#But I'm glad to see it turned out exactly how I would have imagined 😂

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 15: I Don't Know What You Did To Me!

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (IT'S TIME BABY!), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 22K (Hear Me Out... It's Wonderful)

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Denial, A little bit of self-deprecating thoughts, Jealousy, Anger, Rage, A WHOLE LOT OF SHOUTING, Stan Edgar Being A Jerk, Sexist comments, Illusions to Sex, Heavy Petting? Making Out (It's ABOUT time), Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from 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. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

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A/N: Alright, hear me out... I know this is a long one, but I got so excited and the sun was in my eyes, and I forgot where I parked my car and... well... I got tired of the cliffhangers. 😂 But seriously y'all I am SO excited 😉🥰

The apartment was cold and dark when you walked through the front door, but the plants called out to you, filling the silence of the early morning, rustling and turning towards you as you enter. The curtains on the windows in the living room were closed, but the sunlight that dripped beneath the fabric was sufficient to see that Ben wasn't there.

It had been exactly seven days since you'd walked out of this apartment with Ben beside you, arguing with him about finally letting you go to work, seven days since you'd killed your brother, and seven days since Ben had tried to call you and you hadn't answered.

You wished you had. The guilt stirred in the pit of your stomach from not picking up the phone and to remedy it, you'd tried to call Ben, but he hadn't picked up.

And before you could talk yourself out of it, you'd sent an awkward text with the one word that you could think to say:

"Hi."

I'm such an idiot.

You really didn't know what else to say, not after everything that had happened. Not to mention you didn't want to tell him how much you'd wanted him there with you, how you'd imagined him riding on the bus alongside you while the wooded forests quickly shifted into farmland. You didn't know how Ben would react to that, especially since you weren't sure how that seemed like a friend-thing and you still weren't sure why you wanted him with you when your entire life fell apart.

But Ben hadn't answered the text, and he hadn't tried to call you again, which only made you feel worse for not answering his call a week ago.

You had been expecting him to at least try to call one more time or text you, but he hadn't, and there was a gaping hole inside that continued to open wider and wider with each passing day that you didn't speak to him.

He's probably out on a date or something. Has more important things to do than listen to my soap opera or help me pick up the pieces of my life.

It did still feel like it was in pieces. Everything you knew had changed within the course of a few hours, but you were glad to have your grandmother with you.

You had stayed with her instead of going back to NYC, allowing her to cook for you and soothe you the best she could with cups of tea and the love that she'd always had in abundance for you. It was still a little weird to think of her as a supe, but it was getting easier to swallow, and it felt like you were seeing her for the first time.

Since you'd talked about her time as a supe, she'd been opening up more about the past and you loved hearing all her stories. It also was making you see Ben in a new light. 

Your grandmother knew more about his childhood than Ben had ever mentioned to you. He never seemed to be forthcoming with any information about himself, but the things that she'd told you about his father and the way he treated Ben made your blood boil.

It made you want to raise his father from the dead just to put him back in the grave all over again.

Of course, knowing all of this now made you feel worse for not picking up his call. A part of you thought that it was odd that someone who was so concerned for you at the hospital after everything happened with Elijah had gone radio silent.

And it made a part of you worry about him. Yes, as your grandmother had put it, Ben was more indestructible than you were, but you couldn't deny the fact that you were worried about him.

But as much as the last seven days had been soothing, there were still some odd moments.

For example, you'd woken up earlier one morning and followed your nose into the kitchen where your grandmother was making breakfast only to hear her muttering "what a fucking idiot" under her breath. Weirder still was another time you'd come back from the bathroom only to hear her cursing while she aggressively knit something that looked like a sweater and heard her whisper "I'm going to kill him. Could I have been any clearer?"

You hadn't asked her what she meant, but you'd assumed she meant her next door neighbor Mr. Filbert who was about the same age as your grandmother and was the bane of her existence. Each day she would have a new complaint that made her march over there and yell at him about something.

Personally, you thought he liked it when she yelled at him. Not to mention every Christmas he always brought over a large bottle of Brandy, your grandmother's favorite, and she made a chess pie specifically for him at the annual Christmas party she threw.

Annie and you had been shipping them harder than the post office the week before Christmas for years, but nothing ever came of it. In fact, the two of you had a yearly bet to see if this was the year that Mr. Filbert would finally do something about it or if it would be your grandmother who stopped being so stubborn and blind to what was in front of her face.

You couldn't imagine being that way if you saw how much someone liked you or went out of their way to care for you.

But being at home for a week made you feel better.

Everything that happened was settling over you, the newfound strength of your powers, your connection to nature, and there was the other thing you'd noticed, but were afraid to think about.

The thing you realized after you stepped out of the creaky shower and looked at yourself in the mirror without being covered in dirt. 

At first you thought it was a trick of the light, but turning your face this way and that had confirmed it. The small wrinkles on the top of your forehead had faded, your laugh lines weren't as pronounced, and even the few gray hairs that you'd had since you pushed yourself too hard in high school and your first, and only, year of college, were gone. You were visibly younger and the only thing that you could think of that changed it was how you felt when you absorbed the energy of the plants. You remembered how it felt to absorb their life force, to have the energy flooding through your body taking away your pain, and healing what was broken. It felt like the best kind of high there was, your body melding with the tangled vines and unfurling leaves, feeling connected to everything in that shop while it made you whole again.

Standing there and looking at yourself, but not yourself in the mirror was weird and a little overwhelming.

There was also a part of you that didn't want to become an creepy old lady who sang to glowing flowers in the middle of the woods in the dead of night.

Annie had noticed it the moment that she'd seen you, and the two of you had discussed it over a Alien movie marathon, what it would be like if you could take the life of plants to make yourself younger and if it meant that you could live longer.

You figured that it was as good as true.

But to get back in tune with your powers you had sat outside in the back garden meditating. It seemed to work. Sitting out in the warmth of the day, with the breeze wicking the sweat at the back of your neck, the grass brushing against your worn jeans, and the call of nature all around you, it made you feel at peace for the first time in a long time.

It was nice to have a few moments to yourself, but that also meant that the thought of what came next seemed to hover over you. You knew that you had a long way to go before you fully got in control of your powers again, but you also knew that you couldn't hide in Illinois forever.

It felt like you were running from everything that happened, and you knew the longer you stayed away the harder it would be to go back to NYC, face the aftermath of Darren's death, and see Ben.

Although, he hadn't showed up, Annie had. She came on the second day and spent the next four days with you the same way the two of you spent your weekends growing up: with nostalgic movies, junk food, pizza, and copious amounts of wine, while bundled under plush blankets and pillows on the living room floor.

But the more days that passed when you were in Illinois, the more you were aware that something was missing, and now standing in your apartment you felt the same way.

Why?

Bean comes shooting out of your open bedroom and down the hallway in a frenzy, practically knocking into your ankles in his haste to brush his dark gray coat against your legs. He purrs loudly to get your attention, and you drop to your knees to pet him, staring into his luminous orange eyes.

"Hey Bean, did you miss me?" You smile at your cat, rubbing along the curve of his back the way you know he likes before you work your fingers under his chin.

The creature, now named "Rex" was perched on your shoulder like a bird of prey watching Bean with curiosity. The name was chosen due to how it looked like a T-rex with longer forearms whenever it stood up on it's back legs, but not from ferocity. He was a bit of a cuddler, more so than Bean. You also thought that Ben would appreciate the name given how much grief he'd given you when you told him your cat's name.

Bean glances up and hisses at Rex, who curls into your neck as if he's afraid.

"Oh, so you’re fine ripping someone apart, but you draw the line at meeting your brother?” You smile reaching up to scratch along his neck.

Annie had been terrified of him at first. She’d heard from Butcher exactly what he had done to Darren and was wary that Rex could grow into a maneater at any moment.

But Rex didn't seem to have man eating tendencies, at least now he didn't.

And when it came to Annie you figured that she was angrier that she hadn't gotten a shot at Darren.

She's waited a hell of a long time.

Bean narrows his eyes and raises his paw to swat at Rex, the claws scraping off his smooth leaf-like coat and leaving behind no damage. Rex cowers further into your neck.

"Stop acting like a jealous, only child." You chide the cat. "I love both of you the same way. And you've got to get along."

Bean makes a low noise in the back of his throat but leans into your hand asking for more rubs.

You indulge him for another minute, before looking up down the dark hallway. "Ben?"

The name echoes through the apartment, but Ben doesn't appear in the hallway.

I wonder where he is. Maybe he's at Butcher's.

You had spoken to Butcher once, who'd assured you that he, Frenchie, MM, and Hughie were cleaning everything up and that there wasn't anything for you to worry about.

You trusted Butcher to handle it. The last thing you wanted was to be unable to walk down the street because everyone was running for their lives and screaming while hoping you didn't unleash Rex on Manhattan.

One of the vines on the opposing wall flicks the light switch on, bathing your living room in artificial light. You pause, your hand frozen on Bean's back as you look over the living room and kitchen.

The apartment is spotless. There are no empty bottles of scotch, no half smoked blunts in the ashtray on the coffee table, no empty pizza boxes stacked next to your couch, and no dirty clothes and socks strewn around the room. In fact, there aren't any clothes at all or shoes.

Everything that belongs to Ben that was once scattered over your small living room is gone, leaving the room almost uncomfortably bare.

Is he doing laundry?

You strain your ears to hear the tell-tale sound of the sink or the shower in the bathroom, but don't hear anything.

Maybe he cleaned up because I was gone?

It seems a little out in left field, but you reason to yourself that Ben had tried to clean up while you were gone, just like he did when you got back from the hospital two weeks ago.

But as you walk down the hallway towards your bedroom you notice that the hall closet when Ben keeps his other things is empty. Every article of clothing, every shoe, every sock, and the small box of personal items that Ben had never let you see into was completely gone.

Something inside your chest begins to crack, you're not sure what, but all you know is that it doesn't feel good. There's an odd foreboding feeling that sends alarm bells off in your head.

Did he leave?

The thought is like a punch in the gut and your chest tightens, making it difficult to breathe.

Why would he leave without telling me?

You pull your phone out of your back pocket and scroll through to find Ben's number. This time you don't hesitate to hit the call button.

Each time it rings you can feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper into something that you can't describe. You didn't understand why he left, and why he wasn't here when you got back.

Was it because I didn't pick up the phone when he called? Was it because he finally figured that I wasn't going to sleep with him and he decided to leave?

He doesn't answer, but this time you leave him a voicemail.

"Hey Ben, it's me. I just got back to the apartment and all your stuff is gone, which means either we got robbed or you got kidnapped by your evil brother." You laugh awkwardly. "But I'm back in town so you should call me and let me know if your stuff should be here or whatever-um-" You clear your throat trying to keep your voice from shaking a little. "Just call me back okay?"

When the final beep sounds whatever it was you were feeling was lodged deep into the back of your throat and this time, as you look out over the pristine living room and kitchen you allow yourself to notice just how empty it looks without Ben in it.

"Babe!" Annie calls waving her hand from where she sits at one of the artisanal wrought iron tables at Calamity Coffee Co to catch your attention.

The inside of the shop was identical to the last time the two of you were here. There's still a collection of best-selling author's to be lining the wooden bar along the front windows, still a much too happy barista who grins when you walk through the door, and still a group of people sitting on the plush velvet couch talking about absolutely nothing at all while sipping colorful coffee mugs

It was surreal, as if the past two weeks hadn't happened and you were the same person that you were then.

Annie had left about two days before you came back to the city after she got a phone call from someone at Vought demanding that she come back for some "big emergency."

You still had no idea what the "big emergency" was, but you figured that you were about to find out. Annie hadn't been able to send you more than a handful of errant texts in which you planned this coffee shop meet.

Truthfully you weren't sure that you could share any of her enthusiasm or her excitement over what the "big emergency" was. You were still swimming in whatever the feeling was at Ben's sudden disappearance and his radio silence.

You'd thought that the feeling would have passed and tried to think about all the positives about him not living in your apartment would be, but the list was shorter than you expected, and the negatives were mounting higher with every passing minute since you'd called him and left the awkward voicemail. It was odd, especially after how hard you'd fought for him to not live with you, and how hard you'd tried to convince him that he didn’t want to live with you, but the feeling was still there.

Maybe he didn't move out and maybe he's been kidnapped and taken back to Russia!

That thought was distressing, but you thought that if Ben had been kidnapped your apartment would have looked like a train ran through it. Not to mention there wouldn't have been fresh water or fresh food laid out for Bean, almost as if Ben had been back to feed him.

But if he had voluntarily left, you still didn't understand why he had. You racked your brain trying to come up with something, some reason why Ben wouldn't be there, some little detail that you missed in the week that led up to the big explosion that was Darren's death and the destruction of "Please Don't Die," but you couldn't remember anything.

If anything, Ben and you were getting along better than you had in the days that lead up to it. He had been more attentive, had taken care of you in his own way, had sat with you on the couch and watched his ridiculously cheesy old films and pouted whenever you laughed at the lines he had delivered in all seriousness.

And the only reason you could come up with was that Ben genuinely didn't care about living with you or being around you as much as you thought he did and that he was tired of pretending to be a nicer person.

So basically, you were back to square one and you were trying to shake off the feelings that had started to bloom whenever you spent time with him and Ben acted like someone who you could love, someone that you could see yourself with. The same feelings that you had fought to push down and ignore because you didn't want to feel that way about someone like him.

The rays of the mid-day sun stream through the large windows catching the glints of gold in Annie's hair. The steam from her latte swirls and tangles out from her cup, crawling across the table to where the iced latte she ordered for you sits. The condensation has already started to drip down the plastic outside to the white napkin beneath, smudging the purple script of the coffee shop's name printed on the paper.

"Hey." You smile and embrace your friend.

It was good to see her again, but she looked more tired than usual. Her makeup was smudged beneath her eyes and her hair wasn't tied up in her usual high ponytail, but instead was thrown over her shoulders and finger combed.

"I missed you." She sighs into your shoulder. "Work is killing me. Ashley is going to be my thirteenth reason I swear." Annie rolls her eyes.

The wilted wildflowers in the center of the table perk up in your presence without you focusing on them.

"I missed you too." You reach into the front pocket of your overalls and extract Rex, who is now about the size of a coke can, and who crawls across the table to say hi to Annie.

She gently scratches under his little chin the way she knows he likes. "You're not going to eat me are you?"

"He already ate-"

Annie's eyes widen. "Not Bean!"

"Are you crazy? Do you think that I'd let him eat Bean? No. He had some cat food. Surprisingly he likes it so I guess that's what I'm gonna feed him and-"

"What is that thing?" A barista asks as he passes Annie and your table on the way back to the counter, toting a large tray of dirty mugs.

"Oh it's a-" You clear your throat thinking of something to call Rex. "It's an Aconitum Napellus." You reply saying the only name that could come to mind and hoping that the barista didn't know the scientific name for wolfsbane.

"Wow I've heard about those I think!" The barista replies leaning towards where Rex is stretching out in the sunlight on the tabletop. "Aren't they super rare?"

"Yep." Annie nods her head, the picture of seriousness. "My friend saved him from a guy who was practically part beast." She shoots you a wink, understanding exactly what Aconitum Napellus is.

"Can I pet him?" The barista's hand is already halfway to Rex, but you reach Rex first and pull him to you.

Honestly, you didn’t think that Rex would bite his finger off, but you didn't want to take that chance.

"Um. No. He's kind of finicky about other people." You laugh awkwardly.

"Bummer." The barista shrugs and walks back to the counter.

"You really think that it's a good idea bringing Godzilla out like that?" Annie takes a sip from the steaming cup in front of her.

"I don't think he's vicious unless I tell him to be." You look down at where Rex is curling into your arms. He's grown maybe another inch or two, but not enough to attract unwanted attention.

"And are you going to tell him to be?"

"Now?"

"I need to know, just in case I have to start running for my life."

"I'll keep you posted, just try not to piss me off today." You snort reaching for the latte on top of the table. "So, what was the 'big emergency.'"

"Oh my fuck! You're not going to believe this!" Annie leans across the table. "But it's kinda a big secret so you can't tell anyone, at least until not after tonight."

"Why tonight?"

"Because tonight is the big official announcement/celebration." She braces her elbow on the table and extends her pinky. "Special pinky swear me."

"Special pinky swear? What are we ten?" You roll your eyes at her.

The special pinky swear was the secret handshake that Annie and you had come up with when you were eight after Annie got kissed by Matthew Colson in second grade behind the giant oak tree in the schoolyard. The "special pinky swear" was only used in moments of complete seriousness. The same handshake had seen juicy secrets the two of you had shared over the years with no one else. When Annie lost her virginity to Drummer Boy, when the two of you got high in Esther Masterson's family cornfield, when you stole a bright red thong on a dare from Victoria's Secret, and when Newton and you had sex for the first time in the backseat of his dad's pickup truck senior year at Look Out Point. All of these moments had involved the "special pinky swear," so for her to bring it up, meant that this was big.

You hesitate. You don’t know why, but there's an odd feeling tugging in the back of your mind, almost as if you know what she's going to say before she says it.

"Babe." Annie wiggles her pinky over the table and you take it.

"Okay, what is it?"

She's still leaning on the table towards you, her blonde hair falling forward over her shoulders, and her eyes bright with her secret. "Ben is joining The Seven."

You sit there for a moment, her words not quite comprehending in your mind. And when it does, you feel the same tightness in your chest when you realized that all of Ben's stuff wasn't in your apartment anymore. You forget how to breathe, how to act normal, because you didn’t understand why Ben would do that, not after everything that happened with Payback.

"What?" You choke out.

"Honestly, I'm kind of surprised that he didn't tell you since the two of you are so close." She tilts her head to the side as if examining you for a minute.

"But why? Everything with Payback was so fucked up and that means he'd have to be around Stan again and-" You couldn’t finish the sentence, it felt like you were running out of air, a vice clamping down on your throat, because if Ben was going back to The Seven it meant that you'd probably never see him again.

Before the possibility of him being kidnapped or all his stuff being stolen meant that you'd run into him at least at some point, but this no way. You never saw anyone on The Seven save for Annie and that was because she still ran ops with Butcher and she was your best friend, but Ben and you were… nothing.

And standing in your apartment with all his things gone made that almost chillingly true. You and Ben were nothing more than roommates, and now he’d made that very clear by not telling you that he was moving out and taking another job. Nothing about that was the friendship that you thought the two of you were achieving.

Maybe it's a good thing, because I was beginning to feel things for him that I didn't want to and now he's gone I don't have to worry about it.

The thought didn't make you feel any better. Something inside felt like it was shriveling up and dying, something that you didn't know had grown and bloomed within you the moment Ben moved in.

"I know!" Annie exclaims. "But Hughie told me that while we were gone, Ben stormed into the apartment and confronted Butcher, said that he 'didn't feel appreciated' and that he was 'sick of all the bullshit' and that he was 'fucking done.' Hughie said that Butcher was pissed, but Ben must've gone to talk to Stan because they're officially announcing Ben or rather Soldier Boy's glorious return to Vought as the leader of The Seven."

"Wow the leader that's-" You swallow, voice hollow. "That's good for him."

"More than good. They're throwing him one of those ridiculous over the top parties tonight to celebrate and re-introduce him to the press." Annie takes another sip of her coffee, practically shaking with the excitement over the news. "And holy fucking shit!"

"What?" You breathe. Suddenly the room is spinning and you're not sure that you're getting enough air to your brain. You feel like you've been punched in the gut and at the same time feel like everything inside of you is spilling out.

You couldn't understand any of it, couldn't understand why it felt like Ben had broken up with you or why it felt like your heart was breaking, not over Ben of all people.

Why? I don't love him or like him. He's my friend or… I thought we were becoming friends.

"Stan is literally just falling at his feet. He's been busing in these slutty looking women that all go up to Ben's apartment, and you have no idea what I can sometimes hear through the walls. Those women are so loud."  Annie makes a disgusted face, and you could only imagine what she was hearing.

It was the reason why you hadn't let Ben bring women back to the apartment, because your walls were thin and you didn't want to be subject to hearing his live action porn shoots. You knew the exact kind of person that Ben was when he moved in with you, but the week you'd spent with him before you killed Darren was different. He was kinder, softer, more patient with you, and willing to help you. Not to mention overprotective because he didn't want you to leave the apartment or even lift a finger with your broken arm.

You think about how Ben hadn't been on a date that entire week, that he stayed at the apartment with you and how he didn't act like he saw the woman in the grocery store hitting on him. Your jaw tightens as you fight the urge to cry, not quite comprehending why you were feeling this way.

What did I expect? He's the same way he's always been. And maybe he really was pretending to be different around me so that I'd sleep with him. Ben is Ben he's…

You think about what your grandmother said to you, about Ben acting differently than the one she knew. How Ben cared for you at the apartment and in the hospital was so different than the person she'd been friends with in the 80's. But now you weren't sure.

I don't need him anyway. He was just my roommate and now I have the couch all to myself.

You think, but it doesn’t bring any comfort

Annie's eyes focus back on you. "Are you okay? You look a little pale."

"No actually I'm not feeling that great all of a sudden." It wasn't a lie, you felt like you were going to throw up with all the memories you had with Ben swirling around your head. You didn't understand why this was happening.

In the past Annie and you would have giggled and laughed about something like this, but you didn’t feel like laughing at all.

"Oh no. Was it the latte? I'll come with you-" She starts to get up, but you hold up one hand while using the other to put Rex into your front pocket again.

"No, it's okay. I've just got a headache, and I don't think I'm ready to be around so many people, after Darren, you know?" It was a lame excuse, but you knew that it was the only thing to say that would make Annie leave you alone. "I think I took it too fast or something."

"Oh. Okay." She looks at you sympathetically. "Well text me when you get home? I want to make sure that you're okay."

"I will. I love you Ann."

"Love you too babe."

You rush from the coffee shop, trying to put as much distance between everything Annie said and you, but it's still all there in your head making it spin.

Why did he just leave without saying anything? Why didn't he tell me that he was being offered a place on The Seven?

You think to yourself, gaze on the sidewalk as you go, following the cracks and the blackened lumps of gum that have been smooshed against the concrete.

And why the fuck do I care so much? It's his life, he can do whatever the fuck he wants to!

The flowers in the black circular bins outside the florist shop wither and die as you pass, spilling multicolored petals at your feet that you trample underfoot.

He never said that he wanted to be friends. It was me that said it at that ridiculous fundraiser. Me that told him countless times that I didn't want to sleep with him.

The trees that are planted sporadically along the sidewalk shed their leaves when you walk underneath.

And I don't want to sleep with him. I want a relationship, I want love, I don't want just a one-night stand with someone like Ben. I deserve more I-

The thoughts were the same ones that you told yourself whenever you felt yourself considering falling into bed with Ben. The ones that usually brought the memory of your parents dancing to "Gonna Sing You My Love Song" by candlelight in the kitchen when they looked at each other like there was no one else in the world. You wanted that kind of love so badly that you could feel it in your bones.

But this time when you think those thoughts, it's not your parents that appear, it's Ben and you sitting on the couch in your living room with him reading the newspaper and you reading a book.

Stop it. Ben doesn't want that. He's made it perfectly clear that he doesn't want a relationship. And I guess he doesn't want a friendship because he just up and left without telling me!

"Excuse me!" You hear a voice say followed by your name, but you ignore it, and continue down the sidewalk.

The tears were close to falling and you didn't fully understand what it was that you were feeling or why you were so upset about Ben leaving when it meant that you could get your apartment completely to yourself again.

"Excuse me!" The voice says again and this time someone grabs on to your left shoulder yanking you backward.

You'd only seen Ashley once.

The first time Annie invited you to Vought Tower to look at her ridiculous apartment, Ashley had made you sign an NDA before you did. What exactly she thought you’d see you weren’t sure. It wasn’t like you were as oblivious as everyone else to the way the heroes of The Seven acted when the cameras weren’t flashing.

But Ashley looks the same as she did the last time you saw her, thinning red hair, sharp black suit that's buttoned over her chest giving the illusion that she doesn't have anything on underneath, tacky necklaces, crimson lipstick, and just like last time, she's not looking at you. She's typing something furiously on her phone as if she couldn't be bothered to acknowledge your existence with her eyes.

You hated when people did that.

“Hi." Ashley says with false sweetness, drawing it out too long to be natural. "Can you get in the car please?” She asks, still not looking up from the phone in front of her and gesturing with her head towards a gigantic black SUV that idles on the curb. It's easily bigger than your grandmother's truck and has windows so dark you can't see into the backseat.

Probably something Vought gets custom done to hide what goes on with their fucking heroes.

“Why?” You ask.

Did she hear Annie tell me about Ben? Wow, she works fast, I’ll give her that.

Your gaze shifts to where your building is just a few steps down the sidewalk. You were thinking about ignoring her, and continuing to walk down the street, but a part of you was intrigued.

“I don’t have time for this, get in the car.” This time Ashley looks up from the phone with a forced smile.

It's the forced smile that makes you decide to keep walking. You were tired of people trying to manipulate you with false sweetness to get what they wanted.

“I heard you the first time. No.” You reply before turning to walk down the sidewalk.

She moves so fast that you'd think she was A-train, putting herself directly in your way.

Ashley lowers her voice to a whisper. You didn't know why she was doing that. "Look, if you don't get in the car it's my ass. And I'm not going to be fired because one of Soldier Boy's sluts is acting like a little bitch and refuses to get in the car."

One of Soldier Boy's sults? Soldier Boy’s SLUT?!

"I don't know where you're getting your information, but I am not one of his sluts." You spit.

"Well, the only people I've been picking up for him all damn week have been." Her mouth twitches up into a smirk. "So, the options are you either get in the fucking car or Javier is going to put you in the car." She gestures to the behemoth of a man sitting in the driver's seat of the SUV, who smirks at you.

"Oh, is he?"

"Yes."

All the emotions that you'd been feeling about Ben begin to reach a peak in your chest and something finally snaps. You didn't want to deal with any of this, all you wanted was to go home to your bed, and yet here Ashley was treating you like you were some weak-willed little girl who would do everything you were told. It's the same thing that Darren used to do with you, and like hell you were going to let anyone do that to you again.

"I’d love to see him try." Your eyes shift to bright green and the entire world begins to tremble. You could feel the trees that lined the streets turning to watch, the roots that pushed and tangled through new earth stirred beneath the streets and sidewalks, the flowers in the florist shop two doors down that had wilted and lost petals twist together and burst with new life before spilling out onto the sidewalks, and Rex who was sleeping soundlessly in the front pocket of your favorite overalls drops to the ground at your feet, snarling as he grows to the size of a microwave.

"Holy fuck!" Ashley shrieks and takes a step back from Rex who snaps his jaws at her feet. His pointed stick-like teeth now the length of a pencil, clicking together.

"You should be more careful who you threaten." You say, your voice lowering. The energy of nature around you was thrumming through your veins, electrified by your anger. "It might be the last thing you do."

Just as Rex takes another step towards Ashley, who is quickly running out of sidewalk, the backseat window rolls down, and you see Ben sitting there with an annoyed expression.

"Just get in the fucking car Petals." He says with a sigh.

Has he really been back there the whole time?

"Are you shitting me Ben?  You’ve been in the backseat this whole time? Why didn’t you get out to ask me to get into the car yourself?" You shout, eyes still a bright green.

I guess that's why she was whispering, didn’t want Ben to hear her call me one of his "sluts."

The thought made a surprising wave of anger and frustration crash over you when you remembered what Annie had said about Vought busing in women for Ben. You didn’t understand why you were upset; you knew the kind of person he was, knew that was what he went on dates to do, but for some reason the thought of him having a non-stop orgy at Vought tower after he had taken care of you and acted like a completely different person made you livid. It made you think again that he had just been putting on a big show to trick you into sleeping with him.

"That’s what that bitch is for!" He gestures to Ashley who is practically cowering against the car while Rex snarls between the two of you, now the size of a post office box.

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. "I can’t do this with you. I’m going inside."

“Wait.”

“I don’t want to wait Ben.” You reach down and scoop up Rex who shrinks in your arms back to the size of the coke can before he hisses at Ashley one last time. She looked like she was going to faint, but you didn't feel guilty.

"Are you really going to make me get out of the fucking car? Ben shouts above the sound of traffic.

Honestly, you really didn't feel like talking to him, not when you weren't sure why you were upset with him.

All he did was move on with his life. Why do I care so much about that? He was going to move out eventually and I didn't want him to live with me anyway. He was crashing on my couch; it wasn't a permanent situation and-

The thought of your couch makes an odd feeling rise in your chest for a second as the memory of him and you picking it out at IKEA come floating back. Despite how much Ben annoyed you, you’d had fun with him at IKEA trying out the different couches and getting coffee. It always surprised you how you could enjoy spending time with him, even when he annoyed you without end. But you had enjoyed yourself. Just as you'd enjoyed yourself when the two of you watched tv on the couch and when he walked with you to the shop and picked you up at the end of the day.

“You don’t have to get out of the car. I’m going inside.” You turn and walk away from where the SUV is idling on the curb, weaving through the foot traffic.

I don't want to talk to him. I just want to go into my apartment and forget everything Annie told me and forget that Ben doesn't live with me anymore.

“For fucks sake.” You hear Ben grumble under his breath when you turn away, but you don't stop walking. "Petals!"

You can see the glass double doors and brick steps that lead up into your apartment building up ahead, but even with how fast you're walking Ben catches you easily.

"Wait." Ben moves to block your path just as Ashley had.

He looks different than the last time you saw him standing in the street asking you to let him make sure you were okay and asking you to let him take you home. And if you were acknowledging it, Ben looked better than you remembered.

He's still wearing the same jeans and t-shirt combo, except now you can see that they're made of nicer material, designer, and he's wearing a large golden Rolex on his left hand that you're sure someone at Vought bought for him. Ben's dark hair isn't falling into his face, it's a little shorter, more controlled. You liked it better the other way, but you weren't going to admit that to yourself.

Even his beard is trimmed, and you wonder if Ashley got him a stylist and a hair/makeup team to spruce him up before his big debut.

Oh yeah. The debut he's making after he moved out of our apartment and didn't tell me, and after he's been fucking whatever comes across his path all week.

The thought makes your jaw clench together.

That's the way Ben is! He's been going through women since he got back from Russia. That's not new!

You thought it to make yourself feel better, but you can still feel the tightening in your chest that you'd been feeling since Annie told you the "big news" and you realized that Ben moved out.

Then why does it kind of hurt?

"What?" You sigh.

"I want to talk to you."

"About what?"

"Can you get in the fucking car first?"

"No. I don't want to get in the fucking car, nor do I know why I need to get in the car!"

"Because I want to talk to you!"

"And we can't do that here?"

"No!"

You cross your arms over your chest and refuse to budge. You knew that it would only annoy Ben that you were being stubborn, his stubbornness also drove you to the point of insanity as did his taunts, so the two of you were at a stalemate and you refused to give in.

"Fine." He seethes. "I'm joining The Seven."

“I heard. Congratulations. You’re getting everything you want." You clip.

“Just about.” He mumbles under his breath so low that you don’t think you heard him right.

"I don't see why that involves me."

"If you'd shut up and fucking listen to me for a minute I'll tell you!" He snaps.

"Don't tell me to shut up Ben! Who fucking disappears without so much as a note? Who up and leaves without telling their frie-," You clear your throat to change the word. "Their roommate that they're moving out!?"

"You didn’t want me to live with you!”

"Maybe at the beginning but-" Your cheeks redden for a second and something flashes through his eyes that you've never seen. "I mean, it's not that bad. And after everything I thought that you'd still be here when I got back."

"Well if I recall, you left without telling me where the fuck you were going and didn't pick up my damn phone call!"

"I called you back! And I texted you! It's not like I was completely radio silent!" You stamp your foot in frustration. "And why are you going back to Vought? They got your team to stab you in the back and took your genetic material to make a psychotic freak!"

"Because Stan Edgar called me and he said he wanted me to be the new leader of The Seven!"

"Oh please, you believe that guy? He only looks out for himself. If you trust him again, he's gonna give you another one-way ticket back to Russia."

"He's not going to fucking-"

"Yes he is! And if you thought things through instead of jumping in feet first, maybe you wouldn’t land into a pile of shit! Now if you'll excuse me. I have to do some laundry, but whoopdie fucking do! It seems like all your dreams are coming true." You try to step around him, but Ben shifts his body to block you.

"Just fucking listen to me." He snaps, green eyes flashing in the sunlight.

"What? What do you have to tell me that's so important you had that red-headed bitch try to shove me in an SUV for?"

"They're throwing me a damn party tonight and I want you to come with me." Ben shouts back at you, eyes blazing in anger.

Your mouth drops open. It was the last thing that you were expecting him to say. If anything, you thought that he was going to try to get you to come with him to Vought to make a pass at you, not invite you to probably one of the most exclusive events of the entire year.

"What?"

Ben still looks angry but uncrosses his arms from his chest. "I want you to come with me to the party."

You clear your throat to dissipate the shock, your anger coming back. "Why me? Why not any of those other women that Stan's been bringing to the tower for you?" You snap. “They certainly seem to be more your type. Probably look a lot more impressive than I do on your arm."

You hadn't seen them, but you could only imagine what they all looked like. Ben's matches on tinder he often bragged about and had shown you photos as if he needed to prove how attractive they were to someone else. Of course, then you'd told him to just stuff it in a tube sock like everyone else rather than risk the venereal disease.

"What did I tell you about saying shit like that about yourself in front of me?" He looks angry again.

You think back to the day the two of you shopped for a couch at IKEA and Ben had yelled at you for making a self-deprecating joke about being "useless."

An odd look crosses Ben's face for a split second when he realizes what he said, before he smirks to hide it. "Are you jealous Petals?"

"No."

"Because you're acting like you are." He smirks wider. "Kinda sounds like you've been having Annie spy on me for you."

"I didn’t have her spy on you! She can hear everything that you're doing, and she told me because we got coffee today and she wanted to tell me your oh so wonderful news. That you’re the leader of the Seven and that means you have an endless parade of women willing to fuck you.”

"All women are willing to fuck me Petals."

"Not me."

Something flashes through his eyes that you can't place.

You chew on the inside of your cheek for a minute, before you sigh. "Ben, I don't think that I should-"

"I want you to come with me because none of them are supes and I want you to understand what being a supe is supposed to look like." He interrupts, but it doesn't sound convincing enough.

"I don't think any of that is real or how it's supposed to be!"

"How would you know anything about it? This is the Seven. The most powerful supe team in the world-"

"Just because it's the most popular doesn't mean that it's the most powerful. And I'm not sure I want to be a part of this. My grandmother told me what it was like for her and-"

"But you've never experienced it!"

"Well, no."

"Exactly. So just come with me tonight."

"I don't know Ben. I'm not sure that I'm up for being around that many people after everything, you know? I-" You swallow. All the feelings of frustration, confusion, and anger were slowly dissipating, and it was leaving behind something you didn't want to think about. "I stayed in Illinois because I needed a few days to get away from all of this and I don’t think that I can rush into it all over again the day I get back." You could feel the memories of the day you killed Darren beginning to come surging back, followed by the realization of how out of control your powers could get.

Not to mention that standing here and looking at Ben was making the tightness in your chest worse.

Then Ben does something he never has, he reaches out and takes your hand. “Come on Petals, just one night.”

He was saying Petals in the soft way he had two weeks ago when he had been taking care of you after the hospital, and it made warmth pool in the pit of your stomach.

"But-"

"And I won't leave you alone at the party with any of those boring fucks. Or with that octopus fucker.” He interrupts, trying to convince you.

"One night?"

"Yes."

Your eyes drop to where he's holding your hand gently between the two of you. It was odd for him, especially because he'd never done that before, even when you had nightmares, Ben never held your hand like this. It was always an awkward cradle, but for him to fully entwine his fingertips with yours it between the two of you was shocking. You raise your gaze to his unblinking green eyes. "Do you promise?" You whisper.

"Yes. I promise, one night and if you hate it, I'll take you back to your shitty apartment building." Ben smiles as if it's a joke, but it stings a little bit.

It was the first time that Ben had ever referred to the apartment as just "yours." You'd gotten so accustomed to him calling it "our apartment" and to hear it that way made your chest tighten more. Maybe it was because it was settling in that Ben wasn't coming back, that he wasn't going to move back in or be a part of your life anymore.

"Okay. One night." You nod and let Ben lead you back to the car holding on to your hand.

Why is he doing this if he's been fucking his way through New York's female population this week? Why does he care so much that I be the one to go with him to this ridiculous party? Any one of those women would be ecstatic to go. And why is he holding my hand?

"Talk to her like that again and I’ll make sure that the next job you have is cleaning Stan Edgar’s fucking balls.” He growls to Ashley as he opens the door of the SUV for you.

And as you slide into the plush leather seats in the backseat, you begin to wonder exactly why Ben was so adamant about you "experiencing" what it was like to be a supe.

"So, what do you think?" Ben's voice echoes through the large living room/sitting room, vibrating against the floor to ceiling glass walls that stand at the back of the room and give a spectacular view of New York City that lays below Vought Tower.

From up here the rest of the world looks so small and out of focus, and you wonder if that's why so many supes lose their morals, because they're worshiped and put in places like this to look down on the people below.

Treat them like gods and that's what they'll think they are.

Annie's apartment at the tower was impressive, but Ben's is practically another planet. The entire place is filled with mid-century modern furniture, supple leather couches so soft it feels like you're sliding through butter, beautifully crafted wooden credenzas, and modern art pieces that you'd only ever seen prints of online.

The high lofted ceilings are so tall that you're sure the first three floors of your apartment building could fit inside, and there's an odd echo that follows everything Ben and you say. There is a tv so large it might as well be a billboard that sits on top of a wooden credenza and holds a speaker system that must be more expensive that a yearly car payment.  It looks so intricate that you're afraid to touch it, let alone breathe next to it. The entire room screams wealth and not one piece of it is homey. It feels like a museum, as if someone tried to create something that felt like a home, but it turned into a time capsule of a time everyone else forgot.

You wondered if Ben ever felt that way and that way why he was really joining The Seven. If it wasn't just because Stan Edgar called, but because Ben felt like the world had forgotten who he was and he needed to prove it to everyone.

If that were true, you didn’t like that he thought that way. Yes, Ben annoyed you, but you liked who he was when he was with you. He never seemed like an old fossil that someone decided to shove into a box at the back of the Smithsonian, you liked the way he was, didn't think that he needed to prove himself to anyone.

Ben is standing behind you, leaning against one of the dark wood walls with a smile. You didn't know why he cared so much about your opinion of where he lived, not if you were just coming here for the party and then going back home to your apartment.

Your mind stutters on the word "home," because it hadn't felt like home when you got there, and Ben wasn't there. You didn’t want to admit that to yourself, but you knew it was true.

"It’s big." You say half-heartedly.

The apartment only made you think that Ben wasn't going to be living with you, a concept that you were confused as to why you were still saddened by, especially now that he'd had ample time to say goodbye. Before you’d been angry that he’d left without a note, but now you felt like you should be okay with what was happening.

You weren’t.

"Mhmm. Like it should be. Oh, you should have seen the good old days Petals. All the apartments, the hotel rooms, the houses they rented for us were like this. Not to mention everyone doing whatever the fuck you asked without hesitation, bringing me exactly what I wanted without argument. Fuck it takes me back." Ben sighs at the memory. "That’s how it’s supposed to be when you’re a supe. Not all of this squatting in small apartments and taking 500 jobs because you can't make enough money."

"I kind of like my 500 jobs." You say. "I've learned how to do a lot of things, and most of them are kind of fun-"

"Come on Petals." Ben rolls off the wall to get closer to you. "You're a bad liar and you know it."

"Fine. I don't like all of them, but I really like  working at the senior center and at the plant shop-“

As soon as the words come out of your mouth, you're reminded of exactly why you're not working in the shop anymore and everything that happened with Darren. You hadn't called Jake yet or texted him. Again, you didn’t know what to say.

Honestly, you didn't even know if he was alive and the thought that you'd killed your friend hurt you.

"He's okay." Ben murmurs quietly anticipating what you’re thinking. "Saw someone helping him from the rubble before I got out of there."

"Good. I was worried that I-." You let out a breath and shake your head feeling relief stir in the pit of your stomach. “I didn’t mean to lost control like that and I-“

“You don’t have to apologize for anything. That asshole deserved it.” You can hear the anger begin to drip into Ben’s voice.

“I know.” You look around the room again at the fancy furniture and high ceilings to distract yourself. "This apartment is definitely big enough to manspread in. But it seems kind of empty though for one person."

"What?"

"I just mean- all this space.” You gesture to the vaulted ceilings. “What person needs this much space? At least in my one bedroom it’s a bit cozier.”

“You don’t like it?” For a second you think that he looks disappointed, but you think you imagined it.

“Nope. Not really my style.”  You walk through the large living room exploring the apartment with Ben following behind you.

And you miss the way his shoulders slump just a little and the frown that pulls at the end of his mouth.

The bedroom is bigger than your whole apartment, with a giant four poster bed made of dark wood swaddled in gold and black bedding. The floors are made of black marble and there’s a giant fireplace that is so wide that a city bus could drive through no problem. The view out the floor to ceiling windows is even more breathtaking than the one in the living room.

“What no bearskin rug?” You snort at your joke, but for some reason it doesn’t make you smile.

All you're aware of is how weird this is, that Ben wanted you to come here and show you the way you "should" be living as a supe, and weirder still it was almost as if he wanted you to like his apartment.

Since when does Ben care what I think?

“Do you want a bearskin rug?” Ben asks, not sensing your sarcasm. "Because I can tell that bitch to bring one in here."

“No I was just-“ You sigh, but stop talking when you notice something green on the bedside table.

There’s a small pothos plant sitting there, it’s vines dangling over the sides of the table towards the floor a shock of green in an otherwise black and gold room. Ben didn’t like plants as much as you did. You knew that.

“Why do you have a plant?”

“It’s-“ He pauses as if embarrassed. “For you.”

“But you didn’t know I was coming?” You look over your shoulder. “And I told you that I was only staying one night.”

“I know.” Ben shrugs. “I got it earlier just in case.”

“In case?”

“You decided that you wanted to be a part of The Seven, or I don’t fucking know, just live here at Vought Tower.” He sounds angry, but you don't let it get to you.

“Well if I wanted to be a part of The Seven wouldn’t I get my own apartment? And if I stayed here, where would I sleep Ben? There’s only one bed.”

He bought me a plant? Did he think that I was going to sleep in here with him? Did he think that I was going to sleep with him?

“I mean we’ve shared before and you didn’t seem opposed to it.” He smirks, but when he notices that you don’t smile, he frowns. “I can sleep on the couch. It’s almost as comfy as the one we picked out.”

“Oh.”

“And actually if you want I can have them bring that one here too-“

The thought of the couch the two of you had fitting in with any of these outrageous displays of wealth was laughable, but again it confused you, because Ben was acting like he wanted you to move out of your apartment and into this one with him. Which, given how you heard he spent his week seemed ridiculous.

This is so weird. I have no idea what’s going on.

"So, um-" Ben clears his throat awkwardly. "How are you?"

"What?" You turn around to look away from the bedroom that looks a little bit like it belongs in a supervillain's penthouse apartment.

"Well, I mean-" He clears his throat again. Ben looks like it's difficult for him to say what he's about to, as if it's difficult for him to carry on a normal conversation. "Diana said that you were having a hard time."

"You talked to my grandmother?"

"Once. Before Stan called."

"Oh." You bite your lip. "I mean finding out that my brother killed my parents and tried to kill me wasn't exactly a walk in the park. But-" You shrug. "I'm dealing with it."

Ben nods as if he's unsure what to say. You noticed that when conversations got a little too personal Ben looked out of his element and you supposed that was what was happening right now. Sometimes it made you feel bad for him, as if he didn’t know how to act in a normal situation.

"Do I look different to you?" You blurt to clear out some of the awkward tension.

"What?"

"I mean, do I look younger? I thought that I was imagining things, but Annie pointed it out and I-"

"A little." He swallows.

"Great." You sigh.

"You don't want to look young?" Ben chuckles to himself. "Petals I swear every time you open that perfect mouth of yours you say the most outrageous shit I've ever heard."

"No, I mean I-" You wave your hand as if looking for the right words. "I guess I can make myself younger, but I don't think that I want to."

"Why not?"

"I mean if you live forever or longer than the average person you see everyone you love die. That doesn't exactly seem healthy."

"Not if the people you love don't die either." Ben says it quietly, almost to himself.

You snort. “My grandmother doesn’t live extra years, neither does Annie.” You hesitate to think of something that you never asked Ben. “Did you ever think about that?”

“Think about what?"

“When you and Countess were together. Didn’t you ever think about what would happen when she aged and you were well, you?”

Ben hesitates as if considering something. “Not really.”

“Why not?"

"You're full of questions today, Petals."

"And you're full of cryptic answers." You reply. "Come on Ben, you didn't think about that? I think that if I was with someone who didn't age that I would-"

"Someone like Jake you mean." Ben is frowning again, just as he always does whenever you bring him up.

"Why are you always so focused on him?"

"I'm not. Why are you so focused on Countess?"

"Stop answering my questions with a question!"

"I'm not!"

"You don't really have to worry about Jake. I think I blew my chances with him the minute that I destroyed his plant shop." You frown, reaching to touch the pothos plant that sits on the bedside table to get it to perk up.

Ben stands there for a minute watching you. "He's a fucking idiot if he lets that stand in the way of being with you."

Shock hits you like a bolt of lightning, and you turn to look at Ben, who suddenly looks very uncomfortable, as if he didn't mean to say that.

"Thanks."

He shrugs.

"And I think Countess was a fucking idiot and a Bitch for stabbing you in the back and making you love her."

"Thanks."

You shrug.

The odd silence is back, floating in the air between the two of you, something that you've never noticed before. You're not sure where it came from or what it's supposed to represent, but you wonder if Ben can feel it too.

“I-um- I’m sorry that I didn’t pick up the phone when you called. I didn’t know what to say.” You begin quietly. You wanted him to know that you had thought about picking it up, that you did want to talk to him.

“You don’t have to apologize for that Petals.”

“No I want to. And I’m sorry that I left you in the street like that. I should have stayed. I wanted-“ You stop talking, considering what you’re about to admit. “I wanted to stay with you.”

It seemed stupid to admit that out loud especially after you’d heard from Annie exactly what Ben had been doing all week, but you were so confused. You didn’t understand what you were feeling, didn’t understand why Ben asked you to come here, didn’t understand why he bought you a plant if you were only staying here for the party, and didn’t understand why you were so upset at the thought of going back home to your empty apartment.

Ben was confusing you again. He was being sweet and asking you how you were and he held your hand and he was genuinely asking you what you thought about the apartment and he bought you a plant to make you feel more at home. Not to mention he was acting as if the past week hadn’t happened, and it was still just the two of you back in your apartment.

And you could feel a cold chill of fear squishing your stomach into mush. You didn’t know what the fear was. Maybe it was because you were slowly realizing just how much you wanted Ben to be the man that he embraced when it was only the two of you. Maybe it was because you were realizing how much you liked being around him. Maybe it was because you were still cursing yourself because you didn’t want to fall for the wrong man. Or maybe it was because when Ben did things like this it was difficult for you to think that he was the wrong man.

He doesn’t want a relationship.

The thought doesn’t hold as much weight as it once did.

Ben’s hand gently touches the small of your back, turning you to look at him and making the thoughts evaporate. His green eyes search your face before he responds. “I wanted to come see you, but I thought you’d want to be left alone.”

“Why?”

“You didn’t want me to touch you in the street or check if you were okay and I wasn’t sure that I should-“ He clenches his jaw as if it’s difficult for him to admit this. “I didn’t think you wanted me there.”

“I did.” You whisper before you can stop yourself and his eyes widen in surprise. “Annie came to see me, but I wanted you. I-“

Ben gently traces your cheek with his rough fingertips, something warming in his gaze. The air between you is charging with electricity and you see his eyes dip to look at your mouth, before raising to your eyes once more. You know what he's silently asking you, and you want him to kiss you.

The memory of the two of you pressed against one another on your couch after the night Darren stayed in your apartment surfaces, the ghost of how it felt to be pressed against his body with your hands planted against the warm ridges of his muscles. You inhale a soft breath and it's full of Ben, enticing you forward, begging you to close the distance between the two of you.

Ben's thumb falls to the pillow of your lips, and they part in anticipation. Your body subconsciously moving closer to him so that your hands are resting against the soft fabric of his dark t-shirt. You can feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric soaking into the palms of your hands, a comfort in the chill of the marble covered room.

"I should have been there." He whispers. "But I-" Ben swallows, his voice no more than a murmur over the dull buzz of electricity that runs through the apartment.

The afternoon sun that shines through the glass windows behind you illuminates the flecks of gold in his eyes, making them a piercing green, and giving the illusion that they can see through you. Sometimes you thought that Ben noticed more about you than he was letting on, just as you noticed things about him that you were sure he tried to hide.

"It's okay." You murmur, leaning towards him, and letting your hands slowly move up the expanse of his chest.

“Sorry to interrupt.” A calm voice says from behind where Ben and you are standing.

The man standing in the doorway you'd, never seen in person, only on TV, but Stan Edgar is just as intimidating as he looks on the news. He's wearing a black pinstriped suit, a light blue shirt and a black tie. Not a piece of his outfit is out of shape. He looks calm and collected, not the frazzled out of control chaos that is Ashley when interacting with Ben.

And you hated him.

This was the man that had told Ben's team to stab him in the back and gave him to the Russians, and the man who gave Vogelbaum the okay to take Ben's genetic material and create Homelander. If Ben hadn't accepted the job with Stan, you probably would have ripped him to shreds.

Rex turns back from looking out the window and begins to skulk towards where Stan is, his beady black eyes narrowed up at the man. Stan looks down at the creature, who is about the size of a toaster now, in distaste.

“You don’t fucking knock?” Ben spits, turning around to face him, your hands falling from his chest.

“I did. I also called but you didn’t pick up your phone.” Stan says, undisturbed by Ben’s obvious anger. “Is she the new one that you made Ashley pick up?”

The new one?

His words settle in the pit of your stomach like an anchor making you remember exactly how Ben had spent his first week here at Vought. It made whatever the hell you'd just been feeling dissipate.

“Ashley was right, she certainly seems different than the others you’ve brought here. At least she’s wearing more clothes-“ Stan purses his lips looking you up and down. “Are you sure that you want her with you tonight? It is a big debut and-“

Stan was talking as if you weren’t there, as if what he was saying wasn’t insulting.

“What the fuck do you want?” Ben interrupts in a growl.

“We need to talk about how tonight is going to go. Not to mention Ashley has been waiting outside the door trying to muscle up the courage to knock so she can dress your date.”

“I can dress myself.” You say.

“Not for this.” Stan presses his lips together in a tight line, again looking you up and down as if you're a stain on his perfect suit.

Ben’s anger burns hot in the air, and you’re not sure if it’s because Stan interrupted the two of you or if it’s because he insulted you or if it’s because Stan just reminded you that you’re not special to Ben.

Because I’m not. No one who goes through women like that cares about them. What was I thinking? Ben’s probably using all of this in his grand plan of trying to sleep with me.

“Fine. Give me a minute and I’ll meet you outside.” Ben replies through gritted teeth..

“Don’t keep me waiting.” Stan gives you one more disappointed glance before he walks out the bedroom door.

Ben sighs as he turns back to you. “I-“

“It’s okay just go.” You take a step back from him. It was easier to clear your head when you couldn’t smell his shampoo or feel how wonderfully warm he is. “I’ll see you tonight. I guess.”

Ben hesitates as if there’s something he wants to say, but finally he sighs. “I’ll come pick you up. I think they're gonna fucking dress me somewhere else”

“Okay.” You nod once.

And as he walks out another uncomfortable thought begins to squeeze at your insides

What if this is Ben’s big move? Showing a woman a fancy apartment with a sprawling view of the city while inviting them to an exclusive party and acting like a completely different person, just to finally get me to sleep with him?

The flashing of the cameras and loud voices of the reporters shouting question after question made you dizzy. The brilliant lights blinding you as flash after flash barraged your senses from all sides. The lights were uncomfortably warm and the cameras that pointed at you made you feel like you were under a microscope.

It had taken an entire make up team and the four hours before the event to make sure that you were ready, with Ashley barking orders over the mad scramble of hands that touched every part of your body with no sense of shame. They had forced you to take a shower, and scrubbed your body so hard that you were sure there were skin cells missing, before yanking you out from under the warm water to dry you and tug and pull your hair in all different directions, trying to figure out exactly how you should have it done.

Whenever you tried to protest, someone would tell you how "fucking hot" you looked or how "sexy" you were. It didn’t make you feel any better and all you could think about was you hoped Ben was being subjected to such torture in another room of the Tower somewhere.

The team had rubbed you in creams from plastic containers and shiny body scrub so that you glittered under the lights and then slathered your face with more make up than you'd ever worn in your entire life. You felt like a doll being abused by a four-year-old who got her hands on a new make-up kit on Christmas morning.

When you'd finally thought it was over, Ashley had brought over a velvet box that held a diamond and emerald pendant that was bigger than the size of your thumb and made you feel sick to your stomach to think about how many groceries you could buy with the money it cost.  When she tried to put it on you, you'd waved your hand and said that you didn't want it, but then she'd said that "Soldier Boy bought it especially for you and she'd be damned if she got killed over a fucking necklace." The drop emerald and diamond earrings that matched could have easily bought your grandmother's house in Illinois, but Ashley again refused to listen to your protests.

You didn't know why he'd bought you something so extravagant, especially if you were only going to be there for one night. The memory of what Stan called you followed the entire dressing process: “the new one.”

All it did was remind you that Ben didn’t want a relationship, and it was stupid to consider anything else despite how gentle he had been acting moments before Stan showed up.

The dress that Ashley had shoved you into was the same dark green of Ben’s supe suit, but made of a shimmery fabric that caught in the light. It was surprisingly close to the same style of the red one you wore to infiltrate the fundraiser weeks ago.

It hugged your body, clinging to the natural dips and curves, accentuating them and leaving nothing to the imagination.  It was completely backless, held together by thin criss-crossing dark green fabric straps across the back that were so fragile you thought that any moment they would break. The front of the dress was plain and strapless, arching over the top of your breasts and cinched at the waist so tight you’re not sure how you’re breathing.

And it wasn't you, none of it was. The dress, the expensive jewelry, the party- it made you feel like you were five years old again and playing dress up with Annie in your grandmother's attic.

In the past whenever Annie did your makeup for you, at least she made you look like you, but after one look in the mirror, you didn't see you.

You wondered if this was what Ben wanted women to look like, so far from how they naturally looked, almost as if they were a shadow of themselves and plastered to be a perfect version of what an "ideal woman" should be.

But there was one piece of this outfit that seemed like you. There was a gardenia corsage on your right wrist, something that Ben had given you when you met up privately before your big entrance on the red carpet.

It had made you smile, something old fashioned he'd thought of and yet he knew you would like it because he knew that you loved gardenias. You were flattered that he'd remembered. He'd looked a little uncomfortable when he gave it to you, the same way that he always looked a little uncomfortable when things got a bit too personal, but he'd grunted out a "you like it?" and you couldn't help but smile up at him and nod, because you did.

And it seemed to tear you apart inside, because you wished you knew why Ben was doing all of this for you, why it was so imperative for you to see what this kind of life was like.

"Soldier Boy, is it true that you were overseas for 40 years?" A reporter screams from the sidelines into a microphone.

"Soldier Boy, who is she? Is she your new girlfriend? What's your name honey?" Another screams at you, but you don't answer.

"Are you a supe?"

"Show us your powers honey!"

It felt like you were on display and your words were caught in the back of your throat. Ben was next to you smiling and waving his hand, the epitome of cool, but you knew that you didn't look it. Your smile felt tight, and you were sure that the make-up plastered on your face was moments away from melting off your face.

His hair was slicked back in a very un-Ben way, his tailored suit was a dark green, so dark that it almost looked black except in the flashes of the camera, and he was wearing a black tie that shimmered whenever he turned.

You didn't think that Ben looked like Ben either, and something tightened around your throat when you looked at him, because all you could think was that this was the Ben he was becoming again to re-emerge into the public, the Ben you'd seen clips of in music videos, pictures, and old movies that donned the Soldier Boy uniform.

A little piece of your heart broke to see him like that, so different than the Ben who had gone to IKEA with you, the Ben who had checked on you when you had a nightmare, and the Ben who had slept in the hospital to make sure that you were okay.

And now that he was coming back to all of this, you thought that it meant you were losing him, and it hurt more than you'd realized.

The spotlights were blazing hot, your stilettoed black sandals were stuck in the red carpet, and you could feel the prickle of anxiety in the center of your chest crackling to life and spreading through the rest of your body. The urge to run was settling on your limbs, your body tenses, preparing to bolt-

Ben's arm comes around your waist and he pulls you against his chest, still smiling at the reporters, his hand now resting on the small of your back, and your hand goes to the front of his suit to steady yourself. He brushes his lips against your ear.

"It's okay Petals, I'm right here." He whispers, but you catch it.

His touch calms you, grounds you to the moment, and for a second the smile you have is genuine when the cameras continue to flash, your heart rate slowing with the warmth of his hand against your back.

"Thank you! That's enough photos." Ben flashes a winning smile and leads you past the paparazzi and into where the party is. He rolls his eyes with a sigh. "Fucking vultures."

You don't answer, instead you look around at all the other elegantly dressed people at the party, supes and non supes, and waiters who weave through the crowds with trays of food. You hadn't eaten anything all day, the only thing you'd had was a few sips of that latte, but you weren’t hungry

You felt so out of your element, so completely out of place, and the way you were dressed made you feel like a fraud. Annie had told you that she sometimes felt that way, but it passed. You knew that it wouldn’t for you.

She was here with Hughie. You'd seen her for a second and she'd looked at you in surprise. You hadn't been able to tell her that you were coming to this thing, because Ashley had confiscated your phone, stating that you didn't have enough of an "online presence" to post anything of worth.

You were living for the moment that Annie found you and you could collapse into her and hug her. Being here was just solidifying the fact that you weren't what Ben wanted, that Ben wanted this life, women, drugs, fame, and all you had was a crappy one-bedroom apartment in a shitty neighborhood.

And all you were was a hopeless romantic searching for something in someone that would never exist.

"Are you okay?" Ben asks you, and you snap back into reality. He's raising an eyebrow at you, looking almost concerned.

You hate that he was doing that, acting like he cared, when all it did was give you the false hope that he would turn into someone different, someone who wanted to have a relationship.

"Yeah, it was just a lot."

Ben clocks your frown and the scrunch between your eyebrows that he knows is you tell for when you lie. You hope that he doesn't point it out. 

"Ben look, I know that you think that all of this is-" You wave a hand. "But it's not me. I'm not this girl I'm not-" Your voice catches for just a second. "The party, this dress, the jewelry I-"

"You don't like the necklace?" Ben frowns.

"I mean it's pretty, but all I can think about is how much it cost. And how expensive the insurance policy must be for it." Ben's lip quirks up in a smile. "I think you're the first person to ever think that when I got them jewelry."

"Exactly Ben. I don't know why you want me here. Stan said you should have brought a date-date, you know like them." You point at the twins hanging on Deep's arm who laugh and jump with whatever he says, both wearing identical dresses that look like they were rigged with fishnet and seaweed.

"I don't give a fuck what Stan Edgar thinks, and I wanted you to come to this with me. Just give it a chance, we've only been here a few minutes." Ben replies, but for a moment you think you see something that looks a little bit like disappointment in his eyes.

You bite your cheek and search his gaze, hoping to catch another glimpse of it, but you don't. "Okay." You relent, nodding your head.  

Ben stands there for another minute surveying the room, watching the couples begin to dance on the dance floor, and others wobbling their way to the bar. He looks a little lost in thought, so you don't interrupt him.

"Wait here. I'll be right back." He squeezes your forearm before he vanishes into the crowd without another word.

"But-" You begin to say, but he'd already gone. You audibly sigh and begin to sway back and forth to the song, something that you're not sure the name of, but the words are melancholic, a man singing about a woman who thinks falling in love with him is madness.

Someone taps you on the shoulder and you expect it to be Annie, but when you turn you see Jake. He's smiling at you, his shaggy blondish brown hair falling forward into his tortoiseshell glasses, and he's wearing a charcoal-colored suit. There's a bandage on the left side of his face hiding a cut you can't see, but you knew what it was from. You'd never seen him in a suit and maybe the old you would have noted how good he looks, but you can't, not when seeing him is a shocking reminder of everything that happened with your brother.

"Jake? What are you doing here?" You sputter.

"My dad is one of Vought's lawyers." He shrugs. "Invited me to this. I think he thought it would cheer me up after well… you know."

"Fuck, Jake I am so sorry for what happened. I really didn't mean to drag you into all of that or-" Before you can finish your sentence, he pulls you into a tight hug.

"You don't have to apologize." Jake says not stopping the hug. "What happened wasn't your fault. Annie told me what happened."

"But I destroyed your shop. And your face! I-"

He pulls back with a wide smile, the same one that he'd had all the years that you'd worked for him. "It's okay. Honestly it could have been a lot worse, but Ben pulled from the wreckage. Guy saved my life. I owe him big."

"He what?" You ask confused. You remember that Ben said he'd seen someone else helping Jake from the rubble.

Why would he lie about that?

"He saved my life." Jake smiles wider. "Not to mention he called today, said that he's going to bankroll me for a whole new shop. For a guy who acts like he hates me, he's sure putting in a lot of money."

"He's going to pay for a new shop?"

"Yep. Good thing too. Thought I was going to have to be a lawyer again."

"You weren't too good at that." You snort.

"Don't remind me." He groans. "So you're a supe. And Ben is Soldier Boy?"

"Yeah, it's a long story."

"I guess I should have known you were a supe. No one can make plants grown that fast." Jake jokes, his glasses catching the lights. "And Ben's intimidating so, that tracks.”

"Guess so."

It was weird to talk to him again. You'd been avoiding it for the better part of a week, but the two of you were falling into the same patterns you had in the past, and it was nice.

But for the first time since you'd started working for Jake, you don't see the appeal of dating him. It was odd. All the qualities in a man that you were looking for was right in front of you and you felt… nothing. Sure Jake was cute in a puppy sort of way but-

"Ben hey." Jake smiles at where Ben appears over your shoulder, back from whatever mysterious location he had been in moments ago.

"Jake." He grunts his name and you can only imagine Ben's frown.

Jake looks back at you. "It was good to see you. We should meet up to talk about where I should put the shop and what I should name it. Ben had this great idea about adding fresh produce and fruit, and maybe doing a farmer's market on the weekend. I know how much you like that sort of thing." Jake looks up at Ben and extends his hand. "Thanks again Ben, you saved my ass, and I think this new shop is going to be great."

Ben takes it. "Don't mention it. Really." His voice lowers like it's a threat. "Don't fucking mention it to anyone."

"Sure." Jake winks at you before he walks away through the crowd in the direction of the bar.

There's an awkward moment of silence as you turn to look at Ben.

"Didn't take you long to find that pussy did it?" Ben's jaw is clenched tight and you notice that he looks a little angry.

"He found me." You find yourself feeling guilty, and maybe you were because you were technically here with Ben, but it wasn't a date. He was just showing you what all of this was like.

"Sure. Bet you were just waiting for me to fucking leave so you could get your hands on the perfect man." Ben shakes his head and begins to turn away.

"Careful there Gramps, someone might think you're jealous." You tease, scooting around him to stand in his way.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I am not fucking jealous of him and-“

Before Ben can finish his sentence, you pull him in for a hug. You know that he was angry for some unknown reason, but you didn't want to be angry with him, not when he saved Jake's life, and not when Ben told Jake to add fresh produce, fruit, and a farmer's market because he'd remembered that it was your dream.

"Thank you Ben." You whisper into his chest, his body tenses in surprise just the way it was the last time you hugged him.

"You're welcome." He's not hugging you back, he's more resting his hands on your waist, and slowly very slowly you feel his right arm begin to raise enough to hold you for just a few precious seconds more against him. It made your heart beat stutter, because it was the closest thing that Ben had ever done to hug you back.

When you pull away your cheeks are flushed bright red, and the gardenia on your wrist now has a second bloom that Ben notices. He touches the delicate petals with a wide understanding smirk, his eyes catching yours.

"Guess you're having a good time now." Ben breathes.

"I might be." You whisper back. "Why didn't you tell me that you saved him?"

"Who?"

"Jake."

Ben frowns at the mention of Jake's name, his fingertips still tracing the petals where they barely kiss your skin. "It didn't matter."

"You saved his life. It does."

"I didn't want you to think that I did it because I gave a shit about him."

"What?"

Ben's frown deepens. "I'm not a good person Petals, I don't give a shit about him."

"Then why did you save him?"

He doesn't answer.

"Ben." You say softly, touching the front of his suit and he widens his eyes at your boldness. "Talk to me."

"I saved him because I didn't want you to find out that you killed him. I knew that you were going through a lot and I know you think that he's so fucking perfect and he's the man you love or whatever." Ben says it bitterly and it was the first time you think that you'd ever heard him sound that way.

"I don't love him."

"You will." Ben grits his teeth. "Because he's everything you want."

"Is that why you're giving him money for the plant shop? Because you think that I-"

"No, I did that because I know how much you love that fucking place and how much you hate all of this and being here with me and-"

"I don’t hate being here with you Ben." You admit before you can stop yourself. "I mean all of this isn't my favorite, but… you're my friend."

It hurt you a bit to say friend, but you didn’t want Ben to think that you hated him, not after he had saved Jake because he knew that it would have crushed you if you'd killed him, and not when he told Jake to add produce, fruits, and a weekend farmer's market just for you.

Ben stands there for a minute, the cameras flashing in the corner of your eye, and the longer you stand there, you're suddenly aware that "Gonna Sing You My Love Song" By ABBA was playing in the background, an odd choice for a party like this.

You look up at him in confusion, and Ben is smiling sheepishly, before you realize that was why Ben walked away before Jake showed up, to tell them to play it for you. Ben's hand lands against the small of your back and he begins to lead you towards the dance floor.

"What where are we going?"

"We're going to dance."

"Oh no. Ben I don't know how to dance and-"

"Just follow my lead Petals." He pulls you against him, putting your left hand on his right shoulder while his right hand finds the small of your back and his left hand catches your right.

You know that you must look ridiculous as you try to wobble along following Ben's lead.

"It's okay Petals, it's just us." Ben whispers with a smile, pulling you just a little tighter against him as the two of you begin to sway to the music.

And the longer you sway to the music, the more comfortable you feel being there with Ben. The warmth of his hand warming your body, his green eyes only focused on you, and the soft smile on his lips so unlike the Ben you saw smiling for the cameras a few minutes ago.

"Ben?"

"Hmm?"

"Why is it so important to you that I experience all of this?"

"Because everything you know about supes is from Billy Fucking Butcher. It's not always the way he says."

"But that doesn't really answer my question. Why is it important to you?"

Ben doesn't answer for a few seconds, measuring what he says. "Because I want you to like it."

"Why?"

“Because-“

And this time, instead of finishing his sentence, Ben leans forward and kisses you. His lips move with a softness that you never knew that he possessed, the hand he had on the small of your back holding you tighter against him, as your body molds into his.

This kiss is different than the one that the two of you shared outside of your apartment the first night he stayed with you, it’s filled with something unspoken that makes the weight in your chest lighten, that makes you feel as if you're floating above the dance-floor, but then something clamps down tight on your ankle and drags you back down to earth.

The song continues to play, the soft notes and words bringing back the memory of your parents dancing in a darkened kitchen lit only by candlelight, with your father looking at your mother as if she was his whole world. Their love and your grandparent's love had infused your childhood with something magical, a romance that seemed to transcend time and space, you knew how much you wanted it.

And standing here with Ben kissing you only reminded you that he didn't want that, that he didn't want a relationship, that all he wanted was to sweep you off your feet and make you his for only one night when you wanted a lifetime.

You suddenly heard Stan Edgar's words ringing in your ears when he called you the "new one." Just another in a sea of women who threw themselves at Ben for this exact reason, for his suave attitude, extravagant gifts, and lavish parties where he brought them to cling to his arm.

You remember what Annie said about how Ben spent his entire week in the apartment upstairs, how he spent a whole week fucking his way through whatever came his way instead of calling you or texting you back, and how he didn't seem to care that you wanted to reach him.

And it snaps you out of it.

You pull back from Ben's kiss and out of his arms, your head swimming with emotion. The urge to cry comes up in the back of your throat like vomit, but you shove it down.

Ben looks surprised and you figure that he is, because it hadn't worked, you hadn't fallen for it the way the others had.

He says your name for the first time in a long time, but you shake your head and take another step back from him.

"I can't do this Ben." You turn and flee through the crowds, feeling everyone's eyes on you as you stumble on shaky legs towards the elevator.

You can hear Ben saying your name again and then hear Annie, but you ignore them. You can't be here, you can't go back to the prying eyes of the reporters, and you can't look at Ben, not when he was pretending to give you everything you wanted and you could feel your heart breaking.

The doors of the elevator close just as before Ben reaches them, and your eyes lock with his through the thin opening. He looks the way he did the day you left him standing in the street the day you killed Darren. The same look flashes in his eyes, shock, worry, and maybe just a little bit of fear, but you can't look at him anymore.

The numbers on top of the elevator passes in a blur, the tears finally bubbling up and spilling over your cheeks, the make-up that was so meticulously applied smudging, but you don't care.

You want to get out of this dress, get Rex, and go home. Your real home, where Bean is waiting for you, curled up on the couch, where your plants are, where you could crawl into bed under the covers and forget that this entire night ever happened.

But then you remember how cold it felt when you left this morning to get coffee with Annie, when you were aware of how empty it was when Ben wasn't there.

No. Please just let me get through this.

You practically shoot from a cannon when the elevator opens onto Ben's floor.

Rex greets you at the door with a toothy grin, now the size of a Labrador, jumping from where he was curled on the plush leather couch to come say hello.

You scratch him under the chin, your tears still falling and you knew that they wouldn't stop anytime soon. Everything was crashing down on you again, everything you were realizing that you felt about Ben.

You stumble through the large apartment towards the bedroom hoping to find your clothes where Ashley had wadded them into a plastic garbage bag as if she couldn't look at denim overalls without vomiting. 

And as you reach the bedroom door, you hear the door of the apartment open and Ben shout your name.

For a second you think about locking the bedroom door, but you figure that he'll only break it down. Ben’s track record with locked doors wasn't the best and you didn’t want this one to suffer.

You snag the plastic bag from the corner of the room just as he opens the bedroom door.

"Petals, what the fuck is going on? Why did you-" Ben begins to say, shutting the door on Rex who was sitting just outside.

"I can't do this Ben." You interrupt him.

"Do what?"

"Any of this!" You wave your hand around the room for emphasis. "I'm not this girl. And I'm not some bimbo that you can wine and dine and fuck and then throw away."

"What in the actual fuck are you talking about?"

“I can’t do this." You repeat with a sob, tears curling down your cheeks. You couldn't quite look at him, not without feeling like your heart was burning up. "So, whatever fucked up science experiment this is I want out. I can’t be here.”

“I thought we were having a good time? That you were enjoying yourself?” Ben says. "We were dancing and then I-"

“Why? Because you were pretending to be the man that I’ve always wanted, the one that keep telling me you aren’t? By making me fall in love with a version of you that doesn’t exist? So after you get what you want you just leave me?” You spit.

It hurt you to say the words to him, but it was how you felt. You felt like Ben was yanking you around on an emotional chain, trying to manipulate you by doing kind things, by acting like he cared, just so that you'd finally give in to him after saying no to him since the moment the two of you met.

It made you feel stupid to think that there was a part of you that believed he could be the man you fell in love with.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you down there changing tactics to manipulate me!”

“What?” Ben shouts looking utterly confused.

“Manipulate my emotions by playing that song, saving Jake, telling him to open a fucking farmer's market, and holding me like you actually care with the reporters and kissing me the way I want!"

“I wasn’t trying to fucking manipulate you-“

“Don’t try to lie. I know when you’re lying.” You point a finger at him, ripping the gardenia corsage from your wrist and tossing it across the room at him.

It hits him square in the chest and falls to the floor.

“I never fucking lie to you.”

"Oh please." You could feel the anger, frustration, and the feelings you had for Ben that you pushed down coming to a head. "You do. And I refuse to be 'the new one.'"

Ben's eyes widen in realization. "Are you talking about what that piece of shit Stan said when he saw you earlier today?"

"What else?! Annie told me exactly how you spent your glorious and masterful return to Vought. How you had Stan Edgar bus in women for you all week long!" You reach around to remove the necklace and the ears, fearful that you’ll break them in your anger.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"IT HAS EVERYTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING!" You scream so loud you were sure that the words were vibrating against the windows. "It's how I know you're manipulating me! Because if you really did care about me, and care what I like, and want to be the man who I saw downstairs or the man that came to check on me when I was having a nightmare or the man who sat in the hospital for days you wouldn't have been doing that all week. You would have been in Illinois with me!"

"I told you why I wasn't fucking there!" Ben shouts back just as loud.

"Oh sure. Mr. "I didn't think you'd want me there" What a great fucking excuse, just let me swoon!" You snarl back. The tears were falling faster now and showed no signs of stopping.

Ben's teeth grit together and he looks close to exploding, but you see him gain control. "Just shut up for one fucking second and let me explain."

But you're already past all of this. You were so tired emotionally and physically, so out of touch with everything that by now you could feel yourself slipping into insanity.

"No Ben, because you know what?" By now you're so frustrated that you're almost laughing. "Congratulations! Your big plan paid off!"

"What?"

"You've done it! You've won. You finally wore me down Ben. You finally did everything that I wanted, so come on let's do it! Let's fuck! Because who cares about all the fucking romantic pussy shit right?" Your hands scramble against the dress, the delicate material tearing off in your hands easily and leaving you in the lacy black bra and underwear that Ashley had forced you into.  You advance on Ben, throwing away the ruined dress. "This is what you wanted right? Me naked and completely yours? So let's go! No emotions no nothing. Who needs any of that as long as you get laid? You'll get your five to ten minutes, and then you'll throw me away. Just like you throw away all those other women!"

Ben looks at you stunned as if he thinks you've lost your mind and maybe you have. Because you were so sick of this, of all of this, for trying so hard to refuse him, for trying to hold out for someone who you didn’t think you’d ever meet.

"But it's fine. Throw me away! People have manipulated me and thrown me away my whole life, but whatever you want Ben. Because it’s all about you! Oh wait do you want me to call you Soldier Boy? Would that make all of this better for you?"

Ben still hasn't moved and by now you're standing just a few inches away from you, the expression on his face unreadable.

You grip the front of his suit. "Come on. Take off your clothes!"

He says your name in a low tone, but you don’t listen to him.

"Oh what? Were you expecting something different? You want to pretend that you're going to make love to me? You think that’ll help?”

He says your name again.

"Oh you don't want me now? Is that it? Because I'm finally giving you everything you want?" You rip the suit jacket off of him, and reach to grab his shirt, tearing it and sending buttons flying everywhere.

"Petals." Ben growls, his jaw tight.

“No! Come on. You pretended to be everything I want, you deserve a good fuck. Come on!” You tug at what's left of his shirt, losing the fight to the emotions that continue to crash over you, sobs shaking your shoulders. You beat your fists against his chest, and you know that he probably doesn't feel it, but it feels so damn good to hit him to release whatever the hell all of this was.

Ben's hands come up to grip your wrists the best he can to stop you, but by now you can't form words. Uncontrollable sobs are shaking your body, tears blurring your vision, your breath coming in savage gasps that do little to bring oxygen into your lungs. The makeup is smeared over your cheeks and you know that you look like a drowned raccoon by now, but you don’t care.

He whispers your name in a soft tone, in a way that you've never heard him say before, and it only makes you cry harder.

You collapse into his chest, shaking uncontrollably. You couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything except cling to the tatters of his dress shirt and sob into his chest.

Ben picks you up, scooping under your knees as if you weight absolutely nothing and places you on his bed, but instead of staying there with you he walks away and it breaks something inside, because all you can think is that you'd finally done it, you'd finally proven to him that you wouldn’t be one of the women who gave in and he really no longer would pretend to care about you.

You grab for one of the pillows, smearing your make-up onto the fabric and clutching it to your chest like a lifeline. You could hear Rex outside the door scratching because he wanted to check in on you, but you can't get up.

The bed dips and when you look up Ben is sitting there with a wash-cloth in his hand.

"What?" You sniffle.

"Close your eyes." He says.

You do as he says, sitting up so he can see you better. The washcloth drags over your cheeks, wiping away the makeup that was smudged and caked over your red cheeks.

“I never really liked makeup. When I was younger all the women used to look natural didn’t wear all this shit on their faces.” He rumbles. "I kind of like that you don't wear it as much."

The pressure of the cloth is surprisingly gentle against your cheeks far gentler than you would have thought possible. He adjusts his left hand to cup your cheeks, and as another tear falls you feel his thumb brush it away. The methodical stroking of the washcloth against your skin is calming your racing heart and Ben is quiet for another few minutes, focusing on his task.

Finally, he withdraws his washcloth and sets it down on the bedside table, next to the pothos. You feel his weight shift away from you.

“Put this on. Because you in my bed in your fucking underwear is really testing my restraint.”

You open your eyes and see that he's holding his dark t-shirt, the one from earlier that he wore when he came to pick you up. You raise your eyes to look at him, trying to gauge what he's feeling, but he's keeping his cards close to his chest.

You slip the shirt over your head and as soon as you do, Ben tucks it under you.

Ben was being more gentle than usual. Gentler than you'd ever seen him be. It was making you dizzy. Because again, he was acting like a completely different person. The person that you wanted him to be, the person that he could be to make you fall in love with him.

He swallows.

“I didn’t bring you to Vought because I thought I could manipulate you into sleeping with me.” Ben pauses to readjust. “I mean the thought crossed my mind, that maybe you would be more open to sleeping with me. I'm not perfect Petals, I'm just a fucking man."

You're clutching the pillow to your chest still, trying to understand what he was saying. His thigh is brushing against yours from where he sits on the edge of the bed.

“And you’re right I do want you. I’ve always wanted you, since the moment I saw you.”

“I know that-“

“Let me fucking finish.” He snaps

You sigh and rub your cheeks with the back of your hand.  The expression on his face is almost pained, frustration shines behind his eyes as if he hates what he's about to admit.

“I’m such a fucking pussy.” Ben shakes his head, saying it more to himself than to you.

What?

“I wanted to have you. And you kept saying no. Which normally I wouldn’t care, I would just move on, but you fucking did something to me. Whenever I was fucking someone else all I thought about was you. You yelling at me, or going off about some stupid shit that I did, when I know that I did it the right way." He huffs. "And it-shit- It made me guilty."

"Guilty?"

"Yes!" He snaps.

"Why?"

"I don't fucking know! It just did!"

Your eyes widen in shock. It was the last thing that you were expecting Ben to say.

"I've never, never cared about anyone other than me. ME. I'm Soldier Boy. I'm not supposed to have any kind of weakness especially not for someone like you." Ben spits the word 'you' like a curse.

"Like me?" You whisper with a sniffle. By now the tears are about to start falling again. You didn’t know what he thought this was, but it just seemed like he was insulting you. "Ben I don't understand what you're saying."

“Yes like you! You’re-“ He gestures to you as if he can’t really find the words. “You’re fucking annoying , you crochet those ridiculous sweaters, you like plants, you get people presents for their birthdays, you sing in the shower, you care about other people-“

“So I act like a person?” You wipe away the tears with the back of your hand.

“No! You-“ He roars in frustration and rises from the bed, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

You can see the glow in the center of his chest burning hot as if he's about to explode, but he gets it under control.

“When Diana called me and told me that you wanted me there I-“ Ben's jaw tightens. “I wanted to come, but I hate how much I care about you because I fucking shouldn’t!”

“You hate how much you care about me?”

"I knew that I was in too deep, so when Stan called I jumped at the chance to get out of Butcher's shitty little outfit! I came here and I had him bus in all those women so I could fuck it out of my system, fuck you out of my system but I can't!" His eyes flash around the room with anger and frustration. "Because when I moved out I realized it meant I wouldn’t see you. It meant that I wouldn’t hear you bitch about me doing something wrong, I wouldn’t see your cheeks get fucking red right before you tell me off, I wouldn't smell that damn grapefruit shampoo that follows you around.” By now he almost looks angry, shouting more at himself than at you. "I wouldn't see you sitting on that stupid fucking couch in those sweatpants that drive me crazy while you crochet like a fucking old person. And I wouldn't see the way all the plants in your apartment turn towards you when you walk in or how they all fucking bloom when you smile."

Wait a minute, is he saying that he misses me when I'm gone? That he missed seeing me as much as I missed seeing him when he didn't come to Illinois?

"And I fucking saved that pussy's life because I knew it would destroy you if you found out he died. And I wanted to fund his new plant shop with a damn farmer's market because you said that was your dream and yeah maybe I wanted you to like all of this-" Ben waves his arms around the room. "But I want you to be happy Petals! I fucking hate it when you cry and I hate what happened with your brother and everything that happened with that piece of shit Elijah. I wanted you to have a choice to leave it all, because the shit that Butcher puts you through every damn week isn't for you! I've known that since the day we fucking met."

You felt your chest tighten with his confession, because you suddenly realize that Ben was trying to give you a way out, he was trying to pull you away from Butcher's line of work because he knew it wasn't for you.

It was the conversation the two of you had the first night he stayed with you, when he said that you didn't quite "fit." It was true. You didn't love working for Butcher and you only stuck around to be with Annie, but the fact that Ben cared enough to try and give you an out, something that not even Butcher had done, made you feel like crying all over again. By now he was pacing the room, talking more to himself than to you, almost as if he didn't really want to tell you what he was feeling.

And despite never telling Ben, he figured out that you felt more like you at the plant shop.

"I don't know what you fucking did to me. I've never felt any of this shit before! Even with that bitch Countess this was different! It wasn't like this! I can't sleep without hearing you breathing, I can't eat without knowing that you ate- because you always fucking forget to eat some shit, and I can't survive without seeing you. So are you happy? You've turned me into a pussy. Because yeah I'd still like to fuck your brains out, but now I don't want to do that with anyone else I just want to do it with you." He shouts it pointing a finger at you as if he's accusing you of being a witch. 

He is in love with me. Soldier Boy is in love with me. BEN IS IN LOVE WITH ME.

The realization hits you like a ton of bricks to the chest, that even though Ben tried to distance himself from you, he had fallen, he had done the one thing that he swore than he never was going to.

"Ben-" You start to say in a whisper, but he keeps going.

"So no at the party I wasn't trying to manipulate you. I held you close in the photos because I knew you were scared. That’s why I made the cunts stop taking pictures. I kissed you like that because you were looking up at me with that look in your eyes that makes me fucking burn. I had them play that damn song because I wanted you to be happy to be there with me, especially after that fucking pussy Jake came over and touched you. Do you have any idea what it does to me when he touches you? Or when he makes you fucking smile about some shit? Or when he looks at you? Or the way you look at him?" His chest is glowing again. The tatters of his shirt are still hanging off his body from where you ripped it open.

"Ben-"

"And yeah, maybe I'm not some wimp who likes fucking plants. And maybe you're right, maybe I'm not the guy you bring home to meet your parents, but all I fucking want is for you to look at me the way you look at him!" He snarls and your mouth drops open in shock. "Do you have any idea how fucking ridiculous that is? I don't get jealous! I have fucked so many women and never given a shit if they had someone else, but I'm not even fucking you and the thought of you with him makes me want to-"

"Ben!" You shout over his monologue.

"What?" Ben snaps face contorted with rage.

You swallow. "I love you too."

And you know it's the truth, you know that it's exactly what you've been ignoring and what you've been fighting tooth and nail to avoid admitting to yourself because you were afraid that you were going to get hurt. You were afraid to have those kinds of feelings for Ben, because you thought he would only break your heart and push you away.

You can hear your grandmother's words ringing in your ears:

"There's something else that you refuse to admit to yourself because you're scared. You should though, because when you embrace it, what comes after is really beautiful."

You had been so afraid to fall for the wrong man, but looking at Ben now and listening to everything he said to you, everything he admitted didn't make you think that he was the wrong man anymore. It made you realize that he was the right man, but only for you.

Ben is still staring at you, face contorted with his rage and frustration, eyes burning with the jealousy that he's never allowed himself to admit aloud.

But you refuse to take it back. It was true, maybe the truest thing that you have ever admitted in your entire life, and you didn't regret it.

You knew you loved him even when he made a disgusting joke or teased you or drove you to the point of insanity. You knew that it was why Ben was able to push all your buttons just the right way in a way no one ever had. You knew that was why your apartment was so empty and why you kept thinking that something was missing when he wasn’t there.

Because you loved Ben, and nothing else in your life seemed to matter.

His entire body is pulled tense, the glow in his chest dimming until it's completely gone. And for just a moment you think that Ben is going to start yelling at you again and accusing you of bewitching him, but he doesn't.

Ben crosses the room in two powerful strides and practically tackles you back onto the bed. His mouth fits against yours, urgent, demanding, but also filled with things unsaid. The feelings that both of you had for so long colliding, like a supernova, making your body ignite. You melt into him, feeling the comforting weight of his body settle on top of yours like a heated blanket as you sink into the blankets beneath you.

You hate that you denied yourself this indulgence for so long, not when it feels like Ben was made for you. Not when every single twist of his tongue sends you further into overdrive and makes something at the back of your mind scream “MORE!” at the top of its lungs.

Ben’s body fits perfectly over yours, his hands holding on to your cheeks so tight as if he’s afraid you’re going to pull away from him again as if he thinks you’ll run like you did.

A part of you knows that you’ll always feel guilty for that, for running from Ben when he kissed you on the dance floor. But you won’t feel guilty for this.

The world falls silent and you’re left with Ben.

The man who seemed to be wrong for you in every way, the one who told you that he didn’t believe in romance, and the man who you can’t live without.

“Ben-“ You moan into his mouth your arms wrapped under his arms to hold him close to you, afraid that he’s going to cut and run. “Ben wait-“

“What?” He smiles down at you the same way he did the morning you woke up next to him. And it’s the same way you wanted to make him smile for the rest of your life. Not the cocky smirk,but the soft smile that you felt Ben only reserved for you.

But before you can answer, Ben dips his mouth down and kisses you again. It’s not with the same burning intensity as before, but this time it’s with the gentle movement of his lips against yours, the soft nudge of his nose while his scruff rubs against your cheeks in a way that makes you sigh into his mouth.

“What is it Petals?” He whispers pulling back.

You gently shuffle your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, loving the way the strands fall between your fingertips and scrunching it out of the slicked back style it was earlier. He looks more like himself now. “Can we go back to the apartment?”

“You want to leave?” Ben frowns. “You don’t want to stay with me?” The way his voice shifts just a little, breaks your heart and you pull his face back down so you can kiss him again.

How can he think that I don't want to stay with him if I just admitted that I loved him? Is that how it was with Countess? That she promised him those little things and then left him?

“Of course I want to stay with you Ben. I just like the apartment more."

“Then why?”

“Because it’s cold here. There’s no warmth and nothing familiar. It’s like a museum. And I miss Bean.”

“But-“

“I know that you’re used to this and that you like all of this, but I don’t. I’m not this girl. I’m not the parties and the jewelry and the millions of screaming fans and the ridiculous dresses. I like my little crappy apartment and my five hundred jobs and just staying in to watch movies and eat pizza or read a book and I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” His hand cups your cheek.

“Because this is what you like. The fans, the parties, the apartment on the top floor of Vought tower-“

“I don’t care about any of it if you’re not with me.” Ben winces as if it physically hurt him to say that. “Fuck. Forget I said that-“

Your lips meet his, gently pulling him further on top of you. “No.” You whisper, pressing another kiss to the tip of his nose. “Because it’s not weak for you to admit that you like having me around. Would you hate it if I said that I hate not being around you?”

“No.” He mutters, but he doesn’t look any less disgusted with himself and you’re not convinced.

"We're going to have to work on that Gramps." You smile kissing him once more. Ben's hands travel from your face down to your hips griping your body even tighter against where he lies in the cradle of your thighs and bringing your legs up to wrap around his waist. "Ben?"

"Hmm?"

"I also don't want to have sex with you in this bed."

"Why not?" He smirks. "It's pretty comfortable."

"Because I don't know when the last time you cleaned the sheets was and I don’t want to think about all the women that have been in here this week."

Ben frowns. "Probably good that you don’t." But then he smirks again, pushing the cotton t-shirt you’re wearing up over your thighs, brushing his fingertips against the soft skin gets closer to everywhere you want him to be, his eyes glinting mischievously. "But you're finally admitting you want to have sex with me?"

"I guess so."

“Good.” He smirks. “Because I think I’ve been patient long enough. And I can’t wait to show you just what you’ve been missing out on.”

“You are so full of-“

Ben cuts you off again, his tongue slipping between your lips while his fingers search even higher to a place that makes you gasp and moan into his mouth.

“You were saying?” You can feel his smirk against your lips and fuck if it’s not the sexiest thing you’ve ever felt.

“I was saying, let’s get out of here.”

The car drive from Vought Tower to your apartment was ten minutes, and you were very much appreciating the tinted windows and private backseat from the driver. Ben hadn't been able to take his hands off you since the two of you left and you also were enjoying learning how much Ben liked it when you touched him.

You didn't know how you were ever going to stop. Everywhere inside and out of you felt like it was on fire. It had never been this way with any of the men that you'd dated in the past.

Even your first boyfriend, Newton, never made you feel as beautiful and sexy as Ben did, but it felt pointless to compare them. Not when Ben touching you made you feel like you were radioactive and burning from the inside out.

By the time you get to your apartment door, your lips are already swollen and red, and there’s a collection of marks on your neck that Ben was more than happy to place.

“Ben-“ You moan softly trying to fit your key into the lock of your front door.

He was pressed against you, his hands roaming up and down while he sucked another mark into the shadow of your jaw, his beard burning against your delicate skin in a way that made you want to lose yourself in him.

“I’m a little busy at the moment Petals.”

“We’re in public.” You giggle as you try to fit your key in the door again, but Ben pushes you up against it, his large hand reaches low to squeeze your butt and possessively roams his other one over your chest in a way that makes you flush bright red at the thought of anyone seeing the two of you.

Rex was sitting patiently at your feet for the door to open, while looking up and down the hallway for a potential meal.

“So?” Ben rumbles against your throat, and you can feel his smirk against your skin. “I want everyone to know you’re my girl.”

“Everyone or Jake? Because I don’t see him and-“

Ben moves so fast you think you imagine it. Your arms are suddenly wrapped around the back of his neck, and he has your legs tangled around his waist, bracing your back against the door.

“Don’t say his name in front of me.” Ben all but growls, eyes so dark that it sends a shudder down your spine. “Not now.”

“Please don’t be jealous of him.” You whisper, nudging your nose against his, before you kiss him once more. “I stopped noticing him the day you moved in.”

“Oh really?”

You nod.

“Good thing too.” He murmurs with a smirk. “Because I’m about to make you forget him and everything else.”

A shudder goes through your body that Ben notices and the smirk that curves over his lips makes it difficult to breathe.

“Your heart is racing.”  The hand that he has placed under your leg to support you against the door brushes against the soft fabric of the sweatpants he let you borrow moving back to hold on to your ass. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re excited.” He kisses you again, long and drawn out in a way that makes you feel like you’re going to melt into a puddle. “That I excite you.”

He’s going to be the death of me.

“You excite me too.” Ben says kissing the slope of your neck to suck a new mark there, before you can stop him.

“You’re very sure of yourself.” You say out of breath.

“Mhmm.” He moans, but he puts you down to let you open the door.

Your hand finds his as you cross the threshold of the apartment, giving it a gentle squeeze to reassure him.

Bean is lounging on the couch, a lazy smirk on his lips as if he knew exactly what the two of you were about to do, and Rex scuttles over to sit on the other side of the couch, jostling Bean who gives an angry hiss, that Rex ignores.

The air in the apartment is different now that Ben is with you. It’s not cold or dark anymore or empty, it’s warm and light and filled with something that you’re not sure what it is yet, but you can’t wait to find out. And it makes you happy, happier than you’ve ever felt in your entire life.

“So… yours or mine?” Ben murmurs with a smile, his eyes shifting to the couch in your living room before flicking above your head to the darkened hallway where your bedroom is.

“Hmm.” You bite the inside of your cheek as if contemplating something. “Well I was thinking-“ You begin to walk backwards, tugging him in the direction of the bedroom. “What about ours?”

You didn’t think you’d ever seen Ben smile so wide, his eyes softening in the gentle light coming from the lamps in your living room.

“You asking me to move back in?”

“No. I’m asking you to come home.” You whisper because you knew that it was home, that no matter how many times Ben had said it in passing, the word home had changed into something wonderful. 

“I like the sound of that Petals.”

You continue to pull him down the hallway, but before you get to the bedroom, Ben stops.

“Petals?”

“Yeah?” You look up at him suddenly worried.

“I’m not going to lie to you I’m not really that gentle, but I know that’s you want that. That you want someone who’ll make love to you, but I-“ He grimaces when he says the words ‘make love.’ “I don’t know if I can.”

“It’s okay.” You whisper, cupping his bearded cheek. “As long as I have you it doesn’t matter.”

“You do. And I’m going to try.” Ben murmurs. “I want to show you how much you mean to me.”

“I know.” You kiss him again and wonder if he’s ever said that to anyone else. “I trust you Ben.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Let me decide that.”

And it was true. You knew that Ben wasn’t gentle, but he was with you. And you trusted him. And sure, maybe it wouldn’t look the same way that you’d always imagined when you read those romance books, but it was your love story, your romance, and you didn’t care how it looked as long as Ben was there with you.

A/N: Well the two idiots finally figured it out in the most dramatic way possible lol. I will say that writing that confession scene might be my favorite thing that I've ever written, goodness it was so fun and I've had it written for AGES 😂😭. I'm not quite done with them yet, I see maybe another chapter or two, but we are quickly nearing the end of this story. Again thank you so much everyone for all the love and support, I really couldn't do it without all the wonderful feedback and love that everyone has shown me. ❤️🥰

If you'd like to ask me about my WIPs for WIP game my asks are open! And my WIPs are listed on this post!

As Always, thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know :)

Taglist:

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[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Hi, I read your monster au posts and they are amazing. Though I was wondering what would Rollo be and how would he handle there being a magicless human given his attitude in canon, as well as how would GloMas go down with Yuu and Mini!Yuu in that au?

So, I’d been holding off on answering this for Rollo until I had a better grasp on his personality and behavior, as deciding the monster/cryptid species that fits best is important. But since the Glorious Masquerade is coming to the ENG servers tomorrow (I’m not ready!!!), it feels like the right time to introduce him into the Monster!AU!

Also, as for whether or not RSA has seen Yuu/mini!Yuu, I think at least Che'nya and Neige and the dwarves have seen them yes! Outside of those, I leave that up to you/whatever direction the game takes us down next! And thank you so much, I'm glad everyone loves the AU's ;;v;;

To answer the question, I decided to base him off the French (and coincidentally Louisiana) cryptid “feu follet”, otherwise known as a Will-o’-the-wisp. Why did I choose this versus creatures like the “Beast of Gévaudan” or the “Gaueco” which will make him a fluffy canine monster? Well, while I think both would be interesting concepts to work with, neither of them really seem to fit the vibe I got from him as he’s portrayed in the beginning (…well, before chaos as usual hits the fan of course). Plus, it was also an interesting excuse to delve into more of the non-animal based ones besides Ortho being a golem!

WARNING: SOME SPOILERS AHEAD AND MENTION OF DEATH BASED ON THE MYTHOLOGY OF THE FEU FOLLET/WILL-O’-THE-WISP!

Anyway, I picture him being more of a feu follet/Will-o’-the-wisp as a call to his UM “Dark Fire” and his last name Flamme, which translates to “flame” in French. Hence, as a “ghost light”, it seemed more fitting! Feu follets are said to come in various shades of blue, yellow, red, and even green—now imagine him changing color based on his emotions and having to control that side in public! His poker face means nothing behind that handkerchief if he turns colors! 😂 (Especially if you keep in mind color theory!)

While they’re also generally harmless, however, if you’re familiar with the legend of Will-‘o-the-wisps (which has multiple different variations and stories across the world!), following one at night thinking it’s a fellow traveler can lead to one’s death in a marsh, bog, swamp, etc. Typically, they’re seen in a graveyard or one of the above-mentioned areas. Since no one knew how dangerous Rollo was until it was too late, it seemed fitting for him to be one!

By the way, he can be corporeal to handle things or be hugged by someone. He can also phase through things he wants to avoid…now imagine his hat getting caught between the fence bars! 🤣🤣🤣

With that out of the way, let’s discuss his reaction to Yuu and mini!Yuu!

Given that he’s more comfortable with non-magic users, he’d be fascinated and charmed at the thought of humans—creatures of historic legend and cryptic bedtime stories—being non-magic. A world where magic doesn’t exist and no one will be consumed by blot or harmed by spells gone awry? He’d likely want to know more, but he wouldn’t want to get too close—after all, he’s not exactly keen on making friends or showing a vulnerable side. Yuu is gonna have their work cut out for them if they want to give him pets and scritches! Their best bet is in private where he’s less likely to react so strongly (though if he learns that getting the majority of Yuu’s attention is enough to annoy Malleus and the others, I can see him being smug about it and letting them praise him 😌).

As for mini!Yuu though…

Mini!Yuu: *toddling around the room, giggling as they support the large puffy cap on their head*

Azul: “Where did you get that, little one?”

Mini!Yuu: “Mr. Rollo dropped it and let me wear it!” *adjusts the cap with one hand to try and look up at them before bumping into Deuce’s leg* “Oof!”

Deuce: “Oop! Careful, Yuu!”

Riddle: “I’m surprised he allowed you to wear it given his position as Student Council President.”

/Meanwhile/

Vice President: “Uh…President Rollo? Where is your cap?”

Rollo: *holding handkerchief to his mouth* “Yuu wanted to know how heavy it was.”

Vice President: “Y-you’ve never let yourself be out of uniform!” *gets emotional* “But you’re allowing the human child to wear it…that is so precious!”

Rollo: *scowls, his wisp body turning reddish-pink in embarrassment*

///////////

Pfft…I just couldn’t resist a bit of cuteness~! UvU/)

As for how the whole event would go down…well, I can imagine that Rollo would believe he’s doing the right thing, so him possibly trying to separate Yuu from the others using the flowers would be even more terrifying! For mini!Yuu, the whole situation would be absolutely terrifying for the toddler since I doubt the others would have let them come with them to stop Rollo. So, the boys would likely leave them with Grandpa Trein for safety until the whole situation is done and over with.

Once all is said and done, it’s really up to Yuu to decide how they see Rollo after the fact. As for mini!Yuu? Whether they find out it was started because of him or the boys kept it under wraps just like everyone else in NBC being ignorant of what happened, they might just be happy to see he’s okay. Now imagine him dancing with mini!Yuu at the end of the event like Charlotte with Prince Naveen’s younger brother from Princess and the Frog!

[inquisimer]

HEY BB if you had to pick 5 fics you’ve written to make a “crash course” and sum up your writing personality, which would they be? I must know.

thank you for the uno reverse, MWAH

it's only fair that I have to turn this lens on myself but DANG was it hard to be like "what is my writing personality?" I think it really boiled down to: platonic relationships, grey wardens, a just a hint of Lore™️

Gen'adahl - Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, Rated G, 1485 words

this was one of the first ever DA fics I wrote; I remember scrawling it out in a notebook at my last job where I wasn't allowed to keep my phone at my desk. And I was so proud when I finished it! For me, it represents the proof that I can finish pieces, no matter how long it takes

to be seen feeling - Male Mahariel/Morrigan, Rated T, 5039 words, a gift for @dreadfutures as part of the 2023 DAFF DIscord's OC Swap

writing this fic was not only an absolute joy, it was a pinnacle for me: if I could write a fic that captured the depths of Blue's OCs, I could probably do anything. And I did! And I can! It was exactly what I needed at the time and also a reminder that however blase my own knowledge or fandom experience feels to me, it will slot into what even the most knowledgeable fandom personalities know in surprising ways.

Shards of Glass - Female Brosca & Rica Brosca, Rated G, 3304 words

One of my first toe dips into the gray area of lore! It was so fun to imagine an alternative for Brosca's origins, to give her a deeper connection to the Stone, to play in the absolute barren wasteland wide open sandbox of Bioware's dwarven lore. Beyond that, this piece highlights my Sibling Bias™️ and how much i love exploring the DAO origins before the Blight, in general.

nothing hits the ground without an echo - Alistair & Bethany Hawke, Rated G, 1045 words

My first Dragon Age canon/canon fic! Absolutely wild to think that before I got into Dragon Age I was vehemently anti-oc in fanfic 😂 I'm so glad I outgrew that and can love and celebrate all of our OCs. At the same time, it was a joy to return to my canon x canon roots and play up the Grey Warden lore and happenings at Vigil's Keep that seemed to die in game after Awakening ;-;

I carried my own ashes to the mountain - Zevran Arainai & Female Brosca, Rated G, 1202 words

Nothing particularly poetic to say about this one, to be perfectly honest, I just like the Vibes™️. I think the humor and sarcasm suits my writing personality, and the lighthearted overtones that are haunted by unnamed pining and angst are Very Me :3 Also Nika not recognizing her face and yet reluctant to let go of it until someone gives her permission is something deeply personal to me, that I didn't even realize until after I'd written this. I look back on it and go, yep, yeah, I see you now, past mer😅

[spookyserenades]

hi second part 👋🏼

hobi- just remembered this, when y/n, Ben, Alice, and Laura text about how hot the hybrids are I thin mainly hobi omg they cracked me up sm. The im married not blind part was so funny 😂

jimin- i don’t remember much from the chapter in September I don’t think we saw much of him but in this recent chapter OMG he was such a sweet pea!!! Y/n really went all out getting his HORSE shipped here. And jimin saying happy b day to join was so sweet cause every one’s warming up to joon after the fight a bit and I think everyone is warming up in general. Anyways y/nie goes above and beyond for her boys and ahhhh so sweet. He was so happy too you could tell he wanted to cry gosh. I love when jimin can’t handle his alcohol well I can just imagine his red cheeks eeek I hope we get to travel and see his family too. He’s defiantly been working hard on the barn, and when she mention he was shirtless at some point 🥵 I cant- im sorry I’m on my period that my horrible excuse anyways -

taehyung- him wanting to take photography and him taking pics of HER STOP ✋ no author u need to stop it’s too much like omg and when they held each other afterward I melted like I TURNED into a puddle of the floor and I’m only able to write this now bc it’s so cold here that I froze and turned back into my human form. She’s possessive and irl tae is too cause like do u remember the perila leaf débat he would get so jelly if his gf peeled off a leaf for a guy friend. The dinner scene where the waiter was making eyes an y/n and tae held her waist and GLARED that’s some dominance right there. I forgot about including the piano scenes in yoongi so I’ll add them here. the pic tae took of their feet sounded so cute and I’m glad yoongi and tae are getting more comfy w each other (cause I think yoongi chose to sit next to him asp) also cause when y/n was thinking abt how she didn’t want him to be alone 🥺😩 yes tae we want you to interact w the others~ Tae LOVES her touches too he reacts easily in just a snap 🫰

jungkook- ahh yes our angst boi- his birthday party scene was so cute he was so flustered and malfunctioned Sksks it was nice to see a raw and genuine part of him that was truly thankful for her that day I hope we get to see more of that. Jk annoying y/n during hobi’s run by giving her a cig omg I cant- this man’s needs to stop he just loves to tease. Such a sassy and snarky boy I’m totally here fir it all the way. And him picking a scary movie bc he knows hobi Jin and jimin will hate it lol. Him already agreeing to held joon and y/n w the wards before she even asked- really can’t hind anything in this house lol. I forgot to talk about this, but joon being upset w y/n and she didn’t call for him when she head the spirit threaten her 😩 he tries to pretend he doesn’t care but he DOES FR and Jk look at him like dam. Okay but that cliffhanger for the last chapter ofc u just stuff us full of fluff just to rip it out of us and I LOVE IT. I wonder what Jk and hobi/joon (I think joon was involved) fought about to make jk storm out like that although it wouldn’t be the first time. And on Halloween, come on yall! Smh 🤦‍♀️ ahh but he’s one of her boys so she’ll rein him in anyways.

Im guess there’s too much testosterone in that house hold or maybe they’re energy’s bc most of them are exotic predators and dominance is a big thing. I don’t remember exactly. Anyways I spoke about everything I could remember so far sorry for typos, ty sm for feeding us every month with such a hearty meal! Luv u 💋

Hehe hey again!!! fkdasfk I'm glad you liked my "married not blind" joke LMAO it's sooo true, especially when it comes to Hoseok. 👹

Jimin - Y/N getting him his horse... my bestie who usually beta reads for me was like Dana no way lmao. I wanna have disposable income like Y/N, and spoil all the boys silly too!! I guess we can live vicariously though Y/N LOL. 💀💀💀 But Jimin so deserved to be reunited with Vista, and he was so happy to have a piece of his former home with him now. Jimin is such a sweet, polite guy, so him wishing Joonie a happy birthday proves he really just want to keep the peace. Tipsy Jimin is just the cutest stinking thing ever, I can picture his face so clearly in my mind! Knowing Y/N, she'll definitely make good on her mental promise to bring Jimin to see his family (I'm sure she wants to meet them too!) Also YES you're right, he was totally shirtless when he was patching up the roof of the stable... I would have passed out if I saw that, Y/N is a strong woman!

Tae - UGH Another one that is totally whipped for Y/N, taking pictures of her, including a couple at his first expo... even though only four were displayed at that expo, you can imagine he's probably taken dozens more of her, which makes me blush and kick my feet. He's definitely one of the more cuddly ones, too, so when he hugged her at the expo that moment was so sweet and intimate... physical touch must be one of his love languages. I love my men a little possessive, and I DO remember the whole perilla leaf debate (wild) and Tae being like that both irl AND in Trouvaille is just so... you know? He was definitely staking claim over Y/N in that brewery, he did not like that random man staring at his girl like that. OOF! 🥵 I'm glad you brought up Tae and Yoongi beginning to come around to one another. They have that connection of both being into music, and I think they have similar possessive feelings over Y/N. Maybe Yoongi will be the one who gets close to Tae first, we'll see!!

Jeongguk - fhdjasf our little edgelord! Ah his birthday was so self indulgent, fluffy, and a chance to see his softer side under all that iciness he usually displays. I think the longer time wears on, he'll let go of more of that frostiness and become more comfortable showing Y/N his tender side. fjdksa I forgot about the scene where he offered her a cigarette at Hoseok's meet-- such a twerp!! I love love love scary movies, and I feel like him maybe Yoongi are the only two that would actually wanna watch a horror film with me IRL, or Y/N in Trouvaille. Hoseok is a bit of a scaredy cat, and the rest of them put that off a little bit as well LOL. And for sure, there really isn't anything that can be hidden in that house anymore, there are ears literally everywhere.... bad news for someone who likes to talk shit, like me. But that's an example of Jeongguk being uncharacteristically sweet, agreeing to help Y/N even if he doesn't have to. Joon was so pissed when she didn't call out for him when she was threatened, but Y/N handled everything just fine, IMO, he was being a dramatic wolf.

You know I love a good cliffhanger!!! I can't not have one almost every time. Hopefully, this time, the conflict can be resolved quickly, and it isn't as bad as The Incident between Joon and Tae. We shall see-- or you may have already seen, in this newest update!! I'm dying.... there is indeed too much testosterone in that house, but I suppose that it is just something they're all going to need some adjusting to. BUT!! Thank you again so so much for sending in these messages and gushing over the boys with me. I always look forward to hearing what you think. Loves you babe!! 💜💞💜💞

[frannyzooey]

"Something doesn't have to look a certain way to be happy" non here! I’m so glad you understood what I meant. I’m kind of obsessed in part because I think I have a weird perspective. I’ve had just two relationships in my life, and both were great guys - just one turned out to not be for me. Hubs and I have been together over 15 years and met when I was a college freshmen. There was a slight age gap (just 6 years but felt larger at 18) and we have remained happy and committed. I think we’re the weird ones 😆

Would you ever consider writing a “happily ever after” type one shot? Totally understand if that’s the most cringe awful monstrosity you could ever imagine. I kinda see it either being sweet or that 😂 I sort of feel bad asking because it could come across as such the antithesis to the intent and so disingenuous, but I know it’s a beloved fic and an AU could be fun if nothing else. By no means am I implying your ending wasn’t perfect — it was — I’m just curious and have also had some wine.

You aren't weird at all! That's exactly what happened with my husband and I at the exact same ages, and we are still going very strong ❤

Don't ever feel bad asking! I have played around with a number of things for them - in my drafts, I have: their first reunion night in England, a 🍑 drabble, a drabble about their time apart and how Ezra seeks solace in men - and I could see someday down the line adding one that gives a little more closure than the ending did? I don't know if I could ever write a truly syrupy sweet ending for them since I can't reconcile that with their paths in life in my head, but if I DID, it would look like a version of this:

Birdie comes back to NYC, she needs a place to stay so Ezra invites her to live there, Cee has long since made her peace with it since she has a new found sense of independence in the city and Ezra is beyond happy to have a little Birdie in his house every day.

Him, working in his work room and her, writing in the front room, and them, cooking dinner together every night.

Him, running his errands and her, coming back from the library and them, curled up on the couch together before they go to bed.

Him, looking over at her every so often with a small smile because she's really here, and her, looking over at him every so often because she's really here, and them, looking at each other in the dark bedroom as their bodies entwine.

Them, going to movies and parking in the back of the parking lot just so they can take in the late show and then make out in the car afterwards.

Them, merging their friend groups and finding new things to do together and them, delighting in the openness of their relationship. The affection they can show in public and at home, freely.

"I'm just curious and have also had some wine" is how I have made half my friends on here, so PLEASE, never feel bad asking me anything!

[airanke]

Nah, I understand where you're coming from, you explained yourself well -- and I'm really sorry the reason is so awful and sad. Losing characters we love is always super difficult, especially when we put so much of ourselves into them. I totally understand the fear, as Dabi is my intense emotional support blorbo. Ironically, I had a character kinda like that in WoW, though he was a much smaller character. I got wildly attracted to Putress in BC when I was a wee little lass playing WoW for the first time (I admit it was very shallow - I love undead and the warlock tier they put him in was and still is my favorite and it was SO GOOD) and I promptly sat about writing a bunch of stories featuring his character and my own. Come WotLK, suddenly he had a much bigger and cooler role than just as a plague investigator man. Which was so cool! And then, uh, they killed him. I'm usually pretty damn good at just existing in my own head and ignoring canon, but it did get to be pretty hard. I feel like losing a character like Vol'jin would be much worse, considering he actually had some like... y'know, development! So: all the condolences. ): It makes me sad to imagine you stopping with your stuff, cause I really enjoy it. I love seeing people embrace the whole canon x oc thing so much -- but I also know how hard that can be when we're at the whims of other creators. I'm really sorry you're having a bad time of things, and hope you can find some peace and happiness -- and that your cool WoW AU treats you well!

Hrrr yeah I think that's the hardest part for me right now - like it almost makes me wish I wasn't so invested in the series as a whole, then it would make ignoring the canon easier haha! It was really weird to me to fall for Dabi as hard as I did, I'm still confused about that to this day 😂he's the only reason I have any interest in BNHA.

Oooh man, Putress was amazing!!! (Listen, undead + warlock + THAT WARLOCK TIER = G O L D so I DO NOT BLAME YOU for your attraction to Putress <333 also HIS VOICE??? //swoon).

God yeah, WotLK would have been such a hard hit :( I think Putress is like, one of the few "villains" that Blizz actually did right by, but damn. You def know exactly how I feel 😭Vol'jin was even worse cuz they ended up bringing him back (sort of) in SL, and it just made me? Angry? Because like... why'd you kill him off then if you were going to turn him into a Loa (I literally HATE IT).

Aaaaaa //// I'm glad you really enjoy it, I think a lot of my uncertainty too is affected by my RL right now (I'm surrounded by a lot of negativity esp at work - not directed AT me, just around me, which I absorb like a sponge).

I'm getting pretty far with WoW AU!!!! I'm getting a lot of the hardest stuff out of the way (aka: Lineart), I could talk about it for hours haha (BNHA x WoW = Air Has The Strongest Ideas). Dabi/Abi's inventories are SOOO stressful because of all the tiny details, but for now it's treating me well!! I'm about half-way through the line-art for Abiteth's druid forms, then I'll tackle Dabi's inventory, then probably start doing some spell sketches for him. I think if I get the line art done I could have it finished by either the end of March or April.

[brummiereader]

@mischievouslittlecreature I'm slowly losing my mind with Lizzie's antics. This was my face after the first few sentences of this chapter when I read where Lucy's new room was 😒...

Lucy found that Lizzie did not have her things moved to a room down the hall, or even kept her in the same wing, as she had expected. No; she instead had ordered her moved to the entire opposite side of the house. I'm really starting to hate her 😂! How the hell has she just muscled her way in like this? And why is Tommy letting her do it?? She can not make her jealously of their relationship more obvious if she tried, it's really starting to look pretty pathetic 😒. Just give it up, Lizzie!

Yes. “No, sweetheart,” she forced a smile. “It wouldn’t upset me. I just want you to be comfortable with her.” this hurt. I can't imagine how upsetting this was for Lucy. But she's mature enough to understand how little Charlie can't really make sense of it all, and probably wants to do like Ruby.

At night, he closed his eyes and imagined that it was Lucy who was under him, but the feel of it was all wrong. The way the hands that were on his body touched him wasn’t right, and try as he might, he couldn’t fully relax. 😬👀. Well, I'm glad he's having a shit time lol, because this whole agreement is bullshit. He shouldn't be sleeping with her. I hate that Lucy felt she had to come up with to this arrangement, because poor ol'Lizzie got the brunt of this deal. The only person I can see that's missing out, is Lucy 😩.

Afterwards, he would lay there on his side of the bed, thumbing at his brow, and feeling like the biggest scum on the earth.- It felt like he was cheating on her.-Even though Lucy agreed to it, even though she said it was fine, he couldn’t shake the sick feeling that he was betraying her. 😌. I'm sorry, but this is exactly how he should be feeling. I don't feel bad for him In the slightest 😂. This is where the line should have been drawn in their faux marriage, because not only does it give delulu false hope, but it's killing Lucy.

As much as he's pissed me off no end, their little phone call was pretty sweet. He was so nervous to talk to her, like a kid that knows they've done wrong. I couldn't help but swoon over his desperations for her to tell him to come home 🥰. They're clearly eager to get back together as soon as possible, but something tells me that even when they do, Lizzie's gonna make everyone's life hell!

She just stepped into the hall, moving to close the door behind her, when she heard heavy footfalls approaching so quickly that she barely had time to turn before he was on her. And then his hands were cupping her face, mouth slanting over hers. Ahhh, squealing at this enthusiastic reunion ❤️! Ok he's forgiven now 😂. This was honestly, the best way he could have greeted her! He didn't even give her time to register, let alone breath before they reconnected in a passionate kiss 🥰.

Head tilting a little, he deepened the kiss with a parting of his mouth and a deep stroke of his tongue against hers. "Deep stroke of his tongue"...🥴. Their reunion sex is gonna be feral 😈.

Lizzie walked right on past her, face drawn into a tight expression akin to that of thunder, eyes staring straight ahead. Lucy might as well have not even been there at all. Oh F off, Lizzie 🙄. Her immaturity has no limits. No wonder Tommy is so turned off by her behaviour. It's polar opposite to Lucy's.

I can't, I just can't 🤦🏼‍♀️. And I'm pissed off at him again for not putting his foot down. So first we have the picnic, then the nursery visit, then the dinner, then the boardgame. Arghhh 😡! My last nerve has gone, disintegrated. She's driving me insane 🤪😂! She's purposely trying to push Lucy out. And I know Tommy sees it, but he's not doing anything about it, which is infuriating me. She's had him to herself for the whole "honeymoon", and all Lucy got was a kiss that got interrupted. I know I keep saying it but, who the hell does Lizzie think she is??

Think I'm gonna need another drink after this chapter, in fact, until the foreseeable future, I'm gonna have a bottle of Bailey's next to me everytime I read a new chapter because I need it to get through Lizzie's bullshit 😂.

Incredible chapter, hun 😍!

Part 22: This Misery We've Made

Summary: Lucy awaits Tommy's return from his and Lizzie's honeymoon.

Word Count: 6,162

Warnings: Jealousy, depression, and sexual content.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 4: Are You Still Mine

Upon her return to Arrow House on the night of the wedding, Lucy found that Lizzie did not have her things moved to a room down the hall, or even kept her in the same wing, as she had expected. No; she instead had ordered her moved to the entire opposite side of the house. The room was dark, the recipient of very little sunlight thanks to the way that its window was facing. And Lucy was pretty sure it had drafts.

Frances had asked her if she would like to change rooms, but she declined. She hated to ask the staff to move all her things around again, and if this was where Lizzie wanted her to be, she supposed it would be best to abide by her wishes. It wasn’t that big of a deal anyway.   

Ruby had gotten settled in her room and was becoming well acquainted with Charlie and the staff, but she cried nearly every time Lucy tried to pick her up. She was beginning to fear that the little girl hated her. Even though it was more likely that she was just missing her parents. 

Lucy had loved Ruby from the first moment that Tommy laid her gently into her arms. How could she not, when she was half him? And the girl was sweet as an angel, at least when she wasn’t wailing through half the night. 

“She’s really loud,” Charlie complained, wandering into the newly fashioned nursery one night while Lucy held Ruby as she cried, rocking her back and forth in the rocking chair and shushing her gently. 

“I know, Charlie. You can go sleep in one of the other rooms, if you’d like,” she suggested, but he had just come over, peering at his sister curiously. 

“Is she always gonna be this loud?”

Lucy let out a breathless laugh. “I hope not.”

He reached out to pat Ruby’s back awkwardly, before sitting down on the floor beside where Asher was laying near Lucy’s feet, petting the dog and keeping her company until the baby finally cried herself to sleep and Lucy managed to maneuver her into her crib without waking her, ushering Charlie back to tuck him into his own bed.  

“Is Lizzie my new mum?” he asked while she pulled the blanket up around him. Lucy hesitated, an ache blooming in her chest at the idea of Charlie calling Lizzie ‘Mum.’ But she swallowed it down. The last thing that the children needed was to be put in the middle of this whole messy arrangement between their parents. She wanted to shield them from that as much as she could. 

Do I even still qualify as Charlie’s parent? she mused miserably to herself. Lizzie would be in charge of a large part of his upbringing, and Lucy would be absent for undetermined swaths of time due to working with Tommy in London. Depending on how often she was gone at work throughout the week, she honestly wouldn’t blame him if he did start considering Lizzie more his mother than her.  

“If you want her to be. Or she can just be your friend. You can call her whatever you like, so long as you are respectful towards her, yeah?”

He nodded, but his little brow creased. “It wouldn’t upset you, if I called her mum?”

Yes. “No, sweetheart,” she forced a smile. “It wouldn’t upset me. I just want you to be comfortable with her.”

“I like her. She’s always nice to me.”

A stab of jealousy, white hot, twisted in Lucy’s heart, but she ignored it. All that mattered was that Charlie was happy and okay. She would not let her feelings get in the way of that. “I’m glad, Charlie. And I’m sure that your dad will be too. It’ll make it easier for him if you and her get along.”

He nodded, and she gave him a quick kiss on the forehead. 

“Get some sleep, kiddo.”

“Night, Lucy.”

“Goodnight, Charlie. I love you.” She turned out the light for him and crept out the door, checking one last time on Ruby and making sure that the nurse was up and able to go to her if she woke up again. Satisfied, she then made the trek back to the other side of the house, Asher trotting at her side. 

At night, she laid awake in her bed, and tried not to think about how cold the space beside her was. Or what Tommy and Lizzie were most likely doing. Loneliness coiled around her, dark and with a touch like ice. She drew the blankets tighter around herself with a shiver. It had been so long since she slept alone. Tommy always made it his life’s mission to keep her warm; never a night passed when their bodies weren’t entangled, his arms around her and her head on his chest, their legs twisted together. 

She wondered if Tommy would even still want her by the time he got back.

He had a new plaything now. Lizzie was younger, taller, prettier, and unscarred. She was able to sleep through the night without waking up screaming from trauma-induced nightmares. She did not fall into hysterics when squeezed into a small, cramped space. Perhaps he would find that he preferred her.   

“Mrrp!” There was a soft sound, and then the ever so slight dipping of the mattress as a small body hopped up onto it. Lucy rolled over, opening the blankets to the little creature pattering towards her. 

“Hey, Trouble.”

The tortoiseshell cat meowed again, curling up against her side. Lucy let her fingers stroke through her soft fur, scratching her behind the ear and smiling a little when she started to purr. 

The bed dipped considerably as the larger bulk of Asher followed Trouble in jumping onto the mattress, laying down in the spot Tommy usually took up. He brought his cold nose in close to Lucy’s face, giving her a sniff before laying his head down by her chest, letting out a soft whine. She busied the hand not petting Trouble with stroking his deep black fur. 

“Thanks, babies,” she murmured quietly. Asher’s tail had thumped a few times against the mattress, as if he understood her.

For hours, she laid there in the dark, staring up at the canopy, tears silently streaming down her face despite her animals’ best attempts to comfort her.      

∗ ∗ ∗

Tommy slipped out of the bedroom, careful to close the door softly so as to not wake Lizzie. Sneaking barefoot into the sitting room of the spacious suite they were renting for the week, he sat down heavily on the couch, reaching for the phone.  

He had called Arrow House twice since arriving in Paris, and both times, Lucy had not answered. The first time around, Frances had informed him that she had to go to London unexpectedly to deal with some issue at his office there, and the second time, she was out riding with Charlie.

He was beginning to worry that she was avoiding him. 

Her demeanor at the wedding reception scared him. The expression in her eyes was so sad, and she kept looking at him as if she expected never to see him again. He felt awful for just leaving her there, internally kicking himself for not insisting that she be allowed to come along on the honeymoon. 

He would certainly be having more fun if she was here. 

He was trying to ensure that Lizzie had a good time, but as for himself, well…everything in France was tainted for him. Memories of the last time he’d been there, elbow deep in mud, the dark walls of the tunnel closing in around him, kept replaying on a loop in his head. 

At night, he closed his eyes and imagined that it was Lucy who was under him, but the feel of it was all wrong. The way the hands that were on his body touched him wasn’t right, and try as he might, he couldn’t fully relax. 

He moved performatively, letting Lizzie touch and kiss him and guide his hands where she pleased, his mind only half there until she reached her peak and he hastily pulled out, fisting his cock and always finishing on her stomach. The last thing that he wanted was another accident. Much as he loved Ruby, he was not keen on the idea of having any more children to further shackle him and Lizzie together. 

Afterwards, he would lay there on his side of the bed, thumbing at his brow, and feeling like the biggest scum on the earth. 

It felt like he was cheating on her.

Even though Lucy agreed to it, even though she said it was fine, he couldn’t shake the sick feeling that he was betraying her. 

He would lay there for hours, staring at the ceiling and hating himself. He couldn’t sleep without Lucy. The weight of her in his arms, head resting on her spot on his chest, had grown to be akin to that of a child clinging to a teddy bear during the night for comfort. Without her, he found himself unable to relax enough to even consider dozing off.    

Lucy was a cuddler, always clinging to him like a koala every chance she got. He couldn’t even remember a time when they’d shared a bed and she wasn’t snuggled up against him. Lizzie, however, was not, preferring to lay on her own side of the bed, the most touching between them being her hand resting on the center of his chest. He tried holding her the first few times after they had sex, but it always felt wrong, and neither of them seemed to particularly enjoy it, Lizzie always drifting away to her own side of the bed when she was ready to actually fall asleep.  

With a heaving sigh, he dialed the number for Arrow House and lifted the phone to his ear, listening to it ring. With each buzz, his paranoia grew. He had never spent so long away from her. It left his nerves on edge. He just needed to hear her voice, even if only for a minute. 

A part of him was starting to fear that when they returned to Arrow House, it would be to find Lucy gone. Her things packed up and removed, nothing but a note or merely a message through Frances to offer clues as to where she’d disappeared to. Departed from his life forever.   

Please, love, pick up the phone. He knew that it was late, and she quite likely could already be in bed, but if he could talk to her for just a second, just one second…

What little hope he had dwindled with each buzz across the line, and he was about to hang up as the last ring reverberated in his ear, when the other end picked up. 

“Hello?”

For a moment, he couldn’t say anything, too relieved and emotional at the mere sound of her voice to form words. 

“Hi, love,” he finally managed to get out, swallowing roughly and clearing his throat after hearing how rough it sounded. 

Quiet on the other end. “Hey, Tommy.”

“I, erm…” he shifted awkwardly, “I called earlier…”

“I know, Frances told me. I’m sorry, I was out dealing with a disaster. I didn’t want to call back in case you two were busy…”

“It’s alright,” he plucked a cigarette from his case where it was laid out on the table, swiping it across his lips before lighting it. “Do you need me to come home?” Please say yes. “If there’s a problem…” 

“No, no, I got it all sorted. Don’t worry,” he heard what sounded like papers being shuffled in the background. “How’s the honeymoon going?”

“It’s fine.” He winced at how apathetic his voice sounded.

“Are you having a good time?” He could distinctly imagine her frowning, phone held to her ear by her raised shoulder while she juggled papers and a pen at her desk. Or maybe she was curled up on one of the couches, Trouble in her lap and a cup of tea or a glass of whiskey on the table beside her. Maybe a book she’d been reading when he called still clutched in one hand.

“Lizzie is.” He scratched at his brow, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “I’m sorry for calling you so late.”

“It’s okay. I was still up anyway.” 

“I thought maybe you would already have gone to bed.”

A pause. “I can’t really sleep right now.” Her voice was quiet, as if she was ashamed of it.

“Me neither.” He rested his elbow on his knee, leaning forward in a way that his back was likely to protest about later. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” A sigh. “Only a few more days.”

“Yes.” It felt like an eternity. “Listen, there are some travel brochures in my desk. Take a look at them. After I get back, we’ll go wherever you want. Just the two of us.”

A tiny sound that might’ve been the bitten off part of a chuckle sounded from the other end of the phone. “You can’t just take one holiday after the other, love.”

“Well, no…but after a little while. Pick something out, and we can start planning.”

“Alright.” Her voice raised a little, and Tommy exhaled a relieved breath at the thought that he’d managed to at least somewhat raise her spirits. 

“How are the kids?”

“They’re fine. They miss you. I took Charlie out on Mystery the other day. It won’t be long before he’ll be able to ride on his own.”

“Mm,” he hummed, smiling at the thought. “Give them a kiss from me.”

“I will.”

“Are you working?”

“Yeah, figured I might as well if I wasn’t going to sleep.”

“Try not to overdo it.”

“Pot meet kettle.”

He bit back a smile. An ache of longing throbbed in his chest. All he wanted was to see her face. That sparkle in her big eyes whenever she teased him. The impish twitch at the corner of her lips. He could take her into his arms. Pinch playfully at her hip and kiss the top of her head…

He was ripped unceremoniously from his little fantasy by what sounded like movement in the bedroom. His smile dropped. 

“I’ll let you get back to it, then.”

“Okay.”

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too. I’ll see you soon.”

He nodded, though she could not see him. “Just a few more days.”

They bid goodbye and he hung up the phone, wiping his hand down his face. Lizzie’s voice called out to him from the bedroom. Tommy sighed, trying to push away the sudden zing of resentment that flooded his veins towards her. Tipping his head back, he inhaled deeply from his cigarette, trying to cobble up enough willpower to return to his wife, despite the way his entire being longed so desperately for another. 

∗ ∗ ∗

She sat at her desk, listening anxiously for the sound of Tommy and Lizzie’s car pulling up to the house. They were due home any minute, and with each tick of the clock on the mantle, the tightness in her chest seemed to cinch a little more, making it hard to breathe. She kept fiddling with her rings, at risk of wearing away the skin or giving herself little blisters on her fingers with the way that she kept twisting and fidgeting with the metal. 

Charlie was playing with his toys on the floor, making little engine noises as he dragged his toy cars across the rug. Ruby was upstairs, taking a nap while the nanny and Cyril watched over her.

“When will Dad be home?” Charlie asked, looking up at her with blue eyes that were the perfect mixed shade of Tommy’s and Grace’s.

“Soon, kiddo,” she offered him what she hoped was a reassuring smile, putting her cigarette out in the ashtray and straightening out some of the papers on her desk. 

Her days since the wedding had been taken up with work. Which was fine; she was grateful for the distraction. Though she still often caught herself staring out the window, lost in her gloomy musings about the future.

It was not long until her ears pricked at the sound of a car approaching the house. Charlie immediately jumped to his feet, whooping in excitement and racing for the front door. Lucy smiled a little to herself at his enthusiasm, rocking back in her chair with her knuckles raised to her lips. The engine shut off, and she heard the sounds of car doors opening and closing, and then the hum of voices when Charlie greeted his father in the entryway.

She would hang back for a little while; wait until they had come inside and the children got a chance to see them first. 

Watching the second hand on the clock tick steadily around its circumference, she rubbed mindlessly at her lips. She would just wait until they were settled…

Oh, who was she kidding? She was stalling; frozen with terror over what sort of reception she was about to be in for. 

When the second hand had made five full circles around the clock, and her cigarette was almost entirely depleted, she stubbed it out in the ashtray and forced herself to her feet. Each footstep that carried her closer to the door of her office felt like it was bringing her closer to her doom, rather than the man who had been her lover for over eight years. 

She just stepped into the hall, moving to close the door behind her, when she heard heavy footfalls approaching so quickly that she barely had time to turn before he was on her. And then his hands were cupping her face, mouth slanting over hers. Lucy let out a startled little sound, leaning into him on instinct. One palm flattened on his chest over his heart,  whilst the other ran up his neck to cup the back of his head. Tommy kissed her hard, purring contentedly against her mouth, thumb stroking her cheek while one hand fell away to grip her waist and pull her closer. 

For a moment, the whole world fell away, and there was nothing but the soft press of his lips to hers. Head tilting a little, he deepened the kiss with a parting of his mouth and a deep stroke of his tongue against hers. Lucy could not quite contain the soft moan she let out in reaction, fingers curling tighter around his lapels. Body fitting snugly to hers, Tommy sandwiched her between himself and the door she’d just pulled closed a moment ago. The warmth of him seeped into her even through the layers of their clothes, his distinctive scent of smoke and pine trees surrounding her comfortingly.

When he pulled away it wasn’t to go far. He merely dropped his face into her neck, pressing kisses all along the column of her throat and pausing to nuzzle at her skin and breathe her in.

“Hi,” he sighed out, lips tickling her when they moved, his nose brushing tenderly against the sensitive skin of her neck. Lucy let out a quiet, somewhat bewildered laugh, her brain still working to catch up with the rest of her after being kissed passionately enough to make her head spin. 

“Hi.”

He finally lifted his head, still lingering in close enough that their noses brushed. His thumb stroked at her cheekbone, eyes lowered and gazing at her adoringly. When she rubbed her hand up and down the back of his neck, he made another soft purring noise from in his chest and shifted closer to her.

My big grumpy black cat, she caught herself thinking fondly. 

“How was it?” she asked, voice quiet despite it being just them in the hallway. 

His eyes swiped down her body, drinking her in with a look that made butterflies take flight inside her stomach. “Fine,” he said absently, fingertips playing with the collar of her white blouse. His eyes darted up to hers. “I missed you."

She opened her mouth to say that she’d missed him too, when commotion erupted at the other end of the hall. 

“Dad! Dad! Come see what I made while you were away!” Charlie cried out excitedly, entirely oblivious to what was going on between her and his father. He bounded up to them, latching onto Tommy’s leg and tugging. 

“Alright, alright, just a minute, Charlie, yeah?” Tommy gave him a fond ruffle to his hair, and Charlie nodded before zooming away in the direction of the stairs. Tommy watched him go, amusement flickering in his eyes before looking back at her.

“He’s been doing painting in his art lessons this week,” she explained. Tommy’s lips twitched upwards, but an apologetic look crossed his face, leaning forward to touch his forehead to hers with a sigh. “Go,” she urged, rubbing at his forearm. “It’s alright.” 

He kissed her again. “We’ll catch up properly later. I promise.” Based on the coy glint in his eye, she knew he was not talking about just sitting down and chatting about his trip. A throb of warmth pooled in her lower belly. 

“‘Kay.”

He kissed her once more and reluctantly pulled away, just in time for Charlie to circle his way back to them, grabbing Tommy by the hand and half dragging him towards the stairs. She smiled at him when he shot an amused look at her from over his shoulder, before Charlie successfully led him out of sight. 

With a sigh, Lucy leaned back against the door, hand raising to rest on her chest, right on top of her collarbones. Relief washed over her like a cleansing waterfall, briefly taking with it the doubt that had been plaguing her since the wedding. 

That lasted only a moment, however, until she heard the click of approaching heels, and Lizzie rounded the corner, head held high with Ruby in her arms, the baby hoisted up against one hip. 

“Lizzie, hi, did have a good time—?” 

Lizzie walked right on past her, face drawn into a tight expression akin to that of thunder, eyes staring straight ahead. Lucy might as well have not even been there at all. 

She sighed, hands and fingers seeking out her rings to toy with as she watched Lizzie stride down the hall and vanish around the corner. 

∗ ∗ ∗

After Charlie took Tommy to see his paintings, Lucy returned to her office to wrap up what she had been working on before he and Lizzie had arrived. Hopefully that would give him and Charlie some ample time together.

Checking the clock and capping her pen, she tucked her files away into a drawer in her desk. Locking it with a key from her pocket, she took one last look around her office, checking to make sure that there was nothing else that needed putting away. Satisfied, she ventured out to find wherever it was that Tommy may have wandered off to. 

She didn’t need to look far. The muffled sound of voices led her to the main entryway, where Tommy and Lizzie were standing. Lizzie had her coat on, a picnic basket in the crook of one elbow and jaw set stubbornly, irritation flickering in her eyes.

“Lizzie, come on…” Tommy was saying.

“No, Tommy, this is important!”

“I’m not saying it isn’t, but I don’t see why she can’t come–”

“What’s going on?” Lucy asked, approaching them. Tommy looked over at her, his expression markedly different from the one he’d had when greeting her earlier. He looked tired and regretful. Almost haggard.  

“I arranged a picnic for me, Tommy, and the children,” Lizzie said, accusing eyes dragging away from Tommy to fix on Lucy. 

Lucy blinked at the blatant omission. “Just you four?”

Lizzie did not waver, chin angling up slightly. “The kids need some uninterrupted time with their father.”

“But you’ll be there,” Lucy added. Lizzie’s jaw clenched. 

“I already told Charlie about it. He’s excited.” Those accusing eyes darted between Tommy and Lucy, challenging. “He’ll be disappointed if we don’t go.”

Anger spiked in Tommy’s face. “Don’t you dare try to use Charlie–”

“Tommy,” Lucy half reached out to touch his arm, then thought better of it with Lizzie standing right there and already agitated. “It’s fine.”

He shot her a baffled expression. What she’s trying to do isn’t okay.

But she’s right that the children ought to have some time with their parents.

You’re Charlie’s mother. 

She gave him a sad smile. Was she? Still? Technically he had never been hers, even if she had always viewed him as such. 

He’s probably sick of me after a whole week of it just being me and him. The attempt at levity didn’t really work, Tommy’s frown still staying in place. So she tried again. The kids deserve to have more time with you. And it would probably be good for both of them to see you and Lizzie together. Charlie could use some bonding time with her, and having you around might help facilitate that. “We can catch up later,” she said the last part out loud. Tommy shot her a helpless, reluctant look. “It’s okay.” Already she could hear the clatter of Charlie’s little feet running towards them, eagerly latching onto his father’s leg. She couldn't bring herself to deny them time together. If it meant that she had to be left behind, so be it. 

In a movement that she sensed was both an attempt to soothe the sting and in defiance of Lizzie, Tommy leaned forward and kissed her softly on the cheek. “Won’t be long,” he murmured, quiet enough so that only she could hear. Nodding, Lucy managed a weak smile. 

“Have a good time.” 

“Dad, c’mon,” Charlie took hold of his hand, and with one final sad look her way, Tommy let himself be pulled towards the doors. Lizzie was standing there, waiting. The nanny had come at some point with Ruby, now securely in Lizzie’s arms. Lizzie’s eyes were dark, lips pressed in a thin line while she watched them. But once Tommy joined her and they started to walk out the door and down the driveway, her expression melted into a giddy smile. Lucy stood in the doorway, one hand resting on the solid wooden frame, watching the smiling family walk away from her.

After they disappeared from view, she took a step back, closed the door, and with a sigh returned to her office.  

∗ ∗ ∗

Tommy eyed Lizzie warily as they began the walk back to the house. She kept making excuses for them to stay out longer, until the sun was sinking low in the sky. And the entire time they were out, she kept shooting him these wide-eyed, hopeful looks that made his stomach clench uncomfortably. Even as he tried to distance himself from her, focusing his attention solely on Charlie and Ruby, she kept looking at him like that.

“Dinner will be ready shortly, sir,” Frances informed him as she helped him remove his coat. 

“Right. Thank you.” He barely got two footfalls away before Lizzie was calling for him again. 

“Tommy, will you come see Ruby’s new room?”

She has to be doing this on purpose. He looked over his shoulder at her. Lizzie’s brows were raised expectantly, Ruby already half asleep in her arms. Gaze shifting to his daughter, he sighed. 

Just for a minute, he told himself. “Alright.” He followed Lizzie up the stairs and down the hall, steps faltering and brow furrowing when she opened the door to Lucy’s room to reveal that the inside had been entirely redecorated and transformed into a nursery. The big canopy bed was gone, replaced by a crib and playmat. Where the vanity had once been, now there was a chest of drawers, a rocking chair by the window where a plush loveseat once was.  

His frown stayed in place as he followed Lizzie to the crib, bending his head to give his little Ruby a kiss before Lizzie laid her down for her nap. 

“Can you believe that she’ll be walking soon?” Lizzie shook her head, smiling and wiggling her fingers in front of Ruby’s face. 

“Mm,” he acknowledged, still looking around. Even the artwork on the wall was different. “This is Lucy’s room.”

“I asked her to switch so Ruby would be closer to us.”

Us. Just how often did she expect him to be sleeping with her? He thought that he had made it clear before the wedding what the sleeping arrangements would look like after the honeymoon.

“And she agreed to move?”

“Of course she did,” Lizzie’s tone sharpened, but at the way his brows rose in response she softened slightly, looking back at their dozing baby. “She wants what’s best for her.”

“Yes, she does,” he agreed. Don’t you dare try to use that against her. He had always been infinitely grateful for the love Lucy showed his children, despite their maternities. 

“We should go down for dinner,” Lizzie said, making her way to the door. After one last second spent glancing around the room, Tommy sighed and followed her. Lizzie moved with brisk steps, and Tommy allowed himself to lag behind, not particularly eager to spend anymore time with her after a week of being stuck in close quarters together.

A meow drew his attention, footsteps skidding to a halt when he spotted Trouble lounging on a windowsill in a patch of sunlight. She was watching him with those assessing green eyes, tail flicking back and forth casually. 

“Hey, girl,” he approached her slowly, suddenly deeply aware of the fact that he was being strongly scrutinized. “Sleeping on the job, eh? Don’t you have mice to catch?” He reached out a hand to her, and she suddenly hissed, paw swiping out towards him. He barely managed to retract his hand in time to avoid the sting of her claws. “Alright, alright,” he held up both hands, taking a step away from the irritated cat. 

You left her, Trouble’s eyes seemed to accuse.

It wasn’t unheard of for Trouble to take swats at him from time to time. She had always been deeply protective of Lucy, and while he and the cat had mostly found common ground in their shared love for their little redhead, Trouble would always, without fail, be ready to bite or swat at him any time that he upset her.  

“I know,” he said softly in response to the cat’s silent accusation. “But I’m back now. Things will be like they were.”

Trouble just let out another meow. One that he was pretty sure meant, we’ll see.

∗ ∗ ∗

They served salmon for dinner, along with potatoes and steamed vegetables. Tommy sat at his usual spot at the head of the table, staring at the spread of food laid out in front of him. When the serving bowls were passed his way, he spooned only the smallest of portions onto his plate. Lizzie sat at his right. Charlie on his left. 

All the other chairs were empty. 

He frowned as both Lizzie and Charlie started eating, looking at the various entryways into the dining room, expecting to see his redhead enter at any moment. 

“Frances?”

She looked up from where she’d been pouring Lizzie a glass of gin. “Yes, sir?”

“Where’s Lucy?”

Frances looked between him and Lizzie nervously. “She’s working late, Mr. Shelby. She won’t be able to make it to dinner.”

He felt his brows draw in. Had something else happened that she needed to attend to? Did his absence this past week cause too much work to be put on her shoulders? 

His fingers ran mindlessly over the smooth handles of the silverware to the right of his plate, lips turning downwards.

Or was she avoiding them?

He wouldn’t blame her if she was. What did he expect; especially after he ditched her to go play happy families with Lizzie rather than spending some time with her after a whole week spent apart?

Should he go to her? Or would it be better to leave her alone until she decided she was ready to see him? He felt adrift, completely unsure of what to do. It was a feeling that was completely foreign to him when it came to Lucy. Normally he knew her inside out. Often able to anticipate her needs and emotions with ease. But this whole situation was uncharted waters for both of them.

Did she share his feelings that he had been unfaithful to her? Did she realize while he was away that she deserved far more than to be the mistress to a man who could offer her nothing but a broken, twisted heart? 

She deserved so much better than him. Even though he loved her with his entire being, it was not even close to enough. He frankly had a hard time fully understanding why she was still with him at all. 

“Right,” he cleared his throat roughly. “Make sure to send a tray of food to her office then, will you? I don’t want her to go hungry.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Thank you.”

Beside him, Lizzie stabbed aggressively at her food and glared at him. 

After dinner was cleared away, Tommy stood hastily from his seat, prepared to sprint for Lucy’s office if he had to, but yet again Lizzie’s honeyed words beat him to it.

“Charlie, don’t you think it would be fun if the three of us all played a game together? You have some board games stashed away in the library, don’t you?”

“Yeah!” 

Tommy slammed his eyes shut, grinding his teeth together. He wasn’t sure what frustrated him more: her constant sabotaging, or her using Charlie to accomplish it. 

“Wouldn’t that be fun, Tommy?” Lizzie asked, and he turned his head to meet her gaze, her expression nothing but sweet and coaxing while she fluttered her eyelashes at him. 

“Please, Dad? Please?” Charlie begged. 

Tommy exhaled once, deeply. “Alright.”

Charlie cheered, and took off towards the library. 

“We should invite Lucy to join us,” he suggested. 

“She’s busy. No need to bother her,” Lizzie stood, pushing her chair in and moving to follow Charlie. “Besides, I think it’s good for the two of us to have some more time with Charlie.”

“Lizzie.” He spoke slowly, taking very great care when choosing his words. “Stop using him.”

“I’m not–”

“Yes, you are.”

Her lips pressed together, eyes lowering. She said nothing for a few seconds, then sighed. “You’re going to have plenty of chances to spend time with her once you go back to work. I want Charlie to see us together, Tommy. He needs to understand that we’re a family now. And why I’m the one taking care of him when you aren’t here.” She looked up at him, eyes suddenly very vulnerable. “I’m nervous about how things might go when you aren’t here. He might not listen to me.”

Tommy bristled slightly at what she was insinuating.  “He’s a good kid, Lizzie.”

“I know, I just…look, I know Lucy is the closest thing he’s had to a mother since Grace died, and I’m not trying to replace either of them, but…I think it would be good for both of us if he at least recognizes me as your wife. And as his step-mother.”

“He likes you. He trusts you. He’s known you his whole life. Lucy and I have both explained to him that he needs to respect you. And if he doesn’t, Frances can help you with him while I’m away. It may take some time for him to adjust, but he’ll get there.”  

Lizzie nodded, looking down again, suddenly seeming very insecure, and Tommy immediately felt bad. This whole arrangement, while she’d agreed to it, couldn’t exactly be easy for her. She would need time to get adjusted too. 

“Let’s go join him in the library. Before he bursts from excitement,” he suggested, standing and using a guiding hand to usher her towards where Charlie had run off. Lizzie glanced over at him, that hopeful, dare he say lovesick look appearing in her eyes once more. He swallowed harshly, tempering down his suspicions and concerns about what exactly she was trying to achieve here. She knew what she agreed to.

Surely she could not be hoping that there was a chance he would concede to changing the entire arrangement that the three of them had come to, could she?

That would be foolish. He and Lucy couldn’t have been more clear about how things were going to be if they tried.

But still, his nerves piqued, alarm bells going off in his ears, their shrill cries only growing when Lizzie reached down to take his hand as they made their way to the library.

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[dreamwritesimagines]

Ok I’m loving the Lottie x Anthony ship!!! Could you imagine if after the play or some other even where he’s chasing after Clover Benedict comes back and is looking for his family and doesn’t see Lottie. He would totally be freaking out because he was supposed to see her home but now he can’t find her oh no. So he races to her house and gets there just as Lottie is being walked to her door by some guy and Benedict is freaking out even more cause who is this they could have bad intentions with her. So he runs up to them yelling at her and is like “where were you I was supposed to take you home you were supposed to wait for me?!” Only to turn and see that the guy is Anthony. Lottie is just so calm but also confused cause “I tried waiting for you but I got tired so your brother offered to take me home. It’s no big deal it’s just Anthony. Plus I didn’t wanna interrupt you and Clover this is the longest you’ve ever spent with her”. Meanwhile Anthony is freaking out cause 1. What does “just Anthony” mean? And 2. “How do I save this? How do I play this off and make it look like I’m not in love with her? I can’t let Benedict know I have feelings”

I just know Anthony is wishing for aspirin with all the headaches he’s getting at these events with having to deal with Daphne, watching out for Lottie, listening to Benedict, dodging other ladies, and repress every emotion in his body whenever he sees/interacts with Lottie lmao

OMG I LOVE THIS SHIP SO MUCH! 😍 I'm so so glad you guys came up with it! 😍🥰❤️

Aww Anthony walking her homeeee! 😍 Charlotte would be so sweet, probably telling him all about how Benedict and Clover will be a cute couple even if Anthony doesn't exactly approve of Clover yet 😂

Meanwhile Anthony is freaking out cause 1. What does “just Anthony” mean? And 2. “How do I save this? How do I play this off and make it look like I’m not in love with her? I can’t let Benedict know I have feelings” LOLLL this is hilarious 😂😂 He would be trying to play it cool but he would be deep in thought all the way back home 😂❤️

Oh he definitely would need it! 😂 And I think he keeps an eye on Lottie and her dance partners especially now that Benedict is distracted by Clover 😂 And he would be glaring at her dance partners for sure 😂

[wackus-bonkus-maximus]

I’m laughing/crying at the spy x family feligami AU. It’s so interesting because in a way it’s better and also worse 😂😂😂

Like, Felix also refuses to admit he cares and is often a manipulative ass like our favourite super spy. Except Loid is at the end of the day is a very easy to read tsundere who is overwhelmingly vanilla. Felix is 200% more ruthless than him and 500% harder to read so he’s definitely much more of a threat. I wonder if he’d have a higher or lower mission success rate because of his arrogant judgement calls? He’s a worse team player than Loid so he’d have to be burned several times before he started to properly rely on others. Even so, Felix still has his soft and humanising moments that can make you see the vanilla frosting hidden deep, deep under the 200 layers of puppet master cake.

Meanwhile, Kagami has her ruthless justice side just like Yor, and I can 100% see her committing to an ideology where you need to break a few eggs to make an omelette and she might as well be the one to break them For The Greater Good. Except Yor is so much more soft and vulnerable than Kagami, who is much thornier (the irony!) and doesn’t let her weak side show very often and I imagine that makes it a bit harder to get on with her at first. But at the end of the day, Kagami is just as kind as Yor is, even if her manner may be brusque, and I think in a way she’s also just as insecure - if not more. Yor’s insecurities tragically revolve around her not being sure what ‘normal’ is due to losing her parents at an early age. Kagami didn’t lose her mother but she also doesn’t know what’s ‘normal’ precisely because she grew up with her. She would only have her own uncompromising parent as an example and would know she doesn’t want to follow in her footsteps but without knowing exactly how she wants to parent instead either.

Like I can see Kagami observing the way Felix and his mother interact and having an identity crisis because she just can’t bring herself to be that openly and physically affectionate and that makes her question her qualifications as a good wife/mother, especially compared to her MIL who she can see Felix adores. But it would be so much harder for her to communicate that than Yor who can let everything out with her teary breakdowns. Then again, Felix is also more observant than Loid in a way, so I think he might able to notice she’s having issues and draw her feelings out over a game of chess or two.

And to top it all off, our feligami are much more suspicious and less vulnerable to rose coloured glasses. I can’t see either of them turning a blind eye to superhuman strength or suspicious absences. Loid and Yor try to keep up their fool’s facade with total innocence on both sides, meanwhile I can see Felix and Kagami actively snooping and conducting honey traps to get to the truth 😂👌🏻

It’s just hilarious how swapping the personalities of an adult assassin and spy for that of two teenagers actually somehow makes the series darker and edgier 😂😂😂

thank u for this analysis on my spy x feligami au 🤗. i'm glad i wasn't the only one with these thoughts raging in my head as i put off grading homework for 2+ hours to do this.

and thank you for blessing me with the felix cupcake analogy. i agree, loid is (somehow) way more chill than felix, whose 200 layers of puppet master cake (i WILL be chuckling about that forever) can both help and hinder him. i think as a solo agent, felix would be really successful, easily outsmarting all his enemies. if he had to team up with anyone, especially franky, he'd make a mess.

yes!! kagami is yor but with that Greater Good mindset and more self-confidence! i bet it was tomoe who raised kagami to be an assassin, too. her first assignment was taking out the tsurugi tech competition, and she was so good at it tomoe just kept giving her bigger assignments. this is spy x feligami au canon now.

omg YES thinking about their relationships with their in-laws is giving me so many delicious angsty ideas. kagami would be just like you said, amazed and intrigued and mindblown that someone could be so affectionate with their mother, and have an actual healthy relationship with a parent! and then when amelie started to embrace kagami as part of the family and treat her like a daughter...u bet kagami would kill all her enemies. and then on the other hand felix would be Upset to discover kagami didn't get to have that growing up. it'd be all the more motivation for him to find excuses to bring kagami around to visit amelie.

"I can see Felix and Kagami actively snooping and conducting honey traps" ME TOO DUDE. they'd start some mr. and mrs. smith type shennanigains, probably actually try to kill each other for real a few times and think that was so hot. darker and edgier it may be, but i imagine by the end they'd go rogue and be like the mom and dad in spy kids. basically this au is the prequel to spy kids.

[atxxzist]

If smut is well-written and justified I'm totally into it (unless... I'm not for other reasons), but especially in ETL stories, you have to be careful. Seonghwa and Y/N were already on thin ice, sex would complicate things even more, obviously you could've used it as a plot device, but ultimately I'm glad you didn't.

It makes sense, they're from different worlds for sure, but they're not Romeo & Juliet, so I think they can do it, haha. Also, the opposites certainly attract in their case, after all Hongjoong felt too safe for Y/N and their chemistry just wasn't really there, I'm glad they remained friends though!

I would like to see more of their shenanigans back in university. Is Seonghwa gonna sit next to her? Is she gonna like it? 👀

I've never read any of your stories except Blacklist and I rarely read for other members than Seonghwa - I used to read for San at first - but I'm curious to see more of your writing, which story of yours is your favourite?

Oh, sure can I be 🦔 or 🥦 if they're available - you can choose which one, I don't mind either way!

exactly. which is why i mulled over a smut scene for the longest time, even when it didn't happen in chap 8, i initially said there'll be one for the final chapter just bc i felt something needed to happen between them before i could rlly put a closing to the story once and 4 all. but it's also the eventual realization that they don't need one. and im glad i stuck with that choice; i think it was the right one since they still have so many things to work on.

and u right 😂 after all, with how seonghwa's character is, i believe he will do whatever he want anyways lmao (for the right reasons this time). and yes hongjoong. im glad u brought him up. i wanted to give a dynamic between him and y/n where they really would just b better off as friends. ofc, they got a lot of love for one another, but they also idealized/romanticized the other person in the same way u would look up to an idol, y'know? but with seonghwa, y/n already knows his flaws, his lows, and how stupid he can rlly be; which is what makes their moments all more special when she does like something about him. but with hongjoong, she would have a harder time processing that he's not this dream guy she built in her head. idk if that makes any sense 😭

as for what happens to them post-final chapter, it really is up to the readers' imagination unfortunately. i havent really thought too much about it, but somewhat, somehow, we can say they are endgame <3

as for my other works, i cannot confidently recommend any already existing completed piece bc i am embarrassed about all of them to an extent lmaooo (i am still kind of a new writer to atinyblr). but u will see that i mainly write for San bc he is my bias <3 the only other series i have besides blacklist, is one I wrote for him called push&pull but the outcome of that fic is kinda shitty and i would steer clear. BUT I do have a new series coming out, call Broken though it is for San. Just posted the masterlist for it yesterday, not too long after finishing up blacklist. that would be the only one i'd say u keep your eyes on just if u want to stick around. i've yet to write for it, which is why i hope that when i do, it will turn out okay. i am kind of a fuckboy/badboy lover lmaoooo... u will see that very quick.

and I like 🦔 hehe. it's cute. so thank you again for talking to me, miss 🦔. ur efforts r greatly appreciated. but no pressure! 💖 i also try to keep the response as short as possible, but they always end up being essay-length, im sorry 😭

[zepskies]

@kaleldobrev Oh my God, so first of all, this is AMAZING. Thank you so so much for reviewing the whole series like this!!! 😭😭💓💓💓

Lmao it's absolutely a trip, and I'm so glad you enjoyed the ride!! I'm so excited to dive into your comments, so here we go:

Prologue:

AS SOMEONE WHO WORKS FOR COUNTY GOVERNMENT THIS HIT HOME

LOL yeah I could very much imagine that! 😂

Chapter 1:

^^ This whole fucking exchange was SOLID GOLD - the completely fabricated line was just PERFECT & poor M.M <3

"Solid Gold," you say? 😏

Her friendship with Annie is super cute. I love that Annie is genuinely interested in who she is as a person (as you pointed out)

I felt like Annie would be the first one to readily embrace another woman in the group!

Really excited to read more about her relationship with her sister. I love that reader is doing everything in her power to try and help out her sister get the best freaking education that she can <3

Yeah I modeled this reader as a kind of "female Dean" with certain personality traits and background, so even though you don't see Louisa too much, her "presence" is felt in how the reader makes her choices/motivations.

Chapter 2:

Love the fact that she decided to sing a song that her grandmother used to sing to her when she was kid <3

Sentimentality, family, nostalgia -- these are all themes I played with in this, and as you saw, it later plays in with Ben's background and hidden sentimentality.

^^"He couldn't even pick me up himself? Lazy." - This line made me freaking wheeze

😂 Ben really thinks he's a little king of his own castle, so to speak. Just hand-picking girls to come service him. Little does he know, he's gonna get more than he bargained for. (But really he knows exactly who she is, and is sending her to his room intentionally.)

^^RUH-OH *nervously chuckles*

Yeah Ben's an asshole, but he's not that much of an asshole, if you catch my drift.

Chapter 3:

Oh, Ben's definitely loving her sass. Her fiery personality is probably half the reason he keeps her alive, tbh.

And lmao Butcher was definitely outvoted. The rest of the team likes her too!

Chapter 4:

“Bad girls get punished. Is that what you want, sweetheart?” he asked.  ^^ Oh...no...please don't punish me Ben... ;) ^^ Please punish me though

🤣🤣 Girl same tho. And he was SO long-suffering about having to save her ("being inconvenienced" is exactly what I was going for). But he already likes her spirit.

Chapter 5:

I sense a friendship between her & Frank coming!

Oh yes! Creating the reader x Frank friendship was definitely one of my favorites in this series. 🥲 I actually really took my by surprise how much everyone loved his character (and Loco and Saul).

^^Just really loved this section. Like I said before, even though she got kidnapped by him and his men, Ben seems to be really interested in who she is as a person. "Whatever was keeping him awake, he seemed to crave the company as you rifled through the pantry." This line really spoke to me for some reason

Bottom line: Ben is lonely and suffering PTSD and doesn't want to admit it. She's interesting to him and he doesn't want to admit it. He wants to figure her out and doesn't want to admit it. 😂

The fact he wasn't even fazed when she walked in on him xD

Oh he has absolutely no shame. 😂 In Spanish we call that (and him), "sin vergüenza."

FINALLY SOME CLOTHES THAT FIT HER

IKR? Poor girl. 😂

Chapter 6:

Oof, this one's a doozy.

I'm living for the Frank & Loco dynamic!!! <3

I'm so glad, especially living for the "wishing these guys were on the show" compliment, because that warms me every time I hear it. 🥹🥹 I loved creating Ben's group of henchmen.

Lmfao the "hemorrhoid" line was probably my favorite to write for this chapter.

Ben being super sweet with her at she was almost SA'ed like broke me. This line specifically: You wouldn't know how that small gesture affected him as he carried you out of the kitchen

It's a turning point for her and Ben, for sure. It's a bridge of trust that forms between them, and what we call a "save the cat" moment, showing us that Ben's not as big of an asshole as we thought he was.

And it's a turning point for her and Frank as well, when he opens up to her so that she'll let him treat her wounds and check her out medically.

And then the "cooking together" scene -- I call it their Beauty and the Beast "Something there that wasn't there before" moment. 😂😂

Chapter 7:

^^No words. Just...no words...<3

Not gonna lie, I gave myself secondhand embarrassment several times writing this chapter, but thank you!!! 😂😂

I like the fact that even though he wants to fuck her, he's not pressuring her in any way. He may be "an asshole," but at least he doesn't push

And here's my reasoning on that. Ben grew up in the 30s/40s, a much more conservative time overall, societally. Arguably more "respectful," if rigid in societal roles between men and women.

But also, I think it would be a point of pride with Ben -- that he doesn't "need" to push, because why should he when he can have another woman in a heartbeat? (Or at least, that's how he might justify it to himself. Not because he respects her and genuinely likes her or anything. 😘)

^^Loved that he acknowledged this and tried to fix it right away, making sure that he wasn't hurting her (because that's the last thing he wants to do because deep down, he really does care about her even if he's not outwardly saying it)

Exactly. There's a lot of things he won't "outwardly say" before the end loll, but it starts here.

I loved their whole sex scene. It was a good mixture of sexy and humorous

Thank you!! I had fun with it, even though it was challenging for me, as every smut scene is for me. 😅 I like how this one came together though, so I'm glad you did too! 💕

Chapter 8:

^^Looks like they're starting to fall for each other <3

Ahh yes, though neither one would admit it if their lives depended on it. 😂

I really loved the dynamic between Ben and her in this one. I liked that there's some push and pull between them. Giving them little glimpses, but at the same time, still hiding certain things because of the vulnerability that it provides. I especially loved when he shared his favorite thing about his mother - her voice. I think that's why he's very intrigued by reader (at least that's the impression I'm getting)

There's a lot of give and take right? Thank you for mentioning "vulnerability," because that's what they're dipping into here, two steps forward, one step back. And I'm glad you like the connection with his mother and the reader, as that's probably one of the only people in Ben's life that he truly loved. So it's subliminally drawing ties for him from the reader to his mother -- especially through her voice.

Chapter 9:

Oh ALL the mixed feelings in this chapter, I get it. 😂 Who tf do you root for in this situation?

And yes, Ben is seriously catching feelings and his actions show it, even if the reader can't tell just yet.

Chapter 10:

^^This made me a lot sadder than I thought it would. Cause she made such a connection with him and here he is in a cooler DEAD. And Ben is just sitting here like, "oh yeah they're...busy...." cause Ben sure as fuck knows that she's gonna be so freaking upset if she finds out

You get it! Exactly. 😭😭

^^BECAUSE SHE'S FALLING FOR YOU, YOU IDIOT

Facts, girl. And Ben's a huge dummy in this chapter. 😂 But he's hurt and lashing out, as injured pride does.

Ben walking in on her sleeping and see her basically fighting for her life when she was dreaming just broke my heart

Ugh, it was hard to write that scene tbh. I debated whether I should have her wake up and find him in her room, but I liked the idea of him comforting her without knowing he was there.

I think it gives us as readers more heartbreak when she remains icy with him later on in the plane, and Ben seems to be his usual asshole self about it. Like "we know how you really feel motherfucker. Why are you being like this?!"

Meanwhile, Butcher had appeared on the tarmac. With a rocket launcher, naturally.  ^^laughed out loud at this one

Lmfao I loved writing Butcher in this, tbh. He's a gem of a character. (And by "gem" I mean deeply fucked in the head, just like SB.)

Chapter 11:

Jon is father of the year honestly (sarcasm obviously)

Ugh, Jon was the worst. I based him off John Winchester, though obviously a much worse one, with far more physical and psychological abuse up his sleeve.

They may be in prison but at least they have each other!

Right? 😂 They're totally fucked, but at least they're together.

I'm gonna miss Frank <3 he was one of my favs

Hehee. 😏

Their little fucking jokes to each other killed me xD

Hahaha I love that you loved it!! I had so much fun with that part, esp the "6 afraid of 7" joke.

When he asked her to sing *SWOON* he truly does love her voice. I love the fact that singing is something that seems to make him feel better cause that's what he remembers his mother doing <3

Thank you so much for shouting out this dynamic. 😭😭 This was one of my favorite things about their relationship and connection.

Chapter 12:

^^I couldn't agree more. Yes he may be an asshole at times but he's not a bad guy (maybe a little misguided sometimes but he's not an awful person). From what I learned through school and my job, people react to trauma differently

So this is just my take on Ben's character, but I think his trauma (tortured for 40 years) actually softened him. I think before 1984, he was probably a massive asshole. Literally the original of asshole supes, selfish, prideful, violent (i.e. Black Noir), male ego at its worst.

The entire Payback team was scared of him. They didn't want to get on his bad side (or "get in his way"). He strut around like the king of his own kingdom, the big swinging dick in the room at all times.

...And yet, he let himself be manipulated by Vought because he enjoyed the fame and the money and the false power it gave him. (Hence Stan Edgar's "true power" monologue with Annie.)

But I think those 40 years gave him a lot to think about. And I think the reader's sympathy and relating to him gave him a reason to soften for her.

“Suck on my balls, sweetheart,” he retorted. He cocked his head to the side.  “Oh wait, you did. Last Tuesday.”  You glared at him with a hot blush spreading across your face. That was not, in fact, last Tuesday. But you didn’t rise to his bait. ^^I almost spat my fucking drink out xD

LMFAO and then we have moments like this. 🤣🤣

I'M SORRY FRANK?! *hello plot twist!!!!*

Hahahaa yess, I love a plot twist! 😜

Frank: "I ain't dead yet!!"

Chapter 13:

“Young lady. I don’t like that,” she said, with all due side eye.  “You don’t like anything, Mother,” you quipped. ^^busted out laughing at this

Lmfao the classic "conservative mom."

Frank huffed. “I think the kids are calling it Frenemies with Benefits.”  ^^Gotta love Frank "trying" to help

Hahaaa oh Frank. He really gives no fucks. 🤣

Chapter 14:

“Alert the media,” you said. “We’ve got the ultimate weapon against Soldier Boy: a slow ride on his dick.” ^^ANOTHER GREAT FUCKING LINE

LOLL "Alert the media" was probably my favorite for this chapter. 🤣

Ben and her had such a lovely morning together getting it on in the kitchen and now they're arguing about the logistics of kid supes being a threat or not because they're supes (Ben you are a supe too my guy, people would consider you a threat - that's real "the pot calling the kettle black")

Oh majorly! But that's kind of his point. He's a supe and he knows he's dangerous. Supes are fair game to him, in a sense, which is part of the reason why he's taken pains to control his strength with her. It's a double standard she calls him out on.

^^I don't know why, but this section really spoke to me

I'm so glad it did! Even now, Ben's struggling to figure her out and how she sees him.

Chapter 15:

Cigars have such a special place in my heart. Even though I hate the smell of cigarette smoke, I like the smell of cigar smoke because my Pop Pop loved his cigars and the smell or mention of them always reminds me of him <3 so this little piece of Ben and her "sharing" the cigar got me all warm and fuzzy <3

Aww I love that so much! Cigars are nostalgic for sure. 🥹

Chapter 16:

This is the first time I've genuinely felt bed for Jon. I'll give him credit, he really did try and fix things in the end (but it was little too late sadly). Happy that he admitted that she was strong "in spite of him" <3

Yeesss I'm glad I was able to achieve that (for the drama of it all). but yeah it was very "day late dollar short." The "in spite of him" line was probably my second favorite line for this chapter, just for how it highlights what the reader as overcome in her life (her inner strength vs. Ben's).

The fact that she has a piece of rebar in her should and she's the one asking are you okay made me laugh so fucking hard like girl (to be fair, I'd the same way xD)

Lmao ever the "giver" mentality. 😂

^^"What would the love of my life do in this moment" is just icing on the cake for me <3

Haha oh Ben, he's trying at least! 😅

“You are strong. You can do anything you want, you know,” you said, smiling wryly. “Including, being a better man.”  ^^No...I'm not crying....(yes i'm tearing up)

And that one was my actual favorite line to write for this chapter. 🥹🥹🥹

PS. Yes, I did catch your Captain America reference <3

Hahaa yesss!! ❤️💙🤍

Chapter 17:

Love a little Hughie & Butcher moment <3

I had to include it! 🥹 I love their broship.

^^It started out as character development and then turned into, "I need to save the woman I love" and I don't know how to feel

You were meant to be conflicted there loll. 😂 On one hand, great that he's actually thinking of her wishes. But also he doesn't want to let her die. He's trying to make the best of a bad situation, before Frank hits him with the ultimate choice...

HE'S DONATING HIS BLOOD TO HER HOLYYYYYY

You are a hero Ben <3

Isn't he though? Holding up the Tower was just Part 1 of his hero test. this was the true ultimate test: what he's willing to sacrifice (letting a public hospital have his DNA so he can save her life).

^^MY HEART. I just *heart eyes* They really are going to be living that apple pie life together uh? <3

They really are! ...Well, after they get some emotional relationship hurdles jumped in the last chapter. 😅

The Epilogue:

^^BEN FOR THE LOVE OF GOD CALL HER YOUR GIRLFRIEND

IKR? What a dick. But he has his reasons as you saw (understandable ones, but not excuses that he can't overcome for her sake).

The fact that she asked if he even loved her cause he hasn't said in once in the entire time they've known each other really breaks my heart cause like he truly, really does love her. But what kills me is he thinks that buying her stuff is what love is (at least from what I'm reading) also breaks my heart cause like, that's what he's used to growing up in such a rich household. Love is more than buying things for someone and living with them

Absolutely! 😭 This is the crux of it. Ben's learning that love is more than just your actions, and it's not just material or where you live. It's your words as well.

“Nah, man,” he said ruefully. “That’s true motherfuckin’ love.” ^^See, MM gets it xD

And he just about sums up the whole series! 😂😂

^^There's a lot to unpack here before this statement: I can see his point because in his own weird way he did love Crimson Countess and she royally fucked him over. He thought that she loved him back and she didn't, out of fear/fame (like you had stated and the show clearly showed as well), and his father also told him how much of a disappointment he was so he really didn't know what actual love was until he met her. And I think that really scares him, that someone actually does love him despite everything that he has done and actually gave him a fucking chance. Someone that knows there's actual honest to God good in him

"He didn't really know what love was until he met her." <- That's exactly it. And it does scare him, that she genuinely sees him for himself, and wants to be with him anyway. He realizes now what a massive thing it is for someone to love him. And he's just as scared to lose her one day.

^^This fucking got me xD also, the idea of Ben wearing a condom makes me fucking laugh and I have no idea why

Because it's preposterous. 🤣🤣 Ben's got literally no shame, and don't give a fuck. But she knew what she was getting into with him. 😂😂

Final Thoughts:

This whole series was a fucking roller coaster and I enjoyed every single minute of it. The way you write Ben just seems so organic and really true to his character. The character development didn't seem out of nowhere. There was actual reasoning toward the way he feels and the actions that he did. You could see how slowly the two of them started to feel comfortable with each other and how they were both hesitant to do so.

Thank you, my love!! 💞💞 I started writing Ben with "Checkerboard." But I didn't truly feel like I had my interpretation of the character solidified until maybe chapter 4 or 5, to be honest. I revised these chapters so many times I lost count of the versions, all to try and make sure I had his voice, his characterization, his mannerisms as close as possible to what we saw on the show. And the pacing of their slow-burn relationship as believable as possible in the "enemies to lovers" dynamic.

One of my favorite character developments was him giving her a blood transfusion instead of the Temp V because he knew that was something she wouldn't have wanted. "He respected her wishes," I think was the line, and it made me happy to see that. They may not have the most perfect relationship but no relationship is perfect.

Yes that was the line! And that was what I thought his ultimate test of realizing what the reader was trying to tell him in Chapter 9, about collateral damage and taking responsibility for his strength. And if you care about her, prove it.

Their relationship is "perfectly imperfect." Perfect for them and what they are together as deeply flawed people.

You really made me wish that Frank & Loco were characters on the TV show because their vibes were just perfect. They really fit in <3

Aww thank you, lovely!! Like I said, I absolutely love this compliment, and it's high praise for side characters. One of my favorite writing tips I've ever gotten is "write minor characters like they are the protagonist of their own stories." So that's what I try to do. 🥰

And I'm also happy that not only Ben and her got a happy ending but Frank did too as he was finally able to go home to his daughter <3

Yes! Absolutely proper closer for Frank. Because let's be honest, he's the real hero of the story. 🤣🤣

Thank you again for reading and reviewing this massive beast of a story. It's one of my favorites that I've been able to create on here, and I'm so fucking glad you enjoyed it. 💓💓💓

Series Masterlist - Break Me Down

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

AN: For those of you who enjoyed “Checkerboard,” here’s the requested prequel series! It’s gonna be a long road to get to that version of Soldier Boy. Technically this is an AU set post-season 3.

Series Tags/Warnings: **Rated M. (18+ only.) Enemies to frenemies to lovers. Angsty, messy, moral quandaries galore. This is a romance, but it’s a dark world with morally gray and dark characters, including Soldier Boy, of course. **Smut, language, misogyny, violence, and other chapter-specific tags.

Chapters:

Prologue

Part 1 - The Game Begins

Part 2 - You Move Me, Baby

Part 3 - Somewhere Down Below

Part 4 - On the Inside Out

Part 5 - Morning, Night & Day

Part 6 - A Hot Meal

Part 7 - Until Midnight

Part 8 - Something in the Way

Part 9 - Breach

Part 10 - Caught in the Balance

Part 11 - The Lion's Den

Part 12 - All Your Wicked Ways

Part 13 - A Generous Deal

Part 14 - Safe House

Part 15 - The Tower

Part 16 - Soldier Boy

Part 17 - More Than Words Can Say

Epilogue - All My Living Time

Series Complete!

Read More In the BMD-Verse:

Not done reading this version of Soldier Boy x Reader? Well, there's more to their story.

(**Denotes 18+ only)

Love Actually** Ben gets in late on Christmas Eve with a Grinch-like attitude, but you’re determined to force some holiday cheer into his system.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 - Complete

Checkerboard** You’re not a supe. You’re breakable. Soldier Boy sometimes forgets that.

Strong As Blood** - (Soldier Boy x Reader) After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out? 

(In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)

Part 1 || Part 2 - Complete

Moodboard below created by @chernayawidow:

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Tag List:

Comment below or send me an ask if you'd like to be tagged on future one-shots in this series! And want to be tagged on more stuff (like everything Soldier Boy)?

Here's my Tag List.

[akane171]

Haha, yess😍 Home alone with your brain and some dramatic music is the best setting for good ideas tl be born😉😉

Aah, yes, okay🤔 Lol, you really like soldier!Mon, huh?😂 Tho it does really fit S3!him incredibly well🤔😍😂🙈

Hmmm, good question🤔🤔 Kinda depends on if we're talking just about the usual pets or ALL animals🤔😂

Eh, thankfully not INSIDE, no, tho pet mice would be AWE and SOME 😍😅😅🙈

Alura saw that those two basically happily married anyway😌😉 I still wonder if Winn&Mon got that drink together that Winn said they should get after all that🤔🤔

Ohh, Yeah! Hmm🤔 I love the idea of protective Zor, but considering how he was yet another lost puppy at Catco and how funny I'd be, I think best buddies Zor&Mon would be SO amazing😂😂 

Hm, I was thinking along the lines of accident (maybe they and Winn's kid were messing with some weird stuff and the Karamel kiddos ended up in the past?) but a mix of both would be fun as well, like, imagine the kiddos accidently stumbling into the past and realizing that some details are horribly wrong (e.g., maybe that Robot was never supposed to show up originally and someone is messing with the timeline?) and need to get their parents back together if they don't want themselves and their (very happy, karamel-ly) future to vanish into nothing🤔🤔😅😂

Well, I've only seen fan-edits and a couple of scenes, so dunno, tho it really looks like a wasted very good opportunity🤔 Haha, yes, maybe that should just become an official club😅🙈 ...Still glad I barely watched those, but lol, for a sec my brain went to Stargate at the "SG", not Supergirl and I was so confused about what exactly you meant😅😂

Oh god...Those ladies as lawyers would be TERRIFYING!!😅😅🙈 Huh, music industry? I don't think I've seen such an AU setting before🤔😂

Yeah...Let's just hope for the best while we look at the half-empty glass and try to tell ourselves it's half-full 😉🤣🤦🏻‍♀️🙈

Eh, sor-🤦🏻‍♀️ Uhm, maybe?🙈🤷🏻‍♀️😅

Haha, lol, imagine it didn't and you turned into an undead, brain-eating Zombie, singing "What's in your heeaaaaddd? What's in your heeeeeeeaaad? Zommmbiiiieee, zombiieee, zoo-ombi-i-ieeee"😂😂 (Okay, no, let's forget this, my brain is being weird again😅🙈🤦🏻‍♀️)

Btw, wanna switch this over to Discord, too, or keep it here? Whatever you're more comfortable with!🙈

XXX

Do you recall the movie Home Alone? So yeah, being alone is cool, without assholes trying to rob your house xD

It does. Or i read/watched too many military fiction. But seriosuly, Mon in s3, with his mastered dead-inside-man-face, just fit a dude with a major PTSD problem and you can't change my mind. Or dunno, maybe being in a content marriage does shit like that to people *rolls eyes*

All animals. Waiting.

...mhm. You know they have small sharp teeth, right?

Alura and Eliza, two moms right after sensing what their daughter refuses to see. Love them both.

Hopefully they did. One of the many things we will never know *gross sobbing*

I remember Peggy's fic when they all went for vacations and Mon gave Zor THE TALK and I think I still didn't recover form this awesomness.

Cool. It could be a hilarious slash dramatic slash angsty story, because the kids facepalming about their parents being blind idiots in love would be a A+ game xD

I think the writers were afraid of some shippers too xD From what I have seen they had a smilar problem with ship wars in that fandom.

Oh, you are a stargate fan too? I downloaded the first season and wait for some free time to watch it. I also downloaded Farscape, so generally speaking i'm going to dive into classic sci fi shows soonish xD

they would be awesome lawyers xD

Oh, I had a music fic idea in my head. Kara being kicked out of a girls pop band - thanks to Lobotomizer who is jealous of Kara's amazing vocal skills. And kara ends drunk in a bar where Eve finds her. Eve is a girflriend of Winn, who is manager of a symphonic power metal (don't mind my metal loving ass xD) band, where Mon-El is the lead guitarist. The main vocal of the bad kicked their asses and left the band just before they started touring with a new album and they are fucked if they don't find replaement. And well, none candidate is good enough and then Eve drags runken Kara to their place, they recognize a pop girl and are imediatelly NO FUCKING WAY, she is pissed off and screams and tehy are like... oh, she can scream.... Later Kara wakes up in her apartment, with aching head and some asshole knokicng to the door. It's Mon-El who came to take her to rehersal. What rehersal? He shows her a signed by her contract that makes her a part of the metal band, yay! And you can imagine the troubles along the way xD Thought about making Kara being taught by Cat Grant in the past, who was a classical vocal teacher and Cat being dissapointed when Lena asked Kara to join her band. And Kara really spreading her wings in the new position etc. And of course karamel bickering along the way, fans being super sceptical but warming up to her, because her vocal is amazing and karamel falling in love etc. Oh, and imagine Kara asking the badn what she should wear on the stage and they are like, dunno, wear whatever you want, and she wears some pink things xD and the crowd when they first sees her is like O.O and then she starts singing and all are floored.

Sorry for karamel ranting xD

yay....

I am a mushroom, so i can be a zombie mushroom, why the hell not?!!!

We can switch to discord with this madness if you want xD

[musicallisto]

Oh wow! I cannot imagine a universe where physics is my favourite subject 😅 but I definitely know how you feel about the endless tunnel that is university! Fingers crossed you get some time to have a break over this festive period! 🤞

Also an exam on a Saturday? That feels morally illegal 😖 but i’m glad its a subject you enjoy! I feel like those are much easier to revise for so I’m sure you’ll smash it!

Oooh! I would say send me a picture of your tree when its complete if you like but im not really sure how the logistics of that will work with the whole 25 days of anonymity! I’m sure it will be really pretty though! I got to decorate a tree at work last night and it was so much fun!

A carousel! That sounds actually magical! We’ve got a Ferris Wheel in our main square but they weren’t able to put the ice rink up under the tree because of covid regulations :(

No way! They ATL were my #2 this year as well! I only used Spotify for the first 3 months of this year though so my wrapped is a little off 😂

I’m exactly the same! I swear these past few years people have been listening to all their comfort bands from when they were 14 and I can’t tell if its pandemic blues or because we’re all turning 20 soon 😖

Favourite song is literally impossible but I listen to the Nothing Personal the most I think, quickly followed by Don’t Panic - how about you?

I’ve never seen them live! But a girl I went to school with did so she recorded part of weightless for me which was so sweet! I hope I can see them one day! How about you? Have you seen them live or are you hoping to?

Sending all my love in the very long message! ❤️❄️

* ˚ ✦ sorry for how long I took to answer this ask, I've been very busy! it's always nice to see you in my ask box though and I hope you're doing great xx

an exam on Saturday feels morally illegal and extremely reprehensible but it is what it is unfortunately, and I can def tell you they're starting to take their toll. all I want is to crawl in bed with a hot chocolate and a good movie... which makes me think: do you have any movie recs? specifically comforting movies, like romcoms or musicals or just nostalgic movies? I think I'm going to need a little bit of fuel for the rest of the month and I've run out of ideas. and you have great taste in music, so I'm assuming it's the case as well for movies!

I have seen them live, back in 2017! one of the most magical moments in my entire life, I've rarely felt as happy and free as I did that night. man, I miss concerts so bad 😢 my favorite album is undoubtedly Don't Panic, and I listen to Future Hearts and Nothing Personal quite a lot as well. I'd say my favorite song by them is The Reckless & The Brave, which they didn't play when I saw them unfortunately... but at least they replaced it with Take Cover and I felt privileged to hear such an underrated song live. also, Weightless live was definitely an amazing moment, but so was Therapy! and Kids in the dark! all of their songs are incredible tbh and I hope you are able to see them live someday!

and about the Christmas installations - an ice skating ring sounds so cool! I've never gone iceskating, but I suspect I would be absolute garbage at it. A friend of mine tried teaching me how to rollerblade when I was a kid and I couldn't for the life of me stand upright, so if iceskating is anything like it I don't think it's my true calling lol. but I'd love to try it!

[brummiereader]

@mischievouslittlecreature Asher 🥰. He's such a good boy!

That four legged fur baby was such a joy to read about when he took note of his mum as she internally battered herself 😩.

Lucy watched Tommy where he was perched on the arm of a couch and talking to Lizzie, feeling her heart squeeze painfully, quickly looking away. Urghh I hate it, I hate it, I hate it! It was ok in canon because there was no one else. But in this story, which honestly feels more realistic than the canon series 😍, I couldn't stand the image of this. It's just heartbreaking. I get increasingly pissed of at Tommy when he even talks to Lizzie lol. I know it's just a messy situation, and not really his fault, but it hurts me to see Lucy this way. I'm waiting for the day he experiences the same feelings of insecurities, jealousy and heartbreak as she does right now, Lilly! You gotta give us a jealous, moody Tommy to compensate for the the torment you're putting our dear Lucy through 😂.

She sat up a little when the room quieted so that Tommy and Arthur could each make toasts. At Tommy’s comment of being in a happier place, paired with a quick glance towards Lizzie, she swallowed painfully. Oof no, fuck that 😩! Arthur should never make speeches, look what happens when he does 😭.

I'm glad Lizzie is making an effort, and I thought it quite sweet how she approached them with a deck of cards to play a game. But her attitude always has me on edge as much as it has Lucy on edge. I feel like she could completely change her tune at any minute and start making her passive aggressive remarks again. Hmmm, I hope they both stay on their toes with her, and I REALLY hope, Tommy doesn't begin to underestimate her pettiness.

No, treacle, I didn’t know they took ya. If I did, I…” his eyes moved to the bandages that poked out from under the hem of her shirt. “That wouldn’t have happened. Ahhh I love how he talks to her 😩❤️. Which only makes this scene even more upsetting for Lucy. Although I don't know much about their relationship, it's clear that their genuine friends that care deeply about the other. But the famous line from the Godfather "it's not personal, it's just business" feels appropriate in this scene.

“We have to go back for the fucking dog.” Tommy heaved. - “We should take the dog,” Lucy spoke at the same time. They shared a look, then a small nod of agreement, and turned around to gather up Cyril’s lead and wrangle him with them towards the car. I love that you added this part, because this is exactly what I imagined happened. I would bet money on Tommy just coming to a stop with a huffy "fuck", knowing he's gotta go and get the dog 😂. Just one more animal to their growing zoo 🤭!

They’d both been drinking more. And his stash of opium for the pipe that they sometimes shared, usually enough to last nearly half the year, was already almost depleted. Most nights one or both of them woke up screaming. Ahh, loving the shared despair! And how they both were mutually going through the horrors, spiralling down together. It feels very intune to their whole relationship and their codependency. When one falls, the other rapidly falls after them. Even though it was a powerful scene to read, i think it was the fact that little Charlie saw his parents in this way that ultimately had them stop. They love that boy so much, enough to force themselves out of the pits.

The smut scene was so beautifully written. I'm honestly relieved they've been able to get back to that point where she feels comfortable enough to be intimate with him. They're both so passionate, so obsessed with the other that It would almost feel unnatural to not read about them in this way.

“Lucy, do you remember when you asked me if I’d ever thought about entering politics?” ahh shit, here we go 🤦🏼‍♀️😂. This line reminded of the scene with Freddie and Ada when she says about the moment his balls are empty it's back to politics 😅. Freddie and Tommy are more alike than they'll ever admit! But the problem with this line means...a tonne load more of problems are coming there way. One of the biggest, Tommy's marriage to Lizzie 😬.

Amazing chapter, hun! Can't wait to catch up on the latest one you posted as soon as possible 😍.

Part 21: The Shadow of the Abattoir

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: The vendetta may be over, but peace is still but a distant dream for both of them. 

Word Count: 5,769

Notes: Warnings for depictions of trauma, chronic pain, insecurity, smut, and references to torture and pregnancy.

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Chapter 28: Scarlet Fog

She sat huddled in a corner, watching the celebrations occurring around her as distantly as if she was looking in through the window. She supposed, in a way, that she might as well have been. No one had really paid her any attention throughout the entire gathering.

They were all assembled in one of the big sitting rooms in Arrow House, drinking and chatting and laughing. Lucy watched Tommy where he was perched on the arm of a couch and talking to Lizzie, feeling her heart squeeze painfully, quickly looking away. 

She would have to get used to that: seeing them together. Side by side as their own little unit while she was pushed aside.  

At least Tommy finally seemed happy again.

How horrible did it make her, that she found herself half longing for the time when it had just been her, him, and Charlie?

Of course she did not want Tommy to be miserable. Of course she did not want him and his family to be estranged. Things were better this way, of course they were. She could take it; feeling like she was an outsider encroaching where she was not wanted. Like she was not as valued. Not loved. She’d done it before, prior to the schism between him and the rest of the Shelbys. She could do it again. 

At her feet, as if sensing her thoughts, Asher whined, raising his head. She gave him a tiny smile, reaching out to scratch him behind the ear. His tail thumped against the rug, looking up at her as if to say, I still love you, Mommy.

He’d been glued to her side since they came home, protective on account of her still healing injuries. She was grateful for his presence and companionship. Being alone had gotten a lot harder than it had been previously. 

She supposed she would have to get used to it just being her and the animals for stretches of time. Moments spent alone with Tommy would get even rarer after Lizzie’s baby arrived. Lucy couldn’t help but wonder if she would see much of him at all. 

She sat up a little when the room quieted so that Tommy and Arthur could each make toasts. At Tommy’s comment of being in a happier place, paired with a quick glance towards Lizzie, she swallowed painfully, trying hard not to read too much into the look, and failing miserably. 

Surely it had to be coming soon. The inevitable. When Tommy sat her down and gently told her to pack her things. That he could no longer be with her. Because he loved someone else. And that someone else had demanded he chose between them. And of course he was going to choose the one he was already having a baby with. Who was loved by his family. Who wasn’t broken beyond repair. Who he could actually have a chance at a happy future with. 

As if sensing her thoughts, Asher nudged at her knee with his nose, trying to draw her attention away from the ache in her heart. With stilted movements, she reached down to stroke his soft black fur. 

Next was Arthur’s toast. A dreaded look crossed Tommy’s face at his brother’s insistence that he take a holiday. The expression only deepened when Arthur raised his glass to peace. Lucy wondered if Tommy was thinking the exact same thing that she was: there would be no peace for them. Not now; not ever. Not with the things that lived eternally inside their heads. 

Once the toasts were done, everyone began slowly making their way towards the doors leading into the dining room. Lucy made no move to follow them, just shrinking tighter in on herself in her little corner whenever someone wandered past her. 

“Lucy?”

At the sound of Tommy’s voice, closer to her than she’d expected–she had figured he’d just head straight into the dining room with Lizzie–she looked up. Those blue eyes of his were fixed on her questioningly, shuffling a little closer to her while everyone else drew further away towards the other room. Tommy cocked his head. 

“Are you coming?”

Drawing in a shaky breath, she shook her head. Fingers still carding mindlessly through Asher’s fur, trying to focus on the soft pelt to keep herself grounded. “I’m not hungry.”

Tommy sank down into the vacant spot next to her on the couch. “Are you in pain?”

“No. I’m just tired.” Only half the truth. Her cuts and shoulders were starting to ache a little.

He frowned, one hand moving to rest on the cushions behind her back. “You’ve barely eaten since we got back, sweetheart.” When she didn’t say anything, he scooted closer to her. “You need to eat.”

“I’m fine.” Eager to change the topic, she swirled the remainder of whiskey in her glass before downing it, mind fishing for something else to talk about. “What did Lizzie have to say?”

“Nothing all that interesting. Just some things about a few renovations that she wants to make to her house.” She could feel Tommy’s worried eyes still fixed intently on her. 

“This’ll be the first holiday you’ve taken in awhile. What do you think you’ll do?”

“I don’t know.”

Her gaze drew back to Lizzie where she was standing by the doorway, smiling and chatting animatedly with Polly. She’d been nicer to her since the kidnapping, but Lucy couldn’t help but feel a constant level of tension when around her, waiting at any moment for her to have said or done the wrong thing that would cause Lizzie to snap at her. “You should use it to spend time with her. Could even move into her house for a little while.” She looked down at her empty glass, in desperate need of a refill. “Be there for all the big moments in the pregnancy and everything.”

“And leave you here all alone?” Tommy asked. The worry she’d sensed in his gaze had leaked into his voice.

“I’d survive.” A lie, she was pretty sure, but he didn’t need to be burdened with that. 

“You’re still healing.”

“I’m not an invalid.”

“I know, but…I don’t want to leave you by yourself. If I have to take a bloody holiday, I’d rather spend it with you.”

Sighing, she kept her gaze glued to the floor until Tommy’s hand forced her head up, his icy blue eyes boring into hers, trying to read her mind. 

“I am not leaving you alone.”

“But you should–”

“Fuck what I should do!” His throat flexed, eyes darting towards the doorway to make sure no one had heard him. Drawing in a deep breath to steady himself, he looked at her, jaw set in that stubborn way she knew meant she’d have better luck picking up an entire mountain than getting him to change his mind. “I’m not leaving your side. End of discussion.”

Shaky sigh leaving her lips, Lucy nodded defeatedly. The back of Tommy’s hand stroked over her cheek. The rest of the family had wandered out the doorway, leaving them alone. 

“Please come to dinner.”

“No one wants me there anyway–”

“I do.”

For some reason, that made her feel like she was about to cry, leaning closer to his side unconsciously. When his fingers ran delicately through her hair, she closed her eyes. “Promise me you aren’t just saying that because you feel sorry for me.”

His fingers tightened a fraction where they’d come to rest on her shoulder. “I promise.” He turned her face to look at him. “I swear it on my mother’s grave. I want you with me always. Eh? Every second of every day.”

She closed her eyes, leaning into him, letting the words soothe her and abate the raging insecurities inside her. Even if only for a moment. 

“Come on,” his lips moved against the top of her head as he kissed her forehead. “Please don’t make me face them all alone.” His chin shifted against her head, cheek laying against her hair. She huffed out a tired, breathless laugh against his chest. 

“Alright. Since you asked so nicely.” 

He took hold of both her hands with a small smile, helping her to her feet and entwining their fingers as they began to follow the route that the rest of the family had taken out of the sitting room and into the dining area. Asher padded along beside them, his ears twitching every once in a while as he remained watchful and protective in demeanor. 

Tommy helped her into her seat next to him at the table, his ankle hooking around hers, the toe of his shoe every once in a while rubbing up and down along her shin whenever she started to get anxious.

Once the meal was over and everyone retired into the drawing room, she wound up seated on a couch with Tommy’s arm around her, her head resting lazily on his shoulder, trying not to doze off despite how tired she was. Lizzie eventually approached them timidly with a deck of cards, shyly proposing that they all play, and soon enough they had a lively game going amongst themselves and several family members. 

For a little while, she thought that things might actually get better. 

∗ ∗ ∗

Lucy quietly lamented the fact that she’d probably be picking little granules out of her socks on the drive back home as her boots sank into the sand. Overheard a seagull squawked, riding the cool wind that rushed over the beach. Waves roiled and crashed against the shore, lapping across the sand until they almost kissed the toe of her shoes. The sand where they were standing was damp, hardened over with moisture more so than the soft, dry mounds they’d had to traverse to approach the figure already standing on the otherwise abandoned beach when they arrived.

He was just looking out over the expanse of the waves, a huge bullmastiff seated next to him, his lead clutched in Alfie’s hand.

Lucy stared at her friend, confliction weighing heavily inside her. Despite everything, she still considered Alfie an important figure in her life. He’d helped to save her, a long, long time ago. And his position as an ally to the gang had brought with it significant advantages. But perhaps most importantly, she liked him. He was fun, and deep down she really did believe that he cared for her and Tommy. 

Just not enough to stop him from betraying them when the price was right.��

“Alfie, did you know that they took me?” she asked, voice hoarse. The salty wind whipped at strands of her hair, leaving them to dance around her face. Alfie, who until that moment had hardly turned his head to look at them, finally glanced over at her. 

“No, treacle, I didn’t know they took ya. If I did, I…” his eyes moved to the bandages that poked out from under the hem of her shirt. “That wouldn’t have happened.” He said, looking at her regretfully before turning back to stare at the rolling waves. Lucy swallowed painfully at the truth in his voice, a little of the weight lifting from her shoulders at knowing that her friend had, at the very least, not been involved in the horrors that had been enacted upon her. 

He and Tommy talked for a while more. Well, Alfie talked, Tommy mostly just listened, and then Tommy pulled out his gun from inside his coat. Lucy turned away, face contracting, unable to watch. 

The pieces fell into place at Alfie's revelation of his cancer diagnosis. So he’d wanted them to kill him, then. Or maybe he was just saying it so they wouldn’t feel so bad after it was done.   

She was still angled away from Alfie when he turned sharply on Tommy with his own gun, so she had no warning when a bullet suddenly skimmed across Tommy’s side. Tommy pulled the trigger of his own weapon on instinct, and a sizable chunk of Alfie’s face was blown off. Both men collapsed backwards onto the sand. 

“Tommy!” Lucy lurched towards him, ignoring the way that the sudden movement pulled on her stitches. Her knees hit the sand, trousers growing damp from the moisture as she knelt at Tommy’s side, hands hovering over his torso. He groaned softly, legs kicking in the sand, damp granules sticking to the side he’d fallen on. 

“I’m alright,” he mumbled, hand going to his side. Blood stained his palm when he drew it away. “I’m alright, it just grazed me.”

Lucy glanced over her shoulder at where Alfie laid on his back, unmoving. Cyril was whining softly in distress, nosing at Alfie’s face. 

“I think he’s dead,” she said softly, not wanting to go over and actually check. Tommy swiped a hand down his face, gripping her hand to let her help pull him from the ground. She eyed his side worriedly. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

He drew his coat in tighter around himself, suddenly looking very small and fragile. “I’m fine,” but his voice was anything but, rough and rasping in his throat. He took one look at Alfie’s body and cringed away, arms squeezing tighter around himself. Lucy watched as his head bowed, sorrow etching onto his features. For a second she thought that he was going to cry. “Come on.” With a jerk of his head, he gestured for them to head back towards where they’d parked the car. 

Shuffling to follow him, she curled close to his side, the pair of them beginning to slow trek off of the beach. The lump in her throat kept building every time she looked back at the figure splayed out in the sand. A few sniffles left her, and she hastily wiped her nose on her sleeve.  

“He fired to force you to shoot him,” she noted quietly as they walked. With how close they’d been, there was no way that Alfie would have missed his shot like that if he’d actually wanted to cause Tommy legitimate harm. 

“Yes.”

She tightened her arms around his bicep, cheek squishing against the soft material of his coat as she sought refuge from the chilly air against him.  

They got about halfway down the beach before they both stopped at the same time. 

“We have to go back for the fucking dog.” Tommy heaved. 

“We should take the dog,” Lucy spoke at the same time. They shared a look, then a small nod of agreement, and turned around to gather up Cyril’s lead and wrangle him with them towards the car.  

∗ ∗ ∗

Three months passed. 

Lucy healed slowly, the scabs of her injuries scarring over into rough, pale bumps on her otherwise smooth skin.

Tommy knew that she was horribly self conscious of them. Really, he was pretty sure that she thought them far worse than they actually were. She was still beautiful to him, even if the sight of the criss-crossed marks all over her back triggered sorrow and guilt to wash over him at the reminder of the pain she’d gone through.  

Slowly, she was able to do more. The stitches were removed and the bandages came off. Her shoulders were still giving her trouble, but according to the doctor, that would always be the case. He tried his best to help her, giving her massages and bringing her ice packs on the days that the pain was particularly bad. Applying salves that Polly sent over to help relax and soothe the muscles. By all accounts, she was considered healed. At least physically. 

And yet she was worrying him. Hell, he was worrying him. 

Golf. Fishing. Both were things he’d heard that other men liked to do on holiday, but he only got to the sixth hole at the golf course before throwing his club across the green field, not out of frustration, but from sheer boredom. The entire game was so…useless. Lucy had raised her eyebrows at him from where she was leaning against the little green plaque that displayed the hole number. 

“You know you’re supposed to hit the ball with the club, right?” she’d asked. Tommy shook his head, yanking out a few notes to pass to the caddy carrying his clubs. 

“We’re going home,” he mumbled, draping his arm around her as they started the walk to the car. “This is ridiculous.”

Fishing hadn’t fared much better. They’d been sitting by the bank, Lucy leaning into his side, eyes staring numbly out at the pond. For a second, the world was quiet and peaceful. 

But the silence only made things worse. There was no sound to drown out the noises in his head. The horses and gunshots; the screams of men dying around him. 

An explosion suddenly boomed around them, and he dove to the ground, taking Lucy with him as he sent them both crashing half into the pond in an attempt to use the bank as a source of cover against enemy fire. One of his hands curled over his head while his body pressed hers to the ground, attempting to shield her from the perceived danger. It wasn’t until more sounds–gunshots, not explosions like he’d originally thought–and the barking of hounds, erupted nearby that he realized it was simply a hunting party passing by, and not the war returned with the intention of swallowing him whole. 

“Tommy?” Lucy asked, voice quiet. She had grabbed onto the front of his shirt in surprise, her eyes wide. 

“Shit.” He leaned off of her, water sloshing around his legs, damp grass and dirt clinging to his arms where he’d rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. “Sorry.” He couldn’t quite meet her gaze, embarrassment burning its way across his cheeks.

“It’s okay.” She made no move to pull away, despite now standing nearly up to her waist in water thanks to him. Her head cocked a little when he flinched at another echoing crack of gunfire from the hunters. But she didn’t say anything, just reached out to flatten her palm on his chest. “Sweetheart?”

He finally snapped his head around to look at her. Fear suddenly seized at him as he processed how he’d practically grabbed and thrown her into the pond with him. “Fuck, did I hurt you?”

“What? No,” she shook her head. “I mean…my socks are wet now, but other than that, I’m fine.”

He’d helped her up out of the water, and quickly gathered together the fishing gear so they could head home. The fish weren’t biting anyway, and he didn’t want her sitting around in wet socks and trousers and catching a cold.  

They arrived home to find dinner ready for them at the table after they’d changed into dry clothes. Not that either of them touched most of it.  

Lucy had gotten almost as bad as him about eating. Where she once almost always cleaned her plate, she now often left it three fourths of the way full before pushing it away. And that was on the days that he was able to convince her to eat at all. Her body weight had dive bombed. She was even smaller than usual; so skinny it scared him a little. 

He could feel Frances watching them worriedly from the doorway, hands clasped together, lips set in a firm frown that only deepened when they both rose from the table and went into the drawing room to finish off their evening with two large bottles of whiskey and gin shared between them. 

They’d both been drinking more. And his stash of opium for the pipe that they sometimes shared, usually enough to last nearly half the year, was already almost depleted. Most nights one or both of them woke up screaming. He’d lost count of how many times he’d cradled her in his arms, rocking her gently against his chest, stroking her hair until she finally calmed enough to fall back into a fitful slumber. 

She’d draw him into bed to make love, only to push him away a few moments later, sobbing and burying her face in her hands. The phone would ring, but they never answered it. Even during the middle of the day, they kept the curtains drawn, the lights dimmed. Everything was easier in the dark.

They drank, and cried, and held each other, and drank some more. The cycle repeating over and over. He knew that they were both spiraling downwards into a deep dark well. But he did not know how to pull them out of it. 

Ultimately, it was not really him who gave the push for something to be done about things. It was Charlie. 

He was sprawled out on the floor, so drunk he was almost going cross eyed. Glass, from the objects he’d knocked to the floor during his tumble, had sliced into his palms, blood running in thin rivers down his hands. Lucy was kneeling beside him, reaching out to try to get a look at where he’d cut himself. Despite her movements being as uncoordinated as his thanks to her equally drunken state. Her makeup was a smudged mess around her eyes, black smears trailing down her cheeks from when she’d been crying earlier. 

The door creaked open, and Charlie peeked his little head in, and their eyes met. A look, not of sorrow or confusion, but complete, all encompassing disappointment crossed his little boy’s features as he took in the image sprawled out before him. Tommy swore that there was a hint of contempt in there as well.

“Charlie,” he choked out, trying–and failing–to scramble to his feet. Lucy’s head snapped around to fix on the boy, who was quickly ushered out by one of the maids. The door closed between them with a sharp, final click. 

Tommy managed to finally heave himself to his feat, injured arms crossed around his middle. Shame, hot and violent, bowled into him, and he folded at the waist, face collapsing in on itself as tears rushed into his eyes and began to stream down his cheeks. 

Never, never had he wanted Charlie to see them like this. But now he had, and that was something that would never be able to be undone. 

“Tommy,” Lucy pulled him into her arms, letting him bury himself in her chest while he mentally collapsed almost entirely on himself. Her fingers petted at the nape of his neck and down his back, trying to soothe him as he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed against her. 

The next day, he called Polly.  

∗ ∗ ∗

Lucy retreated to bed when Polly came over in the evening, mumbling something about being tired. Tommy didn’t try to stop her. She still felt so fragile, he was worried that if Polly took any of her usual swipes at her, it would cause her to only crumble further in on herself. So he’d just sent her off with a gentle kiss and a promise that he’d join her as soon as he could, watching to make sure that Asher followed her as she climbed the stairs.  

“Lizzie wants to see you,” Polly informed him not long after they sat down. Tommy’s stomach roiled with nausea, quickly looking away. 

“No.”

“Tom, she’s showing,” Polly tried again, but that just made the sick feeling in his stomach surge. The mental image of Lizzie’s belly protruding as his baby grew inside her elicited nothing in him but dread. The idea of having another child was completely overwhelming, and he was often struck with constant worry at how it would affect Lucy once the baby finally came and he would have no choice but to spend more time with Lizzie.  

He’d spent an awful lot of energy these past few months actively not thinking about Lizzie and the baby that would arrive in but a few short months' time. But Lucy…he had a feeling that Lucy spent far too much time thinking about them. She’d said some things, whispered mumbles while she was drunk, that made little sense to him. Things about how he should leave her. That she was bringing him nothing but unhappiness. How he could be happy with Lizzie if he just gave her a chance. He didn’t know if she was aware of the things she was saying, or if she even remembered uttering them after she’d sobered up. No matter how much he tried to soothe or contradict her statements, she always circled back to them. It was like an infection that was not actually getting cured, the symptoms only battered back for a little while by his reassurances before flaring up once again. He did not know how to entirely eradicate the insecurities brewing inside her.

“I don’t want to see Lizzie, Pol.” He looked down, ashamed at the words despite their truthfulness. He felt her looking him over, examining his reaction carefully. Ultimately realizing that now was not a good time to push the subject any further. 

“How’s Lucy?”

That got him to look up, brow lifting. “Since when do you care?”

Polly shifted awkwardly in her seat, it being her turn to look away. Tommy frowned, the almost apologetic look on Polly’s face uncharacteristic, especially when it came to anything involving Lucy. 

“Pol?”

 “Aberama says that I’ve been too hard on her,” Polly sighed. Tommy blinked, too stunned to speak for a moment. 

“You been talking with Aberama a lot lately?” he finally asked. Polly shrugged, squirming in place, clearly uncomfortable, looking for a way to dodge the question.

“How is she?” 

He wetted his lips, fingers twitching around his cigarette. “Not good.”

“Francis said that she isn’t eating.”

“I can count her ribs with my hands when I hold her.” He mumbled, glancing at the drawn curtains that hide the outside world from view. 

“After what Luca did to her, I can’t say that I’m surprised that she’s broken down. Took you right down along with her.”

He bristled. “It’s not her fault–”

“That’s not what I mean,” Polly shook her head. “What I mean is that, if she hadn’t fallen into the dark abyss, she would have been able to keep you from spiraling as well. Like she has before. You’re right. It’s not her fault. It was just shit timing, is all.”

“I don’t know how to pull her out of it, Pol.”

Polly fiddled with her fingers. “I think it’s time you both came back to work. Rattling around idly in here is clearly helping no one. Having something to focus your minds on will help.”

He nodded slowly, heaving out a breath. Polly stayed to talk for a little while longer, offering a few more sage words of advice before gathering up her things and leaving. After she was gone, Tommy spent a long stretch of time sitting and staring at nothing, the cogs in his head starting to slowly spin. 

Jamming his cigarette into the ashtray, he stood, making his way to the stairs and towards the bedroom that he shared with Lucy. 

She was already curled up under the covers, on her side with her hands pressed flat onto the pillow and her cheek resting atop them. Asher was laying in his dog bed in the corner, his big head on his paws, eyes watching them worriedly. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Tommy reached out a hand to rub across Lucy’s forearm. Her eyes opened slowly, head cocking against the pillows.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he moved his hand to stroke her face.

“How did it go?”

“Fine. She thinks we ought to go back to work.”

“Mm,” Lucy sat up slightly. “Probably not the worst idea.” 

“Mhm,” he moved his hand to play with her fingers, tracing the places where she’d picked a layer of skin away while nervously fidgeting. The nervous habit had thankfully mostly ceased since they’d gotten her a replacement set of rings for the ones Luca had taken from her. It was not until Tommy had first noticed the little scabs on her fingers that he realized the importance of her having something physical to busy her hands with. Otherwise she started picking at herself.

“You’re scaring me, love,” he said, doing his best to keep his tone gentle and non-accusatory. And yet still Lucy’s lower lip started to tremble, tears filling her eyes. 

“I know,” she whispered. “I know; I’m sorry. I…” her chest rose and fell deeply with her breaths. “I don’t know how to make it stop.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault,” his fingers curled loosely around her wrist. “We’ve both fallen apart these past few months.” He looked at her regretfully. “I’ve done a shit job at taking care of you.”

Lucy frowned, sitting up fully, reaching out to cup the side of his face. “That’s not true. You’ve kept me alive.”

“I think that’s the very definition of the bare minimum, love.”

She shook her head. “With where my mind has been at sometimes, Tommy, it’s no small thing that you’ve managed.”

He let her words sink in, both hands raising to take her face between his palms. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She gave him a weak, not wholly convinced smile, and he kissed her insistently. 

“I mean it. I love you.” Forehead laying on hers, he breathed in the scent of rose perfume that lingered on her skin. “We’ll get through this.”

“I love you too,” she whispered, angling her head up to kiss him again. Tommy trailed his hands carefully down her body, skimming them along the curves of her breasts, lowering to loosely hold her waist.

They’d had sex since the doctor deemed her fully healed. But he still felt the need to handle her as gently as possible; too worried about accidentally hurting her. The first time, he’d spent over an hour worshiping her body, placing kisses to each and every one of her scars, taking his time to make it clear that he still found her as heart-stopping beautiful as he did the first day that he saw her.  

He took the same care now, delicately undoing the ties on her nightgown and sliding it off of her shoulders, lips pressing into her soft skin, following the raised lines of her scars. A groan left his throat when her fingertips sank into his hair, massaging his scalp when he dropped his head to take one of her nipples into his mouth.

That grip on his hair only tightened deliciously as he advanced lower, laying her down on the bed and spreading her legs so that he could lay between them, nosing at her cunt, breathing in her delectable scent before leaning forward to swipe his tongue across her clit. 

Her sounds were so pretty as he ate her out, the hand in his hair helping to steer him to where she needed him most. Watching her through his lashes, Tommy had to stifle a smirk at the way her head fell back against the pillows when he sank a finger into her, crooking it so he was rubbing right up against the spot that made her moans go up a pitch. 

When she came on his mouth, he grabbed greedily at her thighs, lips parting in an attempt to drink her all in, begging for everything she had to offer him. 

“Fuck, come here,” she half pleaded when he raised up on his arms above her, reaching out to drag him closer, slotting their mouths together with her release still clinging to his lips. Her hands pulled at his clothes, his own moving eagerly to help her to remove them, covering her body with his once he was bare. 

“Ready?” he asked, hand wrapping loosely around his engorged cock, giving himself a few pumps before lining up. 

“Yes. Yes,” she chanted, arms winding around his neck. He entered her slowly, watching her face carefully for any sign of discomfort while he pushed forward. The warm embrace of her cunt remained to be like nothing else he’d ever experienced before, her walls hugging around him, so tight and perfect there was to be no doubt that they’d been made for each other. 

The combined sounds of their pleasure echoed throughout the room as they started to move. Lucy’s head tipped forward, burying in his neck, her soft lips brushing against the sensitive skin. His eyes rolled in his head everytime she squeezed around him, and he slipped an arm under her to rest between her shoulder blades while he rocked into her steadily. He kept his thrusts at an even, gentle pace, taking care to go slow with her. She knew that she could stop him at any time if she needed, and no matter how lost he may have been in his own pleasure, he always took care to be mindful of her reactions to his movements, on alert for any indications of pain, discomfort, or fear. 

“Tommy–” her nails scratched at his shoulder, not enough to break the skin, but just enough to sting. His hissed at the contact, the idea of being marked by her sending a thrill through him that had his cock twitching inside her. 

“Just like that,” she whispered when his tip brushed against her g-spot. “Just like that; don’t stop.”

He grunted deeply, doing as instructed, feeling a surge in his balls as his own release drew nearer. Slotting a hand between them, he started to work on her clit again, rubbing it in small circles carefully timed with his deep thrusts. Her walls squeezed around him, even tighter than before, and he had to grit his teeth and focus hard to keep from coming prematurely.

With a cry and a tightening of her legs around his waist, Lucy came, a hand at the back of his head guiding him in for another kiss while she squeezed and gushed around his sensitive cock. Tommy moaned into her mouth, following her right over the cliff, stilling as he came deeply into her. His mouth continued to work, kissing her slowly and sensually as they rode out their climaxes and steadily started to come down.        

After, when they were laying together in the dark, Lucy in his arms with her head on his chest and her fingers tracing the lines of the tattoo of her name that he had emblazoned on his forearm, he began to tell her of the new plan that had started to take shape within his mind. 

“Lucy, do you remember when you asked me if I’d ever thought about entering politics?”

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Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[zepskies]

@lamentationsofalonelypotato

It is time!! loll Love the preparation, and of course we share that childhood love. I'm so excited to dive into your thoughts on Part 1! 😘💓💓

Oh goodness the enemies to lovers is bubbling under the surface and I am already naming Dean and Mila's children.

Omggg plss. 😭😭 It is classic enemies to lovers, isn't it? Somehow that just occurred to me. 🤣 Girl now look what you did -- you have me looking up names for their future children. 🤣🤣 What was your top contender? lmao

This chapter really is one of the best scenes in Spirit, not to mention one of my favorite songs in that movie. "Get Off My Back" is legendary.

Omfgg yes, we've talked about this, but "Get Off My Back" is the best song of the movie and that whole sequence is my absolute favorite part, which is why I had to include it in this chapter.

I love her already. I mean I loved her from the moment that I found out she broke that jerk's nose, but a strong defiant woman. Yes ma'am here for Mila 1000000%.

I'm so glad to hear that, because Mila does not, in fact, play. 😅 She's a scrapper for sure. 💪🏽

He's already feeling!😏 And I really loved that he fought the smile when she spat in the Colonel's face. Because Dean is already smitten with this woman.

Hahaa yep, it takes Dean a lot to just stand there while a woman's being abused in front of him. It doesn't matter to him that she's an Indian. (And whether he wants to admit it or not, he's noticed her. 😏)

I really love this part, when Dean can sympathize with Mila and her people and why they continue to fight. It also really brings together the "realism" in this story. Especially with the "He doesn't always understand their way of doing things..." A lot of people fear what they don't understand and for Dean to have a more "open" outlook even being surrounded by people who don't is refreshing. And now Mila gets to show her all the wonderful things about her and her tribe! He's different and I love him.

That's exactly what I was going for. Dean is occupying that middle ground of doing what he has to because he's a soldier following orders, but he doesn't relish the work when it comes to fighting the Indians. Logically, he understands their side and can put himself in their shoes, and so he sympathizes. (Mila might just show him even more of her world.)

I also really liked the background you gave him. His father being in the army and that being the reason why Dean joined, and I can just imagine young Dean and young Sam riding horses and breaking them out on their family farm.

Oh thank you! I felt like that would be an appropriate parallel to the show. And I could imagine that aspect too with him and Sam being playfully competitive while they found things to do on the farm! lol

Okay also the fact that Mila calls Dean "Green Eyes" had me literally screaming lol. I was like, "girl I see you and I respect you for noticing how beautiful that man's eyes are."

LOL girl YES. Them fanfiction greens. 💚💚💚

I hope Roman falls off a watchtower and into a giant pile of poop (the size of the ones in Jurassic Park) and then dies. I mean he doesn't... because Dean destroys that man. BUT I hope that they shoveled his body away with the same shovel they use for all the horse poop. It's what the people want lol 😂

lmfaooo If ONLY. It's definitely what the people want. 😂

The descriptions of his hands made me hyperventilate. 😳 I am telling you the trope of a big strong man who has done terrible things with his hands and then is nothing, but gentle with his significant other WIPES ME OUT. Oh stars, I can't take it 😭

I see we have the same problem. 🤣 Because that man's hands (figuratively) do things to me loll. That trope will forever be one of my favorite tropes. I guess that's why I always go for the rogue/hard outer shell guy who softens himself only for his SO. 😭💞

It's true love and now I'm scared of what's gonna happen to them.

YOU TURNED BABY INTO A HORSE?! MASTERFUL! GENIUS! Oh my word I was not expecting that, but it made me so happy you have no idea lol.

I absolutely did! Thank you, my lovely!! 🖤🥰 Baby's reveal was one of my favorite parts of writing this chapter. I was picturing a bit of Black Beauty lol.

Again, so happy Roman is gone. Man is a whole problem and Dean is a problem solver lmao 😂

Dean is the freakin' Solution, let's be honest lmao. Roman is gone, but he might still be a problem, in that Dean may have some consequences to face for his choice...

Oh this chapter was absolutely wonderful and it was everything that I expected and SO SO MUCH MORE friend!❤️ Western Dean is quickly infiltrating my subconscious and someone is gonna have to raise Freud from the dead to work this one out for sure. I mean Freud's already gonna have to talk to me about Spirit, but that horse had an energy, it was voiced by Matt Damon, I was young and impressionable, and I can't be held responsible lmao lol😅 (catching myself in 4k)

Wow, thank you so very much, friend!! 🥰💜 I'm very happy this met and exceeded your expectations. But omg relating to you so hard right now because Matt Damon was perfection voicing Spirit!! I was watching Behind the Scenes stuff just the other day with clips of his performance in the recording studio and him talking about what he enjoyed/thought was special about the movie. 🥰

(And yeah, I know I go overboard with these gifs but I had a fun time here lol)

The Honorable Choice - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 

Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.

AN: I got inspired after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (literally a perfect movie), as well as having Yellowstone in the back of my brain. I thought this idea might be a good fit for this @jacklesversebingo prompt.

Disclaimer: I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU

Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack

Word Count: 4.6K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Racism/racial slurs, attempted sexual assault (not successful), protective Dean, angst, some violence and some action.

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 1: Pride & Prejudice

June 1872

Dean hears some of his men shouting, along with the telltale cracking of bone that would make a less seasoned soldier wince. He spares a look to Benny, his Lieutenant, and sets down his glass of whiskey.

Dean’s path takes him brusquely out of his office and toward the stables. He grabs his gun and his hat on the way there, setting the latter on his head.

Is it too much to ask for one night where he can drink in peace?

Dean comes to find a young woman being detained by two of his men, Kline and Novak. Roman sports a bloody nose and his eye is already beginning to swell. The woman fights against their hold.

Even under the pale moonlight, Dean notes the way she’s dressed: a deer skin dress cinched at the waist, over thin pants and shoes. He surveys her tan skin, her black hair that blends into the night, twisted into a long braid, and the anger in her dark eyes.

“What have we got here?” Dean says. He stows his gun in its holster as he approaches her, resting his hands at his belt.

“I caught her breaking into the stables, Captain,” Roman says. He prods with a hiss at his busted nose while trying to stem the bleeding. That’s going to be a bad break.

She remains tight lipped, stubborn. 

“Probably doesn’t even understand English. Savage bitch,” he says. Dean shoots him an impassive look to cover up his annoyance.

“Put a cork in it, Roman,” he orders. Then, he focuses back on her. “You’re a Lakota, aren’t you?”

Aside from their main mission here in the Dakota Territory, the Colonel has been fixed on fighting back against the Lakota Indians, especially after they sabotaged the supply line last month.

The proud tilt of the woman’s chin is her only answer to Dean’s question. Her gaze drags down his form with disdain, like he’s the savage. His mouth twitches mirthlessly. 

“The Lakota rear up their own horses pretty damn well. Why would you want to steal one of ours?” he asks.

She glances away from him, first at her feet, then over at the camp’s latest “guest.” Dean, Benny, and a few of his men wrangled up a horse a few days ago. He’s a beautiful Kiger mustang with a nasty mean streak. He barely got through a trim this afternoon, and almost took a chunk out of Rufus when he tried to brand the horse.

The Colonel ordered them to tie the horse up to a post just outside the corral—no food or water for three days. He’d turned to Dean with a firm set to his face and issued a single order.

“Break him.”

Now, Dean catches the furtive look the Lakota woman gives the horse, who flicks his tail. The animal stares right at her, as if into her eyes.

“Oh, don’t tell me you here for him,” Dean says with a chuckle. “That thing’s a little too much for you, sweetheart.”

That earns her attention, steely and unimpressed.

“He is too much for you,” she says. Her voice is smooth, and would even be pleasant, if not for the circumstances. “He is one of ours. You will never break him.”

Dean's eyes widen a fraction. He glances back at the mustang.

So that's why she's here, he thinks. She's trying to mount a rescue. Dean feels a twinge deep inside, but he can't allow himself to care about that. They've collected a strong horse that will be a good support for their objectives here, once he's broken.

“Ah, well see,” Dean says, tipping his Stetson up to meet her gaze. “That’s kind of our specialty.”

“Sir, should we take her to the stockade?” Novak asks. He seems reluctant to do so to a woman, even an Indian, but he’s always been good at following orders.

Dean opens his mouth to reply, but another voice cuts him off. Colonel Asmodeus Sanderson steps out and takes a look at their captive.

“Not the stockade,” he says, with that Southern drawl that betrays his Kentucky roots. “Not yet.”

He approaches her with a slow, calculated gait. His hands gather behind his back. Dean gives her credit for looking Sanderson in the eye. She seems rightly wary, but not afraid.

“We won’t hurt you. I give you my word,” the Colonel says, “if you’ll lead us to your people’s camp.”

He takes a hold of her chin, turning her face this way and that, like he’s examining a dirty animal, and all that he’ll have to do to make it clean. She spits in his face.

Dean bites the inside of his lip against a smile. She’s got as much fight in her as the mustang. However, he has to school his face back into stoicism when Sanderson rears back in anger.

The harsh smack rings out in the clearing, along with the woman’s cry. Dean doesn’t allow himself to outwardly react, but inside, his spine tightens as he fights his instincts.

Only Kline and Novak’s hold on her arms keeps her upright. She pants for breath, but again, she meets the Colonel with a face that doesn’t give away anything, despite the reddening mark on her cheek.

“The post,” he barks. “Three days. No food or water.”

Dean is kept busy by his duties. He makes sure the camp is running in order, accepting shipments of supplies and ammunition, among other things. Cas Novak is in charge of the stables, caring for the horses and putting them through their training. Jack Kline is young and strong and a good assistant, along with others in his unit.

Right now, Dean and Benny are going over the plans with Colonel Sanderson for continuing construction on the railroad, from here to the Black Hills. It’s a path that cuts straight through Sioux territory—the bands of Dakota and Lakota Indians that occupy the land.

“The natives are fightin’ us tooth and nail,” Sanderson says. “But maybe our guest will be able to help us…negotiate.”

Dean remains quiet, ignoring yet another uneasy twinge in his gut. He didn’t join the army to fight the Indians. He doesn’t always understand their way of doing things, but he understands why they fight—to protect their land, and to protect their own. It’s the same reason Dean fights, when he has to.

He joined the army because…well, it felt like the right thing to do at the time. His father had been a Cavalry Major, and he’d died an honorable death, now about a decade past.

Has it really been ten years? Christ.

Dean wipes his brow. Even with the windows open, the office is humid and smells like ass. He glances outside, where both the mustang and the woman are tied to their posts under a sweltering sun at high noon.

Not for the first time, Dean wonders what his dad would think of him now. 

After the meeting, Dean and Benny fall into step together to inspect the camp. The summer sun shines hot on their blue uniforms, and occasionally they raise their hats to mop the sweat from their brows.

Things are running as usual, but many of the men’s eyes occasionally turn to the posts. Dean’s attention wanders there too without him realizing, catching on the woman’s dark hair. It shines even blacker in the sunlight, like a raven’s wing. He knows the shade because his dad used to have a feather kept in his journal, like a bookmark.

“You okay, brother?” Benny asks. Dean realizes what he’s doing, and his attention returns to the task at hand. Get it together.

Always forward, never backward.

“Just fine,” Dean replies. Benny gives him a knowing look.

“A bit unsavory, ain’t it?” he says. “Keeping her chained up without even a lick of water.”

“The Indians are getting smarter, bolder. They’re ambushing our men, going after our supply lines, and now, stealing our horses,” Dean says. “This is strategy.”

Benny shrugs slightly, making a sound of agreement. Dean hesitates, his gloved fingers flexing against his sides.

“If she was a man, you guys wouldn’t give a shit about putting a bullet through her head,” Dean says.

Benny’s gaze shifts downward. He doesn’t reply, but he concedes the point all the same.

They continue their route, and Dean keeps the rest of the conversation on the work at hand.

Mila has gone far longer without drink, but the sun is particularly unforgiving today. She’s prayed and prayed for even one cloud to glide overhead and shield her for a while. It’s not much better for her companion. He paces in place, occasionally tugging his head against the rope that binds him to his post.

She makes a clicking sound at the horse, getting his attention. She calls him by his name, and his ears flicker in her direction. He offers her a short whinny in response.

“I see you, Mato. I am with you,” she says in her native tongue. She hopes the sound of her voice will soothe him. He looks tired and hungry, but his eyes flick hard and untrusting on any man who comes near him. His spirit isn’t broken.

“Hey! Shut the hell up over there,” Roman shouts at her from where he and Cas are taking a short lunch break. Cas gives him a certain look, crossed mostly with annoyance.

Mila resists the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she closes them and tilts her face back to the sun. In a way, it feels cleansing. Maybe it can wash away the stench of the White Men’s hands on her body, manhandling her, checking her for weapons.

She spends the rest of the day watching the camp. One of their leaders, the Green Eyed One, called this a fort. It does look fortified, with tall walls made of thick wood constructed to form a cage—whether to keep others out, or to keep the men and horses in.

She identifies the Colonel as their chief, of a kind. Green Eyes is second in command, followed by the Bearded One with a strange voice. Even the scruffy Blue Eyed One has some authority, mostly over the Child Faced One. There are too many others to rank them all, but she knows the Loud Mouthed One is arrogant, even after she broke his nose. The way he carries himself, he clearly thinks he has more power than he actually has.

In her mind, Mila conjures up different plans of escape. All of them fall short in some way. The men didn’t find all of her weapons; a small knife is hidden deep in her boot. She could saw at her binds within an hour, but even with Mato to carry her out and away, the problem is escaping this camp without alerting the men. Without getting shot.

She has three days to think.

That night, the moon refuses to give her clarity. Her stomach is too empty, her throat too dry, her tongue thick in her mouth. Her attention shifts in and out of consciousness, until the sound of boots crunching in the dirt trills unease down her spine. More alert, she sits up straighter.

The Loud Mouthed One. The one they call Roman comes to taunt her, offering her water, then drinking for himself instead. He comes closer to examine her. He has a small bind over his broken nose.

“You know, you’re a pretty one,” he says, taking another cold sip as his gaze drags over her form. “For a wild thing.”

His face nears hers, clean shaven, though his thin smile reminds her of a rattlesnake. Dread and repulsion churn at odds in her stomach as she realizes what he's really here for. It doesn't matter if he truly wants her, or just wants to pay her back for his face. Either way, he means to take her here in the dirt.

She looks away, not wanting to let him see her fear, or the dread tightening her stomach, rising into her throat. He winds long fingers into her hair. At first the hold is gentle, deceptive. Then it's tight against her scalp. She hisses in pain when he tugs her head back and forces her to look at him. Her breathing quickens as she tries to pull away.

He draws in close to try and claim her in a kiss, but she head-butts him, hard.

He cries out and stumbles back, his flask falling to the ground.

He angrily grabs her and hauls her up to her feet. He pushes her hard against the post and unbuckles his belt, just to stuff it in her mouth. With his free hand, he begins to undo his pants.

She refuses to cry out, even though she spits out his belt and fights him, trying to kick out his knees.

Suddenly, the man’s body is ripped away from her. Mila loses her footing and falls to the dusty ground, sliding against the wooden beam she’s tied to. The wind is knocked out of her, but when she raises her head, she watches with wide eyes as the Green Eyed One beats the other man into the dirt. It doesn’t take much, just a few well-placed fists.

Roman lies there catching his breath, and he spits a wad of phlegm and blood. His left eye will match his nose, that’s for sure.

Green Eyes looks angry and disgusted. He huffs and puffs while staring down at his subordinate. He pushes back his short brown hair and points an ungloved hand at Roman.

“Get back to the goddamn barracks. You’re gonna be mucking out stalls until shit’s coming out of your ears,” he growls.

Roman doesn’t argue, though it’s obvious that he wants to. He just picks himself up, makes a show of straightening up his open uniform jacket while catching his breath. He walks past Green Eyes with a resentful, angry look. Green Eyes watches him until he disappears inside.

Then, he turns to her. His gaze softens somewhat, but it’s still unreadable. He crouches down in front of her, resting his arms on his thighs. Mila’s gaze briefly falls to his hands. They’re calloused, the hands of a laboring man. He carries himself like a warrior.

“Sorry about that,” he says.

It’s not what she expected. Mila eyes him warily when he moves closer. She presses her back against the post until it hurts her spine. He raises up his hands placatingly.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says.

“That is what your Colonel said,” she says. Her voice cracks with dryness. “I didn’t believe him either.”

His lips flicker at a rueful smile. It wrinkles crow’s feet around his eyes, breaking his stony face.

“Fair enough.”

He reaches for his belt and retrieves a flask, similar to the one his subordinate carried. He extends it out to her.

“It’s water, unless you prefer whiskey. I know I do,” he says.

She raises a brow at him, but hearing the sloshing inside the flask, her thirst takes over her wariness, and even her pride. She tentatively leans forward. He brings it closer so she can press her lips to the opening. Despite his Colonel’s orders, he lets her drink as much water as she’s able. When she’s done, he pockets the flask and sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

That, she will not give him. Names are sacred to her people, and this man, while seeming to have a shred of honor, isn’t worthy.

“Don’t wanna even tell me your name?” he says. He nods slightly. “Okay, well, I’m Dean. Captain Winchester, to this band of delinquents.”

He gestures around the camp with a dismissive hand. Mila only watches him. She’s never seen a White act like this, breaking his leader’s rules, being…kind.

What a strange man.

But if he had any real convictions, he would untie her and let her go, along with Mato. She won’t hold her breath.

Dean’s brows raise up toward his hairline, and his full lips form a pout. Realizing he’s not going to get anything more from her, he lets out a tired huff and straightens up.

“Well, goodnight,” he says.

He finally leaves her alone, but she can’t help but follow the swaggering path of his bowed legs and heavy boots. They carry him away and back indoors.  

A strange man.

By the morning of the third day, Dean is ready to do what he does best. Or at least, one thing he does best.

He’s no stranger to horses. He grew up on a farm in Lawrence, Kansas, where he and his brother would help take care of the animals. Dean was older, so he helped his father till the land and train the horses. Sometimes he and Sam would sneak off and race their favorite ones, until their mom called them back for dinner.

In fact, part of what earned Dean his rank in the U.S. Cavalry was how well he could command a horse. His own is resting in the stables.

Today, he’s getting in the ring with the mustang.

…Well, not right away. He lets a few of his guys go first to tire him out. Even after three days of no food or water, the horse is living up to his bad attitude. He bucks each of them off after just a few seconds in the corral. Dean can tell it’s becoming a kind of game for the horse. His dun-colored coat shines in the sun, his brown socked legs kicking up dust and manure as he brays angrily at whoever tries to mount him.

Dean notices the Lakota woman watching with an amused smile on her face while she sits with her hands tied to her post. She’s enjoying the show, like she knew this would happen. It seems to give her energy every time another man is thrown off the horse and limps out of the ring.

Dean shakes his head. Pitiful.

He puts two gloved fingers to his mouth and whistles the entire clearing to attention. He saves Kline the chance to bruise his spine and pats him on the shoulder. Dean steps into the corral and positions himself into the stirrups, wrapping the reins around his hand. The horse is breathing hard, but he’s not done. He’s still got fight in him. Dean sees it in his brown eyes.

“All right, mustang. You’re big and bad. I get it,” Dean says lowly. “But I don’t scare easy. Gimme your best damn shot.”

Cas and Benny give him wary looks from where they stand outside the gate.

“Hold onto your hat, Cap,” Benny mutters.

Dean adjusts his hat and rests his gun on the post for safe keeping. He wants to feel as natural as possible, like it’s just him and this horse, out back in his family farm. He holds on tight to the reins. He’s fully prepared for how the mustang takes off at a galloping clip around the ring. He twists and bucks, but Dean claps his thighs tight and holds on for the ride.

The horse gets smarter.

He runs for the water trough just outside the ring. He slams Dean against the side of it once, twice—and manages to throw him off, with Dean landing right in the water trough.

He bursts out from the dirty water, sopping wet and spluttering in anger. He looks over at the horse trotting around, whinnying and tossing his head like he’s laughing. Dean can’t help it. His anger fades, and he smiles.

This guy’s got some brass balls, I’ll give him that.

The Lakota woman laughs. Dean hears it and his head swivels toward her. She bites her lip, but she knows she’s been caught. Despite his injured pride, Dean’s lips curve with a smirk. Just gonna laugh at me, huh?

“I see things are going well,” comes a familiar drawl.

Dean’s face falls as he looks up and finds Colonel Sanderson. Dean pulls himself out of the trough and tries to squeeze some water out of his uniform. He clears his throat.

“Well, uh, it’s going, sir. Just gonna take a little more time than I thought,” Dean says. He quickly reclaims his hat from the ring, giving the mustang a smart berth. After he climbs back out, he goes over to the post where he left his pistol.

“Hold him steady,” Sanderson barks out the order, but not at Dean. The other men wrangle the horse back into the pen, where Sanderson climbs up and mounts the horse himself.

To his credit, he stays on longer than even Dean thought he would. The mustang gallops and circles. He tries slamming Sanderson on the sides of the corral, tries bucking him and bucking him, but the man clings on, even when his hat falls into the dirt.

The horse is exhausted. He eventually stops in the middle of the ring, panting for breath, his legs shaking slightly. Dean straightens at attention.

So does the Lakota woman, he notices. She looks worried, her brows furrowing.

Sanderson swipes a hand over his graying hair and moustache to collect himself. He raises his head with an arrogant smile.

“You see, gentlemen. Any horse can be broken,” he says. He kicks the horse with his spur. “Move along, mustang.”

To everyone’s amazement, the horse obeys him. He moves forward at a slow clip. All the men applaud, even Dean, belatedly.

“There are those in Washington who believe the West will never be settled,” Sanderson continues. “The Northern Pacific Railroad will never breach Nebraska.”

His gaze draws over to the woman. Her eyes are filled with tears as she watches the Colonel makes his rounds.

“A hostile Lakota,” he says in derision, “will never submit to providence.”

She stares back at him with steel in her watery eyes.

Dean doesn’t realize his jaw is clenched tight until he feels the strain in his jaw. He forces himself to relax, with his hand on his dampened belt.

“And it’s that kind of small thinking that would say this horse would never be broken,” Sanderson says. “Discipline, time, and patience. That’s all you need to level a wild thing.”

Just then, the horse stops abruptly.

“Mustang?” Sanderson asks in warning.

Dean tenses. He knows what’s about to happen.

“Sir!” he calls out.

But it’s too late.

The stallion revs and charges, bucking even wilder than before. He swings his head and rears back high on his hind legs with a powerful bray. Sanderson yells in fear and strain, but he stays on the creature’s back.

The horse’s angry eyes take on a darker shade of conviction. When all four of his hooves hit the ground, he finally bucks hard enough to get the Colonel off his back, though he still clings to the reins near the animal’s head. He comes face to face with the horse’s crazed eyes. His own are wide and full of terror.

Hot breath heats Sanderson’s face. Then the horse swings his head and tosses the man out of the ring. In the process, the horse falls on his side and shatters a section of the wooden beams that fenced him in.

While he shakes his head and gets his hooves under him, Dean and Benny help the Colonel up to his feet. His uniform is a wreck, and now, with a bruised body and likely a couple of broken ribs, the man is fuming.

Kline and Roman wrangle the horse’s reins and keep him more or less in place. The Colonel shoves Dean and Benny off of him. He reaches for his gun at his belt and aims it at the mustang. Dean goes rigid in shock, but he knows he can’t interfere. If he does, it could warrant some major discipline.

The Colonel pulls the hammer back on the revolver, but before he can pull the trigger, the sound of cutting rope and a feminine yell breaks the silence in the clearing. The Lakota woman pulls the Colonel’s arms down, and the gun goes off into the ground. Her elbow comes up quick to strike the man between the eyes. He careens back into Benny, who catches him.

Meanwhile, the woman swings up onto the mustang. She grabs a stronghold by the neck and barks something in her native language. It spurs the horse onward, and he breaks through the crowd of men at a gallop.

Dean watches with widening eyes and furrowing brows. “Shit!”

He runs to the stables where he finds Baby waiting for him. Her black coat ripples as she stamps impatiently.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he beckons. He leads the mare out of the stable, and after grabbing a coil of rope from the supply bench, he mounts her smoothly. With a subtle kick of his heel, she picks up speed to follow the mustang and his rider.

They’re already approaching the gate where the men are quickly trying to close it. There’s still a window of opportunity for escape, but not only is Dean on their heels, Roman also stands on a pile of crates filled with iron parts that are due to be shipped out in the morning for continued construction on the railroad. Roman holds a rifle. He trains his weapon on the woman, taking deadly aim.

Dean’s jaw clenches and his brows furrow. He knows then, in the breadth of a few seconds, that he has to make a choice. If he does nothing, both she and the horse are as good as dead.

Sam used to call him reckless, stubborn as the horses he spent long hours taming.

Right about now, his brother is probably right.

Dean reaches for his gun, aims, and shoots within the span of those seconds. Roman goes down before he even knows what hits him. His chest plumes with blood after he slides down the crates and flops heavy to the ground. His eyes stare unseeing at the crisp blue sky.

The mustang tears through the narrow opening in the gate, and Dean isn’t far behind. The woman is an excellent rider, far better than he expected her to be. She clings to the horse’s neck and mane, and she doesn’t even use the stirrups. She clings on when the horse leaps over rocks, and when she notices Dean tailing her, she urges the horse at an even faster gallop.

Dean’s face furrows with determination. Baby is built for speed too.

He gives her a little kick with his heel. “Come on, Baby. Go!”

He’s able to keep up with the mustang just a few yards behind, even when they reach rougher terrain, going further up and into a canyon. He follows them through every curve and dip, guiding his horse just as much as she's guiding him.

Dean takes his rope in hand and turns it above his head, but his attempt to lasso the mustang's neck fails; the woman saws straight through the rope with her knife.

"Damn it!" Dean mutters.

He's forced to let go of his frayed rope when he and Baby nearly careen off the edge of a cliff. His heart settles high in his throat as he grits his teeth, but he pulls back on the reins hard and leans in the opposite direction. Baby's able to bank left, saving them from a long way down to certain death.

They continue up the narrow path the mustang has trod ahead. It carves around and through the mountain.

Dean mentally grasps for a plan, aside from just keeping up. Without even a bit of rope, he doesn’t know how he’s going to slow the woman down without hurting her or the horse. He doesn’t want to have to use his gun.

Eventually, the canyon breaks into a patch of desert, and then, grassy plains and tall forest trees. The mustang begins to tire and slow to a stop. His rider murmurs soothing things to him, stroking his neck. She turns back to look at Dean over her shoulder in dismay. She knows she’s caught.

“All right, sweetheart. That’s enough,” Dean says.

He sidles up next to her and intends to grab the mustang’s reins.

That’s when her swift kick comes, dead in his forehead.

AN: And here we go! 😅 Feels right that November is Native American Indian Heritage Month. 🫶🏽 For that reason especially I've done my best to do the Lakota people justice, even in this little series and complete work of fiction.

There's a lot packed in this first chapter, and yep, I did borrow a bit of scene from one of the best scenes in Spirit as an homage. From here on out, we're literally going off road...

Next Time:

Dean falls out of his saddle with a yell, landing hard in the grass. The impact knocks the air out of his chest and his hat off his head, not to mention the pain that rattles down his back.

“Son of a bitch,” he wheezes, while trying to get back up.

The woman jumps down from the mustang’s back and all but leaps on Dean. Straddling his waist and grabbing a fistful of his collar, she lets out a battle cry and raises a small knife at him. It’s probably no more than two inches long.

Dean may be on the ground with a smarting forehead, but he’s still got the upper hand. He grabs her knife-wielding arm and whips out his pistol from his belt. Her eyes widen, and she stills above him. The gun lies between them, aimed for her chest. They’re both breathing hard.

Dean has a problem.

Looking into her eyes, soulful and brown, the slope of her nose and her full lips, parted with shock… 

COMING 11/10! (New chapters every Sunday.)

Or read Part 2 on Patreon now!

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