#*/only memories are left for me to hold : ooc/
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lightsblinded · 1 month ago
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Apologies for being slow I am adjusting to meds and being stupidly busy but I should catch up tonight and tomorrow.
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azlrse · 7 months ago
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➳ 10 years later (a sol brugmansia x gn!spouse!reader drabble)
cw: yandere themes, mentions of murder & injuries (in the past), themes of obsession and possessiveness, mc and sol had a kid together (consensually & can be depicted as biological/adopted), ooc!sol (writing him for the first time), domestic au, overall fluff w/ a bit of angst
a/n: there's only a few fics of sol from tkatb vn and im a bit disappointed ngl so imma contribute (and planning on writting for tkatb hehe). but pls note that this game is for adults (18+) only and respect the creator's wishes in terms of playing the game (minors stay away plss)
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"papa.." a small voice snapped the thoughts of sol as he stared into the painting he created a decade ago; a painting whom he considered as a masterpiece, a memorabilia and serves as a core memory of his entire life. sol's head turned downward and saw his own daughter raising her hands indicating that she wants to get some upsies. (e/c) colored eyes stared at his reddish ones, now soften as he picks up the little girl from the ground. "yes, munchkin?" sol replied to hazel, her little fingers pointing at the figure next to her father.
his head turned to see what, or whom rather, his little girl is pointing towards. "who's the person next to you?" he stared your portrait next to him, dressed in an all white attire while holding a bouquet of forget-me-nots and a brugmansia flower is seen on the top of your head as a gleaming smile is shown on the portrait.
the same portrait he painted all those years ago.
he looks at hazel, an awestruck smile is seen on his face. "that's your mama/dada. they're looking majestic and radiant, aren't they?" the little girl nodded in return, jumping within his arms as if to express on what her father is saying is true all along. "mama/dada is indeed radiant! like a shooting star passing through the sky!" sol let out a soft chuckle at his daughter's answer.
that remind of sol about someone, where are you anyway?
just as he is about to ask hazel on where you are, the door opened revealing his precious spouse, carrying loads of paper bags from the trip to the grocery store. hazel quickly jumped off from her father and quickly clinged into your leg. "mama/dada, you're home!!" she squeaked and giggled as you continuously walked into the kitchen whole carrying what you've bought an hour ago. "hazel, watch it or you might hit your head on the ground." you said out of concern, placing the bags on the counter quickly and carried your daughter into your arm, giving her a kiss on the forehead.
"no kisses for me?" sol teasingly asked while giving you a pouty face. "of course, you deserve one too, dear." putting down hazel on the ground, you quickly leaned in and kissed him on the lips and felt a pair of hands on your waist, pulling you closer towards his black tank top. hazel let's out a gag, trying to separate the both of you from your declaration of love from one another. "that's disgusting!" hazel exclaimed, pulling her father off of you. "I want more kisses mama/dada!!" you laughed from the commotion that took place in front of you.
"one day, you'll be just like this with someone you truly love, zel." you spoke, still clinging into your husband's arm. "don't wanna, that's disgusting." hazel replied, pouting as her arms crossed in between her chest. her father shrugged and proceeded to place a kiss on your cheek. "who knows," sol said, staring directly at you. "you may find someone whom you considered as a soulmate, like your mama/dada here."
your eyes widen a bit from being flustered, slapping his arm lightly. "oh hush you, you never failed to make me like this even after 10 years of marriage." a laugh emitted from the both of you as hazel continuously pouted from her parents answer. the sound of laughter faded away from his ears and only what's left is the sound of ringing. from the inner depths of sol's mind, he will never forget how far he can go for him to obtain this domestic life.
all the bloodshed..
his possessiveness..
the smell of iron and the familiar grip of a sharp object..
obsession and greed to keep (m/c) all to himself..
and all thanks to that, he obtained the family he always wanted, a family that is far more different than his. no abuse, no bruises or harm is present within his little family. just you, his precious pumpkin and his little munchkin.
he hopes that you'll never know the truth on what happened to crowe. who knows? maybe he went on another country to pursue his master's or doctorate? or perhaps also having a family of his own and awaiting for his message to meet his children.
or is it??
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final a/n: named the daughter 'hazel' since it's associated with autumn and pumpkins (the endearment sol referring to the player), couldn't picked a better name i apologize :'>>
Do not republish, edit, or repost to other websites. Reblogs and likes are appreciated! 💕
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heartlogan · 4 months ago
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the story ends
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✮— logan x f!reader (set in xmen days of future past)
✮— summary: the day that logan lost you
✮— a/n: again, only my second time writing for logan so be gentle pls, i specialise in angst but this isn’t my best </3 (also, could be connected to all coming back to me — my first logan fic. no reading order!)
✮— warnings: probably ooc! MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, depictions of dying, it’s set in the original timeline so it is sad, talk of loss and death, one (1) moment of affection, major angst, guilt, sentinels, canon typical violence, & gore (ish, but to be safe), BLOOD, pronoun ‘she’ used, unspecified mutant reader, lmk if theres more!
MASTERLIST
✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶
There are so many things you had lived to regret in your life, so many things that you had dwindled on instead of simply moving forwards. And in the end, none of it had ever mattered. No matter what you had or hadn’t done, life had led you here — to the very end of the world.
You hadn’t fought in wars like Logan had, weren’t used to the brutality of it all. Fighting, and battles, all of that you were familiar with. But not this. This was on another level.
The X-Men had been helpless to fight against this, unable to resist such a tidal wave of hatred and murder. The Sentinels had destroyed so many of your kind already, that there were barely any of you left to fight anyway. And those of you who had lived through the initial slaughters had been scattered across the globe, made to search for one another while constantly trying to evade those seeking n you out to kill you.
It was exhausting. All of it. And it wasn’t only you who felt that way — those remaining were all tired. Tired of the constant movement, tired of the constant loss, tired of the neverending chase. You could see it on everyone’s faces — Charles looked as bad as you had ever seen him, struggling to cope with the loss of almost all of his students. And Ororo, you could tell, was fighting to hold herself together. She had lost too many people, too many friends. Magneto was no stranger to loss, especially like this, but it was written all over him, too.
And there was Logan.
Logan who, in all the time you had known him, had never stopped fighting. For all of that to be in vain was clawing at him, tearing him down. There was a new age to him, and you weren’t talking about the grey hairs that seeped from his temples. He seemed far too old to still be fighting, to still spend every living moment trying to stay alive, trying to keep those he cared about safe. Everyone had lost so much since the Sentinels appeared.
“How much longer do you think we can stay here?” You asked Storm, gazing out at the sky ahead of you, glancing back towards the jet that was stood on the makeshift runway. She stayed quiet long enough for you to grow concerned and look her way, and you saw the unease to her stance. “We need to leave, don’t we?”
“It’s not safe.” She replied distantly, looking out towards the cloudy sky. Your brows furrowed instantly, and you turned to look at the clouds once more.
“Nowhere is safe, Ororo.” You stated firmly, trying not to let the emotion betray you in your voice. She seemed to come back to herself at your words, and you just about registered her turning to look at you. You hadn’t said anything that she didn’t already know to be true, but still, the delivery of the fact left her with a stinging feeling in her chest. An aching sort of pain, a longing for a home that none of you could ever return to.
She thought of the mansion, and tried to force her way past the memories of it torn apart, destroyed. It was easy to forget, in times like these, exactly how things had been before. But Storm could practically envision it all in her mind, the bustling halls between classes, the crackle of fire as the adults shared a drink after a rough battle, the constant noise of mutants embracing their powers.
That was meant to be a mutant safe haven, and it was gone. She knew you were right — nowhere was safe for your kind, not anymore.
“I know.”
You let her words settle, and chose to linger and look at the view, even as Storm turned and made her way back to the plane.
Admittedly, the view wasn’t much, but it was nice to see the sky without a plane of glass in the way. All of you spent so much time inside the jet now, barely able to land without Sentinels descending upon you. It was somewhat safer in the sky, although there had been some close calls.
The wind whistled in your ears, a welcome breath against your skin, and you easily preferred this to the way it usually whipped against the side of the jet.
You heard the shuffle of feet in your direction before you felt his presence, a warm hand coming to rest on the small of your back. It was soothing, warming you up as you let the cold breeze surround you.
“‘S almost time to go,” Logan told you, speaking quietly. His gruff voice still sent shivers down your spine, despite his warm hand on your back. He turned to look down at you after a second, eyes scanning over the entirety of you, analysing. “You ready?” He asked after another moment, knowing you always tried to take in as much of the fresh air as you could.
“I’ll just be a sec.” You responded calmly, breathing in deeply, finding comfort in the way his palm moved with your body. When he didn’t move, you turned to look at him, finding him still watching you. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but smile at his loving gaze, albeit somewhat weakly. You placed a hand on the side of his face, brows creasing. “Everything okay, Logan?” You asked, concerned, because he seemed off, even though everything in the world was off. It was something more than that.
He nodded as your thumb stroked his cheekbone, trying to provide some amount of comfort in a world where comfort didn’t exist.
“I’ll wait with you.”
You smiled, trailing your hand down from his face until you reached his own palm, which you gripped tightly.
Slowly, you noticed the sun beginning to shine on the horizon. You knew you needed to be gone before it had risen fully. “Don’t worry, I’m right behind you.” You said reassuringly, tilting your head and squeezing his palm tightly at his uncertain look. “Promise.” You added, and he hesitated for a moment longer, before turning away, squeezing your hand once in return before he let it go fully.
He seemed reluctant to leave your side, even as he walked away. You shook your head, grinning softly, glad for the few good things you had left in your life. Logan was everything to you — he had been for more than a few years.
You took one more glance at the rising sun, before turning away, ready to head after Logan. But then your head tilted, brows furrowing in confusion. There was a buzzing feeling in your hands, your heart speeding up its pace, and you looked around in concern.
That was when you saw it — the Sentinel heading straight for the jet on the right.
Ororo was closest, and she hadn’t seen it yet.
“Storm! On your right!” You yelled, desperation leaking into your voice as you watched her spin, finally noticing the murder bot creeping up on her. Even from this distance, you could see the way her eyes went white, lighting up as the wind picked up suddenly, rain slowly starting to leech from the clouds above that were quickly multiplying with the force of Storm’s power.
You couldn’t breathe a sigh of relief as she struck it with lightning, summoning winds to throw it over the edge of the cliff side, because you knew it wasn’t over — more were coming, if they weren’t already here.
Starting towards Logan, you only just registered the way his eyes widened and he moved towards you before it dawned on you.
You hadn’t checked your six.
Before you could even turn, you felt it.
When you looked down, you saw the Sentinel spearing you through the stomach, the wound far too big to comprehend.
Blood was tickling the back of your throat, and you couldn’t even swallow around it. It was too late, you noticed distantly, as you looked towards where Logan was trying to get to you, seeming as though he was moving in slow motion.
The Sentinel ripped its limb from your body, and your knees buckled, sending you to the ground.
It was a very far away realisation, the fact that you would die here, in mere moments. Instead, your main focus was Logan, watching the anguish and denial plaster his face. You barely heard the other Sentinels rising from the cliff side behind you, but you knew they were there.
And you knew that the others knew it too.
Storm had made her way towards Logan, and you hadn’t even noticed how close she was to him before then. She must’ve noticed the Sentinel approaching you at the same time he had. Her face was painted with grief, evident in every crease of her expression, in the very way she moved. She placed her palms against Logan’s chest, and pushed.
“Logan, it’s too late. Please. It’s too late. We need to go.” Ororo begged, her voice shaking with every word that left her mouth. She couldn’t bring herself to look at you, to see the blood that had started trickling from the corners of your mouth, painting your skin. She didn’t want to see the life leave your eyes.
“Logan!” Charles’ voice raised, trying to be heard over Storm’s power. Logan hadn’t even heard his wheelchair in the jet, too focused on the way you looked at him, your eyes dimming with every moment he couldn’t get to you.
He felt Erik before he had even realised the man had descended the ramp, felt the pull of his powers. The way he forced Logan’s skeleton to bend to his will, to step away from you. From the love of his life. The only thing he had managed to keep hold of in this apocalyptic world.
“No, no, no, no,” Logan begged, yelling for you, waiting for you to snap out of it, to just get up. “C’mon! C’mon, get up!” He yelled, trying to push against Erik’s power, but finding he couldn’t even take another step towards you. He felt Storm push harder on his chest, but he didn’t notice, too busy watching the way your head tilted, your eyes glassy, the way your lips lifted at the edges, showing just a flash of bloody teeth. You smiled at him.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Storm said, as Erik finally managed to pull Logan some steps back, going up the ramp.
It was the hardest Logan had ever fought against his power, which made lifting the plane simultaneously all the more difficult. But Erik focused his mind, pulling the plane from the ground as Storm finally released Logan to press the button to lift the ramp.
“She’s gone, Logan.” Charles said sadly, feeling the way your consciousness drifted from his grasp.
Logan just caught the slump of your body to the ground through the swarm of Sentinels as the ramp closed fully. Erik allowed him to fall to his knees when he realised he had stopped fighting, but kept a loose grip on the adamantium in his skeleton out of fear that he might tear apart the plane to get to your body.
A sullen silence took over the jet, everybody resigned to loss by now, but for Logan this was different. He stared at the ramp, unable to get the image of your empty eyes out of his mind. Your body, slumped on the ground, left there to rot.
And all he could think was that if he had only stayed with you, you might still be here. If it weren’t for him, you might be alive.
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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 5 months ago
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Chapter 18: First Impressions Are Often Correct
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter eighteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 11.6K
Warnings: I'm going to rate this one 18+ just to be on the safe side. :) References to sex, Cursing, Angst, Mentions of Death, Blood, Gore, Possessive Soldier Boy, Protective Soldier Boy, Soft Soldier Boy, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.
Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
A/N: I'm so sorry, I know this has been a long time coming. I work hard, but writer's block works harder tbh.
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It had to be herogasm. You think to yourself with an audible groan looking up at the mid-century house from your position in the tree-line while watching the couples on the back porch writhe against one another.
The three hour drive from your apartment to Vermont had been uneventful and quiet. Every once in a while Ben would whisper something to you and you would half answer, but only because your mind was somewhere else or rather on someone else.
It was on Rosemary. She had stopped trying to text you or call you, and the silence was worse. You had no idea what she was going to do or what she was thinking. It was a miracle that she hadn’t shown up to your apartment and kicked down the front door before you left. You knew she was angry about the whole situation. And the sooner you dealt with the twins the sooner you could go see her.
Of course you still had no idea how you were going to bring up the conversation with Ben and you knew that there was no way he would let you just leave with no explanation to go talk to her.
This is why I hate texting. I should have just gone to see her, I shouldn’t have told her that Ben was back in a text, if anything that's a three drink minimum. Hell, she's probably half way through a second bottle of wine by now. Something that you also had considered several times today. Guess sobriety is going out the window. Shocker.
Ben kept asking you what was wrong, sensing your discomfort on the drive and held your hand tightly between the two of you, but you only shook your head whenever he asked. He thought that you were having second thoughts of going after the twins, but that was the one thing you were sure of. They deserved to pay for what they did, all of your team did. Anger rises beneath your skin like a roaring crowd when you think of all the years Ben spent alone in Russia being tortured and experimented on. Years that you could have stopped if only you'd known, years that he could never get back, memories that wouldn't fade in the next decade or two, and memories that you hoped you could replace by making him feel loved, by holding him close, and allowing yourself to forget the memories that still plagued you when you thought about the past.
But you still didn't know how the hell you were going to tell him about Rosemary. Every moment it felt like the words were going to vomit out of your mouth, but you clamped your jaw shut. You didn’t want to talk about Rosemary in front of Butcher and Hughie, didn’t want to tell Ben like that. What you needed to say about Rosemary and Lou didn’t deserve to be shouted at him or said in haste, you wanted to sit Ben down and tell him, give him time to adjust to the idea. Because you had no idea how he was going to react to the news that he was a dad and a grandfather.
Would he pull away again? Would he run? Would he leave me? Those thoughts kept swirling around your mind like a mixtape. You were scared that by telling him about her would make him go cold like he did the moment you told him you loved him. You remembered the distant look that replaced his smile as soon as you had uttered those three little words.
Little but not simple. Three little words that launched ships and started a hundred wars. Three little words with the power to create and the power to destroy. Three words that Ben had said to you more times than you could count since he came back to you, and three words you wished you never stopped hearing him say, the three words you always wanted him to say to you.
If Ben pushed you away now, you knew that you wouldn't survive it this time, knew that there was no going back. Which made you more fearful about Rosemary's reaction to Ben coming back into your life.
You were afraid that Rosemary would give you an ultimatum and make you choose between her and Lou or Ben. You really hoped that it didn’t come to that. You had just gotten Ben back and you didn’t want to have to pick between him and your family.
Because Ben is family too. You knew that deep down in your bones, even after everything that happened, Ben was your family. He was the only person who knew you inside and out, the only man you’d ever loved and the only person who understood you. You couldn’t turn your back on him and you didn’t want to shut him out. Not when you loved him more than life itself.
Your frown deepens as you continue to watch the people on the back porch while your supe hearing picks up the moans and sounds of the couples inside and the subtle thump of music, new pop songs that you didn't understand and didn't try. You were up with the times, but it didn't mean you had to like what was happening or the new music being produced no matter how hard Rosemary tried to get you to listen to it.
You sigh again, trying to drown out the sounds by focusing on the wind moving through the trees and the birds flitting through the branches overhead, but it wasn’t working. The beautiful day was already ruined by the loud and messy sounds from the inside of the house. 
“Always wanted to bring you to one of these Sweetheart.” Ben glances over at you with a cheeky grin, lowering the binoculars from his eyes, but then he notes your frown. “Then again-“ His hand comes around your waist to pull you into him. “That means I would have had to share you with someone else, and I’d much rather have you all to myself.”
 You can feel his smirk against your ear, but it does little ease your anxiety about Rosemary and the looming conversation you were going to have with Ben when this was over.
Hughie had disappeared a few moments ago to scout out the inside and to find the twins, while Butcher was doing a walk of the perimeter, leaving you and Ben to wait for the all clear. A welcome break, because every few minutes Hughie would play with a Geiger counter and the high pitched creak-like squeak was giving you a headache. Not to mention annoying you. You'd only been able to have a few sips of your coffee this morning after Butcher and Hughie burst into you apartment, but at least your anxiety was picking up the slack.
Because of course it was.
The house in front of you looked innocent enough on the outside, big windows light wood,  but now that you were here, you really didn’t want to go inside. Despite wanting to face the twins, you didn’t want to go inside and be reminded of the one reason why you stayed away from Herogasm.
At least today we aren’t attending it as much as crashing it.
“Why do you think I hated going to Herogasm?” You murmur, frown deepening at you continue to stare at the house.  The memories of the past had an ugly way of crashing down on you and despite not wanting to make Ben feel guilty, keeping them to yourself made you feel worse. Plus you figured he knew when you were lying, because Ben was basically a human lie detector when it came to you.
Ben sighs, his warm breath washing over the side of your face as his arm tightens around your waist to secure you to him. “Sweetheart please look at me.” His voice is comforting, filled with emotion, but you still don't look at him.
“What?” You whisper, mind still a million miles away.
His fingertips come under your chin to turn your face to his. Ben’s green eyes lock with yours, soft and apologetic, familiar in the best way and weird given the fact that he was wearing his uniform. You’d never seen him look so sorry when he was dressed up as Soldier Boy.
“I would have killed any man who tried to touch you, especially after the night we shared together. When Vogelbaum danced with you I wanted to rip his arms off.”  His eyes darken.
You remembered the way he watched Vogelbaum and you dance together at the premiere with the cameras flashing in your eyes, but then the image of Countess plastered to his hip arises. The way she ran her hands up his chest, the way he turned his gaze away from you to stare at her.
“Yes, but see I never killed any woman that touched you-“
Double standard much?
“Well-“
“Countess doesn’t count.” You snap.
Ben’s thumb strokes along your jaw, before his expression softens again. “I’m sorry.”
“You’ve apologized-“ You sigh, suddenly guilty. You hadn't meant to snap at him like that, you were on edge because of Rosemary, not because of what Ben did in the past. You were already starting to forgive him for what he did.
“Not for this.” He takes in a deep breath before he pulls you closer to him. “I’m sorry that I made you think I didn’t want you. Because I do. I don't want anyone else, haven't ever wanted anyone else like I want you. I was so stupid. I fucked those other women because I couldn’t handle how I felt about you and I didn’t think that you would ever want me even a fraction of how much I want you-“
“More.” You whisper before you can stop yourself, laying your hand against the front of his suit.
“That is impossible.” Ben smiles faintly.
You toy with the material, plucking it between your fingers. “It’s okay. I understand why you did it. But it was hard to watch you with them.” You try to fight the image of him and Countess again, that is quickly followed by the memories of the many women over the years you’d see Ben with in public and of course the memory of the first and only Herogasm you ever went to, the one you left early because you couldn’t bear to see Ben with anyone else. The same one that you swore you saw Ben watching you just as closely when Noir tried to reach out for you and you walked away.
It’s different now. You think to yourself. Ben said that he’s wanted me this whole time and I believe him. I don’t think he would lie about something like that, not to mention he’s been more open about what he’s feeling.
“I know.” Ben continues to stroke along your jaw. “But I promise it won’t happen ever again.”
“I believe you.” You lock your arms around the back of his neck to hold him closer to you, loving the way his body felt wrapped around you, like he was molded just for you.
“Good.” He leans his forehead against yours for a moment. "Can I kiss you yet?" Ben's words are quiet, barely above a whisper, so low that you know if you didn't have super hearing you'd have missed them.
"You've never been a patient man. In all the years I've known you." You breathe with a smile.
"Maybe I've just never met someone worth waiting for." Ben's nose nudges into the space between you faces, waiting for you to tell him it's okay and you want to. "But you are Sweetheart."
"You've waited forty years."
"You waited longer."
His words make a ball of emotion lodge in the back of your throat, because it meant Ben listened. He heard everything you said to him and he wasn't going to forget, he was going to make this up to you.
It was hard to say no to him, not when he was smiling at you and gazing at you the way you'd always wished him to.
"We both know I'm a bit more patient than you."
"Maybe."
"You know, maybe we should be focusing on something else right now." You smirk, still keeping your lips just as hairsbreadth away from his.
“It's hard to focus on anything else, not when you’re wearing something like that.” Ben purrs, thumbs brushing against you hips in a way that makes your chest tight.
Your smirk deepens “Oh this old thing?”
At the last minute you had chosen to wear the outfit you had picked when you thought you were going to be going to Russia to get Ben, rather than your old supe suit. You didn’t want to be connected with the person you were then, and despite Ben’s want to hold on to Soldier Boy, you were more than happy to let Indigo go.
The outfit was working better than you thought. The tight black tactical pants, combat boots, black leather jacket, and long sleeved leather corseted blouse that was sinched at your waist all perfectly accentuated the curves that your mother tried to hide. When you had walked out of your closet wearing it, Ben’s entire body had gone rigid.
“What?” You’d asked him with an innocent smile standing just a few steps outside your closet, while watching the tension in his shoulders.
“Damn it sweetheart you’re making this hard.” He had responded, clenching his hands into fists at his sides to hold himself back from crossing your bedroom to touch you. It made you smile wider to understand that he was trying to respect the boundaries you made between the two of you.
“What is it that I’m making hard Benjamin?”
“Fuck. Don’t tease me. Nobody likes a tease.”
You’d smirked at him. “Sorry babe you walked right into that one.”
“It’s not fair-“ Ben had growled.
“What’s not fair?”
“You wearing that, biting your fucking lip like that-“
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He’d stalked towards you, eyes dark, causing you to back up until your back hit your pale bedroom wall. His hand had landed next to your head, the other wound around your hip so you could feel the heat of his skin through your clothes.
“You know, two can play at that game Sweetheart.” Ben had murmured, easing his face so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your lips.
“And what game is that?” You’d said it trying to keep your composure, but the dark look in his eyes and the smell of his shampoo was everywhere. Your heart beat had given you away, thudding violently in your chest as if it wanted to break free. It was hard to ignore how much you still wanted him after all these years.
"You know exactly what game." Ben had held your gaze, raising an eyebrow as a confident smirk pulled at his lips. He could hear your heartbeat too, probably could smell how much you wanted him. “But you’re so fucking beautiful I'll let it slide.”
“Huh?” It had been the last thing you thought he was going to say. If anything you’d thought he was going to tease you.
The hand that had been previously on the wall near your head dropped onto your face to gently trace the arch of your brow and the dip of your bottom lip.
“You always have been. I thought I remembered wrong but-" His expression shifted from the seductive smirk into something softer. "Fuck I missed you." Ben had leaned his forehead against yours. "So tease me all you want. I'll wait, because you're worth every second."
Remembering what he said earlier still filled you with an incredible amount of love and made you want to kiss him all the more now. Knowing that he was willing to wait for you to be okay with whatever came next made you fall harder for him. But now you knew that you needed to focus on what you were about to do. And standing here in front of the house, listening to what was going on inside made you sober up, just a little bit…. But not completely.
"Then again I thought those overalls were pretty sexy too." Ben states, staring down at you with a wide smile as the mid-afternoon sun turned his hair into a light brown and found the flecks of gold in his eyes. He looked every bit as handsome as you were accustomed to, so much in fact that it made your heart ache.
"Sure." You roll your eyes. "I think you're the first person in history to say that." Your fingers lightly curl into the strands at the back of his head.
"Maybe. Or maybe you're just the sexiest woman in history."
"Shut up."
Ben's gaze darkens. "Make me, Sweetheart."
Every viable thought except the thought of crashing your lips to his vanishes.
I wonder if they're as soft as I remember. If he still makes that sound when I-
"You two ready?" Butcher interrupts appearing just over Ben's shoulder, but smirking when he sees how close the two of you are. "Or do you love birds need a little alone  time?"
You roll your eyes and let go of Ben's hair, as he loosens his grip on your hips. Stepping back away from him was like having a bucket of cold water drop over you, you missed him and yet he was standing a full sixteen inches away from you.
This is really not good.
"You have the worst fucking timing." Ben moves to pick up his shield, but the playful smirk he'd had a few seconds ago has been replaced with a frown.
You wondered if he was as disappointed as you were.
The wind shifts and you can smell the Temp V in Butcher's veins, hear the steady beat of his heart as it pumps blood through his body, strengthening him, making him feel indestructible. When Butcher and Hughie had injected it at the back of Butcher's car, you couldn't help but be reminded of the day you took V. You had been afraid and when they injected it, you remember the pain, the unspeakable pain that made you scream so loud that Ben heard you from the room he was being kept in, and he broke through the wall to get to you. It was how the scientists learned that Ben had super strength, because he had smashed through solid rock to make sure you were okay.
Butcher shrugs and begins to walk through the trees towards the side door of the house, leaving you and Ben alone.
"You didn't answer my question." He hefts his shield up with a smirk.
He didn't have to explain, you knew he was asking about the kiss. "I'll take a raincheck."
"Hmm." Ben takes a few steps towards the house, before he stops to look back at you. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Huh?"
"In the car, even now. You're kinda quiet." He shrugs.
"I-" You were going to say that you were fine, but you knew that he would clock the lie. "We need to talk about something, but it can wait. This is important too."
Ben's frown deepens, but then he finally sighs. "Alright. Come on you’re lagging behind doll."
"Guess you changed your mind about wanting me here." You snort as you catch up to him.
Ben puts his hand on your wrist, turning you to look at him. "I always want you with me." His hand trails up your arm to finally rest under your chin. Ben smiles, leaning down towards you, but before you can arch up into him, he presses a kiss to your forehead. "I love you." He murmurs into the top of your head.
"I love you too."
And with that, you both follow Butcher into the house hosting the worst event in all of history.
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I should have brought ear plugs. You cringe as you follow behind Ben and Butcher, weaving through the lower levels of the house. Maybe someone will let me borrow their blindfold. Hopefully there are nose plugs somewhere… well there have been other kinds of plugs but those are a bit big for my nose.
You walk down the staircase after Ben and Butcher who pulled ahead a few moments ago and as you do the sharp sour smell of a chemical wafts in your face, different than the other odors in the house.
What is that?
You round the corner and see Ben up ahead, shrouded in smoke, staring down an attractive muscular black man who for some reason has decided to raise his fists to challenge Ben. Your eyes trace the man's face, recognition pulling at your heart. You knew who he was. The first time you'd seen him he'd only been a boy, made eye contact with you at a funeral you couldn't help but go to, after Ben made a mistake. You'd offered the boy an encouraging smile and left the boy's family an envelope of cash in their mailbox because you couldn't think of anything else to do for them. You knew it couldn't replace who they lost, but you didn't know what else to do. Ben had been upset with himself after, he always was when he lost control. He showed up on your doorstep like he always did, drunk, high, smelling like stale perfume, and fell asleep in your bed after you reassured him the same way you always did.
Now that little boy was grown up and standing in front of you. You see recognition flash in his eyes as he sees you. Of course it does. You didn't look any different and you hadn't worn your supe suit when you went to the funeral.
"Not him." Butcher says to Ben, but Ben doesn't look away from the man.
"Ben." You whisper, reaching out to touch his arm gently.
Ben's eyes flick to yours. The look in Ben's eyes is familiar, predatory, unwilling to back down from a fight. Soldier Boy. You'd seen it countless times before, talked him out of killing people in the past. You hated how quickly you had to slip into your old job, the one that made you feel like a babysitter, but you shake it off.
"He doesn't know what he's doing. Come on. The Twins are upstairs, I can hear them arguing." It was true, you could, but you didn't want this to turn ugly so quickly. Not when the real reason why you were here were currently arguing about toilet cameras. 
His jaw tightens, eyes sliding to the man standing at the other end of the room, before he nods once and motions for you to go ahead of him.
As you continue to move through the house, you fight the shudder that threatens to travel down your spine when you think of how Ben looked moments ago. It was the first time you had seen Soldier Boy since Ben showed up again, and it was the same way you remembered it. You just hoped deep down that Ben really did want to change and that he was adopting the façade of Soldier Boy to get through what came next. You knew that you were going to have to adopt one as well.
"Here." You stop just before the two of you round the corner where the Twins were in the other room. "Let me go first. They might not try to run if I go in before you."
Ben frowns. "I don't want you to-"
"I know, but it'll be better this way."
"Fine."
You walk around the wall and towards the circular room where the Twins are fighting, ignoring the couples on the outskirts that are grinding against one another.
Like Countess, the Twins didn't look good, both were considerably older, rounder, grayer, and more wrinkly than the last time you'd seen them, but they were still the same. Still arguing and still just as annoying as they had been forty years ago.
"I never want to see you again!" Tommy spits at his sister, adjusting the golden robe slung over his shoulders that flaps around him like a cape.
"Oh sure!" Tessa sniffs while puffing on a joint. "Our Westfield mall appearance is next week and nobody is going to come see you without me!"
That must suck to have your powers depend on someone else.
"Wow, mall appearances? Aren't we all getting a bit old for that?" You flash a winning smile as you step down into the room, locking eyes with Tessa.
Both of the twins visibly pale, their hearts speeding up to work overtime, as the stench of adrenaline begins to waft through the air between you. It's almost comical how identical their reactions are to Countess' at seeing you for the first time in forty years. Then again you hoped that you looked better than they did.
Why didn't I try to find out more after Ben "died?" If our entire team had this reaction to seeing me then I would have known the truth and Ben wouldn't have been in a fucking Russian Lab all these years!
Their plan to ensure you not being in Nicaragua had paid off, because not only were you not there, you didn't want anything to do with any of them. And you wished that you had confronted them all those years ago. You knew that you'd live with that guilt for a long time, but now you allowed your anger at what they all did to Ben, overpower it.
"Y/n-" Tessa stutters.
It was weird to see her at a loss for words. You and all of Payback had listened to her nag Tommy since the moment they joined the team. Judging by what you had walked into, you figured that she hadn't changed at all.
"Hey long time no see!" Tommy fakes enthusiasm while licking his lips nervously, eyes darting to the open doors behind you. You could practically see the escape plan forming in his mind.
"You know, when I found out you guys were living in Vermont I was surprised. I would have thought that you moved down South. They’re probably more accepting of your relationship.” You make air quotes around the word relationship, before shifting your smile into an worried frown. “Oh sorry, are the two of you still pretending that you’re not fucking?”
Tessa’s gaze turns stone cold. “What the fuck do you want?”
“I was in the neighborhood, thought I’d check in.” You look around the room. “You guys have a nice house. Must have budgeted better than Countess did. Her tailer, now that was a shit hole. Must not have done as many mall appearances.”
Tommy’s heart skips a beat at the mention of Countess’s name. “Look y/n-“
“Please. We didn’t have anything against you. We didn’t come after you. Even after all these years we left you alone.” Fear seeps into Tessa’s voice with her plea, eyes wide with worry.
They had reason to be worried, you’d all but admitted to killing Countess.
“Oh sweetie.” You with false sweetness in your tone. “It’s cute that you think you can beg for mercy. That you're deserving of it.” The room begins to shake with the force of your anger as your eyes shift to bright purple. Cracks like thin spiderwebs stretch through the wide windows behind them and through the thick drywall as you lose control, the composure you always held on to drowning in the flood of emotion you feel when you look at the two of them. “Ben told me exactly what happened that day-“
“He lied to you!” Tommy exclaims. “He went crazy! You know how he gets, how he loses control!”
“He lost control and we had to protect ourselves y/n-“ Tessa adds, another lie.
Ben steps into the room beside you, his eyes are focused on the Twins, and if you thought they looked afraid when you showed up, they look near dead when Ben appears.
"You were saying?" You raise an eyebrow.
"Ben! Hey Buddy!." Tommy forces another smile but pales when he realizes Ben just heard him and Tessa try to lie to you. "How are you? Long time. We were just talking to y/n about-“
Ben's eyes narrow, stopping whatever Tommy was going to say about you.
"Nicaragua wasn't our fault!" Tommy says to recover. "Neither was the premiere." His eyes dart to yours, cowering under the purple light that pulses from your irises.
Wow. Just. Wow.
"We swear." Tessa adds.
"Why should we believe you?" You spit.
"Please-"
"Then whose fault was it?" Ben's frown deepens, hand tightening on the shield.
None of the other couples have stopped what they are doing, too enthralled in one another to notice what was going to unfold between the four of you.
"It was Noir!" Tommy shouts desperately, his eyes flitting from Ben to you as if trying to see which one of you will believe him. "He gave Ben to the Russians."
It's almost pathetic watching his mad scramble to protect himself. Apart of you hates that you don't feel guilty for any of this, at least with Countess at the beginning you felt some guilt for hurting her, but with them there was nothing. Not even the prick of remorse, there was only anger.
Ben chuckles under his breath. "We all know that Noir didn't even take a shit without Vought's say so."
"Not to mention his head was so far up Stan's ass it's a wonder that he could breathe." You narrow your eyes at the two of them waiting for them to make a move. They might be cowards, but if you knew the Twins well enough, you knew that they weren't above throwing a bolt of lighting in your direction. And you knew for a fact that electrocution wasn't fun.
"It's the truth!" Tessa shouts above the moans and wet squelch of the people around you. “Please y/n we have children.”
“You're really the worst liar hon. Always have been." You snap, listening to her heartbeat jolt in her chest as she attempts to save herself.
"Please talk Ben out of this, just like you did for Noir-“ Tommy's plea falls on deaf ears, but you knew what he was talking about. The day that you saved Noir's life because he started a fight with Ben over a stupid role in a movie. But this was different, no part of you wanted to save them from this, to save them from what they deserved.
“Noir will get what’s coming to him.” You don't recognize your own voice. "You brought this on yourselves."
But then something shifts in the air, call it a feeling, or an energy current, but something feels wrong.
The music coming from the radio has changed to a Russian pop song, why it's playing you have no idea, all you know is that it does something to Ben.
The sound of his shield hitting the ground rings in your ears and you turn to look at him. His entire body is tensed beneath his suit, sweat dotting along his hairline, red beginning to creep into his cheeks. His eyes are squeezed shut and he shakes his head as if he's trying to clear it.
"Ben? Are you okay?" Your hold on the room vanishes, eyes fading back to their normal color as your worry turns to Ben.
His fists are clenched tightly together as he brings them up to the sides of his head, chest beginning to glow with his new power, the one you'd never seen before, the one that Ben said practically vaporized whatever was in it's path.
Shit.
"Ben. Stay with me, listen to my voice." You touch the sides of his face, begging him to listen to your plea. As much as you wanted the Twins to pay, Ben wasn't just losing control of his powers, this was different. It was almost like he was being dragged somewhere else, somewhere you couldn't follow.
"Everything's okay. I'm here, I'm right here." You soothe, but he continues to glow brighter and brighter and you're directly in the line of fire.
Shit.
Ben's eyes flash open, no longer bright green but an orange-gold that makes fear snag in your ribs like a fishing hook. His hand makes contact with your chest shoving you to the side, out of the way of the beam, but unfortunately through the solid rock wall.
You don't really know what happens next. The world goes black for a few minutes, not like when you die, but just black as everything burns around you when Ben explodes. You're not sure how long you're under, could be minutes, could be hours, all you know is that when you wake up everything hurts.
It's how you know that you didn't officially die. Whenever you woke up after death, it was different, you felt powerful, reborn, but right now you felt like a train ran over you. A headache throbs at your temples as you begin to come to, blinking your eyes against the darkness that doesn't go away. Your ears are ringing, filled with the screams of those who survived and the smell of burned flesh and blood surrounds you like a cloud.
A mountain of rubble and roofing covers you, leaving you in the darkness to get your bearings, but nothing feels broken.
At least the brick fireplace broke my fall. You think to yourself with a groan as you begin to push off the planks of wood and pieces of the roof that cover your body, so you can sit up. As soon as you do, your head spins and you fight the unpleasant urge to throw up.
Great. Might have a concussion.
You might be as strong as Ben, but your ability to die meant that you were just a little bit less equipped to handle a hit like that.
Ben. Worry and fear war in your heart as you look around the broken room that lays in tatters around you.
The house isn’t recognizable anymore. Singed carpet floats in tufts with ash around your face like a swarm of flies while fires burn in clumps all over the ruined room. Chunks of drywall and planks of blackened wood litter the floor and the back half of the house is gone, burned to a crisp in the blast from Ben.
What the fuck did they put in his chest? Ben had tried to describe it to you, tried to explain it, but standing here in the rubble you understood just how bad it was. The ruins in Mid-town you had seen the coverage of on the news, but it was a completely different thing to experience it in person.
People are going to think that he did this on purpose. That he's a bad person, that he's some kind of terrorist. The thought is immediately followed by the fear that Vought and the government would come to take him away. Your jaw tightens. I'd like to see them try.
The bodies of Tommy and Tessa are burned beyond recognition, still holding hands, but now are just blacked lumps of flesh and bone that lay where they tried to make their final stand. But you feel no remorse.
It’s what we came here to do, to make them pay. You bite the inside of your cheek listening to the screams of those who survived. I just didn't think that so many others would get hurt.
You continue to look around the room, worry rising in your chest as you think of Ben and remember the look on his face. He had been scared of what was about to happen even if he didn’t want to admit it. He lost control. In the past when he lost control the worst thing he could do was rip someone in half or smash their face into a pulp, but now if Ben ever lost control he'd level a building.
I see a lot of yoga in his future. Or maybe anger management classes.
Although the thought makes you smile, as soon as you see Ben everything else fades from your mind. Ben is on his knees in the center of the room, head slumped forward on his chest, hands laying limply by his sides, as he takes in shaky breaths. You could hear the frantic pound of his heart, beating hard against his rib cage as if begging to be released. Seeing him like that almost sends you into overdrive. You’d never seen him look so defeated, so small, so tired, so… lost.
“Ben?” You fall to your knees next to him, reaching out to touch his face, to bring his attention to you.
His body tenses as you do so, eyes narrowing when he meets yours like he doesn’t know you. His eyes miles away.
But where?
“Hey, it’s me.” You say gently, cupping his face with your hands to rub your thumbs across his cheeks while fear grips your heart as you try to bring him back to you. “It’s me, I’m here. It’s okay.”
Ben inhales sharply as if suddenly remembering, the look in his eyes clearing for a moment, rising through the fog. "Y/n?" He whispers.
"Yeah. I'm here." You repeat, smiling at him even though the urge to cry builds in the back of your throat. It broke your heart to see him like this. You push his hair back from his face, brushing the ash from the mahogany strands.
 “Are you okay? Did I-“ Worry etches itself across his handsome face.
“I’m fine. Shhh.” You soothe, pulling him against you so your can rub his back softly and lock him in your embrace. But the truth was you were afraid. You didn’t understand what happened and couldn’t explain the look in his eyes when he went under, when he started to lose himself in his newfound powers. Ben crumbles into you, leaning his head against your shoulder as if needing it to strengthen him.
“It’s okay. Everything’s okay.” You weren’t sure the effects the blast had on him, just that he seemed unsure as to how the hell he did it.
 Where did he go in those moments?
“The twins?” Ben mumbles.
“They’re dead.” You could hear the approaching ambulances and police cars, hear the anxious chatter of the survivors outside.
We’ve got to get out of here.
“Come on. Let’s go.” You say softly rising to your feet and helping him up. Ben stumbles a step, shaking his head like he can’t catch his bearings and the worry comes roaring back. You catch him and tilt his body so he can lean on you. “Ben are you okay?” Your fingers dance against the sides of his face trying to bring his focus back to you, because you were afraid he might lose himself to whatever the hell happened before.
“I will be in a minute.” Ben takes in a shaky breath, leaning on your shoulder. "I don't know what happened."
"It's okay." His shield rises telekinetically from the rubble and into your outstretched hand that glows a brilliant purple in the dusty light. Smoke billows up from the room around you obscuring the sunlight that filters through the ruined front of the house, but you can still see the front drive already becoming swarmed with people and news crews.
Because that's exactly what Rosemary needs to see, me and Ben on the 5'oclock news. Fuck.
"Come on." You lead him back the way you can, toting his shield in your free hand, down the stairs.
When you spot Butcher, Ben straightens finally catching his bearings and takes the shield from you. Butcher looks from Ben to you, eyebrows raised.
"Sorted?"
"Yeah." Ben frowns.
You could tell that he was still a little shaky, but you knew he wasn't going to admit that to anyone, especially not to Butcher. Your gaze falls on the man from before laying on the ground, the man that Butcher had told Ben to leave.
Why did he want Ben to spare his life if Butcher was only going to beat him down?
But just as you take a step towards the man to check him for injuries, a long shadow falls on the floor at your feet.
Your eyes jolt upwards and focus on Homelander. The smell of hairspray, hair dye, and cheap cologne waft through the air at Homelander's appearance.  He's shorter than you expected him to be, not overtly muscular, but he didn't need to be. Supes with superstrength didn't need to look like body builders, and you suspected that the only reason why Homelander even had any kind of muscle was for his image as America's Hero. Then again, you never complained about Ben's muscular physique.
I don’t think anybody should complain about that and- Nope. Nope. Not thinking about that right now.
But as you stare at him there's something wrong, something that you can't place, something that tugs at the back of your mind when you look at him, almost as if you've forgotten something important.
Seeing him in person is surreal. You'd only ever seen him on the news or on billboards or on those stupid energy drinks that were sold at the bodega on the corner where you get coffee filters sometimes, but the look in his eyes is the same. It's cold, unfeeling, and reminds you of those ridiculous shark documentaries that Rosemary is obsessed with. The only time she could watch shark week was after Lou went to bed. She said that watching it made her feel better about her job and you didn't complain.
Homelander looks around the room forcing a smile, a predatory glare in his eyes.
"William Butcher and Soldier Boy. Of course you are behind this. It really is all about me." Homelander's smile widens.
Narcissistic much? This guy's like a walking red flag.
He takes a step closer to the three of you, and Ben steps in front of you to shield you from Homelander's view. Homelander clocks the movement, but then tsks his finger at Butcher.
"William we made a deal to fight to the death, you and me." Homelander's eyes begin to glow. "You cheated, deals off."
The red flash of the laser-vision illuminates Ben's face in sharp contrast as the beam hits Butcher full in the chest propelling him back into the wall. His body falls to the ground and lies still.
Well. That's not good.
Honestly you didn't like Butcher all that much, but you couldn't help but feel a little bit bad.
You glance up from Butcher's body to gaze at Homelander again. Fighting him hadn't been on the agenda today, but it was starting to look that way. You knew what his powers were, knew that Vought probably told him his entire life that he was a god and that no one could compare to him. And you knew that the man standing next to you hadn't changed enough to walk away from the fight, no matter how bad his odds were.
And deep down you knew that you weren't going to let Ben take that beating, which of course meant that you were going to fight Homelander. Not that you were afraid of him. One look at him might have sent everyone else heading for the hills, but he didn't intimidate you.
"I watched all your movies, hundreds of times. You were the only one that was nearly as strong as me." The look on Homelander's face is one of respect almost wonder.
And you can imagine a smaller version of Homelander being fed all the same propaganda that Ben and you were fed all those years ago, imagine Homelander growing up hearing that he was stronger, greater, faster than Soldier Boy, and imagine Vogelbaum working hard to make sure to mold Homelander into the hero that America wanted. Not to mention all the shit he probably heard when he was with Stormfront. You were very happy that you didn't have to see her again, though now you had a fun story to tell Ben about one of his exes.
“Buddy you’re wearing a cape, do you think you look strong?” Ben frowns at Homelander.
“It is pretty stupid.” You agree examining Homelander’s supe suit. “Honestly I thought you had it bad with that dorky looking helmet-“ You glance at Ben out of the corner of your eye.
“Really? You’re gonna do this now?” Ben glowers turning his attention to you.
“I’m just being honest it was pretty bad and I’m glad you decided not to wear it today. But his cape is definitely worse.”
“Do you want me to bring up that ridiculous hood you had?”
“You can, but I won’t believe you, because that hood was fabulous and I looked fantastic in it.”
Homelander clears his throat to catch your attention. “Um hello?”
“Hi.” You force a smile. “Oh sorry did we interrupt your little monologue?”
Homelander's gaze turns icy as you continue. “Because we can take this from the top. What was the line again? Something about power or watching his films? I was only half listening. Did you want me to record it for you so you can post it on your socials?”
“What the f-“ Homelander begins to say, but you interrupt him.
“I mean. That is why you practiced it in the mirror for so long right? And why you did your hair and makeup?" You scrunch up your nose. "I'd skip that last mist of hairspray if I were you. You want it to look smooth, not look like you stuck your finger in an electrical socket.”
You could tell that Ben was trying to maintain his composure, but his mouth was twitching in a smile. “Oh wait does your suit have a body cam? I guess that makes things easier, because it probably doesn't have pockets. Not to mention if you dropped your phone while you were flying around-"
"Who the fuck are you?" Homelander spits interrupting you.
"No one important."
“Is he really what passes for a hero these days?” Ben cocks an eyebrow. “He’s just a cheap fucking knock off of me.”
“No.” Homelander snarls, eyes beginning to glow bright red. “I’m the upgrade.”
The laser cuts through the air in slow motion, but you’re already moving.
"Ben!" His name rips from your throat as you lunge forward and shove him as hard as you can out of the way of the beam. You feel the laser tear through your body, the force throwing you backward through one of the wood paneled walls and then the darkness swallows you whole.
If someone were to ask you what it was like to die, you wouldn’t know how to answer. To exist in those thirteen seconds sometimes feels like a dream, like you're floating, but it's always silent. And the silence scares you. How quickly it comes to drag you under and how it seems to replace everything you know or remember about the real world until you come back to life. You understood why Ben didn't like being alone, because you didn't either. It reminded you too much of those moments you were gone, wishing for it to stop. There was never a bright light, there was only the darkness and the silence that fell when your heart stopped beating.
When you take your first breath in thirteen seconds it's full of dust and ash, swirling into your mouth as you inhale sharply to jumpstart your lungs. But at the same time everything is different. The colors in the room are brighter, the sounds more acute, the smells just a fraction stronger, and you feel different. Power floods through your limbs, swirling through flesh and bone, pouring through your veins, electrifying through each nerve ending and setting you on fire, more than any other power ever has. You'd never felt power like this before. Even with Countess and the others that had killed you, no other power you'd ever gotten had felt this strong.
You stand up from the rubble you landed in, covered in a layer of dust and blood. The hole in your new outfit where the laser struck is just under your left breast, the mark left behind already a pink scar. And you knew that Ben would probably kill you for it later, for taking the laser for him, but you didn't care.
Homelander is floating in the center of the room, holding Ben by the throat, smiling cruelly at him.
"Hey asshole." You snarl, spitting out a glob of blood onto the ruined carpet. "We're not done."
Homelander turns his head towards you amused, while Ben grabs at the front of his suit, trying to get his attention, but Homelander is focused on you.
"So that's it? That's your big trick? Laser vision? Forgive me for not cowering in fear." Your hands clench into fists at your sides.
He eyes you for a moment. "You're Indigo aren't you?"
"I used to be. Now I'm just disappointed. I expected more from Vought's big hero, but now I see that you're just another asshole who thinks he's a god." Your eyes drift to Ben for a moment, worry clawing at your heart when you meet his gaze. "So drop him. Before I drop you."
"You’re very confident for someone who was dead a few seconds ago. I don't really see how that ability is going to help you-"
"Before I didn’t want to kill you."
"And you think you can?" He laughs.
"No." You smirk. "I know I can."
"Who do you think you’re talking to?"
"I’m not talking to much." Your eyes narrow. "But I'll be nice, and I'll give you a chance to leave. To tuck your tail between your fucking legs and fly away. We didn't come here for you and you and I don't have to do this."
"And if I don't leave?"
"Then I'll kill you."
"I'd like to see you try." Homelander throws Ben as hard as he can through the brick fireplace, causing rock and mortar to rain down on top of him, but Homelander's eyes don't leave yours. “Well why don’t you give me your best sho-“
He doesn’t have time to finish his sentence, your body ploughs into his tackling him through the solid outer wall and onto the back lawn.
Truthfully you hadn’t meant to go through the wall, you’d only meant to pin him to it, but flying was proving just a little more difficult than you expected. Your hand closes on Homelander’s wrist bringing him down against the ground so hard that the earth quakes, before you throw him as far away from you as you can.
His body spins awkwardly in the air, before he ploughs into one of the thick oak trees head on, at the edge of the backyard. The loud snap of the tree compensating for Homelander’s body fills the air.
He stumbles to his feet, eyes narrowed in pure hatred, lip curled back in a snarl, and his blonde hair flopping forward into his face.
“You chose wrong.” You spit, rolling your shoulders, preparing for what came next.
Homelander lets out a roar and flies towards you, arms outstretched for you, but you’re ready for him.
You catch his fist before it lands against your face and tighten your other hand around his throat. Your bodies are floating two feet off the ground, but it doesn’t faze you.
When Homelander’s gaze meets yours you see just a flicker of fear, a spark, quickly masked by his shock. He struggles to pull away to push you away with his free hand, but all you do is tighten your grip.
 "You've never felt real pain before have you?" You force your face into a sympathetic frown, before your eyes harden. "Allow me to enlighten you."  You throw him to the ground again, watching his body spin and screech against the grass and dirt.
 Given the screams and smell of blood in the air, any witnesses from the massacre inside were at the front of the house waiting for the police, leaving you and Homelander on the backside of the house alone.
Worry for Ben rose in your chest like the peak of a wave, you hadn't seen him since Homelander threw him through the fireplace, but you funnel that worry into all encompassing rage.
"They told you that you were a god right? That you were the most powerful supe that ever lived. They were wrong. There's only one supe more powerful than you, and you just fucking pissed her off." You shout beginning to float towards him.
Homelander growls rising to his feet, eyes glowing bright red as he fires a laser at you, but you’re ready.
Your own beam catches his mid air between you, the high pitched sizzle and smell of ozone floats across your face, but you don't back down. If anything, it just makes you more angry.
And then something slams into you from the side, breaking the connection between your beam and Homelander's.
"What-" You shout, looking up at the body above yours, preparing to blast them off, but you realize it's Ben. "Ben what-"
"Stay here." He growls, eyes black. Ben looks pissed, whether it’s because you pushed Ben out of the way before or if it’s because he’s annoyed that Homelander punched him you’re not sure.
"What?" You look beyond him, to see Hughie and Butcher tackle Homelander to the ground.
They're going to try to turn him human.
"I can hold him down-" You say. “Let me help.”
"No." Ben snarls as he stalks towards Homelander, his chest beginning to glow.
“Ben-“
“Stay the fuck there.” Ben shouts still looking at Homelander.
Your eyes flit to the leader of the Seven. Watching him struggle against Hughie and Butcher, who yell at one another, but you don’t hear them. You wait for the remorse to crash over you, the guilt, but it never comes.
I gave him a choice. He could have run. He didn’t. He chose this.
And just when you think it’s all over, Homelander breaks away from them, surging up into the air to freedom. You feel your feet leave the ground to follow him, someone’s hand tightens on your ankle and drags you back down to earth.
“No.” Ben’s voice is more of a growl than anything else.
He’s angry, that much you can tell from the look on his face and from the way his eyes have hardened into two solid chunks of emerald as he locks eyes with you.
But why? Angry because Homelander got away or angry because I pushed him out of the way?
“Ben I can get him. Let me go.” You kick your ankle but Ben holds on.
“No.” Ben snarls. “You’re not about to go after that sick fuck by yourself.”
“Ben-“
“No. If I have to chain you to the ground I will.” Ben pulls you down further and releases your ankle to  fasten his hand around you waist to hold you tighter against the ground. “You’re not going after him.”
“Fine.” You snap pulling yourself from his grasp, your own temper flaring.
You hated when Ben did that, when he acted like you weren’t just as capable as him of doing this. It reminded you of your childhood, when you were treated like you were made of glass, a pretty doll that was made to be looked at but never touched.
And you knew it came from Ben’s want to protect you, knew that it came from his fear of losing you, but that didn’t make it any less annoying.
You didn’t pout when Ben went out to face someone, didn’t try to act like he couldn’t do it.
“I know that maybe I’m a little behind but… WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?” Hughie shouts. “You have laser vision and you can fly and you can move things with your mind!?” He looks frantically from you to Ben.
You don’t answer, your eyes are still on Ben who looks ready to throw Butcher’s car into space. You could practically see the waves of anger rolling off of him like a comic strip.
“You didn’t before, did you?” Butcher’s eyes trace your body as things begin to click into place. “You didn’t before he killed you.”
“Hold on.” Hughie holds up his hand. “Are you telling me that you die and you come back to life WITH THE POWERS OF THE SUPE THAT KILLED YOU?”
“It wasn’t in the files.” Butcher’s eyes still haven’t left you. “Vought didn’t know did they?”
You don’t like the way he’s looking at you, don’t like the glimmer in his eyes as if you’d just solved all his problems. It was the exact look that was in the eyes of the scientists the day you took the serum for the first time. To them that’s all Ben and you were, lab rats, people who were stupid enough to listen to the wild ideas of glory and a better world they spouted.
“We should go.” You murmur, listening to the sounds of the ambulances and the police coming up the driveway. “It’s about to be a circus here and I'd rather not make my big social media debut covered in rubble and blood."
Ben’s mouth is clamped together, green eyes blazing at your mention of blood. You knew that he was focused on the bloody hole left behind in the corset where Homelander's laser had ripped through your body.
Another scar, another fun story to tell my daughter when I see her… great.
*****************************************
The car ride to Legend’s is dead silent. Ben doesn’t look at you, doesn’t try to hold your hand, and doesn’t try to touch you in any way. Instead his hands are curled into fists, sitting on the tops of his thighs while his anger heats the inside of the car like a furnace. You knew it was only a matter until he exploded, but now you had bigger things on your mind.
You had just exposed yourself to Homelander, showed your face to him, not to mention you admitted to being Indigo. It would be easy for him to find your real name in the Vought archives find your file and the same name that linked you to Rosemary. She’d gone back to her maiden name when her husband died, which meant the two of you had the same last name and it wouldn’t be difficult for Homelander to find her.
Which meant you needed to get to her first.
You had tried to text her, tried to tell her to have a bag ready and that you were going to pick her up, but she was refusing to do so and you didn’t exactly want to text “Homelander is a fucking psychopath and he’s going to come after you” to her phone. Plus you couldn’t exactly call her, not in this cramped car.
Legend is waiting on the front porch of his country home when Butcher pulls his car into the end of the long driveway, somewhere that you’d been to many times in the past. He's smoking a joint and scrolling through his phone, wearing the same outfit you had seen him in a few days ago.
"Kitten!" He smiles wide at you when he sees you and pulls you into a hug. “I was worried when I heard about that mess with Countess. You never called.” Legend frowns at you, blowing out a lungful of smoke. "Guess you guys had a talk."
"Something like that." You frown. "It got complicated really fast."
“I told you so.” His eyes shift to where Ben is glowering a foot behind you. "I see he found you. I didn't tell him-"
"I know you didn't. Thank you for keeping your promise." You smile tightly, squeezing Legend's hand. He really was a good friend. One of the oldest ones you had besides Ben.
"Figured if I did, you'd keep him from ripping my head off."
“Haven’t decided if I’m not going to yet.” Ben snarls and Legend's eyes widen in fear.
But you knew that he was just redirecting his anger. Ben was angry because you put yourself in harms way to protect him and the sooner you had it out, the sooner you could go get Rosemary and Lou.
"Ben we both know that you're not mad at Legend, you're mad at me. So you might as well spit it out, because we've got bigger problems than your hissy fit-" You begin to say. You were sick of him pouting, refusing to look at you, refusing to touch you.
"What the FUCK were you thinking?!" Ben roars towering over you, eyes flashing. "Getting between me and him like that!"
Legend backs away, afraid that he's going to get caught in the cross-fire.
"Calm down." You sigh, gritting your teeth together. You were trying your best not to lose it either, because the last thing this situation needed was you losing control.
"DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN." Ben's hands are clenched tightly into fists, his suit beginning to glow bright.
"You're going to have to calm down or you're going to blast me to kingdom come!" You snap back.
Ben grits his teeth together and closes his eyes tightly while his chest begins to fade back to normal and when it does, he opens his eyes to glare at you. "Why did you do that? I had him handled-"
"You didn't."
"Yes I did. You didn't give me a chance to-"
"No what I did was I didn't give that psychopath a chance to punch a hole through your chest with his fucking laser vision." You poke him in the chest. "Of the two of us, I have a greater chance of surviving that!”
By then Butcher and Hughie had moved to give the two of you a wide berth, standing where Legend was watching the two of you looking bored. They were probably hoping that you didn’t cut one of them in half with your new powers.
"Are they always like this?" You hear Butcher ask Legend from where they stand a safe distance away.
"Pretty much." Legend answers, blowing out a puff of the fowl smelling smoke.
"Do you ever get used to it?" Hughie mutters.
"Nope."
“Is there an off button?” Butcher sighs.
“Nope.” Legend puffs his joint.
"You don't know that!" Ben spits back at you. "I could have!"
"I wasn't willing to take that chance damnit!"
How can I make him understand this? How can he finally understand what it would be like for me to lose him all over again, just when I got him back?
"Do you really think that I'm willing to play Russian Roulette with your life?" Ben snarls, grabbing you by the shoulders so tightly you're sure they'll be bruises but all you can do is look into his quickly darkening eyes. "Do you have any idea what it did to me to see you die AGAIN? To see him TOUCH YOU? To know that he HURT you?"
"We've already had this conversation Ben-"
"And we're going to fucking have it again!" His grip tightens. "I told you to stay behind me!"
The last time he'd touched you like this was the night of the premiere, when he told you that he didn't care about you, that he could never love you. The memory of that night lodges itself in the back of your throat, but you keep it down.
"And I told you that I wasn't going to do that!"
"Damn it y/n you can't-"
You pull yourself away from him. "No Ben. You can't tell me what to do. You don't get to control me. People have tried to control me all my damn life and when I first came with you I thought I was giving that up. But no, I just moved on and Vought took over. When I decided to live my own life, to stop being a supe, I was free! Finally! After forty years of bullshit I was finally free!"
Ben’s jaw is so tightly locked together you think you hear the grinding of his teeth. “So what are you saying? Are you saying that when you’re with me you feel trapped? Like I’m holding you fucking hostage?!”
“No.” You exhale heavily. "I understand that you love me. I understand that you want to protect me. But you need to understand that I love you too. That just as you're willing to lay down your life for me, I am willing to lay down my life for you. And if you want this to work between us, you need to understand that you don't control me. You're not my dad or my owner, you're the man I love. And until you realize that I am just as capable of protecting you as you are protecting me-"
"I know that." Ben seethes.
"What?"
"Do you really think that I don't see how strong you are?” You watch something flash in his eyes that isn't anger, the vulnerable look is back for a fleeting moment and it rocks you to your core. "I don’t want to control you! I’m not trying to. Have you thought that maybe after all this time I just wanted you to need me like I need you?"
His confession makes your heart stop. Does he really think that I don’t need him? That after all these years there’s no one else that I’ve needed more in my entire life?
“Ben.” You sigh while stretching out your hand to lay against his arm, but he flinches away. “ I do need you. You have no idea how much I need you, no idea what it did to me when I lost you even after everything that happened. I just don’t want you to treat me like I’m made of glass.”
“I don’t treat you like you’re-“ He begins to say.
“Yes. You do. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to protect me, but you have to understand that I want to protect you too.”
He huffs out a breath, shoulders tensed, arms crossed over his muscular chest. “I do understand that. I just hate it when you do that, that you push me out of the way. I hate when you get hurt.”
“And I hate when you get hurt." You bite the inside of your cheek. "You say that you were angry that Homelander hurt me, but did you stop to consider what it did to me to see him try to hurt you? Do you know what it did to me to see him touch you?”
Ben stands there for a minute glaring down at you, before his gaze begins to soften. “No.” He grumbles.
“Exactly.”
You both stand there for a minute eyeing one another, daring the other to break the silence.
This is ridiculous.
Finally Ben, sighs out a breath and jerks you forward against his chest. The hug would be bone crushing for anyone else, but not to you.
“You’re so fucking annoying.” He mutters into the top of your head, while his body curves around yours.
“I love you too asshole.” You huff, hugging him back just as tight.
“See they always work it out.” Legend shrugs at Butcher. “Takes them a while to get there. They made my job so much harder in the 70’s. Though I will say it’s a relief that they’re finally admitting they love each other. Way too much sexual tension before, gave me anxiety.”
Ben pulls back to look at your face with another loud sigh. He still looks a little angry, but not angry enough to start shouting again. His thumb strokes against your cheek. “Are you okay?”
You nod once leaning into his touch. “Are you?” You brush back some of his dark hair out of his face, looking for bruises but you don’t see any.
“Yeah.” He nods.
“If the two of you are done, we have bigger things to worry about-“ Butcher begins to say.
“We are and we do.” You interrupt looking away from Ben to stare at Butcher. “I need to borrow your car.”
“Why?”
“I need to go back to the city.”
“What?” Ben sputters releasing you from his grasp.
“And I think it would be better if I went alone-“ You continue slowly.
Honestly you did think that it would be better if you went alone, but you didn’t want to. You wanted Ben to come with you, the problem was Rosemary.
“Like hell I’m letting you go alone with that son of a  bitch flying around!” Ben shouts, temper flaring again.
“Which is why I have to go.” You try to say it diplomatically, try to have him understand without having to explain it. But there’s really no way around it, around any of this.
“No.”
“Ben please c-"
“Don’t tell me to calm down again! I’m not being crazy. You’re not going after him!” His eyes blaze a brilliant green, as he crosses his hands over his chest.
“Ben-“
“Why can’t you listen to me for once?”
“BEN!” You shout, grabbing his face and holding his cheeks between your palms to catch his attention.
“What?” Ben’s eyes lock with yours.
“I’m not going to the city to go after Homelander.”
He pauses confused. “Then why are you-“
And you just can’t take it anymore. You can’t hold it in any longer, can’t think of a way to tell him without just ripping the bandaid off. Your eyes meet his, apologetic, determined, and just a little bit fearful.
“I’m going back into the city to get our daughter.”
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A/N: I know I know, it's been a while and honestly I didn't mean to get hit by writer's block this bad 😂😭
But it kinda works out, because what better way to celebrate Father's Day than to tell Soldier Boy that he's a dad?
As always thank you so much for reading! There are big things coming! And thank so much for the love and support! If you'd like to be added to the taglist please let me know :)
Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303
@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs
@bughill126 @simplyfixated @sleepjam @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts
@onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress
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@thesilmarillionblog @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @libby99hb @peachhiz @tinydancer40
492 notes · View notes
rsventhesecondd · 27 days ago
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Broken promises,
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╰ • → Featuring . Itoshi Rin, and Itoshi Sae ! ╯
sypnosis . whereas— you're blood related with two famous soccer players world wide. In other words, siblings.
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warnings . angst, use of vulgar words, slight spoilers
note . some parts may seem rushed or ooc in other peoples opinion. english isn't my first language, so please bare with oncoming vocabulary or grammatic mistakes.
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You sat down on your chair, opening an old cardboard box filled with medals and old trophies.
Nothing really seemed out of the ordinary, just soccer trophies, and.. an old photo book.
You flipped through the pages of it, remembering those fond moments of you and your siblings, unbeknownst to yourself that you were smiling as a burst of memories flood in. Although the memories that came with the rest of the pictures are rather a hazy blur, you stumbled upon the last photo of the book as you flipped through the pages.
It was a photo of you three together.
An actual photo that atleast looked presentable.
Well, aside from that really big smile you have and the two of your brothers in a frown— you'd say this is the most presentable one yet. Your smile grows, replaying the clear memory of that moment, one that you promised to yourself you'd never forget.
You were on the 3rd grade, same as Rin, while Sae was on the 5th. It was the junior championships, second phase of the sports festival. You were ecstatic, after all what proud sister wouldn't? You watched as Sae swiftly passing Rin, followed by Sae precisely kicking the ball towards the Goal— finishing the game. 
" Smile for the picture ! " the camera man said. 
Sae is in the middle of his team holding a trophy, with a face that says 'It's only natural to win' , and a bored look. Next to him  was you smiling, proud. And to the other side, he notices Rin, with a noticable frown. He goes in thought for a moment, then handing Rin his trophy while looking away, slightly embarrassed since he wasn't used to showing affection so openly to his brother, or anyone really. And finally, the photo was taken. Rin on the other hand, was still mesmerized by the trophy, it being the first one he's ever held. You notice their small interaction and couldn't help but give a grin. You know that Sae wasn't the type to show such affection, given the tall walls he put up at such young age. Sometimes, you even wonder if he considers you and rin siblings or just, some distant relative that is blood related. But that one small moment was just enough reassurance that what you have put countless thoughts on was fortunately wrong. 
You look at the photo, still fresh. Bowing to never forget this moment.
What went wrong?
"If I win, our dreams over"  Sae states, his feet hovering over the ball. "I.. I don't want to" Rin mutters out, "I don't want to play a game like this."  
"You Ready Rin?" he says, in that same blank tone. "This is a one shot match." 
"Why?.." 
"Rin, in the four years I was away from here..."
" What have you been doing? "
─────────
along with the fond memory of a moment that you vow will never disappear, another comes along, one you'll never forget, the day Sae left.
There you were, watching them as you dropped the small stuff toy Sae has given you for your 12th birthday. You wanted to say something, get in the middle of this, stop this. But somehow, something was stopping you, you wanted go, but at the moment, your instinct told you that this wasn't the right moment. This was their moment.
Sae was walking towards the airport, until you come rushing to him– trying to stop him. Not atleast without an actual conversation.
"Sae, please.. don't leave. Don't leave us." You plead, tears running down eyes.
Sae stops, not even turning around. " Maybe you see me as someone special to you." he says, in that same blank tone. "But to me," his breath hitches ever so slightly. It's almost unnoticeable, but you know. "You're just an eyesore of an annoying little sister."
" You don't mean that." you say, letting out a sniffle. "We're siblings. You don't.. mean that." you say, trying to holding back more tears.
"Don't full yourself just by being born as my sister. If you can't play football, you're not worth anything at all." , he says "You're not necessary in my life anymore"
"Get lost, [name]" his final words before leaving.
end of part one , part two
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note . yes, some of these happened cannonly . Omf I accidentally deleted this post, so I had to rewrite a bunch of stuff. But hey, atleast I got it done! anyways, I got the translations from netflix, + here's where I got inspo from
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this is the request
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hi! you guys can call me raven. I don't think rin and sae are the type of siblings to openly fight when they're at the dinner table. I imagine it to beawkward between the two of them ever since Sae left— plus, rin admires his older brother, not that hes gonna say it out loud. thats one of the reasons rin is aiming to be top striker,no? to be alongside his brother.
anyways, YEAH you can be that anon!
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restinslices · 10 months ago
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Everything
PJO Show Ares x Child!Reader (no gender specified)
Word count: 2459
Summary: Ares supposedly hates kids, so it’s really strange that he comes when you call. (Do not let the summary fool you, this is not fluff. Based on a dream I had a couple days ago. Warning for possible ooc Ares and brief mentions of abuse. Blink and you’ll miss it type shit)
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“I don't wanna say”, Grover fingers fidgeted with each other as he purposefully avoided eye contact with you. 
“We're friends, right?”
“Of course!”
“Then you have to tell me! You spoke to my father, I gotta know what he said! What was he like? I bet he was really cool! Man, I wish I could've been there and talked to him”, you looked down at your shoes and added more misery to your face than was necessary. It was extremely childish and petty but Grover kept refusing to tell you what your father Ares was like. You had to know though. You doubted he brought you up, but you still wanted to know what he said and what he was like when he was just out and about. Grover had the opportunity to have a long talk with him and that was something you'd kill and suffer for. 
“I doubt you'd wanna do that” he mumbled, but you heard him. 
“Why'd you say that?” You asked. 
Grover refused to expound on what he meant… at first. 
Everyone knew Grover couldn't hold water so it didn't take too much prodding before he spilled his guts. 
The memory replayed in your head more than you'd like to admit, and if it were up to you, you'd no longer be a half blood. 
It made you feel pathetic. Tons of gods- no. All the gods were shitty parents. After all, they had children with mortals and left the children on Earth, knowing they'd be hunted down. Plenty of half bloods died in a gruesome painful way and at a young age. Plenty of gods never claimed their children, even if they made it to Camp Half Blood. But Ares did claim you, so you assumed that that meant he cared for you in some way. He even gifted you with a double sided sword. Surely, he must've loved you. 
You were foolish and you hated how foolish you were. You should've known he didn't care. He left you here with mortals and watched as your home life got worse and worse which was due to multiple factors including a piss poor mother and step family, the aura children of Ares give off that makes people around them experience rage and of course the random monster attacks that your family blamed you for. It was as if they thought you begged Ares to be his child. As if you'd ever do something as stupid as that. 
The rain soaked through your hood, making your hair all wet and gross. You were an idiot. You tried coming home for the school year, thinking maybe your family changed. They said they did. They tended to lie a lot though. You got into a huge fight and stormed out and you were in such a hurry that you completely forgot to grab your pouch full of drachmas and you didn't wanna step another foot in that house. So now here you were, outside with freezing cold hands that couldn't be warmed because your hoodie was soaking and you couldn't call Chiron. Perfect.
You checked your pockets once again, hoping to find something other than the lighter and fruit roll up that was there but alas, nothing magically appeared. You held the two objects in your hand and an idea formed in your mind. 
You could always set the fruit roll up on fire as an offering. You could pray to your father and hope he hears you and sends you something to help. 
No. That's incredibly stupid. Could you even light a fruit roll up on fire? It didn't matter. Not only was that the stupidest offering ever but you refused to pray to him. You'd rather sleep out in the rain then sneak inside when your family was gone to get your shit. 
You put the two objects in your pocket and let your head rest on your knees, exhaustion hitting. It wasn't even physical exhaustion. It was all mental and emotional. Like a leech was sucking on you constantly. Or a vampire. You'd prefer that. At least you'd die quicker. 
The hum of a motorcycle filled your ears, getting closer and closer. Best case scenario, it was a neighbor. Worst case scenario, it was a murderer. Honestly, you'd welcome both. 
The hum stopped and a familiar voice made you look up, “rough night”. 
It was him. Ares. God of war. Father to who knew how many. It was someone you definitely did not want to see… or so you thought. Part of you absolutely despised him now and everything to do with him and wanted to rip him apart. The other part of you though still felt an immense amount of joy when you saw him and you wanted to cling to him like a child clings to its favorite toy. If you were alone, you would've screamed. 
Then a thought crossed your mind. You didn't burn anything. You didn't make an offering. 
“You were going to” he said, seeming to read your mind. 
“Why are you here?” you managed to get out after some time of just staring at him. 
“Why do you think I'm here?” he asked and you could tell by his tone he meant it sarcastically. Like “the reason is so obvious. Stop being stupid”. 
Something about that sarcastic and irritated tone made you think back to what Grover told you. 
“Why don't you like me?” You asked and you hadn't meant to. It was supposed to stay in your head. 
He squinted his eyes at you and looked you up and down, “what?”. 
You could've let it go. You could've said nevermind, thanked him and let him help. You couldn't though. You didn't know when you'd have this chance again (the camp visited them but damn, there was a lot of you) and if you did something to make him not like you, you wanted to fix it. But that wasn't your job, right? Parents are supposed to care for their kids. 
You did that a lot. Your mind juggled opposite thoughts and it drove you insane. This was just the latest bit of juggling you'd been doing. 
“Grover said he spoke to you-”
“Who is Grover?”
“Percy's friend. The satyr”. A look of anger flashed in his eyes. You knew he remembered Percy. You didn't give him time to start yelling about the 12 year old that beat him in a fight. “Grover said that he spoke to you. I asked what it was like and he said that you said that you hate kids. Even your own. And when we visit, it's the worst day of the year. So, I was just wondering why you don't like me. Is it something I've done?”. 
Ares just rolled his eyes and sighed, “you're taking that personal?”. 
“It's kinda hard not to”. 
“I came to take you back to camp, not talk about whatever crisis you're having right now”. 
You didn't know if you were angry because of what he said, or because of his effect on others. Either way, blood started rushing to your head. “I'm not asking for a lot. I'm asking for an answer. A simple answer. Why don't you like me?”
“I don't like any of my kids”
“And that makes it better?” You asked in disbelief. Ares just stared at you, emotion void on his face. 
“Why do you do this? You keep having kids even though you hate them. Why?”. 
“It's not that simple and I don't have to explain anything to you”. You wished he'd show emotion. Any sliver of it. He was too calm, too numb. You'd prefer him yelling at you but nothing seemed to phase him. He was talking to you the same way you'd talk to a toddler. 
“It is incredibly simple. Just stop having sex with mortals. You already have Aphrodite -who is a married woman but whatever-” you rushed the last part. You didn't particularly care for the affairs between the gods. “How could your eyes possibly wander?”. 
Seeing him show a sliver of anger when you mentioned Aphrodite only filled you with more rage. That’s what angered him? That’s what got emotion out of him? “Really? That's what gets you? What about me being drenched?”
“You chose to come out here” he said through gritted teeth. If you knew Aphrodite was the key to him showing any piece of human emotion, you would've brought her up earlier. 
“I didn't choose this!” Your voice rose, “I didn't choose to be abandoned by my father and be stuck with a dysfunctional family for the rest of my life. You should be angry at that, not me mentioning Aphrodite. You should be enraged at the thought of anyone putting their hands on me and your hands should be covered in their blood! That is how it should be”. 
“Believe it or not the gods aren't too keen on the idea of killing mortals”
“But turning them into various objects and ruining their lives when it's a boring Tuesday is ok?”. His face went back to being blank and emotionless and your plan to stop talking was scrapped. You weren't even sure what you wanted. You wanted him to show something besides anger. Sadness? Regret maybe? Just something to show that maybe, just maybe, he cared deep down and regretted leaving you. 
“None of us asked for this. You all just decide to create and leave us. And you hating the people you created is… I don't know. And it's so stupid that I've spent years of my life trying to get you to be proud of me, only for it to be impossible!”. 
“I claimed you didn't I?” he defended himself, but you scoffed. 
“That's the bare minimum dad! That's like saying your kids should be grateful because you feed them!” You were full on screaming by now and you wouldn't have been surprised if a neighbor came out to see what the fuss was about. “I don't even know why I'm having this conversation with you. You probably hate being called 'dad’ and you don't care. You're never gonna get it”
“I try everyday to make you see me and you do everything in your power to not see me. To not see any of us. I would work myself to death for you. I would betray anyone close to me for you. If you asked me to burn down the world for you, I would. If you asked me to extinguish the sun, I'd find a way to because to me… to me you were everything. You are everything”. 
You couldn't tell if your face was wet from the rain, or from tears of sorrow and anger. It could've been both. Your eyes certainly stung and you hated it. You knew you had every right to be frustrated, but you hated how weak it made you feel. The children of Ares weren't supposed to cry. They were supposed to be headstrong and fight their enemies. They were supposed to be fierce warriors capable of bringing armies down to their knees. They were meant to shed blood, not tears. 
You thought for a second you saw an emotion cross his face. You couldn't pinpoint it though. It happened too fast and there was a good chance you were imagining things. 
“You can go. I'd rather sleep in the rain. I wouldn't wanna be even more of a burden” you spat with such venom you didn't know it was possible. Sure, you could have a bit of a temper but this felt different. It wasn't just anger or annoyance. There was a mix of grieving. 
It went silent for awhile, and the adrenaline you felt slowly went down. Reality started to sink in. You just yelled at a god. People who were known to cause destruction for something as small as “I think my shoes are better than yours”. 
“Are you gonna curse me? Or, I don't know, strangle me with my own shoe laces?”. Ares reached into his pocket and you looked away and closed your eyes. You expected to feel a burning sensation. That's what you assumed being cursed was like. A burning sensation and then you'd lose a limb or something. 
All you felt was something land on your lap. You looked down and saw a red pouch with gold string keeping it closed. You looked up at him, but he didn't say anything. You untied the string and opened the pouch and inside laid a pile of drachmas. 
Now he spoke, “call Chiron or whoever else works at that camp. Don't die out here”. 
“You're leaving?” You asked. You didn't know why you were disappointed. You should've been happy. After all, you just went off on him about how shit he was. 
“I have a busy schedule”. You wanted to ask if he'd be seeing the married woman he slept with or another unfortunate mortal, but you figured you pushed your luck enough today. 
“Thanks uhh…” you debated on calling him dad but instead you called him by his name. “Ares”. Then you remembered some gods could be particularly upset when you used their name. “God of war and all those other honorifics”. 
“Yeah” was all he said before he sped off, leaving you alone once again. You didn't know what he was saying “yeah” to but you didn't have enough time to ask and he probably wouldn't even answer. 
You called Chiron and asked to be brought back to camp but you didn't tell him about the conversation you had with Ares. 
You couldn't get the conversation out of your head, even after you showered and laid down to finally get some rest. 
Of course you kept thinking about the conversation and how lucky you were Ares didn't throw you into the street and run you over. 
Another thing stayed on your mind though. 
You didn't give an offering. You were told the gods would listen if you burned something that mattered, like the thickest piece of meat on your plate. You weren't sure they were actually listening and honestly you thought it was a real asshole condition. 
All you had was some stupid candy and you didn't even burn that and the minute you thought about it, he appeared like he was already watching. 
But you doubted he was watching. You doubted he listened to your prayers at all. 
You were one of his children which was something he hated. He'd claim you, possibly send a gift then be done with you. He didn't listen to you anymore. He didn't watch over you anymore. 
It was a coincidence. That's all it was. 
You were sure of it. 
At least, you tried to be. 
This is definitely ooc Ares but YA’LL KNOW I’M A LITTLE FUCKING SLOW! BE PATIENT WITH ME GOTDAMMIT😭 If you saw any errors, no you did not. I already proofread it once and I don’t feel like doing it again like I typically do. It’s 1am. I should be asleep.
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youronlydarlin · 10 months ago
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warning: kinda sad ANGST, Simon losses you :( , ooc kinda?? But he's soft for you only, trust me bro
This was kinda inspired by that one part in the comics where our poor, Si holds his mums skull, n he jus'... Kinda nuzzles into it. I dunno it just bought on some sad feeling, mkay...
Simon who slightly raises the cup of tea he's drinking each time he has one, just to let you know he's relaxing. Or trying his best too, at least. Doesn't know what he'll do if he worried you from beyond the grave. Sometimes he looks at all the belongings you left behind. Saying how they probably miss you, but not nearly as much as he does.
Unlike some, Simon uses your things. He doesn't want the house to go through the pain of loosing you too. So he drinks from your mug, and sits on your chair. Reads your favorite books, but never takes out the book marks in case you want to continue reading them. He also completes your bucket list for you, and even though he's the one doing them he always whispers 'good job, to the wind, hoping they'll carry the messenge to you.
Simon who speaks to your framed pictures. He remembers each, and every memory behind them. "Bet your happy... Now it'll always be my turn to grab the 'bloody groceries.." he jests. He hopes that one made you laugh. Knowing you, you would've. It's a mystery how you always laughed at his lame jokes. Though your laugh's always been better than the awful punchlines.
Simon who passes by that cafe you bugged him to go with you to, and he feels his throat go dry. He never got to take you there because of a sudden call from Price, telling him about an urgent, albeit sudden, mission. He definitely regrets not taking you out on dates more often. There's so many shops opening that he knows you would've loved to see.
Simon who's heart breaks at how quickly the world turns without you. Everything's moving so quickly, leaving him behind like it's already moved on, and he hates it. He hates how there's less clothes to fold now. Food is served, but only for one. The taste of it is flavorless, and dry. It's times like these, that he wishes he should have took the time and learn your recipes.
But what's worse, is that your side of the bed is cold. And it'll remain that way forever. At times he'll reach for you absentmindedly. Nightmares about war traded for dreams about you, but during those dreamless nights where sleep doesn't visit he'll stroke your pillow the same way he'd do to keep your hair out of your face, and pull the covers over the empty space you once occupied. He wonders if it's cold where you are right now. But just know that he's always willing to warm you up if ever you come back.
Simon who...
Stands at the doorway. Bag slinged over his shoulder, full of everything he needs and more for deployment. He knows he can't leave without properly saying goodbye, so he fishes out his wallet, and digs out a picture of you. He holds it up to his face, and it's funny. How you're not even staring at the camera when the photo was taken. No, you were staring at him. This one's always been his favorite. So he clears his throat, and wishes you don't hear the slight shake in his tone.
"..By now you would've told me to be careful.. And I will, by the way. But, m' sorry for all the times I didn't...'
....
" I have to go now. Don't need them gettin' on my ass for 'being late.. so.."
....
"..You just rest now, ok, love? There's nothing else for you to worry about' anymore. I love you, always. Wish me, and the boys luck, yeah?.."
He gives a light kiss to your photo, and it's as if you're with him when he steps outside the door..
a/n: This was a challenge to write, and I don't know what to feel about the results. I'm just polishing my english, I guess. M'not good at writing angst, you can probably tell, also my grammar feels off on this one, again. English isn't my first language, sorry. So please correct me on any mistakes I've made! But putting all that aside, I hope you like this more than I do! And, always remember that you are loved, and cared for! Have an amazing day, my darlings!
Yours, truly,
–dolly
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beiibeiii · 7 months ago
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know its for the better
exgirlfriend!arlecchino x fem!reader
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sfw, angst, ooc arle?
art credits : celeyunn on Twitter
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you really shouldn't of ran away from home. you were feeling miserable from arlecchino breaking up with you. you had accidentally argued with your mother and ran out the house. the rain harshly fell from above. it was cold and late at night. you were drenched in water and you hadn't brought an umbrella.
it had already been 2 weeks since arlecchino broke up with you. you remember that night so vividly. the way her eyes coldly stared you down. "i'm breaking up with you." she said. your heart shattered just at the thought of it again. she walked off without another word or an explanation. you were in tears, left with more questions than answers as you wondered what you did wrong. you had already heard the rumours of arlecchino playing with everyones hearts. you felt stupid at the fact you thought of yourself as an exception.
you wandered around, shivering as you recalled that heartbreaking memory. you walk and walk.. until, eventually, you walk past the park you had your first date in. the place brought back bitter sweet memories. you feel a wave of misery and sadness in you. you missed her. and so, as the rain starts to get even heavier, so did your heart. you were hugging yourself in hopes of keeping warm. your mind could only wonder to the one question - why she broke up with you.. you wanted to know, but you fear that knowing would hurt even more. until something broke you out of your thoughts.
"y/n?"
your breath hitched at your name being called. you knew that familar voice. you were scared to turn around, you felt like bursting into tears, your chest felt so tight. what do you do? you cant face her, you dont have the heart to-
you felt the rain stop. the loud sounds of pitter pattering over you. an umbrella was being held over you..
"you will catch a cold.. let me walk you home."
you felt her behind you. her body warmth behind you felt so familiar. it felt good. you couldn't help but turn around to look up at her. she didn't look any different.. nor did she any worse or any better. she was still the same.. the expression on her face was calm. just like she normally was. her words had a touch of gentleness lingering around them, just like they normally did. what was the meaning behind this? why was she here..
you feel your lips tremble at the feeling of her eyes peering over you. you couldn't make out what were behind those eyes. was it regret or sadness? or maybe even neither.. you lowered your head, you feel your stomach churn as you finally replied with a nod.
you two walked down the streets quietly. not a word said. it was an uncomfortable.. yet an comfortable silence.. you kept your head lowered, holding back the tears welling up in your eyes.
arlecchino's eyes remained on the road, her footsteps measured as she walked. after a few minutes of quietude, she spoke up, her voice soft yet steady. "your mother was worried sick. she was concerned about where you went."
her gaze drifted off to your downcast one. she was hit by a truck of guilt as her eyebrows furrowed slightly. but quickly put her more 'stoic' front back up again. there was a sliver of warmth in her voice, indicating she genuinely cared.
thats right.. your mother doesnt know you two broke up yet. she must of assumed you ran off to her house.. your lips throat felt so tight.
"you have been in contact with her?.." you said quietly, trying holding back your hoarse voice. not wanting her to think that you wasn't taking the breakup easily.
"she messaged me 15 minutes ago." arlecchino remarked, a hint of concern in her voice. "she was worried about where you had went." arlecchino's gaze flicked towards you, and for a moment, her stoic facade disappeared, replaced by a glint of worry. you couldnt answer her, you didn't know how to.
"your shivering.." she pointed out, her voice gentle.
your lips pushed together as you held back the urge to cry. seeing her only made your heart break more than anything. your footsteps and the loud impact of the rain pelting onto the umbrella could be heard. why was she holding the umbrella over you? she had left without another word.. it made you feel so hopeless.. your expression so bitter as you refused to look or reply to her.
after being rejected of your acknowledgment, arlecchino's gaze softened further, her steps slowing down, almost to a crawl. she felt the wave of guilt wash over her, drowning her out. she reached out with a slender hand, gently cupping your cheek, forcing you to look at her.
with an hitch of your breath, your eyes widened slightly. arlecchino remained eye contact with you. her gaze somber, as if she was trying to read you. her sharp nails were dangerously, yet gently sitting on your cheek, reminding you of the pain. her hand was so warm, and so familiar..
"y/n.." Arlecchino uttered faintly, her voice a mere whisper, barely audible above the rain's pitter-patter. her gaze not daring to break away from yours.
"what is the matter?"
you felt your eyes well up in tears, yet your gaze didnt break from hers either.. her eyes were so beautiful, yet they held so much pain to you. you couldnt hold you tears back. with an blink of an eye, your tears fell down your cheek. you pull your head away from her hand, closing your eyes as you lower it. lifting an arm rub your tears away. why did she have to see you like this..
why did she still utter your name so softly..?
arlecchino's eyes widened slightly at the sight of your tears. she reached out yet again, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder, her grip firm but gentle. "y/n," she whispered once more. your name rolling off her tongue so easily. a hint of distress was evident in her voice. "please talk to me. what has made you so distraught?"
arlecchino's face became softer. she had always asked questions she knew the answers to..
"Is it something I did?"
you couldnt face or answer her. you felt like going through the ground and never coming back up. she knows why your crying. your tears fell down your cheeks. small held back sobs could only be heard. your sleeves were wet from your tears and the rain. you didn't know what had gotten into you. her words always touched the deepest parts of your heart.
arlecchino seeing how distraught you were, made her heart shatter. she didn’t force you to talk. she understood she had hurt you. she didn't push you any further, her instinct to let you cry it out kicking in.
after a short moment of silence, she softly pulled you into a hug. the umbrella was long forgotten as it had been casted away on the ground. one arm was wrapped around your waist, the other hand cradling the back of your head, gently pushing your head into her shoulder. she whispered gently, "let it all out."
your eyes widened slightly at her sudden action. arlecchino had broke up with you. why does she still embrace you? shouldnt she of gotten tired or hated you to break up with you? you didnt understand. yet her warmth felt so familar. the warm you were yearning for, for so long..
your hands gripped onto her jacket tightly. you cried and wept into her shoulder. her shoulder caught all your tears. she would rub your waist gently and stroke your wet, yet beautiful hair.
despite the both of you being drenched in water, it was warm. muffled sobs could only be heard from you. you couldn't keep yourself together. the despair and confusion only fuelled your urge to cry more.
arlecchino held you close, the downpour outside only increasing in intensity. Her embrace was warm and reassuring, a tender gesture that defied the bitterness of the night.
"i am sorry." she whispered after a while, her tone soft and remorseful.
"i didn't want to make you cry." arlecchino continued to hold you, her fingers gently stroking your hair, offering silent comfort. her body leaning into you more, you could feel her breath from above on your neck..
"w-why..?" you sob in between sobs. your voice broken and hoarse. to know arlecchino was the reason of your pain, she through her heart, feeling worse than being stabbed 10 times over..
you shook your head desperately as you sobbed. your tears, they just kept running and running. your body was shivering and your breath shaky as you held her tightly.
arlecchino's eyes welled up in compassion, her heart aching at the sight of your anguish. her dangerous, yet gentle fingers continued to stroke your hair, trying to soothe your pain.
"i made a mistake," she finally whispered quietly, a deep regret evident in her tone. her eyes narrowing as she looked down at your sorry state. arlecchino hugged you tightly, offering an unexpected apology.
"i'm sorry for hurting you."
her words were genuine. you felt the sorrow gnaw at your heart, eating you alive. her gaze never wandered off of yours. her embrace still tight as her body shielded you from the rain.
"w-why.. did you go.." you whisper out. your voice is shaky, not holding back the pain in your voice anymore. your cheeks were tearstained. your grip tightening on her jacket as you wept your soul out.
there was a short pause. arlecchino choosing her words carefully. "you deserve someone better than me." she murmured softly, her lips just brushing the shell of your ear. arlecchino continued to hold you, her embrace firm and reassuring. her hand gently running through your hair.
"i am too complicated,” she uttered gently. “too selfish."
you felt your heart drop at her words. how could she think of herself like that? you lifted your head back up at her slightly. your teary eyes meeting hers full of guilt. "that isn't true.." you whispered out.
that was all she had wanted to hear. her chest heaved slightly at the sound of your voice, her heart clenching in remorse. she pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, her hands coming to rest on either side of your head, cradling your cheeks.
"don't weep," she whispered gently, her touch tender and warm. "you shouldn't cry over someone like me." she kept denying.
you had only ever wanted her, no one else. you couldnt handle this, you just wanted everything to go back to how it was before, the love in your heart still so strong for her.
"but.. i love you." you cried out desperately. arlecchino's face broke into a look of despair. she felt the same pain you did, and the sound of your heartbroken voice tore her apart. she took a deep, shaking breath, her body trembling slightly with a mix of emotion.
"i love you too," she confessed, her voice shaking and her grip on your shoulders tightening. "i love you so much. but I cannot be the person you deserve." her eyebrows furrowed, her lips in an thin line..
you knew you had lost her at that point. you couldnt respond to her. she had given up already.. you just sobbed hardly into her shoulder once more. she allowed her shoulder to soak up your tears. the sound of your sobs caused something inside of her to crack. her grip tightened on you, one hand clutching the back of your neck, the other holding the small of your back, pulling you close against her trembling body. her heart pounded in her chest, and was strained with emotion.
"i still love you y/n .. i truly do." Arlecchino whispered in despair, her words trailing off. the rain poured furiously around you two. her words starting to pour out as if she had been holding them back for a lifetime.
"just know its for the better."
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biting-miguel-ohara · 13 days ago
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Cabin - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader
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A/N: Written for this request. I hope I did it okay. I left a lot of things vague, but I didn't wanna make up a situation for this one. Also, if anyone saw this post early, no you didn’t
I hope Logan doesn't come off as too ooc. Writing him getting angry around Reader didn't feel right for the request, so l wrote it like this instead
CW: crying, unsafe driving (due to crying), family fights, Reader has a toxic mother, I think this counts as hurt/comfort?, more crying, quiet comfort, cuddling, kissing, hugging, Logan's more of an actions guy than a words guy, hopeful ending sorta?, ooc Logan
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You were crying while driving. It’s a little bit disheartening; how well you know this road by now. How easily you can navigate it, even with your tear-blurred vision.
But you don’t stop. You can’t. Where else do you go?
It’s not the first time you’ve driven up this road after a fight with your mother. But this time was different.
You’d finally gotten the courage to come out to her. To set her straight about who you really are. And of course, everything had fallen apart the moment you’d spoken the words, “I’m trans.”
Hell hath no fury like your mother. Even now, you flinch at the memory. You push it out of your mind forcefully. The last thing you want is to start bawling and have to pull over.
Pulling over means stopping. And stopping means facing the fact that you have four boxes in the back of your car, filled with everything she let you take.
All too soon, you’re arriving at your destination. Logan’s house. It’s small. Tucked away in the mountains. Cozy, with a beautiful view.
It’s become your safe place. The one place your mother’s too scared to venture. It’s home.
And now it may really become your home.
You take the time to clean your face up. Making it look a little less like you’ve been crying. He’ll be able to tell; you already know. But it helps you focus on something.
Finally, you exit your car. You leave the boxes in the back, taking only yourself as you walk up to the front door. His truck is in the driveway, so you open the door without knocking.
“Logan?”
“In the living room.” His voice is gruff and immediately soothing. Just the sound has a weight lifting off your shoulders.
You go further in, toeing off your shoes at the doorway.
He’s lounging in the living room, comfortably sprawled on the couch. He’s reading a book, though he puts it down once you enter. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
Something breaks in your chest at his question. Your heart, maybe. Tears spring to your eyes and your voice comes out shaky. “I got kicked out.”
Logan sits up, beckoning you to come closer. “Come here. Tell me what happened.”
You make it into the safety of his arms before everything spills out with a sob. And oh, you tell him everything.
You can feel him tense as you speak, but he never gets angry. He never says anything. He just holds you.
Once you’re all done, he rubs your back. Quietly soothing you into soft hiccups of breath. Your tears have all dried up, leaving your eyes itchy and sore. You feel like shit, except for the fact that you're with him.
“Say something?” You whisper.
He rumbles out a sigh. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need. A place to stay, a voice against her. I’ll do whatever it is you want me to.”
You think about what you want. What you need. “I want to stay here. Will you help me get the boxes out of my car?”
He pulls you in for a gentle kiss and nods. But he hesitates before getting up. “No matter who you are, you’re always safe here. You’re always safe to be yourself.”
It’s gruffly said, but clearly heartfelt. You know he’s rarely so direct about it; preferring unspoken ways of love to words. But he’s doing it for you.
You hug him tightly, a silent appreciation of his words. He’s never been one for grandiose displays of affection or comfort. Instead, he’s your cabin in the mountains. Quiet. Steady. Always there when you need it.
It gives you hope. Confidence. Logan’s got your back. Whatever you decide to do, whatever ways you choose to continue on, he’ll go with you.
It gives you the strength to stand up, gather your shoes, and lead him out to finally face the boxes in your car.
No matter what, you’ve got Logan. And she can never take that away from you.
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Logan Howlett Taglist: @yhlqmdlg @alekkkkssss
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lightsblinded · 9 months ago
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I'm so tired from work so I didn't end up celebrating it, but Tess' birthday was Wednesday the 21st. Happy 38th birthday Tess.
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ariicandy · 6 months ago
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Take Us to The Stars Tonight
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Summary — He loves recalling the memory of when he confessed his love to you, a special place, a special moment, a special memory he will never forget.
Notes — been a while since I have wrote! It’s been 2 and a half months.. Hopes it’s decent enough to be enjoyable, haven’t wrote for aventurine properly before! Wanted to add boothill originally but I needed to get this fic out so will do another version w/ boothill!!
Warning(s) — might be ooc aventurine as stated above, haven’t really done penacony story so he probably doesn’t go to these areas
Word count — 1,140 words
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It was a strange thing that Aventurine has been having feelings whenever he encounters you. He feels the need to shower you with exquisite treasures even more if this weird tingly that he is feeling is trying to tell him. It is really strange. He’s been feeling this weird aching feeling within him he cannot describe or even seem to understand what it is for a while now. It started after a while of meeting you, first seeing you while he was roaming in golden hour. Where it only seemed to be a brief conversation, now turned to an everyday routine to see each other and talk about your day with each other. It’s weird how Aventurine was yearning for you more and more now without even realizing himself. He would send more messages to you, trying to engage with you more on whatever there is to talk about or even encouraging you to continue your talk of your day.
So to suddenly realize this tingly feeling that’s always making him feel weird is because he is in love with you. It makes him stop in his tracks on whatever he might be doing to suddenly realize that his feelings towards you are of love, not just the feeling of pampering you much more. But, how can he tell you that he loves you? Do you share the same mutual feelings? Is he overthinking this and this feeling is only just to pamper you more? It’s stressing him out and knowing there is only one way to find out..
To say Aventurine was nervous was an understatement. He was overthinking everything you guys had, fidgeting with his left hand a lot more while waiting for you to come and meet with him at Aideen Park. Maybe he should have picked a better location where it’s mainly just the two of you alone without being heard. It’s not like he can just change location last minute when you are on your way from the message you sent him a few minutes ago. Now he is fiddling with the tiny shopping bag he bought a bracelet with your name on it for you. Maybe he should have gotten something more that could make up this nervous situation, Aventurine only shakes him head and sighs ready to gamble with fate of his feelings for you.
“Ah I found you Aventurine!” The sound of your voice made aventurine turn to you with his usual smirk. “Ah, look who finally made it. I got this gift for you while I was on my way over here to the park.” Which wasn’t a completely lie, to say. Aventurine did look a various luxury jewelry stores that he will think deserve to feel your touch and be the symbol of him being yours, if you do accept it of course. A small gasp was lead out by you seeing him hold the small bag knowing it was worth a lot, he always bought you luxury goods when you try your best to tell him he doesn’t need to shower you with such expensive things. He always say its okay with whatever he buys you that you know is draining his wallet without him giving it a single thought, it worries you why he likes to pamper you with such lavish gift. “But, before I give you this gift, I must tell you something first.” Aventurine words made you curious and all ears to hear, and he could see that as he continued turning his head to the left of him to gaze the sky.
“To be quite honest with you, [Name], i actually never thought this day would come to talk you fully about me. I’ve been thinking that something weird happened to me while I wasn’t aware of in my chest.” Puzzled by Aventurine’s words you asked, “What do you mean?” You showing aventurine he has your full attention solely on him he continued, “I’m not sure when it started or what specifically made me have this weird feeling in my chest. But I do know an idea of who might have caused it. Would you like to take a guess?” Aventurine now fully turns to you seeing your shock expression on wanting you to guess, did he really need to do his little tricks at this moment? While you were hesitating to answer, aventurine was also scared of hearing what you might say. He just wants to see what you might assume the reason of his weird feeling from knowing his fellow co-workers at the IPC, the deals or gambles he makes with people. “Hmm, I’m not entirely sure I can guess why. It confuses me, who did you think might be the cause?” Hearing your response, aventurine forms a tiny smile. “You, [Name].” His response shocks you, how could you be the cause that aventurine has been having a weird feeling? It is a bad thing or good thing? It’s unknownly stressing you to find out. “Huh?! Me? What do you mean??” “You, [Name], have gave me his weird feeling in chest that has been guessing for what felt like ages. Not knowing why I always had this weird happy sense with you that I could not figure out what it actually was. That was until about 2 months ago during my break when I was messaging you, the reason why.” Aventurine then started to reach for the small shopping bag that he was carrying, bringing out a small box that looked delicate. He carefully lifted the lid up and revealed a lavish bracelet that had your name written in cursive. Shocked and surprised by the gift aventurine was going to give you this beautiful bracelet out of nowhere. Whatever money aventurine spent to buy and make this bracelet for you, oh you will repay him for this how could not? “The reason is, that i actually love you, [Name]. I never realized why i always wanted to get you more things for you to have no matter what you say or try to repay me. It can never replace you actually seeing me as someone, a person, and not just doing business with me. I own you my heart, for being the person i truly do love and enjoy being with.” He grabbed your hand and started to place the bracelet on your wrist, clipping it to secure it stays on your wrist. “Knowing you, you will try to repay me or makeup for this to be even. But I only have one thing to make it even to you.” You were still mesmerized by the bracelet and hearing him know what you would have said, you looked at him, “and what would that be?” A small genuine smile appeared on aventurine’s face. “All I ask of you is, will be my love?”
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locketsvault · 10 months ago
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「 AYATO RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS 」
pairing: ayato kirishima x gender neutral reader
tags: gender neutral reader, human reader, relationship headcanons and scenarios, sfw relationship headcanons, nsfw relationship headcanons
warnings: angst warning for our emo boy, canon gore, nsfw content in the second half of this post, it will be marked so you can skip if uncomfortable! aged up ayato when I get to nsfw content. sexual words used in the nsfw part. not proof read.
request: hii! if it’s not too much could you write something with ayato (tokyo ghoul)? nsfw or sfw, up to you! I’m dying for ayato content ahaha ;; thank youu! (original request found here.)
word count: 1.5k
a/n: I said this in the original request post but I’ll say it here too. I’m very rusty with the plot of tokyo ghoul so forgive me if he’s ooc! I’m also anime only since I’ve been having a hard time reading the manga, though I do know what happens in the manga vs the anime. (If anyone wants me to write a proper fic on how you guys met just ask, I’d honestly love to).
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// how the relationship started ⌇˚.༄
⮑ The first time you two met you were walking home from school and got attacked by a rogue ghoul. This ghoul was hunting in a no hunt zone, and you just to happened to be his prey. Ayato was surveying the area when he heard you scream and smelled human blood. Knowing who’s hunting ground it was and that it was probably the rogue ghoul he went over to see what was going on. He was surprised to see that you were fighting back, despite being hold down by the ghouls kagune and seriously injured. You actually managed to injure the ghoul too.
⮑ He took care of the ghoul trying to kill you. While half conscious you heard him mock the guy for hunting in an area with a high count of aogiri members, before tearing his head off. Right after he did you passed out from blood loss. Usually Ayato would’ve killed you or just left you to bleed out, but something about you refusing to give up struck a cord with him. So he sneakily dropped you off at the emergency room and left.
⮑ Next time you guys meet is months later, you recovered fully from the attack, only having scars to show your survival. You were sitting at a coffee shop as the sun set, as a familiar blue haired boy walked inside. At first he didn’t recognize you, and after feeling your gaze on him for a while he turns to yell at you. But suddenly the memories hit him, and he notices that your look is anything but malicious. He decided to bite back his tongue.
⮑ You two would constantly run into each other at that coffee shop. You always have him a genuine smile or silent greeting as he walked by. He found you very peculiar, how you weren’t afraid of him even though he knew damn well you knew he was a ghoul. You didn’t seem uncomfortable around his friends too, and he could tell you knew they were ghouls too.
⮑ You approached him first, having memorized his order. You gave him his coffee one of the times he came in, and thanked him for saving your life. He ofc made a negative quip about how he could care less if you died or not, but you didn’t seem to care. You intrigued him even more. So he told himself he’d give you some of his time. He’d always come to hang out with you, and without realizing it he started falling for you. He hated it.
⮑ He started pushing you away and ignoring you. He stopped showing up to the coffee shop, but he couldn’t help but watch you from afar to make sure you’re safe. One night though you get attacked again when he’s patrolling. And he absolutely loses it. He tears the other ghoul to pieces like a feral animal. He almost hurts you when you walk over to try to comfort him, he’s that crazy.
⮑ He genuinely expected you to be horrified or find him disgusting. Instead you start crying and cup his bloody cheek. His kagune is fully out, his ghoul eyes bright and burning into you, his hair absolutely disheveled. Yet you didn’t seem to care. After you cupped his cheek he could feel his heart pounding, and he slowly started to calm down.
⮑ He let his head fall into your neck as you proceed to hug him, telling him it’s okay over and over. He buried his face into your neck, taking in your scent. He was surprised when he realized the desire he felt over your scent was something quite different than he was used to. He unconsciously started nipping at your neck and scenting you, hoping to protect you as tears streamed down his face.
⮑ That night you two finally come clean about your feelings. And he, reluctantly after lots of reassurance, decides he wants to try being in a relationship with you.
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// sfw relationship headcanons ⌇˚.༄
⮑ At the start of your relationship he was very distant and awkward. He wasn’t used to affection and had never been in a committed relationship before.
⮑ He has a habit of stalking you, but not because he doesn’t trust you, he’s just that scared of losing you. You ofc know he does this and you let him, he’s your little protector.
⮑ In front of everyone else he’s an absolute brat, he misbehaves left and right and is very dangerous and powerful. But with you he’s an absolute puppy. Just one touch and he folds.
⮑ You’re the reason he’s able to keep it together as much as he does. You’re always there for him no matter what. Your arms are always open waiting for him when he comes home.
⮑ Speaking of home you two secretly live together once you move out of your parents house. He keeps your relationship as much of a secret as possible. But you don’t mind.
⮑ He panicked the first time you saw him eat leftovers at home. Knowing he eats humans is one thing, seeing it is another. He was scared you’d be uncomfortable or say something inappropriate. So he puffed up like a porcupine ready to defend himself. Instead, you reassured him it was okay. Surprisingly you sat down with him and started eating as well.
⮑ Now though if he eats he will sit next to you nonchalantly and sometimes rest his head in your shoulder as he does. You make him feel that safe.
⮑ He confides in you about his familial issues and all about his big sister. You do your best to help him talk better with Touka, it’s not easy though.
⮑ He’s actually very affectionate when he opens up. He loves hugging and holding you, along with giving you kisses. He tends to greet you with forehead kisses, it’s nice. :>
⮑ He’s pretty good with keeping you up to date on what’s going on in the ghoul world, and you help him with navigating the world as a human.
⮑ You balance each other very well.
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// nsfw relationship headcanons ⌇˚.༄
⮑ Ghoul smut, yippee.
⮑ I think we can all agree on the ghouls and pheromones and instincts and stuff like that. I’ve actually read a bunch of stuff on ghouls on this app but it’s been months and I can’t remember so forgive me.
⮑ He’s very very verryyyy possessive. Even from the start.
⮑ He won’t act on it though, he’s not ready and doesn’t want to scare you off. But boy does he get the urge all the time.
⮑ Blood kink. He loves to taste you on his lips. Biting kink too. He will leave marks, and they’ll almost always be enough to draw blood. With consent ofc.
⮑ He actually almost lost control over himself the first time you two made out.
⮑ I should probably mention you turn him on fast. Your smile, your scent, your body language. All of it gets under his skin.
⮑ Your first sexual encounter with Ayato was in an alleyway actually. It was night time, he was walking you to your shared apartment. Somehow, you ended up pressed against the wall, holding onto your boyfriend as his fingers worked magic on you. You desperately tried to stay silent since you were in public but you struggled. Even if he had little to no prior experience he’s naturally talented and knows exactly how you work.
⮑ Your first intercourse was actually kind of sweet. It was when you first moved into your apartment, your building had rooftop access. So you two camped out on the roof to watch the stars. It started off with hand holding and innocent kisses, yet somehow he ended up between your legs pounding into you.
⮑ He prefers doing the work and being dominant when it comes to sexual activity. But sometimes he will let you on top. He can’t resist the sight of you riding him.
⮑ He’s very touchy, his hands are always all over you. No matter the position you can feel his hand sliding up your inner thighs or sides.
⮑ The first time you asked him to fuck you as a ghoul he was hesitant, worried you’d be scared. He was shocked instead when you came hard the first time. He will usually let his eyes show, but sometimes he will let out his kagune too upon request.
⮑ Ayato is average length and thick, and he knows how to use it. He loves his cock, I’m sorry but he does. He loves when you try to stroke him off, or when you get down on your knees for him instead. But most of all he loves the look on your face when he makes you cum with it.
⮑ Ghouls have extra strength so he has to be careful with you, there are definitely some times where he’s accidentally hurt you while learning your limits.
⮑ He doesn’t use protection. He knows you’re both clean, and if you’re afab since you’re human he honestly believes he can’t knock you up. That being said though, he loves breeding you.
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angel-kyo · 10 months ago
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Pay it no mind
Part XIV
In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).
Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself. There is a mention of reader being injured, and I guess everyone is ooc here, but thank you for bearing with me.
Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII
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A week. Seven full days of silence. When was the last time you had gone this long without any contact with Satoru?
No calls. No messages. Not even a glimpse of him. You had learned from Ijichi that he had been sent on a mission to a distant part of the country just a couple days ago. In other words, there was nowhere to see him.
Initially, it had been a relief. After he left on that fateful night, and you allowed your feelings out. It was only then that it hit you: you had never cried over his rejection. It had hurt, and you had grieved in some way, but maybe by immediately pretending it had never happened, you had prevented yourself from accepting heartbreak.
The truth was just too scary to accept, so you had told Satoru the same lies you had been telling yourself for the past months. ‘It was just a crush’, ‘It has passed’, ‘I’m over it’.
“Liar,” you muttered to your own reflection on the bathroom mirror. Dark bags were starting to form under the eyes that returned your gaze.
Your back was sore and your sleep had not been the best during the last few days.
At first, you had been upset with Satoru, and then upset with yourself for not being able to just dodge the hit and play it cool.
Satoru must have known how much of an unpleasant memory it was for you. Why did he have to bring up the rejection again?
He was not that dense, and neither were you. Your friendship had often felt as both of you stepping right on the line between friends and lovers. Sometimes one of you would lose balance and almost fall on either side of it. Even if both of you denied it, none of you had a similar relationship with anyone else. Still, you believed he had given you the definitive push the day he rejected you.
If he could not feel the same, you could respect that. In fact, you had vowed to just forget it. But why did he have to kiss you while being aware of the hold he had on you?
It’s probably nothing to him, that’s why.
You remembered what Shoko had told you once.
“He is a bit selfish when it comes to you,” Shoko said softly, putting her head on your shoulder.
It must have been summer with how hot it was, and you could see droplets of sweat forming on Shoko’s forehead. You and she were sitting on a bench, outside of a convenience store. She had sent Geto and Gojo for drinks inside.
Satoru had initially said that Shoko and Suguru should go, but Ieiri had refused, saying she was getting a heatstroke and needed to sit down, with you to keep her company. Gojo rolled his eyes but let Suguru pulled him into the store anyway.
“Are you really feeling unwell?”
She only smiled.
At the beginning of your friendship with Suguru and Shoko, Satoru had wanted for all of you to get along, but he was not particularly appreciative of you spending too much time with either of them without him. He had loosened up quickly, though, but Shoko and Suguru were an exception. If he could keep you by his side, he would.
He could not take it back. All he had said and done; all the ways he made it look like there was more to it when there was not.
He can’t take any of it back, and neither can I. Paying it no mind is not going to solve it either.
You looked at your phone. You had sent Satoru a message earlier, just to make sure he was okay. Not that you should worry; he was strong, and if the world had not yet collapsed under curses, he was probably still alive. However, it was not like him to stay away from you this long with nothing but radio silence in between.
I guess I did kick him out, so I can’t blame him.
You washed your face and went to bed, not bothering to take your phone back to the bedroom. You needed to sleep, and the only person you cared to chat with at the moment had not even read your message.
***
“Okay, this one is it. Just try it out.” Satoru patted the mattress of the queen size bed he had found at the department store you were currently at.
You sat down. “It’s… It’s okay,” you said.
To Satoru, you did not sound impressed at all. “Just okay?”
You nodded. “Comfortable.”
“Is that how you try out a mattress? Do you sleep sitting up, [name]?” he asked smiling as he laid down on the sample bed.
You looked around. None of the other clients were really looking at you, too focused on their own shopping to care, but still…
“It’s kind of embarrassing.” You directed your eyes back to Satoru.
“It’s not, and it’s the only right way to do it,” Satoru said smiling and patting the mattress again so you would lay down too, which you finally did.
“And?” he asked.
The ceiling lights of the store were a little too bright, but if you focused only on how the mattress felt, it was indeed comfortable.
You had just signed the lease for your first apartment and getting some furniture was the next thing on your to-do list to become an independent person. Among the basics, having something to sleep on would be nice. That is how Satoru had accompanied you shopping for your first mattress.
“It’s more than okay,” you admitted.
“You should get it then.”
“How much is it, though?” Your eyes widened a bit after looking at the price, and you got up from the spot immediately. "Forget it. It's one zero too much."
I wouldn’t be surprised if they charged for just trying it.
Satoru, on the other hand, could not have looked more unbothered even if he tried. This was why going shopping with him and a budget in mind was useless.
“If this is the one you like, I would not mind…”
You shook your head. “No way. I have a budget, I just need to stick to it,” you reassured him. “Besides, this one would not even fit in my bedroom.”
Of course, he would not mind lending you money. He might not even ever ask you to pay back, but this was your quest for independence. You would rather not to lean on his resources. It was the same reason you had declined Yaga’s offer to crash at the school dorms, even though now that you were starting your teaching career there, it might have been convenient. It was going to be nice to have your own space, plus, now that all your former classmates had left, the dorms were too empty and too full of memories at the same time.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” A store clerk had spotted you and landed next to you. The woman was quick to compliment the model ‘you two’ had chosen.
Satoru had sat up and was now looking at her. When she looked at him more closely, her words halted, and a light blush appeared on her cheeks.
Right, that’s the effect he has on people.
You mentally thanked Satoru for being so good-looking that people would become speechless on his presence and allow you to speak instead.
“Actually,” you started, “this is not quite what I’m looking for.”
“Oh, well…” She seemed to have recovered from the momentary shock of first meeting Satoru’s face, “We have some other options that are preferred by couples. I will be glad to show you…”
You and Satoru shared a small smile. Another one, huh?
“We are not…” he said.
“We are friends,” you stated.
“Oh, sorry.” Her smile looked sincere, “Then is there anything you are looking for in particular?”
“Are there any… smaller options?” you asked hopeful. Maybe she had some cheaper ones too.
She nodded politely and asked you to follow her to another area of the store.
“Smaller?” Satoru had stood up to follow you. “How will we both sleep in it?” He was smirking.
You elbowed him, and he was kind enough to pretend it had hurt.
“Don’t say anything else that will confuse the lady,” you hissed and he chuckled.
That day, Satoru pretty much ended up picking your bed. It was not as big as he had wanted it, but it was comfortable enough and, to your delight, within budget. The only downside to Satoru was that it would require a bit of effort for both of you to fit in.
***
“Fancy seeing you here.” Satoru sat across from Shoko at her table in the school cafeteria.
She had decided to take a break from reviewing files at the infirmary and usually, she would not go to the cafeteria, but you had pulled her there so many times that her feet had carried her there almost automatically.
She looked at Gojo’s face. “You are back.”
“Got back last night.” He took out his phone and Shoko saw him check something on the screen and put it down on the table. Was it her imagination or he seemed tired? Tough to say without seeing his eyes, but he did have a duller aura around him right now.
Shoko raised her cup of tea to her lips and eyed Satoru’s phone.
“New phone?” she asked.
Satoru had leaned back on his chair and a adopted a more carefree expression. Even if he was a grown man, Shoko would have said he looked just the same as when they were highschoolers.
“Yeah…” It was impossible to tell, but Ieiri also thought his eyes were looking around the cafeteria, and she had a hunch on what he was searching for, or rather, who. “The other one broke down. It’s the same number, though.”
His phone had broken down three days ago, it slipped and the screen turned pitch black. It had not shut down immediately, though, and it still rang when Ijichi called him, but if he could not see the screen, it was no use keeping it.
Satoru had not really cared at first, only getting a cheap phone to communicate through the end of his mission. Ijichi had gotten a more suitable replacement ready for him when he got back, and it was only after setting it up and retrieving his backup data, that Satoru realized you had actually messaged him days ago.
Unlucky.
He had not replied yet, figuring he would see you at the school anyway and could maybe set things straight between you two. However, he had not encountered you across campus, and when he peeked at your class, your students were being looked after by a first-grade sorcerer he had seen around a few times, filling in the substitute teacher position.
He wanted to ask Shoko. “Say, Sho-”
“[name] took a couple days off,” she interrupted him while placing her cup back on the table and encircling it with both hands.
Can she read minds?
Shoko could not, but knowing Gojo, it was taking him long enough to ask about you.
"Oh."
She looked at him. “They...”
Shoko wanted to tell Satoru you had paid her a visit after one of your missions that week, but she was not sure you would have wanted Gojo to know.
Ieiri had been surprised at first when she saw you that day. A lot of blood always made it difficult to perceive at first glance how big a wound really was. After a closer inspection, she realized the injuries on your torso were not too concerning, not for someone with her abilities at least.
But if they were a regular person and I was a regular doctor, they would have probably been bed-ridden for a while, she thought.
She had had you in walking condition after a couple days, but it still bothered her. Getting injured during missions was the norm for sorcerers, especially younger ones, however, she knew you were experienced in battle. A scratch here and there was expected, but she had seen you returning more beaten up lately.
They are taking on more difficult missions, that was what she wanted to tell Gojo. She was not sure whether you were trying to get promoted or if for some reason they were actively assigning you missions above your rank.
The cup Shoko was holding was warming her hands.
A thought assaulted her mind: There is no predicting the higher-ups.
If you had upset one and now had a target on your back, Satoru could help you out, could he not?
“What is it?” Gojo tilted his head looking straight at Ieiri, or at least she felt this time he was looking at her.
“Nothing. I think they will be back tomorrow.”
Satoru had thought about visiting you, but seeing how that turned out last time, he decided to wait.
Giving you space was the right call in his experience. Usually, no matter what the problem was, you could talk it through when you both had had some time to mull it over.
But, in this case, how much time did you need?
The whole situation was like nothing you and him had faced before. Fighting over snacks or over a joke that went a step too far was one thing. The look you had given him that night and the way you called him selfish, that was completely different, and it had haunted him since he left your apartment.
Satoru grabbed his phone and finally replied to your message. He hit 'send' and offered an attempt of a smile to Shoko.
“If I asked for advice, would you give me some?”
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Note: I almost forgot my iconic note (even though I'm the only one who thinks it's iconic). And the note is... there is no note, just my love. <3
Thank you for reading!
Next: Part XV
@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha @zacatecanaaaa @blushhpeachh @astriarose @missesgojosatoru @ba-ks @sukunasleftkneecap @songbirdlully @cole-silas @heijihattorisgf @chokesonspit @hersheyzzz @smolbeanzzz @luciledreamz @avidreadee123 @moonmalice @ratscandaler @sadmonke @allie-jay @username23345 @spin-garden @ashehateaccount @kayzens @blehtotheblehtothebleh
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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 6 months ago
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Chapter 17: How Could I Ever Forget?
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter seventeen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 9.1K
Warnings: References to sex, Cursing, Angst, Past Violence reference, Soft Ben, Fluff,  Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.
Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
Additional Warning: Soldier Boy is again, super OC and fluffy in this chapter. If you do not like that, you probably shouldn't read this?
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Guide
Rosemary's Phone
Reader's Phone
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You sigh softly as you wake, the light from under your curtains illuminates your bedroom and sends a warm glow over your bed. You had never been a morning person. The only motivation you ever had to get out of bed was the hope of a cup of strong coffee waiting for you in the kitchen. But as you lay there, mind still a little cloudy from sleep you can't help but think that something feels different, that you've forgotten something important.
Maybe a shower will make me remember.
Instinctively you start to move towards the edge of your bed to get up, but something heavy tightens its grip around your chest making it impossible to move from its embrace.
What?
“Where are you going?” Ben’s voice is slurred and muffled against the pillow behind you.
The events of the night before begin to surface from the sweet haze of sleep, Ben showing up, you yelling at him, him bringing you lavender and saying everything you always wanted him to, and finally him holding you while you cried. You still weren’t sure that last part happened. That or Ben's ability to open his heart to you and tell you what he was feeling rather than reverting back into the cold attitude he adopted as Soldier Boy. In fact, you hadn't seen one shred of Soldier Boy yesterday, you'd only seen Ben, and deep down you hoped that you'd never see Soldier Boy ever again.
“Stay.” He murmurs, pulling your back into his muscular chest. “Please.”
His body is wrapped around yours, shielding you from your door, face buried in your hair, while one arm rests around your abdomen and the other is somewhere above your head bracing against the headboard. It feels natural and it makes anxiety electrify your veins.
Because what if he was going to leave again?
You turn your head to look over your shoulder.
Ben’s head is laying on the same pillow yours is, his eyes are closed, and his hair is falling forward into his peaceful face. Deep down another memory of this exact scenario surfaces, of you waking up before him when you were children and wishing that he wanted this as much as you did. Of course now he said he had wanted you the entire time time, and that he wasn’t going to leave, but deep down you dreaded what would happen when he opened his eyes.
Would he go cold again? Push me away? Say that he didn't mean any of it?
You try not to think that. You wanted him to mean all of it. You wanted him to fix it, to make it like it was before, make everything like the morning you woke up on his chest and he smiled down at you like you were everything he ever wanted. You wanted every day of your life to start that way, to be fused with wonder, love, and expectation. That morning you had woken up on his chest after your birthday, was one of the happiest memories you had, but what followed those few moments of happiness tore your heart out.
He said he wanted to fix this, that he wanted to be with me. You bite the inside of your cheek. He’s lied before. The thought fills you with dread.
“You’re thinking too much.” Ben sighs opening one green eye to stare at you. It’s a light green from sleep, but just as piercing as usual.
“I am not.”
Sometimes you though that Ben was psychic, because he was always able to read you, the same way that you always had been able to read him. Even when you were kids Ben was always able to tell what you were thinking, not to mention he always had a habit of showing up whenever you needed him.
Ben chuckles and opens his other eye. “I know you better than anyone else Sweetheart.”
“Maybe a little.” You admit.
“Hmm.”
You turn in his arms so you can look at his face and Ben adjusts his arm to drop over the curve of your hip, gently brushing his fingertips against you the base of your spine. But you don’t smile.
“What is it?” He whispers moving his face closer with a soft smile that tugs at something in your chest. “You can tell me.”
“You know.” You don't meet his eyes, the sour feeling in your chest growing with your confession as you level your gaze at his chin.
“Oh.” Ben's smile drops into a frown.
“It’s a little weird. That you’re here and you want to be-“
“I do.”
“I know. But I keep waiting for you to leave again, for you to push me away.” You hate that you have to say it out loud, but he might as well know what you're thinking. He needs to understand how much he hurt you and how worried you were about that. It was worse to keep it inside. That's what you had been doing for the better part of 40 years and now that it was all out in the open you did feel a little better, but it still hung on your heart. 
“I don’t want to leave you-"
“I know that. Or at least a part of me does. The other part…” You trail off.
Ben is quiet for a minute, before he brings his hand up to brush away the strands of your hair that have fallen into your eyes. “Do you still want me here?” His expression turns pained when he asks it, voice barely above a whisper.
You look at him, tracing the strong jaw you’d memorized, the unruly brown hair that you always wished to run you fingers through, the proud arch of his brow, and the gentle bow of his lips. “Yes.” You answer honestly. "I do."
Ben looks relieved. "Then I won't leave."
The weight of those words grounds you to this moment. He wants to be here. He doesn't want to go.
"How'd you sleep?" His right hand is still tracing your spine in smooth comforting circles over the back of your soft t-shirt.
"Good. Did you sleep?"
"Better than I have in forty years."
"I figured." You smile faintly. You allow your hands to rest on his chest, just over his heart between you so you can feel the steady beat against your fingertips. It solidified the fact that he was here with you. You stop the urge to trace your finger across his muscles, but instead focus on the warmth that soaks through his shirt into the palms of your hands. "Probably should get a little more sleep, those dark circles look like bruises." You trace the prominent purple marks that curve beneath his eyes.
You think about everything Ben told you about the lab that he was a prisoner in, all the experiments and torture he went through believing that he deserved it.
He didn't. You think to yourself as you search his face, noting again that Ben looks the same, but also different. I wonder if I'm the same way. Then again I didn't go through forty years of unrelenting torture in a Russian Lab.
The thought makes anger surge against your skin. When you were with Countess you had felt a little guilty about losing control, but now you reveled in it. She deserved more than what I did to her. If I had known what she did to Ben, I would have made it hurt.
You think about Noir, the TNT Twins, and MindStorm. You had been happy to lose touch with them after everything that happened with Ben, happy to leave behind the life you had when you were on Payback, but now you weren't sure. Ben telling you how they betrayed him made you reconsider your life in the shadows, made you reconsider turning your back on your powers. Because they deserved the same thing you did to Countess. 
"I was trying to, but somebody woke me up." Ben rolls his eyes at you, bringing you out of your thoughts of your teammates. "I remember you hating mornings as much as I do. Why are you awake?”
"I do hate mornings, but coffee makes them tolerable. Plus, I really need to take a shower."
"Oh good. I didn’t want to say anything but you really stink." Ben teases with a smirk.
"Wow." You scoff. "Big talk coming from the guy who smells like reefer, whiskey, and week old motel."
"You’re right I should probably take a shower too. But I’ll let you go first. Seems like the gentlemanly thing to do." Ben's smirk coupled with the mischievous glint in his eyes makes your heart warm. It was familiar in the best way. You didn't realize how much you missed it, how much you missed him. You'd tried to forget of course, how much you needed him in your life, how much you longed for him to be with you, and how much your friendship meant to you.
"Oh are you calling yourself a gentleman now? Because-"
“I am as much a gentleman as you are a lady and we both know that it’s a close tie.”
“Uh-huh sure.” You roll your eyes. "Maybe I would have been a lady if someone hadn't gotten me kicked out of the Dawson School For Girls."
"I never heard a thank you for that." Ben shrugs. His hand continues to circle at the base of your spine, his touch trailing warmth up your back. You weren't prepared for his touch to do the same thing to you that it did forty years ago.
It made you forget everything else, but him and it scared you. Because again you could feel yourself opening up to him, could feel yourself beginning to depend on him being there with you.
"I'll be sure to write you a thank you note."
“Hmm." Ben breathes. "Don’t use all the hot water.”
“Since this is my apartment and I pay for the water I feel that I should be entitled to use most of it.”
“Are you saying that I have to write you a check to take a shower?”
“Yep.”
“You’re fucking annoying.” Ben rolls his eyes at you playfully.
“I know. I’ve got forty years of sarcasm to make up for, so, might as well get used to it.” You smirk tapping him on the nose.
“I look forward to it.” Ben smiles back.
You try to get out of your bed again, but Ben tightens his grip on your waist pulling you back against his chest so that your faces are inches apart.
“Ben, I can't take a shower if you're holding me hostage." You joke pushing against his chest.
Ben leans his forehead against yours, making the next taunt vanish from your mind. “I missed you.”
You smile despite your mixed feelings over the two of you and the past forty years. It was hard to hold on to the fear of him pushing you away when he was holding you so close to him and gazing at you the same way he did the morning after he gave you everything you wanted.
“I missed you too.” You reply, gently smoothing a wrinkle in the front of his t-shirt.
It wasn’t a lie. You missed him more than life itself. Not just because you loved him, but because he was your best friend. He knew you inside and out, better than anyone else.
His gaze drops to your lips then flicks up to your eyes and you know what he wants but you're not ready.
“Ben-“ You breathe as he shifts his face closer. “I want to take this slow. I need us to take this slow.”
“I know.” He sighs, but then the edge of his mouth twitches. “That’s why I didn’t make a joke about saving hot water and taking a shower together.”
“Much appreciated.”
“Mhmm. It was difficult not to.” Ben pauses, his expression turns serious. “I’m going to make this right I promise. I’m going to fix this.” It wasn't the first time he'd said it, but it was nice to hear again.
The determination in his voice makes you hopeful. It made you understand that he wasn’t going to give up, even if that meant waiting for you to be ready. He was showing a considerable amount of restraint. The Soldier Boy version of Ben was not gentle or patient, but it made you feel special, as if it was only you that Ben reserved this part of himself for.
“I know.”
“I love you.” His hand comes to cup your cheek, bright green eyes searching yours earnestly.
“I love you too.”
Ben's thumb gently traces across your cheekbone. “Maybe don’t take a shower.”
“You said I stunk.” You reply with a snort, leaning your face into his touch.
“You don’t. I actually think you smell a little like me right now.”
“Oh great-“
It wasn’t that he smelled bad. Ben still smelled like his shampoo and aftershave, but there were a few other smells, all of which were stale, and ones that you attributed to the motel room Butcher made him stay in.
I can’t believe Butcher just left.
You hadn't asked Ben how he got him to leave or really why Butcher was so eager to help Ben get out of Russia.
“I like it. Plus that means you'd have to go and I don't want you to go yet." Ben’s voice softens.
Your eyes widen with his confession.
"Stay.” He whispers. The vulnerability in his eyes is back, striking you full on in the chest. You weren’t used to that, used to him being so open about wanting you, about wanting to be with you. Or really his want to do something so intimate without having sex.
"Okay." You relent and he pulls you closer.
 Your hands drift up into his hair before you can stop them, rustling through the chocolate strands, smiling as Ben sighs and presses his head into your right shoulder.
And as conflicted you are about all of this, it does something to you, makes a piece of yourself fit back together that you thought you lost long ago, because you saw that Ben was trying. He was making an effort to fix all of this. And you really hoped that he could.
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When you get out of the shower Ben isn't in your bedroom and the dread comes roaring back like an old enemy.
Did he leave?
The thought is immediate, followed by how empty your bedroom looks without him in it.
Shit. How can I be so dependable on him being in here already? Why am I doing this to myself again?
"Ben?" You say cautiously, shaking out your wet hair around your shoulders onto your soft t-shirt.
"Out here." Ben shouts from the kitchen.
The amount of relief you hear when he answers in his warm timbre again makes you anxious, because you hated how much your body responded to him and how quickly you had reinserted him into your life. It was like your heart wanted to break again.
You had opted to put the same clothes on that you had been wearing before because the sweatpants and t-shirt were preferable for a lazy morning and you weren't expecting to go anywhere today.
Well, not really. Then again I might have to go talk to Rosemary. How do I tell her that her dad is back and he showed up at my apartment? Or better yet, how do I tell her that he spent the night?
You press your lips together.
I mean I didn't sleep with him, but I did sleep with him and I don’t think she's going to be ecstatic that he's back in my life. Or our lives? Is she going to actually want him in her life?
You think about what Ben said about not leaving and his want to stay with you.
How am I going to explain any of this to her? She's just going to say that I forgave him and not listen to me. She's just so damn stubborn.
Another thought crosses your mind just as quickly.
How am I going to tell Ben that he’s a dad?
You had considered that exact question in the past, when you wondered what would have happened if Ben hadn’t died. If you would have told him that you were pregnant and if he would have even cared. Especially after everything he said that night and everything he did.
And now that he was back and said he didn’t want to leave, you weren’t sure how to tell him he was a dad. He was still trying to get used to living in the present, not to mention you were still trying to get used to him wanting to be there with you and the idea that he loved you.
But I can’t just avoid Rosemary. She needs to know this, needs to know that he’s back. Why is my life so complicated?
Ben's reply is followed by a loud crashing noise and some muffled curses, that draw you out of your thoughts about your daughter.
"Are you okay?" You run out of your bedroom into the hallway, but stop in shock just as you enter the edge of your living room. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Come on you stupid, fucking thing!" Ben shouts. He’s standing in your kitchen, holding your coffeemaker in a chokehold against his chest, and aggressively jabbing his finger against the digital interface.
“Wait stop! You’re going to break it! And I’ll never forgive you if you break Sully!” You rush over to where he's standing in your kitchen, taking the machine from him and placing it back on the counter. It looks okay, but not having coffee this morning was not an option for you. Not having coffee after the night you'd had meant that someone in the apartment was going to die and it wasn't going to be you.
“Sully?” Ben asks confused.
“The coffeemaker.” You begin to hook it up and type in the normal settings you use, before going to look through your cabinets for the bag of coffee grounds.
I know I still have some in here somewhere.
“You named your coffeemaker?”
“He looks like an Sully." You shrug as you look over at him with a smile.
You didn't tell him that it was Lou that named the coffeemaker after you watched Monster's Inc. with her and she imprinted on the closest blue object.
"And what are you doing?” You ask. The smell of the coffee grounds gives you a jolt of energy as you scoop out the correct amount for the machine.
Ben watches you go through the steps. “I wanted to make you coffee.”
The thought was surprising, given that Ben had never made you coffee, ever. Whenever he woke up at you apartment all those mornings you both either went for coffee at the café down the street, or you made coffee while Ben took a shower.
“It’s okay I’ll do it. It’s a little more high tech than what you’re used to.” You start to push him gently out of the way so you can reach the glass  decanter where it sits on the drying rack next to the sink.
“No.” He says firmly, refusing to budge. “I want to know how to make you coffee.”
“Why?”
“Because you love coffee and maybe one morning I’d like to- I don’t know- make you some or something?”
“Do you see yourself in my kitchen? Because that’s something I’d never imagine-“ You try to think of him walking around, making breakfast or dinner but the image doesn’t fit. Ben didn’t know how to cook, not to mention his usual misogynistic attitude usually meant that he never set foot in the kitchen except to find a bottle of booze.
He crosses his arms over his chest defiantly. “Well this is where I live. I imagine that I’d be in the kitchen at some point.”
You freeze, your hand still pressed against his bicep from when you tried to move him out of the way.
“What?” Ben realizes what he’s said. “Oh- um- I know you want to take things slow, but I figured I could just sleep on the couch. I didn’t need to sleep in bed with you like last night. I-“ He scrunches up his face, unsure. “I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t going to leave you again and I thought I might as well be living here. But if I assumed wrong I can get an apartment if that makes you more comfortable. I mean I didn’t  use the one I had forty years ago, I spent most of my time at your apartment with you and I kinda thought-well-“ He’s watching you with wide eyes. “Fuck. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have assumed-“
Ben was blabbering, nervous despite his inability to admit it, afraid in his own way that you were going to reject him, think him less of a man for revealing how much he wanted you to be in his life. And it does something to you, understanding that you're not the only one who's afraid of what comes next.
You smile at his obvious discomfort, heart clenching to see how much he wants to stay, and recognize how much you don't want him to go. How despite everything, you want him to stay here with you, and that you don't want him to live somewhere else. Because living somewhere else means that you wouldn't wake up in his arms and you wouldn't see his sleepy smile when he first opened his eyes.
You hug him around the waist and tuck your face into the hollow of his throat. “You can live here Ben.” You say, your voice no more than a murmur.
“Are you sure? I know that you don’t want to rush things. You want to take this slow and I understand how important that is to you.“ Ben's hands come up around you to hold you closer to him.
“Kinda hard for you to fix things if you’re living somewhere across town.” You mutter into his shirt, nuzzling your face into the soft fabric. “Plus I like the idea of you bringing me coffee in the morning.”
“And I like the idea of living with you.” He whispers into the top of your head. “So does that mean I’m entitled to hot water?”
“We can discuss terms later. Right now I really need some coffee.”  You place you chin on his chest and look up into his deep green eyes.
“So you’ll take payment in the form of coffee?” Ben's smile is contagious.
“Perhaps.”
Ten minutes later Sully is buzzing pleasantly as it brews, glinting  blue in the light that streams through the large windows on the opposite side of your apartment, and Ben knows how to use it without swearing and breaking it in half. 
He drifts over to the part of your living room that serves as your art studio, examining the canvases splashed with color and the half-full sketchbooks on the large wooden table pressed under the windows. It was messier over there than  the rest of your apartment, but you thrived on the mess, thrived on the chaos of art supplies that were scattered over the table top like multicolored fish.
“I followed your advice.” You smile leaning against the counter to watch him. “Started selling my art. It’s selling pretty well. Has been for a while.”
It was still weird that he was here in your apartment. Each time you looked up and saw him, you were surprised, but at the same time there was something deep down that was happy to see him there, dressed in normal clothes. Waking up next to him and having him make you coffee was the domestic relationship you had wanted with him so long ago. It was what you used to imagine when you were curled up on your couch in your old apartment downtown.
“Of course it is. You’re talented.” He replies while flipping through your sketchpad, the flick of the pages drowned out by the bubbling of the coffee.
"I actually have a show coming up in a few weeks-" You weren't sure if you were still going to make enough pieces in time, especially given everything that was happening in your life with Ben or what would happen when you told Rosemary.
"Good." Ben glances up from the sketchpad. "I want to go."
"I'd like that." You blush under his gaze before your eyes drift back to the box of letters smiling faintly.  “I still can’t believe you kept them.”
“Got kicked out of boarding school number nine because of them.”
“I thought you got kicked out because  you were in a fight.” You raise an eyebrow. “You never told me why.”
“Because someone stole the letters and read them out loud in the cafeteria.”
“You’re kidding!” You snort.
“No.”
“So he exposed you for being a simp and your immediate reaction was to fight him in the cafeteria?” Your fingertips brush over the faded script on the sheets of paper.
“Being a what?” Ben looks confused as he walks slowly towards you.
“Oh right.” You press your lips together to think of a way to explain it without insulting him. “It means being head over heels for someone.” It was a bit of a stretch but he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t need to know that the meaning was closer to something Ben would ascribe to being a pussy.
“I am.” His hands go on the counter around you pinning you between the metal and his muscular chest, looking down with so much love and care in his eyes that it makes you dizzy.
It was jarring. How could he flip the switch so easily? How could he be so open now to me and not be like this before?
You think about the moments you spent in bed together 40 years ago, the look in his eyes the perfect morning, how he held you like he never wanted you to let him go and you didn’t want him to.
“Are you now?”
“Mhmm.” Ben tilts his head down towards your forehead, but just before it rests against yours,  your phone buzzes where you left it on the counter the night before, drawing your eyes to the illuminated screen.
“What is that?” Ben asks. You gently push him away to pick up the phone that continues to vibrate.
“Shit.” You mutter to yourself. You had ten missed calls from Rosemary not to mention a barrage of texts that each got more and more unhinged as they were delivered.
Rosemary: Hey.    Rosemary: Did you land? Rosemary: Mom? Rosemary: HELLO?     Rosemary: Mom are you in trouble? Rosemary: MOM.   Rosemary: Please you’re scaring me. Rosemary: Pick up the phone. Rosemary: PICK UP THE PHONE Rosemary: PICK  Rosemary: UP Rosemary: THE Rosemary: PHONE Rosemary: If you don’t pick up I’m going to buy a plane ticket. Rosemary: I bought a plane ticket. Rosemary: I’m packing a bag- Rosemary: I’m calling Lou’s babysitter. Rosemary: I’m scheduling an Uber!
Rosemary: Alright to whoever  has my mom’s fucking phone, I’m coming and when I get there she better be okay. Because if she’s not, there will be nowhere for you to hide.
You tap out a quick message to sate her ridiculous descent into madness, before thinking of what you need to say next.
You: Rosie it’s okay. I’m fine!
She Immediately texts back.
Rosemary: What’s the safe word?
You: Pineapple.
Rosemary: What’s the second safe word?
Your fingertips hover over the screen as you try to remember if Rosemary had decided a second word that gave the all clear, but you can't remember one.
You: We don’t have a second safe word?
Rosemary: I know I was testing you. Where the hell did you go? Why didn’t you text me? I thought the plane was supposed to land early this morning?
You: My plans changed I didn’t have to go to Russia. I’ll tell you later. Lots happened and I need to work a few things out.
Rosemary: What happened? Did you find out he wasn’t there?
You: No I didn’t need to go.
You stop typing to try and think of a way to phrase that her father showed up out of the blue and slept over.
Well he didn't sleep over, sleep over, but he did stay in my bed with me and… she's going to kill me.
Rosemary: Because?
Rosemary: BECAUSE?
You: He kinda showed up here.
Rosemary: HE WHAT?
You: He showed up at my apartment.
Rosemary: Are you okay? DID HE HURT YOU? ILL BE THERE IN TEN MINUTES-
You: No he didn’t hurt me. I promise. All we did was talk. If anything I hurt him.
Rosemary: Good.
You watch the three dots flicker across the screen of your phone to signify that she is responding, waiting with your heartbeat thundering in your ears.
Rosemary: Is he still there?
You: Yes.
Rosemary: Do you need me to come over?
You: No. He’s been through a lot. The last thing he needs is for you to show up guns blazing. I haven’t told him about you or Lou yet-
Rosemary: You fucking forgave him didn’t you? WHY?!!
You: I didn’t forgive him. It’s complicated-
Rosemary: What happened to just slapping him around a bit then telling him to fuck off? That was a good plan. I LOVED THAT PLAN!
You: Well I did tell him to fuck off but it got more complicated.
Rosemary: OH MY FUCKING G-
“Hey you okay?” Ben’s voice jars you from the barrage of messages on your phone. His gaze is leveled on your face, noting the worried frown that pulls at your lips.
“Yeah. Sorry someone was texting me-“ You try to wave him off, afraid that he can see the texts on the screen of your phone.
I don't want him to find out this way. Not by glancing over my shoulder and seeing the manic, overprotective texts from our daughter.
“They were what?” He looks down at the phone in your hand confused, but you lock the screen.
“Oh right. Sorry I forgot that you’ve  been living under a rock the past forty years. It’s kinda like sending a message, instantaneously so you can talk to someone else.”
You really didn't feel like explaining texting and Wi-fi at the moment with him. You were too worried about the introduction between Ben and Rosemary that was looming over you like a guillotine.
But he still looks confused.
“I’ll get you a phone, don’t worry.”
There's so much he's missed.
Your phone buzzes in your hand and you know it’s Rosemary.
She's not going to give up.
Ben looks down at it again curious. “Sounds like someone’s trying to get ahold of you.”
“She can wait.”
“She?”
“Friend of mine.” You answer quickly.
Ben raises an eyebrow. “I can tell when you’re lying.”
“I know.”
The phone buzzes again and you sigh, knowing that the longer you ignore her, the worse it will be. And the last thing you needed was for Rosemary to show up and kick down the door of your apartment with Lou in tow.
“Impatient isn’t she?” Ben comments, noting how the phone continues to vibrate.
“Yeah she is. She’s also incredibly stubborn.”
“Huh sounds like someone I know.” The edge of his mouth quirks in a familiar smile that makes you wish that you had the courage to tell him.
“You have no idea.”
“So?”
“So?”
“Are you going to answer her?”
“I should.” You press your lips together trying to think of a way to bring this up. “Ben I have to tell you something.”
“What?” He brushes back your hair, tenderly stroking his finger along your skin and trailing warmth with his caress. It distracts you for a moment.
“Well after that night we spent together I-um- I stopped being a hero.”
How the fuck do I say this?
“Yes I assumed that given what we talked about at the premiere.” He frowns remembering that night.
“And it wasn’t just because I wanted to leave it was because-um- well, I was different.”
How is he going to react? Is he going to be happy? Angry? Upset that we weren't more careful?
“Sweetheart I know you’re different, that’s why I love you.” He’s watching you softly, eyes a light green, filled with more love than you can comprehend.
It makes it difficult to find your words.
“No not like that I was, well, there’s no easy way to say this.” You pause and take Ben’s hand, raising your eyes to his and stroking your thumb over the warm skin. “I left because I was pre-“
Butcher kicks open the front door of your apartment interrupting what you were going to say next. “Good morning lovebirds. Did you kiss and make up yet?” Butcher flashes a salacious grin, eyeing Ben and your close proximity.
“That’s none of your fucking business.” Ben snaps his eyes narrowed at the man standing in the doorway.
“Touchy.” Butcher raises his hands in a sarcastic surrender.
“Why are you here?” You ask turning to look at him.
Could he have chosen a WORSE time to come here? 
Hughie is loitering in the hall behind him as if deciding whether or not to come in. You couldn't blame him. The poor guy looked like a deer in the headlights yesterday when you threw Ben across the room.
Butcher walks into the kitchen straight for the coffeemaker not asking for permission before he pours himself a cup. “Well I found those TNT fucks that your boyfriend was looking for. Thought he’d want to pay them a visit.”
You turn to look at Ben surprised. “You’re going after the twins?”
Ben and you hadn’t spoken about his next move. He’d only talked about his plans to stay with you and hadn’t mentioned anything about going after your old team.
Not that you were against it. You weren't against making them pay for what they did to him. You weren't against making the remaining members wish that they hadn't sold Ben out. Of course, you hadn't said that to Ben. If anything you were going to give it a few days to get settled together before you brought it up. And you certainly weren't going to bring it up in front of Rosemary, who had been less than pleased when you killed Countess, and wouldn't approve of a bloody rampage all over New York. It definitely wouldn't make her like Ben any more than she already did.
"Yeah." Ben's expression darkens as his eyes flick from your face to Butcher. “Where are they?”
“A few hours outside New York. Brought your suit.”
You didn't like how eager Butcher was to help Ben and remember what Legend said about how Butcher liked killing supes. It made you anxious, because why would Butcher want to help Ben? Was it for the thrill of it? But the last thing you were going to do was leave Ben with a guy who likes killing supes.
Hughie holds up a plastic bag that must contain Ben’s old supe suit and you try not to shudder when you remember the last time you saw him wear it.
“I’ll be a minute.” Ben mutters to you squeezing your hand once before taking the bag and disappearing down the dark hallway towards your bedroom.
But you're not done talking about this with him and as you turn to follow, Hughie steps in front of you.
“Hey I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry."
“About what?” You ask confused.
What does he have to apologize for? He saw Ben and me yelling at each other and saw me throw him across the room. If anything I should be embarrassed about them hearing everything that I shouted at Ben yesterday.
“If I had known what happened between the two of you I would have tried harder to keep Butcher from bringing him here.” Hughie rubs the back of his neck and scrunches up his face sheepishly.
Again, what is he doing hanging around Butcher? Hughie seems to care about other people. And Butcher just seems like-
Your eyes skate to where Butcher is drinking from his cup of coffee unamused. And Butcher is just an asshole.
"It's okay. I'm glad you did. I've been holding on to some stuff for a really long time and Ben has been too. I’m glad that we got to talk things out.”
“So you're okay now?" Hughie raises an eyebrow. "He didn't-“ He pauses as if he's uncomfortable saying what comes next and you try to understand why.
“Didn't?” You ask confused.
“He's kinda rough I was worried that he would-“
He thought that Ben would hurt me.
“Ben might seem a little gruff, but not with me. He's never-“ You stop remembering the premiere and adjust your sentence. “He wouldn't hurt me. And if anything you saw that I can handle him pretty well.” You can't help, but smile and nod your head back towards the couch.
“Yeah. That was intense.” Hughie cracks a nervous smile.
“Yeah” You laugh awkwardly. “ I didn’t mean to lose my shit like that. I’m usually pretty good at controlling myself-"
“Is that what happened to Countess?” Butcher interrupts.
You blink at him surprised. “Yeah. She tried to kill me and she- she said a few things not worth repeating. I didn’t go there with the intention of killing her, I actually just wanted to talk but it got out of hand.”
"What exactly are your powers anyway? Vought's files said you were like him." Butcher nods his head in the direction of where Ben disappeared to.
"I am." The lie is easy. It was the secret that you kept for eighty years, the secret that only Ben and Rosemary knew. Because you knew that particular power made you different than other supes. You had been disappointed to learn that Rosemary's power also made her different than the usual roster of other supe powers that you had encountered in your lifetime. And it made you worry about Lou. Rosemary and you were waiting for the day that Lou's powers manifested and you hoped that Lou didn't have any.
Butcher's eyes narrow like he doesn't believe you, but you shrug it off.
“But I’m going to go check on him so I’ll be right back.”
And you leave your kitchen before Butcher and Hughie can ask you anything else.
When you walk in through the door of your bedroom, Ben is changing into his suit. He’s wearing the dark pants, but the top half of his suit is aying on your bedspread, and that means that you can see every perfect indention of muscle on Ben’s torso. 
You'd seen him without a shirt before, obviously, many times, but each time it did the same thing. Again you curse him for looking this good after being trapped in a Russian lab for 40 years.
Did they let him work out there? Was the lab the same place Ivan Drago trained before he faced Rocky? How is any of this fair?
Your cheeks warm and your heartbeat thuds loudly in your chest as you gaze at him, so you turn back to close the door behind you to clear your head.
"You also get me pretty excited when you take your shirt off Sweetheart." Ben smirks at you with a wink as he picks up the top half of his suit, sliding it on over his head, but his helmet is nowhere to be seen.
Guess he wasn't trying to hide anymore.
You stand there for a minute watching him. "Are you sure about Butcher?"
"What about him?"
"I don't know. I don't understand why he's helping you with all of this-"
Ben goes silent and he turns towards his toolbelt, gun, and knife on your bed.
"What did you promise him?" You take a step towards Ben, to catch his eye.
He doesn't answer immediately, instead he buckles his toolbelt around his waist. "He wants me to go after Homelander. He said that he would help me find what's left of our old team if I do."
"Homelander?" You sputter. "You're kidding right?"
"What? He looks like a pussy-"
You could see some of the macho version of Soldier Boy beginning to unfold from the man who stood in front of you and you didn't like it. It wasn't that you hated the protective side of Ben, the side that always made you feel safe, it was the other side, the side that beat others into submission after they had surrendered that you didn't like.
"Do you even know anything about him?"
Honestly you didn't know too much about Homelander either, just that he was Vought's new golden boy and seemed incredibly shallow, not to mention each time you saw an interview or a picture it unnerved you.
Homelander's eyes were cold, lifeless, and empty. Each time he smiled you could see a glimmer of something dark behind them.  You had seen it before, seen it in the eyes of supes like Liberty who believed that nothing could stop them, supes who believed that they were gods and everyone else was below them.
"Doesn't matter. Butcher thinks that whatever the fuck is in my chest will wipe him out."
"And you believe him?"
"Maybe-"
"Ben."
"What? You don't think I'm strong enough to take him?" His entire body turns back to look at you, something dark lurking behind his eyes that reminds you of the day you stood between him and Noir.
"That's not what I said. It's not about being strong enough to kill Homelander, it's about you trusting Butcher. You don't know anything about him and he's using you to live out his fantasy of killing Homelander. Legend told me that Butcher has this thing about killing supes and he has a bone to pick with Homelander because he did something to Butcher's wife."
"So?"
You shake your head in frustration, trying to get Ben to understand what you were saying. "Ben please, listen to me. I don't care about Homelander, I don't care about Butcher, I care about you-"
Going after Homelander was crazy. The one thing you knew about him, was how Vought continued to stress how indestructible he was, the exact same thing they had said about Ben and you. But leaving Ben with Butcher was crazier. Butcher didn't give a damn about Ben, he was just using him to do the one thing that he couldn't do himself.
"I know that." Ben sighs. "I care about you too."
"And I don't think it's a good idea for you to be doing everything he says-"
"I'm not doing everything he says. We have a deal. And if this is about you being upset with me going after our team, you can't talk me out of it."
“No Ben-“
“Fuck whatever Butcher says about Homelander. I have to do this.” Ben's jaw tightens, eyes flashing with anger as he remembers what happened in Nicaragua.
“Ben-“
“You weren’t there when it happened. You don't understand what they did to me, what it was like to be in that fucking lab! And I’m not going to let those incestuous fucks get away with it.” His teeth grind down together. "I'm not going to let any of them get away with it."
The air in your bedroom begins to get unnaturally warm, a orangish tinge beginning to peak through Ben's suit as his new power begins to manifest.
“Ben!” You shout, stepping towards him and laying your hands against his chest to snap him out of it. Your hands burn as they press against his suit, but you don’t let go of him.
He blinks a few times, gaining control, the brightness fading as he does so, but you don't drop your hands from over his heart.
“What?”
“I know.” You say gently.
“Huh?”
“I know you have to do this and I’m not going to try and stop you from going after our team. They deserve to pay for it. I was going to say that I’m going with you.”
“No.” His answer is immediate.
“What?”
“No.”
“What happened to not wanting to leave me?”
“I don’t want to leave you. But I have to, just for a few hours. I’ll come back I promise-“ Ben's hand falls on your waist, right where your shirt meets the top of your sweatpants, allowing you to feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric.
“No. The last time I let you go alone Countess told me you died and then you got taken away to Russia. I'm not letting you go alone."
The fear of him getting taken all over again squeezes your heart in your chest, because yes, maybe Butcher wanted Ben to go after Homelander, but what would Butcher do when Ben finished the job? Would he send him back to Russia? You weren't going to sit around and find out, you were going to make sure no one did that to Ben ever again. And if that meant him not leaving your sight, you were okay with that.
Ben continues to frown at you, before an odd look crosses his face. "Did you kill her?"
"Yes." You chew the inside of your cheek. "I didn't mean to, she said a few things and she killed me-"
“She killed you?” Ben growls and he begins to lift the bottom of your shirt to find the scar forgetting himself, but you drop your hand over his to stop him.
“It doesn’t matter. She’s dead now.”
She might be dead, but what she said rings in your ears and the proud smile Countess had flashes through your mind. The triumphant look on her face after she told you why she had sex with Ben. The same look that was on her face, before you ripped her head off.
"What did she say?" Ben asks, but then he realizes after the question passes through his lips, noting your expression and remembering what you yelled at him yesterday. "Sweetheart-“
"It's okay-" You shake your head to dissipate the memory of Countess.
“No it isn’t.” Ben's hand cups your face. “What she said wasn’t true. That night meant everything to me. It wasn’t a mistake and it wasn’t disappointing in any way. Believe me.” His thumb brushes against your cheek and you lean into his touch.
“I do. I shouldn't have let what she said get to me and I shouldn’t have believed her. I can't remember the last time I lost control. I hadn't used my powers in a while-"
"Which is why you shouldn’t come."
“I don’t want you to get taken or hurt." Your hand comes up to hold his hand against your cheek.
Ben rolls his eyes at you, cracking a smile. "I won't get hurt."
"It doesn't matter what you say. I'm going."
His smile drops. “No.”
You really couldn't figure out why Ben was doing this. You both had powers and you trained together. You had been on "missions" for Vought before, and before everything happened, you were going to be in Nicaragua with him. So why was this any different?
“Why not?  I’m just as strong as you. I’m just as indestructible-“
Ben pulls his hand from your face. “But you’re not indestructible! You die."
"I come back-"
"Have you thought that maybe I don't want you to come because I hate watching you die?" He snaps angrily.
"What?"
"Do you have any idea what that’s like for me?" He shouts eyes blazing through the soft light in the bedroom. “Hearing your heartbeat stop, watching you take your last breath, knowing that there’s absolutely nothing I can do?”
Whatever thoughts or words you were going to say shrivel up on the tip of your tongue. You'd never thought about it like that before. You'd thought that your ability to come back to life after would have reassured him.
He knows what my powers are. He knows what I can do-
"I hate feeling fucking helpless and every time you get hurt I’m reminded that I can’t help you! That I’m not strong enough to protect you!” He sits down on your bed, hands clenching into fists where they rest on his thighs.
"Ben-"
“When you came with me I promised that I would be strong for both of us, that I would always protect you and every time you die it just makes me feel like I’ve failed!” His gaze is leveled at you feet.
You inhale sharply with his confession. It was what he promised you the night he told you to say no to Howard, the night that you thought he was asking you in his own way to marry him. You could remember the promise, remember the way he held you close to him, eyes wide and vulnerable when he spoke it to you. That night anything had seemed possible. And despite everything that happened with Countess, Ben had never broken that promise to you. He had protected you, he had been strong for you when you needed him to be.
You remember the night of your brother's funeral when he drove all night to be there for you, and how he continued to show up in your life when you were having a hard time as if he seemed to know when you needed him the most.
"Ben-” You try again, this time a little softer.
"Do you have any idea what it’s like to exist in those thirteen fucking seconds wondering if you’re going to come back or not? If that’s the last time I’ll ever see you smile? If you’ll ever open your eyes and look at me ever again?" This time he raises his green eyes to yours and you see a lifetime of emotion reflected in them. It's the same look he had when you woke up after you took a bullet for him and died for the first time. He had yelled at you for it, told you never to do it again, shouted that he could take care of himself and he didn't need you to protect him.
And you suddenly understand, you understand why Ben knew it was thirteen seconds, why he was the first one to ever tell you that it was thirteen seconds. Because each time he counted hoping that you would come back to him.
He doesn’t say anything just continues to sit on the end of the bed, dropping his eyes to the floor again, and wringing his hands together.
You sit down next to him, the bed dipping beneath you, and reach for his hands, but Ben has other plans. He grabs your waist and pulls you up into his lap so you're straddling his thighs. You don't have time to be shocked, because Ben presses his face into your neck and brings both of his arms around your torso to hold you to him. Deep down you know that this is the opposite of taking it slow, but you can't bring yourself to push him away. Because again he was showing the vulnerable side of himself that made you want to comfort him, the side of him that he hid from you for so long.
"You’ve seen me die before.” You breathe, running your hand up and down his back in a soothing motion.
“Doesn’t mean it gets any easier.” He mumbles and you feel his lips brush against the half moon shaped scar over your heart, a reminder of the bullet you took for him all those years ago.“I thought I lost you that day.” Ben mutters into your shirt. “I don’t know what I would have done if I had-“
“You didn’t.”
“But I could have. “I hated that you did it. That you were willing to die for me. You’re worth so much more than I am-"
“The fact that you think that means the opposite.” You run your fingers through his hair, feeling his arms tighten around your hips. “Your father may have made you believe that, but I don't. You’re not a failure Ben. And you could never disappoint me.”
“I already did.”
“Hey we’re moving past that. And I’m sure that I’ve disappointed you plenty.”
“Never.”
“I find that hard to believe.” You snort, and for a moment, you think Ben is going to look up at you and smile, but his face stays buried against your chest.
“Hmm.”
You wait for a moment, stroking your fingers through his hair. “How do you think I felt when they told me you were gone? That I’d never see you again?"
“You were angry at me-“
“That doesn’t mean I wasn’t devastated when they told me you died. I thought that the last thing I’d ever said to you was that you were like your dad and that I regretted having you in my life.”
That was something that you had to live with over the past forty years, because even though what Ben did hurt you, you hated that the last time you saw him was like that. You hated the thought that Ben died believing that you didn't care about him.
Maybe in some ways he did die believing that. All those years at that lab weren't easy for him.
 “I-“
“I swear if you say ‘I deserved it’  again I will kill you.” You say pulling his face up to yours and frowning at him.
“I won’t.”
"Good. Now are you done coming up with ridiculous reasons why I can't come with you to see our old friends? Because I'm genuinely curious to know if they're still pretending that they're not fucking."
Ben cracks a smile. "Yes. But only if you promise me that you'll stay behind me."
"Can't." You start to get off of him, but Ben tightens his grip preventing you from leaving.
"Why not?"
"Because I've never broken a promise to you and I'm not going to start now."
"I just don't want you to get hurt." Ben sighs.
"I know. And I don't want to lose you again." You press your forehead against his, threading your fingertips in his dark hair.
You weren't sure what it would do to you if you did lose him, if he walked out of your life or if he went by himself to face your old teammates and vanished. You had been destroyed when everything fell apart the first time, and you knew this time would be worse if it happened. You could feel it in every fiber of your being, just like somewhere deep down you could feel that what was happening now between him and you was different somehow, that it had changed, but not in a bad way.
"I don't want to lose you either Sweetheart. I love you."
"I love you too."
And when Butcher beats his fist against your bedroom door a few minutes later, you're still in his arms, allowing him to hold you close and allowing yourself to begin to trust him again.
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A/N: Sorry it took me a long time to get this one out! I had a hard time writing this chapter, and honestly it's still not my favorite, but big things are coming!!!
Thank you so much for reading!! If you'd like to be added to my taglist please let me know :)
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deleteddewewted · 11 months ago
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Toji Fushiguro Falls In Love With You
Toji x Gn! Reader
MDNI
W: NSFW, Unrequited Love, One-Sided, Mild OOC Toji, Unhealthy, Mean/Cruel Reader, Cheating, Married Toji, Mercenary Reader, Sorcerer Reader, Friends With Benefits (kinda)
Commissions: Open! (You can commission me on Ko-fi!)
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He knew what this new ache in his chest was. It was something that he typically felt, exclusively, for his wife. It was something that he felt when he found out she was expecting, something that only came when he knew he had gotten what he wanted and more.
Everyone else he had been with, all the women and the money that would come his way meant nothing to him at some point because he had his wife but then you came along. You were beautiful, fiery. You were violence and war all in one and it attracted him. He had a wife at home taking care of their newborn son and yet he was out here watching you slaughter curses, his cock hard and his mind wondering just how he'd convinced you to sleep with him.
He followed you around just to see what you would do. He learned your routine, committed it to memory, and followed you whenever he could. His wife suspected something was going on but she never confronted him about it. He wanted to feel bad for deceiving her but he couldn't. He wanted to feel you around him, your body enveloping him in your warmth as he filled you. He wanted you and nothing changed that.
So he convinced you to join him for a nightcap. You were both mercenaries, it was just to take off the edge of work. He didn't care where or what, as long as you let him have you he was content. And you let him. You're mouth was warm and your tongue lapped at his tip as he pressed you further down his length. The gargling, the gagging, the spit that drooled out of your mouth as you tried to take all of him made his heart race. You looked divine like this. On your knees and pleasuring him.
This repeated and became a monthly ordeal for the two of you. He would meet up with you once you finished your contract and he'd make sure to fuck you into the mattress of whatever dingy motel he could find for the night. He stopped being brutish with you too. He hated seeing the bruises on your skin from where he grabbed onto you, it made him feel disgusting. His precious gift. His lover. His everything.
You didn't reciprocate the affection though. To you, this was a stress reliever. Toji was just someone to fuck and forget. After all, he was bound to get a contract for you one day. God knew how long it would be until he was hunting you down. So you enjoyed it. You enjoy his body, rippled with muscles that he took full advantage of. You tamed him, made him docile and malleable. He was your toy to use and discard whenever you got tired of it. So when you found out he was married only after his wife died, you didn't know what to feel. There was a sense of disgust, this man had been tricking his spouse and he had been using you. He didn't even come completely clean about his wife until he explained that he had a son and that he would be too busy to see you.
You laughed at him. Was he stupid? Did he think you were going to play happy family with him after what he just confessed to you? you couldn't hold back the cackle that left you. You told him to get lost and never speak to you again.
His face fell. He thought you felt the same. That you'd want him. That you needed him the same way he needed you. Did you? You had to have felt something every time he left his mark on you. Every time he told you that he wanted you. That he loved you.
You stayed true to your word. You never spoke to him again. Not when he called you and you listened to him moan about how his new wife was nothing like you. How he wanted to be with you instead of the woman who gave him a second child. All of this pathetic bitching was over the phone and you listened to your amusement. You didn’t bother going to his funeral, didn’t see a point in mourning a man who wasn’t worth your time. You did wonder what became of his son
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an-idyllic-novelist · 11 months ago
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Alastor with gender-neutral!reader Christmas scenario
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warnings: established relationship, mentions of violence, ooc and fluff.
Inspiration came from @lbcreations-blog's holiday fic. The link will be here. Special thanks to @vikkirosko for giving me feedback on this segment before I posted it. Merry Christmas one and all! :)
Alastor could recall very little memories of the Christmases he had spent as a mortal. Time was a funny thing; it blurred, made your brain all fuzzy until all you can ever really remember are the people you had once loved. In the Radio Demon’s case, the honor of a preserved memory belonged to his mother. Recently though, someone else had been occupying his mind and creating new memories in Hell. You. His significant other. 
To celebrate the coming of the winter solstice and to bring some festive cheer to the Hazbin Hotel, Charlie thought it would be a wonderful idea to throw a little party in one of the ballrooms. Some decorations, good food and liquor, gifts. An ideal Christmas get-together, so to speak. You helped Vagatha with getting the supplies needed, and he just watched all of this chaos happen, occasionally helping when the princess absolutely insisted that he become involved. 
What caused the pleasant Christmas  jazz music around him to a screeching halt was the sight of a plant hanging over the archway leading to the main lobby coming from the elevators. And you were right underneath it, carrying a box of ornaments in your hands. Alastor definitely did not hang this up here, which only left two possible culprits: Charlie, or Angel Dust. Husk was busy minding the bar. Niffty is still in the kitchen preparing the food, and she knew much he despised being touched by anyone. 
Especially you. He told you as much in the early beginnings of your relationship, including how he would prefer to not engage in physical intimacy beyond hand holding because he did not like it. You always gave him a wide berth, respecting his personal space and being content with how things were, though sometimes…he knew you wanted just a little more. You just would not say it because you already knew he would refuse. 
In regards to this….scenario, everyone’s eyes were on him and you. Half-expecting him to give in and just give you a kiss on the cheek, or for you to take initiative and do the deed and be placed on his dinner menu. Neither of which actually happened. Alastor was fully ready to step away and forget about the entire thing until you smiled sheepishly, bowing to him and extending your hand to him.
“Care to dance?”
He felt the tension evaporate from his shoulders, replaced with a chipper tune and a round of applause from the audience. “Why, I’d be delighted, my dear!” Carefully lowering his gloved palm on top of yours, he pulled you to his body and swung you around to the trumpets of his shadows. His grin stretched as he watched you quickly catch onto the rhythm, laughing as he dipped you towards the ground, then back up and did a twirl. You spun around, breaking away from him and bowing to him with that lovely smile of yours. 
Oh, how lucky he is to have you, indeed~! 
Though if anyone were to try and kiss you under the mistletoe, he will remind them why he is in Hell.
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