#God I can’t do this job anymore my throat is killing me!

[whereismyhat5678]

*Ehem*

HEARYE HEARYE‼️‼️‼️ 🔔🗣️🔔🗣️🔔🗣️🔔🗣️

CALLING UPON DEAREST MUTUAL OUR BRILLIANCE OUR EXTRAVAGANT @marclef

THOU ARTIST HAT HAS BROUGHT THOU ART TRADE FOR YOU.

SHE ONLY WISHES YOU THE BEST AND HOPES YOU LIKE THOU DEAR TRADE.

NOW WE PROUDLY PRESENT:

*INTENSE COUGHING WHEEZING*

Fuck my throat- WE HOPE DEAR @marclef LIKES THOU TRADE. WE HOPE TO SEE YOU SOON AND HAVE THE MOST WONDERFUL OF DAYS.

-SINCERELY

whereismyhat5678 👁️💖👁️

[notafunkiller]

we found wonderland

Summary: You have a choice to make: you either set yourself free or continue to play the game.

Pairing: (fake) boyfriend’s brother!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap (r is 26, Bucky is 39), teasing, dirty talk, unprotected séx (but she is on the pill), pet names, daddy kínk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 2.4K

story masterlist

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this mini-series! Thank you for reading!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

You had decided you should wait for a week before making your relationship public, using that time to try to convince your parents to change their mind while Bucky plays pretend with his. It’s not an ideal situation, but he understands, keeping the truth to himself.

What he can’t keep to himself is his hands. Not that you can… but as soon as he comes home, he’s all over you, not even caring you are in the living room sometimes.

Acting like you’re just friendly is very hard for you. You want to touch and kiss him like crazy. Having sex with him changed the game, and now you try your hardest to find a way out of this deal so you can be in this relationship completely.

You laugh at the way he pouts. “You’re really adorable for an old man.”

“Is it so crazy I want us together?”

You melt, leaning in to kiss his chin. “That’s not crazy, baby, but isn’t that a little fast?”

“We’ve been living together for months now. What’s the difference?”

You wish you could find the right words to explain it. It’s quite scary and exciting, but it feels strange. “We’ve been together for a couple of days. Maybe we don’t…”

“Are you thinking of a break up already?”

You jump immediately. “No! Maybe we don’t have things figured out enough yet. And by we I mean me. I won’t have a job anymore if my parents don’t change their minds. I won’t have a real home. I won’t have anything but you. And I love every moment I spend with you, but I want something of my own, and I definitely don’t want to feel like a burden even if you don’t make me feel like that. My life is a mess.”

“And I want to help. I am not trying to control you or suggest something you don’t want, but we are friends, too, not just a couple. I am here for you. You can stay with me as a friend if not as a boyfriend. I want you safe.”

You say nothing, only staring at him for a while. You don’t even know what to say because the mix of emotions you feel is confusing.

“You know what I want?”

“What?”

“I want to fuck you right now.” You don’t try to hide your neediness as you place your hands on his shorts. “Can I, baby? Can I ride you?”

“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me before I turn forty. Is this your plan? Do you want me gone?” He’s already raising his ass so he can help you take off his shorts quicker.

“I want you with me always. Want you inside me so badly.”

He groans at your tone. “Then go for it, baby, take whatever you want. It’s all yours. I’m all yours.”

You smile eagerly seeing his hard cock, and lift his T-shirt. You cannot stand anything between your bodies right now. You just need to feel him. “God, we should go to the bedroom, but I can’t wait.”

You take off your underwear, unable to wait any longer. As if someone is holding a knife to your throat, and if you don’t get Bucky inside you in the next seconds, you’re gonna die.

“Anyone can walk in,” he says as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. He probably even enjoys it. “Can you imagine their faces?”

You snort, bringing his dick to your entrance without hesitation after spreading your legs further apart. “No, but I can imagine yours when you come.”

“You don’t need to imagine. You’re gonna see it up close if you hurry up.”

Neither of you even realize you’re not using a condom for the first time until it’s too late and you’re already sliding down.

Your grasp on his shoulders is so forceful, you’re sure it will leave a mark, as you moan his name.

“James…” You desperately look at him, wanting to see if he feels the same. “We’re not using anything.”

“I c-can feel that.”

“God damn it, James,” you sound like you’re scolding him, but in reality you are just overwhelmed.

“What did I… fucking hell, I am totally not getting to turn forty. I will die tonight.”

You ask with your eyes closed. “Do you want me to get a condom?”

“No, I want to die.” He groans, already in a different space. “Unless you want to… I am clean and you are, of course, and I can pull out, but like it’s not… I can go grab a condom right now.”

You immediately shake your head, placing your hand on his chest. He’s not gonna do that. He has to make you come.

“You are not going anywhere, you get out of me and I’ll die!”

“So you’re ovulating?” He asks casually, with a playful grin spread across his face.

You chuckle, hitting him in the shoulder. 

“Yes, I am, and you gotta take care of me.”

Bucky groans, grabbing your ass, unable to keep his hands off you. You’re so hot and warm. “You’re really, really wet, princess.”

“Ihm.” You slide down further, almost taking all of his cock. “Look how deep I took you now.” You moan proudly, feeeling so stretched like this. “Look at this, daddy.”

And when he lets his eyes drop to your entrance, he has no idea how he doesn’t com right then. The sight is incredible.

“Baby…”

“I’m your baby, daddy.” You quickly take off your T-shirt at the same time you move your hips. As soon as he’s naked, you grab your breasts, holding them together with a smirk. You know that is going to affect him, and it makes you feel powerful.

“Oh God,” he groans as you bring your breasts closer to his mouth.

“Come on, daddy, go ahead.”

It’s all he needs to hear before he takes your right nipple into his mouth and the left one between his fingers. Riding him like this is a little difficult, but it’s not impossible. You love getting your breasts played with, and he loves doing it.

There is also something really hot and thrilling about the possibility of getting caught. You have no idea why and how, but you’re going to enjoy this as much as you can.

“You feel so good like this, nothing between us. Nothing between your come and me,” you moan, not even thinking about what you say.

“You can’t say that and expect me to be strong.”

That makes you laugh. “I’m on the pill, though, you don’t have to be strong.”

“Fucking hell, you’re gonna drive me crazy.” He starts to thrust his hips back so he can meet you halfway. Riding him feels so, so good. You got him deeper, and the lack of a condom makes you properly feel his thickness.

“You feel so… Fuck, your cock is filling me just the way I need it.” You grab his shoulders so you can move faster. “You’re such a good daddy, let-letting me use you right here, where everyone could see us.”

“You love using daddy’s cock.” He looks so drunk, in so much pleasure. “Such a naughty girl.”

“I’m your naughty girl, James.”

“All mine.” His hands on your hips help you move faster indeed, and you’re already so close you can barely keep your eyes open.

“F-faster.”

Bucky stops thrusting his hips back, and you groan. You need more.

“If you want it faster, keep your eyes on me, pretty girl.”

“I c-can’t-” As much as you want to fight this, your eyes instinctively close again. “Ss-so close.”

He can hear your desperation and without hesitating, he brings his hand into your hair and pulls unexpectedly hard. That’s enough for you to come loud. So loud you can hear yourself as you let the pleasure consume every bit of you.

But Bucky doesn’t stop moving his hips, making your orgasm last longer. He’s saying things, probably dirty things, in your ear, but you can’t understand anything. Your ears are still ringing.

And just like that, Bucky comes too, with his right hand still wrapped around your hair while the left one is digging into the skin of your hip.

“Fuck, I’m coming inside you, baby, can you feel it? Can you feel me filling your pussy, baby?”

“Ihm,” you can barely whisper, too overwhelmed by everything.

“Whose come?”

“Y-yours.”

“Good girl.” He groans as soon as he finishes coming, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you. “This feels like heaven.”

“I don’t think I can go back to wearing a condom now. I mean if you want to…”

“Are you sure? We can still use one just to make sure we are safer.”

You peck him. “We can still use it, don’t worry, I get it. Looking out for me and stuff.”

He lets out a deep breath, thankful you understand what he means.

“Of course I am looking out for you, that’s my job.”

“Job? You are my daddy, not my mom or dad.”

“I am your partner and your friend. I will always look out for you.”

A sudden urge to fuck him again takes over your body, but before you can do it, your phone starts ringing.

Bucky gives you the phone without moving, and when you both see it’s his brother, you groan.

“Hi, William.” You try to sound as normal as possible, but your voice is so raspy it’s impossible.

“Hey, gonna be home in a few minutes. Are you okay? Is Bucky home yet?”

“Ihm, he came.” You wink at James. “All good here. See you.”

You don’t wait for him to answer before you’re hanging up.

“You came too.”

You giggle immediately. It’s hard not to be around Bucky; he is goofy at the right time. “We need to clean up, though, he’s close.”

“Alright.”

*

Your parents didn’t want to listen to you at all. You didn’t have the chance to talk at the party since they’re avoiding you at all costs, and you had to go outside not to cry in front of everyone. You don’t just feel alone and treated like shit, you feel humiliated.

You’re lucky Bucky went to pick up William because his car broke down halfway here, so he didn’t actually witness your breakdown. You know he’d have done something about it. Something you should.

At this point, what do you really have?

“Hey, are you well? Why are you outside, it’s freezing?”

Bucky’s voice makes you jump as he’s suddenly by your side, rubbing your arms. William is right behind him.

“Baby, why are you outside?”

You see Bucky rolling his eyes, and you sigh.

“I wanted some fresh air, William.” You turn toward Bucky before taking a step back. You don’t want him to think you reject his touch. You really need his hug, but it’s not about what you need. “We should go inside.”

He nods, and all three of you make your way close to the improvised stage in the main room.

It’s crazy how many people actually came; it almost feels suffocating.

Your parents have been talking for a while, you assume, because people were animated. You wonder what they promised them.

“And since we’re all here now, I have something to announce,” Bucky’s dad takes the microphone all of a sudden, and William sighs. You want to ask him what is going on since he looks nervous, but you don’t have time to. “I want to invite my son, William, on the stage with us.”

And then he calls your name.

You look at both of your parents, trying to understand why you’d be needed there, and Bucky is just as confused as you are. Everyone starts clapping, and you find yourself dragged on the stage before you can protest.

“Tonight marks a very special moment for us both: professionally and personally.” You freeze, looking at Bucky instantly, but he’s also shocked, shaking his head. “A partnership that will last for a long time, hopefully, passed to a real-life partnership that has developed over the last months.”

William smiles proudly when his dad pats him on the back, and you want to throw up right then.

You turn your head to your parents, who display the fakest smiles you’ve ever seen. They don’t care about what you want. About what you need. Either way, you’re alone, and you cannot continue to play their game. You can’t!

And before anyone can stop you, you’re basically running down the stairs, straight toward Bucky. You quickly wrap your hand around his neck and force him to lean in so you can properly kiss him. You sense his surprise, but you don’t stop, using the opportunity to shamelessly kiss him in front of the whole company, including your parents. He’s yours, and everyone should know it.

He cups your face when you break off the kiss to breathe, and you smile.

You finally did it! You’re free.

You don’t need to turn around to know how upset your families must be. Everyone around you is either gasping or whispering around. You know they’ll be talking about this for a solid week at least, but you’re not gonna be there to hear. You won’t explain anything to them, and they can consider you a cheater who fucked the other brother all they want. It is not your mess to fix. You just want to leave.

“Let’s get out of here,” you whisper, taking his hand. All you want is to eat something and suck him off. “I need to pack my stuff.”

“Are you sure?” He asks concerned as you start to walk toward the exit. Neither of you turns when William calls your names.

“I have never been more sure in my entire life.”

He says nothing as you reach his car, lifting the hand he’s been holding closer to his lips so he can brush a tender kiss against the back of it.

You’re going to be okay.

Tags:

@charmedbysarge @identity2212 @vicmc624  @cjand10  @mayusenpai666  @abitofblues @doveromanoff @buckyb-stan @igotmajordaddyissues

[sidekick-hero]

Cheesy

steddie | 1.2k | rated: teen | tags: modern AU, Eddie works at Surfer Boy Pizza, inappropriate humor, cheesy lines and bad puns, fluff and humor | AO3

"Steeeeeeve! Steven! I’m starving! You have to save me from the cruel clutches of death by buying us a pizza. But you must hurry—I don’t have much time left."

"Oh no, what would I ever do without you?" Steve deadpans, barely suppressing a grin.

Robin dramatically flings herself onto him, knocking the wind out of him with a loud 'oumph.'

She jabs a finger into his ribs—surprisingly painful. "Crash and burn, Dingus. Crash. And. Burn."

Steve swats her poking fingers away, scowling at his platonic soulmate. "At least I’d have fewer bruises and a better bank account. This is the third time this week I’m buying you pizza, Buckley. How is that fair?"

He tries to sound stern, but as Robin squirms in his lap, looking up at him with big, pleading blue eyes, his resolve crumbles to dust.

"Because I’ve been your best friend since we both lost all dignity in those sailor outfits. It’s us against the world, oh platonic love of my life. Or... don’t you love me anymore?"

There it is—the killing blow. Game, set, match.

God, he’s so fucking easy, isn’t he?

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Gimme my phone, jeez. You’re eating me out of house and home, I hope you know that."

Steve gets a sharp elbow in the stomach as Robin scrambles to grab his phone from the table.

"Ouch! God, why are your elbows so pointy?"

"They’re my secret weapon against the patriarchy," Robin says distractedly, shoving the phone in his face. "Pizza. Please. Hungry."

Robin’s monosyllables mean the situation is dire. Steve quickly dials their favorite pizza place. “Veggie?” he mouths, earning a thumbs-up from Robin.

“Surfer Boy Pizza, this is Eddie speaking. What’s your poison of choice?”

Huh. The deep, smooth voice on the other end of the line is new, throwing Steve off momentarily.

“Uhhhm… You’re not Argyle,” he blurts out, immediately wanting to slap himself. How pathetic does he sound right now?

An amused chuckle echoes through the tiny speaker.

“Keen observation skills, Sherlock. Argyle’s off today, so you’ve got the pleasure of my company. How can I make your day better, sweetheart?”

The flirty tone throws Steve further, but he can’t deny he’s enjoying it. So, he decides to match Eddie’s energy.

“I could think of a few things, but I’m not sure they’re on the menu,” Steve flirts back, relishing the chance to flex his long-dormant charm.

“Is that so?” Eddie’s smile is practically audible. “Who says they aren’t? Or that I wouldn’t make an exception if you ask real nice?”

Steve opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, Robin’s elbow digs into his side, knocking the breath out of him. She’s glaring at him, mouthing, ‘What the fuck?’

The sound must have been loud enough for Eddie to hear because he clears his throat awkwardly. “Uh, was that… I mean, sorry if that was too forward, man. Please don’t tell my manager, I just got the job and—”

“No! No, no, no, don’t worry. My best friend’s just starving and shared her pain with me… via elbow to the ribs. It wasn’t too forward, I promise.”

A relieved sigh reaches his ear. “Okay, good. So, what kind of pizza can I get you two before your best friend starves to death? I wouldn’t want that on my conscience.”

A heavy weight settles in Steve’s stomach. He didn’t realize how much he missed being flirted with, even casually. Nancy was right—their relationship had been over long before they ended it. It’s been ages since he felt this kind of excitement.

“Yeah, no, we don’t want that,” Steve agrees, smiling despite himself. “One veggie, and one with meatballs—yes, I know how that sounds.”

Eddie’s flirtatious tone returns. “Wouldn’t dream of going for such an easy opening, big boy. I’m easy, not cheesy.”

“Oh. My. God.” Steve laughs. “That was terrible.”

“But you liked it.”

Steve grins. Yeah, he did. He’s a sucker for bad puns and dad jokes. But Eddie didn’t need to know that. “Pleading the fifth.”

Eddie hums, asking for his name and address before promising the pizza will be there in 20 minutes.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Steve says, his voice softer than it should be.

“Anytime, Stevie. Enjoy your pizza!”

“Bye. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Deafening silence. Then, in a surprisingly calm voice, Eddie says, “I hope you’re not expecting a discount on the pizza now that we’ve confessed our undying love to each other. Because I’d do anything for love, but I won’t do that.”

And then he hangs up, leaving Steve to spiral in peace.

Love you.

Love you, too.

Fuck. Oh my God. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. What was he thinking? Nothing, apparently. It’s just… with Nancy on his mind, his brain switched to autopilot, saying the words he ended every call with her. Three years of habit.

“Steve? Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The worried look on Robin’s face lasts just long enough for Steve to explain what happened before she breaks into ringing laughter.

“Oh my God,” she gasps, barely able to catch her breath. “That’s… hahaha… I can’t… What is your life, Dingus?”

By then, Steve’s laughing too, Robin’s reaction helping him see the humor instead of drowning in embarrassment.

As promised, there’s a ring at the door about 20 minutes later, announcing the arrival of their pizza. The sound sends butterflies fluttering in his stomach, even though he knows the delivery guy won’t be Eddie.

Knowing that and seeing it for himself are two different things, though. He can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment when he opens the door to find a blonde, pimply teenager staring at him doubtfully.

“So, you’re the guy trying to lure Eddie into your sex dungeon?”

Steve sputters, completely thrown. “Uh… what?”

“Why else would you tell a total stranger—who’s also working for you, by the way, hence creating an imbalance of power—that you love him? Freak.”

The teenager shoves the pizza boxes into Steve’s hands, snatches the bills from his other hand, and walks away without another word.

Steve stands there, staring into the void, deeply regretting all his life choices. He’s snapped out of it only when Robin’s voice pierces through his thoughts, yelling for her pizza.

“Coming!” he shouts back, closing the door with his foot and carrying the boxes over to where Robin’s already making grabby hands.

He hands hers over before settling down next to her with his own.

“What took you so long?” she asks, mouth full of pizza.

“You wouldn’t believe it,” he begins but stops when he notices the note stuck to the top of his pizza box.

Hey Stevie, I lied, because this is cheesy, but you are one supreme slice, and I’d love to give you meatballs for as long as you’d like. Yours truly, The guy you confessed your undying love to (aka Eddie) P.S. Please don’t mind Sam. He’s just jealous because no customer ever confesses their love to him.

Beneath the note, Steve finds a phone number.

Without thinking, he grabs his phone and quickly types out a message before finally digging into his pizza, suddenly starving.

‘Hey Eddie, if you put a sausage on top of the meatballs, we have a deal. xxx the guy you confessed your undying love to right back.’

Inspired by this ancient post I can no longer find:

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Afraid to Be Happy

Pairing: Dominique Darius x Reader

POV: First-Person

Word Count: ~2,500

Themes: Angst, Comfort, Love, Mental Health

Summary: it’s gonna be ok

🏷️: @yailtsv , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03

⸻

Happiness is dangerous.

At least, that’s what my mind tells me.

I’ve spent most of my life avoiding it, convincing myself that every moment of joy is a precursor to something terrible. If I let myself feel too much, too deeply, the universe will take it away. So, I don’t. I keep a safe distance from anything that could make me too happy.

But then Dominique Darius walked into my life, and suddenly, I didn’t know how to run anymore.

⸻

“Are you ever gonna let me win this argument?” Dominique teases, nudging my knee with hers as we sit on her apartment floor, a half-eaten box of pizza between us.

I glance at her, knowing exactly what she’s talking about. “That depends. Are you ever gonna stop trying to take me out on a real date?”

She groans dramatically, flopping back against the couch. “You are my girlfriend. Dates come with the territory.”

I shift uncomfortably, picking at the crust of my pizza. “I just… I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Dominique sits up, watching me carefully. “Because of your cherophobia?” Her voice is gentle, patient, the same way it always is when we talk about this.

I swallow hard and nod.

She sighs, pulling her knees up to her chest. “Babe, I love you, but you deserve to be happy. We deserve to be happy.”

I feel a lump form in my throat. “You don’t get it, Dom. Every time I let myself enjoy something—really enjoy something—it gets taken away. My dad got a new job, and we celebrated. A week later, he got laid off. My best friend and I had the best summer of our lives, and by fall, she moved across the country. Good things don’t last for me.”

Dominique reaches out, intertwining our fingers. Her grip is warm, steady. “That’s not fair, though. You’re punishing yourself for things you had no control over. It’s like you think happiness is some kind of curse.”

I flinch because, yeah, that’s exactly what I think.

She sighs, squeezing my hand. “I know I can’t make you stop feeling this way overnight. But I can show you that happiness isn’t always a trick. That it doesn’t have to end in disaster.”

I want to believe her. God, I do. But I don’t know how to unlearn years of fear.

Dominique doesn’t push me, though. She just holds my hand, her thumb tracing slow circles against my skin, and for once, I let myself breathe.

⸻

It’s a few weeks later when Dominique tries again.

We’re at one of her games, and USC is killing it. The crowd is electric, the sound vibrating through my bones. I don’t usually come to games—I tell myself it’s because of my coursework, but really, it’s because I don’t want to feel too invested.

But tonight, Dominique asked me to be here, and I couldn’t say no.

She plays like she was born for this, moving across the court with a confidence that makes my chest ache. I watch her sink a three-pointer, the crowd erupting as she turns and scans the stands—looking for me.

And then she sees me.

Even from here, I can tell she’s smiling.

Something warm pools in my stomach, and before I can stop myself, I smile back.

For a moment, it feels safe.

For a moment, I forget to be afraid.

⸻

Later that night, Dominique finds me outside the arena, leaning against the railing, my mind a battlefield.

“Hey, superstar,” I murmur as she approaches, her duffle bag slung over her shoulder.

She grins, stepping close enough for me to feel her warmth. “Hey, biggest fan.”

I roll my eyes, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. “You did good tonight.”

“You came,” she says softly, like she’s afraid to break whatever spell I’m under.

I nod, swallowing against the uncertainty in my throat. “Yeah.”

Dominique studies me for a long moment. Then, carefully, she lifts her hand and brushes her fingers against my cheek. “How do you feel?”

I want to lie. I want to tell her I feel fine, that I’m not freaking out, that I’m not waiting for something to go wrong.

But this is Dominique. And if there’s one person in the world I don’t want to lie to, it’s her.

“I don’t know,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

She nods, like she expected that answer. “Come with me.”

I blink. “Where?”

“Just… trust me?”

I hesitate, but then she takes my hand, and suddenly, the fear doesn’t seem quite as loud.

⸻

She drives us to a quiet park just outside of the city. It’s late, the streets empty, the sky stretching wide above us.

We sit on the hood of her car, staring at the stars, the cool night air wrapping around us.

“This is where I come when I need to clear my head,” Dominique says, her voice soft.

I glance at her. “You needed to clear your head after winning?”

She laughs, shaking her head. “No, I needed you to clear yours.”

I frown, looking down at my hands. “Dom…”

She shifts, turning to face me fully. “I’m not gonna pretend I understand exactly what you’re going through. But I do know that happiness isn’t a guarantee for disaster. You’re allowed to have good things without waiting for the worst to happen.”

I clench my jaw, staring out at the sky. “That’s easy for you to say. Your happiness never cost you anything.”

Dominique is silent for a long time, and when I finally look at her, I realize my mistake.

“That’s not true,” she says quietly.

My stomach twists. “Dom—”

She shakes her head. “You think I don’t know what it’s like to be scared of losing something good? You think I don’t wake up every day terrified that basketball—the thing I love most—could be taken from me in an instant? One injury, one wrong step, and it’s over.” She exhales sharply. “But if I spent my whole life running from happiness, I’d never have anything.”

My chest tightens.

Dominique reaches for my hand, threading our fingers together. “You don’t have to let go of your fear all at once. But let me help you carry it.”

I feel something crack inside me, something I’ve held onto for too long.

And for the first time in a long, long time… I want to believe her.

⸻

It doesn’t happen overnight.

I still hesitate when Dominique reaches for me in public. I still flinch when I feel too happy, waiting for the inevitable crash.

But Dominique stays.

She takes me on small dates—ones that don’t feel overwhelming. She holds my hand when I need grounding. She reminds me, over and over again, that joy isn’t a trick.

And one night, months later, as we lay tangled in her sheets, her heartbeat steady against my ear, I realize something.

I’m happy.

And for the first time, I don’t want to run from it.

⸻

Author’s Note:

Cherophobia is a real condition that can make joy feel like a threat. Healing takes time, and love—whether romantic or platonic—can be an anchor through the storm. If you or someone you know struggles with this, you’re not alone.

And you deserve happiness.

---

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                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[sgojoenthusiast]

needy.

✧.* miguel o’hara x reader

summary:

miguel is suffering with the side effects of his vampirism: the insatiable hunger. you, a doctor, will stop at nothing to help him, no matter what. it’s your job, afterall.

cw: smut, biting, lowkey vampire sex, rough, i didnt do amazing in my gcse spanish course so i’m sorry for the rough attempt at miguel speaking spanish LMAO, hardly proof read mb, bit of oral (f receiving), mentions of blood, pain and injury. fem reader.

word count: 2.1k

likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

-`♡´-

He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t resist. His brain felt like it was begging to break out of his skull. Everything hurt, but it wasn’t the kind of pain he could turn to you for help with.

It was the kind of pain that stemmed from the unfortunate bite all those years ago. A pain that derived from a never-ending hunger within him, resulting in constant hunger and sharpened fangs.

“Miguel, how many times do I have to say it? It’s my job. It’s what I'm paid to do! Just let me help you and we can-”

“No.” he cut you off sharply. When he had hired you after a particularly nasty fight that ended in a lot of spidermen injured but there was a lack of medics to help, he didn’t realise everything you did or said would have so much of an affect on him. If he had known, he would’ve never even looked in your direction because, god, you were intoxicating. “No puedo más, mierda. [i can’t anymore, fuck]. You can’t help me, okay? Just go home.” He seethed.

He wasn’t angry with you, never you. He was angry at how he had to turn your sweet words and caring touch away just because he couldn’t risk hurting you.

“You’re so frustrating, Miguel. you never let me help you.” He stood with his back to you, because he knew that if he looked behind him and saw you standing with your arms folded, a cute pout on your lips and the smooth skin of your neck on display, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back anymore.

If he ever came close to hurting you, even if somehow the domino effect of something he did led to you getting injured, he would never forgive himself for as long as he lived. You were only human, you weren’t a spider like the rest of them. You were fragile, and couldn’t protect yourself as well as you could save others. 

“You should know by now I won't stop until I get what I want.” you began walking up behind him. “You’re clearly struggling with something. your breathing is heavy, you haven’t been walking or talking properly since you came back from your mission.” a sudden realisation popped into your brain. “You didn’t hit your head on your mission today, did you? Miguel- you told me there wasn’t a scratch on you, I can’t help you if you’re lying to me.”

Finally, he turned around to face you, his head hung low but he could see every inch of your perfect body. No longer could he restrain himself from the all-consuming thirst he felt as he flashed his fangs and suddenly appeared in front of you, pinning you against the wall.  “No quiero ayuda. [I don't want your help]. I just want it to stop.”

You tilted your head up at him. There wasn’t an ounce of fear in your eyes despite your position and he felt his heart stop. “You aren’t scared?” He breathed out. His eyes were wide and red. His heart was beating increasingly fast and his throat was getting dry.

He was so used to being the one people would cower around. Yet with you, you always seemed to defy his expectations. He stood in front of you, restraining himself from killing you, and yet you had barely even blinked.

You moved your hair out of the way of your neck, causing him to try and push himself away from you but you grabbed his wrist before he could. “It’s my job to help you. That’s why I'm here. So let me help you.”

He found it so hard to disobey you when you looked up at him so gently. Yet it was that look that reminded him of his affection towards you and made him shake his head profusely in denial. He refused to hurt you, even when you asked him to.

You pulled him by his wrist, closer to you, tempting him in as he complied thoughtlessly. His mind was reeling with the thought that it was your hand touching his wrist. It was your hand that slowly traced up his back and it was your fingers that threaded through his hair at that moment. Slowly, you guided his head down towards your open neck as every doubt inside his mind froze against his will. All of his morals disappeared. Everything he stood by, his dedication to protecting you, gone within a minute of you delicately caressing him.

“Please, Miguel, let me help you.”

When you pleaded with him so innocently, when your words slipped so tenderly from your pretty lips, he could no longer hold himself back. The shackles he’d chained himself to for so long, the restraints he’d built with his bare hands, crumbled like castles.

His sharp fangs sunk themselves into the crook of your neck and you whimpered slightly in pain, biting your lip.

Miguel lost himself in the taste of you as he forced you up harder against the wall. Still, it wasn’t enough. He needed his entire body against yours. He grabbed your leg, wrapping it around his waist as he continued to slowly suck the blood from your neck.

His hands pawed against you and massaged your hips. You felt yourself growing increasingly more wet at the feeling of him pressed up so close against you with his lips against your neck.

Somehow, the pain faded as you got used to it and all you could feel was the sensation you got as he ground himself against you, overpowered with need and moaning into your neck.

His head was spinning as his blood pumped vigorously. He’d never experienced such a high, such an addictive drug that devoured him whole and swallowed him completely.

You could feel how much he needed this. The feeling of peace and pleasure overshadowed the one of pain, yet, as you felt yourself go faint, you began to shake yourself out of the trance his lips against your neck put you in. In an odd way, you’d let him drink from you forever if it meant the feeling of his skin against yours.

You tapped his waist, urging him off you as he withdrew.

You placed your hand against your neck as a sudden pang of soreness washed over you. However, the sight before you was one you’d never forget as you looked up to meet his eyes. His lips stained with your blood before he wiped it away sent a strange sensation down your back as you closed your legs.

“Thank you, mi dulce niña. [my sweet girl].” he took your face between his thumb and index finger. Your faces were unbearably close. The desire to taste your own blood on his lips consumed you as your eyes flickered between his and his lips.

You stood against the wall of the empty hallway to his room in silence, your bodies begging for each other yet your mouths too shy to make it known.

Instead, he opted for silently taking you down the dimly lit corridor to his room, his fingers intertwined with yours.

The second his door closed, your back was against it. His lips finally pressed against yours as you sighed in contentment. Once again, your leg was hiked up as he caressed the supple skin of your thigh.

A rough yet gentle hand made its way up to your face as he ran his thumb up and down against your cheek. “I need you so bad. You don’t know what you’ve done to me. Everyday, I think about you. Your lips, your voice, your smile, your hips. I can’t fucking get enough of you and it kills me that I cant physically be as close to you as I want to be.” he murmured against your lips whilst you breathed shaky breaths against his.

You didn’t know what to say, or how to put your feelings into words because he had already summed it up so perfectly for you. “I can’t get enough of you either.”

He carried you to the bed and placed you down, his touch never once leaving your skin except to take his suit off.

Your hand ran across the scars of his chest, some you had fixed up yourself, up to his neck where you pulled him against you once more. He struggled to get your uniform off quickly with the continuous kiss and lack of sense as the thought of you naked beneath him fogged up his mind.

Miguel broke the kiss, and the sight of you with your hair splayed out across the mattress, skin glistening and your eyes half-lidded with lust had him weak in the knees as his dick grew harder against your thigh.

The moonlight peaked out past the gaps of his curtains, highlighting your frame and making him desperate.

He began to kiss down your body, leaving marks across your collarbone where he would occasionally bite.

He sucked and licked your nipples gently as you writhed beneath his touch, desperately yearning for more of his rough touch.

“I need you, miguel.”

“Patient now, mi dulce niña. [my sweet girl]” he replied, looking up at you from between your legs as he slowly began kissing down towards where you needed him so badly. He stroked your thighs and nipped at them harshly, yet the pain merged so beautifully with the pleasure that it all became one big blur.

He asked you to be patient, but after so long of longing stares and discreet touches, being patient was the last thing on your mind as you bucked your hips up, itching for his touch.

“Niña mala [bad girl]. What did I just tell you?” he snarled.

“Please, Miguel, I'm begging you. I’ve waited so long- I can’t be patient anymore.” you pleaded with him. It seemed to be enough to convince him as he brought your hips up to his face and flicked his tongue skillfully against your pussy as you gasped surprisingly.

He moved his tongue rhythmically, snatching pleas and moans from your lips. It wasn’t too long before he slid in one of his fingers... then another. He thrusted them inside you relentlessly, praising you for taking what he was giving you without another complaint.

His tongue and his fingers combined clouded your senses and made you feel as though nothing - no one - would ever come close to satisfying you so well. However, just as you clenched around him, he pulled out. You whined and cried for him to stop playing around, but he simply ignored you.

Miguel needed to feel you come around his dick if you were going to come anywhere. He needed you both to finish together. He craved the feeling of your bodies merging together in that haze of relief and exhaustion before he pulled out.

He moved back up to your face and your eyes locked; a feeling rushed over you that made your heart swell. You don’t think you could ever get enough of him.

He grabbed his painfully hard dick, stroking it against your folds. You bucked against him hopelessly. Luckily, he took the hint and slid himself somewhat smoothly inside of you, though the pain of the stretch was inevitable.

Your hands immediately went to his back, gripping on as if it would save you. Miguel groaned at the pain as he pulled back slightly and thrusted harshly back in.

He noticed the bite marks on your neck, and the blood that still gradually fell from it due to the lack of treatment. He leaned down, licking the blood up and moaning as he pounded himself into you savagely.

Everything was overwhelming. The feeling of him licking and sucking the blood from your neck, the pain of your hands clawing down his back, the unrelenting pummelling inside of you and the sounds of skin against skin and voices intertwining in the air.

It sent you both spiralling.

“ ‘m g’nna- come, Miguel.” you heaved out.

His hand trailed down to your aching pussy as he slid a finger against your clit and began rubbing viciously. Your moans dominated the room at the extra pleasure as you began to slip from your control.

“Come with me.” he demanded as he hammered inside of you without any remorse.

It was everything you had both dreamed it would be and more. The feeling of letting go together shook you both as you clenched around him, sucking him in, and as he shot his load inside of you.

You both lay there for what felt like an eternity of comfort and serenity. Your bodies pressed up against each other with your eyes closed, just soaking up the moment without any anxieties or thoughts.

However, to your dismay, Miguel pulled back. He took your face in his palm again, marvelling at your vulnerable state. He would be the only one to see you like this.

He placed his forehead against yours as your breaths became synchronised along with your heartbeats, creating the sound of peace and belonging.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: read the extra here.

☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟsgojoenthusiast

[reminiscingtonight]

Meeting Morgan

Leah Williamson x Morgan!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Sisterly Love Masterlist

[WOSO Masterlist]

Collapsing onto your back, you can’t help but let out an exhausted groan. 

God are you sweaty. And sore. 

There’s always good sweatiness and soreness and bad sweatiness and soreness, but with the screams still echoing in your ears, this is definitely one of the good ones. Especially more so when you see the grinning face in front of you. 

Letting her pull you into her arms, you all but bury yourself against your sister’s neck. 

“You played great today, junior.”

“Thanks mom,” you snark back, punching her lightly in the arm when you hear her nickname for you.

Alex rolls her eyes. “It wouldn’t kill you to compliment me every once in a while too, you know. Even old ladies like me need a little bit of praise every now and then.”

Clearing your throat, you muster up a faux serious face. “Sorry. I meant to say you did a really great job getting put onto your ass by my girlfriend, ma’am!”

Your phrase is punctuated by a sharp salute, and you’re quick to duck away before Alex can put you into a headlock. 

The first time it happened, it was a pretty great tackle if you do say so yourself. Yes, you and Leah weren’t on the same team tonight, but the soccer connoisseur in yourself couldn’t help but admire great skill and form when you saw it. But then it happened again. And again. By the fourth time Leah tackled your sister, you had to physically put yourself between the two of them to stop Alex from getting herself a card. 

Though you wouldn’t have dared to say anything while the game was going on, now that it was over and you guys have secured yourselves a win, you know that you can tease Alex about it all you want. 

“You don’t even need to introduce the two of us anymore. I’d say Leah and I are quite acquainted now with the number of times she tackled me,” comes her retort. 

Despite the nonchalant way Alex says it, you can still see right through her. 

You couldn’t count on one hand the number of times Alex has bugged you about introducing her to Leah. And that’s not even counting the way she’s blown up your phone prior to the USWNT’s arrival in England. The second she caught sight of you, your sister has hung around like glue, every other word being about when you were planning on pulling your girlfriend out of hiding. 

A soft hand brushing against your back has you turning away from Alex. Your face breaks out into a grin when you see a familiar face. “Hey Keira.”

The midfielder is quick to return your hug, chuckling at the over-excited way you look over her shoulder in hopes of catching sight of your girlfriend. 

“You don’t mind if I steal her away, do you?” The question’s directed towards Alex, but your sister shakes her head, knowing full well where you’re headed.

You’re more than happy to follow as the Lioness takes you to the other side of the field. From the looks of things, Leah’s deep in conversation with a couple of her teammates. About what you couldn’t be too sure, but you’re instantly coming up with a plan. 

Putting a finger up to your lip, you tilt your head towards the group. Keira instantly gets your drift, a devious look on her face as she gives you a nod in agreement. 

Georgia notices you first. She spots your approach from miles away, noting the way your eyes are gleaming with mischief. She only has time to roll her eyes at you before Leah’s following her gaze. 

Blue eyes light up with delight when she catches sight of you.

It’s a bit comedic how you and Keira instantly deflate. The two of you will just have to wait for another day to cause mayhem.

“Hi babe.”

“Don’t ‘hi babe’ me. I’m mad at you.”

Your pout is instantaneous. “Babe,” you repeat, winding your arms around Leah’s waist. You know you’ve already won when you see the hints of a smile on her lips. 

Leah still tries to act annoyed, scrunching up her nose at you. “You’re so sweaty.”

“Kettle meet pot,” you roll your eyes, wiping at her forehead with your sleeve.

Leah’s quick to tangle her fingers with yours when your hand drops away from her face. She pulls your intertwined hands back up to her lips, pressing a light kiss against the back of yours. You can’t stop the instantaneous flushing of your cheeks. 

Georgia lets out a hoot, teasing the two of you, but Keira’s quick to drag her away, providing you two a bit of privacy. You make a mental note to thank her later. 

“You know how much of a sore loser I am. You couldn’t let Lessi score a couple more goals or anything?”

You throw your head back, laughing at the pout that’s now present on Leah’s face. “I’m sure I’d get kicked off the team if I let all of the forwards get past me.”

“Well not all of them. Just Less.”

You laugh again, drawing Leah into your arms. She instantly sags against you, tightening her grip around your body. 

“I’ve missed you.” The words are spoken directly into your neck, but you still manage to hear them.

“You saw me last week.”

You can almost feel Leah rolling her eyes at you. Rather than answer, she presses a discreet kiss against your skin. It takes everything in you not to let it show how flustered you’re starting to get.

“I’m trying to sweet talk you and all you’re going to focus on is how wrong I am?”

“Sorry babe. I missed you too.” It’s spoken with a little laugh, but both of you can hear the truth behind your words. 

Ever since getting together, it’s rare to not go more than a couple days without seeing each other. Even when going away for your national team camps, the two of you always made sure to facetime each other whenever possible, whether that meant losing a couple hours of sleep just to catch the other. However, this time around neither of you have been able to sneak away much alone time. Leah’s been busy with her captaining duties while your national teammates have been trying to soak up as much time as they can with you before they inevitably leave across the ocean again.

“Just a couple more days.” Just a couple more days before you’ll finally finish your round of games. Just a couple more days until you can put back on the familiar red and white you’ve come to call home. Just a couple more days and you can curl up in your girlfriend’s arms, not having to worry about leaving them for at least a couple more months.

Leah hums but doesn’t say anything else. 

For the next couple moments the two of you just try to soak all of it in. 

Wembley is crazy. It’s huge, it’s beautiful, it’s what every soccer player could only dream of. But you’re here. And so is Leah. Though not on the same team, at least you get to experience this together. 

Pressing one last kiss against Leah’s hairline, you pull away. She’s instantly pouting your way, sad of the missing heat. 

“Go out to dinner with us tonight?”

Leah starts to say something before she stiffens, eyes looking a couple inches above your shoulder. 

You don’t have to turn around to know she’s made accidental eye contact with your sister.

“Us as in…”

“Alex wants to meet you,” you apologetically confirm. You could only put this off so long before Alex takes it into her own hands. At least this way you’re able to control when and where it’ll happen. 

Almost as if she can sense the discussion surrounding her, Alex materializes right by your side. Leah almost jumps by how quickly the forward does so, but you’re quick to glare at your sister. 

Your eyes tell her everything you want to voice. 

Be nice. 

Alex rolls her eyes in response. Placing her arms around your shoulder, she all but shoves you out of the way so she’s standing in front of Leah herself. 

Scowling at Alex, you brush yourself off. You know she definitely hears your grumbled curses as you carefully come to stand beside your girlfriend. 

“Five.”

“Pardon?” Leah blinks, a bit confused by what Alex is trying to say. You’re a bit confused yourself, eyebrows furrowing in slight concern. 

“I know five different ways to make you disappear without a trace. You know, just in case you break my sister’s heart.”

“Alex!” Your jaw drops as you turn red.

“And trust me when I say no one will ever be able to prove anything.”

“Alex!” you hiss, this time with more vigor. 

Leah is quick to give your side a squeeze. She meets Alex’s eyes evenly. “If I ever break her heart, you’re probably going to have to get behind all of our Arsenal teammates who would be more than happy to help you make me disappear.”

“Leah, don’t encourage her!” you groan, dropping your head against her shoulder. 

Alex’s lip quirks up, amused by Leah’s response. Her eyes narrow a bit before she’s letting out a hum. “I like you.”

Leah lets out an awkward chuckle. “Thank you?”

For the second time in mere minutes, Alex bodies you out of the way, sliding up beside Leah as she loops an arm around your girlfriend’s shoulder. Alex’s serious face has dropped, and you’re not sure you like what you see there as she starts leading Leah away from you. 

“Now that we’ve got the whole shovel talk out of the way, which embarrassing story do you want to hear first?”

“Alexandra!”

You’re left chasing after them, cursing at Alex as you try to stop your sister from spilling any secrets.

[gojooooo]

here’s an old concept that i’ve decided to post because i just know it’s never going to upgrade from wip to actual fleshed out thing. very cute and silly hehe. takes place at some point during the culling games.

sukuna closes his eyes, suddenly unable to protect himself with his two other arms, and waits for a blow that never comes. when he opens his eyes, yuuji’s fist is frozen mid air while he looks down at sukuna with wide eyes.

“why do you look like that.” the young sorcerer, who has sukuna pinned down on the ground, releases the curse’s arms from under his knees and when sukuna goes to run a hand through his hair he feels a familiar buzzcut tickling his fingers.

“ugh. get off me, brat”

“why.”

god, he’s so stubborn.

“i said get off me” sukuna insists and when he tries to sit up yuuji sits back and both men hiss when he presses down right where sukuna’s crotch is, effectively grinding down on him.

“don’t you think you should move” sukuna deadpans, cheeks red and breath caught in his throat.

“it gets the job done at keeping you still so i’m not moving” yuuji pouts, determined, cheeks equally red.

sukuna has barely the time to roll his eyes when hana and fushiguro approach the two men.

“ohohoh, would you look at that” chuckles a voice that doesn’t belong to either of the two teens.

“shut the fuck up angel” sukuna is quick to retort, his irritation growing at the sudden audience that his rather embarassing reflex is getting.

“what does it mean?” yuuji insists, desperately looking for an answer.

“just like a predator turns into a bunny when wounded and cornered, a weakened curse is reduced to the form their heart subconsciously clings to the most.”

“fuck off. that doesn’t apply to me”

“it applies to everyone, king of curses or not” the mouth on hana’s cheek curls up in a smirk.

“should’ve killed you when i had the chance” sukuna grumbles and finally pushes yuuji off of him, whose guard is down because he’s processing the information and he lets himself be pushed back, not missing how sukuna doesn’t actually shove him too hard and makes sure to stabilize him before his hand leaves his chest.

later that night, yuuji is on his old middle school roof.

when he hears footsteps he immediately turns around with his fists up in the air and glowing of a beautiful blue.

“relax, brat. just me” sukuna mockingly raises his hands in the air before shoving them back into his pockets. “jeez, when did you become so nervous?”

“take a wild guess” yuuji deadpans, lowering his hands.

“right” sukuna chuckles, passing by him and going to stand at the edge of the roof.

yuuji dumbly stares at him until sukuna calls him out. “stop fucking staring” he mutters, closing his eyes and furrowing his eyebrows.

yuuji is quick to look away and he walks up to sukuna, going to stand next to him. “sorry! it’s just so weird seeing you like this”

sukuna sighs. “it’s the same as it was”

“except you can walk away and anywhere you want” yuuji says quietly.

sukuna curiously looks at him for a moment. “does it bother you?” he asks, trying to make it sound casual.

“no” yuuji replies, then, “not the having-my-face part, at least” he adds.

sukuna hums, pleased by yuuji’s subtle confession.

“are you alright? i haven’t heard anything about you destroying half of japan yet” the boy smiles, looking up at the stars. they look especially bright on this night.

“i don’t have my full powers anymore”

“maybe you can’t cross your arms twice to show double disappointment but i’m pretty sure you can still slice everyone in half”

“alright well i don’t care for it. i’m just gonna do whatever until i die again”

“oh?” yuuji turns to him.

“i’ve changed perspective is all” sukuna mutters and when yuuji just keeps staring he sighs. “you made me reevaluate things, is that what you wanna hear?”

“only if it’s the truth” yuuji’s lips curl up in a smile and sukuna can’t help but match his expression.

“why are you here anyway?”

“i could ask you the same thing” yuuji shrugs, doing very little to hide his intention to be difficult just because. brat.

“i’m obviously not gonna tell you first” sukuna replies, because what is he if not the everlasting opponent of yuuji’s teasing game.

“how about we say it at the same time and we’re absolutely honest about it?”

risking trusting a curse, huh? you never learn, itadori yuuji.

“and what if my answer is pathetic and yours isn’t?”

“i give you permission to slice me in half. wouldn’t be a first anyways”

“you give me permission, hm?” sukuna chuckles. “deal”

yuuji slowly counts down as he turns to sukuna and his cheeks turn pink.

“…because i’ve been missing you”

“…because this stupid human heart has been yearning for your presence.”

“oh.”

“hm” sukuna smiles, delighted, as silence stretches between them for a few seconds.

“come again?!” yuuji exclaims after realization fully hits him.

“that’s the best you’ll get, brat” sukuna chuckles, “take it for leave it.”

yuuji goes to stand in front of sukuna.

“you’re blocking my view”

“i am your view. do you really mean that?”

sukuna smiles, half amused and half fond. “i never say things i don’t mean” he mutters as he cups yuuji’s face with his hand.

yuuji leans forward and takes sukuna’s face between his hands, kissing him slowly, then fervently, hungrily, the urge between them spilling out more and more. sukuna kisses yuuji back as he puts his other hand on the small of yuuji’s back, pulling him closer until their bodies collide. it’s not enough. it’s not enough. they need to be one again.

yuuji breaks the kiss, his body gasping for air, but tries to go back for more. sukuna smiles against his lips, slightly tilting his head up. “breathe, yuuji” he whispers.

yuuji groans at that. “again” he mutters between short breaths.

“yuuji…” sukuna complies, filling the moment by starting to pepper yuuji’s neck with kisses. “yuuji, yuuji, yuuji…” he whispers sweetly as yuuji tilts his head back to grant him more access, sighing at the use of his given name.

[scarletwitchproperty]

Can't remember what I used to fight for - Chapter 4

masterlist

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal, Rio Vidal x Wanda Maximoff, a teeny tiny whisper of Agatha x Rio x Wanda

Words: 953 words (the shortest of the story, I promise T-T )

Summary: Rio being a proper menace, again

Warnings: none

‘’SHE WHAT?!’’

‘’Now, Wanda, let’s all calm down a little bit, yeah?’’ 

‘’I’ll show you calm!’’ 

Without so much as a blink, Wanda threw up her hand covered by her chaos magic and sent Rio crashing through the wall right by the entrance. 

‘’God fucking hell Wanda, almost! She said almost!’’ Rio coughs as she stands up, picking out pieces of dry wall out of her hair. She knows that deep down this is nothing but a way for the witch to let out all that she is feeling, after all she did fight like this with Agatha too. ‘’And clearly, Billy’s still alive so I didn’t do anything!’’ 

‘’You almost killed my son!’’ 

‘’Yes, and? Reaping souls is my literal fucking job! He fucking stole a kid’s body, a kid who should’ve died and I was denied what I was owed!’’ Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say. Wanda quite literally crashes into Rio herself and into the staircase, wrapping her right hand around the green witch’s throat. ‘’Jeez woman, buy me a drink first!’’ 

‘’I FUCKING HATE YOU!’’ 

‘’No you don’t little witch,’’ Rio says very calmly, managing to lift up her head so that her mouth ends up right next to Wanda’s ear. She blows on it, pleased to feel the other witch shivering in response, the hold on her throat loosening a little. ‘’At least let me explain. I was owed a soul, because I thought I was cheated out of one.’’ 

‘’Keep…keep talking.’’ 

‘’And what a surprise it was to me that when I went to rip Billy’s soul out of his body-‘’ Rio knows that was just poking the bear, phrasing her words like she just did, but she found it funny how easy it was to get a reaction out of the other woman. Nonetheless, she kept going. ‘’There was not only your precious son’s soul, but also that of the young William Kaplan, who did die. Can your pretty little head guess what I did then?’’ 

‘’…You took William and let my Billy live?’’ Rio nods, and that’s all Wanda needs to release the other witch. Her entire body goes into shock, curling in on itself while she’s still over Rio. The green witch, for her part, doesn’t seem that bothered to become Wanda’s new armchair. ‘’Oh god I’m so sorry Rio, I didn’t-I shouldn’t have attacked you! I keep messing everything up I’m so sorry!’’ 

‘’While I appreciate the apology, I can’t feel pain and what you just did does not even come close to the level of torture one has to inflict on me to make me feel something.’’ Rio wraps her arms around the other witch, a sneaky little finger resting on Wanda’s skin under her t-shirt. ‘’It’s okay, really.’’ 

‘’…stop that…’’ 

‘’Stop what little witch?’’ 

‘’…that thing you’re doing with your finger,’’ Wanda says as she rights herself up, hands on Rio’s shoulder to support herself. ‘’It’s distracting.’’ 

‘’What? This innocent little thing?’’ 

Rio wiggles her pinky finger at eye level while her occupied hand continues to sneak its way under Wanda’s clothes. The green witch’s entire hand now rests on Wanda’s back, right over the clasp of her bra. Rio toys with it a little, enjoying the squirming and blushing it gets her from Wanda. 

‘’I said-I said stop…!’’ 

‘’You don’t really mean that, do you little witch?’’ Rio very swiftly pulls on Wanda’s hair with as little force as possible, smirking when the younger witch puts a hand over her mouth to muffle the embarrassingly loud moan that everyone in the house was almost made aware of. ‘’See? Still so responsive for me sweet cheeks, so…delectable.’’ 

‘’Don’t you have a wife?’’ 

‘’Did you not see how she looked at-‘’ 

‘’RIO!’’ Billy, because of course the teen would come to check on his mother, comes running to the scene when he can’t hear them fight anymore. He’s confused and a little bit angry at the position they’re in when he sees them. ‘’That’s my mother right there get your hands off of her!’’ 

‘’You’re no fun, Teen. Besides,’’ Rio makes a show of looking Billy right in the eye as she licks the smallest of wound still present Wanda’s left cheek to heal it, relishing in the full body shiver she got in response from the witch and the exasperated groan from said witch’s son. ‘’You don’t see her complaining.’’ 

‘’You don’t know that, maybe she’s…maybe she’s cursing you in her head right now!’’ 

‘’That’s cute Billy, but I’m pretty sure she’s not,’’ Agatha takes her time to arrive, stopping right next to Billy. She raises both eyebrows at the state of her wife and the Scarlet Witch, calculating eyes noticing all the young witch’s tells. ‘’Don’t you two look cosy.’’ 

‘’We are very cosy right now,’’ Rio continues to hug Wanda against her, not that it’s any hard to stay in position as the other woman doesn’t have it in her to move away. She’s perfectly content right where she is, weirdly enough. ‘’In fact, why don’t you join us?’’ 

‘’Nope, nope, nope. I can’t watch this,’’ Billy declares out loud, yanking his mother away from Death herself. Wanda almost whines at the loss of contact, almost being the key word, but she catches herself before the sound can even make it passed her lips when she sees who’s dragging her away. ‘’My mom is off limits do you hear me? If I see your hands on her one more time I’ll find a way to cut them off.’’ 

‘’But mommy already had hers on miss Wanda back in the forest?’’ 

‘’Nicky, we’re going to have to teach you how to keep a secret, yeah?’’ 

a/n: I promise this is the only chapter less than 1k words lmao I don't even remember why I made it so short

[sankttealeaf]

putting rue's letters she wrote to gale and gortash under the cut because idk where else to post them but the world has to read them too

i doubt theres any way to include them in the main fic because a) gale wont read his because rue is alive and b) gortash thinks its another taunt from orin and also won't read his

stupid men.

Gale, my love.

Please know there is nothing you could have done to change my mind.

With each day that passes I feel worse and worse with myself and you deserve something better than I can give right now. I’ve not been honest with you and the guilt is eating me alive, though I know it will be nothing compared to the hatred you will feel for me. I tried, countless times, to speak to you about this in person but my words get tangled in my throat and I end up pretending everything’s okay.

Everything is awful.

Since arriving in the city, since meeting Gortash, since getting a place here at the Elfsong I have lied to you every single day. You may already know, in fact I think you’re smart enough to have found out somehow.

I’ve been meeting with Gortash in secret. It started as a desperate attempt to regain my past but as each night went by and he told me less and less I realised I was going to him for other reasons. We’ve kissed. That’s the furthest we ever went. I need you to know this.

I’m going to finish this. By the time you’ve read this, there’s a high chance I may be dead. I want to end Orin, to destroy the temple of Bhaal and renounce my blood but I know that I will most likely not survive the outcome.

I love you. I really do. I think you were the first person I’ve ever said those words to. Love doesn’t sit well within me but with you it’s as easy as breathing. You were the best part of all of this and I’m glad fate fucked me so we could meet. You were the kindest person to me despite everything wrong in my blood and I have never felt hope as strongly as I have when I’m with you. I wish things were different. I would have loved going to Waterdeep with you, to meet Tara properly, to meet your mother, to have a nice life away from all this. There’s no soft endings for people like me. I understand that now.

And I’m sorry it has to end this way.

All my love,

Rue.

Gortash.

One day, you will die. Not by my hand, but by someone else’s who deserves to get their vengeance on the cruelties you put them through. If I could I would throw you to the masses for them to rip and tear into you but even then I think that death is too kind.

I didn't plan on writing this, nor am I entirely sure what I’m supposed to say. What do you say to someone you can’t ever remember loving? I truly believe she loved you. Rumour, that is. We both know we aren’t the same person anymore and it’s easier to think about her as a separate entity. Maybe that’s how I cope with what I’ve done. What we’ve done.

I think she loved you in such a way that it hurts me to see you go. Which is why I won’t be there. The thought of you dying kills me but I know I’m not supposed to feel like that. We were to die in each other’s arms when the whole world took its last breath. I can’t see you die before then.

I’m confronting Orin. Part of me knows that whatever happens, one of us will die. Maybe it will be me. Maybe this time she’ll finish the job. Or maybe Bhaal despises us both so much he plucks the blood from our bodies and kills us both. I’m fine with either.

I’m fine with death. A world with such kindness in it isn’t made for cruel hands like mine. I think I understand that now. I can only be forgiven if I leave this plane and that’s what I’m doing.

If our gods allow it, I would like to wait for you. Perhaps we can reconnect after death. You said that we will always find each other and I hope that whatever comes next for me, I will find you again. Maybe I’ll be a bird that nests outside your window. Maybe then I’ll finally feel free.

Enver. You were her friend. She did love you. I need you to know that. I’m sorry it’s come down to this. There’s no other way.

Forgive me.

Rue.

[all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth]

All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Drive (6x02)

It ended just as it had begun: seeing red.

This morning she was cooking, just like she had every morning they’d been together, and then she got a nosebleed — the first nosebleed he’d ever seen her get in their twenty years of marriage. She tried to smile and reassure him that she was okay, but it was hard to take her word for it when the blood had seeped into her mouth and stained her teeth crimson. 

A few hours later, he was staring at her blood oozing down the side of a cop’s window.

Patrick didn’t initially realize that’s what he was looking at. It was like his mind turned the splatter into a Rorschach test out of pure self-preservation. Was it the reflection of the Nevada terrain on the window? Did he burst a blood vessel in his eye? He would have gladly accepted any explanation over the truth.

“Guns down! Guns down!” someone screamed.

“No one has discharged their weapon, sir!” another voice replied.

“Vicky?” he called out, swallowing harshly against the gritty dirt that mixed with the saliva in his mouth.

He found himself missing the cacophony of noise that had been following him for the past few hours. The sickening silence of no one knowing what to say was worse than anything he’d ever heard.

“Help her!” he screamed at the man staring inside the back seat.

The man gently opened the back door and quickly fell to his knees as he tried to keep Vicky’s slumped form from hitting the ground.

From his vantage point, he could see his favorite spot to kiss her was no longer there, only viscera, bone, and red.

So much red.

* * *

“So, want to tell us how this all began, O.J.?”

Patrick kept his gaze steady on the interrogation room table, but in his periphery, he saw the other agent elbow the comedian before clearing his throat.

“We just want to say we’re really sorry about your loss, Patrick.”

“Mr. Crump,” he replied. His voice was hoarse from screaming, but he’d be damned if he took a sip from the bottle of water they’d given him.

“I’m sorry?”

Raising his face to meet the stare of the rookie cop, he seethed, “It’s Mr. Crump to you.”

The kid had the decency to look chagrined and nodded politely. “Can you tell us what happened?”

Pointedly, the older cop added, “From the beginning.”

He couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do less, but he was too exhausted to fight anymore. “My wife wasn’t feeling good this morning. Got a nosebleed, then the worst headache I’ve ever seen.”

“What was wrong with her?” 

Patrick wrung his hands in frustration, only for it to serve as a reminder that they’d taken his wedding band from him as ‘evidence.’ “My neighbor, Lois, she suffers from these things called cluster headaches. Said it’s the worst pain a human being can experience. I thought that might be what Vicky had, but fifteen minutes after the nosebleed, she looked like she was just… screaming. I’ve never heard anything like that before, so I wanted to take her down the road to Lovelace Medical Center.”

Two sets of eyebrows shot up, but the younger one was the first to comment. “You realize you overshot Lovelace by nearly 100 miles?”

“Keep driving, Patrick! Oh my god, it’s killing me. You have to keep going!”

“I know,” he sighed.

“...why?” the older partner prodded before taking a swig from his thermos. The movement caused the fluorescent lights to cast a shine on the man’s golden wedding band, and Patrick felt the knife twist deeper. 

This oaf of a man got to come to work, fail to prevent another man’s wife from dying, and then go home and lay down with his own like nothing happened. Just another day on the job. Meanwhile, Vicky was dead. Last night they’d watched Leno, she gossiped about some of her coworkers, and he turned in early. He didn’t make last night special because he didn’t know it would be their last night. Then this morning, she died alone and in pain in the back of some pig’s car.

“Where’s my wife?” he seethed.

“We can’t-”

“Where’s my wife?!” he screamed, slamming his fist down on the table, ignoring how the cuffs bit into his wrists.

“The morgue. We need to investigate her death,” the younger cop explained, raising his hands as if he were trying to approach a wild animal.

Patrick bit the flesh of his inner cheek, trying to hold back tears as he imagined his wife. Vicky was so scared of the dark, and she was so claustrophobic. He didn’t want her to be in one of those metal boxes in the wall. He didn’t want her to be scared.

“Why did you keep driving?” the older man pushed, emphasizing each word pointedly.

“ I don’t want to die. Patrick, help me. I need you.”

“You act like this is the first weird thing to happen around here,” Patrick spat. He couldn’t explain the truth. They’d make a mockery of him. Worse, they’d make a mockery of her. 

They’d been normal yesterday. They’d done nothing wrong.

“Mr. Crump-”

“Don’t!” Patrick screamed. “You spray our food with poison. You pollute our water supply with chemicals. Don’t look at me like I should know what you did to her! I’ve seen it thousands of times over. You think we don’t matter, that we’re expendable. She mattered. Don’t you dare-”

“That’s enough,” the older officer shouted, standing up. He shook his head at the two-way mirror, and sighed “This isn’t going anywhere. Take him back to his cell, let the doctor check him out.”

Patrick didn’t know what they were expecting from him. He didn’t have the answers they were looking for. He didn’t know why she felt better when the car was headed west. He didn’t know why they couldn’t stop. 

All he knew was that his wife was dead.

Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Archive of Our Own!

@gaycrouton

[imthetunnelunderoceanblvd]

Haii, it was awesome to read something dark with the recoms and human fem reader. Maybe a part 2 with the others, I'llgive some short ideas for each.

like Mansk blackmailing reader ( coughOnlyFanscough) to get what he wants. He's got that hacker look

Ja being a medic, so he's gotta hang out a lot at the lab right? So he may use some aphrodisiac drug on reader 'accidentally'

Lopez kiNda looks like a dangerous guy with all of his tattoos. Maybe he scares off the others by threatening them or bullying reader into dating him.

Prager seems like Im nice but not actually. He could be a manipulator type.

yes. i swear i was going to write for the others too but i’m busyyy n my brains not working anymore :( i also made the ja one x male reader cuz idk what happened to me cuz im missing the feeling of being a dude idk omg.

rape/non-con. with the recoms.

part 1 ft. recom. miles quaritch & recom. lyle wainfleet.

1. mansk x single mother!fem!reader. 2. ja/alexander x m!reader.

warnings: vaginal fingering, lactation kink, gay oral sex (m. rec.), pet names, blackmailing, kidnapping?, humiliating, mentions of killing, no proofreading

mansk: you both agreed that its a one night thing. it was too much and you couldn’t handle not being filled anymore. it went nice and smooth and you liked it, you did, really. mansk knew that it was a one night stand and he was fine with it, really, didn’t even care, but the whole thing with you, how small your wrists were, how your tits fit perfectly in his hands, how the way your tummy bulged when he was thrusting into you, he had to record it. and he did. he thought if he recorded it, he could use it against you. and that’s exactly what he did.

“you have no other choice,” you looked at him in disbelief, did he really record the entire thing... why would he even do that, the questions swam in your head as you stared at him with wide eyes, “no, no, no, no i can’t i can’t we can’t this is so wrong. oh god. please just forget about it we can’t do this. let’s both forget about it, please, mansk, let’s not talk about it ever again, okay? please...” he let out a low chuckle, “no, doll, listen, you either go there to the table, bend over and lift your pretty skirt up and let me do you, or else i’ll show general ardmore everything. you know how strict she is with the rules and shit, it’s up to you, really, in the end you’re the one who will lose a job, not me.” it was true. you will end up losing everything you’ve worked hard for. you won’t even have enough money to raise your kid, to provide him a good life and a good school. you bit your lip and looked up at him, your glossy eyes meeting his yellow ones before your hands went to the hem of your skirt, lifting it up exposing your lower body to him, “lose the shirt too,” it came out of his mouth more of a suggestion rather than a command, and like the good girl you are you unbuttoned all the buttons exposing your chest to his hungry gaze, you felt like a slice of meat for him to devour.

“what are you waiting for?” mansk said, slightly annoyed, he wanted to feel your soft skin, wanted to kiss your plump lips, wanted to feel the soft texture of your hair, he wanted you. he couldnt take it anymore. couldn’t bare not being able to touch you, his face dropped when he saw you looking at your feet with a shade of pink tinting your cheek, he lifted you face up look at him using his index and thumb, “what is it what’s wrong pretty girl?” your eyes met his sharp ones, you swallowed the lump in your throat before replying, “i can’t bend i - i’m -” he just gave you a low ‘oh’ realizing what you were trying to say “it’s okay, baby, you’ll just lay down nd look pretty for me, okay?” you nodded your head and went to your bed and layed down on your bed, mansk was towering over you, his long legs spread on each side of your body as his hand fondling with your left breast, his mouth already kissing and sucking on your right breast, giving teasy licks to your already hard nipple before taking it in his mouth, his hand started massaging the skin as he sucked, you let out a high pitched moan as you his knee between your legs rubbing your heat as his mouth sucked harder and harder, it was too much. the way he was fondling with your sore tits, sucking and biting at the sensetive bud, your hand went to his face trying to push him off of your chest but you stopped when you felt the liquid gush out of your nipple and into his mouth, his hand started kneading your other breast.

mask let out a low growl at the feeling of your warm milk oozing out of your hard nipple and landing on your hand as he drank your pearly white milk still squeezing your tits, “s-stop please c-can’t do this nymore please,” his eyes met your glossy ones while your mascara was running down your bambi eyes.

you didnt even notice when he flipped you so he was laying on the bed and you were on top of him, didn’t even notice when his dick started running up and down your slit stopping at youe enterance just to tease you for a bit before sliding it inside of your warm gummy walls, the moan he let out made you even wetter knowing that you are the one who is making an alien feel that good, could you even deny that it made you feel good inside? made you feel warm? could you deny that you like the feeling of a big cock thrusting in and out of you?

the friction on your clit from his pubic bone along with the brutal thrusting of his cock was enough to make a knot form in your lower belly, you couldn’t even tell how long it’s been it sure was longer than 40 minutes from the way he was covered in sweat. he was close, you knew it from the way his chest was rapidly rising and falling a few more long and deep thrusts made you release all over him, coating him with a sticky clear liquid, his hands went from your hips to your waist, wrapping his arms around you as he brought you down to his chest, hearing his heart beat was calming and sad. knowing that hes doing this to you, oh how you wanted to tear his skin apart and rip his heart out of his body, but you couldn’t do anything, why would you anyway? after a few strokes you flet a warm liquid being pumped inside you, his hand petting your head, stroking your hair as he kissed your hair line, “let’s stay like this forever, y/n, just you and me and your child, i’ll protect you, sweetheart,” you sobbed at his words, how could he say that? how could he be in your and your sons life? “i hate you. i hate you. i hate you.” you yelled clawing at his chest as he kissed your head more making a few shh noises. you closed your eyes for a second and opened them again when you heard a loud cry, “let me go. my son needs me.”

ja: the first time he saw you was in the lab, opening his eyes to someone like you was a heavenly thing, he loved the way your hair would fall down on your face, the way your skillful hands touched his body, it was amazing, it was as if he was being electric shocked. oh how happy he was when you told him he’s doing a good job when he first opened his eyes, touching finger, feeling the rough skin of his fingertips, wriggling his toes, he wanted you to praise him more, it was not enough.

on one rainy night, you were protected in the warmth of your blankets, eyes closed, you groaned when you heard a knock on your door followed by ja’s voice, you hurridly got up and looked for your sweatpants, pulling them up to legs before slightly opening the door, “alexander. what brings you here?” you peeked out the door asking with a hint of annoyance in your tone, ja swallowed a bit already nervous, his hands sweating as he spoke “i, uh, i was out with the others, and we got attacked by nasty wolves, and they kind of, hurt my back and i can’t really reach the area, i was thinking maybe you could land me a hand?” you looked at him and opened the door for him, he towered and walked through the door and sat on your bed, “i’m sorry i didn’t have enough time to throw a shirt on, i’ll put one on right now if it’s bothering you,” “no no it’s okay i don’t - i don’t mind,” it was true. he didn’t mind, it was lovely to watch your chest, your toned abs, your tight chest, pink nipples, it was a heavenly sight, just like you.

“so you got attacked by a nantang?” you hummed and walked to your closet opening it and reaching for the first aid kit and walked back to him “imma gonna need you to take your shirt off,” he nodded his head and took off his shirt, you walked closer and sat behind him on the bed, your hands went to his back your fingers caressing the the wound on his back, “doesn’t look that bad, i’ll just disinfect it, it’s a tiny scratch,” you chuckled and dipped into the tiny bag and reached for a tiny neatly packaged stach of disinfectant wipes, tearing the paper and running the tiny cloth on the wound.

ja let out a hiss, “it hurts?”

“no. it does not,” you hummed and put the tiny cloth on the bed next to you, “all finished looks as good as a new,” you chuckeled and kissed the wound, how could a very innocent act turn him on? pathetic, he turned around and looked at you, “y/n, i,” his hand went to yours and putting it on his chest, “here - can you feel that? feel how my heart is beating, it is beating for you, y/n i want to kiss you, want to hold you, want you all for myself, please y/n, please, say yes, be with me, we can have a really nice live together. i’ll love you forever,” he smiled a little but his smile quickly dropped when you shook your head, “i’m sorry i can’t - i’m not a - i’m not into guys. i do appreciate your feelings though, and i won’t look at you in a different way, i’m your friend, ja,” you said and placed your hand on his shoulder giving a few gentle squeezes.

his heart was shattered, and all he was seeings was red maybe if he showed you a good time you’d give in and be with him, maybe you’re not sure of your sexuality! yes! that must be it, that was only alexanders mind playing jokes on him, cause everytime you touched him, smiled his way, or even laughed at his cheesy jokes it was friendly. all of it. he mistook the signs, he was uncapable of withdrawing his hand as it went to your throat, squeezing, making the air run out of your lungs, his lips crashed to yours, your eyes wide with tears, your face red, you couldn’t breath, you clawed at arms, slapped him on his head to no avail, his free hand was fondling with his belts, undoing his buttons and unzipping them and pulling his dick out, the way you were helpessly and patheticly squirming turned him even more.

his lips left your after what felt like forever for you and his hand went to your hair now, pulling you up to your as you let out a pained whimper, his hand stroking his hard member, with your mouth open letting out pained moans, with his left hand cupping you chin je maneuvered the head of my cock between his lips and you closed around it, unsure abd surprised of what he had put inside your mouth, immediately he pushed forward and sank a good seven inches into your mouth and down your throat, you gagged briefly, then settled, and didn’t pull away.

curiousity took over you and the tip of your tongue danced on his slit and he let our a groan.

“good boy, my good boy,” ja said and started rougly thrusting his cock in and out.

a lot of saliva was running down his shaft and his balls, he kept thrusting in and out, his big balls slapping on your chin as he towered over you, biting his lips, “that’s it, take it all - fuck yes - don-don’t stop, you like that, princess, don’t you?” it was humiliating and embarrassing how a few words made your face burn up, one: due to the lack of oxygen, two: due to the way he was spitting words at you.

with both of his hands on your head he pushed you all the way down, your nose burried in black wirey pubes, your hands went to his abs scratching and throwing punches, it started really strong and then it became weak punches, tears were filling your eyes, making your vision blurry and foggy, his cock pulsed a few times inside your throat before your eyes closed, your feet gave up and you sank to your knees, your hands went to your sides, unable to move anymore you were in a black like void.

he didn’t stop tho, still thrusting into you before pulling out and cumming on your face, his seed landing on your eyes, forehead, cheeks, and nose, even your hair didn’t survive the semen rain.

“you’re comin’ back with me.” ja said as he succuried you in his arms.

@tieflingteeth

[writingfanficsfan]

Sherstrade wip.

“What are you doing?” 

“Evening, Lestrade.” 

“What are you doing in my bed, Sherlock?” Greg asks, his stomach doing a flip when Sherlock shifts and his naked chest is exposed for a moment. Sherlock reaches for the sheets, Greg’s sheets, to cover himself before giving Greg a bored look. 

“Resting.” 

“Resting?” 

“Yes. It’s been a long day. For both of us, I imagine.” Sherlock says, eyes going over Greg and Greg instantly straitens, shoulders pulling back, sucking in his stomach. It’s almost on autopilot now, not wanting to show Sherlock how tired he is or how old he feels. Not that Sherlock would comment on either of those things but still, it’s hard not to think about it when a gorgeous man like Sherlock is looking at him. Looking at him from inside his bed, clearly without a shirt on. 

Greg clears his throat, pulling off his tie and placing it on the dresser, very aware of Sherlock’s eyes on him. 

“You’re not wrong about that. The paperwork is going to be hell. How is-” Greg gestures to Sherlock’s cheek, seeing a faint blue shimmer to it. 

“It’s manageable. I’ve had worse.” Sherlock answers, touching his cheek, shrugging a shoulder, and making one side of the sheet fall down again. 

“It was stupid. Going after him like that.” Greg says, ignoring Sherlock’s naked shoulder as best he can. Irritation builds up again as he remembers that moment. Sherlock running after one suspect without backup. Greg worried half out of his mind because he couldn’t go after him. Snapping at Sally when she finally was there so he could hand his suspect over and then rush after Sherlock. Angry with himself when he started to run and his legs began to ache, another reminder that he was getting older. His near heart attack when he heard the gunshot and feared the worst for a moment. before Sherlock called out his name. The grin on Sherlock’s face when Greg finally reached him, the suspect unconscious by his feet, gun a little further away. 

“He was trying to escape.” Sherlock says, a hint of defiance in his voice that makes Greg clench his hands into fists. Sherlock looks at him with his jaw set tight but Greg just crosses his arms. 

“Tell me I’m wrong, Sherlock. Tell me what you did was perfectly logical.” Greg counters, raising his chin and Sherlock shifts in bed, eyes going down for just a second and Greg snorts, uncrossing his arms and stepping closer to the bed. 

“That’s what I thought. You could have been killed. You do know that right?” Greg asks, seeing the eye roll and letting out a soft growl. Sherlock’s eyes snap to his, so wide it’s almost comical and Greg sighs, running his fingers through his hair, suddenly feeling tired all over again. 

 “Now, that still doesn’t explain why you’re here, in my bed.” Greg says after he rubs his forehead, finally taking off his suit jacket and hanging it up. He turns back around, raising an eyebrow and Sherlock shifts, finding a more comfortable position. 

“Like I said, I’m resting.” 

“You can rest at home. In your own bed.” 

“But my bed is cold. This one isn’t.” 

“Sherlock- I swear to god, I don’t have the patience for this.” Greg says, pinching the bridge of his nose, one hand clenching into a fist. He’s tired. He’s soar. He feels old and somewhat useless. Just running those few minutes had made him gasp for breath, knees protesting and muscles aching. Maybe he wasn’t fit enough for the job anymore? Maybe he was getting too old. He certainly felt too old tonight. 

Too old and too fat. 

“Seriously, I just want to go to sleep. I don’t have the patience to deal with whatever this is, Sherlock.” Greg says again, meeting Sherlock’s gaze, a little startled by the expression on his face. Sherlock regards him, eyes going up and down his body and Greg’s stomach muscles contract again. Sherlock moves, the sheet falling off of him again and Greg can’t help but stare at his naked chest, his long neck and shoulders. There are freckles and molds there and Greg swallows, suddenly feeling less tired but more on edge. There’s a little smile starting at Sherlock’s mouth, something in his eyes that makes Greg’s heart skip a couple of beats. 

“You want to have sex with me.”

Just the beginning of the new fic, with help from some not used parts of older fics. @chained-to-the-mirror

[dreamingsushi]

Till the End of the Moon - Episode 39

Second to last episode. Already. It’s been a while since I watched quite consistently one drama so it almost feels like an achievement to have reached that far, so fast. I’m completely in the dark as to what might happened next. Cang Jiumin got all of the artifacts back. Susu came to ask him for the truth. We still don’t know if Ye Qingyu has become or not the king of Jing. I don’t know if I’m the only one still wondering about that? Like, they implied there was someone who knew about Tantai Jin behind that mask and they haven’t used that info yet and I kind of need closure on that. That’s the only think I haven’t seen reused so far and yeah. It needs to be used. Thank you.

He’s upset she came, but he still kills the demon that came to try and kill her. Then he tells her he did this because he hates her and can’t forgive her for what she did to him. She doesn’t want to believe it. But then the demon god take possession of Cang Jiumin and reaches for Susu’s throat, strangling her. More yelling. I was thinking that Luo Yunxi did a pretty good job in this part, like you can see him being torn while completely embracing trying to be the villain. But I don’t know why they ask them to scream all the time they’re fighting. It looks so stupid and kind of breaks any intense moment. Even though the demon god tries to convince Cang Jiumin that no one ever loved him, he manages to break free and release Susu. He tries to kill the demon god, but it doesn’t work, obviously and the demon god uses the demonic weapons to try and force him into becoming the demon god. It kind of backfires because the weapons don’t obey anymore the original demon god and Cang Jiumin uses them to absorb the demon god. Or something like that. It was weird.

He figures out that since only a true god can kill the demon god, it has to be Susu killing him, as she’s the daughter of Chu Huang and suitable to follow the Heartless way to become a god. So he tells the demons to announce to the different sects that he’s going to marry her in three days and they are invited to the wedding if they want to come and congratulate him.

Gongye Jiwu decides to let himself get contaminated by demonic energy, even though he’s going to become a demon because of that because he’s not strong enough to fight Cang Jiumin as he is now. That character makes me really sad. In all of his lives, he ends up being a puppet to others’ plan. He ended up dying miserably because of his stupid father as Xiao Lin. Then he’s manipulated by Dimian. He had kind of everything to succeed, but then... he’s so upright that it’s kind of his downfall. It’s so sad really.

Cang Jiumin prepared a dream like world like the one Mingye left behind for Susu to remember him after everything’s over. She wonders why he would love a simple mortal life, but he doesn’t explain much. In the end, she kisses him and they spend the night together as a farewell I guess. Then he takes her back for the wedding.

Pang Yizhi gave Gongye Jiwu a charm about the demonic punishment the gods tried to use against the first demon god. He plans on using it on the day of the wedding to kill Cang Jiumin. The other sects’ disciple agree to follow him in doing so.

I have to say once more though... The costumes in this drama. I love them. There was only the grass cape Tantai Jin wore for his wedding which was really bad (but still kind of grew on me anyways). Everything else... the head pieces, the capes, the details. The costume designers did a very good job. I mean, there’s so many of them so I’m not sure of the quality up close but on my tiny screen it’s gorgeous.

And as the wedding is about to begin, end of the episode. Only one left and it’s over. I have no idea how things are going to turn out, how it will be resolved. But none of the main characters died yet. So I expect that some of them will tragically perish during next episode, if not all of them.

[stellar-waves]

staring down the sun [30] *

⏯ chapter index

. . .

but i wanted to stay

. . .

Her mother had warned her of evil in the world and hoped Elena would never encounter such atrocities. But after her mother died, Elena had no one left, and a life of espionage became easier. 

Being alone is what she’s good at. Always has been. 

Elena looks down at her hands, rubbing her thumb over the healed scar on her palm from that night her life changed forever. The instant that she killed those two men in her apartment and the instant Connor and Murphy showed up, all made the decision to go rogue that much easier and that much faster. But in that moment when Connor held her hand to sew up her wound, Elena realized she wasn’t alone anymore. 

The small window slides open, casting a glow through the intricate screen and diffusing the man on the other side as Elena crosses herself. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been…” she stalls, frantically searching her memory. “It’s been a very long time since my last confession.”

“It’s alright, my child,” the priest assures softly through the screen, his old voice sounding like an American version of the boys’ Uncle Sibeal. “Go on.”

She rubs her scarred palm again. She can’t confess all of her sins…not yet. Surely God will understand, right? She still needs to protect Connor and Murphy, and everyone else involved.

She inhales slowly. “I lied to someone. Well…I just…I didn’t want to tell him yet.”

“Why is that?”

“I thought I could protect him. If he knew the truth…he wouldn’t be able to do his job.” How she can be so vague about something so big is nauseating. “But now he knows the truth, and I know he’ll never forgive me.”

“Why can’t you give him a chance?” The question seems unfair, but the priest clarifies. “Why can’t you give him a chance to forgive you?”

“Because I don’t deserve it. I pretended to be someone else early on, thinking I wouldn’t stick around, but…everything changed. I should have left a long time ago. I shouldn’t have stayed. I shouldn’t have fallen…” Still, she cannot bring herself to say the words aloud. Yet here she is, finally doing what Bloom told her to do—talk to someone. 

A tear falls down her cheek as she realizes she can finally let go of everything now. She can finally let go of how she feels. “I fell in love with him.” The sudden relief Elena feels in her shoulders and in her soul feels strange and almost frightening. “I knew I shouldn’t have, but it just…happened.”

“Have you told this young man how you feel?”

She swallows the bile of regret in the back of her throat. “No.” But the moments crash into her, like the flickering grain of a movie as she replays them in her mind. Each and every single moment she was connected to Connor, emotionally and physically. They never said the words aloud, but they never needed to. 

The priest’s voice filters through the confessional with a soft hum. “Actions speak louder than words. But words can underscore your actions.” 

She closes her eyes, another tear spilling out.

Don’t do that again.

Don’t. 

Elena cries, the weight of everything breaking around her as she silently begs God to tell her something. 

She wipes her eyes with a deep breath, and the air around her seems to settle. Maybe this is all she can have, a glimmer of peace while her heart climbs out of hell. Another deep breath, and she closes her eyes.

“What do you want, my dear?” the priest asks kindly. And the memory of Elena asking Connor the very same question pushes into focus.

Her cheeks flush as she smiles weakly, seeing the look in Connor’s eyes as he searched for his answer. She feels the guilt smear across her lips, admitting weakly, “I wanted to stay. I just…I can’t.”

“Perhaps not in the physical sense, but your soul is still with him, just as his soul is still with you.”

Her breath hitches in her chest, her green eyes widening with the sudden awareness. “Anam cara…” she exhales.

“Pardon?”

Elena shakes her head, looking at the priest through the decorative screen. “Sorry, it’s uh…it’s Irish for soul friend.”

“Ah, you’re Irish then?”

“My mother was. And so is Conn—” She stops herself, afraid that saying his name is too risky. 

The priest chuckles gently, though, clearly understanding what she means. “He’s Irish, too, this man you love?”

“Aye,” Elena answers with an Irish accent, a more relaxed smile curling up her face. 

“He’s your—how do you say it again?”

“Ann-am kara,” she enunciates each syllable as requested. The priest repeats it happily, and Elena lets her shoulders drop. “He is my anam cara.” 

“Your soulmate.”

She bites her lip. “It’s deeper than that, beyond friendship and romance…it’s an awakening between two souls, a sense of truly knowing someone without pretention.” She had read about that in a book once, how an anam cara transforms your way of being in the world. It sounded so wonderful, but every friendship and relationship she attempted to have came nowhere close to that. So she had long accepted she would never get to experience such a feeling…because she was good at being alone. She was alone for the greater good.

And then Connor looked at her that way. Without explanation, without expectation. 

He stared at her as the question hung in the air between them. What do you want? He couldn’t answer her, not only because they ran out of time, but because he truly did not know. Elena knew that much, because she couldn’t answer the question herself. 

But that night in the motel room when the brothers assured her she wasn’t alone anymore, Elena realized she wanted something she’d been fighting for so long. She didn’t want to be alone anymore.

Elena takes a breath all the way out, and the pain in her heart starts to fade as the insight becomes clearer and sharper. “You look and see and understand differently...” Closing her eyes, she sees Connor again, and that look. “Why didn’t I realize this sooner?” she chokes out, the pain fading back in, ready to gut her entire being. 

“The Lord works in mysterious ways, little bird.” 

Fear rushes under Elena’s skin, threatening to coat her voice as she searches for a way to leave immediately. She hopes she misheard him, that her mind is twisting reality as punishment for letting her guard down. “I-I, uh…” she stutters, adrenaline now flooding her veins. “I should go.”

“Dear, are you alright?” the priest asks with what sounds like genuine concern. 

Sweat beads up along Elena’s forehead, and she shakes her head. “Thank you, but I just…I need to go,” her voice quivers as she stands up quickly, already opening the door.

“But, child!” 

“I’m sorry, Father,” she blurts out, grabbing her bag and rushing out of the confessional. She hears the other door open behind her, yet she refuses to turn around and stop. She walks fast toward the church’s doors, tears pooling under her lashes because she’s alone, again, naturally. And she feels like a God damn fool.

As long as she keeps walking, as long as she finds somewhere to hide, she’ll be okay. And then she can burn everything she has, everything that reminds her of the Saints. 

She slips into an alley to catch her breath when a low voice hums behind her. “I know who you are.”

. . .

. . .

⏮ [29]

[31] ⏭

[ithinkimjustaghost]

The sound of crickets and tree frogs ringing in my ears

Is so nostalgic

The lump in my throat expanding

Until it rips me wide open

And I’m weeping

It keeps on coming back to me

Playing on repeat

The regrets are getting louder and louder

And I don’t know what I am doing anymore

At an impasse again and I don’t know what to do

This line…. this damn song… “A little girl who needs her daddy real bad…”

It rings on repeat when I sleep

I just want to fix this broken perception

I don’t want to be in pain anymore

And I don’t know how to stop it

It gets harder and harder

To get out of bed

To not give up

To not feel like

I ruined every possible chance I’ve ever had

And here I am

37

Working a retail job I can’t stand

Preaching beautiful words that I cannot follow myself

It’s so much easier to see for everyone else

But, I’m blind to myself

I try to take care of you

But I don’t know how to

No, not anymore

And what would you do?

If it wasn’t this life

This body

This time

How would you change it??

Can you fix it?

Will I ever feel whole again?

I’ve written endlessly about it

I feel stuck and broken

This mind

It’s killing me

I just want them all around me

To tell me that they love me

That they do no matter what

I want to shake this child inside of me

Stop this…

Just stop this…

Please…stop

I know you feel afraid

I know you feel so alone

And I keep asking you to trust me

And you resist and resist

Push me away

I feel it all in my chest

Cardiac arrest

My heart

Begging for warmth

Receiving

And rejecting

I feel like Ill break at any minute

Get in my car and just start driving

But I don’t like to be alone

And I don’t want to be here with you

I have no money

Raising you to be proper

Getting you better prepared

For the woman who finds you next

It’s just history

This allegory, big ol’  facade

It’s just the way it goes

I don’t want to be your mommy anymore

I don’t want you to act out like my daddy

I see the moments

Where you revert back

When you cry

And stomp your feet

It isn’t fair is it?

You never asked for any of this

You tell me that you’re happy

The empty bottles say otherwise

5 day binge…

tell me something honey

how do you still have legs to stand over and correct me?

From where I’m standing you’re full of words

And very little action

A little boy

Crying out for some attention

A little boy who never felt love properly

And I a little girl who feels abandoned by everyone and everything

And here we sit

Bonded by assault

Thick as thieves in jail cells

How did we get here?

Will we ever get out?

I wan to have faith in you

I want to believe you

But I know better

I know you lie to me

Because I lie to you

I know you don’t trust me

I don’t trust you

I know like me

You’re waiting for the day to come

When we recognize

We hurt more than we fly

That we are holding one another down and back

And I write this and it hurts because it’s a huge fucking lie

I know you’d bleed for me

I know you would do everything in your power to show me

But that also isn’t fully true

What is this, karma?

What did I agree to

Soul contracts?

It’s all beginning to feel like

A joke

The version of me that is just angry

Angry at my decisions

Angry at my complacency

Angry for my lack of trying

Angry…

Year to year…I feel myself soften

Try to give the benefit of the doubt

And if the epitome of unconditional love is

The knowing that I am supported

Then I know I will be forgiven

I know I will be set free

Not supposed to complain

Not supposed to anger

Not supposed to be improper

Fuck

All

Of

That

It can all be sacred

It can all be holy

God is EVERYWHERE

Everywhere.

Everywhere.

And so is the devil…

So why do you run away little boy?

What is going on inside of your mind?

What slight have I made against you this time?

Maybe one day you’ll realize

I see through it all

Those chinks in your armor grow wider and wider

And you’ve all but rusted and fallen apart

Yet you remain a titan in your mind

The mouse yelling at the elephant

I’m convinced I’m just a ghost

Listlessly wandering through these halls

Haunting you until you lose your mind

Ignore my calls

It’s just the wind howling again

It’s just your eyes playing tricks again

When you see my shadow out of the corners of your eyes

[chernayawidow]

“And please,” she said, holding her son. “Thank Soldier Boy for us.” — Could this be a turning point for how M.M. sees Ben? 👀

“But M.M.’s attention was drawn to the dusty motherfucker standing near the hallway.” — DUSTY MOTHERFUCKER, that made me WHEEZE!!! 🤣🤣

“He was also flanked by his two hired men, Frank Cardoza and Lorenzo Rivales.” — Awww the gangs back together. Reunited and it feels so good!

“She considered that with a tilt of her head. “Let’s just see what happens here.”” — That’s actually very surprising coming from Grace, are the cogs in her brain already turning?

“Annie and Ben eyed each other with mistrust and annoyance, respectively, but then he ignored her to regard the surgeon with a terse, expectant gaze.” — Annie babe, I don’t think there’s anymore reasons for you to still be mistrusting him right now.

““So why’re you wasting time? Do your fucking job,” Ben snapped.” — I feel so bad for Ben, without her, he has literally nothing left 🥺 and even though we know how this is gonna turn out, I’m still so stressed out about her condition right now 😭

“Loco shared a saddened look with Frank, who watched their boss with a deepening frown.” — I hope they get to have a moment with Pookie, they’re legit her adoptive family at this point. Especially Frank, he’s important to me 😞

““Probably not even then,” Butcher teased. But when he took in the younger man’s face, all he saw was his little brother, Lenny. Butcher sighed.” — I seriously love that you’ve brought up Lenny, and how Butcher sees him in Hughie! It’s such a key part of their bond.

“Neither he or Frank had felt good about it when Antonio brought you back to the mansion in Medellin, but they’d agreed to do a job.” — Fucking Tony, such a bloody wanker 🙄 thank god Ben killed that dipshit!

“Loco gave him a look of offense. “It’s like you don’t know me at all, bro. Fucking hurts.”” — The bromance is so adorable 🫶

“Frank faltered, just for a moment. But he cleared his throat and met her eyes.” — Is daddy Frank gonna get himself a lady? 😏 He gonna rizz her up? 😮‍💨

“Ben gave him a cursory side glance. “She wouldn’t take Compound V. Not even to save her fucking life.”” — This right here really proves how far he’s come.

“All right, get it over here,” he said. “The temporary stuff.” — Okay lmao nevermind, I’m eating my words right now… I thought he was gonna respect her wishes but heh nah 😅

““She’ll be alive to hate me,” he said, more honestly.” — I love this line. He doesn’t want her to die, it’s the last thing he wants. But he cares about her so much that he’d rather she hates him and survives, as opposed to loving him in death.

“Yeah, normal blood. A supe’s blood is stronger. Yours could probably heal her,” Frank said. “But, the only one who can break your skin is you.” — Oh shiiiiiit, fucken oath Frank you smarty pants!!! He’s doing more for her then Jon ever did 🤙

“I’m making a donation,” said Ben. He raised a blunt nail to his wrist. “You better hurry the fuck up, because I’m about to open a vein.” — I WHEEZED!! Ben don’t give a FUCK about formalities 🤣 I literally love it, he’d really do anything to save his girl! If this works I’m gonna be so excited!! But will it give any lingering side effects… 👀

“It was morning by the time another doctor returned to deliver an update on your progress: the “treatment” was working. Your wounds had knitted closed within an hour following the blood transfusion, and you no longer needed surgery. They had also x-rayed your leg and found that the bone was whole once again. Even your broken ribs had healed.” — YES YES YES!! She’s gonna be better, AND she can’t be mad at him for it!

“Grace, Annie, and M.M. stared after him with mixed reactions of confusion and curiosity.” — Do they know that he donated his blood to her?

“Just answer the question. Be honest for once in your motherfuckin’ life,” M.M. said. “Do you really think you’re a hero?” — Is this right here him making sure that Ben’s intentions aren’t malicious, that he legit just wants to help people?

“Grace sighed. She’d expected that reaction. “They’ve given him weeks, but the way he’s been pushing himself, more likely it’s days. Taking the untested Temp V long-term has had its adverse side effects…if you were to make another blood donation, I’ll make it worth your while.” — Ohhhh okay so this is how Ben gets to stay in the states and gets a spot on the team! Everything’s really coming together!

“What kind of masterful drugs are they giving me?” — Just your lover boys super blood, no biggie!

“You found yourself slowly smiling, though your brows still furrowed in surprise. He gave me his blood…instead of Compound V.” — This is literally so cute 🥹

“You grasped the pitcher, but the plastic actually crunched in your hand. You gasped and moved your hand over so the water inside wouldn’t spill all over you.” — I knew it! I wonder if it’s just temporary, it probably is aye?

““Seems you got some of his strength in the deal,” Annie remarked.” — Hell yeah bruva 🤙 Super sex!!!

“Going home,” he said. “To my daughter.” — A very satisfying move for Frank 🫶

“Your hand slid down his arm and slipped into his hand. Your fingers curled around his palm.” — Brb, just gonna go and get some tissues for all this fluff so far 😭💖

“He could’ve easily slipped you V24 again, or worse, the permanent stuff. But he didn’t just save you. He’d respected your wishes.” — Uhhh… yeah let’s go with that! 🫣

“You parted from him, pulling back enough to see his face. There was so much you wanted to say…but maybe right now, it was too much.” — HELL YEAH! 😏 This feels like compensation for the cliff hanger!

““It’s a fair offer, Ben,” you pointed out. His lips pursed in annoyance. But he glanced at your hand in his.” — Exactly, at least your not being booted out of the States anymore and can stay close to Pookie 🤣

“Ben had been fucking livid to learn from Frank that you’d been left alone in the Tower with your father while it was coming down (and Ben was petty enough to dock that little slip up from Frank’s pay).” — There it is 😅 honestly though it’s a fair enough reaction, he knows how Pookie felt about Jon so of course he wouldn’t want her left alone with that asshat. But poor Frank, I’m surprised Loco didn’t get his pay docked too!

“Well, he got a quick death,” he said. “Better than he fucking deserved, far as I’m concerned.” — Ben sweetie, you’re missing the mark a bit…

“So you looked up at Ben, and you nodded. He seemed satisfied by your answer. He turned back fully to the road, but you kept a tight hold of his hand. He allowed it.” — This is all melting my heart, it really feels like things are simmering down now (hopefully I’m not wrong lmaoo).

““Our stuff is ready to be shipped out when the deal closes with the owner,” he added.” — Hmmm so I wonder why they end up in the apartment they have in the following one shot… 🤔

“Well, there’s not too much asking going on, you thought in annoyance. And yet, you blushed; the sentiment in itself was enough to warm you.” — I find it so sweet that he naturally assumes they’ll remain living together, it means (even though we already know, Pookie might not yet) that he wants his life with her mwahahahaha!! 😏🫶

“Ben stared back at you in annoyance. “You need to broaden your palate.”” — His rich boy brain is showing 🤣

“But if it’s not to you…if you’re just passing time with me, until you get bored,” you said, “tell me now. Please.” — Her doubt makes my heart ache, and I completely understand it 🥺

“He captured your chin between his fingers and raised your face up to him.” — THE CHIN THING AWH I CAN ALWAYS COUNT ON YOU TO INSERT THAT MOVE IN!!!! 😭💖

“Your smile was soft and bright when you took his hand. Ben wouldn’t admit it, but something in his chest stuttered to life then.” — I’m pretty sure it’s called hope Benjamin, hope for the future because now there’s things to look forward to!

Oh my goodness things are really starting to wrap up and get satisfying endings! I love the way you handled her situation with the blood donation from Ben, that was honestly so creative and such smart thinking! And the way that you used that technique to help with Butcher’s situation? Loved it! And the conversation between M.M. and Ben was very much needed and a long time coming! Also I really really think that the way you had Grace renegotiate with Ben in exchange for helping Butcher was amazing and made so much sense—very in character for her! That sneak peak into next chapter, however, is already shattering my soul and I’m dying to see how that plays out 😭

Love it love it LOVE IT!! 🥹💖

Break Me Down - Part 17

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: *Gives you a box of virtual tissues.* Just in case. 😘

Word Count: 6,000 Tags/Warnings: Macho angst ahead, hurt/comfort, major, major fluff…

Part 17: More Than Words Can Say

Mount Sinai Hospital was one of the largest private hospitals in the city. 

Fortunately, it was also the closest to Vought Tower, or what once had been the focal point of the superhero industry. It had been reduced to mere rubble and whatever dilapidated parts still stood. 

All the news outlets were covering the tower’s collapse, and speculating on what could’ve created the blast that made the entire city tremble—not unlike last year’s incident, when Soldier Boy killed the most powerful supe in the world.

In the hospital, M.M. walked through the Emergency Department until he found Yvette and her son, Devon. They sat beside each other on a single cot, now joined by Yvette’s husband Chris while she signed her discharge papers. She’d gotten off with a minor concussion and a bandage over her temple. 

“Just checking in on you guys,” M.M. said. Yvette smiled, but she asked about you. 

“She’s in surgery,” he told her. 

Yvette nodded, though tears welled up in her eyes. Chris rubbed her back and held his son’s shoulder. 

“Please call me with any news on her,” Yvette asked. 

“You got it,” M.M. said.

“And please,” she said, holding her son. “Thank Soldier Boy for us.”

M.M. paused at that. 

Seeing the family was well in hand, he returned to the trauma wing. There in the waiting room sat the whole team, minus Butcher, who’d been admitted to the hospital as well after the ED doctors didn’t like what they’d found on his lab reports. (But M.M. would look into that later. Hughie was with him now anyway.)

That left Frenchie, Kimiko, and Annie to wait for any news on you. Even Grace had arrived an hour ago. 

But M.M.’s attention was drawn to the dusty motherfucker standing near the hallway. 

Soldier Boy leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. The collar of his supe suit was undone to give his neck and chest some breathing room. He’d removed his gloves, and an empty gallon jug of water lied at his feet. 

He was covered in a fine layer of soot and grime, though he’d since washed his hands and face to the best of his ability. He was also flanked by his two hired men, Frank Cardoza and Lorenzo Rivales. 

Grace had run a quick background check on both, and as M.M. had learned, they were ex-Marines Soldier Boy had picked up in Colombia, while he was busy infiltrating a drug cartel.   

Fucking figures, M.M. thought, shaking his head as he watched the man. Grace stood and joined him.

“He’s not just gonna fuck off back to South America,” he told her. “You realize that right?”

She considered that with a tilt of her head. “Let’s just see what happens here.”

As if right on cue, your surgeon made his way down the hall and over to the waiting group. Ben pushed off the wall and went to meet him, as did Grace, Annie, and M.M. 

Annie and Ben eyed each other with mistrust and annoyance, respectively, but then he ignored her to regard the surgeon with a terse, expectant gaze.  

The doctor was a graying man in his fifties. He seemed to internally brace himself before he spoke, glancing at Ben first before the others. 

“We’ve repaired the damaged muscle around her right leg. The femur is broken. We also addressed the wound near her shoulder,” he said. “However, the rebar did nick her heart. She’ll need additional surgery to repair it.”

Ben sensed a but coming. He crossed his arms. “Okay, what’s the problem?”

The doctor gave a nod and a short sigh. 

“She’s lost a lot of blood,” he explained. “We’ve given her a transfusion, of course, but she’s in a delicate state right now.”

“So why’re you wasting time? Do your fucking job,” Ben snapped. Grace shot him a glance, but addressed the doctor herself.

“What are her odds, doctor?” she asked. Ben eyed her with a glare. She ignored him for the time being. 

“She needs this now. But, there is a chance she won’t make it out of surgery at this stage,” the surgeon replied. “The OR will be available in thirty minutes…so this would be the time to be with her, just in case she’s unable to get through this.”

“Excuse me?” Ben said. 

His tone was dark and deep with grit, and the doctor stepped back. No one dared attempt to hold Ben back, but Grace quickly thanked the doctor and urged him to move forward with prepping you for surgery. 

Loco shared a saddened look with Frank, who watched their boss with a deepening frown. 

Annie turned to Ben with a measure of sympathy, hidden underneath her irritation at his attitude and her worry for you. You were still her friend, and she felt guilty for how cold she’d been treating you lately. And she could see, at the very least, that this man cared about you. 

“Look, can you just calm down a bit? We’re all here hoping she pulls through,” Annie said. 

M.M. stood behind her, silent, supportive. But Ben just ignored her, and everyone else for that matter. 

He stalked down the hallway. And when he turned a corner, out of eyeshot, he growled and punched a hole deep into the closest wall.

Hughie perked up when Butcher finally started to rouse in his hospital bed. They had him on a hefty dose of morphine. 

He blinked his weary eyes, his head rolling over on the pillow. His lips quirked when he noticed Hughie, who was glaring at him. 

“Watching me sleep now?” Butcher remarked. “Pretty fuckin’ creepy, Hugh.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Hughie said. 

That was something Butcher couldn’t refute. He nodded. “I see they told you.”

“When were you gonna say something?” Hughie said. “When you fucking dropped dead?”

“Probably not even then,” Butcher teased. But when he took in the younger man’s face, all he saw was his little brother, Lenny. Butcher sighed. 

“Ain’t nothing any of us can do about it.”

“Fucking cancer?” Hughie said incredulously. “You could’ve gotten treatment.”

“Would’ve bought me a few more months, maybe,” Butcher admitted. That fell between them for a moment with stony silence. 

“It’s all right,” he added. “I’ve had my fucking time. Got to see the life drain from that golden cunt’s eyes…got to let my girl rest easy.”

Hughie didn’t buy that. Or maybe, he just didn’t want to. His eyes burned, both with emotion and determination. He stood from his seat and set out to find Grace. If there was anything that could help Butcher, she would know. 

While the others went down to the cafeteria for a bite to eat, Frank sat in the waiting room with Loco beside him and Dr. Baker’s briefcase on his lap.

He was sorting through its contents while Loco sat with crossed arms and slumping shoulders. He looked over at Frank’s stoic profile with a frown.

He was older, but not by much. They’d gone through one fresh hell after another together, and somehow, Frank always managed to pull their asses out of the wringer. It seemed Frank was trying to do the same for their boss. 

It was funny, actually. Soldier Boy wasn’t their first contractor. You were their first kidnapping though. Neither he or Frank had felt good about it when Antonio brought you back to the mansion in Medellin, but they’d agreed to do a job. Guarding you became part of that job. 

And yet, you had somehow reminded both Frank and Loco that they used to be respectable members of society. They used to have families, friends. They had once been soldiers. Good men. Maybe that was why they’d grown fond of you over the past few months. 

And Frank…well, Loco knew the man had his reasons for wanting to be done with this work. Loco couldn’t blame him; he was feeling tired himself. 

“Found anything good?” Loco asked in Spanish. Frank’s dark brows had drawn together in new interest.

“More than good,” he said. He looked up, but didn’t find Soldier Boy in the waiting room. “Where the hell did he go?”

Loco pointed to the reception desk. “Try asking someone.”

With a sharp sigh, Frank gave Loco the briefcase. “Guard that with your fucking life. Don’t let anyone from the CIA take it from you.”

Loco gave him a look of offense. “It’s like you don’t know me at all, bro. Fucking hurts.” 

Rolling his eyes, Frank got up and went over to the reception desk. 

“Excuse me,” he said. There seemed to be no one at the reception desk. Granted, it was late at night, and they technically weren’t supposed to be there. Grace Mallory had worked out an agreement with the hospital to allow them all to stay overnight. 

He didn’t have to wait too long though, as an on-duty nurse came over with a clipboard in hand. Her red hair caught his eye, along with her pretty smile. 

“Hi there. Can I help you?” she asked. 

Frank faltered, just for a moment. But he cleared his throat and met her eyes. 

“Did you happen to see which way Soldier Boy went?” he asked.

She gave him a wan smile and pointed down the hall, to the left. “That ‘a way. Think he had an argument with the wall over there.”

Frank followed her gaze and caught sight of the hole in the wall. He frowned. 

“Sorry about that,” he said. 

The nurse gave him a sideways look. “No worries, hun. It’s not your fisticuff outline in the wall, now is it?”

Once again, Frank didn’t know quite what to say to her slightly teasing smile. But he returned it, more reserved, but genuine. 

“Thank you,” he said, with a nod. Then he remembered then what he needed to do. 

And he took off brusquely down the hall. 

It took him a few minutes to pull his head together, but Ben eventually worked up his nerve to go and see you. 

You were still drugged out asleep, of course. He stood outside the large window of your private room in the Intensive Care Unit. He wouldn’t go in though. Part of him refused to believe it had gotten to this. 

And the reality, that this was his fault. He’d caused the blast that destroyed the tower. His fault he hadn’t gotten to you sooner.

“You are the reason I needed saving,” you’d told him once. 

You were right then, and it still held up now. 

So, no…he wouldn’t go in there, into your room. The truth was, he couldn’t. 

But Ben’s awareness prickled before he noticed, Frank had joined him. Ben tolerated it. While he wanted to be alone, maybe part of him (one he wouldn’t acknowledge) craved some kind of company. 

“You’ll get paid, don’t you fucking worry,” he said dryly. 

“That’s not the only reason I’m here,” Frank said. 

It felt like a confession. Ben didn’t reply though; he was focused on your pale face, covered by the breathing mask. Shallow puffs of air fogged the inside of it while your heart monitor clipped on.

“There’s another solution here,” Frank said. 

Ben gave him a cursory side glance. “She wouldn’t take Compound V. Not even to save her fucking life.”

“That didn’t stop you before,” Frank mentioned. 

Ben didn’t answer, but he’d been internally debating it ever since he’d spoken with the surgeon. 

“All right, get it over here,” he said. “The temporary stuff.” 

Frank rose a brow. He’d been curious enough to try testing the man. But now, he frowned.

“She won’t forgive you,” he pointed out. 

“What’re you, devil’s fucking advocate? She’ll get the fuck over it,” Ben snapped. 

But after his initial anger subsided…he knew his subordinate was right. 

“She’ll be alive to hate me,” he said, more honestly.  

Frank inclined his head. “There could be another way.” 

Ben glanced over at him. 

“She lost a lot of blood,” Frank said. Ben frowned.  

“They’ve given her fucking blood transfusions—” 

“Yeah, normal blood. A supe’s blood is stronger. Yours could probably heal her,” Frank said. “But, the only one who can break your skin is you.”

Ben eyed him in suspicion. “Who told you that?” 

“Read it somewhere,” Frank said evasively. 

Ben huffed in response, but as that realization truly sunk into his mind, his lips pressed together in new determination. He left Frank to start a brusque pace down the hall. 

He ignored the red-headed nurse calling at him at the reception desk when he shoved through a locked security door, into the OR unit. He searched until he found your surgeon and pulled him from the sink he was washing his hands in.

The man gasped with fright, though he tried to hide it looking up at Ben. “What the hell’re you doing?”

“I’m making a donation,” said Ben. He raised a blunt nail to his wrist. “You better hurry the fuck up, because I’m about to open a vein.”

It was morning by the time another doctor returned to deliver an update on your progress: the “treatment” was working. Your wounds had knitted closed within an hour following the blood transfusion, and you no longer needed surgery. They had also x-rayed your leg and found that the bone was whole once again. Even your broken ribs had healed.

Ben nodded at the news. He didn’t respond, and just started walking down the hall. Grace, Annie, and M.M. stared after him with mixed reactions of confusion and curiosity. 

“Where are you going?” Annie asked. She was exhausted; all of them were. 

The supe ignored her though. M.M. shared a look with her before he decided to follow the man. 

Meanwhile, Ben once again stopped in the middle of the hallway when he was out of view. He took in a slow, steadying breath of relief, his fists clenching at his sides.

“Congratulations. After today, you’re gonna get your statue put back up,” M.M. said.

Ben turned around to stare back at the man, schooling his face into a stoic frown. 

“Yvette and her son are going to be fine, by the way,” M.M. added, as he crossed his arms.

Ben paused slightly at that, filing that information away with secret satisfaction. 

To M.M., he merely raised a brow. “You got something to say, or are you going to keep wasting my fucking time?”  

“You think saving one black kid makes you a hero?” M.M. asked, point blank. “Taking down Vought. Saving her. What does that all mean to you?”

Ben frowned in irritation. “Why the fuck do you care?”

“Just answer the question. Be honest for once in your motherfuckin’ life,” M.M. said. “Do you really think you’re a hero?”

Silence fell between them. 

Ben didn’t know what it was about this guy. Maybe it was his persistence, or the fact that he’d pulled you out of the rubble and got you to a hospital in time to save your life. 

But Ben actually considered the question.

Killing Stan Edgar and Black Noir. Saving you. He’d done it all for selfish reasons. The kid…that was something else. His face stuck in Ben’s mind, how he’d trusted the superhero, like dumb kids were supposed to do.

But in that moment, carrying the tower on his back and knowing he was the only barrier between a mountain of hot rubble and this one kid…Ben hadn’t wanted to fail. 

And still. You are the reason I needed saving…

It wasn’t really saving the fucking day if he started it, was it?

Ben’s lips turned on a humorless smile. Still, he had saved the kid. And his mom. And you. For now, that was enough.

“Looks like I am,” said Ben.

But he met M.M.’s stare, briefly allowing him to glimpse beyond a wall of arrogance and pride.

And Ben walked away. M.M. watched him go in silent contemplation.

Grace intercepted Ben before he could visit you in the ICU. 

Christ. What the fuck now? he thought sourly. 

She gestured for a word, and with an annoyed look, he followed her down the hall.

“I’ll get to the point,” she said. “Butcher is sharing a floor with your girlfriend, down in Oncology.”

Ben raised a brow. That prick had cancer? Par for the fucking course, if he said so himself. 

“So?” he remarked. 

Grace sighed. She’d expected that reaction. “They’ve given him weeks, but the way he’s been pushing himself, more likely it’s days. Taking the untested Temp V long-term has had its adverse side effects…if you were to make another blood donation, I’ll make it worth your while.” 

So now his blood was some fucking wonder drug? Hell no, Ben thought. 

“You’re asking me to save the guy who’s double-crossed me, tried to hunt me down, tried to end me?” he said, with a dark, incredulous chuckle. “You can fuck right off, sweetheart.”

She grated at the sweetheart remark, but Grace leveled him with steely blue eyes.

“If it weren’t for me, you’d be on ice right now,” she pointed out. 

Ben’s lips pursed. He’d really like to snap this bitch’s fucking neck on principle…but then he thought about it. He could work this into his favor. 

“You know what. I’m having a good day, so maybe I’m feeling fucking generous,” he said. His mouth edged into a smirk. “But I think it’s time we renegotiated our contract. Don’t you?”

Grace stared up at him, and she inhaled a deep breath. 

“Fine.”

You slowly woke up in a hospital room, in a paper gown with an IV drip and a heart monitor. Which made sense, as the events of yesterday came back to you in a rush. 

But beyond feeling relieved to be alive, you also felt extremely well-rested. You didn’t feel like a building fell on you. 

What kind of masterful drugs are they giving me? You tried to read your chart on the wall, but you didn’t see any pain medication on there. 

Annie popped into your private recovery room. Her face brightened when she saw that you were awake. 

“Hey, hun! How do you feel?” she asked, lowering into a chair at your bedside. You wouldn’t know that this chair had been occupied by various members of the team over the past few hours, including M.M., Frenchie, Frank, and even Grace. 

“Great, actually,” you replied. But now you frowned. “I shouldn’t feel great.”

You remembered nearly being crushed under a pile of rubble. You remembered falling on a piece of rebar, and unable to move your crushed leg. You remembered the worry in Ben’s eyes… 

And panic stung at yours.

“Did they give me Compound V?” your voice shook when you asked. Annie calmed you down with a shake of her head and a reassuring hand on your arm. 

The door to your room opened once again. Ben’s frame filled up the doorway. When his eyes met yours, your breath caught in your throat. He was still in his supe suit, and with his hands resting on his belt, he strutted inside the room. 

M.M., Frenchie, Frank, Loco, and Kimiko came in behind him and at least looked showered. Ben looked like he hadn’t even done that much, nor slept all night.

“It wasn’t the V,” he said at last. “Just a little blood donation. Seemed to work like a charm.”

His resulting grin had a bit of charm in it as well. Your head tilted in confusion.

"Whose blood?" you asked.

"Mine," he said. His expression faded, slightly more serious.

You found yourself slowly smiling, though your brows still furrowed in surprise. He gave me his blood…instead of Compound V.

While you tried to wrap your mind around the gravity of that, you reached for the pitcher of water on the rolling tray beside you. You grasped the pitcher, but the plastic actually crunched in your hand. You gasped and moved your hand over so the water inside wouldn’t spill all over you.

Ben raised a brow. 

The room fell silent as all eyes stared at you. When the water finished pouring out onto the floor, you gently set it back down on the tray. 

“Seems you got some of his strength in the deal,” Annie remarked. 

“Great, there’s two of them,” Hughie quipped with a grin. 

“Well, that’s probably just temporary,” M.M. sighed. “Hopefully.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, and it brought a slight grin to Ben’s lips. 

After a bit of well wishing, everyone cleared out of your room to let you rest up…except for Ben, Frank, and Loco. 

“What are you guys going to do now?” you asked of the latter two. Loco cracked his knuckles. 

“Got another job lined up in private security,” he revealed. “I’ve lost the taste for drug running. Nearly lost a damn toe on the last one.”

You laughed. “Well, thanks for doing one more job here.”

“Anything for el Capitán,” Loco said, giving Ben a respectful nod. “He pays exceedingly well.”

You raised a brow at Ben, who shrugged with a cocky grin. Smiling, you turned to Frank, who was sitting in the chair beside your bed. 

“And you?” you asked. Frank gave you a rare smile. 

“Going home,” he said. “To my daughter.”

Your eyes began to sting, but you tried to blink away the beginnings of tears. You nodded and squeezed his arm. 

“Give her a big hug for me. And thank you again…for everything,” you said, even though you realized that thanking your former guard keep was strange. Still, there had been no part of your kidnapping that was normal in the least. 

Frank hesitated, but he covered your hand with his. 

Though he caught the way Ben’s face tightened, and Frank let go of you. He stood with Loco, giving you and Ben a final nod. Then the two men left your room and disappeared down the hall.

Part of you felt melancholy, like chapters of your life were closing. But you also felt like new ones were waiting in the wings.

Your gaze turned to Ben, who stood near your bed.

He was looking over your chart to see if the doctors needed anything else before you were discharged. But your soft voice called to him, earning his attention. You beckoned him closer.

He went over and sat down on the edge of your bed, laying a hand on your thigh. You reached out for his arm. 

“Thank you,” you said. 

Ben scoffed, though a hint of humor glinted in his eyes. “For what? Saving your reckless ass for the millionth time?”

“For saving Yvette and her son,” you replied with a smile. “And yeah, all that other stuff.” 

Your hand slid down his arm and slipped into his hand. Your fingers curled around his palm. 

“Really. Thank you…” 

Tears welled up in your eyes again. You still couldn’t fucking believe he opened up one of his own veins and gave you his blood. He gave a public hospital his blood in order to save you. 

He could’ve easily slipped you V24 again, or worse, the permanent stuff. But he didn’t just save you. He’d respected your wishes. 

What you wanted to say next got stuck in your throat.

Ben had something hiding behind his eyes, like he was reluctant to show you his real emotions. But when he focused on your face, his hand tightened on yours. His jaw clenched, but he didn’t speak. He only let go of your hand to brush a falling tear from your cheek. His lips twitched at a smile.

“Come on now, baby doll. You’re tougher than that.”

You choked on a laugh as more of your tears slipped down your warming cheeks. “Nope. I’m actually not.”

“Hmm. Could’ve fooled me,” Ben said. You matched his grin with a beaming smile of your own.  

Slowly, you pushed yourself up and took his dirty face in your hands. You guided him down to you, and you pressed your lips to his. 

He allowed it with his usual demanding, fervent kiss. But then it slowed. He held your wrist to keep your hand in place on his cheek, and his thumb drew bath and forth over your skin. 

You parted from him, pulling back enough to see his face. There was so much you wanted to say…but maybe right now, it was too much. 

You met him with another tearful kiss.

Before you were officially discharged from the hospital, you had one more visitor. 

Grace was once again there to debrief you. This time though, Ben sat at your side on the bed, a silent statue who regarded the woman coolly. He seemed to be tolerating her presence with more ease than usual, and you wondered why.

“You’re going on medical leave,” she informed you. “For three months, and then a psychiatrist will need to clear you for duty.”

Part of you wanted to argue, considering you were completely healed of your injuries. But you knew you needed a break from the S.A.—from all of this. 

“Your mother and sister will be brought out of witness protection soon, after we determine that the threat is sufficiently neutralized,” she said. “You can return home today as well.”

You could finally go back to your apartment…though the thought didn’t call to you as much as it should have. You glanced over at Ben.

“Is this the part where you try to ship him back to Colombia?” you asked. 

“That was the agreement,” Grace said wryly. You frowned, trying to blink away the tears forming once again in your eyes.

You didn’t want to lose him, but you also didn’t want to give up your life here. You didn’t want to leave the S.A., or your family, or your friends. Ben put you out of your misery, however.

“We renegotiated,” he said. 

Your eyes widened. “What?”

Grace explained, “In exchange for his assistance in another case, he can stay in the U.S. on a trial basis. As long as he agrees to live within the law.”

You didn’t entirely trust Grace. Ben would be watched at every moment. That was a given, but considering he still didn’t have full control over his nuclear power, you were surprised Grace would allow him free roam within U.S. borders. 

“And, provided, he agrees to a relocation. Preferably not in a densely populated area,” Grace added.

There it is, you frowned. You shared a look with him, and you could see he wasn’t entirely on board with this. You had no doubt he’d agreed to her demands by lying through his teeth. 

You turned back to Grace.

“What if he becomes a contractor for Supe Affairs,” you proposed. “There may be some fallout after Vought’s collapse, and more of their records to go through. Other labs to clear out. Ben would be a lot of help, if he’s willing.”

You glanced at Ben again. He met your eyes, then Grace’s, and he nodded marginally. He was getting bored of the heat in South America anyway. 

Grace heaved a sigh. Ben’s lips formed a smirk. 

“Oh, relax. I just ended Vought. You’d be an idiot not to cash in on that PR,” he pointed out. 

“Need I remind you that you caused the tower’s collapse?” Grace said tersely. “And you did not end Vought. There will be repercussions to this, believe me.”

Ben’s face tightened, but you grasped his hand. 

“But he fulfilled the mission,” you said. “He took out Black Noir…and Stan Edgar in the process.”

“The idea was to arrest him, but I get your point,” Grace said. Her hand raised to cover her mouth as she thought about your proposal.

Eventually, she spoke. “If you can play by our rules, then we’ll contract with you. But until you get that atomic bomb under control, you can’t remain the city. Upstate is the best I can do.”

Ben chafed at being told what he couldn’t do. What the fuck was he going to do in Upstate New York? Slowly rot to death in dusty-ass suburbia?

You shot him a knowing look, raising a brow. 

“It’s a fair offer, Ben,” you pointed out. His lips pursed in annoyance. But he glanced at your hand in his.

Then he looked up at Grace. “Fine. But first, unfreeze my fucking bank accounts.”

Ben later led you out of the hospital. There was a car waiting outside, and he got in to drive, despite you offering. He must’ve been going on very little sleep, if any over the past two days. 

And of course, he’d refused to be seen at all medically, saying he was fine. You were still concerned about that destabilizing gun Black Noir had shot him with. 

“I’m fine,” Ben had claimed. “Just need some sleep, that’s all.”

You watched his profile for a moment, and a smile started to raise your lips…until you finally remembered something that felt like a heavy stone in your stomach.

“Um…” you said, earning Ben’s attention. You looked up at him. “My father’s dead…”

Good fucking riddance, was Ben’s initial reaction. Followed by a frown, as he now realized he would never get the pleasure of choking the shit out of Jon himself. 

Ben had been fucking livid to learn from Frank that you’d been left alone in the Tower with your father while it was coming down (and Ben was petty enough to dock that little slip up from Frank’s pay). Had that asshole lived, Ben wouldn’t have put it past him to try and take you with him after escaping the building. The mere thought grated on him. 

“Black Noir killed him,” you said, heaving a shaky breath. 

That cut through Ben’s thoughts. He glanced over, watching you fight some conflicting emotions. 

“…Punched a hole straight through his chest,” you added.

Ben hummed in acknowledgement. You turned to him with a raised brow and glassy eyes. When he realized you were expecting a bit more from him, his lips pursed.

“Well, he got a quick death,” he said. “Better than he fucking deserved, far as I’m concerned.”

You sighed and leaned your head back on the head rest. Your eyes closed. 

“Goddamn it, Ben.”

Ben eyed you with a deepening frown. “What the fuck do you expect me to say?”

“How about some decency?” you asked, as a tear fell down your cheek. “He tried to apologize. But I wouldn’t let him.”

He paused at that. While he thought you were being unreasonable, it begrudgingly dawned on him what you wanted, and maybe, what you needed. He sighed through his nose. Even now, you were a handful.

Ben reached over, taking your hand from your lap. He pressed the back of it to his lips, earning your mild surprise.  

“That’s not your fault,” he said. And he briefly took his eyes off the road to look into yours. “None of it was. You understand me?”

Your face softened. Though you tried to blink away your tears, a few of them still fell. You wiped at them with your free hand, while the other squeezed around his fingers, resting against your thigh. Despite how you were fracturing inside, warmth still kept you afloat. 

So you looked up at Ben, and you nodded. He seemed satisfied by your answer. He turned back fully to the road, but you kept a tight hold of his hand. He allowed it.   

“We’ll have to go to the safe house to get our stuff,” you said eventually, with a small sniffle.

“No need,” Ben said. “That’s taken care of.”

That confused you. Was he taking you to your apartment then? 

But instead, he drove you out of the city, and an hour upstate into Scarsdale. You’d never been there, but you knew it by reputation—as one of the most affluent towns in the state.

You were even more confused when he drove down a street flanked by tall hedges within a private community. He pulled into a circular driveway in front of an immense white house, with a red brick roof, colonial architecture, a manicured lawn, complete with matching fountains lining the front door.

Ben parked the car and encouraged you to get out with him. You followed him up to the front porch, expecting an old billionaire to pop out of the tall bushes at any moment to chase you away. 

“What’re we doing here?” you asked. His hands fell to the belt of his supe suit as he surveyed the stood, the door, and the walls for anything amiss. 

“I’m looking into buying it,” he revealed, as if he’d just told you, It’s pretty fucking sunny today, huh? 

“Our stuff is ready to be shipped out when the deal closes with the owner,” he added.

Your eyes flew wide. “What? When did you have time to scope out houses?” 

You’d only been discharged about an hour after the conversation with Grace. 

“I had Frank look into some shit. He found this one,” Ben shrugged. “Could use some work, but not bad.”

Our stuff, you repeated in your mind. This house…was he trying to recreate what the two of you had in Medellin?

And more importantly, was this his way of asking you to move in with him? 

Well, there’s not too much asking going on, you thought in annoyance. And yet, you blushed; the sentiment in itself was enough to warm you. 

You brought Ben back down to Earth by grasping his hands, earning his attention from the old grout in the tile.

“Ben, this place is amazing,” you said. “But I don’t know if I’ll be comfortable living like this.”

He frowned down at you. “What the hell do you mean? You could have anything you want here. It’s safe. Got plenty of room—”

“A bit too much room,” you said, holding up your thumb and forefinger a couple inches apart. 

He looked adorably grumpy. You smiled and squeezed his hand. 

“Did you really feel cozy and at home in that mansion with fifty rooms and nobody in ‘em?” you asked.

He didn’t answer you, and he didn’t seem happy either. You didn’t want him to take this as a rejection. 

“If we’re going to do this,” you said, “then can we start a little smaller? Somewhere that feels like home to both of us?”

Ben stared back at you in annoyance. “You need to broaden your palate.”

You just managed to stop yourself from laughing.

“You haven’t had a normal home in a long time, Ben,” you replied. Maybe ever, you realized. “How about you trust me?” 

He gave you a dubious frown.

“What about this,” you tried. “Let’s pick it out together! If in a few months you still hate the new place, we’ll try it your way.” 

“You’re assuming we’re gonna make it that long.” Ben was starting to wonder if this was going to work after all. The two of you were from very different worlds. 

You offered a cheeky smile. “I’m optimistic.”

He huffed. “Sure.” 

You reached up on your toes, and gripped the front of his suit when you leaned up to kiss him. His hands rose naturally to hold you, resting on your jean-clad hips. He followed your languid kiss, his furrowed brows relaxing when you touched his cheek.

When you broke from his lips, his eyes opened to find yours. 

“I am, Ben,” you said more seriously. “I’m not playing games. This is real to me, and I want to be with you.” 

But then you hesitated. You lowered back down to your feet. 

“But if it’s not to you…if you’re just passing time with me, until you get bored,” you said, “tell me now. Please.” 

It was Ben’s turn to hesitate. It was the please that got to him, along with your downturned gaze. He captured your chin between his fingers and raised your face up to him. 

“I’m not fucking around,” he said. “I want you to live with me.” 

Your smile was soft and bright when you took his hand. Ben wouldn’t admit it, but something in his chest stuttered to life then.

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “Let’s do it.”

AN: *squeals* It's happening! We've really gotten here, folks. How'd you like how it all wrapped up with Grace, M.M., and even Butcher?

But we're not quite there with these two yet...

Next Time:

“Why’re you nagging me like a goddamn wife?” he snapped.

“Wife?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “You don’t even call me your girlfriend.”

But God forbid another man even smile in your direction. Ben was possessive, protective, and claimed with all but words that you were his. And yet, he wouldn’t say it.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was afraid of commitment, but you’d been living together for six damn months.

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