mayhaps michael winning david a bat plushy from a claw machine? another one could be what everyone gets each other for secret santa? movie!lost boys reacting to watching the musical and vice versa?
I think receiving a gift from someone would melt him
I think heβs more protective than possessive honestly.
Everyone on the boardwalk knows youβre his. No one bothers you. Itβs quite nice.
Quiet about his feelings at first. Tries to deny them and pushes them down. With some coaxing from his brothers he eventually raise their fists in victory.
Everyone knows you two are in love BUT you two
Not big on PDA but when someone gets to close, heβll start kissing on your neck, eyeing down whoever is talking to you.
Motorcycle rides all the time.
He wants you to be his mate. Forever. He takes it very seriously. He wants you to be ready for eternity with him.
Isnβt big on nicknames, but will call you babe every once in a while.
Make out sessions in his βthroneβ.
You two are the king and queen of the boardwalk tbh
Very affectionate in private. Hell nuzzle into you and be so soft around you. The boys make fun of him for it to which David hisses at them for it
Has the night he is going to turn you all planned out in his head. Everything must be perfect.
Your laugh is his favorite sound.
You two often join him in his hunts. His violence doesnβt scare you anymore. Now you just roll your eyes at his dramatics.
HATES seeing you upset. Absolutely hates it. Heβd take all your pain, whether it be physical, mental, emotional if he could. He wish you could just give it all to him.
Sees red when/if you start crying. Whatever reason, even if youβre upset at him, he hates it.
Need a night where you can just let go? David has got you. Heβll hypnotize you to help you sleep, or just relax for a while. Heβll help you through it, whatever it is.
Sleeps better when youβre in the cave, he knows youβre safe, even when heβs asleep.
Always shares his cigarettes/joints with you.
Hates Max, but often goes to him for advice on how to court you and be the perfect mate for you.
All in all the boys are just happy David has you in his life because heβs calmed the fuck down lol. And yes they do ship it.
Absolutely no AI was used in writing this. You do not have permission to repost, upload, or translate onto any other platforms.
βThe alliance is to be sealed by a marriage, it says. In return for Dorneβs help overthrowing the Usurper, my brother Viserys is to take Prince Doranβs daughter Arianne for his queen.β
βIf my brother Viserys had known that he had a Dornish princess waiting for him, he would have crossed to Sunspear as soon as he was old enough to wed.β - Daenerys VII, ADWD
βYet such was the cunning of his mind and mouth, and the strength of his hidden will, that ere three years had passed he had become closest to the secret counsels of the King; for flattery sweet as honey was ever on his tongue, and knowledge he had of many things yet unrevealed to Men.β
Youβre on your back and heβs already inside you when the insecurity hits hard.
The lamp on the nightstand is too bright. You didnβt think about it when he pushed you down and shoved your legs open. Now every time he thrusts you feel the soft jiggle of your stomach, the way your thighs spread wider than you want them to, the silver stretch marks across your hips catching the light. You try to pull the sheet up over your middle. Your arm gets in the way of his chest and he makes a low frustrated sound, catches your wrist, and pins it to the mattress beside your head.
βStop,β he mutters, voice rough from breathing hard. βDonβt do that.β
You turn your face into the pillow anyway. βThe light...β
βFuck the light.β He doesnβt slow down. His hips keep rolling, thick and deep, the wet sound of it loud in the quiet room. βLook at me.β
You donβt. Your free hand slides down and tries to cover the softest part of your belly, the place that folds when he presses in. He notices. Of course he does. Soldier Boy notices everything he decides is his business.
He lets go of your wrist only long enough to bat your hand away, then plants both of his on either side of your waist and holds you open. His thumbs dig into the plush skin there, right over the stretch marks.
βBenββ
βI can see you,β he says, almost angry about it. βYouβre trying to disappear while Iβm fucking you. Cut it out.β
Your eyes burn. You hate that your voice comes out small. βI just, I donβt look likeββ
βLike what? Like a fucking magazine?β He drives in harder, sharp enough that your breath catches. βI donβt want a magazine. I want this.β One hand leaves your waist and slides under your thigh, hauling it higher so he can get deeper. The new angle makes your stomach press more against his and you flinch. He feels it. βYou keep tensing up every time your body moves. Like youβre ashamed of the way it feels when Iβm in you.β
You bite your lip. βItβs soft.β
βYeah.β He says it like itβs obvious. βItβs soft. It gives. It feels fucking good.β He leans down, forehead against yours, still thrusting in that steady, heavy rhythm that makes the bed creak. βYou think I care that your stomach isnβt flat? That youβve got marks? Iβve got scars older than some countries. Youβre not broken.β
A small, embarrassed sound slips out of you. You try to turn your face away again and he follows, kissing the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then the side of your neck, open-mouthed and a little desperate.
βKeep your hands where I can see them,β he mutters against your skin. βNo covering. I want to feel all of it.β
You leave your hands above your head, fingers curling into the sheets. Itβs hard. Every deep thrust makes your body move in ways that feel too much, too visible. The soft slap of his hips against yours. The way your breasts shift. The stretch marks on your inner thighs pulling tight when he spreads you wider. You can feel yourself getting wetter anyway, traitorous, and he groans when he notices.
βThere you go,β he says, voice lower now. βThatβs better. Stop fighting it.β
He shifts, hooks one of your legs over his arm, and starts fucking you properly, long, hard strokes that force little punched-out sounds out of your throat. His free hand stays on your belly the whole time, palm spread wide, not pushing down or trying to hide anything, just, there. Holding the softest part of you while he uses the rest.
βFeel that?β he asks, breathless. βHow you take me? How wet you get even when youβre busy hating yourself?β He grinds deep and stays there a second, rolling his hips so you feel every inch. βThatβs not nothing. Thatβs you wanting this. Wanting me.β
You nod, eyes wet. βI do. I justββ
βI know.β He kisses you properly then, slower than the rest of him is moving. When he pulls back his voice is quieter. βYou donβt have to look perfect for me to want to stay inside you. You already are. Soft and marked up and mine right now.β
Something in your chest loosens. Not all the way. But enough that when he starts moving again you donβt try to hide. You let your hands come down and hold onto his shoulders instead. Your legs stay open. The light stays on. And every time he bottoms out and your body shifts under him, he makes a low, rough sound like itβs exactly what he wanted.
He comes first this time, deep, hips stuttering, a bitten-off curse against your throat, then keeps going until you follow, shaking and quiet and holding onto him like you might float away if you donβt. Afterward he doesnβt pull out right away. Just stays heavy on top of you, one hand still resting on the soft curve of your stomach, thumb stroking absently over a stretch mark like itβs nothing special and everything at once.
summary: The one time Ben doesnβt slap your ass.
π β Soldier Boy & Fem! Reader β’ ( 1.1k-ish ) mostly ooc. established relationship. fluff/maybe a little angst?
Inspired by @abbotsbunnygf !! Go check out her work if you like The Pitt/Shawn Hatosy. Itβs sooo good β‘
Ben was really starting to piss you off. Itβs been exactly twelve hours since he last touched you.
Youβd been keeping score in your head all day. First, he hadnβt slung an arm over your shoulders while you two were watching TV last night. Then, no rough kiss pressed to the top of your head when you shuffled into the kitchen this morning. No teasing pinch at your hip when you squeezed past him to grab a coffee mug. Nothing.
But, Worst of allβ¦ heβd stopped his favorite pastime: Smacking your ass every time you bent over.
Like now, for example. Youβre bent over the edge of the soaking tub, scrubbing at a spot that honestly didnβt need scrubbing. Mostly because you were bored. Mostly because sitting still for more than five minutes had never really been your thing.
The oversized t-shirt youβd stolen from Ben rode up with every stretch of your arm, cool air brushing the skin of your thighs where your sleep shorts ended.
Then you heard it.. Heavy, familiar footsteps coming down the hall.
Ben wandered into the bathroom, muttering under his breath about where the hell his razor had disappeared to. He reached past you for the shaving cream sitting on the shower caddy, close enough that his body heat just barely ghosted over your back.
His hand hovered for the briefest second. Fingers flexing. Palm spread open. Muscle memory was about to win.
Then.. Nothing.
He caught himself and pulled his hand back. Like it had never crossed his mind at all.
You straighten up slowly, soapy sponge still in hand, suds dripping down your arm as you stare at him with furrowed brows, watching as he pops open the cap of the shaving cream up like everythingβs perfectly normal.
ββ¦Ben?β You mutter, almost offended.
He glances over, eyebrow raised. βYeah?β
βYou walked right past me. Bent over. Ass basically out. And you didnβt do shit.β
He pauses, looking genuinely confused. βWas I supposed to?β
Your face heats up with a mixture of embarrassment and confusion. This man has slapped your ass every single time youβve given him the chance for months. Washing dishes? Smack. Reaching into a low cabinet? Smack. Standing up from the couch? Smack. Never justβ¦ nothing.
You set the sponge down. βYou didnβt even touch me.β
Ben huffs, turning back to the mirror. βDidnβt realize was on a fuckinβ schedule.β
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The weirdness doesnβt stop there. Later you walk past him in the living room and he almost reaches for you. His hand lifts halfway, gearing up.. just to give your back a light, polite tap instead. You stop dead in your tracks, mouth dropping open.
βSomething wrong?β he asks, eyes glued to the TV.
You donβt give him a proper answer. Instead, you bend over to grab a magazine off the coffee table, just to test himβ¦ Still nothing! He just keeps his gaze steady on the screen.
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By dinner youβre officially freaked out. Heβs frighteningly tame. He hasnβt made any stupid comments. Hasnβt pulled you down into his lap. Hasnβt made a single dirty joke all day. Justβ¦ nice. Respectful even. You donβt think heβs ever been this quiet around you before.
You finally snap that night in the bedroom. Climbing up onto the bed and straddling his lap before he can even settle against the headboard.
βSo what the hell is going on?β you ask, poking his chest. βYouβve been acting weird all day. Did I do something? Are you mad at me?β
Benβs hands settle on your thighs, warm and steady but not wandering like usual. He looks surprised. βMad? Fuck no. Why would you think that?β
βBecause you didnβt slap my ass this morning when I was literally bent over right in front of you,β you mutter, half dramatic, half serious. βYou always do it. Every time. And today? I got nothing. I hate it and I miss you.β
He watches you for a long second, jaw tight. Then he lets out an exasperated sigh and rubs a hand over his face.
βFiguredβ¦β He pauses. βAh, hell.β
He looks almost embarrassed.
βSome limp-dicked suit at Vought.. βwas running his mouth about how I should show you some more respect now that weβre serious. Said I act like an animal sometimes. Got me thinkingβ¦ maybe you were just puttinβ up with it. With me. I was trying to dial it back. Be less of an asshole for once.β
You stare at him for a second, heart twisting in your chest.
βBen,β you say softly, leaning closer. βYouβre an idiot.β
He raises an eyebrow, the hint of a smirk trying to come back. βYeah?β
βYeah.β You gently cup his face with both hands and kiss him, slow and warm. When you pull back just enough, your foreheads rest together.
βI wouldβve told you if it bothered me,β you mutter, soft and quiet. βI like that you canβt keep your hands off me. Thatβs how I know weβre good. Donβt try to be someone else. I want you exactly like this.β
Benβs voice comes out quieter than youβve ever heard it. ββ¦You really mean that?β
You smile, brushing your thumb over his cheek. βI do.β
That does it for him. The tension melts out of his shoulders and his hands slide up your thighs, grabbing your ass with both palms, squeezing hard like heβs been waiting to do it all day.
βGoddamn, sweetheart,β he sighs against your lips. βYou sure? βCause Iβve been fuckinβ dying to do that all day.β
A small smile pulls at your lips, holding his gaze. βPositive.β
He lets out a deep laugh, the sound rumbling in his chest as he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you fully.
βThatβs my girl. Fuckinβ missed this. Thought I was gonna lose my shit trying to keep my hands to myself.β
He presses a kiss to your forehead, then your temple, holding you tight. You melt into him, gently punching his chest just to hear him groan.
βDonβt ever do that stupid shit again, you hear me?β
βNever,β he promises, voice warm and gruff. βYou want me like this? Thatβs what youβre gettinβ. Every damn day.β
You laugh quietly and bury your face against his shoulder, tugging at the dog tags hanging from his neck. He wraps his arms around you tighter and presses another kiss to the top of your head.
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The next morning youβre back in the bathroom, organizing the cleaning products under the sink. Ben walks in while youβre bent over reaching for the bottles in the back. Without a bit of hesitation this timeβ¦ his hand cracks down hard on your ass, the sound echoing off the tiles.
You give a surprised yelp, then throw him a look over your shoulder, trying (and failing) to seem annoyed.
βMorning, doll,β he says smugly, squeezing the same spot before pulling you back against his chest. βThereβs my favorite fuckinβ view.β
You lean into him with a dramatic sigh. βWelcome back, you big idiot.β
snowghoul
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
gummygunk
yousharknotpass
