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donutloverxo · 2 days

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Hello,

Congrates again Sweetie, you really deserves it ❤️

I don't know how many asks we can send and I had so many ideas of combinations

I am sending two of them depending on what's inspiring you. If both of them inspire you, it's even better. 🤭

🥳😶❤️ Steve Rogers

👇🕯😈 Jake Jensen

Good luck 😘

Okay this is definitely a brain teaser

but still, I'm going to go with 🥳😶❤️ Steve Rogers, because this reminded me of an idea I once had...

Disguise

Captain America!Steve Rogers x You

Warning: A little cursing but that's all.

Summary: It's your first mission, and Captain America has told you to disguise yourself. You've followed that order to a "T".

A/N: Hiya! Sorry it took so long to get it out :( I have to say, originally I wanted to write a short drabble where Steve was teaching her a lesson, but then I wondered, why is she on this mission in the first place? and I can't control this drabble which turned into a ~2k one-shot....

"... and the last item on our agenda," Maria took a brief stop from her briefing and looked around the room like a hawk, scanning everyone with her sharp eyes until they landed on the selected few, "congratulations on our fellow analysts who have applied for the field agent assistant position and passed the final test."

With a few claps from the fellow analysts, she paused again, waiting until the claps died down before quickly gathering her thoughts and assigned a few missions to three other analyst/field agent assistant, "And Y/N, I will brief you for your next mission, please stay for a few more minutes after this meeting. The rest of you, keep up the good work. You are dismissed."

It had been an eventful six months with all of your trainings - basically starting up from the ground up, no previous experience being an agent whatsoever - but you made it till the end, even though barely passing all the bars that are required for a field agent assistant. You felt very lucky as field agent assistant only requires 60% of what full-time agents can achieve, and watching your once muscle-lacking arms and legs, now turned out to be somewhat of an amateur wrestler, half of a professional boxer, and a sprinkle of assassin (thanks to Clint for his dart training).

You felt good about yourself. Truly, good.

Maria handed you a slim brown folder with a few pages in it. Opening it with sheer curiosity, you hear Maria picking out a few important points to brief: "There is rumored to be a highly dangerous neurotoxin in the black-market with more than a dozen buyers interested. This mission would be an undercover job in Venice, where the said toxin would be sold to the highest bidder."

The first page had a few sentences of what the said toxin could do. It evaporates soon but kills just as quickly. Victim's skin turned purple in contact with this chemical, looking as if they had suffocated to death. Word on the street? It was responsible for the terrorist attack in Paris last month.

"You would be posing as Mrs. Anna Dashevsky, wife of Mr. Vlad Dashevsky, the notorious couple of wreaking havoc: the train accident in Germany, the bombing in L.A., and a few other dozen of suspected murders and attacks. We have apprehended them both from their Belarus safe house twenty-four hours ago, safe to say that your cover would not be blown since the auction is fully anonymous." Maria had her skeptical look on you, her cold voice brought chills to your spine, "Unless of course, you got made."

"No, I won't, Ma'am." You replied on instinct, knowing fully well that the danger of arms dealers and terrorists gathering in such an auction could possibly be the end of your career - and your life as well, which was why you took a glance at the page of Mr. and Mrs. Dashevsky, making a mental note of the couple's information.

"Good. I shall hope not." Maria gestured you to turn the file to the next page, "You would be working with an Avenger for this mission. Your task is to provide tactical analytic support on the ground. Locate the position of the toxin, get it out, our team would be picking you up two miles south of the venue -" She pointed to a red cross marked on the map, "which is this bridge. If you missed the rendezvous, retreat to the safehouse." Her fingers tapped the red circle on the corner of the map, "Proceed as Protocol 4-12 Agent in Distress."

You scanned over the map to remember the extraction routes, noticing that these are the only pages in the thin folder, "There's no teammate information - am I going in there as Anna alone, or ...?"

Maria shook her head lightly, "You would be greeted by your teammate once you land in Venice, and your teammate would be posing as Vlad, your husband - I noticed you've got a B+ in Russian?" Seeing that you've nodded in confidence, Maria continued, "Good. Practice your Russian, might be handy. Your flight takes off at Runway Charlie in thirty minutes, I'd suggest you head off to the equipment room right now for the gadgets."

"Yes, Ma'am." You dared not linger a second more and headed straight to the equipment room.

First mission on the ground. You could not be more excited.

Turned out, you could. When the famous Captain America greeted you once your plane had landed on a small airstrip in the outskirt of Padova. Where he was leaning by a smooth silver sedan with a fake nose and a fake moustache.

You almost did not recognise him until he spoke.

"Steve." He introduced himself briefly, extending his hand for you to shake. Didn't take much to know the only one named "Steve" existing in the Avengers team was Steve Frigging Rogers, Captain America himself, the golden boy of the States, and the man with the plan.

"Hi! I'm Anna." You put down your briefcase of trinkery, took his hand and shook with a firmer grip than you had imagined. "Well, my name isn't Anna," You smiled apologetically, "It's ..."

"I know, Y/N." He chuckled, opening the car door for you, gesturing for you to sit, "I've got the files Maria sent. We'll talk on the way."

Yeesh, such gentleman. You bit back the grin and sat in the passenger's seat, while he put the case into the backseat.

The drive from Padova to Venice took about forty minutes, during which he briefed you the latter half of the information required. You switched to one of those little boats - which Italian name you still couldn't pronounce - on entering Venice, by that time you were picking up something casual to talk about, just in case the toxin seller had eyes and ears around the potential buyers.

"First time leaving the office, huh?" He teased you lightly, rubbing small circles around your shoulder blade, pretending to be intimate as he spoke softly.

"Yeah." You murmured, clasping and un-clasping your hand due to obvious nervousness, "It's the first time, well ... ever."

"It's okay." Steve smiled warming, practically glowing kindness when he offered to soothe your nerves, "I'd say you would forget about it ..." He shrugged, "But then I would be lying. Truth is, it's always frightening for the first time, but you will be fine." Steve beamed at you, scratching his fake nose, which you thought must be some kind of silicone that created authentic skin-like appearance, "Just give it time."

Your destination was the safehouse marked on the map. After Steve tipped the boat guy generously, he made sure no one was lurking before tugging a key out of his pocket and opened the door.

Maybe it was your expression that betrayed you, because Steve read something from your looks and grinned, "You want to ask me something? Go ahead."

You're that obvious? But you decided it was best to follow orders.

"This safe house doesn't look so ... safe." You commented, "How are we supposed to defend ourselves, if it comes to ... you know," you chuckled drily, "shooting and stuff?"

Steve seemed stunned for a moment, before really taking a good look at the plain wooden floor and the almost ancient decor in the kitchen, the rusty oven, the missing cabinet door, the whole lot suggesting this place hadn't been set foot in years.

"What, this?" His brows furrowed into a knot, as if seeing completely different things.

You nervously waited for his reply.

"Oh..." Realization hit him as he slapped himself on the forehead, pressing a button below the kitchen table, "You mean ... this."

The noise of machine operating out of nowhere startled you, almost immediately sent you into a defensive position. But as the old crappy oven flipped to the other side and showed an array of guns, bullets, knives, and tasers, the dusty kitchen table pulled the planks to its side and revealed a huge tactical screen, and the fireplace tugged a secret passageway open for an escape route, your jaw fell on the floor.

"I might have told Tony about the whole disguise idea for the safe houses and uh," Steve chuckled, "He and Bruce took it way too seriously. Probably got a bit carried away too."

"One little problem, though," You raised your index finger and swiped a line along the greasy stove, making a face, "I don't think there's anything we can find here to eat ...?"

"Don't worry about that." Steve waved his hand dismissively, "We won't be here more than an hour before heading to the auction place. There's a full wardrobe and weaponry upstairs, first door on the right - but I'm sure you have already got plenty in your case - But by all means, take half an hour to adjust, rest, grab what you need, and I want us out of here by an hour. That sounds good?"

"Good. Okay. Thumbs up." You confirmed and headed upstairs with your suitcase, only to close the bedroom door and squeal into your palms.

O.M.FUCKING.GEE!

Captain America. In the living flesh!

On your first-ever mission!

Three soft knocks came through the thin wooden door.

"You alright in there?"

"I'm okay Cap - I mean, Vlad!" You called out, realizing as soon as you spoke that your voice was hoarse than usual.

"Careful there. The wardrobe door is on the left-hand side. Give me a shout if you need anything."

After that, small trotting noises, probably from the footsteps of Steve Rogers going downstairs.

Left-hand side? You eyed the dusty place curiously, poking and prodding the moldy wallpaper. You didn't see any wardrobe, other than -

Your nail bore contact with a piece of metal, from which a grey-ish camera leapt out of the wall, and nearly hit your hand.

It scanned your face, before emitting that rumbling Transformer noise again, revealing a wall full of weapons, money, and of course, clothes and wigs for disguises.

You gasped at the brand-new Magnums on the wall. You took your word back. This was the safest house in the fucking galaxy.

"Ta-da-" You walked down the stairs, "What do you think, Ca - Vlad?"

Steve had his gaze pinned on you for a moment. His expression was close to blank, which was giving you a hard time figuring out what he was thinking.

"Am I overdoing it?" You clenched the collar of your coat nervously, "Anna - I mean, I came from a Slavic root, so this is ... alright? No?"

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting the corner of his lips from the uncontrollable grin. "I would say, that this outfit is ... " He tried hard not to laugh, "It's good, great. Could use a few ... improvements, though."

You were wearing a thick fur coat and a fur hat, sunglasses too, dressing up like a polar bear rolled over in red and brown paint.

"Just because the Dashevsky's are from Slavic roots doesn't mean we have to dress up as good-ole fashioned Russian villains." Steve helped you take off the thick fur coat, smiling to himself, "We still have some time. Care to go through Disguise 101 with me?"

Find Jammy's 500 Follower's Celebration here 👈

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donutloverxo · 2 days

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𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅-𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲 | 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛

A/N - If I do decide to write this, it’s going to be challenging since I do not use swear words in my writing (and Ben does) but hey, comment if you’re interested!

“I stood by you.” I whispered, looking at him in the green eyes I’d known for so long. They’d changed. Evolved, with how much we’d both been through. “I’ll always stand by you, but I’ve gotta do it on my own terms.” I ran a hand through my hair, hollowing my cheeks out as I swallowed dry. That hand then swept down my mouth and over my bottom lip before landing in my lap. “I ain’t happy with who I am, Ben. Who I became.”

“Shut it. There’s nothin’ wrong with you… nor me.” Ben growled, looking away and his tone rough, like it always was when he was this defensive. “We were doing our jobs. We were… are leading a team, just like the old days. Ain’t nothing wrong with that, is there? No, there isn’t, in case you were about to talk back. Damn modern days and all the useless, feminist crap it put in that pretty little head.”

“Our job was and is to serve and protect, I know that much.” I frowned, looking away for a hot second. “But we’ve destroyed ourselves for the sake of the job. You were betrayed by your team and everything went goddamn south. I was fine not being at the forefront of everything. I was happy not fighting Homelander. I had a life. But the moment, the moment I get a call from Butcher saying that you needed me, I came for you. I came for you! And we went down like the frickin’ Titanic. All that talk about saving me from mundane, unnecessary things like social interactions and a stable job… but what if I didn’t need saving?”

“Yes, you did!” He stood up, towering over me with his eyes looking like they had a forest fire going on in them. “I remember our days fightin’ Commies, and you’d take hits but you stood up and hit those bastards back until they couldn’t even walk. I remember when you’d kill first, ask questions later. That version of you is the one I need. To win my fight.”

“Is that why you need me?” I scoffed, rubbing my forehead. “For the fight and nothing else? I remember our days where we were friends. Even if we were sitting in silence, smokin’ blunts- we did it. We shared smiles on the battlefield. Where we’d crack open a whiskey bottle and criticise whatever we wanted to. We’ve changed!”

“For the better!”

“Is that what you believe?” I searched his face for one sign that he thought it was true. “That your revenge-driven craze was for the better? Against Mallory? Butcher, who got me to bust you out after tellin’ me that you were taken? We destroyed ourselves, Ben!”

“For the job!” He retorted, grabbing my chin roughly. “You’re supposed to support me, that’s what we’ve always done.” In retaliation, my eyes glowed red, sending a sharp pain through his head that forced him to let me go. I rubbed where he grabbed me with heavy breaths leaving my mouth, a small growl at the end of it. The audacity of this man.

“We didn’t destroy ourselves for the job. We destroyed ourselves because we could. I was happy without a fight, and now? You got me addicted to it.” I bit my lip, then took a deep breath. “And I want out.”

“You don’t get an out.”

“I ain’t givin’ you a choice.”

“If you walk out that door…” Ben got up close, his jaw set like stone and stature imposing, like it’d always been, “don’t you ever come back… you’re dead to me. You’re goddamn dead.”

“If that’s how it’s gonna go, fine.” I nodded, then swept my hand down my mouth, steeling my expression. I was losing my oldest friend. My co-leader. The man who told me it was always him and I, no matter what. This is how it ends. “I’m dead to you.”

“Leave.”

I dug my heel into the ground, turning on it and walking straight out. I walked and I didn’t look back, even if the urge clawed at my neck to do it. I never thought it’d come to this point, but I guess the good things don’t last forever, and I learnt it far too late. I’d have to fight the proper way, I’d have to fight smart, and not by Ben’s terms. Not like Soldier Boy. I’d have to take this on the right way.

I pulled out my phone, dialling a number and putting it to my ear as I walked into the open road, down the pavement and looking up at the clear blue sky, which I rather envied as my head was clouded with the thoughts of every passer-by and their dumbass decisions to buy a doughnut or go for a walk in the park. “It’s me. I’m in.”

LMK if you want this to become a series, guys!

Luv, Arty :)

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donutloverxo · 5 days

Text

HALF OF ME (i)

SUMMARY: Despite appearances, you’d learnt Soldier Boy was, actually, capable of being a good man. Somehow, you’d wormed yourself into his good books, and had the rarest privilege of seeing him without the suit, the drugs, the ego, the everything. Just as things were going good, his heart somehow getting even warmer for you, the world separates you in the cruelest way.

PAIRING: Soldier Boy x Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3573

WARNINGS: Sexism (set in the 1980’s), typical Soldier Boy behaviour, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, questionable morals (peer pressuring drug use), sexual content, eludes to smut, Soldier Boy may be a bit OOC at times, gore.

SERIES MASTERLIST / MAIN MASTERLIST

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

Becoming a world famous supe was never something you’d ever wanted. Sure, you’d grown up with their photos on your bedroom walls, your father telling you stories of when the first ever supe came to be, insisting he fought alongside the Soldier Boy in the war

The people around you seemed to idolise them. These… mostly regular people in tight suits, pretending to be better than everyone else.

You knew better. You knew enough. Enough to know supes were dirty, and corrupt, and definitely not the heroes they presented themselves to be. That their hands were more blood than they were skin anymore.

And, frankly, you wanted nothing to do with Vought or Payback — or whatever the fuck those shitty, useless superhero teams were called. (Seriously, what did they actually do? Except sit in their pretty tower and take the peoples’ taxes?)

Your father, however, had different ideas.

So, at 18, you woke up in the hospital, after an ugly head collision, with superpowers you’d never had before. A miracle, the doctors called it, a supe whose extraordinary powers had been hidden for her whole life. When you got home, you forced the truth out of your father. Compound V, he called it, a new chemical made by Vought.

No one was born a supe, he admitted, it all came from a liquid in a vial. The truth hurt you, as much as it didn’t really surprise you. Chosen by God, my ass.

This wasn’t supposed to be your life.

But it’s certainly what it turned out to be.

Payback were as shitty, if not more, than you’d originally thought. Each of them had… many flaws. Soldier Boy, obviously, was the worst. If the Devil reincarnated himself, he’d look and act like Soldier Boy.

Simply talking to the man made you want to shoot yourself.

Well… it did at one point.

Two years down the line, things had changed. Soldier Boy was still insufferable, sexist, arrogant, and a major asshole. But… he wasn’t so much a dick directly to you, as he used to be. In fact, if you didn’t know better, you’d say he was actually somewhat nice to you. As much as his macho heart could manage, anyway.

You noticed it the first time when he saved your life on a mission. He’d grabbed your waist when a grenade clinked at your feet, whirling you around and to the ground, squashing you against his firm chest, using his shield to protect you both from the hot blast. He’d shrugged it off as nothing; as something any leader would do for his team. Then you watched him hit Gunpowder about for not following his order to a T, and realised… maybe he did treat you different.

It was undeniable these days.

You were the only person on Payback that Soldier Boy could remotely tolerate.

“You need’a be more careful.” Despite the hard look on his face, Soldier Boy was staring down at you, as a Vought doctor wrapped clean bandages tightly around your midsection. It was a bullet to the wound; which, with being a supe, wouldn’t be too bad, but you didn’t heal inhumanely fast like he did. “You’re fuckin’ useless when you’re hurt.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for your concern, Soldier Boy.”

His eyes narrowed into a harsh glare. “Ben.” He corrected you, for what was probably the 50th time. Each time he did, he got more annoyed with you. “How many times do I have to say it? Is there a brain in that pretty head’a’yours?“

You grunted, spinning on the bed and hanging your legs off the side of it. “Thanks for the compliment.” Ben rolled his eyes at your sarcasm, not offering a hand as you groaned in discomfort and got to your feet. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be healed up by the time we set off for Nicaragua, if that’s what you’re worried ‘bout.”

Ben just grunted, displeased. “Ain’t happenin’.” He immediately shot that idea down. “We leave for Nicaragua next week. You ain’t comin’. Sit this one out.”

You stared, expecting a joke. Clearly, he wasn’t. “Seriously?” You groaned, unhappy. What was it with this guy? “I’ll be fine. It’s a silly little bullet.”

“I was holdin’ your fuckin’ guts in your body.” He walked away, reminding you of just how bad your injury actually had been. He had, indeed, practically been keeping your guts inside of you as you bled out. “You ain’t going. You’re stayin’ here.” You chased after him, pulling your shirt on as you left the infirmary.

“Ben—“

He whirled around to face you. “I said, you’re fucking staying.” He growled, glaring down at you. God, were you glad you were on his side. This man was terrifying. Six feet of pure muscle, strength and violence. “You’re better off here, using that face of yours to get some PR.”

“And, what? The others will back you up?” You scoffed, grabbing his wrist as he went to walk away again. His expression went cold at your touch, but you didn’t flinch. As much as he tried to scare you, Ben wouldn’t raise a hand at you… probably. You had faith in the man. “They can’t fight for shit, Ben. Gunpowder hasn’t even discovered his own dick yet. You think you’re gonna have your back covered out there?”

He ripped his wrist away harshly. “I don’t need my back covered.”

“Everyone needs their back covered.” You argued. “Even you.”

He chuckled, sarcastic and dry. “You worried ‘bout me, princess?” You gave him a ‘seriously?’ look, as he took a step closer, mouth curled into that ever-infuriating smirk. “I’d perform better if you sent me off with a taste of that—“

“Ben.” You interrupted him, unimpressed. You rolled his eyes at his predictable behaviour. “I’m not gonna fuck morale into you.”

“Shame.” His eyes flicked up and down, tracing the curves of your body. “Bet you’d be a firecracker.” He walked away again, and you threw your hands up, groaning. Ben chuckled as he turned the corner. “Think it over, sweetheart.”

“You’ve got a hand.” You called back to him. “Use it!”

Conversations like that were very common with Ben.

It’d be a normal conversation (as normal as it gets with him) — and then he’d start talking about fucking you against the nearest surface, and all pleasantries went down the drain. Seriously, he thought 80% with his dick, and 20% with his actual brain.

And that was being kind.

But, beneath all of his macho assholery, was his genuine worry. You knew he wasn’t letting you accompany the rest of the team to Nicaragua because of your injury, despite how minor it was, and that he was worried you’d injure yourself further.

He was just… shit it showing it.

Poor bastard wouldn’t know emotion if it slapped him in the face.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

“I am not wearing this.”

Okay… scratch all of that. Maybe Ben was just a dickhead.

He lounged back in his chair, grinning lazily, legs spread like he owned the place. He probably thought he did. “Why not?” He took a sip of his whiskey, ice clinking against the sides, eyes never leaving you from over the rim of the glass.

You held up the fabric. “Seriously?”

It was basically a scrap of fabric, with how much it covered up. You didn’t shy away from showing skin. You quite liked short skirts and pushing the line. Because, as a supe, there was a line. Vought liked it when you showed skin — apparently it made your ratings go up with the male fans, no shocker. But, too much skin on display, the male fans started calling you a whore, and the ratings shot back down.

It was a bit like a balancing game, trying to find the perfect amount of skin to make the boys ogle but also respect you. An impossible feat, truthfully.

And this? This was definitely classed as too much.

“I don’t see the issue.” His smirk said otherwise.

“My tits are not gonna stay in this, Ben!”

His smirk just grew. “Again, I don’t see the issue.”

You groaned and put the dress down. “No. I’ll get my own dress. I am not wearing that.” You tell him, arms folding across your chest. You didn’t miss the way he checked out your tits, and the way the placement of your arms accentuated them.

He rolled his eyes, obviously not happy with your decision. Leaning towards, elbows on his knees, Ben’s eyes took you in. “Why?” His head cocked to the side. “You’d look hot. It’d make your ass look great.”

“That’s not a compliment.” You grumbled, pushing a hand through your hair. Ben made a small grunt of disagreement, but didn’t say anything otherwise. “Listen, there’s a certain line. Alright? If I wear that, every guy out there will be callin’ me a whore. Okay? Imma find something else.”

He hummed and sat back. “I think you should wear that one.” Sighing heavily, you just rolled your eyes at his persistence. “All those assholes will be blowin’ their pants just lookin’ at you, sweetheart.”

“Again, not a compliment.”

Ben stared at you, and silently took another sip of his whiskey. He always seemed to think these crude, rather sexist and inappropriate remarks were compliments. Like commenting on your body. Or saying you’d be a freak in bed. Which were obviously not actually compliments.

You rolled your eyes, rubbing your forehead. “I’ll find another dress, Ben.” You told him, definitive. There was no way he was going to convince you to wear that dress.

“What a disappointment.” He grinned, lopsided. “I was lookin’ forward to seein’ you in that dress.”

“Again,” you deadpanned as he checked you out once more, “you have a hand… use it.”

Ben just smirked, and sipped his whiskey again.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

You wore the fucking dress.

The asshole always won. Always.

He looked so fucking pleased, as you walked into his after-party, wearing the dress he’d picked out for you. His smugness was clear, brushing through the crowd with ease to come to you.

Ben hummed, eyes dilating as he stared you down. His eyes lingered on your tits, as they always did. “You look…” he hesitated, trying to think of a compliment that wasn’t degrading, and failed, “fuckin’ hot. If you weren’t such a bitch, I’d bend you over right here.”

Your face pulled together in disgust, looking at him with your lips pressed together “… gross.”

He chuckled. “Drink?” He offered. “I got your favourite.”

And there he goes again.

Being nice.

It did your damn head in.

Accepting his offer, you shivered as his large hand landed on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd. They all seemed to part like the Red Sea as he came through, a fact that amused you greatly.

Seriously. These women looked at him like he was Jesus reincarnated, when he’d totally call them in a whore in bed.

Ben silently reached out for your favourite alcoholic drink, pouring it into a glass. His eyes scanned over the room, smirking at a few of the women ogling, sending them rushing to their friends and squealing. He merely chuckled and handed you the full glass.

“Thanks.” You murmured, taking it from him. Your eyes stared up at him for a moment, curious, before looking away again.

What was it with him? How could be such an egotistical one minute, and then be nice and respectful the next? It was like a guessing game, trying to figure out what mood he was in.

He grabbed your wrist, his grip firm, but not enough to hurt you. “Come with me.” He guided you through the crowd once again, to the doors in the back. As he pushed through into the room, he flashed you a cocky grin over his shoulder. Dickhead.

This room was far quieter. You noticed, immediately, the only people present were supes and celebrities, not the random civilians that’d been granted a pity invite — or the women Ben thought were hot. This was the main party. There were drugs covering every table, with various big names passed out on the chairs, blazed.

Ben lead you to the corner, where he’d obviously already been busy, if the half-snorted lines of cocaine proved anything.

Silently, he offered you a line, which you gratefully accepted.

You didn’t do drugs before you joined Payback. In fact, you’d avoided them, promising yourself you’d never become that type of person. But it was the norm within Vought. Every supe spent their nights filling their bodies to the brim with various drugs, poisoning themselves. So, you started smoking weed to fit in.

Then Ben found out you only did weed, and decided it wasn’t enough. With enough pressure, he’d gotten you onto any other substance he could convince you to try.

It made you more attractive, in his eyes, as you spiralled into addiction like him.

In fact, it got him rock hard, to snort lines or share a joint with you. It was so fucking hot, watching your eyes glass over as you got higher with every hit, with every line. God, it turned him on so bad.

You snorted your third line of the night, when Ben suddenly pushed you back into your chair. Bewildered, you stared at him, as he snatched up a baggie of the white powder. Your heart leapt to your throat, the moment he moved aside the slit in your dress, revealing the bare skin of your thigh. All breath left your lungs, watching him pour some of the powder onto your thigh.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

He was about to do a line off you.

He glanced at you through his lashes, smirking at the shocked and flushed expression you wore. He used his pocket knife to cut the lines, mindful of the sharp blade against your soft skin.

God, this was hot. He found it hot. You found it hot. It’d be a damn miracle if you ended the night with your clothes on at this point.

Your skin tingled as he sniffed up the first line, of his hands roughly gripping the top of your thigh to steady you, his other holding a rolled up $100 bill. He groaned in pleasure, body physically shuddering, head shaking, as the drug made his body run hot.

He did the next line, the grip on your thigh becoming tighter as his pupils began to blow up.

Was it getting hot in here? Or was it just you?

Maybe it was the cocaine in your systems, maybe it was the fact Ben was just… so damn hot, but you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing his hair and forcing his head up as he snorted the final line off your thigh.

He looked up at you, pupils blown, lips parted. Holy shit. This man was sculpted like a fucking God. Your body shivered. “You finally takin’ my offer, sweetheart?” He chuckled, shaking off the immediate effects of the cocaine, raising himself up to your level.

“Fuck me.” You whispered, breathless, practically begging him.

His eyes went dark, almost black, with lust. The smirk on his lips made you squeeze your legs together. “Don’t need to ask me twice.”

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

You understood the hype now. You understood why women bent their knees the moment Ben uttered a word to them.

Holy shit, did this man have talent.

Your legs were still twitching, the space in between your legs throbbing and tingling with how many times you’d come on his fingers, his tongue and cock. You’d counted four, before your vision had gone white.

Jesus, he had stamina. A glance at the clock on the wall confirmed it’d been just over five hours since you’d first fell into Ben’s bed. That super strength was better for more than just fighting, after all. This man should be advertised for his abilities. No shocker he was an American sex symbol.

He’d just fucked your brains out.

And now, he was staring at you with admiration, laid on his side, in the same bed he’d just railed you in. “You feelin’ okay?” He murmured, genuinely concerned.

“Yeah.” You rolled over to face him, a jolt of discomfort and pain in your hips and thighs. You might have to hold back on… doing anything for the next few days, however. “You didn’t break anything.” You joked, soft and breathy.

He chuckled quietly, hand sliding around your waist and dragging you closer to him. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waitin’ to do that.” He whispered, uncharacteristically soft and gentle.

“To fuck me senseless?”

He smirked. “Mm, I have dreamt of that.” Your eyes narrowed in mild disgust at the image of him having wet dreams about you, swatting his chest. He grinned and caught your hand. “No… I meant how long I’ve waited to have you. You’re fuckin’ perfect. Not just your body. Everything about you is so sexy.”

Your brows furrowed, squeezing his hand, and then worming your fingers out of his. “What do you mean?” You asked softly.

He seemed to struggle for a moment. He wet his tongue with his lips, making your body tingle again. Jesus. “Let’s get dinner.”

What.

“Me and you.” Ben smiled, tracing the curves of your body with a featherlight touch. “Real fancy. I’ll pay.” Was he… asking you on a date right now? The Soldier Boy, asking you on a date? Instead of fucking you and tossing you out?

“You’re serious?” You asked softly, surprised. When he nodded, you grinned, biting your lip to contain it. “Okay, Ben. Let’s get dinner.”

His eyes lit up. Ducking his head down, his lips touched yours, gentle and affectionate. His kiss spoke so many words; his hands gently cradling your body, as he kissed you like you were made of glass. The touch was intimate and loving, widely different to the one he’d used when he’d been on top of you.

No, this was completely different. This was him being vulnerable. This was him showing you just how he felt, without the words.

He smiled against your lips and pulled back, just enough to speak, but his words were still brushing yours. “Yeah?” He whispered, in response to your agreement.

“Yeah.” You stared at him with big eyes.

He grinned, almost boyish in its nature. He stared at you in adoration, seeming to be collecting the words on the tip of his tongue.

You giggled under his stare. You sat up, pulling him with you, grabbing the blanket that he had draped over his headboard. It was fluffy and warm, and smelt like his cologne, and you didn’t hesitate to wrap it around your shoulders, cocooning yourself.

If possible, his gaze softened even more. “You’re adorable.”

Quietly, you laughed. “You sure you wanna do this, Ben?” You stared back at him. Ben was nothing if not a womaniser. Settling down was nothing like him. “Get serious with me, I mean.”

“You’re the only one I’d ever want to.”

Your brows pulled together, confused. “Why?”

Ben soothed a hand through your hair, green eyes drinking in the perfections and imperfections on your face. “You’re the only one I trust.” His voice was gravelly, still heavy with the effects of your recent endeavours. His hand travelled through your hair, and then came down to cup your cheek.

Wrapped up in his fluffy blanket, your head rested on the wooden headboard. “I trust you, too.” You whispered, tilting your head into his palm. His skin was rough, painted with callouses and scars. Every scar on his body had a story. And you’d spend the rest of your life learning every single one.

Despite himself, he smiled at you, thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone. “I’d kill for you. You know that?” His words made you shiver. Ben killing people wasn’t exactly new… or surprising. But doing it for you? God, it made your stomach heat up — and other parts. “These assholes don’t hold a candle to you, doll. Countess? That whore is— is repulsive compared to you.”

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes affectionately. “Ben.” You scolded quietly, though not with an ounce of anger.

The supe just smirked, chuckling deep in his throat. “You want me to drop that bullshit PR relationship I have with her? I’ll do it. In a fucking heartbeat. I’ll be with you, publicly, if you want me.”

“You’d ruin your reputation for me?” Now that — that meant something. Ben could say anything and everything; he was a master manipulator. He could get anything he wanted with that smile and his suave words. But, if there was one thing he would always prioritise, it was his reputation. He’d do anything to be the alpha male. Anything.

“I’d do anything for you.” He grabbed your hand within his much larger one, guiding it to his chest. He pressed your palm over his heart, allowing you to feel his heartbeat. “I’ll do anything for you, to be with you.” You felt the steady rhythm of his heart. He wasn’t lying. That, or he was a great fucking liar. “I’m never leaving your side. I’m yours.”

Your eyes searched deep within his. “Always?”

Ben smiled. “Always.” He leant forward, gently pressing his lips against yours in a tender kiss.

Three months later, Soldier Boy died in a nuclear meltdown.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

A/N: jesus christ this took me so long to write 😭 but i’m so happy with how this first chap turned out. it’s gonna get so much more fun to write we get to the action 👀 pls lmk if there’s any mistakes, as i will go back n fix them !!! hope you enjoyed <3

TAGLIST: @onlyangel-444 @deans-spinster-witch @fumolemon @anundyingfidelity

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donutloverxo · 6 days

Text

Power Play (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: So, you lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship. It happens all the time. Maybe not quite like this.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. Crazy ass 80s Vought debauchery. I might be a little rusty, but it was fun getting back into writing readerfics after two months🖤 Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Power imbalance, cheating (Soldier Boy’s with Crimson Countess). Mentions of drug use. Soldier Boy is his own warning. Sexually explicit content involving elements of forced intox, semi-public sex, breeding kink.

You were dizzy. With Vought’s investor gala rapidly approaching, you spent the better part of your day camped out in your office, flipping back and forth through your rolodex to call and confirm catering, entertainment—you still couldn’t believe the board of directors actually approved Duran Duran’s booking fee—and transportation, off the top of your head. You already told Stan Edgar you were taking the following week off, which he had no qualms about—so long as the gala went off without a hitch.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you were interrupted by a knock at your office door, which you’d left open in an effort to be available in the lead up to the event.

“Don’t tell me Edgar’s got you working tonight,” Soldier Boy said, walking in when he saw he had your attention.

Keep reading

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donutloverxo · 6 days

Text

✨ His only exception - Pt. 20/? ✨

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: Language, angst, hurt

Word Count: 4728

A/N: This is part 20 of “His only exeption”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

The next few hours were a blur as you remained glued to the laptop screen, your eyes scanning the live feed from Vought's cameras. With Frenchie on the earpiece, you guided the team through the building, directing them to the best possible routes and warning them of any potential threats.

As they made their way through the corridors, leaving a trail of chaos and destruction in their wake, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease gnawing at the pit of your stomach. The guards they encountered didn't back down easily, and the resulting skirmishes left a grim reminder of the danger they faced.

Despite the violence unfolding before your eyes, you remained focused on the task at hand, doing everything in your power to ensure the team's safety and success. With each passing moment, the stakes grew higher.

Despite the team's best efforts, it became increasingly clear that Homelander wouldn't be served on a silver platter. Vought was prepared for nearly every contingency, making it incredibly difficult for the team to advance.

As the battle raged on, the odds seemed to stack higher against them with each passing moment. The guards were relentless, their firepower and tactics proving formidable obstacles to overcome.

In the midst of the chaos, MM was the first to go down, struck by a barrage of gunfire. His body crumpled to the ground, wounded badly as blood pooled around him. Kimiko acted quickly, dragging him out of harm's way and ushering him towards the safety of their van waiting outside.

After a tense struggle, the team encountered A-Train, who was already waiting for them, ready to join the fight against Homelander. His presence provided a much-needed boost to their morale, and with his help, they pressed on, determined to overcome the obstacles in their path.

Despite A-Train's assistance, Soldier Boy proved to be the standout performer. With an almost effortless grace, he dispatched the guards one by one, moving through the chaos with a precision and skill that left you in awe. It was as if he was born for this moment, his every move calculated and deliberate, his determination unwavering.

In that moment, you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride knowing that he was kinda fighting for you. Despite the trials and tribulations that had tested your relationship, there was no denying the strength and courage that lay within him.

The minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity as the team fought their way through the building, inching closer and closer to their target. Finally, they reached the top floor, the anticipation mounting with each step.

With bated breath, they pushed open the door to Homelander's room, ready to confront their greatest adversary. But just as they stepped inside, the door to your apartment swung open, revealing Homelander standing in the doorway, a smug grin plastered across his face.

The sight of him sent a chill down your spine, his presence looming over you like a dark cloud. His shit-eating grin only served to fuel the fire of anger burning within you.

"Fuck", you muttered under your breath.

Frenchie's voice crackled over the earpiece, his tone laced with concern. "What's going on?", he asked, the urgency in his voice reflecting the gravity of the situation.

Ben's head snapped towards frenchie at the sound of your voice, his eyes narrowing in focus.

"He's in the apartment", you both said in unison, your voices cold and devoid of emotion.

As Frenchie's voice echoed through the earpiece, his urgency palpable, you knew there was no time to waste. "Run!", he yelled, his words a desperate plea for you to escape.

But deep down, you knew there was no outrunning Homelander. With the team already on their way back, you felt a sense of dread wash over you as you realized there was nowhere to hide.

Just as the realization set in, you felt a presence behind you, a cold chill creeping up your spine. Turning slowly, your worst fears were confirmed as you came face to face with Homelander.

He wore a sinister grin, his eyes glinting with malice as he took a step closer. "Looks like we're going for a little walk", he sneered, his grip on your upper arm tightening with a force that threatened to crush your bones.

Panic surged through you as you struggled against his iron grip, but it was futile. With Homelander in control, you knew there was no escape. All you could do was brace yourself for whatever horrors awaited you on this twisted journey with the most dangerous man alive.

As Homelander dragged you along, his grip unyielding, he chuckled darkly, the sound sending chills down your spine. "I knew sooner or later that piece of shit team would come for me", he remarked, his voice dripping with disdain. "And they left you behind, didn't they? To keep you safe. What irony".

The team's mission to take down Homelander had inadvertently led to your capture, leaving you vulnerable and at the mercy of the very person they were trying to defeat.

You gritted your teeth, fury boiling within you as you struggled against his grasp. But Homelander merely chuckled in response, his grip tightening even further as he led you away.

As Homelander dragged you through the woods, your heart pounded with fear and uncertainty. He pushed you to the ground roughly, causing you to wince as pain shot through your body.

"What's your plan with me?", you snapped, your voice tinged with defiance as you struggled to maintain your composure. Rubbing your aching arm, you glared up at him, desperate for answers.

Homelander laughed. "Right now, I don't care about you", he sneered. "All I want is my showdown, once and for all. I'm going to kill all of these amateurs, and especially that pathetic excuse for a hero, Soldier Boy".

As Homelander squatted down in front of you, his gaze bore into yours with an intensity that made your blood run cold. "Right now, you're just my little decoy", he said. "But after I've dealt with every last one of your little friends, I've already got a nice, cozy place for you in the lab".

His words sent a shiver down your spine as the gravity of the situation sank in. You were nothing more than a pawn in Homelander's twisted game, a means to an end in his quest for domination. The thought of being imprisoned again, in some cold, sterile lab filled you with dread.

Summoning every ounce of strength and determination, you grabbed a rock beside you, desperation lending you a newfound resolve. With a primal scream, you launched yourself at Homelander, wielding the rock like a weapon as you aimed for his face.

The impact was swift and brutal, the rock connecting with Homelander’s jaw with a sickening crunch. For a fleeting moment, you dared to hope that you had gained the upper hand, that you might have a chance at escaping his grasp.

But your victory was short-lived as Homelander reacted with lightning-fast reflexes, throwing you off of him with a powerful shove. The force of his blow sent you hurtling towards the nearest tree, the world spinning as pain exploded through your body.

With a sickening thud, you collided with the tree, the impact knocking the breath from your lungs and sending darkness swirling at the edges of your vision. In the haze of unconsciousness, you dimly registered the sound of footsteps approaching, and then everything went black.

Just moments later, Ben and the rest of the team arrived, guided by the GPS signal from your phone.

As Ben heard the familiar rhythm of your heartbeat, his eyes narrowed with determination. "Frenchie, look after her", he barked, his voice filled with urgency as he strode purposefully towards Homelander.

With every step, Ben's resolve hardened, his fists clenched at his sides as he squared off against his formidable opponent. "You're gonna die", he growled, his voice low and menacing as he met Homelander's gaze head-on.

Homelander chuckled, a deranged glint in his eyes as he spoke like a madman. "No one can beat me", he ranted, his voice laced with arrogance and delusion. "I'm invincible. I'm a god among men".

But Ben remained undeterred, his jaw set with steely resolve. It was time to put an end to Homelander's reign of terror once and for all.

The rest of the team surged forward, a united front against the unstoppable force that was Homelander. But their efforts proved futile as one by one, they were brutally swatted aside like mere flies.

Annie lunged forward with her powers blazing, but Homelander effortlessly deflected her attacks, sending her crashing into the ground with a resounding thud. Frenchie and Butcher charged in next, armed to the teeth with weapons, but their efforts were swiftly thwarted as Homelander effortlessly brushed them aside, their bodies sent flying through the air with bone-crunching force.

Even A-Train, with his super speed, proved no match for Homelander's raw power. With a vicious swipe of his hand, Homelander sent A-Train hurtling backwards, his body skidding across the ground in a tangled mess of limbs.

Despite their best efforts, the team was no match for the sheer might of Homelander. With each devastating blow, their resolve faltered, their hope dwindling with every passing moment.

But as Soldier Boy and Homelander finally clashed, the air crackled with energy, their blows echoing through the battlefield with force. Each punch was met with a counterattack, neither willing to back down in the face of their opponent's fury.

Soldier Boy's combat skills were honed to perfection, his movements fluid and precise as he met Homelander blow for blow. With each strike, he channeled every ounce of strength and determination, refusing to yield to the overwhelming power of his adversary.

Homelander, for his part, fought with a ferocity that bordered on madness. His punches were like thunderbolts, each one delivered with the force of a freight train. But despite his raw power, Soldier Boy held his ground, his resilience matched only by his unwavering determination.

For what felt like an eternity, the two clashed, their battle raging on with no end in sight. Each exchange was a test of strength and skill, a testament to the unyielding resolve of both combatants.

In the midst of the chaos, it became clear that this was no ordinary fight. It was a clash of titans, a battle for supremacy that would determine the fate of the world. And as Soldier Boy and Homelander fought on, their struggle reached a fever pitch, each one pushing themselves to their absolute limits in a bid for victory.

As Starlight, Butcher, A-Train, and Hughie managed to pin Homelander down, the tension in the air was palpable. Every second felt like an eternity as they struggled to keep the formidable Supe restrained. Meanwhile, Frenchie rushed back to the apartment, cradling your unconscious body in his arms, desperate to get you to safety.

Soldier Boy's chest began to glow with an otherworldly light, a sign that he was reaching his breaking point. The nervous energy in the air grew thicker with each passing moment, the anticipation of what was to come almost unbearable.

But then, in a moment of sheer determination, Soldier Boy threw himself at Homelander with all the force he could muster. With a deafening roar, he unleashed his power, the energy within him erupting in a blinding flash of light.

In the chaos that followed, everyone else scrambled for their lives, knowing that they had only seconds to escape. And then, just as Soldier Boy collided with Homelander, the explosion consumed them both in a fiery inferno of destruction.

As the dust settled and the smoke cleared, the echoes of the explosion ringing in the air.

After a while, Soldier Boy began to regain consciousness, the world around him swam in a haze of confusion and pain. Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, Butcher, Hughie, and Annie were upon him, their faces twisted with determination.

In his weakened state, Soldier Boy struggled to defend himself against their onslaught. Annie and Hughie held him firmly in place, their strength amplified by the urgency of the situation. Butcher wasted no time, swiftly placing a mask containing Novichok gas over Soldier Boy's face.

Despite his best efforts to resist, Soldier Boy found himself succumbing to the effects of the deadly gas. His vision blurred, his muscles weakened, and his consciousness faded into darkness once more.

As the last vestiges of his strength slipped away, Soldier Boy was overwhelmed by a sense of defeat. In his final moments of consciousness, he could only watch helplessly as his `Teammates´ closed in. Again.

The heavy breathing of the team echoed in the air, a testament to the intensity of the situation. Butcher wasted no time, his voice steady despite the urgency of the moment.

"Annie, Hughie, get Soldier Boy to the airport of Supe Affairs. There's a plane waiting there", Butcher commanded, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

Annie and Hughie nodded in unison, their resolve unwavering as they prepared to move Soldier Boy. With determined strides, they hoisted his limp form between them, their muscles straining under the weight as they set off to carry out their task.

Turning to A-Train, Butcher's gaze hardened. "You're with me. We're taking Homelander to the Headquarter of Supe Affairs", he declared, his voice firm and commanding.

A-Train nodded, understanding the gravity of their mission. Together, they moved to secure Homelander, their determination to prevent his escape unwavering even in the face of his unconscious state.

With each member of the team assigned their roles, they set out to execute their plan with precision and determination, knowing that the fate of the world hung in the balance.

As the late evening light filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room, you slowly began to regain consciousness. Blinking away the haze of unconsciousness, you found Frenchie sitting beside you on the couch, his expression one of relief mixed with concern.

Groaning softly, you shifted in your seat, the ache in your body a constant reminder of the ordeal you had just endured. As you opened your eyes, you met Frenchie's gaze, offering him a weak smile of gratitude.

"Hey there", Frenchie said softly, his voice filled with warmth. "Glad to see you're awake. How are you feeling?".

With a slight wince, you replied, "Sore, but I I'll survive. What happened?".

Frenchie's expression grew somber as he recounted the events of the past few hours, detailing the harrowing battle against Homelander and the frantic rush to get you to safety.

Listening intently, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude towards Frenchie and the rest of the team for their bravery and quick thinking.

And despite everything that had happened, despite the anger you felt towards Ben, pretty much your only thought was how he was doing. So you asked Frenchie where Ben was.

"He… He left, (y/n)", Frenchie lied.

As you processed Frenchie's words, a heavy weight settled in the pit of your stomach, crushing your world with a sense of loss and disappointment. The news of Ben's departure struck you like a blow, leaving you reeling with a mixture of hurt and resignation.

"He left?", you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Frenchie nodded, his expression reflecting the weight of the situation. "Yeah, he said he didn't see any reason to stay now that Homelander is neutralized", he explained, his voice tinged with regret.

A wave of sadness washed over you as you absorbed Frenchie's words. It was as if the ground had shifted beneath your feet, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainty and heartache.

Frenchie's sympathetic gaze met yours, his eyes filled with understanding and compassion. "I'm sorry", he murmured softly, his words a gentle acknowledgment of the pain you were feeling.

But no amount of sympathy could ease the ache in your heart as you grappled with the abrupt end to your relationship with Ben.

Your voice shivered slightly as you mumbled, "I… I think I'm gonna go take a shower". The weight of your emotions threatened to overwhelm you.

Frenchie nodded in understanding, his expression filled with empathy. "Take your time", he said softly, his words a silent reassurance that he would be there for you when you needed him.

With a heavy heart, you pushed yourself off the couch and made your way to the bathroom, seeking solace in the comforting embrace of the warm water. As you stepped into the shower, tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over as the reality of Ben's departure washed over you in waves of sorrow and regret.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. The chaos of the world outside faded into insignificance as the overwhelming sense of abandonment consumed you. The thought of Ben leaving, of him deeming you unworthy of his presence, echoed in your mind like a haunting refrain.

You didn't care about Homelander or the fate of the others. All you could think about was Ben. How could he just walk away, leaving you.

As the water washed away the tears streaming down your face, you felt a profound sense of emptiness wash over you. In that moment, you were alone.

As the days passed, your initial sorrow gave way to simmering anger. How dare Ben walk away without so much as a word? How could he ignore your calls and messages, leaving you to stew in a pool of unanswered questions and unresolved emotions?

Fueled by frustration and a burning need for closure, you dialed Ben's number repeatedly, each call met with the cold indifference of silence. You left voicemails and sent messages, pouring out your heart in a desperate attempt to reach him, but each attempt fell on deaf ears.

As time wore on, the messages went undelivered, your words lost in the void of digital silence. The realization that Ben had chosen to cut you out of his life without a second thought only fueled the flames of your anger, driving you to new heights of resentment and indignation.

But beneath the anger lurked a deep-seated hurt, a nagging ache that refused to be silenced. Despite your best efforts to bury it beneath a veneer of rage, the pain of Ben's betrayal continued to gnaw at your heart, leaving behind a bitter taste of betrayal and disappointment.

Three weeks had elapsed since the tumultuous events that rocked your world. MM's recovery had progressed steadily, bringing a sense of relief to everyone involved. With Homelander neutralized and held captive at Supe Affairs, a semblance of peace had returned, albeit tinged with the echoes of past trauma.

As you stood before Ben's room, a mix of apprehension and determination filled your heart. Today marked the day that Butcher intended to clear out Ben's belongings, erasing all traces of his presence from your lives. Before everything was discarded, you felt compelled to sift through his possessions one last time, searching for closure amidst the remnants of what once was.

With a heavy heart, you entered the room, the air thick with memories.

As you moved through the room, memories flooded your mind with every item you touched. Ben's belongings, though few in number, held a weight of significance that was undeniable. You carefully selected one of his hoodies.

Amongst the scattered mementos, you found a small stack of photographs, capturing moments from Ben's childhood. Each image offered a glimpse into his past, revealing layers of his personality that you had yet to explore. With a tender smile, you tucked the photographs in your jeans.

Finally, your gaze fell upon his favorite lighter.

With your chosen keepsakes in hand, you made your way out of the room.

As you flipped through the stack of photographs, back in your room, your eyes widened in surprise when you stumbled upon one that featured you. In the image, you were sleeping peacefully in Ben's bed, bathed in the soft glow of morning light, with his sheets draped loosely over your form.

Raising an eyebrow, you couldn't help but feel a pang of curiosity at the sight. It was a candid moment captured in time, one that showcased a side of Ben you hadn't expected to see. Despite his rough exterior, there was a tender, romantic quality to the photograph that took you by surprise.

"Mighty romantic of you, Ben", you mumbled to yourself, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Despite his protests and claims of being anything but sentimental, the evidence before you painted a different picture. You lingered on the image, your heart ached with a mixture of longing and regret.

As another month slipped by, the absence of Ben weighed heavily on your heart. Eight weeks had passed since he walked out of your life, leaving behind an unfillable void. Despite the ache of his absence, you knew that life had to move forward.

In an attempt to distract yourself from the pain, you threw yourself into your work, immersing yourself in new projects and challenges.

It had been four weeks since you started working at Vought, and while you had hoped that this new job would provide you with some leads on Ben's whereabouts, your search had yielded no results thus far. Annie's prominent position within the company, with the support of A-Train, had facilitated your employment.

As you threw yourself into your work at Vought, hoping to find some semblance of closure or perhaps even a clue about Ben's whereabouts, you found yourself caught off guard by a coworker's persistent advances. From your very first day on the job, he had been flirting with you shamelessly, his charm and charisma impossible to ignore.

Despite your best efforts to focus on your tasks, his attention was a welcome distraction from the ache of Ben’s absence. With each playful exchange and lingering glance, you found yourself drawn to this new person, his presence offering a glimmer of solace amidst the uncertainty of your heartache.

As the clock struck noon on a Friday, the familiar sound of a knock interrupted the quiet hum of your office. You glanced up to see Jay, your coworker and so-called boyfriend, standing at the doorway with a hopeful smile on his face.

"Hey there", Jay greeted you warmly, his eyes lighting up as he took in your presence. "I thought I'd swing by and see if you'd like to grab some lunch before heading back to my place. What do you say?".

You hesitated for a moment, but as you looked into Jay's eyes, a flicker of warmth and affection tugged at your heartstrings.

With a soft smile, you nodded in agreement. "Sure", you replied, the corners of your lips quirking up in anticipation.

As you settled into his car, Jay turned to you with a gentle smile. "I was thinking", he began, his voice soft and reassuring, "maybe we could watch a movie tonight. And if you're up for it, we could have some… well… romantic time together". Jay's hand found its way to your thigh.

You felt a pang of guilt as Jay voiced his desires. After four months of Ben's absence and eight weeks of dating Jay, you hadn't yet taken that next step in your relationship. The truth was, you still weren't ready to fully open yourself up to someone new, not when your heart still carried the weight of unresolved feelings for Ben.

"It sounds nice", you replied, forcing a smile despite the turmoil swirling within you. "I'm just not sure if I'm ready for that yet".

Jay's expression softened with understanding, his hand squeezing yours in a reassuring gesture. "That's okay", he said gently, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering warmth. "Whenever you're ready".

As the day progressed, you found yourself nestled in Jay's arms, the soft glow of the TV casting a warm ambiance around you. The movie played in the background, but your thoughts were elsewhere, drifting back to memories of Ben. Again.

Jay was handsome, kind, smart, caring and came from a wealthy family—everything you could ask for in a partner. Yet, despite his many qualities, every touch, every kiss, every whispered word from him only served to remind you of the void left by Ben's absence.

With Jay's arm wrapped around you, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm, you couldn't help but long for the familiar touch of Ben, for the comfort and security you found in his embrace. As much as you tried to push aside thoughts of him, he remained a constant presence in your heart and mind, a ghost haunting every moment you shared with Jay.

Despite Jay's genuine affection and the comfort he offered, you couldn't shake the ache of longing for someone who was no longer there.

As the movie played on, Jay leaned down, his hand gently tilting your chin to meet his gaze. His eyes held a warmth and tenderness that made your heart ache in a way you couldn't quite explain.

"You look stunning today", he whispered softly, his voice laced with sincerity as he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face.

Before you could respond, his lips captured yours in a gentle kiss, his touch tender and affectionate.

As the kiss deepened, Jay's touch grew more urgent, his hands trailing up your hipbone beneath your shirt. You could feel the warmth of his touch searing through your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

His lips moved with a newfound intensity, his desire evident in the way he pressed his body against yours. You could feel the undeniable hardness of his cock against your thigh, the physical manifestation of his arousal.

Despite the warmth of his embrace and the passion in his kiss, a part of you couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that lingered within you.

Feeling Jay's weight pressing down on you, you couldn't suppress the feeling of discomfort that surged within you. As he began to kiss your neck, you gently pushed against his chest, creating a small barrier between you.

"I can't", you whispered softly, the words catching in your throat as you struggled to articulate the turmoil raging within you.

Jay's expression shifted, a hint of disappointment and hurt flickering across his features as he pulled back slightly. "What is it?", he asked, his voice tinged with confusion. "Why don't you want to sleep with me?".

"I just… I can't", you mumbled, your voice barely audible as you struggled to find the right words.

Crawling away from him, you stood up and made your way to the bathroom, the weight of your decision heavy on your shoulders. As you gazed at your reflection in the mirror, a wave of longing washed over you, your thoughts drifting back to Ben. Again. His words echoed in your mind, a painful reminder of the promise he had made to you. His vow not to touch you again if someone else ever laid a hand on you.

"Hey, are you okay in there?", Jay's voice called through the door, laced with concern.

You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself before responding. "Yeah, I'm fine", you replied, your voice wavering slightly. "Just need a moment".

There was a brief pause before Jay spoke again. "Do you want me to come in?", he asked tentatively.

You hesitated, unsure of how to respond. After a moment's consideration, you shook your head, even though he couldn't see you. "No, I'll be out in a minute", you assured him, your voice strained with emotion.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 21

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

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donutloverxo · 6 days

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Ari wants to know why you aren't in his lap.

"I don't get why aren't you in my lap?" Ari's voice has this displeased timbre, which usually tempts you to provoke him even further and wait for the world to cease to exist.

"Because-" you laugh- "then I wouldn't be finishing my make up."

You softly blend the eyeshadow on your eyelid, finishing touches really. You know your hand wouldn't be that steady, if Ari had his way.

"You could be." Ari counters. "You could do your make up, with your sweet, snug pussy filled with my cock. Just loving cockwarimng, sweetheart."

Your gaze lifts a bit to glance at Ari's reflection in your vanity mirror. He's sprawled on your bed, legs spread and hand rubbing down his abdomen.

"I'd hold your hair back, so you could finish your make up." He pouts when he catches your eyes in the mirror.

"You couldn't keep your hands to yourself if your life depended on it, Levinson." You snort, returning your attention to your own reflection.

There was no way - neither in any alternative universe, you think - where Ari would simply sit and do nothing, if you were seated in his lap. He couldn't do that, even if you were both clothed and simply cuddling. Much less if you were cockwarming him.

"I simply think it would've been the more logical choice," Ari says with a huff.

"Logical how?" You start applying mascara.

Focused on your eyelashes and not smudging your eyeshadow, you don't notice Ari's reflection in the mirror move. You don't hear the soft steps of his bare feet across the bedroom floor.

It's only when his hot breath puffs against your ear that you jerk in surprise.

You look up, meeting his blue eyes in the mirror. Heavy desire darkening his irises causes your breath to hitch.

"Because then you could finish your make up in peace after I'm finished with you." Ari growls, caging you in between his arms.

"This way, you're risking your beautiful face covered in ruin after I fuck you bent over the vanity."

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donutloverxo · 6 days

Photo

Soldier Boy + Vices

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donutloverxo · 6 days

Text

✨ His only exception - Pt. 21/? ✨

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, angst, hurt

Word Count: 3377

A/N: This is part 21 of “His only exeption”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

As you stood there in the bathroom, staring at your reflection, the tumult of emotions swirling within you threatened to overwhelm you. Jay's presence in your life had brought moments of joy and comfort, but now faced with the prospect of intimacy, you found yourself grappling with feelings you hadn't fully acknowledged.

Your mind wandered back to Ben, his absence palpable yet his memory hauntingly present. Could you truly move forward with someone else, knowing the lingering shadow of Ben hung over you?

The sound of Jay's voice outside the bathroom door broke through your reverie, a reminder of the present moment and the person waiting on the other side. Part of you longed to confide in him, to share the inner turmoil consuming you, but another part hesitated, fearing his reaction and the potential fallout of your honesty.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay?". His tone was gentle, laced with concern. "You seem… off. Is there something you want to talk about?".

You hesitated, the weight of his words sinking in. Jay's genuine concern only served to amplify the turmoil within you. How could you explain the maelstrom of emotions churning inside your chest without delving into the depths of your past?

"I'm… I'm fine", you replied, your voice betraying a hint of uncertainty. "Just… dealing with some things".

There was a moment of silence before Jay spoke again, his tone softer now, filled with understanding. "You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever it is, I'm here for you".

His words tugged at something deep within you, a flicker of hope amidst the chaos.

"I know", you murmured. "I just… need some time to sort things out".

You stepped out of the bathroom, your eyes red.

"C´mere", he whispered.

Feeling Jay’s arms envelop you in a comforting embrace, you let out a shaky breath, momentarily finding solace in his warmth. But his next words shattered the fragile calm that had settled over you.

“I just… I can’t shake this feeling”, Jay murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he held you close. “It’s like… I’m all in, you know? But sometimes it feels like you’re… not as committed to this as I am. I know we haven't been together that long, but it feels like you don't really want the whole thing”.

His words hung heavy in the air, a weighty reminder of the unspoken tensions simmering beneath the surface of your relationship. You swallowed hard, the guilt of withholding your true feelings threatening to suffocate you.

“I’m sorry”, you whispered, your voice tinged with regret. “I don’t mean to make you feel that way. It’s just… complicated”.

Jay pulled back slightly, his gaze searching yours for answers. “Complicated how?”, he asked, his tone a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. But as you met his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes urged you to be honest.

“There’s… someone else”, you confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Was someone else, I… I don´t know. It´s someone from my… past, I guess. And I… I’m still trying to figure out what that means for me… for us”.

Jay’s expression faltered, a flicker of hurt crossing his features before he masked it with a forced smile. “I see”, he said quietly, though his eyes betrayed the turmoil within. “I guess I always knew there was something more”.

You reached out to touch his arm, a silent plea for understanding. “It’s not that I don’t care about you”, you insisted, your voice trembling with emotion. “It’s just… complicated”.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of your confession hanging heavily between you.

Feeling Jay’s gaze fixed on you, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself to share a glimpse of the tangled web that had ensnared your heart.

“We had… a connection, a deep one. But things didn’t end well”.

Jay listened intently, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity as he leaned back against the wall, his eyes never leaving yours.

“And now”, you whispered, the words barely “now I’m here, with you. But… but part of me still feels tied to him, to what we had”.

Jay looked down at you, his gaze searching yours with a mixture of compassion and uncertainty.

"Are you sure you're ready for a new relationship?", he asked. "I mean, if part of you still feels tied to him… it's okay to take more time to figure things out".

Your heart ached at his words, the truth of his question hitting you with a force you hadn't anticipated. Were you truly ready to move on, to fully commit to a new relationship?

You shrugged, unable to meet Jay's gaze as a pang of guilt washed over you. "I don't know", you admitted. "I want to be, but… it's hard".

A flicker of hurt crossed Jay's features at your words, his shoulders slumping slightly as he struggled to mask his disappointment. "I understand", he said quietly, though the pain in his eyes betrayed the depth of his feelings. "I just… I want you to be happy, whatever that means for you… for us".

Tears welled in your eyes as you reached out to him, desperate to ease the ache you had caused. "I'm sorry", you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I don't want to hurt you".

Jay enveloped you again in a gentle embrace, holding you close as if trying to shield you from the pain of your own indecision. "It's okay", he murmured against your hair, his voice filled with a quiet resignation. "We'll figure it out together, okay?".

And as you clung to him, the weight of your uncertainty pressing down on you.

With everything swirling in your mind, you felt as though you were losing yourself in the chaos. The person you once knew, the one who had made promises and believed in love, seemed like a distant memory now.

After letting yourself in with Ben, you were pretending to be someone you weren't. And now, with Jay, you had thrown yourself into a new relationship, hoping to find solace in his kindness and affection. But in the process, you were hurting him, and the realization cut you to the core.

As Jay held you close, offering comfort and understanding despite the turmoil within you, you couldn't shake the feeling of guilt gnawing at your insides. How could you continue to deceive him, to pretend that everything was fine when you were barely holding yourself together?

More tears welled in your eyes as you buried your face in Jay's chest, seeking refuge from the storm raging within you. "I don't know who I am anymore", you confessed, your voice trembling with emotion.

Jay held you tighter, his own heart heavy with the weight of your pain. "It's okay", he whispered, his voice filled with compassion. "We'll figure it out together. Just… be honest with me, okay? That's all I ask".

You nodded against his chest.

Jay held you close, his arms a comforting embrace as he gently brushed his hand over your back, soothing the ache that had settled deep within you.

"Hey", he murmured softly, his voice a gentle caress against your ear. "When was the last time you visited your mom, or your family? Or at least met with some friends?".

His question hung in the air, a stark reminder of the isolation that had gradually encroached upon your life in recent weeks. You thought back, trying to recall the last time you had reached out to anyone outside of your interactions with Jay, but the memory eluded you.

"I… I don't know", you admitted. "It's been a while. I've been so caught up in everything… I guess I lost track of time".

Jay's embrace tightened slightly, a silent acknowledgment of the loneliness that had crept into your life unnoticed. "Maybe… maybe it's time to reach out to them. They care about you, you know?".

Again you nodded against his chest, the weight of his words sinking in.

Jay pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head. "Come on", he said softly, his voice tender as he gently pulled away from your embrace. "Let's go back to the living room".

As you settled back onto the couch, Jay wrapped his arms around you once more, pulling you close as if to reassure himself of your presence. His touch was gentle, yet persistent, as he continued to brush his hand over your arm in a comforting gesture.

With each stroke, a sense of calm washed over you, the weight of your worries momentarily lifted by Jay's unwavering affection. Just like it has been for the last few weeks.

As you nestled into his embrace, Jay let out a soft sigh, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke.

"I think… I think you need to figure out your feelings", he murmured, his words tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "I don't want to push you into anything, but… I really like you. And… and I do not want to lose you. Whether as a girlfriend or just a friend".

His admission hung in the air, a vulnerable confession of his own desires and fears. You turned to look at him, finding solace in the warmth of his gaze as he continued.

"So maybe… maybe we can take it slow", Jay suggested, his voice tentative yet hopeful. "We don't have to rush into anything. We can just… see where things go".

His words resonated within you, a gentle reminder that healing and growth often came with time and patience. You nodded in agreement, a sense of relief washing over you as you leaned into his embrace.

"Thank you", you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude. "For understanding".

Jay smiled softly, his fingers kept tracing soothing circles on your arm. "Always", he replied. "I'm here for you, no matter what".

In the days that followed, Jay and you spent countless hours talking, sharing stories, and getting to know each other on a deeper level. His presence became a source of comfort and stability, grounding you in the midst of uncertainty.

With each conversation, you felt pieces of yourself falling back into place, like a puzzle slowly being reassembled. Jay's patience and understanding gave you the space to explore your feelings and rediscover the person you once were.

One day, feeling a newfound sense of confidence and belonging, you suggested visiting the team again. Jay readily agreed, eager to meet the people who had played such a significant role in your life.

After introducing Jay to the others, everyone told you about the latest events, gave you an update on Homelander, and told you what it was like in the executive suite at Vought. Despite the distance and time apart, the bond you shared with them remained as strong as ever.

As the evening stretched on, you found yourselves gathered at a cozy bar with Hughie, Annie and Jay. Annie told you about her temporary leading position at vought.

You listened with admiration as she described the challenges and triumphs of her new role, marveling at her resilience and determination. Despite the pressures she faced, Annie seemed to thrive in the leadership position.

Meanwhile, Jay struck up a conversation with Hughie, the two of them quickly hitting it off. They exchanged stories and shared laughs, bonding over their mutual interests and experiences. You watched with a smile as Jay's easygoing charm drew Hughie out of his shell, the two of them becoming fast friends.

After a while, Annie led you to the bar to get some new drinks, the lively chatter of Hughie and Jay faded into the background, leaving you alone with your thoughts. As you waited for the bartender to take your order, Annie leaned in, her voice low and conspiratorial.

"So, what's the deal with you and Jay?", she asked, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I have to say, I really like him. You've definitely hit a good one".

You smiled weakly, grateful for Annie's support but unable to shake the weight of your own uncertainty. "He's great", you admitted, your voice tinged with hesitation. "But… I'm still trying to figure things out".

Annie nodded in understanding, her expression sympathetic. "I get it", she said softly. "But just know that Jay really cares about you. And if anyone can help you through whatever you're going through, it's him".

You sighed, the weight of her words settling heavily on your shoulders. "I know", you murmured, a pang of guilt tugging at your heart. "I just wish things weren't so… complicated".

Annie let out a sigh, her frustration evident as she leaned in closer, her voice tinged with exasperation.

“You need to forget about Ben”, she insisted, her tone firm. “He’s not worth your time or your heartache. You have someone amazing right in front of you, someone who genuinely cares about you”.

You nodded, knowing deep down that Annie was right. But as much as you wanted to let go, the pull of your feelings for Ben remained stubbornly strong.

“I know”, you replied softly, your voice filled with resignation. “But it’s not that easy. Ben… he made me feel things no one else ever could, or ever will”.

Annie rolled her eyes, her disdain for Ben evident in the way her lips curled into a frown. “Yeah, well, he was also a huge dick most of the time”, she muttered under her breath.

You couldn’t help but chuckle weakly at her bluntness. “That’s true”, you admitted with a rueful smile. “But despite everything, there was still something about him…”.

Annie shook her head, her frustration evident as she reached out to squeeze your hand in a gesture of support. “But you deserve someone who treats you right”.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the difficult conversation ahead. "I know Ben wasn't always ideal", you began, your voice tinged with emotion. "But he… he literally risked his life for me so many times… We, he, was special. We had something special".

"If there was really something special, he wouldn't have just left", she said bluntly, her words hitting you like a punch to the gut.

The truth in Annie's words cut deep, stirring up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within you. You knew she was right, that Ben's departure had left a gaping hole in your heart that seemed impossible to fill. But despite the pain, a part of you couldn't let go of the memories, the moments of connection and intimacy that had once brought you so much joy.

Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to find the words to respond."But… it's not that simple…".

Annie reached out to you, her touch gentle as she wiped away your tears. "I'm sorry", she said softly, her voice filled with empathy. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I just want you to be happy, that's all".

As you walked back to the table with Annie by your side, you couldn't shake the weight of her words echoing in your mind. With a heavy heart, you stole a glance at her, a silent plea for comfort and understanding.

"He didn't even say goodbye", you mumbled, the bitterness of the truth lingering on your tongue.

"He's just an asshole", she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"But he… had his reasons", you replied quietly, thinking about russia, though even you weren't entirely convinced by your own words.

Annie shook her head, her frustration evident as she linked her arm with yours. "Maybe", she conceded, her voice softening. "But that doesn't excuse the way he treated you. You deserve better than that".

In the apartment, Butcher, MM and Frenchie sat in tense silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

Frenchie shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his brow furrowed with worry. “I don’t like lying to (y/n)”, he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with guilt.

Butcher let out a frustrated groan, his frustration palpable in the air. “If (y/n) knew we had captured Soldier Boy, she’d be on the next flight to free him”, he grumbled, his tone laced with bitterness.

MM glanced between his companions, his expression grave. “We can’t risk it”, he said firmly, his voice a quiet reminder of the stakes at hand.

Frenchie let out a frustrated grunt, his unease bubbling to the surface. "If that ever comes out, (y/n) will hate us all", he muttered.

Butcher's jaw tightened at the thought, his frustration boiling over into anger. "She won't find out", he snapped, his tone harsh and uncompromising. "No one is spilling the beans, understand?".

MM nodded in agreement, his expression solemn as he met Butcher's steely gaze. "We'll keep our mouths shut", he affirmed. "He wasn't good for her, Frenchie. He just used her".

But Frenchie shook his head adamantly, his brow furrowed with disagreement. "I don't think so", he interjected, his voice firm with conviction. "I think he really did love her".

Butcher scoffed at Frenchie's assertion, his skepticism evident in the way he narrowed his eyes. "Love? That's a load of rubbish", he retorted, his tone dismissive. "He's a bloody supe, Frenchie. They don't know the first thing about love".

Frenchie bristled at Butcher's words. "Clearly you didn't see the way he looked at her", he countered. "There was something real there, I'm telling you".

MM glanced between Butcher and Frenchie, a troubled expression crossing his features. "Maybe", he conceded reluctantly. "But even if he did love her, it doesn't change the fact that he's a liability now. We can't afford to have him jeopardize us".

Turning back towards Annie, you couldn't shake the nagging question that had been gnawing at the back of your mind. "But don't you think it's strange he didn't even say goodbye?", you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "I mean, we were kinda friends, right?".

Annie raised a skeptical eyebrow, her expression incredulous. "Friends?", she echoed, her tone laced with disbelief. "You're for real, (y/n)?".

You flushed slightly, taken aback by Annie's reaction. "Well, maybe not friends exactly," you admitted sheepishly. "But we… we had something".

Until now, you hadn't told anyone how much had actually happened between you and Ben, even if everyone could already guess.

Annie let out a sigh, her frustration evident as she shook her head. "I don't know what you had with Ben", she replied, her tone softer now. "But whatever it was, it's over now. You deserve better than someone who would just up and leave without a word".

Despite your best efforts to move forward, being back with the team brought a flood of emotions rushing back, intensifying the ache of missing Ben. Every corner of the room seemed to whisper his name, every familiar face a bittersweet reminder of the bond you had shared.

You found yourself lost in memories, replaying moments spent with Ben in your mind like a broken record. His absence felt like a gaping hole in the fabric of your reality, a void that no amount of distraction could fill.

And as you navigated through the days, the longing for Ben weighed heavily on your heart, casting a shadow over even the most joyous moments. Despite the passage of time, the pain of his absence remained raw and unyielding.

And as you struggled to reconcile the past with the present, you couldn't shake the feeling that despite your best efforts, you were still trapped in a cycle of longing and loss.

———————————

A/N: I hope this chapter makes you feel a little better :D There's still so much planned guys, just wait. Please let me know what you think.🥰

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donutloverxo · 8 days

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Can you write a second chance a love with SY. He and reader were exes and tension has built up where he can’t help but kiss you and profess that he still misses you. Thanks!

Second Chances

Captain Syverson x GN!Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Mentions of Failed (Military) Relationships, Mentions of Fighting/Regretted Words Exchanged, Slight Sexism/Toxic Masculinity/Trad Views, Self-Doubt, Slight Depression, Sy is Able to Lift Reader, Angst with Happy Ending (As Requested)

Reader/Unnamed OC Description: No Physical Descriptions, No Mentions of Race, Height, Weight, Ethnicity, Etc., Age is 25+, Sy is 35+, No Use of Y/N, Only You/Your Pronouns, Mentioned as “darling" and "beautiful", otherwise gender neutral.

Life is… fine. Wake up. Go to work. Come back home to your apartment. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. There wasn't really anything to complain about, but there was a notable loss. The only thing is now you're just used to it.

In the beginning, it was always the little things, someone passing with a similar cologne, a specific food brand at the grocery store, a familiar street you no longer pass by as often. Eventually, the watery eyes tamed to a pang in your chest. Now, it's all just numbness. Even with friends, your smile makes appearances again, but the happiness doesn't quite reach your eyes the way it used to. It's been so long, they just stopped mentioning it, but you still notice the occasional pity look.

It's a crazy thing to think about how you've lived more of your life without him than you have with him, but that doesn't lessen the effect.

You'd survived your childhood, your teenage years, and early twenty-something without him. After meeting the most handsome man you'd ever laid eyes on, you'd be foolish not to reciprocate his advances. Though you shortly had your skepticism after finding out his occupation, he was quick to assure you he was no quick trip, and ultimately, you caved.

And he for sure had you, for years in fact. He had you completely believing every one of his ‘I love you's and ‘forever's, yet here you are, missing the way he'd fill up the space in your life.

You'd had a life before him, a decently fulfilling, single life until he showed up and screwed that all up. He wasn't necessarily your first ‘love’, but he was definitely your first ‘true love’. And, now, you were feeling the effects of that loss.

The first thing that hit you after your split with Sy was anger, pure reactivity to how everything ended. How dare he call you ‘too much’. How dare he try to pull the whole ‘you signed up for this’ bullshit. He had the audacity to make every problem your problem. Fuck him for making your ‘forever’ just another failed military love that should've known better.

You were soon to block him, not wanting to hear any of his ‘I'm sorry's or ‘can we talk's. You'd already talked, talked a little too much. You were done. ‘Let it die’ was your mantra for months. He ruined you, had you looking in the mirror different. You couldn't talk to anyone, express yourself, ask for help, be vulnerable without seeing it as annoying, dramatic, ‘too much’. Maybe, it was just you?

You took it upon yourself to change, distance yourself, drift away. Was it just you? No one made a comment about how they suddenly heard from you less. Were you really too much?

For a long while, you wished he'd cheated, abused, something, anything to make you hate him. Could you really hate him for it? You didn't work out. That's not his fault. He didn't understand you, and a couple of rude words weren't nearly enough to hate him. He was ultimately a good guy. He was never unfaithful, never would even dare to think of laying a hand on you, but when it was all said and done, he was a bit neglectful. But, how much of that was him, and how much of it was his job? Oftentimes, it was hard to distinguish. Too often was it an excuse.

Did he love you? sure. Could he have loved more? yes. Too often did it feel like he was one-sided. You were there for him, not the other way around. You are his, not the other way around. You needed him, not the other way around. And to have that shoved back in your face when you brought it up was not the right reaction. He shouldn't feel like an animal cornered when you brought up a concern, something he did that hurt you, but he did. A valid point shouldn't be shot down or argued with counterpoint, but it was. Now, you can only second guess yourself, and that shouldn't be how it is, but it is.

You loved too hard, that will haunt you. He loved too little, and that will forever haunt him.

He hated himself. You were everything he ever prayed for, a beautiful partner with a beautiful smile and a beautiful soul, someone he could have forever. He didn't realize that the thought of ‘having someone’ was wrong of him. He was selfish. You never did anything but show him your heart, your mind, and he blew it up in your face. He destroyed something, someone so beautiful. A day hasn't passed that he wasn't filled with regret. He couldn't even smile or laugh anymore. He became scary.

He'd lost the one piece of true happiness in his life, and it was his fault.

He craved you. He needed you, but he was too late. Why couldn't he have realized what he had sooner? Appreciate you like you deserve. Love you like you deserve. He knows he has it in him, but he just couldn't. fucking. see. it. He wants to kick his own ass for it. He desperately wants to turn back time, go back with the mindset he has now, or at least beat it into his past self.

He'd gotten too damn comfortable being in the military. Vulnerability is weakness. Why would he use his words? Why think about anything, decode? Feelings are best buried. He's a man's-man, and a man only needs to protect and provide

He believed that ideology never gave him issues until you. You challenged that ideal. You asked him for his thoughts, his feelings. You wanted to know. You cared. It annoyed him. Why the fuck would he care? Sure he had thoughts and feelings somewhere, but he pushed them down. Why bring them back up? You surely had too much time on your hands to be concerned with what he was thinking. You wanted connection. He knows that now, but what is that going to do for him now?

He immediately felt the effects of your absence. He was deployed when you left your shared home. He watched you leave on the security camera, car packed to the brim. Sure, he had felt a type of way about it then, but then he was only apologizing for the sake of it. He was just another man in the wrong. Apologize to your upset partner, make up, and move on, but oh, was it so much more different now.

He was filed to the brim with remorse. Even then, he had visions of your shared future, retiring or climbing ranks to settle in one place, building a family, a home, preferably on a large, secluded plot of land. How he looks on with different eyes at that ‘future’ now. He never truly believed in all that ‘grass is greener’ ‘know what you have ‘til it's gone’ B.S. until he'd lost you. He gets it now.

It wasn't until that switch was flipped for him to realize you blocked him, excommunicated. He was gone so much that he never got a chance to build any sort of relationship with your friends. It irritates him now that he is probably known as just the shitty military ex. The closest thing he has to you is a friend of a friend of his who is a friend of a friend of yours. At first, he'd rather die than try to reach out to you that way, but now, there was no line, no bridge he wouldn't cross to just get one more moment with you.

He'd been stewing on it for the last year and a half. You'd moved and blocked him. It seemed utterly hopeless to reconnect, but something came up recently that has him itching again.

He's been promoted. A good job, good position, and in one place. It was perfect. The start of your ‘forever’ together. The only thing missing is you. Friend of a friend² be damned. He had to fix this, and just his luck to find you. Just your luck to be found.

It took several minutes for you to lay eyes on him, but he spotted you immediately. The second you walked through the door of your new favorite café, he saw you. He couldn't believe it. He originally pulled himself into this place because it simply reminded him of you. It had you written all over it. He felt closer to you here. He wouldn't have guessed you would just walk in like this. His eyes followed you as you stood in line and ordered.

He noticed you glance around the café briefly and still not spot him seated at a back table facing the exit. His heart raced, seeing your eyes wander before going to your phone. He knew that look, though. You were only fidgeting with it, trying to make yourself look busy to avoid any social awkwardness. It made him grin as he stared longingly. There were some things that didn't change.

It had been a whole two years since you last saw Sy, about eight months since you stopped seeing him in every stranger. You weren't going to back track now, so you stared down blankly at your phone to keep yourself from staring at the familiar looking guy in the corner. He was missing a thick beard and a shaved head, but with a quick glance, he looked an awful lot like heartbreak.

Sy knew he was on borrowed time, the chances of you sitting alone in any kind of restaurant was slim to none, and considering you weren't looking for seating meant you were grabbing and going. He had to think of something and fast.

His body was standing, and his feet were moving before his mind could catch up. It wasn't until he was about two feet away that he stopped and started panicking. You noticed the man standing in your peripheral, but you kept your head down to avoid any awkward eye contact. That was until your name fell from his lips, causing you to look up from your phone.

“Sy?” Your eyes widened and your brows furrowed together. Your heart immediately started blasting in your ears. You couldn't breathe. You'd thought about running into him again, about all you wanted to say to him, telling him off? apologizing? But that was before your move, before you forced him out of your mind. Now, you were face to face with your anxiety and dreaded nightmare. Your name was muffled from his mouth and to your ears the second time.

“Hi. How have you been?” He wanted to punch himself in the face for how casual that came out, but he quite honestly couldn't think of anything better to say without falling over his own words. He awaited a response from you, but you only stared like a deer in headlights.

You genuinely couldn't hear a word coming out of his mouth. Was he talking? He had to have been. His mouth was moving, but it was like his voice was muffled. Something you assume was your name came out again before your name was called a bit louder by a different voice behind you.

You whip your head around to find a perky barista with a drink in hand, looking in your direction. You scurry over to her and take your drink with a curt thank you, as polite as you can muster in this moment. Without even a second glance, you're making a rushed escape for the exit. Your name is called again, but you're tunnel visioned on the door out.

Sy's stomach tightens and drops at the sight of your flee, but again his body is in full control at this point. He's utterly in shock. He didn't know what to expect, but this was his chance. All he knew is that he couldn't let you leave, not again, so this time, he chased after you.

As soon as you're out the door, he's right behind you, having to catch the door from slamming on him. He calls out for you again, but you don't stop, so he keeps running.

It's once you're passed the café windows that he finally catches up. He reaches to grab for your arm but quickly changes his mind to just step in front of you instead. “Wait! Please, darlin’, wa-”

“Don't call me that.” He's taken aback by the sudden words but retracts nonetheless.

“Please. Wait.” It was at this point that you both have fallen silent that you get a good look at him. His hair has grown out of its ‘tactical buzzcut’ and into a pretty generic cut that was redeemed by the dark curls atop his head. His beard was now trimmed down to only some scruff and a mustache. It was an odd combination of seeing him with more and less hair than usual, but he was just as handsome as ever, unfortunately.

The pause between you both was long. Though it should be awkward, it was also strangely comfortable or rather empty. Being in each other's presence again was like putting on an old hoodie. It was cathartic and familiar, but the memories, the history, was hard to get passed. Your name falls from his lips again, a lot softer and barely there. Your eyes were trained on his face, unable to look away. His were downcast.

“I… I….” His eyes close as he takes a deep breath in an attempt to gain some composure. His bottom lip juts out a bit as his mouth tightens into a little frown. “Please, I need to talk with you.” He opens his eyes, encapsulating your gaze in his.

The sight of his eyes outside of your memory is enough to empty your brain of any thought, so you remain silent. But he needs an answer from you, so he waits.

“What is there to talk about?” You say. He can tell by the look in your eyes that you built walls that weren't there before, and it shakes him to his core. He did that.

“A lot.” He sighs, huffing out a singular humorless laugh through his nose. His face briefly quirks like it wants to give a smile to match the short laugh, but the overwhelming weight of the situation at hand just won't allow for it.

You stare up at him for a few beats of silence, both of your chests tight with anxiety. You've never seen him so close to breaking down. He's never seen you so blank. Neither of you really knows what to do, but eventually, your eyes fall from his face before you walk passed him.

Sy freezes. The world around him simultaneously crumbles and halts. His breathing completely stills. You don't get five steps away before you turn back and call after him, “You want to talk. I'm not giving you another chance to do so.” You say, expecting him to follow you. As soon as the realization hits, he moves with haste. He's beside you walking before you're even done turning back around.

It was a good two blocks before Sy spoke up. “How have you been?” He tries again, looking over to you as you walk.

“Fine.” You answer curtly. It makes Sy frown again. It's the kind of ‘fine’ you'd give a stranger, and he hates that that's what you've become. He feels a bit shut down but continues. This is his chance.

“Well, that's, um, good to hear.” He states, but the end of the sentence inflicts an upward tone, almost into a question.

“I wasn't for a long time, but now, I'm fine.” You add, and it's the hardest punch in the gut Sy has ever received. His jaw clenched as he nodded. He swallows, trying to carefully choose his words, knowing how much each one counts.

“Darlin-” He cuts himself off by correcting it to your name. He sighs again, “Please, genuinely hear me when I express how sorry I am.”

“I'm sure you are.” He glosses over your response, continuing.

“Look, I know I've said it before, but, in all honesty, I didn't-” He cuts himself off again, making sure he words it correctly.

“Didn't mean it?” You finished, a bit annoyed.

“No.” He's quick to correct, “I meant it.” He says, determined, “I knew that I had made you upset, and I knew to apologize for it, but I didn't really know the meaning behind it.” He admits. “I didn't understand.” He confirms what you already know. “I was foolish. Stuck in an old way.” He pauses with another frown. “I didn't understand why you wanted to dig into me. I didn't understand that you were only trying to connect with me, really connect. I got defensive. ” He looks up from the ground to your eyes with a sad, guilty look, like he's confessing. “I was stupid and didn't believe in sharing every part of me with you.” He slows his pace, forcing you to match until you're stopped in front of him.

You're facing each other as he continues with his confession. “I thought doing so would make me less of a man, but I understand now.” He gives you a quick, little, sad smile before it disappears into a guilty frown. “I understand that it was an integral part of strengthening our bond, our love. You'd show me every part of you in return for me doing the same, and we'd accept each other, every part.” He gives another sad smile that breaks your heart all over again. He looks down shamefully with a hard look on his face, “I understand now.”

You look at him with a sad pout. Half of you wants to give him a piece of your mind. Two years!? It took all that time to just now fucking realize what you were asking of him!? But the other half didn't know how to feel. What is he trying to do? Redeem himself? What.

“So that's it? You just wanted to give me an actual apology?” He can see that your walls are still up. He fixes his jaw.

“Yes, but,” He starts. He knew that you weren't going to just fall into his arms, but he still hoped it would be that easy to just pick up where you left off. He sighs with his eyes closed, this time shakily, nervous. It confuses you as you've never seen the Captain Syverson nervous. “I've been…” He stops short, pausing. Jesus, you never thought you'd see the day this immovable mountain of a man revert to a reprehensible kid. “I know we can't pick up where we left off, and I kind of don't want to,” He tries again, this time getting a confused and slightly offended expression from you, “but can we, maybe, start over?” He looks at you with the most hopeful, pitiful puppy eyes you've ever seen, another thing you never thought you'd see from him.

The air forcefully leaves your lungs as all the progress you've made through the years to try and make yourself impenetrable leaves with it. Your chest tightens as you try to will the upcoming tears away. It's your turn to let out a humorless laugh. You shake your head, looking off into the distance, “You really hurt me, Sy.” You look back at him with the most heartbreaking expression. He nearly looks close to tears at the sight. “I'm too much. I'm needy. I expect too much.”

“No, no, no.” He stops you, stepping closer only to get you retreating from him. Your step back drives the heartbreak further into his chest. He shakes his head in utter disagreement, a disgusted grimace on his features. “You're not. You're. not. I was foolish and childish, and I was not ready for you.”

“But you're ready now?” You interject in disbelief.

“Yes,” He states firmly without hesitation. He steps up again. This time, your body visibly tenses, but you don't move away. “I'm more than ready. I need you.” He takes another smaller, gentler step forward. “I hate that it took you leaving for me to see that, but I do.”

“Sy-”

“Please. Please. Don't say it's too late. Don't say we can't try again. Please, just one more chance.” He looks down abruptly like a private who just got caught looking at a superior officer. He's begging. He knows how he hurt you and your trust. Like a dog showing its belly, he's trying to show you his submission. Ultimately, it's in your hands, but he's determined.

You stare at him while trying to decipher the mess in your mind. “Sy.” You say a bit more calmly. His demeanor doesn't change. You sigh, “How do I know you wouldn't just fail back into old habits? What if, even after all this, you just repeat the same closed book bullshit? What's different?” You try to find his eyes, but they remain downcast as he stays still.

“I've been promoted.” He states a bit detached, poorly stating fact, anything you want from him. “I'd no longer be in the field, no longer deployed. I'd be in one place.” He purses his lips into another right frown. “It's the start of what we used to talk about.” He says, words laced with hope and nostalgia. “Remember?” He tests, voice as soft as silk. Your eyes sadden even more, looking down with a miniscule nod. “I can settle down. Stop putting myself in the line of fire every day. I'd come home to you every night, wake up with you every mornin’.” His eyes soften as they peer up at you through his dark eyelashes. “Get that dream house.” He raises his brows with soft eyes and a sigh of a grin.

“Sy.” He quickly follows with your name before you continue. The gentle way your name rolls off his tongue makes your heart race at a concerning rate. “I,” you sigh, “I can't just run back to you after all this time.” You scoff out a sad laugh.

“So, let's just start with a date.” He tries again softly, melting your heart in your chest. “No pressure, no expectations, just one do-over.” His eyes flutter softly as his eyes return to their submissive downcast. “A reintroduction to the people we've become. A second first date.” He concludes. You can't help but let out a soft giggle, skinny trying to hold yourself together. Though it's sad, Sy has never heard a more beautiful sound. His chest swells with hope.

It takes time for you to make up your mind, and he gives it to you. Your everything was already screaming at you to say yes, but you couldn't let him know that, so you took your time. “Okay.” You cave. Sy's brows shoot up, and his face breaks out into a huge, mouth agape smile. The image of pure overjoyed surprise.

He can't help himself but close the distance between you and scoop you in his arms, twirling you around, with a victorious laugh. The shock of it all and contagious joy causes you to let out a small giggle. He looks up at you in his arms and drops you down enough to plant a kiss on your lips. Though quick, the kiss was filled with nothing but longing and love.

As if realizing what's happened, he's quick to gently set you back down and take a step back, returning to the same distance you were at prior. He is a bit awkward with his hands before setting them on his hips. He still has a bright smile on his face, “I,” he huffs, “You have no idea how you've just made me the happiest man to ever exist.” He tries to just quickly move passed what just happened. “So, could I, maybe, get your number?” He says, trying his best to contain his joy.

You laugh, admittedly a little awkward. “It's the same one.” You fidget, “I can, uh, I'll unblock you, as long as you have the same number as well, I mean.” You stumble. He nods.

“Yeah. Yeah, it's the same one.” He sighs, content. His eyes are filled with admiration and adoration, like you hung the moon and stars single handedly. It was everything you ever wanted from him to see his love within him.

You quickly pull your phone out and unlock his number on the spot. “There.” You shoot him a quick text. Even after all this time, his tagname never changed in your phone. You hear his phone ding moments later, and he pulls it out with an even brighter smile and a sigh of relief. He never thought he'd see your name pop up in his notifications again. Once again, it's always the little things that are missed.

“Are you free this weekend? Friday night, maybe?” He asks. You give him a small smile and a nod. “Great! Great, I'll- I'll pick you up? We can get dinner after work and…start over.” He sighs. He's both a little sad and over the moon. He wants nothing more than to do a quick catch-up and just start pouring his love into you, but hey, beggars can't be choosers. You give another small smile.

“I can't wait.” You say. He nods curtly. “You can tell me all about your new job.” His face brightens at you, showing interest in him again. He steps forward to stand beside you, holding out his elbow.

“Let me walk you to your car.” You breathe out a small chuckle before hooking your hand in his elbow, taking back to the café parking lot. Just a few paces in, Sy leans in closer to you to whisper in a low tone, “I know we're going to go slow, but I just want to say… I missed you.” You look into his deep blue eyes before looking down at his mustached lips.

“I've missed you too.” You whisper back with a small smile.

The remainder of the work week, Sy was notably different, even getting some teasing comments from coworkers. Your friends tried tearing into you, asking why you suddenly looked like the life returned in you, but you kept your lips sealed. You were taking things one step at a time with Sy.

The most anyone got was “I have a date.”

____

I hope you liked it! Thank you so much for the request, Anon! I hope I did it justice. (sorry it took so long. I've been a bit under the weather😅)

Masterlist

Swisslist (General Taglist): @rosecentury @solacedthistest

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donutloverxo · 9 days

Note

Hiya!

Just read your recent SB fics and I'm fucking hooked. Dark Ben is ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥. Can I request another Dark Soldier Boy and reader being in slave/master dynamics, please? 🥹

helloooo!! thank you so much, i'm glad to know that you liked it!! i tried my best for a dark!soldier boy haha. this is maybe the first time i write this type of master/slave dynamic and i'm mostly a sub so the reader is a sub too XD hope you enjoy this filthy thing !!

event guidelines ✮ event masterlist ✮ request here!

PLAYTHING — Dark!Soldier Boy x female reader

Word count: 592 (these aren't 400 words drabbles anymore lmao).

Genre: dark smut.

Warnings: dark!soldier boy, master/slave dynamics, face-fucking, cum-play, cum swallow, hair pulling, finger-sucking, if you squint forced alcohol compsumtion, usage of word 'slut'.

Your throat hurts and you try to catch a breath from your nose as much as you’re allowed to. You shut your eyes closed, feeling his strong hands against your scalp, fingers tugging at your hair as you gag on his shaft over and over, while he’s using your mouth as his personal fleshlight.

His cock throbs in your mouth, spit is running down your chin and you try to rub your thighs together, yearning for some friction between them. Your nipples are hard and stiff now, aching for release, but you know better to not touch yourself before he gives his permission to do so.

“Shit, you’re so fucking good with that mouth of yours, sweetcheeks,” he praises and follows a chain of dirty courses between his hitching breath.

You think he’s going to release down your throat but you’re so wrong. Soldier Boy forces your head back, his dick slipping out of you leaving a string of saliva connecting the tip of his veiny shaft with your swollen lips. His dark green gaze takes in the mess you are; on your knees between his legs, eyes lost in pleasure even if he hasn’t touched you yet, panting hard, showing up your bare body only with a pair of black stockings combined with high-waist suspenders that hugged your body perfectly.

Just how he loved to see you, his little plaything. So obedient, so eager to please him. His cock begins to twitch again.

“Fetch me another glass,” Soldier Boy orders, voice low and dark.

“Yes, master.”

He lets go of the grip on your hair and you stand up with wobbly legs to fill up his glass with the expensive bottle of liquor standing on the bar of his penthouse. When you come back, he trails his eyes over your figure and takes the glass as you kneel between his thighs. Innocent eyes draw back at him, he smirks, settling the glass on the carpeted floor by your side.

“Such a good pet,” Soldier Boy praises, his thumb now tugging at your lower lip. You open your mouth as a reflex and he shoves his index finger along too. You start sucking on them and he pushes further, making you gag around his fingers. “Ain’t even touching you yet and I know you’re soaking wet.”

You moan as an answer, mouth full of his digits. He pulls them out suddenly and forces your mouth to stay open with a hand, the other taking his hard cock to shove it down your throat again, this time fucking your wet cavern like a mad man looking for his release. It’s not too long until he spends his cum until it mixes with your spittle and runs down your chin, coating the base of his cock.

“Swallow,” he commands, staying still inside your mouth and you do as better as you can.

Once you’re allowed to breathe again you lick the remnants on his shaft, moaning at the salty taste of it. He forces you to stop suddenly and grabs the liquor glass again. Your aching jaw falls open thanks to his strong hand and he pours the scotch on your mouth. The taste smoothly burns as you swallow it all.

“Yeah, fucking take it all, my little slut,” he grunts, eyes on your flushed face. “You’ve been so good today. I might have to reward you.”

You whine pathetically, unable to look away from his lustful eyes. You’re basically begging to be fucked by now. And that he will, under his own terms.

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donutloverxo · 9 days

Note

If you’re feeling inspired, how about this guy:

As your boss who propositions you on a business trip during some down time? 😏

Ohhh I had fun with this one! Many thank again to Siri for helping me get my muse in gear! ❤️❤️

Starring: CEO!Ari Levinson x Assistant!Female Reader

Summary: Ari’s your boss and he wants you, and you him. What choice are you going to make?

Warnings: 18+ Only. NSFW. Smut ahead. Oral sex (m/f receiving). Unprotected sex. Power exchange. Degradation. Power imbalance. Ari crossing lines as a boss he shouldn’t cross.

Word Count: 2352

Divider By: @firefly-graphics

“I thought I told you to put that thing away?” You’ve just enough time to move your fingers before your boss closes the lid of your laptop with a “snap.” Ari Levinson, owner and CEO of Levinson Enterprises Inc. eases into the seat next to you where you’ve isolated yourself to finish some work so you didn’t get behind while you were away from the office.

“I was just about finished,” you offer a small smile before reaching for your water, looking beyond the resort's pool and focusing on the waves crashing against the sand. His eyes are hiding behind sunglasses but you sense him watching you, studying you, and it makes you uncomfortable. “Did you need me to do something for you Mr. Levinson?”

“Ari,” he corrects, taking a swig of his beer. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Ari? I know you know how to follow directions, sweetheart. You’re a good girl, it shows in your work.”

Heat creeps up the back of your neck at his praise, and equally mortified at its inappropriate undertone. Ari’s never said anything to or around you that’s crossed the line of professionalism, but you’ve heard rumors, office gossip. You know that you’re the fourth assistant he’s had in six months, and the word on the street is he seduced them and then paid them off to go away. All hearsay of course.

“I was just making sure you were making time to relax,” he tells you as he stands into a big stretch, his shirt riding up over his swim trunks, gifting you a glimpse of a small patch of hair under his navel. “I’ll see you tonight at dinner,” he turns to leave, taking a step before turning back to you. “And no more work. I mean it.”

You feel good, giggling a little too long at a coworkers dad joke, but you didn’t care. Besides, Ari did say he wanted you to relax, and boy, do you feel relaxed. The nerves you had walking into the dining room have disappeared, replaced with a warmth in your belly that only a delicious glass of red wine could give- or three.

Ari’s been stealing glances at you throughout dinner but you can’t read his face. He seems fine, laughing and engaging in conversation with those seated around him but when he looked at you it was with an insatiable hunger that you’ve never seen before, like he could devour you for hours and enjoy every minute. The thought alone made a spark tingle down your spine and settle in your throbbing core, but you knew better. He was your boss, and you weren’t going to be the next round of break room conversation.

The evening flowed on until you found yourself savoring a bite of the molten lava cake you ordered for dessert, pairing it with an espresso martini your server suggested when you felt a hand brush against your back. Ari was crouched at your side, his blue eyes intense as you hastily swallow a bite of cake.

“I think you’ve had enough.” His eyes dart to the half full martini glass before settling back on you. “Wouldn’t want you to get sick.”

Not breaking eye contact you reach for your martini, bringing it to your lips and taking a generous sip. You don’t understand him. First he scolds you for working too much, and now he’s scolding you for having fun? Finishing the last of your drink in one gulp you get a rush of liquid courage, reaching out and poking Ari in his chest.

“I don’t understand you!” you hiss, your fuzzy mind telling you that leaning into Ari could knock him off balance giving you some space. But of course, you were no match for your broad chested boss. “You tell me I’m working too much on this work retreat so I stop. You tell me I need to relax so I relax! Seems like you don’t know what you want, so you should figure that out!”

Ari’s eyes widen, his eyebrow raising to his hairline before he breaks into a low chuckle. “Oh I know what I want, sweetheart,” he quips. “I think you need to admit to yourself what you want, or should I say who.”

There’s that look again, the one that makes your breath hitch and your walls clench. His eyes appear darker than usual as they do a sweep of your body. Your head is swimming and you need air, or at least to separate yourself from the heady cloud of desire that Ari’s trapped you in.

“I- I have to pee.” Standing and pushing past Ari and out of the restaurant to the adjacent ladies restroom. Your heart is hammering in your chest, and you feel like you're on fire, from the alcohol most likely, or was it Ari? Turning on one of the taps you wet our palm, dabbing water against your neck to cool yourself down. He’s your boss, you’re not crossing that line, you don’t care how handsome he is. You have plans for yourself, for your career. This assistant position was only a stepping stone, you’ve worked hard there’s no way you’re going to jeopardize your career over a fling with your boss.

Once you’ve gotten yourself together you hang a right towards the elevators coming out of the bathroom instead of left. You’ll figure out an explanation to your colleagues before breakfast tomorrow morning. You’re rounding the corner to your salvation when you slow your gait, the height of his recognizable frame almost bringing you to a stop.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re alright sweetheart,” He muses, a devilish twinkle in his eyes. “You got up in such a hurry and I was worried.” Rolling your eyes you press the button for the elevator, waiting in awkward silence, you wouldn’t dare look at him.

The elevator dings, and the doors begin to slide open. Before you can step inside, Ari swiftly moves in, joining you in the confined space. You press the button for your floor, and he chuckles softly, his eyes meeting yours. “You know, we’re actually going to the same floor,” he says with an amused smirk.

The elevator ascends, and with each passing floor the tension grows between you. The close proximity only intensifies the pull you feel towards him, making it even harder to maintain your professional resolve.

As the elevator comes to a stop and the doors open you step out, relief washing over you. The line between professional and personal has never felt so blurred, and you can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t going to be the end.

Glancing at the room numbers along the hallway you search for your own. To your surprise and growing unease you realize that not only are you and Ari on the same floor, but they are also right next to each other.

Ari notices your reaction and grins. “Looks like we’re neighbors,” he remarks, clearly amused by the situation.

You swallow hard, feeling a sense of dread mingled with the underlying attraction you can’t shake off. Ari leans against the doorframe of his room, watching you with a look that’s hard to decipher. “Well, it could be convenient,” he suggests, the double meaning not lost on you.

Forcing a smile, your mind races with the implications of this newfound proximity. “I guess we’ll see,” you reply cautiously, not wanting to encourage any further advances.

He nods, understanding the unspoken boundaries you’re trying to establish. “Goodnight,” he says softly, stepping back to enter his room.

“Goodnight,” you echo, grateful for the chance to finally escape the tension-filled atmosphere.

As you unlock your door and step inside, you can’t help but feel a mix of anticipation and apprehension. Being next door—and connected—to Ari’s room adds a new layer of complexity to the already complicated dance you’re doing with your boss.

You sigh with content to finally be back in your room, your temporary sanctuary away from home. As you get ready for bed, you can’t shake the lingering presence of Ari from your mind.

Despite your best efforts to maintain a professional distance, you find yourself irresistibly drawn to him. His confidence, his charm, the way he effortlessly commands attention— it’s all incredibly enticing. As much as you try to push these thoughts away they persist, fueling a desire that you know is risky and potentially damaging to your career.

Going through your nightly routine, you eventually slip into your pajamas, the satin fabric feeling cool against the heat of your skin. Sitting on the edge of the bed, your thoughts begin to wander. The memory of his cologne, his eyes following your every move, the magnetic pull you felt in the elevator- they all combine to create a potent mixture of attraction and longing.

Leaning back you spread your legs and slip your hand into the waistband of your shorts. Imagining your fingers are his as they spear between your soaked folds, biting your lip to stifle a moan when those same fingers circle your clit.

Just as you’re about to rip your shorts off to give yourself better access, a knock echoes through the room jolting you from the fantasies of your self-pleasure. Quickly, you get yourself together before unlocking and opening the door to see a sweatpant clad only Ari standing behind it.

“May I come in?” His voice is low and gravelly. You nod, stepping aside to let him into your space, the door clicking in place behind him. A shiver ripples down your spine as his presence consumes you.

Ari moves closer to you, his eyes never once leaving yours. The tension is thick between you, and as he closes the gap between your bodies he wraps a hand around the back of your neck, and you close your eyes, savoring the touch of his skin against yours. But just as you think he’s going to kiss you, he pulls away. “Kneel,” he commands, his voice firm and unyielding.

You stared at him for a moment, caught off guard by his change in demeanor. But the fire in his eyes was impossible to ignore, and you find yourself sinking to your knees in front of him.

Ari loosens the tie at the front of his sweats, letting his pants fall to the ground. His cock springs free, hard, thick, and leaking. You can’t help but stare, your mouth watering at the sight.

“Open your mouth,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. You do what you’re told, parking your lips wide. Ari’s cock slides across your tongue, and you close your lips around him, taking him in deep.

Ari groans, his fingers tangling into your hair as he begins to thrust. Moaning around him your own arousal begins to build as he grows even harder in your mouth. He’s hitting the back of your throat, and it’s all you can do to fight the urge to gag.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his thrusts growing faster and harder. “Take it all you little slut.”

A surge of pleasure zips through you at his words, and your cunt clenches with need. Reaching down you rub your clit through your shorts. You’re so sloppy your juices are staining the fabric.

Ari’s thrusts become erratic, his breathing ragged. You can tell he’s close, and you brace yourself for this impending release. With a grunt his cock twitches and he shoots his thick cum on your tongue and down your throat. You swallow greedily, relishing in the salty tang of his release.

Ari isn’t done with you yet. He pulls out of your mouth, his cock still hard. “Stand up,” he tells you, and although it’s on shaky legs, you do as he says and rise to your feet.

He pushes you down on the bed, lifting your ass up with one hand and yanking your shorts down with the other. Spreading your legs wide he dips his head between your thighs and his tongue wastes no time finding your clit. He licks and sucks, his fingers sliding inside of you. Your back is arching off the bed the closer you get to shattering.

Just as you’re about to come, Ari pulls away. He stands up, his cock glistening with your spit and remnants of his cum you didn’t get to swallow. “Beg for it,” he says, his eyes glinting in the lowlight.

“Please,” you gasp, and you can hear how desperate you sound. “Please Ari. Please fuck me.”

Ari grins, motioning you to scoot further back on the bed. He positions himself between your open legs, and he slides into your cunt in one thrust. You cry out as he bottoms out, digging your nails into his shoulders as he begins to move. His thrusts are hard and fast, each sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. Wrapping your legs around him you meet him thrust for thrust. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your moans growing louder as Ari deconstructs you.

“Come for me,” he growls, his fingers finding your clit. He rubs circles around your bud, his thrusts growing even faster and harder. You explode, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. Your body is shaking, and you feel yourself coming apart. Ari follows you over the edge, his own release triggering another wave of pleasure.

Both of you collapse on the bed, bodies slick with sweat. Ari wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, and you can feel his heart racing, matching the rhythm of your own.

For a moment you lay there, your breathing slowly returning to normal. But as the reality of what you’ve done sets in, you feel a twinge of guilt. You’ve slept with your boss, and you have no idea what it’s going to do to your career, and more importantly your reputation.

But as Ari’s fingers trace patterns along your skin, you can’t bring yourself to care. You’ve never felt so alive or so desired. And for now, that’s enough.

Tags: @biteofcherry @late-to-the-party-81 @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @km-ffluv @patzammit @seitmai @missvelvetsstuff @saiyanprincessswanie @infantasywonderland @smile1318 @emerald-evans @marvelwolf @winterschildren8 @isysen @flowerjewels

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donutloverxo · 10 days

Note

GG Steve and A, I, and/or R??

Well hello, Ro, sorry that this took so embarrassingly long 🥲

Here are some dirty thoughts from this game concerning my beloved Gentle Giant Stevie from Love on the Brain in scrambled order... you'll find the dirtiest and longest at the bottom (is this a pun? it's a bad pun). Technically, the you is his partner in every sense of the word aka Sparkles, but it can be read independently of the series.

Thots under cut. Warnings: they are 18+, okay- also there's very little editing, it's a headcanon, not an essay.

R - Routine (do they have a routine when it comes to picking up one night stands? do they have scheduled sex with their partner? are things spontaneous or planned ahead of time?)

One-night stands are no-no. Very much no no and they were even before he met you… but where scheduled sex is concerned the answer is also no. With your crazy schedules, it might make sense to try to plan so you can squeeze in some intimate together time, but with emergency missions… not so much. Things keep getting in the way (cough cough, there might be a ‘drabble’ about them getting actually frustrated at the lack of closeness and sexual encounters of theirs in general due to schedule conflicts). So spontaneity usually wins – certainly in a way of appreciating every moment you catch together. It doesn’t always have to be sexual per se, but it often ends up that way 😏 You had two years of pent-up sexual tension, can anyone blame you??? Not to mention that adrenalin and emotions can sometimes fly high, so if there is something routine-like, it’s winding down together after a mission, be it sweet and tender, all desperate hungry kisses with clashes of teeth, grasping and grabbing and fuck me we are alive, or celebratory god damn you were hot and capable and badass today. Does that count as a routine? One routine thing though; Steve is a man with a plan. Just because he doesn’t necessarily schedule sex, he is using his strategic mind to find windows in your calendar so you find time to be together. To take you out for a date for dinner, for a bike ride, or just lie under the stars and cuddle. Sure, these things often do result in intimacy of all kinds, but that man has a heart larger than his already impressive body and you fill a huge portion of it; it’s only fair you take up his time too.

P.S. The man is not only a planner but an overthinker often. Remember when it took you forever to sleep together for the first time? He ran his mind over thousands of scenarios, planned everything he’d say, everything he’d do, guessed how you’d react (and had some alone time over that a lot),how many times he’d get you off before he starts counting the times he will. Because he wants to treat you right and the one moment when you admitted a guy had been after getting you to bed and then instantly fled the so-called relationship since he got what he wanted is ingrained in his brain and he’ll do everything in his power to show you that he’s not him. Even if it means blue balls or might result in a supersoldier carpal tunnel issues.

Which gets us to:

A - Alone time (how do they get off when they’re all by themselves? do they watch porn, is it all in their imagination, do they jerk off, do they use toys?)

I’ll start with the last one: nah. There is no way he got his hands on toys in his original time and he was doing just fine and he doesn’t need them now. How would he even get them without half the globe learning about it? No thank you. He’s got hands. Two big hands. If you ever express interest in him using toys on you, he is all game and will get off on watching you squirm and nearly lose your mind to pleasure – which he will try to replicate on his own because dammit he will not have some toy satisfy you better, at least make it a cooperation dammit – but not on himself. Not when alone.

Steve’s a sensual, visual guy. He imagines a lot, but feels rather bad jerking off to a specific person, because it feels rather… invasive and unfair. So his mind conjures images, perhaps a combination of actual memories of voices and visuals (and yes, some inspiration might have come from porn, but he doesn’t downright puts on an adult movie and gets on it, nope), perfumes and scents, images of hands smaller than his on him he can mimic by his own touch and that is what gets him going… and off. If he has the time. He doesn’t have a problem with a quick work in a shower (which often is a solution and I know I share this headcanon with someone, cough cough).

The problem starts when you join. Because A, his need of alone time increases exponentially and B, his mind just. Wouldn’t let go. He’s damn ashamed of it, because you are friends and your friendship is sweet and teasing and maybe there’s a little bit of flirting, and the act itself feels like defiling you, but well, there’s the fact that he would like to defile you. He has so many memories of you filling his senses that get him off, even if they come from workout or from movie night or from perfectly innocent hugs. He feels like a creep and it’s utterly disrespectful to you, but he can’t help it. He tries to relief his conscience by not actively starting with imagining you.

In that sense, it is a real liberation to him when you get together, because he might need a lot of alone time then too before you take your relationship to that level, but at least his conscience is clean even as his mind is filthy.

Speaking of filthy mind… drabble-ish thots ahead.

I - Impact play (here’s where talking about things like spanking, paddles, canes, floggers and the like.) - not me having to google stuff on this

My instant reply was no. NOT STEVE. No violence in any form in the bedroom, not in intimacy. Violence is for battlefield, for missions. For training to a point, and even there he’s careful not to hurt you. When in bed, he might hold you a little too tight, grab a little too harsh, knead and squeeze and maybe suck enough to bruise when you feel just so good and he’s losing himself in you, losing control, but no hitting or slapping or-- nope. He earned the nickname of a Gentle Giant for a reason he might be sensual to a point of filthy, but if he hurt you (even if you asked), he couldn’t look himself in the eye in the mirror.

BUT ALSO.

He’s a handsy man. He does adore drowning all his senses in you, he loves exploring his lover’s body with all he has and he simply loves to touch at all times, feel the softness and warmth and slick, every curve, the thundering of your heartbeat under your skin with his fingertips or lips. To taste you where you let him. Inhale the scent your perfume, your arousal, the heady smell of sex in the air. To listen to the little or not so little noises, swallow them and let them melt on his tongue. To watch.

And that’s when it happens.

He didn’t mean to do it. He did not, and he’s horrified for a split second, because fuck he did not just- You were riding him. A glorious sight, pretty flushed face with slightly love-bitten lips and pupils blown with pleasure, breasts bouncing, muscles straining and little overworked from having mostly earned that previous orgasm on your own besides his lazy strokes over your clit and feeling where you were joined; you stilled for just a moment to get precious air into your lungs, breathy sounds of his name falling from your parted lips, so gorgeously fucked out and still needy for him and he could feel you so close again, his hand spread over your breast, over your hip, gripping and kneading your ass, your thigh and you were almost there, fluttering around him and he wanted one more, sweetheart, gimme one more, wanna feel you and he---

He meant to tap your thigh in encouragement when you started moving again, chasing your peak and it turned out to be more of a full-palm slap over the tempting curve of your ass and it was an accident, Steve would swear it.He froze, his thoughts faster than the reaction of your body, mind already flaring with horror and anxiety by the time your body caught up with what he had done nd had not meant to do and you-

You squeezed his cock so hard he felt it in his throat and he nearly choked, but mainly felt his groin spasm as you lost yourself to pleasure and all it took was a few rapid thrusts into your spasming burning heat and he was done for. Your juices coating his balls. His mouth slanting over yours on instinct even as the keen you released was the single lewdest soundhe had ever coaxed from you and his balls might be empty, but his chest is full of pride and his brain empty of thought but full of question marks, new fantasies and an image of you etched into his memory forever.

Your hips are still jerking minutely on instinct, your face now hidden in his shoulder, chest heaving beautifully against his, his lips kissing anywhere they can reach and holy damn. His hands grow softer, more comforting than exploring, mouth whispering sweet nothings even as they want to ask questions. You’ll tell him; he hopes you will. If there was one thing you were learning fast, it was communication; the last time you failed to communicate on a massive scale about how you felt, you ended up longing and lusting after one another for about two years. He’d rather not wait that long.

But he doesn’t press; in return, you press to him, peek at him shyly and kiss his lips sweetly, climbing off him only to settle in his lap anyway and hug him close, finger drawing non-sensical pattern on his shoulder and back until you both rise and rinse the sweat and other juices off your bodies in a shower together.

Only when in fresh sheets – the previous ones were beyond saving, at least for the night – when held close in his arms, gentle hands mapping out the familiar, and with sleep evading you despite the sleepiness and comfort of each other’s embrace, you confessed.

“I… I think I really liked it because I—I know you’d never hurt me,” you admit softly, earning a thoughtful hum at the half explanation.

“I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t expect that reaction either, but I’d never do it without asking first. You know that, right?”

“I know. That’s what I mean, GG. I trust you…” you remind him softly, even as you teeth worry over your still kiss-swollen lower lip. “But if you… liked it too, you can do it again. Sometime. I… you didn’t mean to do it, I get that, but you let yourself get lost in the moment. With me. You lost- you let go of control a bit… for me. You let go because you feel comfortable enough with me to do that. That means a lot to me. And… you feeling so good with me that you… lose it and take what you need – without hurting me besides a little fading red mark or a tiny bruise – makes me feel pretty damn powerful and proud too. Really wanted and desired… pretty golden.”

The admissions hang heavy in the air, your whole body buzzing with nerves, a little voice in your head sleazily whispering of judgement. Your Gentle Giant, looking at you with disdain, even as what you confessed weren’t all that scandalous. The things you had encountered in your BAU days made this look about as freaky as wearing a little lace. And yet… your body buzzes with nerves and a little thrill and the chances of falling asleep now are precisely zero.

The voice falls silent the second Steve turns you in his arms so you face him and you find him watching you with his smile warm, eyes blown wide and curious – and everything but tired just like you.

“I do trust you too,” he whispers, fingertips brushing your cheekbone, strand of hair from your face, eyes roaming your face until they fall a little lower, as if in shame. Even in the limited light, you can tell his face is burning too. “Where-- I’d always ask, but--- and never with force, I don’t want to hurt you, and never your face, I--- but if I ever… where?”

Your heart thunders in your ribcage. You gulp as with his every word, it leaps into your throat too, your body brimming with nervous energy. But he watches with such genuine curiosity and excitement, the plans no doubt already whirling in his head, the strategist, the planner, the lover, the pleaser… the little shit. Your GG.

Your face is aflame, your hand shakes a little as you take his and it’s both anxiety and arousal, something scalding hot pulsing in your core again, when you lead that hand to set on your bare hip.

His gaze is dead set on yours, watching your reaction; you know he picked up on your quickened breathing, as you guide his hand over the globe of your ass, over your outer thigh, skim over the front to slip on the inside, heading higher, under his hand is cupping your sex.

His gaze is smouldering. You nervously lick your lips, escaping the cage of his gaze because you cannot bear it anymore, a little whisper of shame returning to back of your head, but the moment you look away, his free hand – the other is still touching you – slides under your chin, thumb brushing over your lips. The thumb of his other hand does the same as he slips under your panties and moves to your slick sex and slightly swollen and oversensitive bundle of nerves. Erection poking your thigh. Mouth against yours, whispering.

“Good to know, sweetheart…” Rough. His voice is so rough and husky and his lips are slick and warm and filthy. “Anything for ya’. Love ya so much… got me so hard for you again… the things you do to me, I swear-”

He clearly picked up more than on you just liking just the touch alone; the filthy praise spills from his lips, empowering, and the late night finds you tangled in the sheets once more, languid deep kisses that consume you, the connection forged by a secret revealed, secret shared, whispering between you about next time, even as now is all that matters, all you feel.

Steve is an observant man; he still needs confirmation ahead, but he learns the signs. It’s not something you engage in often, but he recognizes that soft mewly quality to your sighs now, the special glint in your eyes barely even hinting you need it; and he gives. And since he has consent, he lets himself lose control with you a little bit more too.

-.-.-.

Ro, I think I read too many of your wonderful replies to this game that I adopted the manner in which you write them. Ehm. I hope that's okay with you.

Thank you for the ask 💕 It took forever, but it was fun ✨

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donutloverxo · 10 days

Note

There is a trend on some social media where the wife/Gf gives her man a full plate and only her self a little saying that is all that was left. How would Andy and Ari act in that situation?

What's Eating You, Mr. Levinson?

Summary: You decide to test your man's patience with a prank you saw on TikTok. CLICK HERE to read Andrew Barber's reaction to the same prompt.

Warnings: Mature Themes, References to Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, TikTok Hijinks, Brief Mention of Calorie Counting, Bickering, Manhandling, Threats of Spanking/Punishment, Discussion of a Sex Tape, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt brought to you courtesy of a Reader Request. This fic features Ari Levinson from my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

You weren’t quite sure what possessed you to do this. If anybody asked, you would claim temporary insanity. But right now you were about to get up to some mischief.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” You mutter under your breath as you adjust the position of the camera you hid tucked away behind a plant. Pleased with the angle, you make a mental note to revisit the world of Harry Potter sooner rather than later.

It was officially time for a reread.

Tonight you were gonna play a little joke on your bounty hunter boyfriend. One that you’d come across the other day after accidentally straying from the wonderful world of BookTok. You just hoped he would find it as amusing as you did. In fact, you were certain that he would.

Eventually.

Hands on your hips, you do an about-face and traipse back into the kitchen to get started on dinner. On tonight’s menu was a Tuscan pork roast, complete with red wine mushrooms and Haricots Verts – also known as French Green Beans. And for dessert, you’d decided to whip up your man’s favorite: key lime pie

So, even if he got pissed at you later, you were confident you had something that would soothe his ruffled feathers.

Fingers crossed.

Later that Evening…

The heady thrum of excitement hits you the moment you hear the open and shut of your front door. Having anticipated his arrival, you’d even thrown on a new dress and cued up a little music. While it wasn’t your usual style, you knew without a doubt that Ari would appreciate your efforts.

“Bird?”

The sound of your nickname has a smile forming on your lips before you even realize it. Smoothing your hands over your skirt, you make your way towards your mudroom, eager to greet your handsome bounty hunter.

His eyes light up the moment he sees you. He stands there for a moment, drinking in the sight you clad in your new black dress and wedge heels.

“Well, get a look at you.” He breathes, allowing his bag to drop at his feet next to his forgotten boots.

“You like?” Biting your lip, you give into temptation and do a little spin.

Confidence blooms when you hear his appreciative whistle. But that’s nowhere near enough for your man. Because now that you’d gone and given him a show, he wanted more.

“Oh baby, I love.”

Pulling you into his arms, his mouth quickly descends upon your own. His tongue wastes no time finding yours, exploring every inch, every corner of your mouth. He lets you know without words that he’s so unbelievably happy to be home holding you like this.

You cling to him, your hands roving beneath the soft fabric of his t-shirt to run along the sculpted plane of his back. When he finally lets you up for air it’s so he can nuzzle his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet, unique scent.

“You’re beautiful.” He rasps, pecking your lips once more, his large hands come up to frame your face. “So beautiful. Can’t wait to take this dress off you later, see what you might be hiding underneath.”

“All in good time, Beast.” Your lashes flutter closed as you lean into his touch. “All in good time.”

“What if I don’t wanna wait?” His husky growl rumbles from somewhere deep in his chest as he fiddles the material of your skirt.

“Well, you’re gonna.” Comes your cheeky response. “So go on and wash up for supper. We’re having something yummy.” You bat as his hands, intending to shoo him up the stairs.

The look that flashes across your man’s face makes it clear that he’d much rather have you for dinner instead. He boxes you in, slowly crowding you with his much larger frame as he backs you against a nearby wall.

However, you refuse to let yourself be swayed.

“I mean it, mister.” You repeat, poking him in the chest. “Now, be a good boy and go wash up.” Ari’s eyes darken at your words. His head dips without warning as he bites your finger, sucking the digit into his mouth, making you gasp.

“Alright, Duchess. Have it your way.” He growls once he finally deigns to release you. “You’d best be ready for me when I get back.” With that, he gives you his back as he strides off in the direction of the stairs.

“I ain’t scared of you.” You tell his retreating form, waiting until you hear his heavy footfalls sounding on the floor above you. Only then do you move, intending to finish setting up for dinner.

‘Alright, sugar.’ You think, taking a second to fluff your curls. ‘Time to earn yourself an Oscar.’

Fifteen Minutes Later…

You’ve just finished hiding away what’s left of your meal when you hear Ari make his way into your tiny dining room.

“Have a seat, Beast!” You call out, hoping that the act you were about to put on was at least mildly convincing. “I–I’ll be right in.”

Blowing out a breath you snag your bounty hunter’s plate, along with a glass of wine, and head into the next room. Although he admittedly wasn’t much of a wine drinker before he met you, he tended to enjoy whatever selection you paired with your meal.

Tonight you’d picked a lovely pinot noir.

This time when you see him, you’re treated to the sight of a freshly showered Ari lazily sprawled in one of your slightly too small chairs. His still damp hair is pushed back off his face as he waits for you, patiently biding his time while he plans his next move.

Or so you assumed, anyway.

“Here you are.” You sing as you approach. “Tonight I bring you an expertly roasted Tuscan pork loin, complete with a garlic and mushroom risotto and french-style green beans.”

“Smells good, baby.” He absentmindedly scratches at his jaw while he surveys the mountain of food on his plate.

“Hopefully it tastes good too.” You lean down to press a quick kiss against his temple. “I’ll, uh, be right back with mine.” The handsome brute smacks your ass when you turn to depart, making you yip.

“Hurry back.” He grunts, letting out a chuckle when he sees you trying to rub the sting out of your butt.

Seconds later you return with your food before quietly taking a seat at the table, all the while refusing to make eye contact. Picking up your napkin, you make a show of draping it across your knee, and then…

You wait.

It doesn’t take long for Ari to notice the differences between your respective plates, and it takes even less time for him to speak on it – much to your internal satisfaction.

“What the–?” Ari pushes his plate aside so that he can get a better look at your virtually empty one. “Where the hell’s the rest of your food, baby?” His deep voice comes out deceptively soft.

“Huh?” You cast him a sheepish glance, feigning embarrassment. “Oh this? It’s fine.”

“That’s not what I asked, Bird.” The quiet steel in his voice is impossible to miss.

“I know it wasn’t. But this was all that was left, so…” You trail off, averting your gaze in favor of using your fork to push food around your plate. “It’s fine.”

“There’s that damn word again.” You hear him grumble under his breath, his nostrils flaring in frustration. “I got news for you, Bird. It ain’t fine.” He grouses, reaching for you even as you shift away.

“But it is.” You sing, daintily fanning yourself with a napkin.

“No it isn’t.” He sings right back, clearly not understanding your game. Which was a good thing. It meant that you two could play a little longer.

“Look, if this is about you feeling like you need to start counting calories again…” Ari goes to rest his elbows on the table, his own meal all but forgotten. “Then please believe me when I tell you that you look phenomenal. And not just tonight, baby. I mean every night.”

You feel your cheeks heat as your body responds to his praise. That familiar warmth soon spreads, pooling in your belly while you mentally preen at his words.

“Thank you, Ari.”

“Oh don’t thank me, sweet girl.” His already husky voice dips another octave. “I just want you to eat.” You stifle a small shiver when the roughened pads of his fingertips lightly graze over your hand. “Now, do me a kindness and take your pretty little self back into that kitchen and fix yourself a proper plate.”

And there it was. He thought you were lying about there not being any leftovers. He was right, of course. Just not the way he thought he was.

“I would if I could, sugar.” You stretch out your legs beneath the table as you prepare to really sell the narrative. “Honest. But there really isn’t anything left. I…accidentally only bought one pork loin instead of two. And then I misjudged the recipe for the risotto, but that was most likely on account of the fact that I was in my feelings about the state of Herb & Twine’s green beans selection. It wasn’t very good.”

Ari doesn’t tell you this, but he’s actually impressed by your ability to speak that fast without so much as taking a breath. Instead all you receive is a gruff “uh huh” for your trouble.

“So,” You forge on, now fully committed to the bit. “I salvaged what I could out of the meal I planned and then gave most of it to you.”

“Why?”

Boy, he did not look happy. Which was great news for you

“Because…” You draw out the word, wincing when you belatedly notice the sudden tick in his jaw. “I just…felt like you shouldn’t have to suffer for my mistakes.”

“Oh.” He hums, pursing his lips as he mulls over your story. “Well, I reckon we’ll just have to fix that.”

Unsure of what he means, you open your mouth to keep talking, only to let out a shriek when Ari suddenly reaches over to grip the back of your chair to drag you, and it, over closer to him.

“Christ, Beast!” Your hand flies to your still-heaving chest as you will your heartbeat to calm down.

But your man’s not done yet.

You scarcely have time to catch your breath before you’re hauled into his lap. Immediately your arms go to weave themselves around his neck to keep you from falling. Not that Ari would’ve ever allowed that to happen.

Seemingly unbothered by your rather dramatic response, Ari seeks to balance you on top of his muscled thighs as he leans over again to retrieve your plate. You watch in confusion as he unceremoniously dumps the contents onto his own dish before setting yours aside once more.

“Hate to break it to you, Duchess.” He seamlessly adjusts your positions so that he can grasp his knife and fork. “But I don’t need all this food. So it looks like we’ll just have to share.”

Momentarily stunned by this turn of events you can only nod as he feeds you a tender bite of pork. It takes a moment for you to find your voice, but when you finally do, it’s to utter two simple words.

“Ari, wait.”

“‘Fraid I’m not really in the mood to wait.” Your impatient bounty hunter warns. But he does pause his efforts, his fork hovering mere centimeters from your mouth. “You’re nuts if you think I’m the kinda man who would even consider stuffing himself while his lady sits by and starves.”

“I know.” You assure him before rearranging your body so that you’re facing him, your thighs now straddling his hips. “And I think that’s awfully sweet.”

“Great. So how about you –”

“But since this is a prank…” The grin you’re sporting threatens to split your face in two. “It looks like you get to keep your food.”

Ari blinks back at you, his mouth briefly opening and closing in a way that very much reminds you of a fish. You feel positively giddy as you press your hands on either side of his bearded face so you can plant a kiss on his full lips while he tries, and fails, to make sense of what you just said.

“Run that by me one more time.” His quiet snarl is enough to have you soaking your panties.

“I saw this thing on TikTok, where these women all decided to prank their boyfriends by serving them this big ol’ plate of food, while pretending to give themselves only a little bit and claiming that was all that was leftover. They filmed their reactions and posted ‘em for everyone else to see.”

“What the hell is a fuckin’ TikTok?”

“It’s this app where you…” You pause as you try to find the right words. “Where people can, um–”

“Post dumb shit?” He quirks a tawny brow as he tries to remain serious, even though you’re also pretty sure that you just saw his lips twitch. “Come up with new and inventive ways to torture the men that love them?”

“I mean, that’s not all it is.” You take a moment to whisper kisses along his chiseled jaw. “But I guess that’s a pretty accurate description.”

“Hmph.” Your grumpy bounty hunter continues to glower at you, even as his large, warm hands move to settle on your hips. “And am I right to assume you’re recording this?”

“Maybe…” You giggle, not bothering to hide just how funny you found this all to be. “Oh – but I was never gonna post it. Promise.”

You hold up your pinky, trying your hardest to look solemn. But the look Ari gives you lets you know that he’s done falling for your act.

“I’m warning you, Duchess.” He grunts, lightly bouncing you on his lap. “I swear to God, if I catch myself on that fuckin’ tock clock…thing…you have my word that I’m gonna redden that ass.”

“I already told you I wasn’t gonna.” You reassure him once more, resting your forehead against his. “By the way, thanks for bein’ such a good sport about the whole thing.”

“No problem.” He flashes you a feral grin, revealing his pearly white teeth. It shoots straight to your core. “But the way I see it, you kinda owe me one. Don’t you?” He leans in close as his hands begin gently kneading your curves.

“Um…I don’t think–” You let out a soft whimper when he drags his nose along the delicate column of your throat.

“Oh, but I do.” He nips at your jaw.

“I suppose that’s fair.”

“Trust me, it is.” His sensual growl has you practically shivering with need. “Which is why you’re gonna show me where you hid that camera.” His lust-filled gaze drops to your cleavage as he openly begins undressing you with his eyes.

“Now hold on a minute, Beast –” You stammer once realization dawns.

“Aw, don’t fret.” Ari’s rueful chuckle lets you know that you will never win this battle. “You’ll have your turn to direct our little movie.” Ari suddenly stands without warning so that he can gently deposit you back in your own chair. “Especially now that I know how much you love performing for the camera.

Oh, the man had you there. Sometimes your Beast was a bit too cunning for your liking.

“I don’t think–” You try again, now feeling shy. “What we do in the dark has no business being on film!”

“Hm, guess we’ll just have to keep the lights on. But for now, let’s get you fed.” He drops a kiss on your head before picking up your empty dish and sauntering off towards the kitchen. “We’ll talk lighting and camera angles once you’re finished.”

Good Lord on high. What had you just gotten yourself into?

“Here we are.” Ari continues upon his return a few minutes later. He sets your down in front of you before taking your napkin and redraping it across your lap. “But I’d eat fast if I were you.”

“Um…why?” You ask, eyeing him warily.

“Because.” He winks at you before taking a seat and enthusiastically spearing a piece of meat onto his fork. “Tonight’s dress rehearsal starts in thirty minutes.”

END

Sweet Renegade Series Tag List

@katymae12344

@identity2212

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@blackhawkfanatic

@jamneuromain

@queerqueenlynn

@pono-pura-vida

@daykrisr999

@jamneuromain

@ninacutebee16

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