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messylustt · 1 year ago

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𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭

miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 4.8k words

fic masterlist previous part pt four next part

violence + mentions of blood and injuries (this is quite visual ha); angry + kinda ‘blood lust’ miguel; someone gets electrocuted, reader kinda does (small amount—I’ll be honest I don’t know how getting electrocuted exactly works, so for the purpose of the story ignore if the way it happens isn’t realistic, thank you!) — when you’re left alone in the tech room, many spiders out on missions, something unexpected happens. when miguel finds out his face falls and his claws twitch in anger. after the incident, you find miguel walking down the hall, calling to him he asks you questions, and you offer your help with something.

It was silent. For what felt like too long. Besides the tap of your fingers on the keyboard—which had begun to slow.

Usually you’d hear distant conversations or the sound of web shooting, but instead only silence greeted you. Unease began to make your body turn, your chair spinning with you.

You weren’t sure if you were just being paranoid. You were alone in the office. Which wasn’t anything strange, but it meant that your growing paranoia festered a little stronger.

You edged closer to the door, finally hearing what sounds to be rumbling. Low and too vague for you to decipher. Your hand reaches out to the door handle, but just as your fingers brush the smooth metal, you’re forced back.

Your body flies, coming to a bruising hit on your hip, making you hiss in pain. But you’re quick to get up, rushing to a clear wall, and away from the explosion. You breathe heavy as you slump against it, your ears slightly ringing, while your gaze stays blurry against the random scraps of metal and dust.

You look to the communal intercom, quickly rushing towards it. Someone or something that isn’t supposed to be here is. You have to warn the spider-people who are out on missions.

But where are the others?

Just as you reach the com, the sound of quick scuffling boots can be heard to your left. You snatch up the intercom, slipping under your desk, tucking your feet into the dark just as multiple pairs of unwelcome boots come into view.

Your shrink further into yourself. You couldn’t speak in warning to the spider variants or these guys would hear you. Your eyes narrow on the bottom of their legs. All black, but so far appearing humanised rather then some large monster. An anomaly?—you think to yourself—multiple?

You clutch the intercom mic tighter, your finger grazing the on button. And that’s when they begin to speak.

“Get the tech.” A gruff voice says. “Now! We can’t waste our time!”

You can hear more scuffling of boots as the sound of unplugging, or more so ripping follows.

“Boss, they’ll be back.” One of them said. You try to get a good look at them, but your movements will cause too much attention, so you grind your teeth and listen harder.

“If you pick up that damn monitor we might have a chance to get out quick enough.” What you assume to be the gruff voice of ‘boss’ says.

“Who even made you in charge?” One grumbles out.

“Who’s idea was it to lure those stupid spiders out on some fake mission, that, might I add, required a decent bunch of those freaks?”

“Not all of them, though.” One adds. You try again to peak out. You manage to scale the bodies of three, all in black, with…masks. Damn it. They looked worn out—handmade.

“Well, lucky for us the remainders are all too busy in the lobby. Now hurry up and pack the bags.” Boss agitatedly says.

And as if luck is still on your back-burner, your foot slips, only a fraction, but enough to knock a piece of stray metal across the floor.

“What was that?” One of the masked men asks.

The silence now following sounds threatening. You place your hand over your mouth, to quieten your breathing, as the scuffs of boots draws closer.

;;

“Ben!” Exclaimed Miguel, just as static breaks through his ear. He hisses, not expecting it, as he holds the earpiece, brows furrowed. Then the static grows clearer.

“Get the tech. Now! We can’t waste our time!”

“Boss, they’ll be back.”

Miguel narrows his eyes as he listens, confused at first. When he looks to the other spider-people they’re are all holding their own earpieces, trying to comprehend what they’re listening to.

“Who even made you in charge?”

“Who’s idea was it to lure those stupid spiders out on some fake mission, that, might I add, required a decent bunch of those freaks?”

“Lyla, what is this?” Miguel asks. She appears by him, tapping away at screens.

“It appears to be coming from a communal intercom.” She says.

“At HQ?” He asks, already flexing his claws. “Which one.”

“I’m just finding out. The connection is muffled.” More tapping.

“Well, lucky for us the remainders are all too busy in the lobby. Now hurry up and pack the bags.”

The voices still infiltrate Miguel’s ear. “Lyla.” He sounds impatient. “Which one?”

Then she stops tapping. “Y/n y/l/n’s.”

Miguel freezes, looking at Lyla as if she would be one to crack a joke. Then he hears the knock of something metal through his ear piece, followed by a ‘“What was that?”’. He can now hear your heavy breathes, slightly muffled, as heavy boots hit the floor.

Then all sound is gone.

He doesn’t wait for anyone, pressing his wristband to open the portal to HQ. But Jess stops him. “Miguel, think about this. What if it’s them?”

Miguel glances at her, shrugging her grip off his arm, as he taps at his wristband again, the portal opening up. His expression is downcast, one could easily say terrifying.

“Miguel! You have to think this through.” Jess persists. “We have spider-men and woman back at HQ—”

“Who are clearly too distracted to do anything.” Miguel grunts out, webbing towards the portal. But Ben intercepts this time.

“She’s right, Miguel. Don’t worry about the tech, we can get it back, or even get new ones—“

“The tech?” Miguel actually sounds in disbelief. “You think I’m fucking worried about the tech?!” His red eyes gleam, and Ben gulps.

“Then what are you worried about, Miguel?” Jess asks, exasperated. “Because I don’t see anything else that needs urgent attention. The tech is the main—“

“¿Tú no? The tech is the last of my worries, Jess.” Miguel interrupts. But this time he isn’t yelling. This time it’s toned down, and somehow that makes him appear much, much scarier.

“Miguel.” Jess tries to calm him down, not understanding what he could find more worrying. Data had been saved on that tech, important data. She places one hand on his wrist, but he immediately shrugs her off, glaring.

“Get out of my way.” He snarls. She doesn’t move, crossing her arms. “The reason why you aren’t hurt against that wall is because you earned my respect. That’s slipping, Jess.”

“Miguel you’re frantic.” She says.

“Call it what you want. I’m getting to HQ.” He webs past her, and Jess finally has the mind to let him go. Though she still stands there worried, and confused about what could have made Miguel so urgent to get to the scene.

;;

You tighten your hold on the intercom, now switching to use it as a possible weapon, as the boots near. You prepare yourself by silent deep breaths and a focused gaze.

The boots stop in front of you, pausing for only a moment. Then the desk is being flung to the side. You choke a gasp, managing to slam the intercom down into the guys shin, the harsh metal side bruising and buckling his leg.

He exclaims in pain as you scramble to your feet. You can finally see the detail on the three mens’ outfits. A dark green weaved into the fabric. Then you see the claws for hands, and all three of their masks turned to you. Shit.

“Who are you guys?” You manage to get out, as you reach behind you for a keyboard.

One looks at the other before looking back at you. “Were you here the whole time?”

You say nothing, edging closer to the exit. It’s silent from them for a moment then “…kill her.” The gruff voice of ‘boss’ says. And they’re quick.

You try to rush away but one yanks you back by your hair. You angrily swing around and knock the metal keyboard across one of their heads. Some of the pieces shatter against his mask.

But then one is grabbing your neck, pushing you against the wall. “Sorry—boss says no tattle tales.” The guy tightens his hold, and your hands scramble against his in an effort to intake air.

There’s a moment where your vision blurs. But there’s also a moment where his knee shifts letting your leg harshly kick out. You’re glad to find him humanised in his pants as he doubles over.

You rush away from the wall, heaving. One of the masked men is already trying to grab you and as his clawed hand wraps around your arm, he’s pulled back, a shining orange web yanking him straight into a monitor, his head smashing against glass.

The speed makes his claws cut across your flesh but your adrenaline is far too prominent for you to care. You notice the other guy stalking towards you, making you swiftly gaze around at your environment, Weapon. Weapon. Weapon. You stop on a machine, wires poking out, sparking with electricity. Holding a certain point you pull two out, ripping the electric wires, before stabbing them into his stomach, the electric current making his body shake and twitch.

You soon have to let go as they grow unbearably hot, leaving scolding burns on your fingertips and palms. That’s when you notice the owner of the orange web. Miguel has ruined the guy he originally threw into a monitor, his body now a bloody pulp.

You have to quickly look away to the second guy who had obviously gotten up from your kick and landed straight into Miguel’s palm. Miguel is retracting his claws from the masked man’s body, blood tainting the tips of his fingers, as he breaths harshly but somehow still controlled.

Miguel looks to the guy knocked out in front of you, still occasionally twitching from the strong current of electricity. You feel light headed, placing your hands on your knees as you try to slow your breathing.

But then you feel a hand. And not a friendly one as the masked man passes on some of the electricity moving through his body into your thigh. You scream, the half electrocuted guy—his hair frizzed and slightly cinched—stumbling to a stance, just as you fall to the floor.

Then you hear a crash and a curdling scream—not from you.

Miguel inserts his claws into the guys neck, practically ripping his throat out, as the guy chokes on his own blood. The blood sprays across Miguel’s face, leaving slight speckles as he rips the rest of the man with his teeth, letting him drop to the floor.

It was animalistic in way, as his tongue licked his fangs, his breathing now harsher—angrier.

But then he sees you drifting from consciousness on the floor.

Miguel doesn’t know what breathing is, or the meaning of the word slow, as he reaches your side in a millisecond, his hand coming to grab your face between his fingers—maybe a little harshly but his entire being was still on overdrive.

Miguel tightens his hold on your cheeks as he slightly shakes your head. “Y/l/n.” He hisses. “Wake up.“

He’s gentle now, realising that you’re a human and not some villain he needs to hurt, as he checks your pulse not wanting his claws to cut you. “Y/n!” He finally exclaims, as you get roused awake.

Your leg feels painfully numb, as your eyes flutter open. A thin layer of tears is making your eyes sparkle as you finally meet Miguel’s gaze. You try to slow your breathing, shutting your eyes to reassess.

Miguel tightens his hold on your cheeks. “No, no. Open them.”

You do, though they stay hooded. “I’m just…tired. No need to sound so harsh—shit.” The lasting electricity still spasms up your leg, as the hold of Miguel’s hand makes the tears fall.

You begin to shake your head, partially trying to get out of his hold. “Stop.” You say.

“Stop what?” Miguel instantly replies, his gaze shooting to your thigh.

“Just—“ you breathe. Then Miguel finds the deep scratch mark on your arm, his hand grabbing it as his eyes dart. “It’s fine. Just a cut.”

“Y/n, you just got attacked. You’re a weak human, don’t try to sound so tough.”

“You’re not helping.” You hiss, tilting your head back as you try to keep the tears in, not wanting them to fall. “And that was kind of mean.” You mutter the last part just for the sake of it. Using your pain induced state as an excuse to blurt out your annoyed feelings with Miguel.

Miguel grabs your chin, trying to pull your gaze back to his, but you resist, keeping it tilted away. “Stop.” You say again.

“No.” He answers, successfully pulling your chin back, and holding it there. “Why aren’t you looking me?”

Your eyes are darting around, before you choose to close them. “Y/n.” Miguel is stern, but underlying that he sounds almost desperate—almost.

You can feel him move closer to you and you place your hand out to stop him, your palm ending up against his chest. “Can you not—“

“What—not help you?” He asks harshly.

“Can you look away.” You say, finally opening your eyes. “Please.”

“Why?” Miguel isn’t budging, staying close to you. He’s already dialled in medical on his wristwatch.

“Jeezus Christ, Miguel! I don’t like fucking crying in front of people. It’s a weird thing I can’t get rid of. I hate it. It makes me feel embarrassed—“

“Embarrassed?” Miguel interrupts.

“Yes. Embarrassed.” You hiss harshly. You couldn’t find your filter, your tone far more aggressive then usual with the throbbing pain in your arm and the spasm of your thigh.

“Well, that stupid.” He says.

“Yeah, it is. But it’s not going away. So if you could just look away and let me…I dunno…recompose myself.”

“Recompose yourself?”

“Yes! Stop repeating what I’m saying!” You exclaim, only to follow with a groan of pain as you try to sit up.

Miguel knows your mind is frazzled and your body is reactive. He pushes you back down, grabbing your cheeks again.

“You got partially electrocuted and cut—deep, I’d think you’re a psychopath If you didn’t cry.” Miguel says, his volume dropped to one almost soothing—almost.

“Doesn’t make me hate it any less.” You mutter.

“Wow…I’ve never seen you this annoyed before.”

You narrow your eyes on him. His hand that was gingerly inspecting your thigh had slipped over your waist, partially caging you in.

You try again to sit up. But Miguel yet again, keeps you pressed to the floor. “O’hara.”

He leans closer to you, narrowing his eyes. “Stop moving.”

“I’m fine.”

“No your not.” He easily answers, which earns him a half hearted scoff. “You know I think I prefer you trying to suck up instead.”

You meet his gaze glaring. “I have not been sucking up, I just like—“

“This job. Yeah I’ve heard you.” He interrupts.

He can hear commotion behind him, but the voices of rushing spider-people makes his shoulders relax. The medical have arrived, and as you notice the new people you quickly wipe your cheeks, brushing against Miguel’s hand, as you get up.

Miguel finally let’s you, by slipping his arm around the back of your waist. You try to swat it away—any physical touch usually induces the waterworks you desperately wanted to keep at bay—but he tightens his hold, resulting in your side being flush against him.

The medical spiders inspect your bruised body. “It’s her thigh and upper arm…” Miguel begins telling the spiders. Then he grabs your hands holding your palms out. “And hands.” The burnt marks look raw, and you hiss as Miguel had to slightly stretch the skin to show.

He immediately lets go upon hearing the sound of pain. “Thanks Miguel, we’ll take it from here.” A medical spider says, already at your side checking your cut.

Miguel narrows his eyes on the spider variant, watching as you bite your lip as they inspect your wound. He sighs, finally getting up and letting your waist go. At the sudden shift your hand flies out to his leg, or more specifically his thigh.

Your quick, tight grip has Miguel stopping. You change your position, not having realised how much you were using Miguel as physical support, before you’re quickly taking your hand away and coughing.

You give him a brief nod. “Thanks for the help.”

Miguel scoffs. “Help? I did a bit more than help.”

You’re praying to get some anaesthetic soon so that your pain won’t make you loose your job. You press your lips together harshly. “Of course. You did spectacular.” You say.

The sarcasm isn’t lost on him. He eyes you once more before he’s walking out the exit.

You sat there, finally taking a proper breath. You don’t know why you were holding it for so long. …maybe you did have a clue. The image of Miguel ripping the guys neck out, blood staining his face is still fresh in your mind.

You’ll be honest, it scared you. He kind of scared you. But not in way you’d think he’d hurt you, just one that made him seem unpredictable. I mean what happened just then, with his touching and softer tone was something completely unforeseen.

If someone told you he would be do that today you’d actually laugh. Miguel was unpredictable and intimidating in general, sure, but what seemed to scare you more was the way he looked when his eyes shone with blood lust. His eye colour seemed fitting now.

You also happened to be scared of the way the sight made you feel. Something that settled far too low in your stomach.

;;

Miguel went straight to the lobby where a spider variant he kept high up in the ranks resided. “You. Get up. Now.”

The spider variant immediately stood, as he nervously followed Miguel to his office. The orange tech screens were the main thing lighting the place.

And as Spider-Man took a breath he lost it as soon as Miguel slowly turned to him. Blood still stained his skin and claws and suit, and the spider-man felt the urge to run.

“Where were you today?” Miguel asked, leaning back against a table and crossing his arms almost too casually.

“I was…here, Miguel.” He said steeling his spine. He knew where this was going.

“Were you?” Miguel asked, his eyes trained on the spider.

Spider man gulped. “I’m really sorry, Miguel. I didn’t hear any sort of explosion. I didn’t get any awareness. Which…shouldn’t happen.”

“You know what ‘shouldn’t happen’?” Miguel asks, now twirling an empty glass on the table. “Spider men and woman shouldn’t only rely on that “tingle thing”.”

The spider hangs his head lower in apology. “Someone could have died today.” Miguel continued. “And you would have what—been too busy playing poker?”

The spider variant winces at his words. Miguel knew of his addiction, always using his free time to gamble.

“Do you get that?” Miguel asks.

“I do. I’m sorry.”

“Sadly that’s not gonna cut it.” Miguel says, making spider man look up. “I left you in charge while I was gone. You failed miserably.”

“Miguel. I didn’t mean to only rely on my usual awareness, it’s a force of habit. That’s never happened before. I can always sense when danger is close.”

“But you didn’t.” Miguel says. “There’s someone in medical right now who got injured—badly. And she was all alone.” Miguel has stood up, stalking towards him.

“Now for personal reasons I may find her annoying.” He quickly mutters out. “But that certainly doesn’t mean you can let her die. Do you hear me?”

Spider man quickly nods. “Of course. This’ll never happen again.”

“No it won’t.” Miguel turns away, and the finality in his voice makes spider man’s eyes widen.

“Miguel—“

“Go home.” Miguel cuts in, stepping up to his screens. Anger still seeped from every pore.

;;

You woke up, feeling a dull ache in your body, but for the most part you felt alright. Better, a lot better. You swing your feet off the medical bed, realising that the lights were out.

Your feet hit the cold floor, before you quietly step towards the exit door.

Making it out to the hallway you were grateful you were already on the high level, no need for a long travel up the stairs.

You needed to rest. Alone. Not surrounded my medical items. You slowly headed to your room, but stop upon seeing a familiar body walking away.

“O’hara.” You say, making the figure freeze.

You quicken your steps, reaching him. He turns and you have to stop the intake of breathe at the reminded visual of the now dried blood.

“You didn’t want a shower?” You joked, forcing a chuckle.

Miguel just scans your body, narrowing his eyes, his expression is it’s typical, solemn and moody. “You should get back to bed.”

“I was actually heading to my room. But I just wanted to…thank you.” You say, finally making Miguel meet your gaze.

“You really did help me back there.” You spare him a small smile and a nod. Then your gaze gets caught back up in the blood stains, as you gulp.

“You saw, didn’t you?” Miguel suddenly asks.

You look up. “Mm?”

“The reason I’m covered in blood.”

“Oh.” You say. “It was…quite impressive.”

“No it wasn’t.” Miguel says making your brows furrow. He steps a fraction closer. “You didn’t think so.”

“What do you mean?”

Another step. “You thought I looked animalistic. Scary.”

You dart your gaze down to his slowly moving feet before quickly looking back up. You shake your head. And in return Miguel nods.

“You think I’m scary.” Everything he’s saying is statements. He knows, but you keep shaking your head.

“Don’t do that. Don’t lie.” He says, much, much closer now. “You’re terrible at it.”

You stop the shake of your head, blinking a few times. “O’hara—“

“Just be honest.”

“I am.” You say, straightening your spine. And as your eyes dart you notice a deep cut running across his thigh. The dried blood, his.

You step closer. “Why didn’t you get that checked out?”

He glances down at his wound. “It’s fine.”

“Oh come on, don’t do that. Don’t act like your above it all, including pain, and infection.” Your blatancy makes Miguel raise a brow.

You pause for a moment, mulling over potential decisions in your head. Then before it could get later and before you could back down you speak. “Follow me. Let me help.”

Miguel stares at you. “It’s fine—“ he goes to monotonously repeat.

You just grab his wrist, pulling him towards your room. Miguel grabs your wrist in turn, preparing to pull your hand off.

“Hey. You made me go to your room, now I’m just returning the favour.” You say.

Miguel stares at you, scoffing. You let go of his wrist, knowing you don’t have the strength to pull him. “If you’re scared I don’t know what I’m doing, then know that I studied to be a nurse before I found out about…all this.”

“Why?” Miguel asks. “Why help?” He elaborates.

“I just told you.” You say, beginning to head to your room. “I feel weird if I’ve seen your room when you haven’t yet seen mine.”

“That’s not a good reason at all.”

“But your walking my way aren’t you?”

Miguel hadn’t realised that he’d moved to your door without the permission of his mind. He curses under his breath as your scent floods his senses, your room making it ten times worse. This is the last thing he needed.

But you’re already shutting the door and ushering him further in. “You can um…” you look around. “You can just sit on the bed.”

No—Miguel thought. God, no. But you were already getting out an older looking kit from under textbooks—your stuff having been brought to you from your universe.

He slowly sits, trying not to get one bit comfortable. You reach his side placing the kit on the bed, as you drop to your knees.

Miguel’s breathing stops at the visual. You’re directly by his thigh…kneeling. No, no.

Miguel clicks his jaw, looking away. He looks back down, to see your hand is midway from touching his cut thigh. “Why are you doing this?” He can’t fathom why you would actually want to help him.

You sigh. “I just feel kinda bad.”

“Bad?”

“Mhm.” You nod.

“For any particular reason?” Miguel pushes.

“No.” You sarcastically scoff. “You’re just generally a person everyone feels bad for.”

Miguel narrows his eyes as you chuckle. He shifts on your bed. “Stop doing that.”

Your hand stops by his cut, thinking it’s the touching of his wound, when in actual fact it was the way your ‘chuckle’ had sent a strange vibration through him to somewhere he desperately didn’t want you to notice. He was right. This was a terrible idea.

Then you’re touching him. Delicate and gentle, as you pull away his ripped suit. You begin to dab what looks to be an alcohol cloth onto his wound, and in response Miguel snarls, his grip tightening around your sheets.

“Sorry.” You mutter.

“Dios.” He mutters, closing his eyes a moment. “Stop being nice.”

You look up at him. “I have to say, I’ve never heard someone say that. Usually it’s ‘stop being mean’.”

His face is tight as you continue to clean his cut. “Someone said that to you?”

You pause. “No actually. But I just mean in general. And I’m not being ‘nice’ to you. I’m returning a favour.”

“Ah.” He hums, before all his muscles tense. “Can you hurry up.”

“You’ve never let anyone touch you up before, have you?” Catching onto the fact that he’s clearly cleaned his past wounds himself.

Miguel glares at you. “So, you can stop.” He reaches to take the cloth from you, but you lean away resting your hand on his knee for support.

“You can just sit on the bed.” Miguel grits out. He couldn’t watch you being on your knees for him any longer. Not unless he’d do something he’d end up regretting.

“That’s okay, it’s an easier angle here.”

God. You had to stop. ‘Easier angel’? Yeah, Miguel definitely wasn’t thinking about you cleaning his cut. He runs his hand through his hair.

You quickly reach out grabbing his wrist. He looks at you, expectantly. “You have uh…blood on your fingertips…claws.”

Miguel darts his gaze across your face. “And you’re worried about it getting my…hair dirty?”

You shrug. “Well, now you’re making me sound stupid.”

“I don’t need to do that.” He quips, and you shoot him a glare. “But um…” he drifts off, as you look up at him, now waiting expectantly.

“Did you find me…scary, or whatever?” He asks, and surprisingly there’s a hint of…vulnerability hidden in his tone? No—you think to yourself—that can’t be right. “Before. With the anomalies.”

You dab a fraction harder, making Miguel hiss a groan. You ignore the way it vibrates through your body. You shake your head.

“Why do you keep lying?” He asks.

You sigh. “I just—“

“Just?” Miguel seemed to really want to get an answer out of you. He shifts closer. And when you don’t answer, continuing to focus on his wound, he grabs your jaw, pulling you up to meet his gaze. You gulp, his large hand nearly reaching to wrap around your neck.

“Do I scare you?”

Your chest picks up a quicker beat. He leans closer, pulling you towards him, your chest hitting his leg. “Do I—“

“Yes. Alright.” You quickly say. “A little bit…yes.”

His grip tightens around your chin a fraction. “Because of what you saw?”

“And the way you talk to people.” You mutter out. Why were saying this? This isn’t something you say to your boss.

You hadn’t noticed at first but one of his claws had begun to brush back and forth against the skin of your jaw, his eyes not leaving yours. You were utterly frozen. And there’s a moment that you just catch where his gaze darts down to your lips, his breath feeling extremely close.

But then he’s leaning away, his jaw clenching as he looks to the door. “Are you done?”

You quickly look down to his cut, rushing to get out a bandage. “Uh, almost.” Your entire body was buzzing.

While you stayed focused on finishing him up, Miguel’s gaze went back to staring at you. He almost gave in—almost. He wouldn’t, though.

You were scared of him. He knew you were somewhat so, but now hearing you say it confirmed that you’d never see him how he had gradually started seeing you. He had to stop. Now, before he dove in far too deep.

He couldn’t let himself go any deeper. Because at this rate he’d certainly drown, and if he was going to die, it wouldn’t be from some silly little crush.

okay, I’m sorry, I lied. there is nothing sexual in here. but I didn’t think adding anything like that yet would work. since a lot of you guys asked for a slow burn

again, I hope this is up to a good standard for you guys to continue reading. I wanted to add something a little different then the usual Spanish lesson then Miguel’s end of the deal. I needed some action of some sort.

and ofc, part five will come soon x love you all MWAH

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thesilmarillionblog · 5 months ago

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𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 10

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, hurt, language, Soldier Boy gets hurt, PTSD, mention of drugs, mention of torture, reader gets hurt

Word Count: 4245

A/N: English is not my first language.

♩ This is the song of the chapter, 'Alone and Together' by No Clear Mind.

When Ben sat down on the bed and waited, neither of you said anything or did anything for a while. You hated how he still treated you, so you turned your back on him while closing your eyes and avoiding the heavy feeling in your heart. You wanted to let things go, but you also felt like you had a lot to say to him about how deeply his actions had wounded you and how much you still suffered. You stayed mute because you knew that talking about it would only make things worse and give him the impression that you still cared.

All you longed for was for him to see how much his acts had hurt and pained you and to realize just how selfish he was. But you eventually realized that Ben wasn't someone who would actually listen to you, even for a brief moment. Even if you decided to give him another chance and let him get close to you again, he would still hurt you without considering the consequences or your feelings; therefore, it was best to let the past die in the past and leave memories of both joy and sorrow behind. These blissful days would never return.

You were ruminating so much that you shifted on the bed until your chest reached the edge, making it obvious that you didn't want to come into contact with him. Ben seemed to pause due to your behavior.

“I don't bite,” he said, annoyed that you were making every effort to avoid him. This ended the quiet that lingered between you. “You can come a little closer. Sleep comfortable.”

“I am comfortable.”

He sighed with annoyance as he made his way to the bed. Ben considered drawing a little closer to you, but he quickly dismissed this idea. You would become upset based on your response to his touch and your fragile attitude. Even though he didn't know you were in his thoughts at all times, he felt extremely hungry and affectionate toward you ever since he woke up. And though every cell in his body was screaming to be near you, to touch you, and to hold you close to him, the realization that you didn't feel the same way made him feel a little insecure—a feeling he wasn't used to experiencing in his connection with you.

He whispered, “You'll fall there,” in an attempt to persuade you.” I'm not going to touch you.” Again.

“It won't hurt if I fall, though.” In an attempt to find some solace, you took the entire blanket from him and placed it between your thighs. “I'm a supe too, remember?” you exclaimed.

Ben leaned down at the head of the bed, his veiny and powerful arms supporting his head while he stared at his bare chest and tried not to smile when you took the blanket away from him a little too firmly.

He abruptly muttered, “I'm sorry,” in a dry voice, trying to start a conversation while he continued to glance at your back and listen to your quiet, gentle heartbeats.

“For what?”

How should he respond? For shoving you into the bed, sucking your nipples, kissing you out of the blue, and attempting to fuck you like a wolf in heat? Taking a big breath, he folded his arms across his chest and scowled, not knowing quite what to say. He didn't used to talk to you like this since you weren't that far away from him before he screwed things up.

You attempted to contain your rage and kept your eyes closed because you didn't want to get into another fight with Ben, and you knew how sensitive his nerves were. You were also feeling a little anxious about his new, unpredictable abilities.

“Just don't do it again,” you simply said, trying to sound calm but firm. “I am serious, Ben.”

He wanted to argue, but he was at a loss for words. He answered, “Of course,” in a low voice, knowing that he shouldn't have behaved in that manner before speaking with you in an appropriate way.

Ben knew you moved too much when you slept, so even though he wanted to be near you, he went to the edge of the bed to give you enough room to make you feel comfortable and sleep in peace. While he listened to your calm breathing and watched as you swiftly fell off to sleep, he reminisced on your shared memories and felt sorrow for all that had happened between you, including how much he had messed up. He realized it would be difficult to win back your trust, but he knew he would do everything in his power to do so. He just didn't know how.

This morning, just after changing into your new clothes in the restroom, you ate breakfast quietly as Butcher and his buddies talked about Vought and the Seven. When Annie began to dispute with Butcher and Hughie, you did not interrupt them—in contrast to Ben, who was also having arguments with Butcher—and instead concentrated on your meal.

“I'm just saying consuming those Temp-V's doesn't sound safe, and you're forcing Hughie to inject it in himself too,” Annie pointed to Hughie's face as he attempted to eat breakfast quietly.

Hughie stated, “He's not pressuring me. I'm taking Temp-V on my own initiative, and I find it to be really helpful,” he said quietly. Annie shot him a cold stare, which instantly caused him to stop talking.

“Why the fuck are you all attacking me?” Butcher spoke while lifting his arms. “Temp-V is absolutely secure. It only grants us superpowers for a full day. Is there any damage in this”

“Oh my god,” Annie muttered, irritated with Butcher's impetuous behavior. “Don't you think it's a bit atypical to play with your DNA that fluently?”

“So what?” Annie was cut off by Ben's stern voice. “Even if it harms their biology, it's not wrong to use it since it's better to die than to live like a weak pussy.”

Butcher instantly agreed with Ben: “Soldier Boy's got a point,” and he gave Hughie a tight squeeze. “Besides, we are just a bunch of annoying losers against the Seven and Vought. You have to find them more for us because we need to use all of this trash. I don't want to shatter your little heart, love, but all you do is consume up my electricity, and right now we are outnumbered against them.”

Annie's jaw tightened as she glanced at Butcher, her eyes suddenly brightening with a deep shade of yellow.

“Maybe your electricity can be useful at some points; what do you say?”

“Hey,” Butcher grinned at her and added, “Let's not spoil our family meeting. Stay calm. That's not how you keep your man, right?”

Hughie put his hand Annie's and softly said, “Can we talk about this later?”

Annie sighed angrily, shoving Hughie's hand away from her and getting to her feet, adding, “You know, I need to go, and we'll definitely talk about this again.”

As Butcher said Annie farewell before leaving the house after their argument, you and Ben were observing their facial expressions. Hughie looked at Ben, irritated, as he took his phone from him and began to play with it. You weren't asking anything, but you were occasionally peering in,om him even though you were rather interested in what he was doing with the phone.

“We need two phones just like this one.” Ben abruptly said, “One for her, one for me,” holding up the device to Butcher's face.

“Are you a teenager obsessed with technology?” He was instantly teased by Butcher, who gave him one of his nasty smiles.

Ben looked at Hughie, who was kindly asking for his phone back, and said, “If you are not going to give us two phones, I'm going to take this,” but Ben wasn't even paying attention to Hughie at all.

“Alright, we'll get your phones. Could you please return mine to me?”

With a quick motion, you grabbed the phone out of Ben's hand and delivered it to Hughie while smiling. With a look of graditude on his face, he returned your shy smile.

Ben said, glaring at Butcher's face, “Today,” giving Hughie no attention.

“Alright,” Butcher agreed. “We'll buy your phones today and make sure you two watch the best porn and make yourself busy, alright?”

“Ben is a man of actions; he likes to screw every kind of woman in real life,” you sarcastically remarked, grimaced at Butcher's remarks and folding your arms over your chest.

Ben immediately asserted, “I don't,” and you asked Butcher, “Can we already move to the place we're going to stay in?” without giving him the chance to respond to you.

“Sure, sweetie, but let me have my breakfast in peace, and then we can leave.”

You watched the TV and the news until Butcher and the others finished their meal, which was less than an hour ago. You looked for any updates regarding Earving, but there was nothing at all. Everything on every channel was Homelander and political crap.

You could tell he was a dangerous man by the way he used language, his professionalism in interviews, and his controlled facial expression. It appeared that Vought had discovered the ideal obedient superhero that fit their preferences.

Ben quietly murmured, “Hey, we're leaving,” as you were lost in idleness.

You nodded to him, got up, and watched him pick up his shield from where he'd put it yesterday on the corner. That was the moment you realized you had never really used your powers. Since you weren't safe at all and you weren't sure whether you were experiencing any hidden side effects like Ben, you realized you wanted to exercise as soon as possible.

After leaving Kimiko and Frenchie at home, Butcher and Hughie took you to the place where you and Ben will be living for a while. Hughie kindly assisted you in learning how to use the phones that Butcher had purchased for you and Ben. You learned how to make calls easily, at least. Ben had complained that you just required his number and that no one else's was needed, but you disregarded him and asked Hughie to record everyone's number on your phone.

While you were looking over the house, Ben placed his shield in a corner. Despite its small size, you felt safer there than you would in the city since it was isolated. The smell of this place, which was like a forest, finally helped you to relax after the sickeningly heavy and dirty air of the city center.

Butcher put his hand in his pocket and stated, “You're just going to stay here for a while until me and my boys sort things out with the Vought and until you are a bit forgotten by the angry people of America. I'm telling you, though, don't leave the house. If you do, I'll know. I will occasionally check on you.”

“Go suck a friend's balls and make sure he puts his jizz in your empty mouth.” Ben scowled in frustration, set down the closest coach, and put his hands behind his head. “All you do is talk for fucks sake.”

Cursing him back in a mocking manner, Butcher dragged you into a corner and said, “You seem like a more reasonable supe than him, don't you? You should

stay inside the house, dear. I mean it. You have all you need here, and it's a pretty safe location. I will come see how you're doing.”

“Alright, alright.” You nodded to him after glancing at Ben, who had already begun watching TV, but you knew that he was keeping his ears on Butcher and you. “But what will happen afterwards?”

“You hand that off to your teammate and me. There are a lot of things to do here, and you'll have time to think about your future.”

“I just don't want to get sucked into something dangerous; I'm not a bad person, and I've already gone through a lot.” It felt uncomfortable to share your anxieties with him, but you knew you had to be clear from the beginning and that they needed to understand you.

“I don't even know how to fix things between myself and this country,” you added, crossing your arms over your chest. “And no offense, but I don't trust you and your friends at all.”

Ben grimaced as he heard your intimate conversation with Butcher, during which you confided your anxieties to him. Given that you had known one another for a long time, had an extensive amount of memories, and experienced similar experiences, he ought to have been the one with whom you opened up about everything. The idea that you would trust a complete stranger—someone you had just met—irritated Ben. He should have been to one you opened yourself. It was something else Ben needed to solve with you.

Ben also knew that, as long as you were with him, nobody could hurt you. He would never be tricked again, and that is the sole reason he was captured. He would ensure that no one, not even himself, could ever hurt you again.

“You have no other chance but to trust me and my boys though, right? Why being so ungrateful? I'm taking of you two well enough,” said Butcher with a sly smirk and gave you squeeze to your shoulder shortly just before he left the house.

None of you spoke as Butcher left the house, but after a while, you felt his heavy eyes on you as he shifted postures on the couch and watched the TV in silence.

Ben listened to you while you were taking a shower when he grew tired of watching television. Although he wasn't intentionally focusing on you, his supe hearing was drawn to you while you were around. He was compelled to listen to every sound you made. He couldn't deny that your presence soothed him either. Ben didn't care what the reason was as long as you were with him at that particular moment, which might have been anything different, something deeper, or the fact that you were the only person he actually trusted. He knew what you had was special.

You returned to the room after a long shower, changed into clean, gratefully new clothes, and saw him pour whiskey into his glass. You wondered whether his body could withstand a day without drugs or alcohol.

“Why are you looking in such a way?” Ben took a sip of his drink and asked in a lighthearted manner. “I'm curious about what you're thinking right now.”

“I was wondering if you could just give up drinking or using drugs for a single day,” you asked, getting annoyed that he seemed okay with everything. happening.

“I survived for decades without using them, sweetie,” he murmured, instantly putting an evil grin on his face.

You changed the topic and said in a low voice, “Do you think they'll trick us? They can easily fill this house with the same gas that made us sleep for ages.”

Ben instantly stiffened up and felt aggressive as he considered the idea of being betrayed by teammates once more and returning to the lab in Russia. When he considered the years he wasted and the treachery he had experienced—years without you—it was difficult to contain his rage.

He filled his glass once more and remarked, “They might try.” His eyes remained fixed on yours. “I doubt they would dare do such a thing. They really want that Homelander guy dead and are most likely attempting to kill that man for a very long period, but it seems that they ultimately fall unsuccessful.”

You shivered and felt uneasy when he brought about Homelander, and you whispered, “There has to be a reason why they can't handle a single supe, Ben.”

“Of course,” he said without hesitation. “They are just some weak, useless piece of shitbags, that's it, and that's why they need me.”

“I watched Homelander, that man, on TV. He is undoubtedly skilled at manipulating the public and the media, and in today's society, power seems to be much more significant.”

“Remember what Butcher said: People easily forget, and they'll forget him as well when they realize he's not the strongest supe at all.”

You scowled in annoyance at seeing Ben had no longer cared about the world or how things were working at all. You didn't know if he was up to something or whether he simply didn't give a damn other than killing Homelander.

“Ben, I don't believe that getting rid of Homelander will resolve anything from our side. Can't you see how everyone hates me and you at the moment? If you attack Homelander and Vought, things will only become worse.” You replied angrily, annoyed by Ben's careless demeanor, “Butcher and his crew just want to use you against him.”

As he argued with you, Ben let go of the empty glass he was holding and sighed as he observed your annoyance growing. He trusted your strength, but at some point, he became uneasy about your vulnerability.

Ben vowed to destroy Vought and all Seven members when he was set free that day and began searching for you. He understood that the only way to get things going right would be to resolve the issue between you, him, and Vought. He would take over the whole company and form his own new team, proving to the world that he was the strongest supe and that nobody could stop him. In that way, he would be protecting you most importantly. For the time being, though, it was better the less you knew.

Ben said in a determined voice, “I won't let anything happen to you,” as he came nearer to you. Despite being too close and yearning to touch you, he refrained from doing so. “I would never let someone hurt you ever again.”

With a heavy heart, you whispered, “The only one who hurt me was you, Ben,” stepping back and creating some distance. Everything you wanted to say to his face was eating you alive, and you felt like you would blow out at any moment. “It seems like you didn't take any lessons from your mistakes, and you're going to make me drown with you again.”

He said, “I made a deal with Butcher,” ignoring your comments as he saw the sorrowful, icy look on your face. “I promised him that I would help him kill Homelander, and he would help me save you. A deal is a deal.”

Ben wanted you to know that he wasn't just going to break his word; in fact, what he was doing was for you. He was so desperate to find you that day that he was willing to kill Vought's top supe and everyone in a heartbeat.

“Since when are you so keen on keeping your word?” You asked in a bitter voice.

Ben was ready to tell you not to think about the past, but he stopped himself because he knew it would hurt and infuriate you even more. Instead, he whispered, “Since right now,” softly, and he slowly stepped forward to confront you. He simply knew it was time to have some conversation. “Look, I know what happened between us in the past wasn't just right, and I wasn't fair to you, but let me fix things.”

Perplexed by his words, you said, “Let you fix things?” Remembering every horrible thing he had done to you, your heart began to rush with hurt and despair, and he was still unable to truly apologize. “Ben, you abandoned me after cheating on me with Crimson. How can you fix something like that? Talking things out can help clear up misunderstandings, but not that.”

He muttered, “I was wrong about everything and about you,” not knowing how to express how he felt. He found it much more difficult to open up when he saw the disappointed and cold expression in your eyes. “I cared about you a lot; I've always had, and now too. I didn’t know back then, but now I do.”

Ben didn't make a single effort to even slightly touch you, but he was too close to touch you again. For an instant, Ben's gaze lingered on your hands, his heart shattered by the longing to embrace and caress you. He never imagined you would be this different, but here you were.

This time, you spoke gently, understanding that Ben was simply too blind to really see the damage that he had caused. “I don't think you'll even understand your actions, Ben,” you murmured.

He opened his lips to say something, but you cut him off right away. “I gave you everything I could, Ben: loyalty, friendship, love, innocence, understanding... I never asked for anything in return. I accepted and loved you as you were.”

You spoke softly, focusing your attention on his deep emerald eyes and hoping he could understand you. “I gave you everything I had, but you kept what we had concealed from everyone, made me feel like I was a rat, and I never once complained—you already know that I supported the choice you made from the start. When you proposed that our connection be kept secret, I mistakenly assumed that you were protecting me from Vought and everyone else. This was foolish of me, and I held onto this belief all the way to the end.”

Ben listened to you with a pained expression as you talked about the things that hurt you the most, finally.

You continued after a little period of silence between you, stating, “You acted as though you cared for me when we first met, when we were by ourselves. You threw me aside when Countess showed up, kicked me from the squad, and then you tried to bring me back. I attempted to make amends for whatever I had done, despite the harm you had done to me, believing that my actions were the cause of your behavior. However, you continued to ignore me, failing to recognize the true colors of her.”

The image of Crimson's face struck Ben's heart with rage. If he had simply killed her on the first day, none of this would have happened.

He whispered, “I know I should have listened to you, I wish I could turn back time,” cutting you off. “But you must know I never loved her.”

Ben was unsure of his feelings for you, but he knew he had never loved Crimson and never felt anything at all for her. All he knew was that he needed you by his side and that he cared passionately for you. Your presence filled his body and soul with warmth and comfort. It didn't matter the name of whatever he felt about you and what you shared; it was something deeper and more special than anything someone could share with another. At least he knew that for sure.

You gently answered in an understanding tone, “I know, Ben,” knowing that he would never cease to love anyone including you.

You came to the realization after all those years that nothing, not even giving your life for him, could win his affection. You used to think that if you gave him everything you had, there would be a way to win his heart. Nevertheless, nothing would be sufficient to win his love.

His gloved fingers, a tiny glimmer of hope in his heart, only lightly touched yours to gauge how comfortable you were with it. “I know I caused you so much pain you never ever deserved, and I'm sorry for everything I have done to you,” in a sincere voice. “But give me a chance to fix everything. All I want is you and your trust.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

“And I forgive you, Ben. For everything you have done,” you sincerely said, giving a nod to him, understanding that there was no going back and that what was done was done. “But my love is gone.”

Next Chapter

A/N: I don’t know how this is even going, but here we are. Kind of feeling insecure and hate writing nowadays to be honest. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated. They keep me going. Take care. “-“

*Losing You series masterlist is here.

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godmadeaterribleerror · 4 months ago

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Chapter 6 - I've Been Searching for a Fortified Defense

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: As we begin our first 5-digit word count chapter (I can’t be stopped, someone take away my keyboard) and I find a stride of about two chapters per week, I want to say that: A) I fully intend on finishing this story. I plotted out the whole thing before I started, have made a few adjustments given the pacing I’ve done so far, and with how it’s broken down right now we’ll reach the end in 2-3 months. B) Thank y’all from the bottom of my heart for reading! If you have theories or thoughts or feedback please don’t hesitate to share them! I love hearing what you think of the plot and the characters, and every interaction means the world to me. Whether you’re only reading or leaving comments as well, thank you so damn much. I’ll see you next chapter (it’s gonna be a doozy) <3

Chapter Title from Bells in Santa Fe by Halsey.

Word Count: 11.2k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: You throw a punch, and Phase One: Operation Quick and Bald goes. Not well, but it goes. Contains usual warnings.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, fluff, angst

Read on A03!

Chapter 5 - Chapter 7

Taglist: @lordofthunderthr @kritara

Want to be tagged? Just ask!

Ben dodged the third punch in a row, grinning widely right up until the fourth one landed on his face.

“Ha!” She yelled, drawing back to shake her first out. “Take that, you weirdly fast man.”

Ben rolled his eyes, rubbing his face lightly. It hadn’t hurt—he’d barely even felt it—but She was being real fucking smug for someone who’d only just landed a hit after a damn week of attempting to do so.

“Yeah, sure, Sunshine. Keep it the fuck up, and at this rate it’ll only take you another couple thousand years to surpass Muhammad Ali.”

She raised her brows at Ben, pausing with a tilt of her head. “You were a fan of Muhammad Ali?”

He nodded, giving her a scrunched look of annoyance. “I’m a fucking American, and there ain’t nothing more red-blooded American than punching commies like that son of a bitch did.”

“What?”

“When he fought the Russian, and won. That’s fucking American.”

“Ben, you’re thinking of the plot of Rocky IV.”

“No, Muhammad Ali fought that Russian pussy and kicked his fucking ass.”

“No, Sylvester Stallone fought the Russian pussy and kicked his fucking ass. In a movie.” She laughed to herself. “I’m shocked you even saw Rocky IV, let alone were so impacted by it to let the plot override your knowledge of a real life person.”

“Shut up,” Ben grunted, moving his hands back to a defensive stance. She fucking always won these stupid arguments, and Ben couldn’t actually prove it, but he knew She was changing the fucking internet she loved so damn much to match her claims. “Go again.”

“Someone missed nap time.” She muttered under her breath, even though she knew Ben could fucking hear her, but put her fists up anyways. “Can this be the last one? I’m hungry.”

Instead of answering, Ben just launched himself at her, and She jumped to the side with a yelp.

“What the fuck, Ben!”

He turned and threw another punch, feeling pleased at the smooth way she ducked away and met it with a punch of her own. Her face had lost the pissy shock, laser-sharp concentration replacing it. Her eyes were narrowed, darting across Ben as he moved, her bobbing and weaving wasn’t entirely shit, and her heart was controlled with her breathing. She landed her second punch, this one on his shoulder, and Ben laughed, delivering one of his own.

“Christ, Sunshine, you’re fucking weak.” He laughed, examining Her carefully for any loss of control.

“I’ll kill you with my bare hands, Bitch.” She growled, lunging forward and grunting in frustration as Ben dodged with ease.

“That’s my line.” He taunted. “And you couldn’t even kill a man with an assault rifle if he was a fucking foot away from you.”

“Blow me.”

“I’ve been fucking trying- Fuck!” She landed her third punch, and it burned. Ben reached to touch where she’d hit and felt the skin mending across his jaw.

She was grinning in a wide, toothy, satisfied way. “Suck on that, cunt.”

“Bitch,” he muttered, looking down at his hand to see it raw and red from the contact with his face, with some of his fucking hair stuck to it.

“Did you burn off my fucking beard!” His head shot up to see a half-sheepish, half-amused look on her face, lips curled and eyes wide.

“Oops.”

He yelled her name, and she had the fucking nerve to giggle. “We said no fucking powers!”

“I forgot.” She said lamely, her face less and less apologetic by the second, giggling again as she offered some of the most insincere comfort Ben had ever heard. “It’s not even that noticeable! You look just as good as before!”

His anger faded, and he gave Her a cocky smirk, raising his brows. “You think I look good, Sunshine?”

“I’m being nice. Don’t ruin it.” She muttered, her face adorably flushed, and Ben didn’t miss the skip of her heart.

“Whatever keeps you up at night.”

“That’s not the phrase.”

He winked. “I know.”

She scoffed and turned away, but not before Ben could see the slight smile on her lips. “I’m going to shower, I’ll meet you in the living room in fifteen. If you’re not there, with food, I’m eating the TV.”

Ben frowned, calling after Her figure moving down the hall. “Has the TV been edible this whole fucking time and you didn’t fucking tell me?!”

Her laughter echoed back down the hall. "You're real fucking gullible, grampa!"

“You know I can’t fucking tell when you’re joking about that shit, you bitch!”

“Fourteen minutes, cunt!”

“How the fuck am I supposed to make food in fourteen minutes?!”

“You’re a big boy, you’ll figure it out!”

Grumbling a string of cusses Ben hoped She could fucking feel, Ben grabbed a cup of instant noodles and threw them in the microwave, wondering if She would notice if he spit in hers. After pulling them out, grabbing two spoons from the counter that he almost immediately bent, spilling one of the cups as he noticed the damaged utensils, spilling the other when he noticed the first spill, and having to start the whole damned fucking thing over, Ben made his way to drop on the couch next to where She sat, wet hair clinging to her pretty face.

“Heard a lot of swearing, Pretty Boy, everything ok?”

He grunted, shoving Her noodles against her chest and letting go, not giving a fuck if she had a grip on them. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Just asking a question,” he could hear her shit-eating grin. “Thought it was a free country. Thought a patriot like you would appreciate me exercising my first amendment right.”

“That protects you from the government, not me.” Ben parroted back the words She had yelled at him after he’d made the apparently fucking fatal mistake of saying “first amendment right” in her presence.

She chuckled, her voice teasing. “Didn’t know you were capable of retaining information about something other than yourself.”

“Well, your tits were looking great while you were bitching. It helped.” He grabbed the remote, raising it to the TV. “I made food. I’m picking what we watch.”

“If you pick Game of Thrones so you can watch the sex scenes again, I’m figuring out a way to kill myself and doing it on your bed.”

“Whatever gets you in my bed, Sunshine.” He winked. “And I’m invested in the fucking plot, it’s not just the sex scenes.”

“It’s mostly the sex scenes.” She said, not even flinching at his flirtation. “Just go watch porn. See how fast you can break the fleshlights. If you do all three in ten minutes, Butcher owes me twenty dollars.”

Ben scowled, not enjoying that She’d apparently been making fucking bets with Butcher about his masturbation. “I can last longer than ten fucking minutes, I’m not a fucking pussy.”

“Prove it.”

He grinned widely at Her as her face flushed adorably, her own phrasing catching up with her head. “I’d be honored, Sunshine.”

“You’re like a fucking rabbit in heat.” She muttered. “And if you do last longer than ten, Hughie gets the money, so keep that in mind when you’re jerking it to dragon boobs after I go to bed.”

“The dragons don’t have any fucking boobs, dumbass, the fucking hot lady queens do.” Ben said smugly, ignoring her eye roll. “And I would ‘jerk it’ in the privacy of my room, but someone won’t give me a fucking phone.”

“Yeah, the CIA. I’d actually back you up with Mallory, Pretty Boy. I think giving you a phone would be really entertaining.”

“I don’t need your fucking help.” He snapped, and she laughed.

“Can’t rely on just a handsome face to convince her that you somehow deserve the internet.”

“Handsome face?” He grinned at her, and only the slight stutter of her heart told Ben she heard him.

She made a mock face of thought. “Maybe if we suggested parental controls…”

“I’ll kill you, bitch.”

“I’ll make you the most useless and sad eunuch to ever grace this sorry planet, cunt.”

Ben glared at Her, and she reached over his arm to press play on the remote.

Most of the days since the failed Sister Sage mission had been like this. She and Ben got up, trained, ate, trained more, and then watched TV with dinner until She retreated to her room and Ben fought sleep for the rest of the night, alone. Neither of them mentioned how he’d saved her, or how She had started a habit of slapping Ben awake—he was pretty fucking certain that at this point she had figured out another way to break through the nightmares but was purposely choosing to fucking hit him instead—before she’d sit next to him for an hour or two after. Ben liked this unspoken arrangement, and liked even more how She had silently agreed to it. Just because he didn’t actively hate Her right now didn’t mean he was about become a sniveling pussy mess about feelings. Even if the lack of active hatred had morphed into something pulsing in his chest that he didn’t understand, and didn't fucking want to. Making Her instant noodles and not killing her when she lied to him for fun or called him “Pretty Boy” was as far as Ben would bend.

It had been mostly radio silence from the Boys, though Butcher and Cocksucker had visited two days after they’d dropped Her and Ben back at the safe house, as Cocksucker had managed to break his arm. There had been a long, incredibly boring and poorly told story as to how the injury had occurred, involving a supe, Nikola Tesla and something called a Cybertruck, but Ben had pretty much tuned out the entire fucking conversation once he realized they weren’t here for him at all. The only thing that had kept him from retreating to his room for the duration of the visit was the small falter in Her heart when she touched Cocksucker, her jaw clenched as Ben and Butcher watched Cocksucker’s arm heal into place in a fucking disgusting manner.

When She’d let go, she’d given Ben a weird fucking look with tight lips and sad eyes that he'd only seen before on Cocksucker. It had passed quickly, her face returning to apathetic and bored, her eyes regaining the sharp amusement they usually held, but fuck it had confused him. She and Butcher had started talking about missions and planning and other mind-numbing shit, Cocksucker shaking out his arm as if he didn’t trust that it was healed, and Ben had needed to piss and gone to do just that. Before he’d left, he’d caught Her a look of where the hell are you’d going, he’d grinned back with a wink of why, you want to join me?, and she’d rolled her eyes and returned her attention to Butcher. When he’d returned, Butcher and Cocksucker had left and She was glaring at him, arms across her chest.

“Are you an idiot, or just a dick?” She’d snapped.

He’d frowned at Her, trying to figure out what had made her all fucking bitchy. As far as Ben was concerned, he’d been fucking amazing, only calling Butcher a pussy twice and managing to refrain from talking to Cocksucker at all. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Butcher told me we’re moving on operation Quick and Bald soon. He told me you knew. Why didn’t you fucking tell me?!”

“Oh,” Ben had rolled his eyes. “I forgot.”

“You forgot?”

He’d shrugged. “Well, you fucking know now, so get over it. And what kind of fucking shit codename is Quick and Bald?”

“Fuck you, it’s an accurate and descriptive name.”

“How the fuck could that be ‘accurate and descriptive’?”

“Because two key factors of this phase of my plan are the quick and the bald.”

“Your plan?”

“Yeah, my fucking plan. That I fucking deserved to know the status of.” She’d scowled. “Butcher says it’s almost ready. He’ll get us in two days once it’s in place.”

That had been five days ago. Starlight and Cocksucker had dropped in after two days, full of apologies and updates that Ben didn’t give a fuck about, and when he’d asked Her for more information about the plan, she’d told him to “suck her dick and shove his questions up his ass until they reached his brain.”

So Ben still had no fucking clue what Quick and Bald was about.

Aside from Her lingering anger at him for apparently having the fucking nerve to ask questions about the jobs he had to do—an opinion he had made the mistake of voicing, leading the unwelcome lesson on the first amendment—She was being impossibly easy to talk to, and Ben was getting dangerously close to not only enjoying her company, but finding her comfortable. Part of him was hoping she’d say something very, very soon that would allow him to grip onto hatred, or at least indifference, for the rest of his time in this stupid fucking situation.

Instead, in a way that made Ben think God himself was out to fucking get him, he’d started to tell her things. Fucking voluntarily.

One of those nights where sleep had gripped his head and pulled him under, struggling and roaring, he’d woken up once more from only the force and sting of her hand across his face. She’d sat next to him again, and he’d asked her more questions about before, all of which she’d answered with a faraway, insufferably sad look in her eyes.

“How many siblings did you fucking have again?” He’d pressed once.

“Four,” She’d responded, a wistful smile on her face. “Two brothers, two sisters. All younger.”

“Your parents had four more kids after you? What, were you that fucking annoying they needed to try again four fucking times?”

“No, I was just so adorable they needed to try and recreate my perfection. Once they realized that was impossible, they gave up.” She’d smirked, and Ben hated that somehow he didn’t doubt her words. “Well,” she’d mused to herself. “That and they fell violently out of love with each other.”

“Violently?” He’d made a face, and she’d nodded solemnly.

“I shielded my siblings from a lot of flying plates.”

Ben found another thing to hate. Her parents, and how fucking sad she looked. “You miss them?”

“My parents?” She’d snorted. “I miss my dad. I hope my mom gets her head popped.”

He’d coughed to cover a laugh. “No, you fucking smartass. Your siblings.”

Her answer was quick and soft. “Every fucking day.”

Ben had grunted, watching the distance return to her face, and before he could stop himself, he was talking. “I didn’t have any siblings.”

Before he could curse himself out and try to distract Her with something else, she had been looking back at him with wide, focused eyes. “Do you wish you did?”

“I never thought about it,” he’d muttered. “My father was such a fucking dick I’m surprised he even got my mother to marry him, let alone fucking have one kid. I think he hated me enough to never fucking risk it again.”

“Risk it?” She’d kept her voice impossibly gentle as she’d asked, and it made his skin crawl all weird.

“I was the biggest fucking regret of his life. If he could go back and stop me from happening in the first place, make my mother flush me out, he wouldn’t have fucking hesitated.”

She’d paused, and a very fucking stupid part of Ben had thought she was going to let the conversation go. Of course, he should’ve fucking known by now that She damn well wouldn’t.

“What was your mom like?”

He hadn’t fucking expected that, and it had shocked him enough to answer. “Kind. Too kind for my father, he saw it as fucking weakness and told her all the fucking time. But she was so fucking kind.” He took a heavy breath. “She was full of love, and I have no fucking clue how. It was fucking stupid, all her love, even for my piece of shit father. He’d yell at her and threaten her and mock her, but she still fucking loved him. She fucking loved everything.”

Her voice was still gentle from beside him. “Like what?”

“Animals. Cats specifically. My father had all these fucking hunting dogs he loved more than anything, certainly more than me, and the only good thing he ever fucking did was trade one to get her a cat. It was massive, fluffy and gray, and it was a fucking asshole to everyone but her. It ate like a fucking elephant, shed like a whore in summer, but she loved it so fucking much.” At this point Ben had really wished he would shut the fuck up, but he couldn’t, and he was going to have to figure out a way to blame Her for that later. “She loved art. Painting. She tried to get me to love it too, even though I could barely draw a fucking worm. But I’d try, and she’d frame all my stupid, shitty drawings and hang them around the house until my father saw them and threw them in the trash. She loved music but couldn’t carry a tune if her life fucking depended on it. They’d go to the opera because my father would donate a ton for the publicity, and she’d come back all damn giddy. I’d wait up, just because she was fucking contagious when she was that happy. Even my father felt it, enough to just go straight to bed and not kick my ass for still being awake. She was fucking smart, too. Real fucking smart. My father would joke he wished she was a man, because then her brain would be useful. She would’ve fucking jumped for joy if she saw the world now. Met a fucking woman doctor.” He paused, looking back down at Her beside him. She hadn’t looked away from him, and there was none of the pity he’d expected to see on her face. It was just open, listening intently to his words with no malice or trickery behind her eyes.

“She sounds amazing.” She’d said softly, a small smile he didn’t understand on her face. “And your dad sounds like a fucking cunt.”

Ben had chuckled in surprise. “Fucking understatement of the damn year, Sunshine. That pussy would’ve tried to pry your degree from your fucking hands.”

“Let him try, I’d burn his fucking face off and laugh while I did it.”

“What were you even going to fucking do with a PhD in archeology?" He’d asked, and she’d huffed a small laugh.

“Anthropology, Pretty Boy. But nice guess.” She corrected. “And I’m honestly not sure. I’d quite literarily only just actually received the degree before everything… changed.” She’d sighed. “I had a few job offers, but mostly in academia and business. What I wanted was to work with nonprofits to help people.”

“Help people?” He’d given her a disbelieving stare. “With a prissy fucking degree?”

“Yeah, dickwad. Help people. I was a cultural anthropologist. I specialized in the evolution of cultures and ways to combat systemic cultural oppression.”

He’d stared at Her blankly. “You’re going to have to take down the fucking fancy talk by seven, Sunshine.”

“I studied how the government and culture is mean to people on purpose, and how to make them stop being mean.” She’d said flatly.

“Oh.” He’d rolled his eyes at the dirty look she was giving him. “Oh, fuck off. It wasn’t that painful to say.”

“Yes, it was.” She’d mumbled, narrowing her eyes at him. “You’re not going to argue with me?”

“What’s there to fucking argue about?”

“I just called your beloved country an ‘oppressive system’.” She’d watched him wearily, but her heart remained steady. “Doesn’t it mar your refined American nationalism?”

“Do you fucking want me to be mad?” Ben had asked, raising his brows at her. “I can definitely find it in me, that’s not a fucking issue. But usually when we fight about this shit, you get all bitchy and don’t talk to me for way too fucking long.”

“I mean, no, I don’t want you to get mad…” She’d frowned, examining him with yet another fucking confusing look. “Does it really bother you when I ignore you?”

“No.” He’d snapped quickly. “It’s just annoying, and I don’t like having to fucking deal with it.”

She’d hummed with an amused smile on her face, and the conversation had moved on to something else. Ben had shoved down the way it had been so easy to talk about his mother with her, until it was somewhere in his gut and he didn’t have to think about the way the feeling rolled around inside him.

And he refused to even acknowledge how when She would smile now, he’d have to fight himself to not do the same.

———-

It had been a week since the Sage incident, a week since Ben had saved your life—you'd locked everything about that particular action from what you thought of it to how it made you feel somewhere deep in your chest—and you were starting to lose your mind a little bit. When Annie and Hughie had stopped by with nervous words about delays in your meticulously prepared and incredibly well-detailed plan, you’d been willing to wait another day, maybe two, before executing operation Quick and Bald. Now it had been three days, burgeoning on four, and you were worryingly close to leaving the safe house just to yell at Butcher. Ben could stay here, or follow you and help you beat Butcher up for all you cared. Which was, admittedly, worrying within itself. Especially because the whole point of operation Quick and Bald was to take preventative measures against Ben’s needless brutality.

Over a month ago, right after you’d moved into the safe house and when you had been ready to throttle Ben’s neck every waking moment—an urge that hadn’t entirely waned, but was now undercut with a weirder, stronger urge to be near him without any murderous intent—you’d spent the hours quarantined in your room perfecting your plan to get Ryan Butcher the fuck out of dodge. When they’d come to pick you and Ben up for the whole Neuman test, you’d left it in the van for Butcher to find, and had been waiting since for him to set up the dominoes so you could knock them over.

At this point, you’d be happy with not even “dominos to knock over” and just “one singular domino to throw at someone." You had begun to develop a habit of staring down the hall from the living room, trying to will someone to appear with at least a fucking update. So far this strategy was not working, and had apparently started to garner attention.

Sitting on the couch, the TV white noise in the background and noodles in your hand cold and forgotten, you felt a foreign rush of oddly tight concern run through your body. You frowned, heard your name from next to you, and turned to find that Ben had been poking your arm.

“Are you fucking alive?” He grunted, watching you with a frown.

“Literally? Yes.” You answered with a tight smile. “You have noodles on your face.”

He reached up to feel for them, not looking away from you. “What the fuck do you mean literally? How can you be fucking metaphorically alive?”

“Mind-body problem, Pretty Boy. And it’s not metaphorically, it’s philosophically.” You lean back, grinning.

“You’re a real fucking pretentious bitch sometimes.” He grumbled, still trying to find the food stuck to his beard.

“If you made me a shirt that said that, I’d wear it.”

“I’m not going to fucking make you a shirt, Sunshine. You couldn’t make me learn to fucking sow with a gun to my head.”

“Because the gun wouldn’t affect you at all?” You pointed to your own chin, mirroring where the noodle was caught.

He sneered. “Because I’m not a pussy.” His hand found the stray piece of his dinner, and he pulled it from his jaw.

“Big words from the man who took two tries to make me instant ramen- hey!” A wet noodle hits you in the face.

“Ramen your ungrateful ass didn’t even fucking eat.” Ben gave a pointed look at the abandoned cup in your hands, the food inside having long lost any heat. “Don’t fucking test me, or I’ll actually spit in your food next time.”

“Drama queen,” you muttered, peeking back at the door. “Like you don’t already do that.”

“I fight the urge to be a fucking bitch, unlike certain women.”

You nod absentmindedly. “Butcher.”

Ben snorted behind you, and a smile you hoped he didn’t see crept onto your face.

“Yeah, sure Sunshine.” His attention returned to the TV, and you did your best to not stare down the hall, trying to ignore the hope that the door now shrouded in darkness would open.

A successful effort that made you jump out of your seat when it did just that with an aggressive bang.

Ben was faster than you, practically launching himself over the sofa and bolting down the hall, a dangerous look of alarm the last thing you saw on his face before he was gone from the room.

“Shit, no! It’s me!” You heard a high-pitched shout from the shadows of the entrance. “It’s Hughie!”

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” You heard Ben’s growl of a response.

Butcher’s voice drawled from the shadows. “Oi, take a deep fucking breath and put the bloody kid down.”

“Someone fucking answer me first.”

“Put him down, Soldier Boy, before we knock your ancient ass the fuck out.” The impatient, clipped words of MM responded, almost drowned out by Frenchie's shout.

“Can someone turn on the fucking lights? It is as dark as Monsieur Butcher’s heart and asshole!”

“I- I don’t feel good.” Hughie’s voice stuttered.

“Ben!” You flicked on the hallway sconces, illuminating a scene of Ben’s full body weight pressing Hughie to the wall, Butcher and MM trying with practically negative success to pry him off, and Kimiko gripping one of Frenchie’s arms as his other groped around for direction. You let out a very long, very loud sigh. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“It’s fucking late,” he snapped, not letting Hughie go. “They shouldn’t be here so fucking late.”

“This ain’t your real house, Mate.” Butcher grunted, still trying to move Ben. “We can be here whenever we bloody well please.”

Hughie wheezed out your name in a pleading tone. “Your plan is ready. We’re here to- fuck- we’re here to get you.”

That got you moving, crossing to the end of the hall in quick, frantic steps. “It’s ready? Are you sure?” Hughie gave a weak nod, and you rolled your eyes, shoving Ben shoulder. “Put him down, dumbass. He’s not a threat, and honestly, probably the worst one to have gone after. Just, like, strategically.”

Ben glared at you, but let go. He glanced at where MM and Butcher were still grabbing him, and gave them a venomous look that got them both to let go and take hasty steps back. He shot a glowering look of they could’ve fucking waited until the morning in your direction.

You wrinkled your nose at him. No. Shut the fuck up. You turned to Hughie, not even bothering to hide the desperation you felt in your imploring stare. “It’s all ready? All of it? A-Train agreed to help? We’re sure Ashley has the information? We’re sure neither one is going to tell Homelander, and we’re not about to walk into a fucking trap?”

“Yes, yes, yes, kind of, and yes.” Butcher counted off on his fingers as he answered. “But we’ve got to go right fucking now.”

“Kind of?” Anxious energy rushed through you—that still-strange feeling lighting under your skin—and you ignored the weird look Ben shot you as it did. “What do you mean, kind of? If you fucked this up, Butcher, I swear to God-"

“Calm the fuck down, Love.” Butcher snapped. “It’s going to be fine, we’ll explain on the way. But we need to go fucking now if you want this to work.”

You gave a sharp nod, starting to pull on your boot, glancing up with a pause when you heard Hughie say your name behind you.

“Do you, uh, do you want to get dressed first?” His voice was still slightly weak as he recovered from Ben’s force.

You glanced down at your body, and decided that the oversized shirt and cloth shorts would be fine. They were from the CIA spring fire-proof collection, and that was more than enough. “Nope. Let’s fucking move.”

You were halfway to the door when a crash sounded behind you, and you whirled around to see MM firmly blocking Ben’s path, the crash seeming to have been Hughie stumbling into the wall in an attempt to get away from the standoff.

“You’re not coming, Soldier Boy. This is a goddamn delicate operation, and you’re the fucking reason we have to do it in the first place. We can’t afford you throwing a tantrum and screwing us.”

“I’m fucking coming, and it’s not up for fucking debate.”

Off to the side, Frenchie snickered as Kimiko signed how many times do you think he’s said that before?

Ben shot them an annoyed look, his fists clenching. “What’s so fucking funny?”

“Nothing,” Frenchie snickered, and his tone was so remarkably unconvincing that even if you hadn’t understood Kimiko, you wouldn’t have believed him.

Ben grunted and tried to move past MM, again to no avail.

He glared down at the firmly planted man, a familiar violent glint in his eyes. “You better fucking move now, before I make you.”

“Do your fucking worst, we’ll put you right back in the box. You’re not coming with us.”

“MM,” you said firmly, watching Ben's fists clench as the dangerous glint returns to his eyes. “We need to go.”

MM looks back at you, but remains in his place. “Are you fucking serious? You’re siding with him?”

“I’m not siding with him.” You keep your voice level, ignoring Ben’s smug face and grin. “We can’t leave him. The I go where he goes thing unfortunately goes both ways.”

“The safe house will hold him for five hours.” MM pushed, and before you could even shake your head, Ben cut in.=

"No, it won’t.”

You shoot him a look that says you’re being unhelpful, and he just returns it with his own of fuck off, you know you fucking want me there.

“Please, MM. He’ll stay quiet in the background, or I’ll burn his dick off. Right?” You direct your last words at Ben, giving him a pointed agree with me or I’m knocking you out and leaving you here look.

“Yeah, whatever. But I’m not staying in the fucking van like a pussy. And you’d better explain what the fuck is happening on the way, Sunshine.”

“Deal. But first they,” You narrowed your eyes at Butcher. “Have some explaining of their own to do.”

“Don’t lose your bloody mind, Love, it’s all in order.” Butcher said breezily, shoving past you to open the door. He gave a dramatic wave of his arm for you to exit, and with a look of doubt, you did.

The car ride was already poised to be uncomfortable. Butcher’s car was not equipped for seven people, let alone seven people where three were very large men, three were supes, and nobody wanted to have physical contact with two. As such, Butcher drove, MM sat in the front, you found yourself squished against one window with Ben between you and a remarkably uncomfortable Hughie, as Kimiko sat, slightly elevated onto their laps, between Frenchie at the other window, and Hughie. It was overall an unideal situation, made worse as your own frustration was amplified by Ben’s, and by Hughie revealing that it was, in fact, not all in order.

Your phase one, the original operation Quick and Bald had called for Ashley Barrett’s complete cooperation. You’d even painstakingly outlined all the potential ways to flip her—most involving something along the lines of hey, wouldn’t a job that didn’t make you so stressed you rip out all your hair and have to buy a bunch of wigs be nice?—and different ways to keep Homelander from finding out about her betrayal—Spain was lovely this time of year, and had a thriving BDSM community Ashley would love. While MM had managed to take care of your instructions for A-Train, the half of the plan you’d incorrectly anticipated to be more difficult, the Ashley situation was, in Butcher’s words, very fucking delicate, but we’ve adapted and everything will be bloody fine, so trust me and don’t be a fucking cunt about it.

You did not trust him. I didn’t help that you’d asked for any other possible details, and he’d pretended he couldn’t hear you. This suspicion was confirmed when, despite your incredible clarity that you would never step foot there again, Butcher seemed to be driving right to Vought Tower.

Your eyes had been steadily widening, panic starting to run through you the closer and closer you got, and you flinched when you felt Ben’s roughly shoulder nudge your own.

“What’s fucking wrong with you?” He’d asked in a low voice, barely audible over Hughie’s rambling explanation.

“You should listen,” you mutter back, trying to shut out the confusing concern he always seemed to feel at you, how it felt remarkably genuine, but was laced with anger that felt like it was trying to push out of your body. “Hughie’s explaining the plan.”

“Yeah, but all I have to fucking do is stay quiet, and I get to keep my dick. You’re being fucking twitchy and silent, and your heart is beating faster than it has all damn day, so don’t even try to fucking lie and tell me it’s fine.”

“It is fine, I’m fine-“ You paused as his words sank in. “Wait, what do you mean my heart-“

“Alright, here we go.” Butcher cut off both you and Hughie with a clap of his hands. “Everyone bloody out, let’s get this shitshow on the road.”

“Butcher,” you said, looking around to see you’d parked directly across from the tower entrance. “What the fuck are we doing here?”

“We’re meeting them right there.” MM answered for Butcher, pointing out of his window to something you couldn’t see. “It’s almost midnight, and Annie’s been making sure nobody gets inside but us.”

“But why?” You protest, even as MM leaves the car. “This,” you give a wide, general wave that hits Ben in the nose. “Cannot be the only option.”

“Both of them still have their trackers,” Hughie leans forward with an apologetic look as Frenchie and Kimiko exit the car. “This will look like they’re just getting a midnight snack, and hopefully Homelander won’t get suspicious.”

“Hopefully?!” You feel a rush of anger—not yours—and a twist of fear deep within your gut—absolutely yours. “Hopefully fucking Homelander won’t get suspicious?!”

Hughie gave an uncertain nod before very quickly scrambling to get out of the car. You take a long, deep breath, trying to steel yourself. A rush of what was becoming a familiar fuming and brittle concern ran through you. You look at Ben, to find his eyes locked firmly onto yours.

“Sorry about hitting-“

“I know how to hot-wire a car.”

You blink at him, taken aback by the firmness of his voice. “What?”

His hand moved to grip your thigh, his gaze not wavering. “I know how to hot-wire a car.”

You give him a flat look. “Yeah, I heard you the first time. Why are you telling me that?”

His frustration leaked into you. “Because say the word, I’ll steal Butcher’s car, and we’ll fucking leave.”

“What? Are you insane?”

“You look like you’re either going to start fucking crying or burst into flames, and this is a stupid fucking idea.”

“This was my plan.” You snap. “And I’m not stealing Butcher’s car. Why do you even know how to hot-wire a car anyway?”

Ben’s grip tightened. “No, your plan was stupidly well fucking thought out.”

“That’s an oxymoron.” You mutter, and he ignores you.

“And even if they haven’t completely fucking blown the execution, they completely squashed any chance of safety.”

“It’ll be fine,” you say, the words sounding fake even as you say them. “It’s late. He’s probably asleep.”

“What if he’s not?” His concern was starting to move to your throat, and there was something else, something sitting far deeper in your chest, beating and beating against you. Against you.

“Ben.” You place your hand over his. “I’ve worked too hard on this. This is the only way, and it will be fine.” You say the last words firmly and clearly, trying to make them sink into you. “Now take your fucking hand off of me, and get out of the damn car.”

He pulls himself from you, and even as his touch leaves, the concern and beat linger until he’s gone from the car. You drag yourself across the seats and ignore Hughie’s offer of a hand as you duck out of the car and onto the curb. You notice the 24 hour diner MM must have been pointing out almost immediately, half because—aside from an incredibly sketchy looking deli a few doors down—it’s the only building with its lights still on, and half because two very flustered teenagers are sulking away from the entrance, where Annie stands with her arms crossed. She’s already spotted your group, and has angeled her head in a signal to join her.

“You’re late.” She chides as you approach.

“Well, Starlight, I’d apologize, but it was those two fuckheads,” Ben and MM both receive a jabbed thumb over Butcher’s shoulder. “Who decided to draw out the bloody carpool process.”

“I told you not to call me Starlight anymore, Butcher.” Annie snaps, not giving him a chance to respond before she turns to you. “A-Train is, somehow, running behind as well. Hopefully Ashley’s just being resistant to getting food with him, but they’ll be here.”

“Isn’t running that pussy’s whole fucking thing?” Ben muttered, quiet enough for only you to hear. You step as hard as you can on his foot.

“Shut it, Pretty Boy.” You whisper over his grunt of what probably is more emotional pain than physical.

“Bitch.” He hisses back.

“Cunt.” You raise your voice so the others can hear you. “We should go inside, it’s risky to just… stand here.”

With nervous looks around and stuttered agreements, you all make your way into the diner. The lights are flickering, and it’s eerily empty with only a very nervous-looking blonde waitress at the counter. She makes a very big show of asking how many are in your party, leading you to a large, round table, and laying out the menus with shaky hands. Kimiko, Hughie, Annie, and MM try and offer her comforting smiles, though MM’s is strained as he keeps a vigilant glare on Ben. The waitress is staring at Ben herself, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, glacing back as she leaves to get your and Butcher’s coffee, Annie and MM’s tea, Kimiko and Hughie’s milkshakes, and Ben and Frenchie’s orders of “the strongest alcohol you’ve fucking got.” Your personal bet was it was going to just be very old beer.

“Why is she fucking staring at me?” Ben muttered to you, watching the waitress as she walked away. “Did you fuck up my beard that bad?”

“Your beard looks literally the same.” You dismiss. “And it’s because, as far as the public knows, Maeve killed you in a heroic act of self-sacrifice to stop your evil, anti-American attacks. That, or she wants to fuck you.”

“Hm,” he looks back at you, settling down into his seat. “Am I allowed to bring guests into the safe house?”

“No.” You say, a little more curtly than you intended. Seeing his wide, cocky grin, you clairfy. “It’s a breach of security. She would need to pass a CIA vetting and be approved by, like, twenty people. I don’t think she’d do that just to fuck you.”

Ben shrugs, his smirk only growing. “You did.”

“I’m going to cut off your balls and feed them to you-“

“Hey,” MM cuts you off, saying your name in a brisk, hard tone from across the table. “They’re here.”

You snap your head to the door, where A-Train is practically pushing Ashley into the diner.

You hear her voice clearly over the recession pop humming from the speakers. “Why can’t we just go to the fucking deli? They make these amazing meatball subs and supes eat free, so you could order for both of us- oh fuck no.”

“Oh, shit.” MM mutters, jumping to his feet with Butcher and Annie as Ashley notices them, and promptly tries to dash for the exit.

You don’t entirely blame her. You’d probably do the same. You had done the same, an unhelpful voice reminds you.

“I- Am- Not-“ Ashley is trying to get past A-Train, who hasn’t given up trying to herd her further into the diner. “Fuck- this-“

“Ashley, just listen to them, I fucking swear-“

“Why should I trust you?!” Ashley doubles over, out of breath. “You fucking tricked me! Midnight snack my fucking ass- Fuck no!” She raises a crooked finger at Annie, who has stopped in front of her. “Get the fuck away from me, you bitch.”

“Ashley, please listen to A-Train-“

“No! Just leave me the fuck alone! I don’t want to be a part of your weird fucking eye for an eye justice shit-“

“You kind of already are.” MM says as he locks the door behind her. “You work for Vought, your it’s motherfucking CEO. That makes you a part of this, like it or not.”

“Not!” Ashley shouts. “I don’t care what you have to say! Homelander’s going to fucking kill me, oh my god.” She starts to hyperventilate. “If he finds out I was here, he’ll kill you-“ She points a shaky finger at A-Train. “And then make me go on fucking TV to explain why you’re missing, and then fucking kill me-“

Butcher scoffs. “Bloody hell, lady. Calm the fuck down, Homelander ain’t gonna find out.”

“You don’t know that!” She shrieked. “He knows fucking everything! Especially since fucking Sage joined!” She spins around frantically, and her wild eyes lock onto yours. “He knows about them!” A shaking finger jumps between you and Ben. “Fuck! He’s supposed to be fucking asleep and now he’s fucking not! And he was so fucking angry about her, I’ve never seen him so fucking angry-“

Whatever else Ashley stutters about Homelander’s anger is lost to you as the world freezes. The feeling isn’t just under your skin, it’s up your spine, in your blood, circling around your brain. It’s fucking everywhere and you can’t fucking breathe, her words looping around you.

He knows. He’s angry. He fucking knows. He’s fucking angry. He fucking knows and he’s fucking angry and he fucking knows and he’s fucking angry and-

A white hot, impossibly calm feeling crashes over you. It’s angry, hungry and angry, but it’s grounding, sharpening everything around you. Suddenly the world is back in complete focus, Ashley’s shrill rambling scraping at your ears, and in the distance that weird fucking rhythm is sounding. As the feeling in your body returns fully, you realize Ben’s hand is back on your thigh. You bounce it, looking up to give him a glare, and find he’s not even looking at you. Instead, his eyes are trained on Ashley, narrowed and cold. You give a small cough, and when he glances down at you, the feeling of anger stutters with something lighter, though only for a second.

You give another bounce of your leg, a look of move your damn hand or lose it taking over your face.

No, not until you calm the fuck down his scowl responds.

You huff, standing abruptly, and his hand falls off at the force of your movement. Suddenly you feel a lot less solid, but reason that your legs are shaky from the Homelander of it all, and if any situation calls for fractured nerves, it’s this one.

“Ashley.” You call across the diner, trying not to stutter or chew off your lip as her protests falters and attention turns to you. “If you know who I am, you know I wouldn’t be anywhere near here if we weren’t certain it was safe. Just have some food with us, listen, and then you can go.”

Ashley gives you a scowl that might surpass Ben’s but nods tightly, yanking her arm from where A-Train had been trying to hold her in place. You sit back down as the group at the door returns to their seats, the poor waitress pressing herself against the bar as they pass. Letting out a shaky, unsteady breath, you try and still yourself as you look out the diner window. City lights. Music.

City lights.

Music.

It was safe. He knows and he’s angry but was safe and there were city lights and music.

Your breathing was no longer coming in short, distressed bursts, but getting air in and out of yourself still felt like an act of labor, and you needed to get it the fuck together before Ashley sat down.

City lights. Music.

You can’t hear the song the diner is playing, instead letting your whole mind turn inward, allowing the ghost of music you can no longer sing to wash over you.

Ashley sits across from you right when you regain control, and from the corner of your eye, you see Ben pulling his hand from where it had been inching towards yours.

Her eyes flit, nerves poorly hidden, from you to Ben to Butcher to Annie and back to you, and her voice is high and shaky when she speaks. “Well?”

“Ashley, we need your help.” Annie leans forward, palms flat on the table.

“Well, then we’re done. I can’t help you. They don’t tell me anything, not really.” Ashley tries to stand, but her arm is caught by A-Train. “Really?” A-Train hisses as he pulls her back into her seat beside him. “They don’t tell you anything my ass, we sit in on all the same meetings. And I pulled these files-“ He pulls out a thumb drive from absolutely nowhere and drops it on the table. “Using your name, so you clearly have access to them.”

“What?!” Ashley looks at the thumb drive like it’s going to either explode or start jizzing on her blouse. “Why would you fucking do that?”

“Insurance.” A-Train answers smugly, the thumbdrive clearly having his intended. “I can’t open it, so you’re going to tell them how, and then I’ll erase the records of you taking the files from the system.”

Ashley looks around at your group, shaking her head. “No.”

“Sorry, Mate. We ain’t really asking.” Butcher leans across A-Train, shoving the thumb drive closer to Ashley. “Do us this solid, and A-Train won’t go right up to Homelander and tell him about how he saw you also cuddly and tight with me, Soldier Boy, and his favorite missing person.”

Your heart jumps right into your throat. City lights. Music.

Suddenly, Ben’s elbow is planted against yours, and you’re pulled back down to earth just in time to hear Ashley yell, “This is fucking blackmail! I’ll fucking sue!”

“You cannot sue government officials, madame.” Frenchie says smugly, and Hughie shakes his head.

“That’s- Frenchie, that’s not even kind of true.”

“You’re also not a government official.” Annie adds.

Frenchie looks genuinely perplexed at this and gives Kimiko a confused frown, receiving a shrug in return.

“But,” you pipe up, your voice somehow bored and casual. “I’m legally dead. He’s-“ You jab Ben in the chest, and Ashley’s eyes widen. “Legally dead and an enemy of the state. You can’t sue either of us, not without admitting some Vought secrets that will be very bad PR.” You give her a twisted smile, leering across the table. “Help us, or, even if Homelander believes you, which we both know he won’t, you’ll get fired. And I’m sure they’ll be very understanding and normal about how they do it.”

You feel a flash of weird pride and realize you can see Ben fighting a smile in your periphery.

Ashley has a fearful expression, looking at where your elbow is still connected with Ben’s. “What- what's even on it?”

“Becca Butcher files.” You say, not taking your gaze from her, but you didn’t need to look around to see the sudden, rigidness with which everyone sat. You even felt Ben’s own shock run through you.

You’d be lying if you said hiding the exact contents of the file hadn’t been a very purposeful choice that you and Butcher had made. He’d cornered you, demanding to know what you planned on doing should Soldier Boy go after Ryan, and you’d told him that it wouldn’t be an issue. Ryan looked up to Homelander, that was why he stayed. He’d lost his mother, he didn’t trust Butcher, all the poor kid had was his insane, sociopathic father. Some part of you—small and sad and tired, still sitting on a staircase in Boston—understood that. But with Becca gone, gone forever, Ryan didn’t have a place to run like you’d had. Homelander was the default, and just kind enough to his son that Ryan could force himself to forgive Homelander again and again. Homelander was safe for Ryan.

You were going to make sure Ryan never saw Homelander as safe again. And that started with Becca Butcher and would end with you. So you and Butcher had agreed with a tight handshaked that he'd ripped his hand from right after, everyone was only going to know what they needed to. That was the only way it would work.

“Becca Butcher files?” MM repeats in a slow, incredulous tone. “You,” he turns with a look of shock to Butcher. “You knew about this? You’re fuckin okay with this?”

“I’m doing what has to be done, Mate.” Butcher answers flatly, then says your name. “Tell ‘em the plan, Love.”

“We need to get Ryan away from Homelander. Ryan needs to know about his mother.”

“No,” Ashley was emerging from the shock to try and stand from the table, but A-Train’s arm shot out, pulling her back down once more. “No,” she says again, looking around desperately. “Ryan, Ryan is all he has. All he cares about. You take Ryan he’ll lose his mind-“

“He’s already lost his mind.” Something snaps in your chest—a cruel feeling waking up as you watch Ashley fret about Homelander. “And I couldn’t give less fucks about what he cares about.” The feeling is crawling across your skin. “If this hurts him, good. It could never hurt him enough to make it right.” You hear drums and still can’t place where they’re coming from. “Now listen to the last fucking strand of your morality on your scalp and fucking help us.”

Ashley shakes her head again, this time with less certainty. “It’s- no- He-“ she pulls in a deep, unsteady breath. “He won’t stop until he gets Ryan back. He already is going insane about you and him and how he needs to get you back safe and put him back down, and if Ryan goes to then nothing will stop him-“

The drums are loud now, and something that’s usually there on Ben’s face is missing. Your own body doesn’t feel entirely normal anymore, but it’s not paralyzed or running. You can feel something in Ben caving, falling inward in a growing rhythm, moving in time as something in you grows. It's not in you now, it’s across you, coating your skin and singing with glee.

“Ashley,” the sound of your voice is a little far away, but you can hear it echo through you. It’s wired, hot, a warning.

“I- I can’t.”

“Yes, you fucking can.” You sneer. “You’re just too much of a pussy to do it.” Ben coughs in the way that you know means he wants to laugh, just as the drums stutter and move farther away.

“Please, I don’t-“

“Do not make me stab you.”

Ashley falters, looking you up and down. “You won’t.”

“Trust me, she will.” Ben smirks, giving you a nudge. “She’s surprisingly violent.”

“I, I won’t. I can’t. He’ll kill me-“

“You think we won’t?” Ben growls, any amusement in him gone as you feel something unbreakable and resolved through your body.

Ashley tries to run again, this time actually managing to get up from the table, but is knocked flat on her ass by A-Train before she can take two steps. You stand and give the itch, now under your tongue and your nails, a small scratch.

“Oh, fuck no.” You hear scrambling as you walk around the table and stop, staring down at Ashley.

She’s crawling back from you, back from the fire curling from your whole body, and disgust curls in your gut. For the first time you feel anger—insatiable and gory anger—all of your own. No city lights flash around you, no hollow music dances around your head. You don’t fear Ashley. She’s weak and spineless. She’s willing to cover her hands in Ryan’s blood, in your blood, to keep herself safe from Homelander. She’s staring at you, terrified, and you don’t need to touch her to know it isn’t even a fraction of all the fear you felt in that white room. That white room she knows about, may have seen, and is still trying to keep Homelander happy.

You bend down, letting all your hatred for Vought, for her, cover your features. When you speak, your words are clear and low.

“You are going to tell Butcher how to access the thumbdrive. A-Train and you are going to take some food with you, and walk back to the tower. You aren’t going to tell Homelander about this, and if he asks, offer him some leftovers. A-Train will erase your activity from the files, and you’re going to pretend the whole night never happened. If you tell Homelander about either me or Be-“ You correct yourself smoothly. “Soldier Boy, the last thing I will do before he locks me away again is kill you. Do I make myself clear?”

Ashley nods frantically, flinching when you raise your hand.

“Say it. Say that I made myself clear.”

“You-“ Ashley stutters, hiccuping. “You made yourself clear.”

You draw yourself back up. “Good. Butcher, I’m leaving. You can drive me and come back, or Ben can steal your car, but I’m leaving.”

When you turn, when you see the looks on your team’s face, all the anger is gone, and suddenly there is a crushing, painful weight of shame on your chest. They’re looking at you like Ashley had been, like you’re no better than Homelander. Like maybe you should go back in the room, it would be safer for them, it would be safer for everyone if you were far, far away-

“You heard the lady.” Ben is standing, walking around to your side. “It’s late. We’re leaving. Sunshine?” He offers you his arm, and you stare between it and your own, still covered in flame. Looking up, his face looks bored, as if this is just another Tuesday, and he offers his arm to women who are actively ablaze on a regular basis.

Your face feels slack, and all you can manage is to blink at him. I’ll burn you, Pretty Boy. It’ll hurt.

His brows subtly knit, and he doesn’t move. I’ll live, Sunshine. Don’t let them see you break. We’re going home.

You look back at your team, a wide circle of berth having formed around you and Ben. Butcher is looking between the two of you, and you recognize that glint in his eyes. You’d seen it before, but it’s only been really, truly directed at you once. In a graveyard in Boston, gravestones and bushes around you burning in the dead of winter, holding a bucket of ice that steamed off your skin. Under it, fear begins to creep back into you, exhaustion pushing it forward. Butcher reaches behind him, and your knees feel weak.

But you don’t fall. Zealous anger, strong and raw, spreads through you and Butcher’s movements still. You look down and find Ben’s arm unflinchingly looped through yours, his body at its full height as his eyes rake coldly over Butcher.

The silence hangs in the air, cut through only by Ashley’s quick, sobbed breaths. For a second you think the smoke seeping from you will overtake the room before anyone moves, but Butcher slowly reaches into his pockets, eyes not leaving Ben’s, and throws the keys at Hughie.

“Drop them off, Mate, then come right back. No bloody detours.”

Hughie stares at the keys, looking like he’s going to protest, but Kimiko grabs them before he can.

She turns to you, completely composed, no fear wavering as she locks your eyes with hers. I’ll take you.

Before you can thank her, Frenchie steps forward, signing as he speaks. “Mon Coeur, you cannot drive.”

She frowns. Yes I can.

“No, Mon Coeur, not legally.” Frenchie says, exasperated, and you have a feeling this is not first time they've had this debate.

Kimiko rolls her eyes at you. Fine. She signs back at Frenchie, throwing the keys at him. You’ll do it.

Frenchie stumbles as he catches them, giving Kimiko a shocked look, which she pretends not to see as she walks to the door, signing at you as she passes.

Let’s go before Butcher’s brain starts working.

A small smile threatens your face, and you move, tugging Ben’s arm only once before he falls into pace with you, Frenchie scrambling behind you both.

The car ride back feels longer. The moment you’d stepped out of the diner, your body had extinguished, and you had a worrying sense that the only thing keeping you from collapsing on the sidewalk was Ben’s arm firm through yours. No words were said for the entirety of the drive, you and Ben in the backseat as Frenchie drove and Kimiko lounged in shotgun, and your brain raced. Ben hadn’t let go, and the drums were fading in and out of your chest as he stared ahead into the night.

You arrived at the safe house, only a street lamp casting a dull glow across the street. The chill of the wind cutting against you as Kimiko walked you to the door, Frenchie mumbling something about keeping the car safe from Hooligans. Ben made to step inside, but halted, still not releasing your arm, as you stayed at the doorstep.

At his questioning glare, you tried to wiggle his arm from yours. “Go inside, Ben. I’ll be right there.”

He looked down at where he was still connected with you, and you felt reluctance in time with the drums, but he let go with a scowl. “Be fast,” he grunted, and stomped into the house.

You watched until he’d disappeared fully down the hall, turning to Kimiko only once his back was shrouded in the darkness of the house.

“Thank you,” you give her a soft smile, signing as you speak. “I- I don’t know what happened, I just-“

She shakes her head, and you trail off. I understand. I get angry too. She pauses, hands hovering for only a second. We are not like them. She points down the street, in the direction of the tower, and then past you, into the house. We get to be angry.

“I don’t want to be angry.” You say softly. “He wins when I get angry.”

Kimiko gives you a sad look, placing a hand on your arm. Her own frustration, her fear of Homelander, all the anger at the world, sinks into you. She holds your gaze for a second before drawing back to sign once more. He doesn’t win when you’re angry. He wins when you’re scared. You’re not Soldier Boy. Your anger is good.

You glance back into the house. “I think he- Ben- Soldier Boy- is scared. Or something. His emotions are really fucking confusing.”

You let him touch you. She signs. Does he know?

“He said he didn’t care, because he’s, and I quote, ‘not a pussy with something to hide’.”

But he’s scared? She gives you a questioning frown. Do you think it’s because of Russia? Could you fix it, like you offered for me?

“I’m not sure, but-“ you’re cut off as Frenchie honks the horn, leaning out the window.

“Mon Coeur!” His odd position makes his signing almost unintelligible, which he seems to realize, and raises his voice. “Monsieur Butcher says to get back ‘like a hare with a bomb up it’s arse'.”

Kimiko rolls her eyes at you, but signs a goodbye, giving your hand a small squeeze before returning to the car. As the engine rumbles, Frenchie pulling out the driveway, Kimiko’s calm faith lingers in you, and you walk back into the house, shutting the door behind you.

Almost all the lamps and ceiling lights of the house are off, the TV glowing from where you had abandoned it several hours ago. From the bottom of the stairs, you can see the upstairs hall is washed in a soft yellow, and when you reach the top Ben’s door is open, the light from within filling the hall. You stop at the entrance to his room, his back to you as he pulls a cotton shirt over his head.

You let out a small cough in a weak attempt to alert him to your presence.

“You’re allowed to just come in, Sunshine.” He grunts, still facing away. “I’m not a shy little virgin you need to pussyfoot around.”

You let out a small hum, walking over the threshold and stopping a few feet behind him. “Thank you.” You say softly, and he turns around to look at you.

His eyes are tired. Pained. Something looks like it’s pulling at him and it scares you. You’ve seen that expression before, when you’d woken him up that first day, at the Neuman mission, when you pulled him from nightmares with sharp hits, but never just there. It was always with something. This was like an island, just him and you, nothing pulling it out of him.

“Don’t thank me.” He says gruffly. Even his voice is drained. “You mostly held your own.”

“But-“

“And stop feeling bad about that Ashley bitch. She fucking deserved it.”

You stare at him. “You really believe that?”

He lets out a hollow laugh. “She was fucking pathetic. A fucking pussy. Fucking eating out Homelander’s fucking hand, brown-nosing him until he fucking cums and pays her, letting him take you-“ His jaw clenches. “I fucking meant it when I said we’re not going back Sunshine. I’m not a goddamn pussy liar.”

“I didn’t think you were. But, you…” Your voice fades as you try to find the words. “I could feel you. At the diner.”

“I fucking know, that was the goddamn point. I wasn’t going to let you start crying in front of those self-righteous pussies.”

“No, Ben.” You shake your head. “I could feel you. I could feel it.” You place a hand over your chest. “It was building. There was something beating against you, inside you. And you looked…” You watch him carefully. “Scared.”

“Fucking watch it.” He growls. “I don’t get fucking scared. I’m not-“

“A fucking pussy. I know.” You sigh. “I don’t want to, I can’t, fight right now. I’m so fucking tired. You can scream at me in the morning, but not right now, please.”

He stares at you, and just when you think he’s going to start yelling, he nods. “You’re…” He sounds strange. “You’re ok.”

Just like the last time he said it, the words aren’t phrased like a question. They don’t feel like a question. It feels like he’s just telling you again. But there’s something under it this time, something that makes his words almost unsure. Something that makes up your mind faster than you thought you would.

“Are you?” You ask quietly.

“Of course I fucking am.”

“Ben.” You tilt your head at him. “I’m going to tell you something, and I don’t want you to respond now.”

“You’re being fucking weird, Sunshine.”

“Please.”

He relents with a grunt. “Fucking fine. What.”

“I can fix it.” It’s so hard to keep his gaze as you speak. “It will take time, but I can fix it.”

“Fix what.” He scowls. “There’s nothing to fucking fix.”

“Your PTSD.”

“I don’t fucking have-“

“Ben, I could feel it. It’s dangerous. I could fix it.” You take a deep breath. “I can fix internal injuries as well. I offered to fix Kimiko’s muteness, but she didn’t want me to do it.”

“Then what fucking makes you think-“

“Muteness isn’t dangerous. And it would’ve been harder for me, I might have ended up mute myself. You’re dangerous like this. You can’t fucking control it, and don’t try and lie and say it’s under control. Ashley mentioned putting you back under, and you looked like someone was drowning you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Sunshine.” He leers at you. “You don’t fucking know me, know what it was like-“

“I do. You know I do.” You whisper, and the anger on his face breaks. “More than anyone else, I know. I can fix it, but you’ll have to let me. Just-“ You search his eyes, not sure what you’re looking for. “Just think about it. I won’t mention it again, I won’t even touch you, but my offer will stay on the table. Please, just think about it.”

Before you can leave, he grabs your hand. A rush of painful exhaustion runs through you, and there’s anger, but it’s not full of the fervor you’ve come to expect from him. It’s not even at you. It’s wide and almost consuming, leaving room for only a small kernel of something fragile and warm.

“I don’t care if you keep touching me, Sunshine. I've go nothing to hide from you, and that’s not going to change. But there’s nothing in me you need to fucking fix, so don’t fucking bother.”

“I’m not trying to fix you, Ben,” You murmur. "But remember, you burn, I burn. Please don't burn." Your last words are soft, and the kernel pulses.

“Good,” he grunts, releasing your arm. A small smirk crawls onto his face. “Now I don’t care if it’s here or in your room, Sunshine, but you need to go the fuck to bed. You look like shit.”

Just as he says it, the full weight of your fatigue hits you. You give a mumbled acknowledgement of his words, and try to leave the room, but all the adrenaline is gone from your system and nothing is left to stop the failure of your legs or droop of your eyes. The last thing you feel is something pulling you up before your knees hit the carpet, the last thing you see is green eyes on your own, and you hear an amused snort from above you.

“Goodnight, Sunshine. Try not to dream about me.”

You try to object, but sleep pulls you under before you can even remember why you need to.

239 notes · View notes

knyontop · 3 months ago

Note

alr so I know you said platonic bowers gang, so I have a idea, basically them w a reader who isn’t in their school — like they met reader at the arcade or smth and the gang drags them around to hang out; their all touchy w reader cause that’s pratically their baby now !!

though the gang doesn’t want reader to know of what their actually like (which are bullies) .. to protect them of course, but maybe reader ends up finding out through accidentally stumbling upon where the gang (henry) was trying to carve his name into bens stomach ? the gang sees and then runs after reader to try and explain … I’ll leave the ending up to you honestly.

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

Let me explain…

THIS IS SO SMART I LOVE IT???

Yandere!platonic!Bowers gang x reader

Ft: Henry bowers, Patrick Hocksetter, Victor Criss, Belch Huggins, Ben (I forgot his last name), and our amazing, handsome, beautiful reader.

Tw: yandere stuff, possessive behavior, patrick, violence, remember this is yandere BOWERS GANG so bewareeeee!!

Y/N ran into the arcade excited to play, they were trying to beat there high score. They were so focused on getting there they weren’t aware of there surroundings and accidentally bumped into someone. Y/N muttered out a sorry but the person grabbed there wrist, “What the hell is wrong with you?” He said turning Y/N around to face him.

Y/N is meet face to face with Henry bowers, Y/N has heard about him but never really cared to look into it. He had an angered look on his face and Y/N quickly thought of a way to diffuse the situation. “Uh, im so sorry! I really didn’t mean to..” they said looking at the ground in shame.

Henry raised an eyebrow and let go of there wrist. “Oh. Its- Its fine.” He said, after he said that his eyes widened what did he just say? He wasn’t actually letting the kid off the hook? Really? That wasn’t like him at all! Something in him just felt bad for lashing out at the kid… he didn’t know why he felt this.

Y/N perked up and then smiled “Alright then! Well buh bye.” They said before scurrying off to find there favorite arcade game.

Belch put his hand on Henrys shoulder, “What the hell was that?” He asked his friend that was now staring in shock. “I dont even fucking know.” He said before getting himself together with a huff. “What a weird kid.” He said before turning back to his friends.

“We gonna do anything about em’? Ive never seen that twerp around here.” Patrick said crossing his arms. Victor then chimed in, “Yeah I mean im pretty sure we would know them if they were around here.” Henry groaned. “Can you all shut up? Why do we care about them?” Belch then looked at the kid that was far away from them playing an arcade game. “I dont know, they seem interesting.” Belch said. There was like something drawing him towards them, it was strange feeling of wanting to protect.

Y/N was to focused on there game to notice the four teenagers staring into the back of there head, poor child not knowing what was to come.

There fate was already sealed with the bowers gang.

Y/N had officially beat there high score, they smirked and exclaimed under there breath. “Yes!” They whispered to themselfs. They were feeling pretty hungry so they were going to ask there parents if they could go eat or something.

Y/N started walking to the exit but they tripped over something, they fell onto the floor but caught themselves with there hands. They gasped and turned to see what happened, they couldn’t have just tripped on air! They say a tall boy with black hair and a mischievous grin on his face.

“Heyyyy~ I ain’t seen you around here before, you new here?” He asked staring down at the kid, there were three other boys with him including the one boy they bumped into.

Y/N awkwardly rubbing the back of there neck embarrassed, “Im not new ive been here before…” they said before a boy with blonde platinum hair spoke up. “Oh, never seen you around school ether what school you go to?” He asked with genuine curiosity.

Y/N stood up brushing themselves off and fixing there ruffled clothes. “I uh go to [school name].” Then he spoke again. “Oh.” He said looking at the kid feeling some weird attachment to them.

“Well I must get going now, uh later?” They said before trying to walk away but the boy they bumped into earlier grabbed there wrist tightly. “Do you think you can just turn your back on us? Show some respect and look at us.” He said with a glare and the kid looked surprised at his hostility.

“Oh- im sorry?” They said unsure of what was going on, Patrick noticed they obviously had no idea who they were so they might as well have fun with it.

A bigger boy walked up to Y/N, “Dont worry about Henry, hes just being a bit of a dick right now.” He said nudging Henrys shoulder to tell him to knock it off not wanting Henry to scare the them away. “Im Belch, nice to meet you.” He said holding his hand out feigning innocence as if he wasn’t one of the local bullies.

Y/N chuckled nervously and took his hand shaking it before quickly re-tracing there hand. “Uh huh.” They said before the skinnier boy with platinum hair stepped forward. “Im Victor, and behind me is Patrick sorry if he didn’t make the best first impression.” He said glancing at his tall friend annoyed.

Y/N hummed nodding there head. “Its fine, totally not going to see him in my dreams tonight.” They said sarcastically making Patricks smirk grow.

“So uhm nice to meet you guys and ta tah now!” They said making an attempt to leave again before one of them would stop them, again.

Victor quickly blurted out a “Wait!” And stepped in front of them. “Hey, we just meet. It would be a shame if you left so soon.” He said as a grin pulled at his lips. “Okay is this what were doing?” They said before Patrick took there wrist and started dragging them with the group. “Were going to have a great time kid.” He said while poor Y/N just followed after them so confused of what they were getting themselves into.

These boys were strange, but Y/N couldn’t lie they had some fun hanging out with these reckless teenagers eventually getting comfortable with them but still having this gut feeling something was wrong so they pushed down away and continued hanging with the odd boys.

How naive you are Y/N.

Y/N was walking home from school, just skipping along listening to the birds chirp and feeling a sense of peace and freedom they haven’t felt in a while soon it was all interrupted by a screams that sounded to be a boy Y/N looked around to find out where the sound was coming from and immediately started running towards it trying to play hero.

They saw the four boys they were starting to call there friends surrounding a boy a tormenting him Y/N was to stunned to speak, they felt betrayed and stupid. They should have listened to there gut feeling, what was wrong with these boys!?

Victor out of the corner of his eye saw a familiar kid with H/C hair staring at the scene in shock and he immediately stopped what he was doing to look at them.

Patrick looked at Victors face and raised an eyebrow, he was annoyed that he stopped so he turned around to see what all the fuss was about and muttered “Shit.”

Belch looked at his friends and then saw Y/N, he let go of the kid he was holding down and hit Henrys shoulder.

Henry was pissed and turned around angrily to see the familiar face of Y/N, he froze and clenched his jaw.

Patrick started to approach them with a chuckle, “Dont be so surprised, everyone tried to tell you.” He said in an almost mocking tone taunting the kid for there stupidity of trusting them.

Y/N turned on there heel and started to run out of anger and sadness, they felt tears prick in there eyes at Patricks taunt. Why were they surprised?

Henry dropped his knife and took off after Y/N before any of the boys could think, he felt sweat start to drip down his forehead. Soon the other boys followed behind leaving the kid Ben to run for it.

Henry was able to catch up to Y/N quickly, he harshly turned them around and pushed them to the ground so they couldn’t start running again. This gave him a moment to catch his breathe, Victor then stepped forward speaking up. “Look, just let- let us explain.” He said putting his hands up in surrender.

“Explain? Explain what!? That you guys are horrible people? That you guys have lied to me? What is there to explain!” Y/N snapped not even making an effort to get up.

Victor winced and Patrick yawned, “I mean, I dont know what you were expecting kid. You were just to naive.” He said with a slight laugh, Belch punched his shoulder.

“Look Y/N we were just teasing! We weren’t actually going to hurt him.” Blech said trying to defuse the situation.

“Thats not teasing, Belch! Thats bullying!” They said getting up and glaring harshly at the boys.

“Its fun! Cmon Y/N, live a little.” Patrick said smirking, Henry then spoke up. “Y/N why do you even care about him? We didn’t even do anything to you!” Henry said getting up into there face. “You lied!” They said back, backing away from him.

“Yeah well, its not our fault your so naive and gullible.” He said harshly, ouch. Y/N raised there eyebrows. “What is wrong with you!” They raised there voice, Henry gripped there chin firmly. “What? What was that Y/N?” He said daring them to say it again.

Patrick watched this go on with satisfaction, they did need to be put in there place.

Belch didn’t stop Henry because he felt this was far, they needed to learn anyway.

Victor watched feeling justified, he felt hurt by there words so this was deserved in his eyes.

“Ever raise your voice at me, ever and there will be consequences, understood?” Henry said speaking to Y/N as if they were a kid who was in trouble.

Y/N, not wanting to upset Henry any further obeyed. “Understood Henry.” They said before Henry pushed them away. “Now, are you going to stop being a brat?” He asked crossing his arms, Y/N felt frustrated at this but who were they to defy him? “Yeah.” They said gulping down the anger they felt.

“Good.” Henry smiled satisfied with there answer.

“Your never getting away Y/N.”

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

I hope you liked it! :33 i feel rly nervous about this onedibhuibhdj

#bowers gang #it movie #x reader #platonic #bowers gang x reader #yandere #platonic yandere #yandere bowers gang #platonic yandere bowers gang #henry bowers x reader #patrick hocksetter x reader #victor criss x reader #belch huggins x reader #yandere x reader #x teen reader #it x reader #it 2017

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spider-stark · 5 months ago

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notes regarding the blackwood x bracken bullshit below - definite spoilers for season 2 episode 3 below the cut, as well as screenshots from the episode

for starters - what the fuck

okay, now that we have that out of the way: I don't care if his Davos, Benjicot, or Blackwood #3 -- it needs to be discussed how terrified that Bracken boy looked to even be in his presence. from the jump, he looks noticeably off-put and by the time he draws his sword, he looks like he's shaking in his goddamn boots, ok?

additionally, you cannot tell me it's not Bloody Ben behavior for this Blackwood to quite literally decide AGAINST drawing his own weapon before approaching this boy with a GRIN ON HIS MOTHER-FUCKING FACE only for it to then cut scene and we see the Bracken laying dead on the ground with his own sword jutting out of his throat.

I mean, they made a point of showing the pommel of the Bracken's sword prior to this scene. they wanted it to be clear he was slain with his own weapon, which - as I just said - would be such textbook BLOODY FUCKING BEN BEHAVIOR.

but, then, I propose this:

I think there is a good 99.9% chance that this is our boy. I would love to say I'm banking on the 00.1% that it's not, but I'll be honest guys - I'm not hopeful in the slightest. every aspect of the outfit that can be seen is practically identical to what the Blackwood (Benji/Davos/Whatever) was wearing previously.

with that being said, I feel like this scene was poorly executed if that's the case, considering we then go to the scene of Aegon's council so soon after and make it a point to say Samwell Blackwood was slain in battle -- that would have been more impactful to me if we had just seen the aftermath of Bloody Ben and, essentially, been formally introduced to the new Lord of Raventree Hall and Head of House Blackwood.

any and all opinions/comments/theories welcome because I am dying to discuss. additionally --- what the actual fuck do we do about the fan fiction

#benjicot blackwood #benji blackwood #ben blackwood #bloody ben #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd s2 #hotd season 2

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holylulusworld · 6 months ago

Text

A birthday dream (4)

Summary: It's your birthday and your harem gets bigger...

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Soldier Boy x Reader, Jensen Ackles x Reader, Beau Arlen x Reader, Russell Shaw x Reader

Side-Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader (same reader)

Warnings: language, implied smut, mentions of smut (oral/fingering/anal), fangirling, RPF

Catch up here: Another dream (3)

Dream a little dream… masterlist

“Shit…oh fuck,” you moan loud enough to draw attention toward your bedroom. Ben, Dean, and Jensen silently sneak toward the door, huffing as you are going at it with Beau again. “Harder…yes…right there.”

“She’s fucking that cowboy cop again,” Dean grumbles. He’s not a fan of your new addition.

While you, Sam, and Beau try to find a way to send Beau back into his world, Dean and Ben try to stay in your world, with you.

“Calm down,” Jensen shrugs. “It’s a phase. He’s new, and she didn’t ride his dick as often as mine.”

“Shut up!” Dean and Ben grunt in unison. “We hate sharing our woman. If you like sharing her with another dick, it’s your problem, not ours.”

Dean and Ben flinch when the headboard of your bed slams against the wall. Your moans and your lover’s groans grow louder with every thrust of his cock.

“She’s close, huh?” Beau asks while casually walking inside the living room with Sam. “Who’s the lucky one this time?”

Jensen, Dean, and Ben turn around like in slow motion to look at Beau and Sam. They gape at the two men and furrow their brows.

“What?” Sam asks.

“What are you doing out here?” Dean cocks his head to look Beau up and down. “Shouldn’t you be in there and press orgasm after orgasm out of Y/N?”

“I’d like that, but Sam asked me to help him with the books.” Beau looks at the books in his hands. “I licked her pussy this morning, though.”

Dean’s features darken. He squares his jaw and huffs. “I made her cum in the showers this morning. The first of many birthday gifts for our girl.”

“I fingered her until she squired while actor boy ruined her cute ass,” Ben smirks at Dean. They are still at each other’s throats most of the time.

“Uh—I got cake and flowers for her,” Sam awkwardly looks at the cake and flowers in his hands. “A thank you for helping me leave the apartment.”

“You mean you fucked,” Soldier Boy cackles, but his smirk vanishes when you cry out a name they never heard before. Well, not all of them. Jensen ducks his head and averts Dean and Ben’s gaze.

“Wait…if Beau and Sam are here too…” Dean turns his head to look at Jensen, “Who’s in there fucking our girl?”

“Ahem…you see,” Jensen clears his throat. “I—I had this guest role in a series and… I’m afraid Y/N watched the episode last night and…things got out of hand…”

“You are telling me that you played another dude and now she’s fucking him?” Ben glares at Jensen. “We told you to inform us if you take a new role, Ackles.”

“Fuck, yes…Russell!” You cry out your newest lover’s name. “There…harder…fuck. You’re so thick.”

“I’m thick too,” Ben is done listening. He kicks the door open only to watch Russell slip out of your well-fucked cunt. “You!” He points at Russell. “Out of the room.”

“Dude, relax. She wanted to have some fun,” Russell smirks, looking so much like Soldier Boy in that moment. You whimper, already imagining getting double-teamed by them. “How can I deny her?”

Ben ignores Russell completely. He squares his jaw and exhales sharply. “And you!” He points at you. “Down on your knees, mouth open. You will spend your birthday filled with cock. Preferable with mine.”

“Hey, she’s not yours only!” Dean storms into the room, already tugging at his flannel. “I will join the party.”

“Me too!” Jensen stumbles inside the room.

“Oh, no!” Ben shakes his head. “You are the reason for the new guy.” He grins at Jensen. “You won’t get any for the time being.”

“Can I join?” Beau pokes his head inside the room. “Maybe just…watch or take care of her after you ruined her.”

“Mr. Cuddles his back. Great,” Dean sarcastically says. “Fine, get in here. You can have her after we are done punishing our slutty girl for dreaming of another man.”

You fake a sob. “But…but…Jensen wanted me to watch the episode. I tried so hard to focus on Colter, but Russell was right there. He looked so good, and I got…horny.”

“Look at our whore,” Ben taunts. “She can never have enough cock, huh?”

“So…if you are all done…” Russell walks back inside the room, a beer in his hands. He's still stark-naked but doesn't really care. He leans in the doorframe and sips his beer. “Can I have another round?”

“No!” All men grunt in unison.

“Newbies wait for their turn,” Sam clarifies. “You can help me with the books…” He whispers. “Wait for your chance. She gets needy after a nap…”

“Sammy,” you pout. “That’s our secret!”

Dean quirks a brow. “Ya know, Sammy. For a man pretending to not wanting to fuck Y/N you are sniffing around her pussy all the time.”

“Dean! Don’t be so… crude!”

“Sammy,” you purr. “We both know you can get very crude when we are alone.” You smirk at the former hunter. “How about you all come inside, close the door and we celebrate my birthday the best way possible…”

“Fuck…yes…” They all say in unison. All men will be a lot to handle, but you will be damned if you don’t take the chance and have a piece of all of them.

It’s your birthday after all…

Tags in reblog.

#dean winchester #beau arlen #soldier boy #jensen ackles #russell shaw #dean winchester x reader #beau arlen x reader #soldier boy x reader #russell shaw x reader #jensen ackles x reader #A birthday dream (4)#x reader #female reader

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greenlikethesea · 2 years ago

Photo

@sparklyslug and I commissioned the incredible @mardyart to draw a pivotal scene from our fic, Three Weddings and a Funeral, a part in our currently sprawling universe Let us Dwell in Fair Ithilien and There Make a Garden. For those who have read, you might recognize this as a scene from the third chapter, post [redacted] funeral, where Steve and Eddie have a conversation in the Byers-Hopper kitchen about what is deserved.

Thank you so much for this beautiful art, Mardy. We’re so unbelievably thrilled with the finished product, and we couldn’t be happier. You’re the best!

Referenced fic excerpt under the cut, for context!

“Oh Joyce, love of my life,” Eddie says to himself, removing several pints of Ben and Jerry’s from the freezer and lining them up on the kitchen counter. Without even asking Steve for his preference, he wordlessly hands Steve the almost full pint of Cherry Garcia. He just knows which one is his favorite, apparently, which shouldn’t surprise Steve as much as it does. “Do you think it’s too soon to propose to her?”

“I see your stance on asking people out at funerals has changed,” Steve remarks, ignoring the swoop in his stomach at Eddie’s (playful, completely not serious, Joyce is their mom) suggestion.

“First of all, post-funeral is fair game,” Eddie says as he gets out two bowls and two spoons; he, like Steve, knows this kitchen like the back of his hand. Even knows where to find a jar of apparently unopened maraschino cherries, theatrically blowing the dust off the lid into Steve’s face, who in return theatrically coughs and gags. After a slight pause, he takes the pint of Cherry Garcia out of Steve’s hand and sets to making a little sundae for him. Steve can only dumbly watch as Eddie gives him two scoops and presses down on them so they’re a little softer, just how Steve likes it, adding a brusquely effective swirl of whipped cream, cherries on top, before handing it back to him. In Steve’s professional opinion, it’s a Scoops Ahoy-worthy performance. Makes him kind of wish the outfit was involved, mmm.

“Secondly,” Eddie says, Steve doing a quick mental scramble away from the vision of Eddie in blue striped shorts and back towards whatever the hell they had been talking about, “I’m pretty sure a sexless marriage is out of the question for her, so it would be a swift no.” He’s less formal with his own ice cream prep, simply jamming a spoon into his own tub (Phish Food, which is just so typically him), whipped cream and cherries apparently forgotten.

“She deserves better than that,” Steve says now, years later, chasing a stray cherry around the side of his bowl with his spoon. “And so do you.”

Eddie gives Steve a look, a little bit of humor and a little bit of apprehension and a bit of evaluation. And something so unsurprised, too, a kind of fond Jesus H Christ, of course smile manifesting just through the shadow of a dimple, not quite making itself entirely seen.

“I know,” Eddie says simply. The quiet confidence of a man who does know what he deserves, does know that he can and should be desired. Treasured. And get what he wants. And who is, maybe, a little surprised that Steve knows that too.

Steve pops the maraschino cherry between his teeth, flavor exploding at the back of his tongue, just this shy of too syrupy-sweet, as he looks at Eddie’s face. He can feel it coming in, then. The way he’s heard that the water pulls all the way back far as the eye can see, before a tsunami comes rushing back in. Has a sense of what’s heading his way, in the time that it takes for Eddie to shake his head ruefully and continue, taking his eyes off Steve’s face in an uncharacteristically indirect move. One of only a handful of times Steve can think of, when Eddie hasn’t looked frank and fearless into Steve’s eyes.

“You do too,” Eddie says to his bowl with quiet ferocity, and follows it with a spoonful of ice cream so quickly that it’s like he’s trying to stuff the words back in. Cover up the evidence with Ben&Jerry’s finest.

I love him, Steve thinks, the hundred-foot high wave coming in. Less devastating of a natural disaster, but sure as shit knocking him off his feet and sending him spinning. Hey, Eddie. I love you.

#steddie #mardyart #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanart #steddie fanart #fair ithilien verse

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dragonzfanfics11 · 3 months ago

Note

Hiya Hiya! Me again! Was wondering if you were up for doing SBG main six with (hard to explain for me) S/O that like fidgets a lot?(I think that's what people would call it, I honestly don't know.) Examples: S/O gets bored so they draw on themselves, S/O gets bored so they draw on (SBG main six)'s hand 9r wherever, S/O gets bored/needs to fidget with something? Don't worry (SBG main six)'s hands/fingers are perfect to play/mess with(to clarify NOT in a inappropriate way, for all those dirty minded people).

-⭐️ Anon

P.S: do headcanons if needed or whatever you want! Also DONT feel like you have to do my request, only do it if you want to!

hello again!! :3 I believe what your explaining is kinda like adhd sorta? I get what your trying to say either way and i think this is a great request :D also don't worry I actually like fanfic writing so your requests are always a fun activity for me

Warnings- very fluffy, small/short one-shots/storys, definitely spelling errors, your already dating them in this

Sbg x fidgety reader!!

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Ashlen

you where all hanging out at the school bus graveyard doing whatever (talking, catching up of school, sleep, ect.) You where sitting next to ashlen who was just chilling sitting on her phone

You where fidgeting with your hands or the end of your shirt just looking around as the others do whatever they where doing and ashlen notices your fidgeting

"Somthing bothering you?"

She looks over at you as you turn your head to meet her gaze

"Hm? Oh- no I'm fine, why?"

"You won't stop fidgeting with your fingers and shirt"

"Ohh that's just something I sorta do I don't really know why"

She raises a eyebrow at you but doesn't push anything as she l9oks back at her phone you go back to looking around before she holds her hand out to you

She didn't look at you as she did she just held her hand out and you happily grab it and just fidget with her fingers slightly just enjoying the surprising peaceful moment

That aiden may or may not have ruined after a while

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Aiden

You where all in the phantom dimension just hanging out in the school bus graveyard, there was no big plans today so you where all just kinda chilling

Aiden was sitting next to you in one of the bus seats surprisingly not doing anything to stupid and you where just drawing on your jeans with some pen you found

"Whatcha doing?"

"Drawing"

You continue to draw on your jeans as aiden leans over you watching you doodle

"Can I draw on you?"

You say randomly as you look up at him which his usual smile grows in excitement

"Only if I can draw on you to!"

"Deal"

Then you doodle on his hand for a bit before he does the same to you, both of your hands littered with little doodles of whatever

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Ben

Your both in the graveyard like usual as everyone's just trying to catch up on sleep or talking about what happened that night

You were just fidgeting with your own hands as ben is sitting next to you with his headphones in and his eyes closed

You eventually just grab his hand and gently fidget with his fingers witch makes him open his eyes and look at you confused which you pay no mind to as you continue fidgeting with his fingers

He watches you for a moment before closing his eyes again letting you fidget with his fingers and maybe later he'd give you his notebook to draw or something

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Tyler

Your in the graveyard (shocker I know lol) everyone's just talking and making a plan for what to do the next night in the phantom dimension

Your kinda paying attention as you draw tiny doodles on your hand tylers sitting next to you arguing about some part of the plan I'm sure

Eventually your hand is to coverd in doodles to draw any more so you just grab tylers hand which makes him look over at you confused

"What are you doing?"

"Doodling"

"On my hand?"

"Yep"

He looks annoyed but doesn't push you away or try to stop you as he just goes back to the plan that was being discussed and you just draw random doodles on his hand

(He secretly loves them and keeps them on his hand for the rest of the day)

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Taylor

(Very very short sorry)

You'd be in the graveyard (again) just talking about last night in the phantom dimension your just fidgeting with your own hands as you pay attention to the conversation slightly

Taylors sitting next to you whe you gently grab her hand and start fidgeting with her fingers

She wouldn't mind at all and just fidget with your hand as well with a bright smile and even let you doodle on her hand afterwards

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Logen

You guys would be in the phantom dimension discussing something, logen is sitting next to you as he pays attention to the conversation you on the other hand are doodling on your hand still slightly paying attention though

Logen notices your doodling but dosent say anything cuz he knows you fidget a lot for no apparent reason

Hes pretty focused on the conversation when you gently grab his hand making him look over at you

"What are you doing?"

"Can I draw on you?"

"I-uh sure"

nods blushing slightly as you start to make small doodles on his hand for the rest of the conversation by the time its over his hand was coverd in small doodles

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Hope this turned out how you expected it!! And thanks for the request again!!

#school bus graveyard x reader #aiden clark #aiden x reader #ashlyn banner #ashlyn x reader #ben clark #ben x reader #logen fields #logen x reader #tyler x reader #tyler hernandez #taylor x reader #taylor hernandez #sbg x reader #sbg (webtoon)#school bus graveyard

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ohquail · 24 days ago

Text

SBG as Voltron AU

Friends that wanted to be tagged: @blue-eyed-moon-child @niredsw @random-gamer1942

The roles

Black Lion: Tyler He's very much leadership material and with Ashlyn as Allura, it gives Tyler the perfect opportunity to be leader when she's not around yet give her the ability to run things like she does in the comic and Allura does in the show.

Blue Lion: Taylor She's thoughtful, caring, puts others first, like Lance did with everyone (LANCE STOP GETTING HURT), and Allura did at the end of the show.

Red Lion: Aiden Very loose and fast, likes to live on edge, very much a second hand man and doesn't take leadership even when he could, allowing Tyler and Ashlyn to take over. But also protective of everyone, like Keith is of Shiro and King Alfor was of Allura.

Green Lion: Logan Probably the smartest in the group when it comes to school like things. I think that he would struggle in the same way Pidge did when connecting to nature, in the "I like being inside but if I have to connect to the tree I will"

Yellow Lion: Ben Big guy, smart, compassionate, thoughtful, just like Hunk and Gyrgan.

Ashlyn is Allura Ashlyn is Allura because she fits the role of Red as much as Aiden does. So when/if Aiden gets the Keith running off to galra arc, Ashlyn gets the red lion :D

Alex is Coran

Maverick is Zarkon

Ryan is Thace

Jasmine is Haggar (without the weird, being honerva bit? like no romantic feelings please)

Charlie is Sendak (Maybe I'll draw these later)

Continue for Chapter 1: (This will be a continuing series & I will be splitting episodes into one-two chapters depending on length)

“You come up here to rock out?” Aiden asked, removing Logan’s headphones slightly. Logan jumped, whipping around to see who was behind him. “Oh, Aiden, Ben.” Logan greeted with a sigh of relief, “No, um, just looking at the stars,”

Aiden and Ben exchanged a glance. "Stars?" Aiden echoed, lifting his gaze to the empty canvas of the sky. "It's a little cloudy tonight, don't you think?"

Logan shrugged, “So?” “Where'd you get this stuff? It doesn't look like Garrison tech.” Aiden frowned, giving Logan a confused look. “I built it,” Logan sat up proudly and grinned at Aiden and Ben. “You built all of this?” Aiden asked as Ben bent down to touch one of the pieces of equipment. Logan reached over and gently smacked Ben’s hand away, “Stop it!” He turned his attention back to Aiden, “With this thing, I can scan all the way to the edge of the solar system.” “That right?” Aiden asked, a smug grin on his face, “Would you say, all the way to Kerberos?” Logan froze, slightly glaring at Aiden. “You go ballistic every time the instructors bring it up.”

Logan glared at Aiden. The blonde continued, “What's your deal?”

Ben reached towards Logan’s equipment again. “Second warning Ben!” Logan turned and scolded.

“Look, Logan, if we're going to bond as a team, we can't have any secrets.” Aiden squatted down to Logan’s eye level. Logan sighed, “Fine. The world as you know it is about to change. The Kerberos Mission wasn't lost because of some malfunction or crew mistake.” Ben reached over to touch Logan’s computer. “Stop touching my equipment!” Logan demanded.

Ben made a face of disgust before sitting back and nodding that he’d listen this time. Logan continued, “So, I've been scanning the system and picking up alien radio chatter,” “I’m sorry what?” Aiden asked, blinking in disbelief. “Aliens? Really?” Logan nodded.

“So, you're insane. Got it.” Ben’s phone spoke out for him. “I'm serious.” Logan promised, “They keep repeating one word, ‘Voltron.’ And tonight, it's going crazier than I have ever heard it.”

“What is Voltron?” Aiden asked as if Logan had all the answers.

“I have no clue,” Logan gave a helpless shrug.

Suddenly the PA activated, “Attention, students. This is not a drill. We are on lockdown! Security situation Zulu Niner.” The gentleman on the comms instructed, “Repeat: all students are to remain in barracks until further notice.” “What's going on?” Aiden asked, a frown as he looked up at the PA system. “Is that a meteor?” Logan asked, squinting through his glasses. “A very, very big meteor?” Aiden asked, in disbelief as he turned back around. Logan grabbed his binoculars from his bag and held them up to his face. “No. It's a ship,” Logan looked slightly panicked. Aiden grabbed the binoculars and pointed them at the sky. “Holy crow! I can't believe what I'm seeing! That's not one of ours.” “No. It’s one of theirs,” Logan shook his head and started packing up his stuff. “Where are you going? We’re under lock down,” Aiden furrowed his brow in confusion and upset.

“I've got to see that ship,” Logan told Aiden, grabbing his binoculars back before dipping over the short edge of the building they were on. Aiden watched for a moment as Logan hit the ground and started running towards the airship that had now crashed into the ground. “Come on Ben,” Ben grabbed Aiden’s arm before the blonde jumped off the building after Logan. “This is the worst team-building exercise ever,” He had typed into his phone. It read the message out loud before Aiden laughed and turned to jump off the building.

The sound of multiple Garrison vehicles departing to the crash site erupted from the building just before Aiden landed with a thud on softened earth, a cloud of dust billowing around him. Ben touched down more gracefully, landing on the balls of his feet. His eyes remained focused on Logan's receding form.

——— As soon as they approached the crash site, Ben and Aiden noticed that Logan had set up his computer behind a rock formation. Aiden and Ben ran over and crouched down with Logan. “What are you doing?” Aiden asked, looking over Logan’s shoulder to see the computer. “Trying to hack into their security cameras,” Logan shushed Aiden with his finger. “You can do that?” Ben’s phone spoke out for him. “Yeah,” Logan answered without anymore explanation. Aiden and Ben glanced at each other with concerned emotions etched onto their faces. “They set up a camera in there and I grabbed its feed.” Logan moved the computer for Ben and Aiden to both see.

“Look!” Aiden pointed at the screen at a teenage boy struggling against restrains. A staticky voice came through the feed, “Hey! What are you doing?” The boy asked, continuing to struggle. The head of cadet training, Iverson, motioned for two people in hazmat suits to hold the boy down. “Calm down, Tyler. We just need to keep you quarantined until we run some tests,” Tyler continued to struggle against the people in hazmat suits, “You have to listen to me! They destroy worlds!” He grunted as one of the people threw his shoulder into the table, “Aliens are coming!” “That's Tyler! The pilot of the Kerberos Mission! That guy was in our class!” Aiden looked completely shocked.

Ben watched the video feed for a moment longer, his fingers quickly tapping on the screen of his phone. “Guess he's not dead in space, after all,” the robotic voice echoed around him.

“But where's the rest of the crew?” Logan asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he scanned the screen for the other crew members.

“Do you know how long you've been gone?” Iverson asked Tyler. Tyler shot Iverson a disgusted look, “I don't know. Months? Years? Look, there's no time. Aliens are coming here for a weapon.” Tyler continued to ramble, “They're probably on their way. They'll destroy us. We have to find Voltron!” “Voltron?” Logan asked, staring at the screen in disbelief.

“Put him under,” Iverson instructed, “Until we figure out more,” Tyler freaked out, “Don't put me under! No! There's no time!” He assured them but one of the hazmat suited people stuck a needle into his arm.

The trio outside the tent watched as Tyler drifted off to sleep. “They didn't ask about the rest of the crew.” Logan frowned. “Why didn’t they ask about the rest of the crew?” “What are they doing? He's a legend. They're not even gonna listen to him?” Aiden exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“We have to get him out.” Logan decided, shutting his computer and stashing it into his backpack. Before Aiden and Logan could jump the gun and rush into the tent to save Tyler, Ben held up a hand as he tried to quickly type out his thoughts. “I hate to be the voice of reason, always, but weren't we watching on Logan’s computer because there was no way to get past the guards?” “That was before we were properly motivated,” Logan assured Ben with a pat on the shoulder before a large explosion rang out on the opposite side of the canyon.

“Is that the aliens? Are they here? They got here so quick!” Ben’s phone rang out after a moment. “No, those explosions were a distraction, for him.” Aiden pointed at a hooded figure parking a hover bike before they rushed into the tent where the Garrison was keeping Tyler.

“The Garrison's headed toward the blast, and he's sneaking in from the other side.” Aiden frowned.

“Who is that?” Ben’s phone asked before Logan and Aiden both jumped over the wall. “Only one way to find out!” Logan called up to the tall boy before the blonde and brunette started to sprint towards the tent.

Ben hesitated, glanced toward the distant explosion once more, then sprinted after them, his phone clutched tight in one hand.

Inside the tent, Tyler was still unconscious, his face pale against the cold metal table. Two people in hazmat suit were examining the unconscious boy as the hooded person walked into the tent. “These readings are off the chart,” One man said before the other noticed the hooded figure. “HEY!” The man shouted, pointing a gloved finger at the intruder.

But the hooded figure moved with a speed that didn’t seem quite possible. They knocked the two men unconscious swiftly and efficiently before rushing over to the table and yanking off their hood. “Tyler?” Taylor asked, her eyes seemingly playing a trick on her. She unbuckled her twin brother from the table before wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “Nope.” Aiden walked in with Logan right on his tail. “No, you— No, no, no. No, you don't. I'm saving Tyler,” “Who are you?” Taylor asked, before looking at Logan. “Logan?” “Hi Taylor,” Logan waved before looking around the tent. “Where’s the rest of the crew?” “No time for that! We need to get out of here before the Garrison grumps come back,” Aiden insisted.

Text from Logan’s phone rang out in the silence. “They’re on their way back. Now.” Logan pointed at the entrance where they had left Ben on look out.

Taylor glared at them, her eyes flitting between Aiden and Logan. But she could feel Tyler sagging against her, his breaths ragged. “Come on,” Taylor sighed, motioning with her free hand for Aiden to walk with her.

Logan followed after them, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder. "We're coming out," Logan sent a message to Ben, who was still outside the tent. As soon as they got outside, all 5 of them loaded onto Taylor’s hover bike, “Can we catch a ride with you? Thanks!” Aiden smiled at the hispanic girl as he climbed up on the bike after her.

“Is this thing going to be big enough for all of us?” Logan asked, as Aiden handed him Tyler. “No,” Taylor started the bike and took off as the Garrison professors and admin started to approach the tent. “Why am I holding this guy?” Logan asked, adjusting Tyler’s weight on him but careful not to let the boy fall off the bike.

“Can't this thing go any faster?” Aiden questioned, with a judgmental tone.

“We could toss out some non-essential weight,” Taylor shot back with a smirk on her face.

“Oh, right!” Aiden looked around for something to toss off the bike, “Okay, so that was an insult.” “Big guy! Lean left!” Taylor instructed to Ben. Ben leaned as instructed. His silent compliance added a much-needed stability to their chaotic escape. Tyler groaned softly in Logan's arms, stirring but not waking.

“Aw, man! Mr. Harris just wiped out Professor Montgomery! No, no. He's fine,” Logan assured the rest of the group. Taylor rolled her eyes.

“Big guy, lean right!” Taylor instructed Ben again and he did as he was told. “Guys? Is that a cliff up ahead?” Logan asked with stammer in his voice.

“Oh, no, no, no!” Aiden protested. “Yup,” Taylor smirked and pressed on the gas pedal. “No, no, no!” Logan and Aiden screamed as the bike approached the edge of the cliff.

“What are you doing? You're going to kill us all!” Logan asked, regret of this adventure seeping into his voice. “Shut up and trust me!” Taylor commanded, her grip tightening on the handlebars. As their speed increased, the ground beneath them dropped away and for a moment they were suspended in air.

————— In the morning, Taylor walked out to where Tyler had been admiring the sunset. “Hey Ty,” She greeted her brother.

"Hey Tay," Tyler responded, not taking his eyes off the horizon. He was sitting on a rock, legs folded beneath him in criss cross applesauce.

“It's good to have you back,” Taylor moved and sat down next to Tyler.

Tyler turned and looked at her with a faint smile on his face. “It's good to be back,” Taylor smiled back before laying into the questions, “So, what happened out there? Where were you?”

“I wish I could tell you, Tay. My head is still pretty scrambled from the whole experience,” Tyler shook his head softly. “I was on an alien ship, but somehow I escaped. It's all a blur. But, how did you know to come save me when I crashed?” “You should come see this,” Taylor stood up and offered Tyler her hand.

——— “What have you been working on, Taylor?” Tyler asked as Taylor yanked a cloth off the cork board on the wall. Logan, Aiden and Ben paused what they were doing and looked over at the twins.

“I can't explain it, really,” Taylor looked at the bulletin board, “After getting booted from the Garrison, I was kind of lost and found myself drawn out to this place. It's like something some energy, was telling me to search,” “Search for what?” Aiden asked. “Well, I didn't really know at the time until I stumbled across this area,” Taylor pointed at a picture that was almost out of her reach, “It's an outcropping of giant boulders with caves covered in these ancient markings. Each tells a slightly different story about a blue lion, but they all share clues leading to some event, some arrival happening last night,” She turned to Tyler, “Then, you showed up.” A thought dawned on Tyler, “I probably should thank you all for helping Tay get me out of there,” He extended his hand towards Aiden. “Aiden, right?”

Aiden nodded and took Tyler’s hand in his. After a firm handshake, Tyler moved to Logan and Ben. “The quiet guy is Ben. I’m Logan. So, did anyone else from your crew make it out?” “Uh, I’m not sure. Everything is a bit of a daze still,” Tyler frowned, “Sorry,” “It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Logan assured Tyler.

Ben typed up something on his phone, “Yeah, sorry to interrupt, but back to the aliens. Where are they now? Are they coming? Are they coming for us? Where are they at this very moment?” Everyone chuckled at the automated voice messing up a few words at the general repetitiveness of the message. “I can't really put it together. I remember the word ‘Voltron.’ It's some kind of weapon they're looking for, but I don't know why,” Tyler paused, “Whatever it is, I think we need to find it before they do.” Ben quickly typed up another message, “Well, last night, I was rummaging through Logan’s stuff, and-” “Why were you going through my stuff?” Logan asked, cutting off the automated voice. Ben rolled his eyes softly before typing out a new message and letting it play. “I watched a lady bug crawl in. But, then, I started reading his diary.” “What?” Logan asked, grabbing the book Ben pulled out of his pocket away from the taller boy. Ben’s message kept playing out of the phone, “I noticed the repeating series of numbers the aliens are searching for -looks a lot like a Fraunhofer line.” “Frown who?” Taylor asked with a frown on her face.

Ben typed a reply quickly, “It's a number describing the emission spectrum of an element, only, this element doesn't exist on Earth. I thought it might be this Voltron. I think can build a machine to look for it, like a Voltron finder,” Aiden stared at his cousin in shock as the tall boy pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. Ben typed up one more message before opening the paper up. “The wavelength looks like this.” “Give me that!” Taylor demanded before holding it up to the picture she had pointed to earlier. The two pictures, the graph and photograph, matched up perfectly.

———

“Okay, I admit it. This is super freaky.” Aiden mumbled under his breath as the group traversed the desert plateaus. “I'm getting a reading.” Taylor looked at the small device that Ben had put together and given her to read. “This way,” She pulled Logan, who’s bag was filled with the rest of the equipment and attached to the device in Taylor’s hand, in the direction of the reading.

After a while of walking, they came across a cave. Adorning the walls was several carvings, no, hundreds of carvings of a female lion.

“Whoa.” The group looked around and gasped simultaneously. Tyler turned towards Taylor, “What are these?” “These are the lion carvings I was telling you about,” Taylor assured Tyler, before dragging her hand over the dust on the wall. Immediately the carving lit up bright blue and shined in Taylor’s face. Taylor jumped back into Tyler’s arms as the ground crumbled beneath the small group. Everyone screamed as the floor collapsed and shot them down a slide like earth fixture. “TAYLOR!” Aiden complained as soon they landed. “Why do you and Ben feel the need to touch everything?” Ben turned and glared at Aiden, but remained quiet as usual. “I didn’t know that touching the wall would make the floor collapse,” Taylor told Aiden, everyone turned toward a large giant Lion with a force field. “Is this it? Is this the Voltron?” Tyler asked. “It must be,” Logan took the tracker device out of Taylor’s hand. “This is what's been causing all of this crazy energy out here.” “Looks like there's a force field around it.” Aiden point out as Taylor and he started to walk up to it.

“Does anyone else get the feeling this is staring at them?” Taylor asked, moving slightly. “No,” Tyler followed his sister and the blonde up to the lion. “Hm, yeah no. It’s definitely following me,” Taylor decided. Aiden walked up and gently put his hands on the force field. “I wonder how we get through this,” Taylor smirked as a idea popped into her head, “Maybe you just have to knock,” She rapped her fingers against the cool energy field, it immediately fell away. “AH!” Taylor jumped back slightly. A vision of a large robotic man appeared in all five kids minds. “Woah,” Logan looked up at the lion.

“Uh, did everyone just see that?” Tyler asked, rubbing his head slightly. “Voltron is a robot.” Aiden muttered as if in a trance, “Voltron is a huge, huge, awesome robot.” “And this thing is only one part of it! I wonder where the rest of them are.” Taylor mused as she walked up to the lion. “This is what they're looking for,” Tyler whispered, mostly to himself. “Incredible.” The lion stood up as Taylor approached, and Ben and Logan screamed. “Come on babies! Let’s check it out!” “Hate to be a voice of reason, like ever, but Taylor stop touching things!” Aiden ran after the girl as she darted into the Lion.

Tyler motioned for Ben and Logan to follow him after the other two. Ben typed something up on his phone quickly, “Isn’t this a bad idea?” “Yeah but it’s a fun idea, live a little,” Tyler smirked before walking up into the lion as well. Ben and Logan glanced at each other once before following Tyler into the ship. As soon as they entered the lion, Aiden turned to them. “Okay, guys, I feel the need to point out, just so that we're all aware. We are in some kind of futuristic alien cat head right now.” “Yup,” Taylor smirked, moving to sit down. She put her hands on the controls.

As soon as she did, a deep purring spoke through her head. “Woah,” She turned to the rest of the group, “Did you guys just hear that?” “Hear what?” Logan asked, looking at Taylor. Taylor looked around the small cockpit, “I think it's talking to me.” She mumbled, before moving the controls around. The lion immediately took off, and the lion shot out of the cave.

Aiden, Logan and Ben grabbed each other and screamed. Tyler started at them in disbelief for a moment before turning his attention to Taylor. “Careful Tay,” He pointed out a rock formation. Taylor responded immediately, moving the controls around to avoid the obstacle. “You are the worst pilot ever!” Logan screamed as Taylor sent the Lion into a spiral.

With an eager grin, Taylor turned to the others and exclaimed, “Isn't this awesome?” Taylor asked. “Make it stop.” Logan begged, “Make it stop,” “I’m not doing anything.” Taylor promised, “It's like it's on autopilot.” The Lion steered itself towards the atmosphere, “Where are you going?” Aiden asked, stumbling as the lion rocked violently.

“I just said it's on autopilot!” Taylor insisted, “It says there's an alien ship approaching Earth. I think we're supposed to stop it.” “What did it say, exactly?” Tyler asked, leaning forward to look out the window.

“It's not like it's saying words.” Taylor felt the eyes of all 4 boys fall onto her in disgust and disbelief, “It's more like feeding ideas into my brain, kind of.”

“If this thing is the weapon they're coming for, why don't we just, I don't know, give it to them? Maybe they'll leave us alone.” Ben’s phone read out for him. Tyler turned, offended, “You don't understand,” He assured Ben, “These monsters spread like a plague throughout the galaxy, destroying everything in their path.” Ben gulped, clearly distressed but Tyler continued, “There's no bargaining with them. They won't stop until everything is dead.” “Okay, he gets it,” Aiden defending, “Don’t lay into him like that,” They all turned to see an alien ship entering the space around Earth’s atmosphere. Taylor interrupted the boys before a huge argument could erupt, “Okay, I think I know what to do.” She pushed the controls forward and the lion shot forward into the sky.

“Hey! This isn't a simulator,” Logan reminded Taylor as the Lion reached the exosphere. “That’s good. I always crashed the simulation when I was in school,” She smirked at Logan who gave her a panicked look. “That’s not calming!” Logan told Taylor as the girl moved the controls around. “Let’s try this!” She exclaimed as she pushed the controls forward. The jaw of the lion open and a beam of energy shot out towards the alien ship. The energy beam hit the side of the alien ship, causing a series of bright, violent explosions to ripple across its metallic hull. “Nice job, Tay,” “I think it's time to get these guys away from our planet.” Taylor said, piloting the lion away from Earth. They got a good distance before the alien ship started to follow them. “Oh no,” Tyler mumbled under his breath. “They're gaining on us!” Logan panicked, pushing the back of Taylor’s seat. “It's weird. They're not trying to shoot us. They're just chasing.” Taylor observed, her fingers nimbly adjusting the controls as she kept a steady eye on the pursuing ship. Aiden put his hands up to get everyone’s attention, “Okay, seriously, now we think having aliens follow us is good? I am not on board with this new direction, guys.” “Where are we?” Ben’s phone read out, the digital voice cutting through the noise in the cockpit.

“Edge of the solar system. There's Kerberos,” Logan pointed at the moon of Pluto. “That’s impossible, it took us months to get out here,” Tyler gasped in disbelief, “We got out here in five seconds.” A spherical opening, a distorted sphere with a glowing center opened up in front of the lion. It was a good distance away but the Lion seemed to be dead set on going through.

“A wormhole of sorts, where does it go?” Logan asked Taylor, who struggled and said she didn’t know.

“Tyler, you're the senior officer here. What should we do?” Taylor looked up at her brother.

Tyler looked at the other kids, “Whatever is happening, the lion knows more than we do.” Tyler looked at Aiden, who nodded, “I say we trust it, but we're a team now. We should decide together.” Taylor glanced around, all for boys nodded at her. “Alright, guess you’re all skipping class tomorrow,” She pushed the controls forward and the Lion shot into the wormhole.

———— As they exited the wormhole, an entirely new vista unfolded before their eyes. Kaleidoscopic patterns of nebulae painted the alien sky, with twinkling stars that seemed to breathe and pulse with life. “Where are we?” Ben’s phone read out again, its digital voice sounding even more surreal amidst this cosmic seascape.

“I have no clue,” Logan answered, “I don’t recognize any of these star patterns,” “Me neither,” Tyler looked out the window at the sky. “We must be a long, long way from Earth.” The lion approached a earth like planet, “The lion seems to want to go to this planet.” Taylor told the boys, “I think I think it's going home.” The lion soared into the planet’s atmosphere, plunging through plumes of vibrant, iridescent clouds. As they broke through the final layer, a sprawling cityscape came into view, nestled amidst a lush expanse of emerald-green forests and crystalline rivers.

"Doesn't look like anything from our textbooks," Aiden remarked, his eyes wide with awe.

“Um, is it just me or is anyone else having second thoughts about flying through a mysterious wormhole? Why are we listening to a robotic lion anyway?” Logan asked as the Lion approached a castle like building. “It got us away from that alien warship, didn't it?” Taylor shot back. “I don't know if you noticed, but we're in an alien warship.” Tyler pointed out, patting Taylor on the head.

“Oh, are you scared?” Taylor teased. “With you at the helm? Terrified,” Tyler poked the side of her face before turning his attention to the castle they were approaching.

The castle was enormous, a towering structure of gleaming spires and arching buttresses that seemed to shimmer with an ethereal light. As they landed, Tyler pulled everyone’s attention to him. “No one's happy to be in this situation, but we're here now. If we want to get through this, we've got to do it together.” “Yes sir,” Aiden gave a teasing salute.

“Don’t do that,” Tyler crossed his arms.

“Look at that castle though,” Taylor got out of the pilot seat and tried to book it out of the lion. Tyler grabbed her arm and stopped her, “Keep your guard up.” “Is something wrong Tyler?” Logan asked, cautiously prodding for information. Tyler turned to him, “My crew was captured by aliens once. I'm not going to let it happen again,” As soon as the kids were out of the lion and walking up to the castle, the lion moved. “No! I knew it was going to eat us! No!” Logan screeched, covering his head with his hands. The lion roared and the entrance to the castle opened. “No, it’s just opening the door for us,” Aiden pointed out, touching Logan’s shoulder. The slightly taller boy looked up and sighed in relief. Taylor ran into the castle, “Hello?” She called out into the pitch black foyer. “Taylor! Be careful!” Tyler scolded his sister as the boys walked in after her.

“I am!” Taylor promised, “Hello? Is anyone there?” “Please hold for identity scan,” A voice called out before a beam of light scanned over the five kids.

“What? Why are we here? What do you want with us?” Logan asked as the beam stopped scanning them. Lights leading down the hall flickered on, “Guess we’re going that way,” Aiden started walking down the hall. As they all walked down the hall, the lights continued to flick on, lighting and leading their way. Eventually, they were lead to a room with two cryo-pods. Ben typed up a quick message on his phone and played it out for everyone, “Where are we?” “It's some kind of control room,” Logan observed, scanning the unfamiliar technology around them with a hit of curiosity. “Are these guys dead?” Aiden asked, tapping onto one of the cryo-pods. The pod opened with a hiss of air and a red headed girl fell out, her knees buckling as she called out, “Dad!” Aiden leaped forward and caught her, “Hello there,”

“Who are you? Where am I?” The girl asked, looking up into Aiden’s eyes. Aiden smirked, “I’m Aiden, and you’re right here in my arms,”

"Quit the flirt, Aiden. We're not in a rom-com," Tyler grumbled, stepping forward and offering a hand to the girl. “Who are you people?” The girl asked, pushing Aiden to the ground as she took Tyler’s hand. Tyler helped her up. “Where is King Mike? What are you doing in my castle? “A blue lion brought us here,” Taylor butted in. “How do you have the Blue Lion? What happened to its paladin? What are you all doing here? Unless,” She paused, “How long has it been?” “We don’t know what your talking about,” Logan said as the girl pushed away from Tyler and walked over to a small panel sticking out of the floor and started typing on it. “Why don't you tell us who you are? Maybe we can help.” Tyler suggested, sticking his hands in his shorts pockets. “I am Princess Ashlyn of Planet Altea,” Ashlyn informed the earthlings, “I've got to find out where we are and how long we've been asleep.” Logan looked over her shoulder, “Okay, that's how that works. What is that language though?” A man groaned before Ashlyn could answer. He fell out of his pod before jumping up, “Enemy combatants!” “Nope! Nope!” Taylor assured him otherwise, “We’re friendly, I promise,” The man looked skeptical but stood at ease. “It can't be.” Ashlyn gasped, covering her mouth. “What is it?” The man asked, suddenly very worried for the princess. “We've been asleep for 10,000 years.” Ashlyn stared forward, “Planet Altea and all of the planets in our solar system have been destroyed. Alex, Father is gone. Our entire civilization,”

“Maverick,” Alex shook his head is disbelief. “Maverick?” Logan asked in confusion. “He was the King of the Galra. A vile creature and enemy to all free people.” Ashlyn started to sink onto the floor. “I remember now, I was his prisoner,” Tyler crossed his arms over his chest. “He's still alive? Impossible!” Alex stared at Tyler in disbelief and distrust. “I can't explain it, but it's true,” Tyler nodded, “He's searching for a super weapon called Voltron.” Ashlyn stood back up, “He's searching for it because he knows it's the only thing that can defeat him, and that's exactly why we must find it before he does,” “We?” Aiden interrupted, “Why us?

Word Count: 5,074

#school bus graveyard #school bus graveyard webtoon #ashlyn banner sbg #aiden clark sbg #tyler hernandez sbg #logan fields sbg #taylor hernandez sbg #ben clark sbg #alex sbg #voltron #voltron legendary defender #sbg voltron au #alternate universe #sbg au

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eclecticqueennerd · 1 year ago

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Bad Dream

You rolled over in your shared bed with Ben and faced your nightstand. Cracking an eye open you read the digital clock, 3:30 in the morning. Sleep, slowly taking you back to dreamland, you hear the jiggling of the room door handle and the creaking of the door being opened. Hearing the soft padding of feet on the hardwood floor approaching the bed, a small, shadowed figure stood by your side of the bed. Opening your eyes fully, you see your son, clad in his cowboy pj’s, gently shaking you awake. Propping yourself up on your elbow you say,

“What wrong baby?”

“I had a bad dream; can I sleep with you and daddy?” You shift a little in the bed, making room for your son to climb in between Ben and you. Your son got settled in between the two of you, and wrap your arms around him, gently stroking his hair to calm him. During all this, Ben did not stir in his sleep, you’ve always been impressed with how deeply he slept.

“What was your dream about baby?” you asked your son gently.

“I had a dream that you and daddy died. In my dream, a supervillain and wanted to kill you for trying to get him in trouble.”

“Oh, well that is a scary dream. It’s okay honey, daddy won’t let that happen, he’s very, very strong. You, me, and daddy are all safe.” With a few more reassuring head rubs, your son fell back asleep, tucked against Ben. Sleep found you shortly after.

A few hours later, the sunlight poured into your room through sheer curtains framing your bedroom window. You shift in the bed to face your boys but noticed that the bed was empty. You slowly sit up and rub your eyes. You hear the soft cluttering of pots and pans and your son’s voice coming from the kitchen. Peeling back the blankets on the bed, you make your way into the kitchen and see Ben preparing breakfast while your son was drawing a picture at the counter.

“See daddy? This is what the supervillain looked like!” your son holds up the drawing and your stomach drops. A tall man with blonde hair adorned in a suit of red, white and blue, bright orange lasers coming from his eyes. Ben turns around and looks at the drawing,

“This is the guy? This guy is just puppet in a suit. He can’t hurt us, and if he tries, daddy punch him so hard his head will fly off.”

“But daddy I saw it! He used his laser eyes on mommy, and you were so mad, you then tried to beat him up and he used his laser eyes on you!”

“Sammy, I’m not letting anything happen to you or Mommy. It was just a dream, okay champ?” Ben reached out to give Sam a hair ruffle. You approached the two boys, sitting next to Sam.

“Let’s draw something else okay baby?” The two of you busied yourself while Ben made scrambled eggs and pancakes for breakfast. Before eating, Sam held up his drawing, proud of himself.

“Who are these people honey?” You point to a man in a trench coat with spikey hair and a fuzzy beard, a girl with claws on her fingers and scowl on her face, a short man with a mustache with big brown eyes, a large black man with a beard and a small, framed man with curly hair.

“They’re gonna kill the supervillain Mommy!”

“Okay, breakfast is done!” Ben said, placing the food on the counter.

What you didn’t know was that this was your son’s first power appearing, his power to predict the future.

#the boys #the boys amazon #billy butcher #frenchie #karl urban #mothers milk #billy butcher x reader #kimiko the boys #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #jensen ackles

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laremsworld · 6 months ago

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Bridgerton-Men and their kinks

1. Benedict Bridgerton: Edging

Warning: nsfw, minord please dni

We all know the scene in the book where Benedict takes Sophie‘s innocence and then almost comes before her, right?

Well, shortly after their wedding, this really happens. Sophie ist just a few more strokes away from coming as well, but her husband suddenly stills.

„Fuck“, Benedict curses, not even able to look at his wife. This never happened to him, not even with any of these girls that never mattered, how could it happen with the love of his life? Sophie ensures him that it‘s okay, but of course it‘s not.

He makes up for it of course. Before his wife can even finish saying „it‘s okay“, his face is already down between her legs, his fingers drawing knowing circles around her sensitive bud. But Sophie, already being taken back from the edge of relief, is not able to cum as fast as Benedict would‘ve guessed. She‘s sensitive and yet what seems like miles away from her orgasm. After some time the second born bridgerton can feel himsel hardening again, so he thinks it‘s a good idea to let go of Sophie and find his way back inside her again. It is when Sophie lets out an animalistic growl, when he realizes he might‘ve done something wrong. He takes a second to look at his wife and the sight of her makes him literally almist come again. Sophie Bridgerton looks like she just lost all her brain cells and seems to not being even able to form a simple sentence. „Please“, she pleads, „please.“

Benedict gives her his famous crooked smile, as he starts an unapolategic pace. Sophie is now a whining mess and - oh God - Benedict never thought he‘d enjoy the tears running down her cheeks, but knowing it‘s from pleasure is making HIM going feral this time.

„Please what, huh?“, he asks, pounding in her faster and harder he ever did, „you want me to continue, darling? Want me to make you feel as good as you made me feel today?“

„Please“, Sophie cries.

„Or“, he asks, not chancing his pace, „am I hurting you? Does my darling wife want me to please stop?“

Sophie tries to say something, anything, but in that moment her husband reaches that very spot, that makes her loose her mind.

Benedict can feel that his wife is close. He can feel her walls tightening around him, and just when Sophie‘s eyes start Rolling back and her hips arch to meet his movements - he pulls out.

„Ben!“, Sophie cries of desperation, literally starting to cry out of frustation now.

Benedict doesn’t respond. He turns his wife around, so that she‘s on all her fours, then he fastly crawls behind her and pushes back inside before Sophie can process what‘s happening.

Benedict had never ushered any thoughts about the mirror next to the wardrobe they share, but in this position - facing the opposite direction then normally while love making, he can watch himself fuck his wife from behind - how did he never thought of using the mirror before?

Watching his wife loosing sanity while pleasuring her from behind is going to be his new favourite view for sure.

Sophie would‘ve normally enjoyed this view too, of course, but at this point she can barely stay on her arms and knees. Her head is rested on the bed, while every push of Benedict let‘s her moan.

Benedict suddenly grabs her by her neck and forces her to face the mirror.

„Look at you“, he praises, his voice raspy from the second orgasm building inside him.

„Please“, Sophie whispers one last time.

Benedict has started kissing and biting her neck, while his hands keep her steady.

„Look what fauxpax of mine has made of you“, he chuckles, his lips merely away from her skin, „drunk without a single drop of alcohol… senseless and helpless… in need of me to free you from your desperation…“

Sophie watches his hand trail lower and lower. She holds her breath, waiting for him to grant her the release she craves so much.

Then, finally, his finger meets her most sensitive bud - and she‘s gone. Everything turns dark and she screams so loud Benedict is sure the neighbours will have heard it. He

holds her for a few more pushes, just until he cums inside her a second time - with a louder growl than normally, but he honestly doesn’t think Sophie notices.

He carefully turns her around, so that he can fall back to the pillow and take her in an embrace with him. None of them speaks for a while - Sophie needs some time to regain her breath.

„I always thought the more orgasms I squeeze out of you, the better. But maybe it‘s not about quantity, but the quality that matters, huh?“ he chuckles.

From this day on, Benedict occasionally made sure to cum before his wife.

Okay, this was going to be a small Dribble with all men and their kinks explained briefly but then this happened 🤣 Do you want me to make ones with the other brothers and brothers-in-law?

#bridgerton #benophie #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #kanthony #bridgerton au #polin bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfic #benedict bridgerton smut

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daryltwdixon · 2 months ago

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The Ruins of Us: Chapter 5

content warnings: S/A (if you aren't comfortable reading that, skip the flashback, basically Shane tries to take advantage of you in his truck after seeing you distraught over the argument with Daryl).

Daryl pulls the truck to a stop behind the rest of the vehicles as you approach the CDC building. You reach for the passenger door handle, pushing it open just a crack when Daryl leans over, pulling it shut again with a sudden, forceful motion.

“What the hell, Dare?” you ask, glancing at him in confusion. You gesture toward the building. “We have to go.”

Daryl takes a deep breath, his jaw clenched. He’s been restless the entire ride, huffing, sighing, stealing glances at you but never saying a word. You’d tried to ask what was wrong, prying into the silence three separate times, but he’d only muttered, “Nothin’,” under his breath. After the third time, you’d dropped it, sensing he wasn’t ready to talk. But now, as you sit parked outside the CDC in a moment of mounting danger, it seems like he's finally ready to say something.

“Shane,” he says, his voice low.

You raise an eyebrow at him, waiting for more. He doesn’t continue, so you press, “Shane… what?”

“Lori,” he mutters, his eyes searching your face for understanding.

A chill runs up your spine, though you’re not entirely sure what he’s getting at yet. Something about the way he says it, the tension in his voice, makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Your cheeks flush with sudden heat.

He bites the inside of his cheek, nods to himself, and abruptly swings open his door, grabbing his crossbow from the backseat without another word.

“What the hell…” you mutter to yourself, still bewildered. You clamber out after him, gripping your knife tightly in one hand and feeling the weight of the semi-automatic pistol strapped to your back. The tension of whatever he was trying to say lingers in the air, unsettled and unfinished.

The first thing that hits you when you step out of the truck is the stench. The smell of decay is so thick it feels like you can taste it. It wraps around you like a suffocating fog. The group moves through the sea of walker bodies strewn across the ground, the air buzzing with the sound of flies. You hear people gagging, covering their mouths and noses to block out the stench. Years of growing up in rough circumstances had dulled your senses to bad smells—dumpster diving, the stench of sickness in drug houses—it all seemed easy compared to this. Even Daryl, with all his tough experiences, tightens his jaw but keeps moving. But still, nothing had quite prepared you for the sheer rotting that surrounded the CDC.The sound of flies buzzing is overwhelming as Rick says in a panicked voice: “keep moving, keep it moving,”

You catch up to Daryl, leaning close as you whisper, “It’s getting dark, Daryl. We shouldn’t be out here.”

He glances at you, his crossbow gripped tightly in one hand, a rifle in the other. His eyes scan the horizon, then pass over your face before darting to the surroundings again.

“Walkers!” he suddenly yells, firing an arrow directly into the skull of a nearby corpse. The arrow slices through the air, landing perfectly between the walker’s eyes. You draw your rifle, slipping your knife away as you raise the gun, preparing for the worst.

Daryl turns on Rick, frustration boiling over. “You led us into a graveyard!”

Shane steps forward, bristling as he shouts at Daryl to shut up. You move between them, holding your hand up. “He’s right. We shouldn’t be out here this close to the city. Not at night.”

Shane barely glances at you, his focus shifting immediately to Rick. “This is a dead end,” he says sharply, his voice full of urgency and frustration. “Do you hear me? Fort Benning, Rick—it’s still an option!”

“On what?” Andrea barks, “No food, no fuel, that's a hundred miles!”

“125, I checked the map,” says the boy in the baseball hat. You still hadn’t managed to get everyone’s names, especially those who went out to Atlanta.

“We need answers tonight, now, ” Lori growls.

The group begins to unravel, fear creeping into every movement, every word. People are retreating toward the cars, panic settling in. You stay close to Rick, watching him search desperately for any kind of answer, any sign of hope. You look over to the windows–shut. The garage door isn't budging either. You look up, for anything– anything and–

“The camera!” you shout, noticing the little security cam on top of the door, “it moved, I swear it moved,”

Rick looks up too, his voice filled with renewed urgency. “I saw it. I saw it move!” He calls out to the others, but they’re too consumed with panic to listen. Dale’s voice is skeptical, telling Rick he’s imagining things. But Rick’s not hearing any of it. His lip curls, and he pounds on the door, frustration spilling over.

You feel Daryl’s hand grip your arm tightly, pulling you back. You resist, trying to plant yourself firmly, watching Rick with wide eyes as he pounds on the door.

“I know you’re in there!” Rick pleads aggressively to the security cam, “I know you can hear me. Please, we are desperate. We have women and children–nowhere to go!”

“I ain’t gonna let you die here, Y/N!” Daryl growls, still pulling at you, his voice thick with urgency. You struggle against his grip, but your heart is sinking. Rick is right. This was supposed to work. This had to work.

“Y/N!” Daryl yells your name again, and finally, you give in, letting him drag you back. The overwhelming sense of helplessness is suffocating, clawing at your chest as you watch Rick being pulled away too, fighting with everything he has.

“You’re killing us!” Rick screams at the camera as Shane and Lori drag him back. “You’re killing us!” His voice cracks with emotion, his desperate pleas echoing in the still night air.

And then, just as all hope feels lost, bright light explodes in front of you. The garage door begins to rise, illuminating the group and the lifeless bodies scattered around.

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・

x flashback x

Daryl had never spoken to you like that before. To other people? Sure. Strangers, even well-intentioned ones, often got an earful of curse words from him. But with you, he was different—usually more careful, holding back that sharp tongue of his. But today, his words had been laced with venom, and you couldn’t stop replaying them over and over in your head. No matter how hard you tried to shove them out of your mind, they stuck.

You’d cried so much already that you didn’t think you had any tears left. Your feet were sore from walking too long in boots that were too small, and your shorts, torn and tattered, were rubbing your skin raw. A truck pulled up next to you, and you wiped at your eyes, squinting through the haze of tears to see Shane’s familiar face behind the wheel.

“Go away,” you said, voice cracking. You continued walking forward and he coasted along next to you in the street.

“What’s goin on? I thought we were goin’ to the drive-in tonight?” he said from his rolled down window. Just the thought of the drive-in reminded you of Daryl again and your tears come back. God, how many tears could a human make in such a short amount of time?

“Baby, come on,” Shane urged gently, “get in. I’ll at least take you home.”

You stopped in your tracks, unsure of where you even wanted to go. Home didn’t sound appealing, but neither did wandering aimlessly through the streets for the next 20 minutes. Your shoulders sagged, and with a sniffle, you crossed the road and climbed into his passenger seat.

“I don’t wanna go home,” you muttered, your voice hoarse from crying.

“Whatever you wanna do,” Shane whispered, pulling you in close. He parked the truck, wrapping his arms around you, holding you as you collapsed into him, sobbing uncontrollably. His hand stroked your hair as he shushed you softly, his voice soothing but distant. It wasn’t long before your sobs turned into quiet sniffles, your breath finally evening out.

“What happened?” Shane asked, his voice gentle but insistent.

“Daryl’s a jackass,” you choked out, your throat still raw. “I hate him.” The words felt wrong even as you said them, because deep down you knew you didn’t mean it.

“Yeah, well, that kid’s no good for you anyway. Bad influence, bad temper,” Shane muttered, shaking his head as he continued stroking your hair. You sat up slightly, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, feeling drained and empty.

“He’s not, he’s just real good with words,” you mutter sarcastically, opening the visor mirror. You deflate when you get a good look at yourself. Puffy red eyes and swollen lips. You might as well be called Rudolph –your nose is such a bright shade of pink. As you fussed over yourself, Shane was deep in thought, his chin between his fingers, leaning over the driver’s side door as he put the car in drive. “What is it?” you asked, looking over at him. He stayed quiet for a while, driving up to a dirt patch by the side of your house a few minutes later. He switched the car off and turned to you. All the lights are out inside the house. Mom was most likely out getting boozed up or she’s asleep on the couch. Shane’s truck dash read 8:00PM. You sighed and looked back over to him, waiting for any explanation for his pensive quietness.

“I don’t think you should be hanging with the likes of Daryl Dixon anymore. You’ve got too much ahead of you. Too many amazing opportunities he’ll ruin for you. You gotta put this kid behind you, baby, leave him in the past,” he said heavily, rubbing his hand against his stubble, not looking at you.

His words took you by surprise, and for a moment you just stared at him, trying to process what he was saying. “He’s my best friend,” you said, bitterness creeping into your voice.

“Yeah, and when you go off to college, you know what Dixon’s gonna do? He’ll probably sit around bitchin’ about you being a goodie two shoes while he’s stuck at home with that loser daddy of his,” Shane spat, his voice suddenly sharp. You flinched at his words, taken aback by the venom in them. He had no idea what Daryl’s life was like.

“How dare you,” you hiss out at him.

“C’mon, baby, you know he’s no good,” Shane continued, his tone softening again. “You have a life ahead of you. You can get into college this fall, get away from here. Away from all this.”

“And you,” you shot back, eyes narrowed.

He looked at you, his brown eyes serious. “I didn’t say that.”

You let out a bitter, sarcastic laugh. “Right. So you want me to ditch my best friend since childhood, ride off into the sunset, and be all alone in some new place? Great plan.”

“C’mere, I’m sorry,” he said, reaching for you. You hesitated, considering pushing him away and getting out of the truck. But his expression was soft, pleading, and your defenses crumbled. You leaned into him, your back pressed against his chest as his arms circled around you.

“I ain’t leavin’ him,” you said quietly after a few moments. “I won’t.”

“We’ll talk about it more later,” Shane whispered, his hands trailing over your arms and shoulders. You sighed as his lips moved from your hair to your jaw, planting soft kisses down the side of your neck. But instead of comfort, you felt a rising discomfort, a sense of unease. He pushed your spaghetti strap down, exposing the top of your bra.

“Please, Shane,” you groaned, your voice exhausted, “not tonight. I feel gross.” You placed your hands over his to stop him, but his grip tightened instead, his hands moving more insistently over your body.

“Shhh, let me take your mind off things,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear as his hand slipped under your bra.

“Shane—” you started, but he didn’t stop. His hands were rough, searching, and your body tensed under his touch. Daryl’s words echoed in your head, and suddenly, everything felt wrong. You felt trapped, suffocated by his presence.

“No,” you grunted, trying to pull away, but his grip was too strong. His arm wrapped around you, holding you in place as his other hand explored your body, ignoring your protests.

“I have to go,” you said hastily, pulling at the car door handle and pushing your way out.

“Get back here,” he said sharply. You paused before you could slide out the door, and Shane used that moment to grab the back of your neck and pull you in, causing the door to slam shut.

You let out a yelp as he held you against him again, “Where do you think you’re going?” he growled into your ear, his one arm holding you flush against him across your chest, and the other traveling down your body, opening your legs. Your skin suddenly felt red hot and tingling, adrenaline starting to enter your blood system.

“No,” you grunted, hands pulling at the strong arm holding you down, “Shane–no!” You squirmed, but he was so much stronger than you it’s futile. His free hand palmed you through your shorts, no matter how much you tried kicking and squirming away. He dragged his hand up toward your chest, pulling your shirt down below your bra, tearing one of the straps so it hung loose down your front. He viciously pulled your bra down while palming one of your breasts. Your body was in fight or flight now, he’d never forced you to do anything–a nything against your will like this. You didn’t know this Shane, this animal inside of him. But instead of trying to fight it anymore, you felt your brain just shutting down and almost just…freezing.

“Good girl,” he growled in your ear, sending ice cold shivers down your spine.

“Please stop,” you pleaded to him, voice thick from trying not to cry.

Suddenly, Shane pushed you away, shoving you toward the passenger door. “Fine. Get out,” he barked. Shocked, you fumbled for the handle, your hands shaking as you pulled the door open and practically fell out of the truck. You turned to say something, but Shane was already peeling away, tires screeching as he sped off into the night.

Shivering, you adjusted your shirt, pulling it back into place as you stood there, feeling exposed and raw. The house loomed in front of you, dark and empty. You found the key under the mat, unlocking the door with trembling fingers. Pushing your way inside, you slammed the door behind you, locking it tight.

The silence of the empty house was overwhelming. You leaned against the door, clutching your stomach as your breath came in shallow gasps. Alone at last, you collapsed onto the floor, your body trembling uncontrollably as dry sobs wracked your chest.

It was a long time before you could even get up. When you finally did, you dragged yourself to your bedroom, collapsing onto the bed without bothering to change clothes. The smell of mildew filled the room, but for once, you didn’t care. You pulled the covers over your head, fists clenched tightly around the fabric.

That night, you cried yourself to sleep.

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