. He tried his best to lift his hips from the chair, clearly aiming for your entrance, but one hand on the beskar on his chest had him sitting back.
“It’s okay, baby,” you cooed, “just like that. Just touch me for a while.”
Ever the gentleman, Din kept his eyes on you and his hand on your pussy, pulling sweet sounds from your lips just as you wrecked him beneath you. Your thumb slid against his tip and he almost came; you could tell by the way his breath caught in his throat and his eyes squeezed shut, lip trapped between his teeth.
You wanted his fingers to wander toward your dripping entrance, but you knew he might not last long enough for any more foreplay. Next time, you thought smugly.
Now…now you needed him inside you.
“Gentle, baby,” you reminded him when he gripped your hip too tightly. You didn’t want to tell him you enjoyed the near-bruising strength; that would be for another time. You could already see that you were close to losing him, and you weren’t going to end this experience without riding him until the both of you saw stars. “One more deep breath, yeah?”
He was a mess of tumbling words in Mando’a that you didn’t understand, and his brow was furiously furrowed, as if it was taking all of his focus not to come on your hand. As a matter of fact, it probably was taking all of his focus. “Please, mesh’la,” he said again.
You wondered briefly if you’d begin answering that now; treating it as your name. Mesh’la.
“Deep breath, baby,” you reminded him, and when he obeyed, you sank your hips towards his. The tip of his cock slid in with no resistance; you were wetter than you’d ever been in your life. “Good boy,” you moaned as you kept your hand on his neck, softly cupping the underside of his jaw to look at you. “So fuckin’ pretty like this.”
The stretch of his cock inside you was delicious, and pleasure licked sharply at your insides, begging for a quick release. You knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself together much longer based on the whimpers that still crumbled from his throat, broken and jagged.
“So fuckin’ pretty?” he repeated, his voice a high squeak. He gripped your hips and threw his head back. “So fuckin’ pretty for you?”
Your breath rushed out of your chest in a strong blow and you had to take a deep breath yourself to calm down. “All for me, Din, that’s it,” you continued, and you lifted your hips up. Dropping them back into his lap, you soaked up the feeling of being filled so completely by his cock. With every shred of patience left in your body, you pushed your lips back to his and tasted his moans on his tongue.
His hips began lifting into your own, the only clue you’d get to his desperation for more. Without a word, you began moving faster, more rhythmically, as you bounced gently on his cock. With the base of his cock pulsing against your clit at every drop of your hips, you were approaching that edge quicker and quicker. “Din,” you moaned, “baby, I’m gonna—”
“Please,” he said, “I want you to feel good, mesh’la. Use me, please, use me, please…”
You were sure your brain short circuited. With no more patience left in your bones, you picked up the pace and chased your own orgasm, knowing he wasn’t far behind. With every squelch of your pussy on his cock, your moans became less coherent, and you leaned your head forward against his neck.
Pulling back to press a kiss to his jaw, you felt his loins tense beneath you. Something nearly snapped inside you at the sound and sight and sensation of his pleasure so close to release; at the knowledge that it was you who had done this to him. “Good,” you mumbled against his jaw, getting closer to his ear. “Pretty boy, just for me,” you mumbled.
Din’s chest tightened and his moans became longer and more high-pitched, true whimpers if you’d ever heard one. “Mesh’la,” he begged, “Mesh’la, I—”
You dipped your head down and, while grinding your hips back and forth on his cock at a feverish pace, you darted your tongue out to his neck. Licking a stripe from the crevice of his neck to the spot just behind the soft part of his ear, you groaned in his ear as you crumbled on him, releasing the tension in your body as you came hard.
Din was ruined beneath you, with his neck bobbing and his eyes shut, his head thrown back. Mouth opened in a wide moan, his voice broken over the sound, you felt his release sink into your fluttering walls. He let out a deep cry of words that you didn’t recognize, but you blushed all the same. With the way that his eyes glossed over when he said it, you were sure it was something that reeked of sin and sweat and sacrilege.
“So good,” you mumbled again, “you’ve done so good for me, Din.” Your face tucked itself into the crook of his neck, and you inhaled the heady scent that belonged only to him. You sat motionless on his lap, but you could still feel his head pulse inside you at the overstimulation. “Did that feel good?” you asked, your hand reaching up to smooth down his hair comfortingly.
He let out a breathless laugh. “If this is sin, I’ll want more of it,” he replied, his arms snaking around your middle to tug your chest closer to him. “I’ll never know how to thank you,” he finished, sighing deeply. His eyes twinkled at you when you pulled away to look at him.
You shook your head. “No need,” you assured him. “Just catch your breath, brave Mandalorian. Then we’ll talk.”
He nodded, his eyelids growing heavier with the expense of energy now catching up with him. His cock had grown soft inside you, but he made no move to lift you from him. “I did well?” he asked. This wasn’t surprising; you’d known him to be quietly confident, but the Mandalorian was never one to pass up the opportunity for someone to reassure his talents.
You grinned and leaned forward to press your lips to his hooked nose, fighting the urge to nip at it with your teeth. Next time, you reminded yourself. “You did well,” you nodded. “Feeling okay?”
He splayed his hands on your back and inhaled near your chest, his face buried into the soft skin of your breasts. “Never better,” he reassured you, rubbing his hands along your spine. “So sweet to me, baby,” he murmured, repeating your own affection back to you.
The two of you remained like that, just wrapped together in a mess of limbs and sweat and come mingling together. When he began to wince with the overstimulation, you lifted off of his cock but remained in his lap. You pulled back and leaned your forehead against his. You watched his lips, plump and sitting perfectly, waiting to be kissed again.
“What does mesh’la mean?” you asked instead, the word strange and unfamiliar on your tongue.
He looked at you for a long time, bringing a finger up to trace the line of your mouth. “Put your lips on mine again and I’ll teach you,” he offered casually, as if his pupils weren’t still blown wide, his eyelashes still fluttering from the power of his release.
You smirked. “This is the Way, huh?”
For once in his life, Din Djarin smiled at you. “This is the Way.”
tysm for reading! so glad to be back, i'm sorry if the smut scene seemed rushed and out of pace! again: i was hungover. pls forgive. lemme know what you think!
adding tags here cause i'm going grocery shopping at 8:30pm BYEEEE
this is a good morning fic for @thetriumphantpanda and the aftercare bit at the end was specifically for @cavillscurls i know u crave it girl
the rest of the taggies: @mingiast @iluvurfather @cupofjoel @morning-star-joy @darkroastjoel @tightjeansjavi @chaotic-mystery @dinsdjrn @huffle-punk @tommymilllers @milly-louise @struig @butiknewyoudlinger @alejaa-a @worhols @thegreat-annamaria @easaud @country2212 @sleepdeprived-feelalived @pertinentpostmortem @lailaispunk
#din djarin smut#din djarin x reader#din djarin x f!reader#virgin!din djarin#din djarin x experienced!reader#the mandalorian fic#the mandalorian fanfiction#mandalorian#star wars#star wars smut#star wars fic
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Part two for this one. I'm sorry for the cliffhanger in the first part. The illustration is from the amazing @ave661 .
--
Four months. That’s how much time it took Simon to get out of that hazy fugue state. He didn’t really remember what he had gone through during that time, his brain switched to autopilot after the breakup. He often wondered why it affected him this much when he didn’t even love you. You were just someone he spent time with, someone he tried to play house with for a short while to feel normal.
Still, now as he lay on his bed, watching the ceiling fan rotate to stir up the hot air in the room, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He even found himself opening a social media app to search for your name from a fake account he had set up a long time ago, and he was shocked to see the most recent photo of you. It was impossible to miss the unmistakable shape of a baby bump under your shirt, and based on its size, you got pregnant long months ago.
When he was finally allowed to go home for a short while, Simon went to see you. He knew he had hurt you, he knew you were probably still mad at him, but he had to know if it was his child. It only happened one time. One night when he tried to fix things by giving you what you wanted, hoping sex could make him see you in another light. Maybe he would finally want you the way you always wanted him to want you. But it didn’t work, and it was after that night he made the final decision to end things with you.
“What do you want?” you asked him when you opened the door.
Simon nodded as he bit the inside of his cheek. This cold welcome was fair enough, he deserved this kind of treatment. Normally, he would have left you alone. But normally, you would have told him you were pregnant.
So he silently pointed at your belly and waited for you to realize what he wanted. He knew you weren't dumb, the pieces would fall into place in a second. And sure enough, you let out a sigh then opened the door wider to let him in.
“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked you as he stood in the kitchen next to you with his arms crossed.
You were busy making him a cup of tea, but you took the time to silently shrug. When he let out a heavy sigh, you looked over at him and said, “I didn't think you'd care, Si. Simple as that.”
You were right. He didn't care. Even now that he was looking at you, his eyes occasionally moving to the bump that hid his own blood, his mind was somewhere else. He was a soldier, he knew how to take responsibility for his actions. You getting pregnant was his fault too. He couldn't just ignore the problem.
“I’ll pay child support,” he assured you.
“No need.”
Simon reached out to put a hand on the base of your neck, but you quickly pushed his hand away before he could touch your skin. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
You inhaled through your nose and held your breath in for a few seconds before finally exhaling. “So what? You’re gonna be around and help us? Take her to a doctor’s appointment or for a stroll around the block?” When you saw him looking down at his shoes, you couldn’t help but snort. “Thought so,” you said.
“I’ll better get going. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
Months flew by, but Simon barely noticed. He was on a mission again far from home, risking his life as usual. You never called and he didn’t force it. He accepted that he would have to live with the guilt of making this happen. Since you didn’t want to accept child support, he opened a bank account where he stored that money, hoping that one day he could give it to you or his daughter when she became old enough.
One day he checked your social media accounts like he had done a few times before, just to see how you were. This is when he saw the post in which you announced the arrival of your baby girl. He didn’t make a big deal out of it at first. She was born and she would probably ask about her father one day. If he was still alive then, he would gladly give her a toned down explanation. If not… Well, he left everything to her in his will.
Eventually he began to save the photos of his daughter and he often found himself looking at them. She was adorable, some of her features resembling his own. Her big brown eyes were definitely his; the color and the shape were both so familiar to him.
No one from the team knew about this part of his life. He had never told anyone, because why would he? They were close, they were his brothers, but you and your daughter were carefully guarded secrets in his life. Simon knew the real reason why he never talked about you; he was afraid of the judgmental looks and words.
Two months later, when he entered his apartment again after another round of deployment, Simon didn't really know what to do with himself. He ended up looking at his daughter's photos more and more often and eventually he made up his mind to give her a visit. It had absolutely nothing to do with you. He was doing this for the little girl.
You weren't welcoming but, once again, he couldn't blame you. “I just want to see my daughter,” he said softly, hoping the two of you could avoid fighting.
For long moments you were cautiously watching him, as if you were trying to decide if he could be trusted or not. But then your eyes fell on the big teddy bear he was holding with one hand and you let out a sigh of defeat.
On the way to the nursery, you didn't talk at all. The silence didn't bother him, but still he would have appreciated some words about the little girl he was about to meet. Was he allowed to pick her up? Did she like to be held? How was she? Did she have stomach ache often? Were she teething?
“Be quick,” you warned him when you stopped by her crib.
Simon let out a sigh. “Come on, don't be like that.”
You just rolled your eyes at him before taking a step back to lean your shoulder against the doorframe, arms folded over your chest, eyes watching his every move like a hawk. He found it a little too much, he hated that you didn't trust him. Sure, he hadn't given you many reasons to trust him, but for the sake of your daughter you should have tried.
With a sigh, he rested an elbow on the side of the crib and reached out to touch the baby as gently as he could with his other hand. His own flesh and blood. It was amazing, really. Without asking for permission, he picked her up and couldn't help but smile when the baby smiled at him.
Now that he was holding her close to his body, placing soft kisses on her head every so often, Simon couldn't deny that he already loved his daughter. There was an invisible string between them, something that brought her closer to him that anyone has ever been.
The baby giggled suddenly and it brought an even wider smile to Simon’s face. He could only hope you would let him see her as often as he could visit, but something told him it wouldn't be easy to convince you.
“She likes you,” you suddenly noted.
He put down the little girl then turned to you. “The feeling's mutual.” A faint smile appeared on your lips. “Can I see her some other time?” You nodded. “Thank you. If I can help with anything, just give me a call or send a message. I'll get back to you as soon as I can,” he offered.
You been to walk out of the room and he quietly followed you, waiting for you to say something. He didn't really know what he was expecting to hear, but he had a feeling you were holding back something. And sure enough, after a few minutes of silence you began to talk, scolding him for not even bothering to send at least a text to ask about her before suddenly showing up.
“I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd read them.”
“I'm mad at you, that's true,” you agreed.
Simon leaned against the doorframe as he watched you pace in the living room like a caged animal. He remembered those nights he had spent thinking about on deployment, the moment he saw that photo of you, and he realized that maybe he was missing you.
But how could he miss someone he didn't even love? Or had he developed feelings for you, feelings he tried to hide even from himself? It was way too confusing for him, and he didn't like to be confused. It was a weakness on the field and in his civilian life.
“I should go. If you need anything–”
You came to a halt, turned to him and nodded. “I know where to find you. But can I ask you something?” Simon motioned you to go on. “Why now? Why did you become interested in her all of a sudden?”
He let out a thoughtful hum as he put his hand on the back of his neck. “I saw the photos, how much she looks like me, and… I don't know.” You took a few steps closer to him, but you still kept a comfortable distance. “I've been saving money for her. I want to give you access to that bank account.”
“I don't need your money,” you were quick to say.
“It's for her. Please, accept it.”
You became mad at him, accusing him of assuming you couldn't take care of your daughter you'd been raising on your own from day one. He knew there was no point in defending himself, you were too lost in the hate you felt for him. So he just waited there in silence, letting you finish your speech.
Then, the moment you seemingly finished, he closed the gap between the two of you. He didn't know what he was doing, he just followed his instinct when he leaned down and kissed you. This was probably the first time he truly enjoyed kissing you, and it helped a lot that you were quick to return it.
Maybe this was why he wanted to come here today. To fix things. To try to get a family he'd been craving ever since he lost his own.
(part three)
#ghost#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#call of duty#simon riley#mw2#mw3#modern warfare#simon riley x reader
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