#I need a save tag because this is beautiful and my boi has feels and ugh.

[hayatoseyepatch]

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Description: Sometimes In the heat of the moment, you don’t always make it to the bedroom. Here’s some scenarios of some of the windbreaker boys fucking you anywhere but your bed.

Characters: Jo Togame, Toma Hiragi, Hajime Umemiya, & Haruka Sakura

Word Count: 2.7k

Tags: fem!reader, public sex, rough sex, praise, degradation, dirty talk, penetrative sex, handjobs, oral (m!receiving), hair pulling, mentions of being caught, daddy calling, brat taming, slight sub themes in Sakura’s.

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a/n: This has been sitting in my mind for quite some time so I needed to get it out of my system. Also, this is my first time writing for Hiragi so please let me know what you think, I hope I did him some justice. Anyways I hope you enjoy!

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The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes off the walls of the empty auditorium like a crescendo. Togame especially loved fucking you in the abandoned auditorium because the beautiful sounds that you made for him reverberated off the walls in such a way that made your voice carry and come straight back to his ears. Only serving to make him want you to make more. “Jo please, fuck, what if someone comes.” You whimper, the fear of being caught overwhelmed by the pleasure you were feeling from the snap of his hips.

“Then they’d get quite the show, wouldn’t they princes??” He chuckles, deep and breathy in your ear. You feel the heat rush to your cheeks in embarrassment at the thought of someone walking in on you both. Seeing Togame’s large hands gripping the plush of your waist, your body clad in nothing save for his Shishitoren jacket as he fucks you into the hard linoleum floors of the stage. His deep laughter hits your ear once more, his voice coming out in that slow drawl that always served to send a rush of heat to your cunt.

“But… judging by the way your pretty pussy just clamped down on me.. I’d say you wouldn’t mind that too much.. would you baby?”

His grin is lazy and full of mischief when he pulls away, looking down at you with half lidded eyes as he drags his cock back, leaving only the tip of himself still inside before slamming his full length back into you in one harsh thrust. He sets a brutal pace after that, effectively cutting off any argument you had against his words, corners of your vision going blurry from the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you. “Jo, fuck, please” You cry out, your voice carrying in the empty auditorium so loud it had you attempting to cover your mouth to conceal the noises you were making, afraid someone passing by would hear.

His eyes darken, hips ceasing all movement, as he looks down at you with a lifted eyebrow. You were quick to remove your hand, knowing how much he loved to hear you and knowing he would come to a full stop until he could hear you once more. “Jo, please, ‘m sorry please don’t stop” He smirks at the sound of your begging, your voice carrying once more. “Thats right doll, let me hear you. I don’t want you to hold back a single fucking sound do you understand that darling?”

The sounds of his hips slamming against yours, the noises falling from both of your lips and the squelching of your wetness as he fucks into you filling the room once more. “You hear that pretty girl? Hear how fucking wet you are for me? How sloppy your pretty cunt has gotten for me angel? So good pretty girl, so good for me, my only complaint is how wasteful it is to have you dripping like this without me down there to lap up every fucking drop of your sweetness princess.” He continues the snapping of his hips recklessly against yours. Your cries of his name egging him on every syllable you let out going straight to his cock. Sure you both could fuck in your shared bed, but where was the fun in that? Especially when the sounds you make for him echo so deliciously off these walls and only spur him on to see just how loud you could get for him.

You had brought this on yourself, you know you did, but how could you be expected to control yourself while on the back if his bike? The two of you had gone on a late night drive on his motorcycle, he always looked so sexy driving his bike, his large hands switching gears as he rested them on the handlebars. His thighs straddling the bike as he drives it with ease, weaving in and out of traffic, head tilting back every so often to make sure you were okay. It had started innocent enough, your hands placed on his chest to keep yourself steady as he drove, feeling his muscles through the fabric of his shirt. Rubbing up and down as you rested your cheek on his broad back.

But as you watched him drive, your hands slid farther south. He had given you a warning glance, one which you ignored as you let your hands continue to wander. The vibrations of the bikes engine spurring your movements. The only thing separating you from the leather were your panties, wearing a skirt that Hiragi had warned you “was not proper riding attire”. You feel his breath hitch as your hands slid to his thighs , inching closer to where a tent was starting to form in those tight pants he always wears. Your fingers eventually curled around his hardening member, the bike lurching as he was caught off guard.

That was what led you to where you were now, your hair wrapped around Hiragi’s fist, him using it as leverage to arch your back further towards him. The two of you pulled over to the side of the road in a more secluded wooded area as Hiragi has you bent over his bike, taking you from behind.

“You can never behave can you, pretty girl? Here I was just wanting to go on a nice ride with my girl, but someone couldn’t keep their hands to themselves could they?” Hiragi groans through gritted teeth. His eyes rolled back once more hearing his name slips past your lips hips bucking involuntarily as his cock head kisses your deepest parts.

Hiragi wasnt sure how much longer he would be able to remain his composure. His teeth sink into the crook of your neck, he cant control the roll of his hips at the words that slip from your lips. Cock throbbing in need. His hand is quick to slide to the inside of your thigh wishing he was able to see just how beautiful you were spread wide for him. He lets his fingers curl around your throat squeezing just enough to make gaining air flow a bit difficult, now using your throat as leverage to pull you back against him.

His sharp canines digging into the supple flesh of your neck as the thumb of his begins rubbing slow dragging circles against your puffy clit. “Take all of me princess, gonna fill you up so deep. Always so tight for me darling.” Cries of his name fall from your lips like a mantra, meeting his thrusts as best as you can, eyes rolling back from the intense pleasure. “I wanna come with you, Toma, please let me.” You whispered breathlessly as you reach the precipice of orgasm head fuzzy and thoughtless as your walls spasm around his cock.

Your release triggering his own as he paints your walls white. The two of you lean over the bike, attempting to catch your breaths. Hiragi slips from inside you, sliding your panties back in place, punctuating the action with a swift slap to your ass. “Now, lets see if we can finish this ride without me having to pull over again to take care of my needy girl, yeah?” He grins mounting the bike once more, both of you knowing this was far from over, anticipating what awaited you as you head back home.

He grins against your lips, head ducking down to take a hardened bud between his lips, tongue lolling against it, coming to a point to flick at the sensitive area before letting his teeth capture it. Pulling his head back to tug until releasing, pupils blows wide seeing the bounce of the plush flesh he was rewarded with. He was quick to give the other nipple the same treatment. Hands trailing from your ankles to your knees, forcing your legs apart further under his strong grip. He groans into your chest as he feels your hands on him hand making a trail up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the hood of your clit before rubbing slow agonizing circles as he continues his attention to your nipples.

Fingers slipping from your center, he grips your panties by the waistband, expertly sliding them from your hips leaving you entirely bare before him. Fingers digging into the flesh of your ass he pulls your hips flush against his own giving an experimental roll of his hips, hardened cock rubbing against your center.

“Thats right my pretty little kitten, my perfect fucken princess.” He groaned against your skin, head ducking to your neck once more, teeth sinking into the delicate skin tongue soothing the area. Now that he was sunk completely in, he gives an experimental snap of his hips, your pleas guiding each motion of his hips. He picks up the pace, angling his hips just right to nudge that sensitive spot deep inside you.

“Go on princess wanna hear you say my name angel, bet you cant even finish it can you my pretty baby.” He teases against your skin, hips picking up their pace. His hands hook under your knees, pulling you until your ass was hanging off the desk, so he could lay you back, both of you so caught in your actions that you hadnt noticed the red light flashing on the soundboard of the desk he had laid you on in the announcement room.

He presses your knees to your chest now able to hit a much deeper angle. Groaning a long growl of your name and a slew of profanities as the sound of his hips meeting yours fills the room. “You hear that princess? How wet my cunt is for me angel, sounds like a fucken symphony kitten.” He groans against your skin, hips slamming into yours “Fuck Hajime, please, I’m close. Wanna come, please let me Daddy.”

The coil had been tight in his abdomen, but he would hold out, he wouldnt allow himself to fall over the edge before you had. He picks up the pace once more, thrusts growing sloppy under the pleasure. His thumb quickens its pace pressing harder against the bundle of nerves. “Go on on princess, come for me, wanna feel those pretty walls clamp down on my cock. Fuuck just like that kitten” His movements growing erratic as you both were nearing your highs.

Just as you were about to be thrown over the edge the sound of loud bangs on the door fill your ears, swiftly jerking you and Umemiya apart from each other. It was only moments later that you heard Hiragi’s exasperated voice ring out. “Umemiya you idiot the loudspeaker, its on you dumbass!!” Your eyes blown wide cheeks flusing deeply at the knowledge that the entore school had heard you both for gods knows how long. Umemiyas boisterous laughter is all that is heard before the intercom goes off. “Oopsies silly me, well I guess theres no question of who you belong to know is there, babygir?” The smirk that grazes his lips making you question if that was an accident at all.

“Are you outta your fucken mind?!” Comes Sakuras harsh whisper, his face a deep maroon, his lips pressed to your ear to keep the words between you both. “Hm?” You barely acknowledge him, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly. As if you hadn’t just unbuckled his pants under the table at Kotoha’s restaurant. As if you weren’t currently sat across from Nirei, Suo, and Kiryu while pulling Sakura’s semi-hard cock from his pants. As if you weren’t wrapping your delicate fingers around his length, thumb swiping his tip to collect the precoma that was starting to bubble over the head of his cock.

“Are you alright Sakura?” Nirei asks innocently, unaware of what you were inflicting upon your poor shy boyfriend. Sakura’s eyes blow wide, the attention now on him, all while you never stopped your movements. Now pumping his length slowly, careful not to move your arm too much and reveal what you were doing. Sakura for once was grateful for Suo’s teasing, his words catching the attention of the other two males sat at the table with you both. “That’s our Sakura, always so bashful, he’s probably all flustered from sitting next to his girlfriend.” He claims his signature smile resting on his face. “Why don’t we go put in our orders, give poor Sakura some time to cool down, hm?” He says, standing the other two following him to the counter.

Sakura’s red face turns to yours sharply once they were out of earshot, grateful at least for the secluded corner booth you were both sat in. “Are you crazy?! We’re gonna get caught, knock it off.” He whispers sharply, only to be met with a grin from you. His body betrays his words, hips bucking to meet your movements. “What was that Haru? Cause it seems to me like you don’t want me to stop.~” You tease, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, looking over to see the boys caught in a conversation with the brunette at the counter. Taking advantage of their distraction as you slide quickly under the table. “Better be quick then, baby. Don’t want them to find out how much you’re loving this do you?”

You hook your hand on the base, tongue lolling out to lick a fat stripe up the underside of him, looking up at him with hooded eyes from under the table. You let your tongue circle his fat mushroom tip, letting your lips close around him, sucking his tip harshly. Sakura’s hand immediately coming to tangle in your hair and teeth coming down to bite on his bottom lip, harsh, to the point of drawing blood. In order to conceal any noises that would attempt to fall from his lips. He feels you lick the underside of his length, groaning loudly when he feels your tongue run along his sensitive tip. He attempts to make eye contact with you, but that doesn’t last long, face planting into the table to hide his reddened cheeks and any expressions that would give away what was occurring beneath the table. “We’re gonna get caught..” He whimpers, stuttering over his words from the pleasure you were giving him.

“Well you better be quick then, Haru.~” You tease, your words slightly muffled from the head of his cock. Resuming your pace, head bobbing up and down as you take more of him into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat. The feeling has him seeing stars. Hips now coming up to buck against your tongue, while his own lolled out of his mouth drool dripping down his chin. “Fuck baby, fuck you feel s-so fuckin, shit, gonna fucking burst if you keep that up.” He whimpers, his hips stuttering as the coil building in his abdomen threatens to snap. Humming against his length at his words, almost as if to say that’s the whole point. Quickening your pace, free hand coming to rest against his balls messaging them feeling the contractions. Your eyes locking with his from your position sends him over the edge. Sakura was quick to bite his knuckles, muffling his sounds as he comes down your throat. Swallowing another groan as he watches you swallow all of him. Jolting upright hearing footsteps approach, hurriedly tucking his softening member into his pants once more.

His eyes blown wide as the other’s sit down with their orders, settling themselves into their seats. “Hey, where’d y/n go?” Kiryu askes, tilting his head. Sakura scrambles for something to say in his post-orgasmic haze, only for you to cut him off popping up from under the table. “Sorry I dropped my spoon, I got it.” You giggle, faux-innocence lacing your tone. “Might need a new one though, this black and white milkshake is thick. Could barely suck it through my straw. Could I borrow yours baby?” You ask with an innocent smile, licking the corner of your mouth. Though the snort Suo lets out around the rim of his teacup tells you that he knew exactly what had just taken place. Sakura’s cheeks so red he thought he would die from blood loss on the spot.

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This was WAYYYY longer than I anticipated but it’s me, are we surprised?? This was so much fun might do a part two if im feelin frisky. But I hope you enjoyed, see you next time!

[ellecdc]

The other day I was at the pub and some cockroach of a man spiked my drink and this really nice guy was helping me out. He was british!! turns out it was my best friend 😭😭😭😭 Can I please request a reader who's been spiked and either of the boys or ships help her out. I honestly thought james was there I was so drunk 💀 Im being very open about this because it unfortunately happens a lot in my area but I had my girlie with me so it was ok lol if it makes you uncomfortable please feel free to ignore this request! :D

thanks for your patience with this! I'm so sorry this happened to you, but I knew I needed to save it for when inspiration struck (four months later). glad you were alright and your friend (read: James) was there to help you through it <3 -> please note, my requests are currently closed

Regulus Black x fem!reader whose drink was spiked [1.2k words]

CW: spiking someones drink [not described], feeling inebriated due to said drugging, blacking-out/not remembering a period of time, discussion of past vomiting [not described], reader has hair long enough to push behind her ear, hurt/comfort & fluff

Your body felt like it was rolling languidly with the waves; a vessel in search of a shore beyond your line of sight. 

A moan escaped your lips as you followed the waves forward when you felt a cold hand on the back of your neck.

“Do you need to throw up again?”

Again? 

“Again?” You managed around another moan, though your voice came out hoarse and your throat burned something fierce as if you had swallowed lighter fluid. 

The voice simply hummed in agreement; gentle and cautious, its thumb roving back and forth through the baby hairs on the back of your neck. 

“You’re alright.” The voice promised, sounding as though this wasn’t the first time they’d said it. 

“When was I not alright?” You asked through a sigh, sitting back on your heels as you tried to pry your eyes open. 

You were accosted by the sight of a brilliantly beautiful man; short, black curls falling in front his eyes, his dark brows furrowed as his grey eyes scanned your face in concern and perhaps some pity. He lifted a hand and pushed some of your hair that had fallen in front of your own eyes behind your ear; long fingers brushing a barely there touch against your cheek. 

“Are you beginning to feel more lucid?” He murmured quietly, and you noticed then that his position mirrored your own.

Horrifyingly, you were kneeling on the floor of a sterile looking stainless steel bathroom in front of a toilet; you could still hear the thrumming bass through the walls, but you were clearly much further into the building than the bathrooms attached to the dance floor.

And then there was this beautiful man - this beautiful, angelic man with a jaw that looked to be chiselled from the finest stone kneeling beside you; the knees of his well-tailored black dress pants on the ground of a public bathroom, the sleeves of his white button-up shirt rolled to his elbows as his hand returned to the back of your neck where it continued its comforting ministrations. 

And then you saw a name tag. 

“Regulus.” You recited, and you hoped that you didn’t look as disgusting as you felt in the presence of such a handsome bloke. You decided you’d be embarrassed about it later.

“There she is.” He murmured quietly, though you had the impression he was mostly talking to himself. “Can you drink this for me?” He asked then, offering you a cup of water that you went to accept without hesitation.

Your limbs seemed to be working against you; your arms moving in slow motion as you took the cup from his hands, and shaking nearly violently as you brought it to your lips. 

“Easy does it.” Regulus coached as you took slow sips. “Very good.” 

“What happened?” You asked then, relinquishing the cup back to his much more capable hands that he placed beside him. 

“I…I think the guy you were dancing with spiked your drink, darling. I’m so sorry.” He explained, no longer able to look you in the eyes but voice taught with ingenuity. 

“Why are you sorry?” You asked then, trying to intonate humour into your words, though even your own ears recognised how tired you sounded. 

His grey eyes met yours again; regret, guilt, and remorse swimming behind his irises. 

“I should have noticed sooner. I should’ve been keeping a closer eye on you, maybe-”

“S’not your job.” You offered quickly, patting the back of his hand currently resting atop his knee clumsily. 

His face darkened slightly, though he lifted his hand to welcome yours into its grasp. “I’m supposed to make sure everyone’s having fun and staying safe.” 

“Well…” You started, pausing to look around the dark and quiet bathroom before returning your eyes to him. “It sort of looks like you’ve kept me safe?” 

His lip quirked again, though he didn’t verbally agree with you. 

“Have you…been sitting here with me the whole time?” You asked, and if you were feeling any better, you probably would have tried to tease him for the furious blush that took over his face. 

“I- well, yeah…the bouncers were already looking for the bloke and…I didn’t want you to be alone.” 

You tried to smile at him - your body still not cooperating to its fullest extent - but based off of Regulus’ returning smile, he seemed to have picked up on it nonetheless. 

“That’s very nice of you; you’re very nice.” You murmured, changing positions from your knees to sitting with your legs crossed. It was clumsy, and Regulus had to catch you from falling over once, but you thanked your earlier self for deciding on the jeans and not the skirt. 

“So you’ve said.” Regulus replied; a teasing lilt in his voice that immediately flooded you with embarrassment. 

“Oh god; what did I say?”

“Nothing too embarrassing.” He mollified, but the pleased smile on his face and the blush on his cheeks told you otherwise. 

You groaned and let your head fall back against the vanity, both the echo it caused and the small sound of protest from the back of Regulus’ throat signalling you to the fact that it was probably going to hurt later. 

“Please tell me? S’not fair that you can remember and I don’t.” You pouted miserably; you had been teasing (mostly), but the result was Regulus’ face falling immediately as he returned to his earlier guilt. You felt awful for it. 

“Was nothing bad, really.” He offered noncommittally. “Something about having a - erm - guardian angel, and…that I was…beautiful?” 

Your hand itched to reach out and touch the cheek of said beautiful guardian angel where it was a lovely (and furious) pink - to see if it was just as warm beneath your fingers as it looked - but between your lack of coordination, the bone deep tired that was settling throughout your body, and the fact that up until….maybe two minutes ago, you hadn’t even known his name, you fought the urge. 

“Well, good thing I didn’t say anything that was untrue, I suppose.” You offered simply, hoping you didn’t smile too brightly when you saw his head snap up in your peripheral as he stared at you in awe. 

“You’re a flirt when you’re inebriated.” He accused.

“I’m a flirt when I’m sober, too.” You volleyed, allowing your heavy eyes to close knowing you were in safe and welcome company. 

You swore you could hear the smirk that took over his face. “Now that I’ve got to see.”

“Yeah?” You asked, lifting your head to smile at him. “Want my number so you can find out?”

He rolled his eyes goodnaturedly and pulled out a paper and pen from his waist apron before jotting something down. 

“How about you text me when you’re feeling better and you can decide if this wasn’t all just a bad dream or something.” 

“A bad dream with an angel in it?” You teased. “Impossible, Regulus.” 

God, that blush. 

You would definitely be texting him tomorrow.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 16 - Let It Flood

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: This feels like a good time to tell you guys we’re only halfway done and that I pinky promise there’s a happy ending.  Chapter Title from Foundations of Decay by My Chemical Romance

Word Count: 22k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: It's time. Usual Warnings, with big smut and bigger angst.

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

Read on A03!

Chapter 15 - Chapter 17

“What about Paris?” 

She leaned around the bathroom door to frown at Ben, toothbrush muffling her words. “What about Paris?”

“For where they ship us off to after this shit.” Ben glanced down at his phone, displaying a generically fucking boring postcard picture of the Eiffel tower. “It’s full of fucking art and shit.” She loved stupid fucking art and shit.

“I don’t think they’re going to let us choose where we go, Ben.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “And you’d hate Paris. You hate France.”

Ben scowled. “It’s a stupid, useless, cowardly country full of-“

“Fucking pussies,” She smiled at him—so bright and happy—and Ben couldn’t bring himself to do more than roll his eyes at her dogshit impression of him. “I don’t think you’d make it a week in Paris. Someone would offer you food and you’d try to kill them.”

“What about,” Ben glanced at the next recommendation on the Ten Best Romantic Vacation Cities list he’d found online. It wasn’t total fucking shit, even if the website kept trying to tell him the Ten Best Ways to Use a Vibrator with a Partner. He’d save that tab for later. “Havana?”

“Cuba has a strained relationship with the CIA.” She shrugged. “I don’t think they’d agree to take us in.”

“Hawaii?”

“Well, I’d be fine with Hawaii, but I don’t think you would.” She retreated back into the bathroom, and Ben frowned.

“I’d fucking love Hawaii. It would be full of damn beaches to fuck on-”

“No,” She reappeared, walking over to stand between Ben’s legs. Looking so fucking perfect there—wearing his shirt and hair still messy from his hands and holding his face between her palms—that Ben almost missed what she was saying. “They wouldn’t put us in a resort, they’d put us in a town. Probably away from the beach, definitely without the infrastructure it should have. Just a real bummer of human rights. You’d hate it.”

She said those last words so simply that all the fancy, brainy shit she’d been telling Ben felt pointless. She thought he’d hate it, and she was always fucking right, and was smiling down at him with so much adoration on Her face that—even if she was somehow wrong—Ben was now certain he’d hate it.

“Fine,” he grunted, dropping his phone to his lap and tugging Her further forward with hands on the back of her thighs. “Where the hell would you want to go, if you’re so fucking smart.”

She was so fucking smart. And She knew it, because she was grinning when she said, “Rome.”

“Rome?” 

“It has a bunch of art and history and culture for me, and some very good fucking food for you. Plus, everyone there is stupid hot.”

Ben winked at Her. “You’re stupid hot enough to power a country, beautiful. I don’t need anyone else.”

“Thanks,” She mumbled, looking very firmly away from Ben as her face flushed that pretty fucking color. “But I was talking about for our escort business.” 

“And that’s why you’re the damn brains.” Ben rubbed circles on Her skin, and she fell a little further into him, hands tightening on his face. “Always fucking planning. We’re going to need to find some people half as damn hot as we are, because we’re only fucking each other.”

She scoffed, and Ben thought Her heart might beat right out of her chest. “How sweet of you, to keep your dick in your pants at even the prospect of money.”

“We’ll earn plenty of goddamn money. My dick is yours, Sunshine.” 

She hummed, and her hands started to play with Ben’s hair in a way that made him feel like a goddamn puppy. What was worse was that it felt fucking good. Her perfect fucking hands, touching him because she wanted to, because she liked touching him. “Even if someone offered ten million dollars?” 

“Yours.”

“That’s financially irresponsible.” She mumbled, still incredibly fucking determined to not meet his eyes. “We could buy a house with that money.” 

“If I was offering my dick for money,” Ben drawled. “We could buy a fucking island. But it’s yours,” he said Her name firmly, and she glanced at him with wide eyes. “So get damn used to chasing customers off.” 

“Chasing customers off?” 

“I’m going to have to do it for you,” he grinned at Her. “Fucking pussies who think they can fuck you the way I will.” 

She stuck her tongue out at him, but Ben didn’t miss the smile she was failing to fight. “Horny fucking cunt.” 

That was enough. Just that was a good enough reason for Ben to pull Her all the way into his lap, let her straddle his thigh, and silence her small sound of surprise with his mouth. For Ben to tug and touch Her skin in time with all the ways he’d learned to play her mouth until she was limp and moaning against him. Until he could bite Her lower lip and trace his hand along her spine and she’d throw back her head and arch against his hand. Until Ben could suck that spot on her throat and trace a hand across her ribs as she’d start grinding down onto him. 

“Ben-“ 

“Horny fucking cunt,” he echoed Her words against Her skin. “Your horny fucking cunt goddamn wants my dick, doesn’t it? Brat.” 

“Fuck you,” Her words were said through gasps, hands clawed and scraping at Ben’s scalp, and he chuckled.

“Afraid that’s not on the table right now, beautiful.” He pulled back to grin at Her. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t do anything about how fucking wet you are.” 

She whined something that might have been a plea, might have been a curse or vulgar phrase aimed at Ben, or might have been just one of the many pretty fucking sounds she made, but it all would’ve achieved this same effect. She was needy, She wanted Ben, and she was trying to fuck his thigh. Rolling her hips on it desperately, trying to chase relief against him. Making smaller, more desperate noises every time Ben’s hands brushed against her tits, every time his teeth or tongue found a new place to worship her skin. 

This was all they could do right now, and fuck it was torture. It was so goddamn painful to have Her grabbing at him and moaning and saying his name in that perfect fucking way—pleading and adoring in Her breathless voice—and not just be able to fuck Her. To know he had to goddamn wait another day, to feel his pants become tight like they had before and force himself to hold off when She wanted him to fuck Her. She wanted him. He had been given the image of Her slight drool when she’d jerked him off and knew she would look at him like that again. Look at him with more fucking care and want, because Ben would fuck Her until she wouldn’t ever think another weak fucking asshole could fuck her like she deserved. He’d fucking ruin Her. He’d have Her bounce on his cock like she was bouncing on his leg, and he would make her feel so fucking good. Make him worth something to Her, one fucking thing that nobody else would be able to give her.

Ben pulled back for a second, needing to just fucking see Her. See how fucking beautiful she was, wanting him, get a goddamn glimpse of how it would look when she rode his dick instead of his thigh. He’d never seen anything better. He’d seen mountains and waterfalls and the goddamn Northern Lights and they might as well have been fucking dumpster fires and car crashes compared to this. If anything, the car crash would be the only half-worthy comparison. Because She was destroying herself against Ben, staring at him with dazed, pretty fucking eyes, and all the bliss and pleasure on her face was from Ben. He was doing this to Her.

And he couldn’t look away if he tried. 

She’d made a small whine when Ben had pulled away from her throat—pushing down on him harder and hand scraping along the nape of his neck—but he pressed his head against hers and She moaned. 

“Ben, please-“

“So fucking good,” he growled, and She moaned again. “You want to cum, beautiful?” 

She nodded. “Yes.” 

“Beg.” 

“Fucking ass-“ She leaned forward, trying to capture Ben’s lips against hers. “Ben.” 

“I need you to fucking beg,” he kissed all across Her face, everywhere he could without bringing her any closer to the edge. “You want your horny fucking cunt to cum, then beg.”

“Please,” She was smoking. Her skin wasn’t growing warmer, but a glowing smoke was clouding the room as she tried to pull Ben closer. “Fucking please, Ben-“

He kissed Her, and she screamed into his mouth, clawing at his hair and skin. Bucking off his leg so that Ben had to grab Her hips and keep her still, had keep her from continuing to bump against him because he’d cum in his fucking pants. He had to pull himself the fuck together, he wasn’t a goddamn virgin pussy, but fuck She was so perfect. Ben might have almost cum just when She’d smiled at him, standing between his legs and touching him so easily.

As Ben looked at Her come down—beautiful and perfect and torn apart all over him—and she looked at Ben like he’d seen her look at the city skyline from the window, with the face she had when she listened to a song she loved. The Thing became painful. It had been trying to tell him something. Since the night before it had stopped trying to remind Ben how perfect She was, stopped trying to push him into her. Ben was well fucking aware how perfect She was. And since he’d crashed into Her there wasn’t a goddamn chance he was going to pull away.

So now the Thing was trying to tell him something. On repeat over twelve hours it had been rioting in Ben, trying to tell him something so fucking important. Something critical, that he needed to know so She could know as well.

And when She started to slide off of Ben—falling to her knees before him—the Thing felt like it might tear him apart.

“Hi,” She smiled at him, face so fucking bright and happy. Looking at Ben like he was everything.

He was. To Her, he was fucking everything. And weaker men than Ben would’ve cum just from Her saying that. Weaker men wouldn’t fucking survive Her. She’d look at them with sharp, infinite amusement on her beautiful face and fight with them over nothing and they’d simply goddamn die because fuck she was perfect. But She wouldn’t look at them like this. Like they were everything. That was—by some fucking grace of a god Ben was starting to be indebted to—a look She reserved for him. With adoration and care and something that was alive and powerful sitting deep in Her perfect eyes. Thank fuck Ben wasn’t a weaker man. He’d have never earned Her, on her knees before him with her hands on his thighs. He still hadn’t earned Her, but fuck him if he wasn’t going to dedicated the rest of his goddamn life to trying to. To showing Her that he was worthy of her looking at him like that, that he could keep up with her and protect her and-

Ben grunted Her name, because her hand was starting to trail up his leg and any and all thoughts were becoming just Her. “What are you doing.”

“Being an altruist,” She hummed, palm resting over Ben’s fully hard cock, still fucking smiling. “Giving back.”

“Sunshine-“ Ben cut himself off with a hiss, because she just fucking squeezed him. Her heart was stuttering around inside her, but Ben couldn’t tell if it was from desire. He didn’t need, didn’t want, Her to do this because she thought she had to. It had to be from desire. He wasn’t fucking Homelander. If She touched him, he needed her to need it. To want him. It wouldn’t mean a goddamn thing if she didn’t. If She touched Ben without looking at him like he was everything. “If you don’t want to-“

“I want to,” Her answer was fast, a little too fast, and Ben smirked. There it was.

“You want to?” He drawled, leaning over her, tilting her chin between his fingers. “How bad do you want to suck my dick, beautiful?”

“Bad,” She whispered. “But less and less by the second.”

Ben snorted. “Smartass.”

“Do you want me to suck your dick?” She blinked up at him, voice a little softer. “It’s just an offer, you don’t have to take it-“

Ben pulled Her face up between his hands, kissing her until her words name needy sounds and she was grabbing at his arms. When he was satisfied with the way she was moaning, Ben lowered her back down between his legs and grunted her name. “If I ever tell you not to suck my dick, fucking shoot me.”

“Yeah,” She nodded, glancing down at the outline of Ben’s cock, pushing against his pants that were still fucking on for some reason. “Okay.”

He muttered Her name, and she looked back up at him. “How much work do you want to do?”

She didn’t answer. She just started moving, pulling Ben’s pants down and taking him in her hand so quickly Ben would’ve thought she’d practiced. Stroking him once, twice, a third time, looking at his cock with pretty, lust-clouded eyes. Ben twitched in Her hand, and had to force himself not to rut into her, to just groan as Her thumb ran over the angry, red head of his cock. His job was just to watch Her—how she was so fully entranced in fucking torturing him—and let her do what she wanted. But it wasn’t fucking easy, not when she was so fucking beautiful, not when Her mouth was hanging slightly open and Ben didn’t think he could wait another second not being at least somewhat inside of Her.

Thank fucking hell and heaven and everything between that She didn’t go slow. Thank goddamn Christ that She took all on him at once, in a long movement that bumped him against the back of her throat, and set a brutal, torturous fucking pace. Found a beat, fast and rhythmic, where She’d pull up, up, almost all the way off with her hand trailing behind her, and lick the very tip of his cock before dropping back down. Down until Ben could feel the tightness of Her throat, squeezing his balls once before repeating it all again. Over and over, sucking with her teeth grazing him and her moans—loud and needy fucking moans—making Ben wonder if this was heaven. That was the only way that this—that She—was real, if he’d died and somehow managed his way into fucking heaven.

But Ben’s hand in Her hair that he’d tangled between his fingers to just touch her, was real. The small jerks of his hips into Her mouth—when her moans would vibrate around him and echo in his ears so he couldn’t help himself—were real. Her warmth and beauty and the feeling of Her was real. And fuck She was so fucking beautiful and perfect and-

Ben said Her name through strained teeth. “Where-“

She went faster. Moaned louder with a whine, her hand in time with the beat of her heart. Leaned into him, the wettest and most fucking sinful sounds Ben had ever heard escaping her. She was grinding down on air, so fucking pretty and focused, but looking up at him under eyelashes with want. Managing to take him deeper.

What did Ben in was Her. Fucking Her, groaning his name around his cock, looking up at him like he was everything.

He tried to pull away. He’d fucking swear he tried to pull away. He’d tried to paint her face or tits or any other perfect part of Her she’d allow, but she held him. She kept a firm grip on Ben’s leg for just a second—only long enough to tell him what she wanted—and he’d given in. He’d fucked Her face through his orgasm, and She hadn’t flinched as he came down her throat. Swallowing and letting Her tongue brush him all the way until he was done, then pulling off of him with a popping sound, and giving him a soft smile.

The amount of self-control Ben was capable of needed to be fucking studied. Every part of him needed to fuck Her. Anyone with half a fucking mind would need to fuck her if they were allowed to see her like this. Flushed and breathing heavy, eyes slightly unfocused with a want, cum dribbling out of her mouth. Allowed to see Her wipe it off with her fingers and suck them dry. Without hesitation, like it was something she didn’t even have to think about doing. But only Ben was allowed to see this, and that made it a million times more impressive that he was able to not throw Her onto the bed and fuck her until some stupid mission was the last thing she cared about.

The mission. The stupid fucking mission they had been supposed to be getting ready for. When it was over, he’d have all the time in the world to fuck Her like she deserved. But they’d have to actually do the mission first.

“What time is it?” She was looking around the room, still kneeling in front of Ben. “MM said we had to be in the dining hall at noon.” 

Ben couldn’t be fucked to stop staring at Her, let alone know the fucking time. “Check your damn phone, Sunshine, I’m not a fucking clock.” 

She stuck her tongue out at him. Her tongue that had just been wrapped around his cock. That had just been tasting his cum and she was still on Her knees-

“Mine’s dead, and like,” She waved vaguely past him. “Way over there. Give me yours.”

That snapped Ben out of it. Her palm was extended, she was looking at him expectantly, and he could not give her his phone. “You’ve got legs,” he grunted Her name, trying to look at her and remain completely fucking unaffected her flat glare. “Fucking use them.” 

She scoffed. “When have you ever been in favor of me using my legs.”

“I’m always in favor of you using your legs. They make excellent fucking handles.” Ben winked at Her, and her heart fluttered slightly. “And you’re always on my ass about letting you walk yourself. Here’s your fucking chance.” 

“Oh, fuck off.” Her voice was bored, unwavering. “Phone.”

“No. Get your own damn phone.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why are you being so weird.”

“I’m not being fucking weird-“ 

“Yes, you are. What’s wrong with you.” 

“Nothing, it’s my phone-“ 

“Benjamin.” She snapped, and he was in trouble. He knew that voice, that was Her I’m fucking onto your shit, Pretty Boy, voice. “Is it porn? Because I won’t give a flying fuck-“

“It’s not fucking porn,” he scowled. “I wouldn’t hide porn from you, that’s fucking stupid.” 

“So you are hiding something.” 

Shit. “Shut the fuck up.” 

She dove forward, hand jamming into Ben’s pocket. Where She knew he kept his phone, because she knew fucking everything. Insufferable, brilliant, perfect fucking woman. Thankfully, Ben was just faster than she was, and slammed his hand down to trap Her hand against him.

“Ben-“

“I’m not fucking hiding anything,” Ben said Her name firmly. It was incredibly fucking important she didn’t think he was keeping secrets from Her, because he wasn’t. This was worse than that. “I just value my goddamn privacy-“ 

“Oh, shove it up your ass, Pretty Boy.” She tried to tug her hand—now wrapped around Ben’s phone—from his grip. “I leave the door open when I shit and you spent an hour last week telling me about what Baseball games made you hard. I just sucked your dick. There’s literally nothing on your phone that could shock me.” 

He doubted that. Ben almost wanted to just let Her have his phone, to prove her fucking wrong. His pride managed to win for now, but if She kept talking about how she’d sucked his dick his will might dissolve real damn fast. “I told you about the baseball in fucking confidence-“

“I didn’t tell anyone.” She wrinkled her nose. “How would that have even come up? Hey, Annie. You know how you’re not Ben’s biggest fan? Wait until you hear about how he got a boner when the Phillies won the 1980 World Series, I’m sure it’ll completely reverse your opinion of him.” 

“Brat-“ “Can I please just check the time?” She had stopped trying to pull away from Ben, only frowning up at him with her pretty fucking eyes watching him carefully. “I won’t look in your phone, I just need to see the clock. Please.” 

Ben didn’t love how well that worked. How Her saying please and somehow trusting that he really wasn’t hiding anything from her made Ben crumble completely in only a second. Worse, he didn’t hate himself for it. He couldn’t call himself a fucking pussy because goddammit, anyone would’ve given into Her. Anyone with eyes and a brain would be willing to give Her anything.  

“Fine,” he grunted, loosening his hand from pinning Her’s in his pocket. “But I don’t want to hear a fucking word out your mouth, got it?” 

She blinked at him, but nodded. “Uh, sure.” 

His whole body was tense as She pulled out his phone, tapping the screen on, still on her fucking knees. She needed to stand up, needed to stop being so fucking perfect that Ben couldn’t look away, because now he had to watch Her look at his lockscreen as his teeth ground enough to break. Ben had to watch Her eyes widen, hear her heart skip a beat, and soft lips fall open in surprise.

She looked up at Ben, and he couldn’t avoid her gaze if he wanted to. “Ben-“ 

“Shut up,” he grumbled. “You promised. Not a fucking word.” 

“I did not promise,” She pushed. “I agreed. You should’ve made me promise, because I-“

“Fucking promise then. Not a word.” 

“Well, that ship kind of sailed, Benjamin.” Her voice was dry, and Ben couldn’t figure out what that face meant. How She was looking at him—still like he was everything—but with something pushing up behind her eyes. That powerful thing, the one Ben couldn’t name. “So now we’re going to have several words about it.” 

Ben scowled, remaining silent as he realized there wasn’t a way out of this. She was sitting straight, one hand planted on Ben’s knee to balance herself, and had placed her body right where Ben would knock her backwards and onto the floor if he tried to move away. He could try and kiss and fuck his way through it, but She had the sharp look in her eyes that told him she’d either bite him, burn him, or let him fuck her before immediately getting on his ass again after. 

She sighed, and turned Ben’s screen so he could see it. “That’s me.” 

It was Her. She didn’t need to be fucking showing it him, he well knew that it was her. It was his favorite picture of her, the first one he’d taken that wasn’t a blurry piece of shit. It showed her downstairs, watching the TV with a focus Ben could only describe as violent. He remembered what they were watching, that she’d been tapping Ben’s arm along with the soundtrack, and that it had been close to midnight, because he could recite every detail of the photo—in picture and out—backwards with his damn eyes closed. She was wearing Ben’s shirt and shorts that had been small enough for the shirt to completely cover. It gave the impression that she was only wearing Ben’s shirt. She was frowning at the TV—perfect face cast in a green light from its glow—and leaning against Ben’s shoulder with his hand on her thigh. She had been half asleep, and the drawn frustration on her face and intensity in her eyes had been because she was fighting to make it through the movie. The fucking Muppet Movie, that she’d used a favor for Ben to watch with Her. He hadn’t watched it, he’d watched Her watch it, but there was no reason she had to know that. She’d seemed thrilled he was just there, and he’d been satisfied watching Her struggle to stay awake, feeling her fall further and further into his side, and listening to her mumble about the Muppet’s fucking cultural importance right up until the credits rolled and she immediately passed out.

Ben fucking loved that photo. How She could’ve just watched it alone but used a whole favor just for Ben to sit with her. How She’d been so determined to stay awake she’d been trying to inch away from him, but Ben would pull her back gently and she’d just sigh as her eyes drooped further. How at one point She’d started singing along with all the damn puppets, and the room had filled with a colorful, misting light. How She looked so much like his, how anyone glancing at the photo would see that she was choosing him and know that he had chosen her. How fucking beautiful she looked, even in the dark from the higher angle. So fucking perfect. 

He didn’t have any justification for it. The photo or why it was his lockscreen. It had taken Ben a whole hour while She was with Annie and Hughie to figure out how to set it. She’d told him, and he’d listened, but phones were a goddamn terrible, dogshit technology. But he’d done it. By himself. And fought the urge to brag to Her after. Because She didn’t need to know that it was his lockscreen, and Ben didn’t really know to explain why it was. It made him fucking happy. He liked seeing Her pretty face every time he used his phone. 

And he wasn’t sure how to tell Her that without sounding like a fucking idiot pussy.

So he just glared at Her and grunted, “Obviously.” 

“Ben,” Her words were slow, and she wasn’t looking away from him. “Why is that a picture of me.” 

“Because the camera was pointed at your damn face.” 

“Benjamin.” 

“It’s a good fucking photo, okay?” Ben snapped. “You look hot.” 

She glanced at the photo. “I do not look hot.” 

He scoffed. “Get your fucking eyes checked, Sunshine. You look hot. Every photo of you looks hot.” 

Her eyes somehow grew wider, her heart picking up speed, and Ben was going to chop off his tongue. “Every photo of me?” 

“That’s enough,” Ben lunged forward, but She swatted his hand with just enough heat for him to pull back with a hiss of Her name. “Give me my fucking phone.“

“Tell me what you mean by every. Every photo of me.” 

“No.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Fine, you stubborn, grumpy ass. Have it your way.” 

Before Ben could stop Her, she was swiping his phone open and entering his password. Hunching down so Ben could see her face, covering the phone protectively with her body. 

“This is violation of my fucking privacy.” He grumbled. “I’m going to report you to HR.” 

She shot him a flat look from under her lashes. “You didn’t even know what HR was until Mallory made us all sit in on that seminar because I called Butcher a hussy fucking cuntwad bitch and one of the regular agents overheard. And I could report you to HR for taking photos of me without my knowledge.” 

“They’re not damn pervert creep photos-“ 

“Ben,” She looked up at him, thumb hovering over the Photo Library app icon. “As your closest thing to unqualified legal counsel, I’d advise you shut the fuck up.” 

Ben scowled at Her, but snapped his jaw shut, watching her wearily as she opened his photos. 

They were all of Her. The only ones that weren’t of her were something called—according to his very thorough internet research—screenshots, that Ben didn’t know how he was taking, let alone how to stop taking. But the rest was Her. There wasn’t another fucking thing worth taking photos of in this stupid damn compound. In the whole fucking world. She was scrolling through them way too fucking slow, heart stuttering against her ribs, and Ben thought he might be fucking blushing. He didn’t fucking blush, he wasn’t a ditzy fucking schoolgirl or embarrassed pussy asshole who blushed- 

She surged upwards, yanking Ben down by his shirt to kiss him. Gently, sweetly, and so fucking soft, humming into Ben’s mouth with a smile. Leaning against his chest until She was hanging off him with her arms around his neck. When she pulled back Her eyes were burning with that strange fucking look, and she was chewing her lip and she studied him. Looking for something Ben didn’t know how to show Her. Mouth opening and closing, heart beating fast, and the Thing needed to tell Her something- 

“You’ve been playing Candy Crush,” She said with a small, smug grin. “I saw the screenshots. They go back like, three weeks.” 

“Shut up,” he muttered, rolling his eyes, and She just shook her head. 

“No, I’m going to rub this in your fucking face so hard-“ 

It was his turn. To kiss Her and hold her and hope that was enough for the Thing to just stop screaming at him. It wasn’t—it made everything worse when She relaxed against him with a happy sound—and the Thing grew impossible to ignore. Drowning everything out with Her, Her, Her, Ben had something she needed to have too, She needed to understand. The only thing to keep it at bay, from bursting out of Ben and into Her, was touching her. Setting his mouth deeper against Hers, hauling her over him as he lay flat on the mattress, letting her whines and breathless sounds run right through him. Let them satiate his undying need and hunger for Her. 

She pulled back first, and Ben let himself be slightly cocky about how her thighs were squeezing around his chest. About the fact that She just rested her head on his shoulder as she caught her breath. Warm breath fanning over his neck, heartbeat slowing right until Ben started to sit up and She mindlessly ground against him at the movement. 

The Thing had to tell Her about this indescribable, unending fucking something. But the Thing didn’t have words. It was a part of Ben, and Ben couldn’t get a goddamn fucking clue what was so apparently fucking crucial for Her to know. But She had to know, whatever it was she had to know, she needed to get it, get him, get why, Ben needed to tell Her- 

“It’s almost noon,” She whispered against Ben’s skin. “We need to go.” 

Ben nodded, and picked Her up against him, turning them so she was resting on the bed as he stood. “I’m wearing my fucking suit.” 

“Okay,” Ben could see her watching him in the mirror, still only wearing a shirt and underwear. He tossed her some pants and bra over his shoulder, and didn’t move until She started pulling them on. “You should bring your shield as well.” 

He frowned at Her. “What about you.” 

“What about me?” 

“You need a fucking weapon. I still have that pussy agent’s gun-“ 

She rose from the bed, padding over to Ben side with a small smile. “I’m the weapon, Pretty Boy. And I have you.”

Any protests Ben might have had about how She might be a walking, breathing weapon of mass destruction but Homelander always made her freeze were killed by those words. She did have him. She’d always have him. She didn’t need a weapon because she had him. She was brilliant and quick and made of fire, but if all that managed to fail, she had Ben. She was standing here, with him as he changed—stealing looks that he wasn’t fucking missing at his bare chest—and She had Him. 

“What wrong,” he grumbled, and She shook her head, hands roaming through one of the top drawers. 

“Socks.” 

Ben rolled his eyes, and grabbed out a simple black pair from the top. “I want my fucking phone back.” 

“Why, to play Candy Crush?” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Ben muttered. “I’m fucking winning. I’ll delete it when I fucking win.” 

She snorted. “You can’t win Candy Crush, Benjamin.” 

“What the hell are you talking about.”

“There’s like a million levels. And they’re always adding new ones. It’s not a winnable game.” 

“Well I’ll make it fucking winnable.” 

She snorted. “How.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Ben frowned, watching Her as she continued to search the drawer. “And I just gave you perfectly good fucking socks-“

“I need underwear,” She mumbled, face flushing. “Mine are, uh, I can’t wear them.” 

Ben grinned—wide and smug—at Her reflection, “Why not?” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Ah,” Ben winked at Her when she finally met his eyes. “You’re welcome for that.” 

“Shut up,” She chucked a stray bra at Ben, glaring back down. “Go get your stupid fucking phone, you cunt.” 

Ben ran his hand up Her back, into her hair, and gently turned her head to look at him. He kissed Her one last time because she was so fucking perfect and no one could damn stop him. Long and wet, until She said his name in that perfect fucking way. “Brat,” he whispered against Her mouth, and she shoved his chest lightly. 

Ben took a steady step back, chuckling at Her glare, at the way her sharp eyes were still full of want for him. At the way Her dramatic pout was just a little bigger because he’d made her lips swollen. At Her. Just Her. So fucking simply Her. 

As She changed, Ben ducked under the bed and frowned at where he’d stashed the gun. Carefully between the mattress and frame, unloaded with the rounds beside it. He wouldn’t need it. The plan would work, and he wouldn’t need it. There was no need to bring it—to show the team he had it—and not need it. 

But it couldn’t hurt. He could stash it in his suit, hide it from Butcher and Mallory and Annie, and nobody would have to know unless he needed it. And then they wouldn’t try to take it away, because Ben would’ve just fucking saved their asses- 

“Just bring the gun, Ben.” 

His head bumped against the metal frame of the bed as he pulled out from under it and found Her standing above him with her arms crossed. “What-“ 

“You should bring it,” She shrugged. “I mean, it won’t hurt Homelander, but guns don’t weigh nothing. You could throw it at his face, if you needed to. Catch him off guard.”

Fucking Christ, She was perfect. Ben didn’t need to be told twice, and as he returned under the bed to retrieve the gun he heard her steps move away from beside him. When he stood back up, Ben saw that She had moved to her side of the bed, and was placing her sunglasses up on her forehead before turning to Ben with a grin. 

“Ready?” 

Ben shoved his gun into his pants, hauled up his shield, and gave Her a rough nod as he tossed his arm over her shoulder. “Fucking born ready.” 

For once, She and Ben weren’t the last people to arrive at one of these stupid fucking meetings. Butcher and Mallory were there—Ben didn’t think they had lives outside of fucking up everyone else’s—huddled along with MM at the head of the table. The French Prick and Kimiko were in a silent conversation on one of the benches, but Hughie and Annie were late. Ben tried not to feel too smug about it, but next time Annie tried to berate him about keeping his dick in his pants and his mouth to himself because he was making Her late, he’d shove this in her fucking face.

Seeing them, Mallory gave a curt nod and ushered Butcher and MM through the steel kitchen door as She guided Ben to drop down at the bench. Kimiko smiled at them both, the usual, toothy and broad smile for Her, and a small one with a nod for Ben. As She and Kimiko launched into an exchange of gestures, the French Prick gave Ben a nervous nod. 

“Good morning, Soldier Boy,” the French Prick was watching Ben carefully. 

“It fucking isn’t,” Ben grunted, and She kicked his shin under the table. 

Play nice, She shot him a quick glare before returning her attention to Kimiko, and Ben rolled his eyes. He was saved from the French Prick trying to continue engaging with him by Annie and Hughie’s arrival, Annie walking over to join the group of conniving dickheads in the back and Hughie halting at the bench, glancing nervously at Ben. 

“Just sit your pussy ass down, Kid.” Ben snapped, and braced for another hit to his leg. It didn’t come, and when he looked over at Her—expecting a glare or scowl—the only sign she’d heard him was her knee, pressing into his. 

Hughie sat, fidgeting at Ben’s side and trying to look at the doors without anyone noticing. With quick, weak glances and jerked head movements. Ben was about to tell him to just stand the fuck up and join them when he felt Her nudge his shoulder, and looked over to see her blinking at him. 

Kimiko said they were arguing about splitting us up. 

Ben scowled at Her. The fuck do you mean splitting us up. 

Mallory wanted you to go to the tower. MM didn’t. 

That was, genuinely, a fucking shock. MM hated him, there wasn’t a world where he’d stick up for Ben fucking staying with Her. It must have shown across Ben’s face, because She shrugged.

He apparently thought this wouldn’t work if they separated us. Said you’d just be a giant fucking whiny manchild without me. 

Did they decide? Ben decided to ignore MM’s manchild jab, because She’d just find a way to turn it on him with a joke and that fucker seemed to be the only one with a damn working brain. Because there’s not a fucking chance in hell you’re meeting Homelander without me. 

They’re still arguing. Butcher hadn’t voted yet, and they were waiting for Annie. 

Ben rolled his eyes. Who damn died and put those four pussies in charge of us. This is fucking democracy, Sunshine, we deserve a vote. 

Well, we’re both technically dead, Kimiko and Frenchie aren’t citizens, and I think Hughie just doesn’t want to deal with them. 

They’re talking about our fucking lives. We should get a goddamn say. 

Take it up with Mallory, Pretty Boy. 

I’m not taking shit up with Mallory. She can suck my dick if she tries to separate us. 

She pouted at him. I thought your dick was mine to suck alone. 

Ben snorted, pulling Her closer towards him and kissing the top of her head. Before he could growl something in her ear that would make her fucking horny enough to ditch this whole stupid goddamn plan and take off to Rome with him, the doors were swung open and MM stalked back into the room with Annie close behind him. Butcher and Mallory followed after a few seconds—Mallory having pulled a huge fucking poster out of her damn ass at some point—and they stopped at the head of the table as Annie dropped next to Hughie and MM sat beside the French Prick. She hadn’t tried to pull out from under Ben’s arm, and until she did she’d stay right fucking there. 

“Look alive, cunts.” Butcher glared around the table. “We’re moving out as soon as all our bloody ducks are in a row. Grace?” 

Mallory nodded, spreading the poster across the table. It was a blueprint. Ben recognized it immediately. He’d seen it far too many fucking times. It was a Vought Tower blueprint. 

“Butcher, Marvin, Frenchie, and Kimiko will take this door,” she tapped the blueprint, and something around Ben’s throat loosened when he realized he wasn’t going to the tower. He was staying with Her. “Into the building. It’s used for the Seven’s housekeepers and more illicit guests.” 

Hughie frowned. “Illicit?” 

“Hookers, lad.” Butcher winked. “It’s the hooker door.” 

“Oh. Uh, good for them.” 

“And we have access to it?” Annie leaned forward. “MM, you said A-Train-“ 

“He’s leaving it unlocked for us.” MM tapped the map, near where Mallory had just done the same. “And making sure someone conveniently loses their badge.” 

“Someone?” 

“Don’t worry your pure little bleedin heart, Starlight.” Butcher drawled. “We’ll be keepin the lady on lockdown. Best fuckin witness protection package the CIA’s got.” 

Hughie frowned at MM. “What about A-Train? Are we, are we just going to trust him?“

“He’s got his own ass on the line as well now.” MM’s voice was firm. Not leaving room for argument. “And after the Diner, he and Ashley both got skin in the game. I trust him.” 

“And he’s just leaving the door unlocked? Giving us an opening?” 

“He said he’d try and keep The Deep and New Noir distracted. Can’t account for Sage though.” MM looked away from Hughie, back to Mallory. “As long as there hasn’t been any leaks, it shouldn’t fucking matter that Sage is in the tower though. If she doesn’t get the drop on us, she’s a non-issue.” 

Mallory nodded tightly. “Agreed. And none of my men are stupid enough to say shit to anyone, so we’re in the clear. Team Butcher will take the elevator up, find Ryan Butcher on 99, and extract him. Butcher has the Becca and Anomaly files on his phone, and hopefully that will be more than enough to make Ryan go willingly.” 

Ben tensed, and when She spoke her fingers were tapping against his arm. “And if it’s not?” 

“Then Frenchie creates the diversion, and we leave empty handed.” 

She nodded slowly, examining the blueprints. “Frenchie?” 

“Oui?” 

“What exactly is your diversion?” 

“I have detested the billboard of Firecracker in the Times Square for several months. She is dead, she will not miss it.” The French Prick beamed with pride, and She glanced up with a frown. 

“Times Square?” 

“It will be controlled, Madame.” The French Prick assured Her, shooting Ben quick pussy glances. “Only just enough.” 

She nodded, narrowing her eyes back on the blueprint. “We’re taking two separate cars, right?” When nobody answered, She looked up. “Mallory?”

“You’ll all be transported in the van.” Mallory frowned. “It’s more effective-“ 

“No,” She shook her head, attention returning down once more. “It’s more dangerous. We’re already risking a lot by Annie coming with Ben and I. We can’t also have one group unable to make a quick getaway.” 

“I suppose,” Mallory’s lips drew in a thin line. “Butcher could take his car-“ 

“We’ll take Butcher’s car.” She tapped the blueprint, near the door. “There’s cameras. If they see Butcher’s car, they’ll know something’s up. You have,” She looked up, scanning the table with sharp eyes. “You’ve taken care of the cameras in the building. Right?” 

“We’ll shoot them as we go,” Butcher grunted, and She gaped at him. 

“As you fucking go?” 

“They won’t be entering the tower until after Homelander leaves it.” Annie leaned across Ben and Hughie to look at Her. “And they won’t be wandering. It’ll be fine.” 

“Speaking of Homelander,” Mallory crossed her arms. “Starlight, Campbell, Soldier Boy, and the Anomaly will,” she sighed. “Take Butcher’s car to the Starlight Fund. From there, Soldier Boy will call Homelander with Campbell’s phone. Once Homelander arrives, Starlight will alert Team Butcher, and they’ll begin. Do not-“ Butcher received a withering look. “Proceed with the extraction until Team Starlight has given the green light. Understood?” 

Butcher shrugged. “We’ll see.” 

“Butcher-“ 

“We’re playin real bloody fast and loose with a lot of this, Grace.” Butcher snapped. “I’d be more fuckin worried about what we’ll do if Homelander doesn’t take his bait.” 

Everyone looked at Her, still frowning at the blueprints. Ben squeezed her thigh lightly, and she glanced up at him a frown. “What-“ 

“What’s your plan, Love,” Butcher drawled. “For if Homelander don’t fall into your trap that easy.” 

She swallowed, and Ben could hear the rapid beat of her heart. “He will.”

Her voice was steady, every part of her controlled, but under the table her leg pressed into Ben’s, and her hand drummed against his leg. Ben grabbed it, stilling her movement, and She glanced at him.

You’re going to be fine, he glared at Her. This is going to fucking work, and you’ll be fine.

She smiled at him with sad fucking eyes that carved something open in Ben’s chest. I know. She tilted her head at him. And I thought you hated this plan.

I do. Ben scowled. I fucking loathe this stupid goddamn plan. But it will work, and tonight I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll stop making such fucking idiotic plans. 

She pouted at him. But making idiotic plans is one of my best qualities. 

Ben rolled his eyes. I’m well fucking aware of your best qualities. That’s not one of them. 

Really, She gave him a flat look. Because I think it’s in the top three. It’s stupid plans, my tits, and my ability to put up with your shit. 

Smartass, Ben bumped his knee with hers, grinning down at Her. You’re not even fucking close. 

Not even the tits?

Your pussy is better, Ben winked at Her. Trust me, Sunshine. You’ve got the best pussy I’ve ever fucking seen. 

She flushed, wrinkling her nose at him. Have you been ranking all the pussies you’ve seen? 

Had to pass the damn time somehow. 

I feel like there had to be other options. 

Maybe, Ben shrugged. But I don’t really give a shit. And now I can be fucking certain when I say your pussy is my favorite. 

What are my best qualities, if you’re such an expert? She was watching Ben carefully, and he almost scoffed at how nervous she looked. Like he might not be able to give an answer. Ben could list Her best qualities for fucking years, if someone let him. 

You’re a goddamn genius. You’re fucking kind, kinder than you should be. And you’ve got the best fucking pussy of all time. 

I don’t think I’m kind, She frowned, and that definitely made Ben scoff. 

You’re the kindest person I know. It’s fucking annoying. Ben studied Her soft, tight features. She didn’t believe him. You’re not nice, Sunshine. You’ve got a smart fucking mouth and a damn attitude. But you’re kind. 

She nodded slowly. And you don’t hate that? 

Ben blinked at Her. Why the fuck would I hate that. 

Kind people are pussies, Ben. 

Nice people are pussies, He glared Her name at her perfect face, watching him intently. They’re weak, lying, insufferable fucking holier-than-thou assholes. You’re not any of that. 

She smiled at him, without teeth but real. That was her real, comfortable smile that made the Thing so fucking loud. You’re not a pussy either. 

I fucking know that. He was trying to glare at her, but it wasn’t damn working. Not when She was smiling at him like that, and that deep, infinite thing in her eyes was so clear. Aimed at him. And the Thing had to fucking tell Her something- 

Butcher coughed, and Ben realized the whole fucking Pussy Brigade was staring at them. “You twats paying attention?” 

“Does it fucking matter if we are?” Ben drawled. “It’s her damn plan, and I know everything I’ve got to do. Not our fucking fault you dumbasses need a whole meeting.” 

“Then could you please repeat your instructions, Soldier Boy?” Mallory glared at him. “For our own peace of mind?” 

Ben held Mallory’s glare with his own. This was a fucking waste of time. “Go to the Starlight Fund, call Homelander, distract the pussy, then leave.” Protect Her. Don’t let her out of your sight, or Homelander within a fucking arms reach of her. Keep Her safe, at any fucking cost. 

“With whose phone, Gov?” Butcher sneered, and Ben rolled his eyes. 

“Mine, you fucking-“ 

Butcher made a loud buzzer sound. “Afraid that ain’t the right answer. Would you like to try again for double Jeopardy?” 

“That’s not how fucking Jeopardy works.” MM frowned, and Butcher shot him a glare. 

“That ain’t the fuckin point, MM. The cunt got it wrong-“ 

“Whose fucking phone should I damn use then?” Ben snapped. There would be time for Butcher’s fucking bitching later, right now Ben’s patience was about to fucking snap. This needed to be done. “Mine works fucking fine-“ 

“Your phone is a registered CIA number,” Hughie looked at Ben nervously as he explained. “Mine isn’t. Vought won’t take a CIA call, it’ll get screened on the first ring. And they probably won’t take a call from Annie, either. If we call the tower with my number we’ll get past the first checkpoint, and then you speaking will get us to Homelander.” 

This shit wasn’t worth arguing about. It was barely worth fucking talking about. “Fine. Are we actually going to do this, or just goddamn sit here like a bunch of assholes.” 

“We were just waiting on you and the missus to rejoin us, Gov.” Butcher sneered. “Everyone’s been clear for a hot fucking minute while you twats were eye-fucking.” 

Ben glowered at him, clenching his fist under the table. When this was over, Ben was going to kill him. It was going to be so fucking satisfying, and then he’d run away with Her to goddamn Rome. But this had to be finished first. 

As everyone started to filter out—tight nods and wishes of good luck being exchanged—Ben stayed at Her side. She was still looking at the blueprints, frowning as her eyes scanned slowly over the paper right until Mallory pulled it away. She started to stand, and Ben wrapped an arm around Her waist. Keeping her steady and at his side. 

“Team Starlight will leave first,” Mallory's voice was curt as she nodded at Annie. “Butcher-“ 

Hughie let out a high yelp as Butcher chucked the keys at him. Somehow, the pussy managed to catch them. 

“Lad, if you wreck my car, you’re buyin me a new one.” 

“Um, yeah. Okay.” Hughie nodded nervously. “Do I have to drive-“ 

“Yes, and any of those cunts bloody touch the wheel-“ 

“Your car will be fine Butcher.” Annie cut him off with a glare. “It’s just a car.” 

Butcher looked like he might kill her, but MM cut off any violence—fucking unfortunate, because Annie probably would’ve killed Butcher and then Ben wouldn’t have to—with a snap of, “We don’t got time to waste on this shit. The kid will drive, Butcher, and your car will live. Let’s fucking move.” 

Ben held Her against him out of the building, helping her into the backseat of Butcher’s car and pulling her back into his chest when he sat at her side. She let him, leaning against his body and burying Her face in his shoulder as her heart became uneven. Not fast, but arhythmic. Her breathing was controlled, steady against Ben’s skin, but her heart betrayed the fear in her. Ben fucking hated this. He hated that she was doing this to herself. He hated that the only thing he could really do about it was hold her, at least until it was over and he could kiss and fuck all the worries out of Her perfect brain. 

He could try to distract Her. He wasn’t sure it would work, not when she was hugging him so tight and so fucking afraid, but goddamnit he had to do something. He couldn’t just fucking sit here, in the back of Butcher stupid car, and do fucking nothing like a fucking weak goddamn pussy. 

Ben squeezed her against him once, and She hummed into his body. Not looking up at him, or speaking. So Ben turned forward, attempting a different strategy. 

“What the fuck were you pussies talking about in the kitchen?” Ben grunted, and Annie sighed in the shotgun seat. 

“It’s not that important.” 

Ben rolled his eyes. “So you weren’t trying to goddamn separate us?” 

Annie shot Hughie a glare, the kid’s knuckles white on the steering wheel. “Hughie, did you-“ 

“Kimiko told us,” She turned slightly in Ben’s hold, voice soft. “And they didn’t separate us, Ben. Don’t be an ass.” 

He glared at Her. “I’m not being a fucking ass-“ 

“Benjamin.” She wrinkled her nose at him, and Ben felt a little lighter. She was pushing back at him, she was less afraid, and that’s all he could fucking ask for. “Shut up.” 

“Uh,” Hughie glanced at them in the rearview mirror. “Are you, is he-“ 

“He’s fine.” She slapped Ben arm, and he scoffed. “Just grumpy.” 

“I’m not goddamn grumpy.“ Ben muttered. “I’m just trying to get some fucking answers. Figure out what shit they were saying about us behind our fucking backs.” 

“It’s really not that interesting,” Annie shrugged. “Mallory said it would be better to take you with Butcher. MM said it would be worse. Butcher and I voted with MM, and that was it.” 

She frowned, twisting around fully to look at Annie. “Butcher voted with MM?” 

Annie nodded, and She looked up at Ben. That’s weird right? I’m not insane? 

No, it’s fucking weird. Ben glared at Annie, and said aloud, “The fuck did he do that for.” 

“I don’t know,” Annie turned to look back at them. “I mean, would you rather he hadn’t?” 

“It’s just, it’s surprising.” She shrugged. “He hates us.” 

“I don’t think he hates you,” Hughie said slowly. “Butcher doesn’t like being wrong. Or challenged. You,” he said Her name, nodding to Her in the mirror. “Specifically, do both. I think when we found you he thought you’d be like either Annie or Maeve, and you weren’t.” 

“Annie or Maeve?” She gave Ben a confused look, and he shrugged. He didn’t have a fucking clue what Hughie was talking about, or how anyone could possibly be annoyed by Her not being Annie or Maeve. She was fucking perfect, and Butcher was lucky to be damn graced with her presence. 

“Like, completely against everything he does or completely for it.” Hughie looked to Annie for help. “Right?”

“I mean,” Annie frowned, nodding. “I guess. None of us were sure what we were looking for with you. Maeve said you were powerful, and hated Homelander. We all kind of took that as you’d been burned by Vought or something, not what, what actually happened.”

“And Butcher kind of got an idea that you’d be just, easy to work with. And after we did find you, I think he was sure you’d just be willing to do whatever he wanted to kill Homelander. And you weren’t.” Hughie shook his head, hands tapping on the wheel. “So I don’t think he hates you. I think he just doesn’t like that you’re um, not what he expected.” 

That was completely fucking insane to Ben. She wasn’t what anyone expected, that was one of the best damn things about Her. She was too damn forgiving and kind, but still a clever, vindictive woman who never fucking backed down. She didn’t ride any sort of fucking high horse, but also cared about people. It would be fucking annoying and insufferable if She wasn’t so fucking genuine about it. If her money didn’t live in her pretty fucking mouth when she said she’d do whatever it takes and understood what that meant for Her. She wasn’t easy to work with, not by a fucking long shot, but that was because she was goddamn resolved, so certain of what She thought had to be done and what She deemed unnecessary. She was always fucking right, she never fully broke, she never fucking faltered, and the whole goddamn world was better for it. 

“So he, he voted in our favor?” She was still looking at Annie, head tilted. “No conditions?” 

Annie shook her head. “I voted with MM, and he followed. Told Mallory he was with us.” 

She nodded, and gave a small sound of agreement. Even as he wanted a fucking reason—for Butcher’s goddamn attitude and cruelty to her, for why’d this was where he backed them up—Ben decided he would drop it for now, no how much this all made him want to pummel Butcher into the curb. There would be time for that later, now was about keeping Her here. With him. 

Ben kissed Her shoulder, because he fucking wanted to, he could, and she was starting to look damn sad again. She leaned her head back into Ben, and smiled up at him. Hi. 

How fucking far is this place. Ben met Her gaze, fighting his mouth tugging upwards to return her smile. This was serious. Fucking serious. He had to glare so She knew that. We’ve been driving for a million damn years. 

It’s been twenty minutes, Benjamin. We’ll be there soon. She gave him a teasing grin. You fucking toddler. 

Ben rolled his eyes. I am not a fucking toddler. I’m a fucking grown man, who’s doesn’t have the goddamn time for this shit. 

Really. She raised her brows, still grinning. It was getting a lot fucking harder to not grin back at Her. We have the same schedule, and I’ve got time for it. 

No you don’t. He winked at Her, and knew she figured out where he was headed when her finger dug into his arm and her face flushed. I’ve set aside our whole night to fuck you. And I’d like to get started as soon as goddamn possible. 

She stuck her tongue out at him, and Ben stopped trying to fight his smile. Cunt. 

Brat. He kissed her, pulling her fully into his lap and leaning over her body. She smiled against Ben’s lips, making a small sound from her throat, and the Thing was going to fucking explode and kill him. The only way out was to tell Her. Ben still wasn’t sure what the fuck the Thing thought he needed to say, but he was positive it was something for Her. Absolutely fucking certain that She needed to know that Ben- 

The car halted, the rumble of the engine going dead, and She pulled away from Ben to look around. 

“We’re here?” 

Hughie nodded, shoving the keys in his pocket. “Is everyone, uh, I guess ready?” 

“As we can be,” Annie unbuckled herself, taking a deep breath. “We should go inside. Fast.” 

She nodded, Her hands on Ben’s arm growing heated. Searing into his skin, smoke curling up into the air. 

Ben said Her name lowly, because this needed to be aloud. She needed to hear him. 

She looked up at him, her small smile not reaching her eyes. “Ben.” 

“You’re going to be fucking fine.” Ben hissed, turning Her body in his arms so she faced him fully. “I’m not going to leave your side. I’m not going to let him fucking near you. And then we’ll go home.” 

“I know,” She leaned forward, kissing him so fucking sweetly, pressing Her forehead to his. “I trust you.” 

As She started to slide out of the car, every part of Ben was telling him to grab her. To pull her back against him, commender a plane from any shitty fucking cargo airport, and leave. Get the fuck out now. The only thing that kept him from giving in was the knowledge that she’d hate him. She’d never fucking forgive him for making her leave, she’d never damn speak to him again, and Ben didn’t think he could live with that. He didn’t think that he could live without Her. He honestly wasn’t sure how he had lived without her before. He’d never needed someone like this, he’d never needed fucking anything before. He’d never cared so much what someone else thought, been so willing to do anything for just one person. One perfect fucking person. Ben had lived a whole lifetime, and then some, alone. And he’d been content. Not happy, but content. Now he was happy. Now he had Her, and she was perfect, and he never wanted to go back to just content. 

So he followed Her out of the car, shield in his hand. He’d follow her anywhere. Out of a car was barely anything when he’d move mountains and burn cities to follow her. Actually, he’d clear the cities first, then burn them. Ben was pretty certain She’d be pissed about him burning a city with people in it. Looking down at Her—beautiful and pulling his arm over her before he was at full height—Ben decided he’d probably follow her even if she was pissed. She’d probably be justified anyways, as she was rarely genuinely pissed at Ben anymore, so he’d always fix whatever he did and keep following Her. Right into hellfire, where he’d still be happy, because She’d be with him. 

The Starlight Fund was a completely desecrated fucking shithole. There was a truly fucking terrible amount of pro-Homelander graffiti—one even depicting every member of the Seven shitting on a group of Starlighters—and Ben was pretty goddamn sure the scraping he was hearing was rats. 

“This is gross,” She muttered at his side, and he snorted. 

“Lot of fucking doodles on the walls,” Ben pulled Her closer into him, speaking into her ear. “That one,” he pointed to a drawing of Fish-Boy ripping his shirt off to display disgustingly ripped gills. “Is my favorite.” 

She hummed. “Because of the gills, or the muscles?” 

“Because he looks like he just shat his damn pants.” 

She gave a small laugh, and Ben wished this could be it. That they had come here to make fun of something stupid and now they were leaving. But Hughie turned around, offering Ben his phone with a shaking hand, and Ben had to set his shield down and take it. Had to feel Her tense again, and hear her chew her lip as Ben frowned at the screen. 

“I already entered the number,” Hughie rubbed the back of his next, words soft and nervous. Part of Ben wanted to hit the idiot, because it wasn’t fucking Hughie who was in danger. If She could hold herself together, this fucking pussy should be able to as well. But Ben just grunted—hitting Hughie wouldn’t really help anything, and She’d probably just get more tense—and let him continue. “You just have to call it. Say you’re, uh, you, and ask to speak to Homelander.” 

“And no fighting, once he gets here.” Annie added. “We’re just distracting him. We can’t fight him, not now.” 

“Why the fuck not,” Ben scowled. “We’d be doing the world a damn favor, killing him-“ 

“He might leave,” She said, finger’s tapping against Ben’s own. “He might just blast into the air and go find Ryan and this would’ve been for nothing. Ben,” She looked up at him, eyes desperate. “Don’t fight him. Promise you won’t fight him.”

“Fine.” 

“Ben-“ 

“I swear I won’t kill Homelander right now, as much as he fucking deserves it.” Ben grunted, still looking at Her. “This is fucking stupid.” 

“I know,” She gave him a tight smile. “Thank you for doing it anyway.” 

“If shit starts to even look like it’s headed south-“ 

“Then we can leave and you can tell me about how you were right for a whole decade.” 

Ben nodded, still holding Her gaze. In Rome? 

In Rome, She squeezed his hand over her body. And you can fuck me every day for that decade as well. And the one after it. 

Ben kissed Her, long and slow, not giving a fuck that Hughie and Annie were watching, or that they were surrounded by rats, or that the awful graffiti and awareness of Homelander arriving soon was hanging over their heads. He kissed her like he had all the time in the world. 

“I’m ready,” She whispered against him. “I’ll be okay.” 

He didn’t move for a second, just sharing Her breath. But she pulled back first with a deep sigh and buried Her face into Ben’s chest, arms wrapped around him. Waiting. 

Ben called the number, and it picked up on the third ring. 

An overly sweet woman’s voice echoed through the room. “Thank you for calling Vought International’s Crime Tip Line! All of our operators are currently busy, please stay on the line until one becomes available! You are seventh in line.” 

The voice was sounded fucking robotic when it had said seventh, and Ben wasn’t sure that the lady had been real either. “What the fuck was that.” 

Annie sighed. “We’re on hold.” 

“The tip line?” She twisted around, still leaning against Ben, to give Hughie an exasperated look. “Really?” 

“I couldn’t find Ashely’s phone number,” Hughie muttered. “Apparently she kept getting protest calls from Starlighters, and it overwhelmed their servers.” 

“Mallory couldn’t get it?” 

“It’s being kept secret. We’d have to do a freedom of information request, and that would’ve tipped them off.” 

“Please stay on the line, your call is very important to us. You are sixth in line.” The voice disappeared again, returning so sort of too-happy fucking elevator music. She sighed, slumping slightly against Ben.  

“I guess we’re waiting.” 

It took fifteen fucking minutes. Ben’s shield was still on the floor, and he’d pick it up when he had to but right now was about holding Her properly. At some point Butcher called to yell about where the bloody hell the signal was, and Annie had to explain what was happening. Butcher called them fucking cunt idiots, and hung up. She stayed against Ben the whole time, tapping against his arm over Her stomach, staring into the distance. When that goddamn music finally came to an abrupt halt the whole room froze, Hughie and Annie looking up from where they’d been sitting against the wall. 

“Thank you for calling Vought’s crime tip line, my name is Gavin. How can I be of service.” “I’m Soldier Boy,” Ben said bluntly, ignoring Her flat look of Really, Ben? “I want to speak with Homelander.” 

“Sir, this line is not a joke. Our policy requires me to report prank calls as crimes themselves-“ 

“This isn’t a goddamn prank.” Ben hissed. “I am Soldier Boy. I need to fucking speak to Homelander now, and if you report me as a crime I will find you and fucking kill you.” 

“Sir, may I please have your location-“ 

She had turned to stand in front of Ben, tugging his arm, pointing a finger to herself. Me. She gave him an urgent look. Say you have me. Use my supe name. And my real name. 

“I have the Anomaly.” This was fucking annoying, they shouldn’t be doubting him. He grunted Her full name, and she nodded at him. “She’s with me. And I want to fucking talk to Homelander. Now.” 

The line was silent. Ben glared at Her. That didn’t fucking work. 

She shook Her head. Wait for it. 

The line clicked, and a new voice—less bored and uninterested and a lot more fearful—spoke through the speaker. “This is Ashley Barrett, CEO of Vought International. I understand you’re claiming to be Soldier Boy?” 

“I fucking am Soldier Boy. Let me fucking speak to Homelander now.” 

The line was quiet again. “And you have her?” 

“Christ on a cross, fucking yes.” Ben scowled at Her. This is goddamn stupid. 

She shrugged. I’m just impressed you haven’t totally crushed the phone yet. 

Ben looked back to his hand, and found that his grip on Hughie’s phone was starting to cause cracks to form in the screen. He glared at Her. Shut up. 

The line clicked again, and everyone froze. Her heart was going to push out of her chest, and when the static sounded again Ben wasn’t sure it was even beating anymore. 

“Soldier Boy.” Homelander’s voice was so fucking weak. Even crackling through the phone and making Her freeze, he was a fucking pathetic pussy. “Is she really there? With you?” 

Ben looked at Her, face full of goddamn fear. He could stop this. Ben could hang up and Homelander would never have to step foot near Her again. She wouldn’t have to be afraid ever again, because Ben would take her as far away as he fucking could, and She’d be safe. 

He’d never hated anything more than having to say, “Yes.” 

“I want to talk to her.” Homelander snapped. “Give me to her. Now.”

She extended her hand, and blinked at Ben once. I’ll be fine.

It was a bold faced fucking lie. Her heart was going a goddamn mile a minute, and her face was blank, eyes glazed slightly. 

Ben glowered at Her. If anything goes wrong, if he say one fucking thing out of damn line, we’re leaving. 

Her smile didn’t meet her eyes. It was barely a smile, closer to a sad, anxious grimace with upturned lips. I know. Then her face grew gentle, with adoration painting her every feature. For him. Something unending and almost dangerous crossed Her eyes, and Ben couldn’t look away from her. I trust you. 

Ben nodded. You burn, I burn. It wasn’t what the Thing wanted Ben to tell her, but it was close. Better than telling Her nothing. 

You burn, I burn. She wrapped her hand around the phone, taking it from Ben as he picked up his shield. Let’s fucking do this. 

“If someone doesn’t say something-“ 

“Homelander,” Her voice was stronger than Ben expected. Her face was painfully empty—every piece of light in her gone as she became hollow—but her voice was even and controlled. “It’s me.” 

Homelander breathed Her name, and Ben’s blood went cold. He shouldn’t be allowed to say Her name. Not fucking ever, not like that. “Where the fuck are you. What have they done to you? Why have you been hiding-“ 

“I’m okay.” She wouldn’t look at Ben, gaze fixed on the floor. Fucking empty. “They haven’t hurt me. Just, I wasn’t allowed to see you. Or talk to you. They said just this once.” 

“Tell me where the fuck they’re keeping you,” Homelander hissed Her name. Ben was pretty sure she was going to throw up. “I’ll come find you, you can come home, and we’ll be together.” 

“I can’t,” She whispered, fingers starting to curl with smoke. “They’ll get mad-“ 

“So I’ll fucking kill them! I can do whatever I want, and it’s not like people will miss them! Just tell me where you are and I’ll come save you.” 

They needed to leave, right now. Her face was bloodless, Her breaths were mechanical, and Ben knew they needed to leave. She shouldn’t be doing this, she shouldn’t have to do anything for these fucking pussies, they should just fucking leave- 

Homelander said Her name again, and his voice had gone cold. “If you don’t tell me where you are, I’ll find your pretty little sister and have her tell me. I know they’ve been making you hide. I know they’ve been hurting you. And if your sister loves you half as much as I do, she’ll want you to come back to me. Where you’re safe.”

Her eyes snapped up to Ben’s. She wasn’t trying to tell him anything, just looking at him. Her brain was turning, spinning, moving faster and faster with Her heart. Trying to find something, somewhere, that Ben didn’t understand. A way out, a way forward, some sort of fucking plan to get through this. He’d promised he’d let Her do this. No matter how much he hated it, Ben had swore. She’d do what she needed to do, and—as long as Homelander never fucking touched Her again—he’d stand with her as she did. 

Ben’s jaw clenched, and he held her gaze. I’m here. I’m right fucking here. 

There was more he needed to say. There was so much fucking more Ben needed to tell Her. But that was enough, because She nodded. I know. 

“They took me to the Starlight Fund-“ The words had barely left Her mouth when the line clicked dead. The room was silent, so painfully fucking silent, and She was staring at Ben. He needed to tell Her now, the Thing needed to get its fucking shit together and be damn clear about what it fucking was Ben needed to tell Her, so he could tell Her now- 

The roof crashed open, and Homelander dropped into the middle of the room. Cape and suit and so fucking weak. 

He breathed Her name, not even looking around the rest of the fucking room. “I fucking found you.”

Ben almost scoffed. Homelander hadn’t fucking found Her. She’d goddamn called him. Told him where she was. He must have made some sort of sound, because cold blue eyes shot to him.

“Soldier Boy. Thank you for bringing Her back to me.” 

Never in his fucking life had Ben hated someone more. She wouldn’t look at him, staring at Homelander and taking shallow breaths. Not touching Ben. Her back was too straight, all the smoke was gone from Her body, and Ben couldn’t hear Her heart. Like it has just fucking stopped.

“Homelander,” Annie stood up from the wall, a truly violent glare on Her face. It almost made Ben respect her, the contempt with which she spoke and the loathing in her eyes. “You’re not taking her. You can talk. That’s it.” 

“Oh, shut up, you boring fucking Girl Scout.” Homelander dismissed Annie with a hand, still not looking away from Her and Ben. “This is a family matter, you and Campbell can go fuck in a closet for all I care.” 

“We’re not going anywhere-“ 

“I don’t care,” Homelander finally shot Annie a bored glare. “But if you even try and interfere with this, I’ll laser Campbell’s dick off. Now,” he looked back to Her. “Let’s go.” 

She shook her head. She wasn’t fucking breathing. “I- I cant-“ 

“Yes you fucking can,” Homelander hissed. “You’re not mortal anymore, you’re a god like me. None of these weaklings could stop us. Soldier Boy,” he jerked his head at Ben. “Could even come with us. We could be a family.” 

“I’m not going fucking anywhere with you,” Ben could hear the drums. Distant, in his control, but building in time with his heart. “And we are not a fucking family.” 

“But you’re my father,” Homelander shook his head—as if he thought Ben could forget—and whined like a pathetic fucking child. “Don’t you want to meet your grandson? Be there for the birth of our,” he gestured to Her, and Ben was going to rip his fucking hand off. ”Next child? You’d never have to miss anything again. We’d be together.” 

“Homelander,” She was whispering, she was afraid, and Ben couldn’t do more than press his foot into Hers. Show Her he was there. He wasn’t going fucking anywhere. Slowly, her breathing became audible again—even if she remained frozen—and Ben didn’t take his eyes off Homelander. “Please. I just want to talk.” 

“We can talk at home.” Homelander took a step forward, and She flinched. 

“No. Please, I don’t-“ 

“What have they been telling you,” Homelander whirled on Annie and Hughie. “Have you been turning her against me? Poisoning her damn brain against me?” 

“They haven’t,” She pleaded, and that was it. Ben took a long step forward, until he was right at Her side. Homelander was too close, she was fucking breaking, and he’d stay right here until this was over. Then he’d hold Her until she smiled again, even if it took a hundred fucking years. But Homelander wasn’t going to make Her weak. Nobody was allowed to make Her weak, not as long as Ben was fucking alive. “Homelander, I just want to talk-“ 

“Fine,” he turned back to Her, face tight and furious. Glancing once at Ben, now right at Her side, before continuing. “Let’s talk. You’ve been hiding. I’ve been looking for you, and you’ve been hiding from me. They-“ a gloved hand pointed to Annie and Hughie. “Have been hiding you from me. It’s time to be a big girl and stop hiding. Time to come home so I don’t have to keep fucking cleaning up bodies while I look for you.” 

She swallowed. “Bodies?" 

“None of the workers at Tek Knight’s stupid fucking sex club would tell me where you went, so they all had to die. A bunch of fucking Firecracker supporters were demanding justice, so I had to kill them too.” 

“No-“ 

“Please,” Homelander rolled his eyes, taking another step. “It was for you. To protect you. They wanted to fucking draw and quarter you and I stopped them! I saved you, again.” 

“You didn’t save me,” She whispered, taking an unsteady step back. “You hurt me. You-“ She was shaking her head, voice growing louder. “You hurt me. You hurt me.” She was screaming, and Ben had never heard a worse sound. It was shrill, and unsure, and fucking terrified. “You hurt me-“ 

“Oh, grow the fuck up,” Homelander sneered. “You were nothing. You had no one. You’re lucky I even fucking looked at you, let alone saw something of worth! I made you everything you deserved to be, I fucking trusted you with my heart, and you just pulled it out and stomped all over it!” 

“No-“ 

Homelander raised his hand, and She fell silent. She was never fucking silent. “But I forgive you. I’m going to be the bigger person, and forgive you. We both made mistakes, I’m not blameless here, and I forgive you. We’ll get through this,” Homelander lowered his hand for her to take, saying Her name. “We’ll get through this together.” 

“No.” She breathed out. “You hurt me. I’m not going anywhere with you. Ever.” 

Homelander scoffed. “Stop being a fucking whining child,” he said Her name again, and moved forward, She moved back, and Ben blocked Homelander in his path.

Homelander blinked, but the shock on his face barely lasted a second. “You could come with us, Soldier Boy. You don’t have to keep working with those fucking idiots,” he jerked his head to Annie and Hughie in the corner. “Working for William Butcher. He betrayed you before, and he’d do it again. I’d never betray you. I’d make you fucking proud. We just have to leave together.” 

“I will never,” Ben spat, fist clenching at his side. “Be fucking proud of a pussy like you. A weak, spineless, pathetic fucking excuse for a man.” 

Something like hurt flashed across Homelander’s face. He’d thought Ben would agree. He’d thought Ben would fucking hand Her over. Homelander had truly fucking believed that Ben would ever let him fucking near Her again. 

“Fine. Have it your way.” Homelander looked past Ben, and said Her name. “Let’s fucking go. Now.” 

She must have shaken her head—Ben couldn’t turn and look, he couldn’t take his eyes off Homelander for a fucking second—because Homelander’s jaw ticked. 

“Now.” 

“Never.” She hissed. “I’m never fucking going anywhere with you again.” 

“This is your last chance to do this easy.” Homelander snapped. “We can be civilized about this. It doesn’t have to go this way.” 

“You fucking heard the woman,” Ben sneered, and Homelander looked back to him. “No.” 

Homelander sighed. “I didn’t want to do this. I told Sage it wouldn’t be necessary.” 

“Sage?” Her voice shaking. Ben hated not touching her, he hated that Her heart still was weak in her chest, he hated all of this stupid fucking shit plan. 

“I’m going to have to tell her she was right,” Homelander continued, frowning into the air. “She’s such an annoying fucking bitch when she’s right. But if you’re not going to chose the easy way, then let’s do the fucking hard way.” 

Annie was moving slowly from the corner, keeping Hughie behind her. “What the hell are you talking about.” 

“In January, after we found out you,” he gestured at Her. “Were alive, Sage said we’d need a way to eliminate Soldier Boy. I told her that was dumb, that when it came time you’d come back to the right side, to me, your son, but she was a real fucking pest until I agreed to her stupid idea.” The pussy was fucking monologuing, glaring around the room with his hands on his hips and sharp, exasperated movements. “She scheduled the meeting, said it didn’t fucking matter what actually happened as long as she got what she needed. I said you wouldn’t be that stupid, but you were. You told her exactly what that French asshole was using to stop you from going all boom without your leash there with you, and she locked herself in a lab for a whole month. It was unbelievably inconvenient. When she finally came out, she gave me this.” Homelander reached back somewhere, pulling out a small, seemingly empty vial. “And said to use it first chance. I don’t want to use it, but,” he sighed, shaking his head. “If you won’t listen to reason, I have to.” 

“Homelander,” Annie hissed. “What’s in there. What the fuck are you going to do-“ 

“Gas. It’s fucking gas. I was getting there.” Homelander rolled his eyes at Ben. “Women. Always so pushy.” 

The drums were louder. Homelander was only a half step from Ben. Holding gas. His head was pounding, hitting only a half-beat out of time with Ben’s heart. Over the rush of blood in his ears—vision stark and violent and red—Ben could barely hear Her speak. It was under her breath, and barely audible regardless. 

“No.” 

Homelander ignored Her, giving Ben a toothy, awful fucking smile. “Well, I guess I’ll see you in,” he paused, glancing back down at the vial. “Three days? I honestly just couldn't pay attention to Sage’s fucking lecture.” 

Time moved slow. Homelander’s hand went to the vial, the drums were a fraction away from taking over but still too far, and She screamed. A high, loud, raw scream that tore through the world. It might have been a word, or Ben’s name, but it didn’t matter because it was Her. Screaming, fucking breaking. 

The world broke with Her, and something exploded. A bone-rattling sound of destruction echoed through Ben, through Homelander, through everything as the room was almost blindingly lit. The vial cracked open, glass melting in Homelander’s hand, but Ben didn’t pass out. A small wisp of steam pushed into the air, Ben felt faint, and then it was gone. For a split second he could see all of Homelander’s face, with slight wrinkles and lines and wide eyes. Afraid. Homelander was afraid. Frozen, with a parted mouth and a slack face of terror, his gaze fixated just beyond Ben. 

At Her. 

Homelander was blasted backwards—fire arcing through the air and into his chest—and right through the dust-covered, paint-peeling wall. The building rumbled, the air was waving around Ben, and the whole world was electric. He didn’t have to turn to know it was Her. She was burning, and the whole world was singing for Her. It was alive, the air crackling and everything illuminated for Her. 

Ben had never seen anything like Her. All these fucking heroes pranced around like dancing fucking monkey’s, bragging about god-like power and being chosen. Homelander called himself a god. Said nobody was like him, nobody was as powerful as he was. Moaned about how nobody was his equal, how even Ben only just matched his power. Ben could wipe out Homelander’s powers, Homelander could knock out Ben, Ben could punch him and make him bleed and Homelander could leave a temporary cut on Ben’s skin. They could keep trading blows, measuring their dicks, and stand around all fucking day to argue like pussies about who was more powerful. 

Or they could just look at Her. 

Because She was a fucking god. 

Bathed in white flames tinted purple, floating off the ground, and burning. This wasn’t the bomb in Ben’s chest, running through her body like electricity in a wire. This wasn’t heat that lived in Homelander’s eyes, focused and hot but limited. This fire, bright and hot like a hurricane, ripping through the world and everything between it, was Her. Only Her. It wasn’t nuclear, or artificial, or confined. It was wild and feral and pure fucking power. Her. 

Ben had to fucking move. 

“Go!” He shouted the order to Annie and Hughie, still pressed against the wall. “Fucking move! Go!” 

Annie nodded, grabbing Hughie arm and pulling him with her to the exit. They’d start the car, but they wouldn’t leave Her. They might leave Ben, but they wouldn’t leave Her. Nobody with a heart would leave Her. Not ever, not here. Not with Homelander. 

And Ben had to fucking get Her out. Fast. 

Homelander was staggering to his feet—a few yards from the building in the broad daylight—and She had hurt him. She’d fucking marred him. Blond hair was tinted black with ash, one blue eye was milky, and his cruel face was half-melted. Twisted with scars and fucking hideous. 

And She wasn’t done.

She had landed on the ground and shrugged off her jacket—whole body still alight as the world bent and burned around her—before vaulting past Ben, out into the street. He roared Her name after her, but she didn’t look back. Homelander was almost fully stable, touching a hand to where She’d hit him, and Ben had to fucking go.

He followed Her in long, sprinting bounds, and reached them just before Her fist landed. Right on Homelander’s burns, blasting him back another twenty fucking feet. 

Christ, She was fucking perfect. 

Ben reached Her, grabbing her arms and ignoring the pain of the fire against his skin. He healed fast—faster than Homelander—and in the adrenaline he wasn’t able to be certain, but the flames felt duller than usual on his hands. Not meant to hurt him. 

He hissed Her name, trying to pull her with him. Back to the car. “We’ve got to go, right fucking now.”

She yanked Her arm from his grip. “Ryan’s not out.” 

“Ryan?” Ben gaped at Her. “What the fuck-“ 

“The signal didn’t go off. Everyone’s still in the tower. If we leave he goes back to the tower, and we’re assfucked.” 

“I don’t give a shit-“ 

“Ben,” She grabbed his face between Her burning hands, and Ben was goddamn sure it should’ve hurt. But it didn’t, it just felt warm. “This is it. This is what I need to do. And I’m fucking doing it.” 

He couldn’t stop Her. She wasn’t breaking anymore, she wasn’t in danger now—not like She had been before—and Ben was never going to fucking leave Her. “You burn, I burn.” 

She nodded. “Let’s fucking burn.” 

Ben needed to tell Her. She was dropping her arms, turning away, and he needed to tell Her. He was so fucking close to knowing, to being able to recognize that- 

Homelander blasted forward, landing only a few feet from Her and Ben. His words were low, cold. Angry. “You fucking bitch. We’re going to have a very long conversation later about trust-“ 

“Shut the fuck up.” Ben pulled out his gun and shot Homelander right in the fucking mouth. 

It didn’t kill him—they weren’t that lucky—but it worked goddamn wonders in making his words die in his throat. In giving Ben a chance to punch him in the throat, making him cough the bullet out and giving Her a chance to kick him square in the chest. It was a smooth hit, not strong but wrapped in fire that seared right through Homelander’s stupid fucking suit. Ben slammed the blunt end of his shield right into the exposed skin and revered in the sickly crunch of its contact. 

Homelander roared as his eyes began to grow red, aimed at Her, and Ben’s fist was just fucking fast enough to clock Homelander’s jaw. Hard enough to turn his head, to make the laser cut through the air into a glass building. 

She realized it at the same time Ben did, exchanging a simultaneous look of Fuck. We’re outside. 

No casualties, She narrowed her eyes at him. I back Homelander up. You blast him. 

Ben frowned, ducking under a weak punch, thrown by Homelander at what he imagined was supposed to be Ben’s face. You said not now. He didn’t know why the fuck he was arguing with Her. This wasn’t something at all damn worth it. But Ben still waited for Her answer, and the moment She gave the clear, he was going to fucking kill this pussy. 

We’re improvising, Benjamin. Her face was set, determined. Ready? 

Ben nodded, and turning to see Homelander right in his fucking face. Up close, even as the lasers built in Homelander’s eyes, the state of his wound was fucking disgusting. 

“I fucking-“ 

There was no chance to find out exactly what Homelander was fucking, because She dove at him—face wrathful, a fucking inferno—and they went flying through the air. Over the street, away from the gathered pedestrians, onto the manicured lawn of Vought Tower. People were screaming, scrambling away, and those already on the sidelines were watching through phones, flinching as Ben stalked past them. She could hold Her own, but he needed to get there. Get to Her. 

The grass of the lawn was smoking, and Ben felt like he was walking through a goddamn swamp as he approached them. She had twisted around—onto Homelander’s back with Her arms locked around his throat—and was growing brighter and brighter as his bellows turned strangled and choked. The pussy still had to fucking breathe like anyone else, but smoke was curling into his lungs as Her arms burned through his throat. 

Good. 

The drums were back, building and building, and light was starting to shine in Ben’s chest. He had a shot. A clear fucking shot. He’d hit Her, but she’d be fine, and then she’d be safe forever. 

Any hesitation—weak and fearful for Her at the top of Ben’s chest—was killed when She looked at him. 

Do it. 

The drums fell into time, and Ben’s vision went white. Homelander’s roar sounded through the air, and the world became something far away as the bomb went off. Ripping through Ben’s chest with a vengeance, through the air with an atomic boom. 

When the world became clear, Homelander wasn’t ash or a mortal body on the floor. He was gone. They were both gone. 

Ben screamed Her name. It wasn’t a roar, or a bellow, or a growl, or anything other than a scream. Where the fuck did She go. Why wasn’t She here, with him. Ben had failed Her, he had fucking failed her, and he couldn’t hear Her heart or see her beautiful face and where the goddamn fucking hell was She-

He could hear his name. Her voice, carried on the wind, was yelling his name. Ben looked up, just in time to see Her falling from the sky, a quickly dying comet, just a few feet to his left. 

Ben caught Her, shield clattering to the ground. He’d always fucking catch Her. And when their bodies collided, Ben could feel Her. Afraid. Every fiber and cell of Her body and mind, made of pure, unbridled fucking fear. Frozen fear, hollow and frigid in Her body. 

When She spoke, Her voice wasn’t full and furious anymore. “He took off, took me with him. I burned his dick and he dropped me, but he’ll be back-“ 

“Let’s fucking go,” Ben didn’t release Her, turning back to the Starlight Fund. If he was fast, fucking ran, they could get the fuck out now because Ben wasn’t going to survive another goddamn second of there being a chance he could lose Her. Not when he was certain this was Her fear in him. 

But She tugged at his arms, trying to get out of his hold. “Ryan, we need to make sure Ryan’s out-“ 

“No-“ 

“Ben, please.” She squeezed his bicep, and Ben looked down at Her. Safe, unharmed in his arms. He couldn’t fucking lose Her- “We just need to keep him occupied. I’ll be fine.” 

“You’re out of fire-“ 

“It’ll come back,” She didn’t sound sure. “I’m fine, he didn’t get me-“ 

“That was too fucking close-“ 

“Ben,” She was pleading, tugging at his shirt. “We have to. You promised-“ 

He snapped Her name. “You’re in danger-“ 

“I’ll go. I’ll go find them in the tower, and you keep Homelander here. Please. We don’t have time to argue-“ 

He wanted to tell Her no. Ben wanted to tell her that’s fucking insane, stay here, or don’t goddamn leave, don’t fucking go where I can’t follow you. But she was so fucking stubborn. It was one of the infinite things he loved about Her, but fuck it was pissing him off. She wouldn’t leave—be useless as She’d call it—and Ben couldn’t let Her fight Homelander. Not when he could feel her painful fear, and there wasn’t even smoke in the air. So he grunted, lowering Her onto the sidewalk. 

“Thank you,” She whispered, and that deep thing in Her eyes was back. It was in Ben, now, and it was peaceful and eternal in his brain. It was so strong, and wrapped around Ben’s every sense, making the world clear and everything alive. 

“Wait,” Ben grabbed Her arm, stopping her just a second. “Take this.”

She blinked at Ben’s gun, shoved into Her hand, before looking back to him with a nod. “I’ll see you soon.” 

“Stay safe.” He muttered, and She gave him a small smile. 

“I always do, Ben.” 

The thing he couldn’t understand inside of Her was bigger than the world. A world that, for a second, was just them. Her, fucking perfect, and Ben. With Her. When She started to walk away, into the tower, the whole world was going with Her. 

She looked back at him once, and Ben realized that the Thing had said it. Somewhere, when She had been in his arms, the Thing had found words and he couldn’t fucking remember what they were. He had to focus, to grab them back to him so he yell them after Her, so she could hear- 

Homelander dropped with a crack on the pavement, and the Thing’s moment of clarity was gone.

Now Ben had a fucking job to do. 

He was brutal. This wasn’t the fucking time to pull punches, to feel anything outside of hatred or a thirst for blood. Ben had to keep Homelander here, and he would. He would beat him fucking bloody until he was just a pathetic, whimpering fucking pile of bones and skin. People were filming, and he’d let them. Everyone should see Ben paint Homelander’s brain across the street with his shield—back in his hand—and there should be evidence of Ben peeling Homelander's burnt face off his skull. Everyone should witness how fucking weak Homelander really was, how fucking useless and desperate and evil. Homelander tried to jab at him—tried to mock him or ask where She’d gone—but all of Ben’s already thin patience was gone. He wanted Homelander to hurt, hurt the way Ben had felt Her hurt. He couldn’t take Her pain and put it into Homelander, so bashing his head open was the second best option. 

And Ben was winning. Homelander landed a few weak blows and Ben got scorched with one or two lasers he wasn’t able to dodge, but Ben was fucking winning. He’d have to thank Her, later, for how thoroughly she’d ruined Homelander’s face. Ben was pretty sure the fucker was—at least temporarily—blind in one eye. He was slower to block, turning his head more than he should, and it gave Ben a few extra hits right into his ugly fucking face. Homelander kept trying to grab something, scramble for a gun or some shit, but it wouldn’t matter. Ben was fucking winning. He’d knock the pussy unconscious and go home. Maybe even fucking kill him- 

Homelander’s mauled face shot up, and he was gone. Fucking blasting into the sky, fleeing like a goddamn coward, and Ben let him. He could’ve grabbed Homelander’s cape, pulled him back down, but the job was done. People were scattering away with screams at the remaining rumbles of an explosion Ben could only assume was the French Prick’s signal echoed through the city. He’d heard it go off, only a minute ago, but hadn’t fucking cared. Not when he could just keep hurting Homelander. And now Ben was left in the crowded street with a bunch of fucking idiots filming him. Flinching and scrambling away when he turned back to the Fund as part of his brain still looked for Her. In the crowd, somewhere off to the side, or in the remains of the Starlight Fund. He was searching for Her smile, her sharp eyes, just some sign she was there. 

Ben saw Her sunglasses. That was the only evidence that She had been here. There was smoldering wreckage and burnt grass, small fires clustered around the ruins and on the street, but this was evidence of Her. Of the perfect woman who laughed with him and never fucking faltered. 

They were broken. Tinted blue glass on the floor and bent frames. She was going to be really fucking pissed about that. For reasons Ben didn’t understand, She loved those stupid sunglasses. 

He’d buy Her new ones. He’d make sure Mallory finally started paying them, and Ben would buy her a million fucking off-brand Soldier Boy sunglasses. 

Annie and Hughie were in the car. Nobody had followed Ben into the ally—one very stupid kid had tried, but scrambled away at Ben’s glare—so Ben dropped into the backseat of the car. Alone. 

Hughie looked at him in the rearview mirror. “Uh, where-“ 

“She went after Butcher.” Ben snapped. “She’ll meet us there. Fucking go.” 

Annie and Hughie exchanged looks, and Annie pulled out her phone. Swiping through it, glancing up around Ben nervously until she found whatever the fuck she was looking for. 

“Butcher says they’re out with Ryan, and everyone’s heading back.” She showed the screen to Hughie, and he nodded. “We should go.” 

“That’s what I fucking said.” Ben muttered, and tried not to look at the place beside him. Where She’d usually be, rolling Her eyes or calling him a grump. 

The car ride back was long. Fucking longer than the car ride there. Time was stretching, fucking crawling so slow without Her there. Ben had been away from Her for less than a damn hour, and he missed Her. He missed Her so fucking much. A year ago, he’d have called himself a pussy. He’d have scoffed, sneered that he was fucking Soldier Boy. He shouldn’t miss anyone. People should miss him, and be thankful he ever looked at them in the first place. But Ben a year ago hadn’t met Her. He didn’t get it. That She was beautiful, and brilliant, and had the smartest fucking mouth he’d ever heard. That She felt like heaven and hell and Ben didn’t want to exist without Her. If being a pussy for this one perfect woman was the price Ben had to pay to have Her, he’d pay it. He’d pay anything. 

She wasn’t answering Ben’s texts. He’d messaged Her, asked her if everyone was in one piece or giving her shit for going off book, and She hadn’t answered. But that didn’t mean a fucking thing, because She kept her phone in Her jacket, which was currently smoldering ash in the remains of the Starlight Fund. He’d buy Her a new phone as well. And fucking punch Mallory in her wrinkled, sour face if they got any shit about Her destroying another phone. 

Annie and Hughie weren’t trying to talk to him. At some point Annie had put on Billy Joel, and Ben let her. He hadn’t hated his music, in the 80s, and knew that She just liked music. Any music. So it made it a little easier to pretend She was here. To pretend something wasn’t growing sick inside of Ben. 

Even as it started to rot. As everything started to feel wrong. 

Ben didn’t wait for the car to fully stop before opening the door. He didn’t even bother to grab his shield. Nobody else could pick it up anyway. Hughie gave a weak protest as he stepped out, but Ben saw Annie shake her head in his periphery and Hughie’s mouth snapped shut. It was a smart fucking choice. 

She’d had the keycard. The door was locked and She had taken the keycard. So Ben had to wait—glowering at the parked Pussy Mobile a few spots down from Butcher’s car—for Annie and Hughie to let him in. Stand behind them stiffly in the elevator with his arms crossed, and just fucking wait. 

“Butcher said we’d debrief in the dining hall,” Hughie mumbled. “I don't think he's happy with us. With the whole, uh, fighting Homelander thing.”

Butcher could fucking suck Ben’s dick. 

The doors opened, and Ben shoved his way out of the elevator, not waiting for Hughie or Annie to keep up. His steps were long, stomping, and fast—almost a full run—but there was no fucking time. He needed to see Her. He needed to see Her right fucking now- 

He shoved the doors open, marched into the dining hall, and froze. 

Butcher and the Kid were at the table, MM and Mallory sitting across from them, their backs to Ben. Kimiko and the French Prick were at the other end of the table, in a silent conversation. There were four empty seats between them and the larger group. Two for Annie and Hughie. Two for Ben and Her. 

But She wasn’t fucking there. 

And Ben couldn’t hear Her heart. 

“Where is she,” Ben growled, and Butcher looked up at him. 

“Good work to you too, you dumb fucking cunt-“ 

“Shut the fuck up,” Ben hissed. There wasn’t fucking time for this. “Where the fuck is she.” 

MM turned, frowning at Ben. “Who the hell-“ 

Ben roared Her name as Hughie and Annie pushed into the room, their hearts faltering behind him. Seeing what Ben saw. “Where the goddamn fucking hell is she!” 

Mallory was looking at him now, lips in a thin line, words clipped. “She was supposed to be with you-“

“I fucking know that!” Ben’s voice might be shaking the building. “She went inside the Tower, to find you fucking pussies. Where the hell is she?” 

“We,” MM blinked at him. “We haven’t seen her. She was supposed to be with you.” 

“Oh, shit.” Hughie whispered, and the room fell silent. 

The world was fucking ending. This was the judgement day, or apocalypse, or end of days or fucking something, because She was gone. She was gone. She’d disappeared into the fucking Tower, and she was in danger. Ben had let Her go into the tower, Ben had fucking failed Her. He should’ve gone with Her, he should’ve kept Her there and trusted her to fight, he should never have let Her go alone. She’d told him not to leave her alone, Ben had promised to keep Her safe, and now She was fucking gone. He’d failed. And nothing fucking mattered expect getting Her back. 

Ben turned roughly around to Hughie, extending an arm. “Give me the fucking keys.”

Hughie blinked at him. “Uh, why?” 

“To drive the damn car.” Ben snapped. He didn’t have the goddamn time for this shit. She was in fucking danger. “I’m going to get her. Fucking keys. Now.” 

Hughie was fumbling in his pocket—apparently not a complete fucking dumbass—but froze at Mallory’s cold words. “You’re going to stay here, Soldier Boy, until you receive further orders.” 

Ben didn’t bother to turn around. “Shove it up your ass, you fucking bitch. Keys.” 

“We don’t know where She is,” Annie said carefully. “She could’ve left the tower, could be coming back here-“ 

“Or she could be in fucking danger.” Ben’s voice was rising to a shout. “Give me the fucking keys-“ 

“Lad, if you give Soldier Boy my fuckin keys, I’ll shoot you.” 

Ben whirled to Butcher. “Shut the fuck up, you useless fucking pussy. Does fucking nobody,” he scowled around the room. “Give fuck about her but me? Do none of you care that you just fucking abandoned her?” 

You abandoned Her. It echoed in his brain, twisting around his throat. You failed Her. You left Her. 

“Of course we care,” MM snapped. “But I have to be with Butcher on this. She could be anywhere-“ 

“So fucking find her!” Ben bellowed. How could none of them fucking get it, fucking understand that She was lost, gone, alone, afraid. In fucking danger. “If you care, get off your asses and fucking find her!” 

“Frenchie,” Butcher stood, glaring at Ben. “Take Ryan to his room.” 

Ben looked away from Butcher just long enough to see the Kid watching him with wide, fearful eyes as the French Prick herded him past Ben, out the door. He glanced at Kimiko—still sat at the end of the table—and she was frowning at him. Signing something Ben didn’t fucking understand. She’d have understood. 

He looked back to Butcher, and spoke through gritted teeth. “I’m finding her. Good luck trying to fucking stop me.” 

“We will bloody find her,” Butcher snapped. “But we ain’t going to do it in a day. She’s probably fuckin fine-“ 

“She was in the fucking Tower. Are you that fucking stupid-“ 

“I ain’t stupid. I’m a realist.” Butcher held Ben’s murderous glare. “Like she is. We’ll find her, now sit the fuck down.” 

“Don’t pretend like you fucking know her. Like you’re fucking buddies and you know what she’d want-“ Kimiko was waving at Ben, trying to get his attention as he roared, and he shot her a withering glower. “What fuck is wrong with you?” 

She pointed to her phone, and reached it out for Ben to take. He snatched it from her hands—slightly thrown by the seemingly genuine sympathy and worry across her face—and looked at the screen. 

BREAKING NEWS: Vought Announces that the Homelander’s girlfriend has been recovered from Soldier Boy’s captivity.

He’d failed Her. In the worst possibly way, Ben had compelety fucking failed Her. 

The glass cracked in Ben’s grip, and he chucked the phone at Butcher. “Is that fucking enough to get you to move your pathetic fucking pussy asses, and fucking save her?” 

MM leaned over Butcher’s shoulder, reading the screen. “Fuck.” 

“What’s-“ 

Hughie’s confused words were cut off as Annie shuffled behind Ben, “I’ll check-“ Ben heard her swallow. “Oh, shit.” 

“Jesus,” Hughie whispered, and Ben’s skin crawled. Why the fuck were they just standing here. Why weren’t they moving. Fucking saving Her. 

Butcher only stared at the screen with a scowl, and Mallory stood to read the headline as well. 

“Butcher,” she said slowly. “This is-“ 

“Changes nothing.” Butcher tossed the phone back to Kimiko. “We keep on the fuckin track.” 

Ben’s whole world froze with wrath. Locking him in place. Spinning him around, stabbing into his chest, making the world painful. 

“Are you fucking insane?” Annie shouted from behind Ben. “She’s-“ 

“Nothing.” Butcher snapped. “We’ll get her back when Homelander’s in the bloody ground.” 

“Butcher, even for you-“ 

“This ain’t about me.” Butcher hissed over MM. “It’s about her.” 

“She’s not going to be our man on the inside, you psychopath!” Annie shouted. “She a fucking victim-“ 

“If we go now, Starlight, the bloody hell you think will happen?” Butcher leered at Annie, over Ben. Still unmoving, unable to move as the drums echoed in his head. “We’ll storm the fuckin castle and Homelander will just hand her over?” 

“We could,” Hughie protested, voice weak. “I mean, that’s kind of how we just got Ryan-“ 

“Homelander ain’t stupid, he’s not fallin for that trick two times in a row.” Butcher turned back to Ben. “If you’re that much of a whipped fucking idiot, Gov, we can go right now. I’ll even bloody drop you off. But they’ll see us comin, and Homelander will blast her far, far away. You wouldn’t ever even fuckin see her again.” 

“Butcher-“ 

“Let the man answer Grace.” Butcher held Ben’s gaze. “We ain’t going to stop him if he leaves, or goes after her. It’ll be her bloody funeral. Not ours.” 

He could. Ben could leave right fucking now, and find her, and then they’d leave together. He’d keep Her safe forever, do fucking anything to make her forgive him for failing her.

But a voice that sounded like Hers echoed through his brain. 

Don’t be a dumbass, Benjamin. Butcher’s right, which is annoying because now he’s going to be a cunt about it. But he’s right. 

You’ll find me. You’ll always find me, I trust you. 

I’ll see you soon. 

Butcher read Ben’s answer on his face, and nodded. “Right choice, Gov.” Something passed over Butcher’s feature, something a lot more human than Ben had ever seen. Almost understanding, almost pained. “She’s a clever lady. She’ll get through this.” 

She’ll get back to you. 

And Ben would be here. He’d get Her back, and be here to hold her and burn with her when she returned to him. 

He’d kill Homelander, and never fail Her again. 

——————

Something is wrong. 

Something is very, very wrong. 

Your eyes are closed, but nothing around you is warm. Everything is freezing, the blankets are silk instead of cotton, there’s a strange smell of factory-made coconut in the air, and you’re alone. Ben isn’t here. 

That’s what’s wrong. 

Ben isn’t here. 

You’re suddenly afraid to open your eyes. You don’t remember what happened, you don’t know where you are, and Ben isn’t here. Your mind is moving slower than you need it to, trying to pull back bits and pieces to figure out what happened. Rolling a loop of where are you, why isn't Ben here.

Why does everything feel so wrong. 

You ran into the Tower. You know that much, Ben had given you his gun and you’d ran into the Tower before Homelander could return. You’d almost said it, he’d looked at you like you were his whole world and you almost let yourself say Ben. Ben, I love you. But that had felt final. You didn’t want final, you wanted Ben. So you’d just left. 

You’d told Ben you’d find Butcher. You’d meant to find Butcher. You swear, now, in this strange cold place, that you’d really meant to just find Butcher. But you hadn’t. The blueprints of Vought tower had flashed in your head, along with a small, persistent voice asking you Where was Sage? In all of this, with you and Ben destroying the front lawn, where was Sage? 

There was a security room on the first floor. Actually, there were two security rooms on the first floor. One was labeled such, with faded notes about electrical wiring scratched onto the copy Mallory had shown everyone. The other was identical, with no notes but the same design, labeled office 2. 

You hadn’t been able to find an office 1. Only an office 2. 

So you’d headed there first. 

The door was locked, and your fire wasn’t coming. Homelander had taken you into the sky, higher and higher and away with hands gripping your arm around him, and everything had frozen. It wasn’t the chill of the high wind, it was your blood, your skin, your head. Everything became cold and the fire had started to flicker, all your control over it waning. You’d told Ben you’d hit Homelander’s dick, but he’d just dropped you. He’d made a surprised sound from his throat you’d never heard, and his arms had grown slack around you. You’d pushed off of him and fallen, any fire left dying as you’d dropped through the air. And now it was asleep. Not gone. Still under your skin, still running through your body in the way you’d come to trust, but dormant. Unwilling to come out, even when you’d desperately needed it. 

So you’d shot the handle off. 

You remember that clearly. You’d looked around the hallway, empty as people either hid from Ben and Homelander or went to watch them, thought fuck it, and shot Ben’s gun. 

The door had swung open, and Sage had been right where you expected her. 

She hadn’t turned from the monitors, and said your name in a bored tone. “You’re early.” 

“I’m early,” you’d repeated, raising the gun to a mediocre aim at Sage’s head. You remember wondering if Ben would cum on the spot if you asked him to teach you how to properly use a gun. “There’s no possible way you planned this.” 

Sage had shrugged. “It was more of an outline. A hypothetical. One of many. I honestly didn’t think you’d go with this option, but here we are.”

“Which one did you think we’d go with?” You’d been unable to help yourself from asking. You’d had to know just how predictable your plans were, so you could adjust. Be more erratic. Maybe you’d put Butcher in a dress, really have fun with it. 

She’d turned, spun in her chair to look at you with a small, cold smile. “My money was on you sacrificing yourself, trading yourself in. Didn’t anticipate Soldier Boy stopping you, but I’ve adapted. And now we’re here.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about.” Your hands had been shaking, and you’d looked behind Sage at the monitors. You could see Ben and Homelander on the lawn, and—running through a polished hallway—your team. With Ryan Butcher, failing to shoot at a single camera. You'd yell at Butcher about that later, when this was done. This was almost done.

“In January, when we met for the first time, you confused me.” Sage had tilted her head at you. “That’s impressive. Nobody confuses me. Once I’d found out who exactly you were, Homelander selectively filling in pieces as I figured out the rest myself, I still didn’t fully understand. Once again, impressive.” 

“Oh, gee, thanks.” You’d kept your eyes on Sage, but clocked every movement on the monitors. So close. “You really know how to make a girl blush.” 

“I’m serious. I couldn’t figure you out. You should’ve run when you got out. You’re a smart woman, you should’ve run. But you didn’t, which displays remarkable stupidity. You’d aligned with William Butcher, but seemed to hold qualms with his methods. And your deal with Soldier Boy, the cherry on top. In January you were,” She’d paused, frowned at you before continuing. “Strange. Not friends, not quite, but not simply hateful. Certainly not apathetic. Enough for me to worry about Soldier Boy truly being a problem. And then, by the end of the same month, he seemed to truly care for you. If anything, you managed to baffle me more.” 

“If you say impressive again,” you’d snapped at her. “I’ll fucking shot you.” 

“And you’re much more violent than I anticipated. Yet another thing that threw me, because all signs would point to you being a pacifist. But I figured it out. I found the thing I’d been missing. The club-“ She sighed at your shocked expression. “Please don’t get caught on that. I was separated from Vought for over a decade, I am well aware of the Renegade Room. I haven’t told Homelander about it, I won’t, but I’m aware. Of the club, and your plan with Butcher. That helped me figure it out. You care. About humans, about everyone. No matter how they treat you, how they collectively wrong you and fail you, you care.” 

You’d shrugged. “Kant said never to treat people as means to an end.” 

“Kant also said man must be disciplined.” Sage had shot back. “But you’re not interested in that. You’re forgiving. You tried to discipline Soldier Boy, but then you let him stop you. I didn’t think anything would stop you. I’m still trying to piece that part together fully, but I know how to adapt to an empty picture. I know, for all your care, something with Soldier Boy is different. And you can stop looking at the monitors.” 

You’d blinked at her. “The monitors-“ 

“I know Butcher has Homelander’s son. I’ve sent people to collect them. Right now this is about you. You, Homelander, and Soldier Boy. See,” she’d looked at the monitors with narrowed eyes. “Sometimes I outdo even myself. When I developed the gas for Soldier Boy, I didn’t think it would be this important. But, fuck, those months in the lab around about to pay off. Because-“ 

Hindsight coming to you now, you probably should’ve let Sage finish her speech. Figured out how this was going to pay off for her, and how it probably wasn’t in your favor. But you remember hearing people to collect them and gas for Soldier Boy and a ringing sound starting in your ears. So you’d shot Sage in the face. 

This part was harder to remember. This part felt painful. 

You think you’d sat in the chair. Pushed Sage’s body to the floor and sat. Or maybe you’d just stood at her side. Or behind the chair. 

No matter what, you’d looked at the monitors. You’d seen Noir and The Deep. Not being distracted by A-Train, but running through a hall that looked far too similar to the one your team was in. You’d stopped them. Somehow you’d stopped them because you remember the relief when they turned around. It might have been a phone call, maybe there was a walkie talkie, but it didn’t matter because you’d stopped them. And Ryan had gotten out. 

Then you’d seen Ben and Homelander, still fighting. Ben throwing steady, powerful punches and slamming his shield into Homelander’s body. Then you’d see Homelander reach for something. 

The gas. 

Homelander had been reaching for more gas. And Ben hadn’t been seeing it. 

You’d screamed. You’d grabbed Sage’s phone, or walkie talkie, or just screamed louder. Loud enough to be heard. 

You were in the Vought building. Alone. Homelander could come find you. 

And then Sage had stood up, and you’d been confused. You’d definitely just shot her. 

She’d pulled out a vial. 

And now you were here. 

In Vought Tower. Or a warehouse. Or a lab. Or underground.

Cold. 

Alone. 

You aren’t chained to anything. Your mouth has a gag around it, so you can’t speak, but you can move. You’re dressed. No shoes, but a shirt, loose pants. Underwear. You can’t hear anyone, only the hum of a fan. A lot of fans. It’s really, really cold. 

If Sage sent you here, she should know better. She should know cold doesn't matter. Your fire came from you, not the air around you. You could, if you tried, burn all of the arctic circle while standing at the north pole. But it was still so cold. 

And bright. When you peel your eyes open, blinking and wiping at them—your hands are cuffed and wrapped in big red mittens, so you can’t really accomplish much with them—the room is almost blinding. It might be because of how long you were out, how your head was pounding and aching when you’d woken, but it was so bright. 

You don’t recognize the room. Your eyes adjust quickly, the pounding is already gone and your exhaustion is leaving fast, but you can’t figure out where you are. It wasn’t the white room, or a new lab, but an apartment. A truly awfully decorated apartment, where everything was glossy marble and silk and sleek furniture that didn’t look usable in any way. The bed you’re on is low, the frame made of iron and the mattress feeling like it’s sinking into the floor. It’s not bright anymore, not as the effects of Sage’s gas—what you were assuming was Sage’s gas—were dissipating by the second. It’s low lit, too low lit. Everything is cast in a yellow glow, and the lamps and ceiling lights feel like they’re more for pure decoration than actual practical use. Another part of this hideous, unnerving picture. There’s a lot of red. A lot of white. A lot of blue.

Your heart drops. Deep into your stomach where it churns around with bile and fear. You know where you are. You know exactly where you are. Everything is too clean, too modern, and too impractical. Like it’s been designed to be gaudy, high-brow, and ostentatious. There’s a white marble statue of a bald eagle, and a painting of George Washington on the Delaware that you hope isn’t an original. 

But it could be. Because this is Homelander’s room. 

You need to run. Your hands are confined and your fire is asleep, but your feet aren’t chained. So you can run. Or jump out a window. Homelander’s room is on 99—you remember from the blueprints: floor 99, south facing quadrant, next to Maeve’s old room and Noirs’ current one—but you’d survive the fall. You’d survive anything. But you have to go. You have to push through the sick and crippling feeling that’s growing like mold in your body, through the sheer cold in your blood that’s trying to root you in place, and run. 

Rolling off the bed is easy. Getting your legs to stop shaking is harder, and taking steps without collapsing is near impossible. But you have to run. You can break when you’re home, when you’re safe and Homelander can’t find you again. 

You can fucking do this. You steady your body, and take a long breath. You’re strong. You’ve escaped him once before. And done a lot of other, crazier shit. At this point it’s just another Tuesday. 

It’s a Friday. A small voice—bored and petulant—reminds you. And you were in a lab upstate. This is Vought Tower. You’ve never escaped Vought Tower.  

Shut the fuck up. This voice isn’t yours. It’s deep, and always a little gruff, even as it encourages you. You’re strong, Sunshine. You’re a spiteful, brilliant, angry pain in the ass. You can fucking do this. 

You’re strong. You can fucking do this. 

You’re going to jump out the window. 

Getting out of the room is simple but difficult, and getting down the stairs is fast. You fall, tumbling down the steps and landing on the floor with a crunch, but the adrenaline makes it painless and whatever broke is already healed. You half-crawl, half stumble to the windows. Wide, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the New York skyline. You can’t really see the street below you. 

This is going to really fucking hurt. 

Two steps back. Actually, four steps back. Enough to get a running start. Breathe in, out. You’ll be fine. And if it kills you, it kills you. 

Anything would be better than this. 

You’ve taken three steps when something grabs the back of your shirt, halting you. You scream into the gag, and a red gloved hand covers your mouth. 

“It’s just me,” Homelander hisses in your ear, and you stop fighting. Your whole body shuts down into the cold, and you can’t scream, or sob, or do anything but let Homelander drag you back and throw you onto the long, stiff couch.  

You can’t look at him. Looking at him makes this real. 

He notices, and jerks your chin to force your eyes to meet his. Colder than the room, full of malice and something that might be his version of hurt. Blue. You fucking hate blue. 

“You weren’t going to try and jump?” Homelander’s voice sounds genuinely disbelieving. “I mean,” he laughs your name, and you want to throw up. “Even for you that’s drastic.” 

He doesn’t know you. He doesn’t know what’s drastic for you and what’s not. But you can’t even glare at him, because all your energy is starting to fade, weighing you down like stones filling up your lungs. 

Homelander sighs. “I mean, you’ve already hurt my feelings enough for today.” His grip on your face might crack bone. “Stealing my son,” he gestures to his face, still bubbling with burn scars. “Doing fucking this to me. I mean, what did they do to you? To make you do this to me?” 

He sounds like he’s going to cry. You don’t care.

“Well,” he stands up, releasing your face and frowning down at you with his hands on his hips. “It doesn’t matter now. We’ll fix it. It’s fine your little plan worked, because it brought you back to me. And we’ll get Ryan back, together, once you’re less,” he sighs, waving a hand. “Fucking broken. This time will be different, I won’t keep you two apart. That was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

You just look at him, and his face twists into a sneer. 

“I said I’m sorry. It’s your turn.” 

You have a fucking gag over your mouth. And, even with the fear making everything too loud and bright and blurry, you’d never apologize to Homelander. He’ll have to kill you first. 

His glower fades in a second when he remembers the gag. “Oh, well, I’m going to pretend you apologized, because I can’t really take your gag off. Not while you’re still,” he spins a finger around near his head with a whistle. “Cuckoo. You get it, it’s just a precaution. I mean,” he laughs. “We can’t have you doing your little reality warping trick when you’re still loosing your fucking mind!” 

It’s not reality warping. It’s sensory manipulation. And for some reason that starts to set steel in your body. You’re not losing your mind. You’re not unstable or drastic. It’s fucking sensory manipulation, and your plan worked. Homelander had said Ryan was gone, and you’d done that—ruined Homelander’s picture perfect, all-American face—because you hated him. The fear wasn’t leaving, but it wasn’t growing anymore. And you could glare at Homelander. Let all your hatred, your hatred, not anyone else’s but yours, show across your face. 

“Oh, don’t give me that look!” Homelander huffs with an eye roll. “It’s temporary. Just until I can trust you again! We’re going to do this right this time, we’re going to do us right this time, and once we’ve rebuilt our trust I won’t have to take these kind of precautions. They’re fucking annoying for me, too. This isn’t just about you.” 

You just glare. 

“I mean, you can’t be that mad. You’d do the same thing, if you were in my shoes.” Homelander leans over you, studying your face. “I’m not letting you go this time. Everyone’s going to know you fucking belong to me. I mean, we’re made for each other.” He laughs again, and it’s horrible. It’s joyless and mocking and scraping around your insides painfully. “I mean, you were a good option for me before the V. Smart, pretty, good genetics, more compliant than Becca Butcher, less annoying and weird than Stormfront. You’d never be as mean to me as they were. For Christ’s sake, Stormfront killed herself on my fucking birthday! Did I tell you that? How fucking mean!” 

He’d told you that. Homelander had visited you that day, and asked you if you’d ever do that him. You’d said you would, because you had to and part of you had hoped he’d just leave. He hadn’t. 

“But you’d never do that to me. And after the V?” He grins at you, and it makes the scars look uglier. “You’re almost as strong as me! All those fucking nerds said one shot was going to kill you, but you survived four!” He leans over you, making you crane your neck with a rough hand. “Did I ever tell you that? One V shot should’ve killed you, and you definitely shouldn’t have lived through two. One of those scientists kept trying to tell me that you were growing more powerful and unstable each time, that we should fucking quit while we’re ahead, but I believed in you. And now look at you. My equal.” He shrugs. “Or at least fucking close to it. Closer than Maeve, closer than Stormfront, closer than anyone. Which is why I forgive you, and now I’m going to do this right.” 

He keeps saying that. Keeps saying he’s going to do this right. You don’t know what that means. 

“Sage already announced you’ve come home. I would’ve done it, but,” he gestures to his face, and some sort of twisted satisfaction runs through you. “I could just wait it out, but you’re up before we thought you’d be, so you can fix it.” He grabs one of your hands and starts to undo the cuff, but pauses. “If you need an incentive to behave, let me just remind you that you won’t make it out the door. You’re strong, but I’m fucking stronger. You can run, but I’ll knock you down. You’re staying with me. All the fucking worms who tried to keep you away from me won’t be able to this time. Butcher can try and come get you, but I’ll just kill him and his whole merry band of idiots. They send Soldier Boy, and we’ll knock him out. Sage has wired the whole building for it, just in case. You don’t have to worry about that, but you should know. Trust.” Homelander pulls off the wrapping on one hand, raising to his face. “You’re never fucking getting away from me again. Now fix what you did.” 

The fire is back. It’s woken up—not at full power but more than enough—coursing through your whole body as Homelander words rattled around your head. They’ll knock Ben out. They’ll kill your team. 

You could run. Homelander’s moving your hand against his skin, and you could burn him and run. 

But you touch him, your skin on his, and suddenly you’re afraid. 

It’s not your fear. Your fear is freezing, made of panic and memories. This fear is foreign, hostile in your body, made of something vile and strange. This fear is buried deep, deep down, and strong. This fear is parasitic. This is Homelander’s fear. 

Homelander’s afraid. 

Of you. 

And in a split second, you make a choice. 

You had a plan for this. In the back of your head, you’d buried a plan. You’d never wanted to use it, you’d never told anyone you had it, you’d even pretended it wasn’t there so you could sleep at night. 

You could run. You could leave and go back to Ben and warn him that they had more gas, warn Butcher that Sage was planning something, because you were certain she was. But you didn’t know what. 

And you had a plan. 

Ben was going to kill you. You were going to kill you. As Homelander’s face healed under your hands and your own face grew raw and painful, you hated yourself. You wanted to leave. You wanted to go home, back to Ben, and just leave. But the fire was settling quietly back into your body, silent and cold once more as your choice became set. 

Homelander was right. This wasn’t about you. This was about the world, and making it safe. This was about trusting that Butcher wouldn’t let Ben come find you, as much as you wanted him to. Every part of your heart wanted Ben to burst through the door, pick you up, and take you away. Anywhere that wasn’t here, and you’d tell him you loved him and he wouldn’t leave. But you’d promised to keep him awake, and if he came to save you he’d go under. He wasn’t going under. And, as much of a prick as Butcher was, he’d know to keep Ben away. And you’d get back to Ben. Soon. But right now this wasn’t about you. 

Here were the cards you’d been dealt. Here was your shot at the devil. 

You weren’t going to miss.

End Note: I know y’all hate me now, but please let me cook. I swear I'm not a sadist and this is going somewhere. Remember the agreement we made that you didn’t know about; you GOTTA trust. 

Please, please, please leave a comment if you want to! Never be afraid it’s too long or too short and think I won’t read it. Every single one means the whole world to me, whether it’s a thought on an older chapter or a predication about the next one. No matter what you’re telling me, feedback or jokes or opinions, you will ALWAYS make my day. Cuss me out for this chapter, ask my why the hell I hate love, tell me about your day, no matter what I want to hear it <3. See you in Angst-town USA, population us, for chapter 17.

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[thisapplepielife]

Written for a @astrangersummer.

Save it For a Rainy Day

Week #9 Prompt: Where It All Started | Word Count: 1950 | Rating: T | POV: Wayne | Characters: Wayne, Eddie, Steve | Pairings: Wayne & Eddie, Steddie | CW: Eddie's Rough Start in Life, Parental Neglect, Language, S4 Canon | Tags: Good Uncle Wayne Munson, Taking in Eddie, Eddie and Steve Meet as Kids, Haircuts and Swimming Playdates, Fix-It, Happy Ending

He's so little. 

That's the only thought Wayne has, over and over again. He's so goddamn little. With lank, limp hair, all snarled and knotted, matted. Unkempt. Dirty. Dark circles under his sullen eyes. He's small, but at the same time he looks every bit of a hardened fifty-five, at all of seven-years-old.

He didn't look like that the last time Wayne had seen him. 

And Wayne is sick that he's deteriorated to this point, in just two years time. At five, he had been a happy, wild boy. All snips, snails and puppy dog tails. 

With a loud mouth and big, round cheeks.

Al swore he was fine, that they both were, on the rare occasions when he'd call after losing Betts and Wayne had believed him. Until the social worker was on his front steps, Eddie standing there, head bowed, so utterly serious.

"Do you want me to find someone to try and comb it out, or would you like to shave it and start over?" Wayne asks, and Eddie just shrugs. Still not talking, still buried deep within his shell.

Wayne's not going to decide for him. Thinks it should be his decision, but knows it can't stay like this either, even if he doesn't have it in him to start dragging a comb through it. He knows that'll hurt, and he can't do it to Eddie. Won't. 

"When you decide, you let me know," Wayne says, hoping he'll decide sooner rather than later.

It takes three days, but Eddie finally comes up behind Wayne on the couch, and taps him on the shoulder, and makes the motion for shaving his head.

"Okay, I'll get you an appointment," Wayne tells him, because he wants to do this right, and not leave Eddie with the memory of Wayne shaving his head in the kitchen of the trailer. Maybe that's cowardly, but he'd rather push that off on a professional. 

Eddie is sitting on the little wooden board the hairdresser placed over the arms of her chair to make him taller, the hydraulic lift hadn't even been enough to get him where she needed him, and he somehow still looks little.

She gently, oh so gently, takes the clippers to Eddie's hair, shaving off strips, as she talks him through each pass. Eddie seems fine with it, there are no tears, but no smiles either.

This was the right call. A beauty shop, not a barber. Wayne's own barber does just fine on his own hair, but wouldn't have been so delicate with Eddie, and right now, Wayne's pretty sure his boy needs a soft touch.

There's another boy in the chair next to Eddie, probably the same age, but he's so much larger, and more animated. Studying every move of her hand as she barely trims anything off his thick head of hair. He doesn't need the booster board, even if Wayne suspects he's younger than Eddie.

"Nanny Louisa, can I get my haircut like that?"

She laughs, "Steve. Your mother would have both of our hides. We all have very strict orders for your haircut and you know it." 

"Aw, man, it looks so cool," Steve whines, and if Wayne isn't mistaken, that's Richard Harrington's boy. And if that's true, there's no way he's leaving here with his head shaved, that's for damn sure.

And then, as if it were a miracle, Eddie smiles. It's small, faint, barely there. But it's a goddamn smile, aimed at the other little boy that is watching as Eddie's hair falls down all around his chair and onto the floor.

The Harrington boy doesn't win, and only gets a trim, but Eddie has straightened up on the board. Not nearly as withdrawn as he was when they entered the shop.

Maybe shedding all that damaged hair feels like a new start. Wayne sure hopes so, because they're gonna need all the help they can get.

When he's all brushed off, and the plastic cape removed, the hairdressers each hand Eddie and the Harrington boy a coupon for a free ice cream cone at the shop down on the corner. It's a perk for being good in the chair, and they both earned it today.

Eddie clutches his coupon in his little hands.

"Do you want to save that, or get it now?" Wayne asks, and Eddie looks torn. That isn't the look Wayne wants on his face, so he quickly amends his question, "Or both? You can save your coupon for a rainy day, and we can still get ice cream now," Wayne offers.

"Really?" Eddie says, looking so hopeful, and it's the most beautiful word Wayne's ever heard in his whole life.

"Really," he reassures, "you save it until you want to use it. And I'll buy, today."

"Can we go get ice cream, too, Nanny Louisa?" the Harrington boy asks, and she looks reluctant, but finally nods. She couldn't let him get his head shaved, but ice cream, that's probably a much more doable request.

Wayne sits at the table with Louisa and makes the world's most uncomfortable small talk, as the boys sit at another table together, and jabber back and forth. Well, Steve is doing most of the talking, but Eddie, his sweet Eddie, has said more in the past thirty minutes than he has in the past week, and Wayne doesn't care who has gotten those words out of him, he'll be grateful. 

When the cones are gone, both boys appear at the side of the table, "Eddie's coming over tomorrow to swim," Steve announces. 

"Oh, is he?" his nanny asks, teasing Steve, and Wayne smiles. 

"He is. His uncle will bring him," Steve says with a confidence that things will always go his way in life, and Wayne hopes that rubs off on Eddie, just a little bit.

"I will?" Wayne teases, and Eddie meets his eyes, and Wayne nods. "If it's okay with Miss Louisa, I think that could be arranged."

"I don't know how to swim," Eddie admits on the way home, and Wayne laughs.

"Maybe you shouldn't have made a swimming playdate then, kid," Wayne teases, and Eddie laughs, a small quiet laugh. But it was a laugh. Wayne heard it.

"Yeah," Eddie says, and then he's quiet for a stretch, "could you teach me?"

Wayne isn't so sure that's his area of expertise, but he supposes he could try, "Yeah, I can try."

Knowing Eddie would be far too embarrassed to go to the public pool, Wayne takes Eddie out to the swimming side of Lover's Lake.

Wayne, not sure the last time he's even been in shorts, wades out in the water in his cut-off jeans, surely blinding the boaters a mile out with his white legs, as Eddie walks in beside him.

And Wayne teaches him, always staying within an arm's reach. And Eddie swims. It might not be the fancy strokes that the Harrington boy can surely swim, in his private pool with his private swimming lessons. 

But Eddie's doing it, and Wayne feels like maybe, just maybe, he's finally done something right for the kid today.

Eddie's laughing, and splashing, a quick study, and Wayne lets him paddle around for as long as he wants, until the sun threatens to sink beyond the horizon. 

Once back on shore, Wayne wraps him up in a towel, just one from the house, and gets him back into the truck.

"I'm starving," Eddie says.

"The downside to going swimming, I'm afraid," Wayne answers, but swings by Benny's Burgers on the way home, getting them both a burger, fries and a milkshake. Ice cream twice in one day is fine, Wayne's pretty sure, since Wayne's celebrating the first good day they've had since Eddie got here.

Anything the kid wants, forever, Wayne will do his best to make happen.

In the morning, Wayne brings Eddie by Melvald's General Store, to let Eddie pick out a beach towel from the rack. Eddie combs through them, so serious as he checks out the options: Star Wars and Barbie and Huckleberry Hound.

"Garfield!" Eddie finally declares, and Wayne supposes that's the one. 

"Garfield, great choice," Wayne says, taking the towel to the counter so they can pay for it. So Eddie won't be embarrassed bringing a fraying old towel from home. So he'll have something new, and fun, that he picked out all for himself. 

Wayne probably should have washed it first, but he's not that organized, and Eddie'll live. Wayne pulls off the tag and hands it over, and Eddie hugs it to his chest.

Pulling into the circle drive at the Harrington's is weird, to say the least. He's never set foot on the property, and never imagined he ever would. But, Eddie's brought a lot of changes, and if Eddie likes this other little boy, and he's kind, Wayne will be polite and make his boy happy in any way he knows how.

That evening, when he picks Eddie up, he's tired, and a little sunburnt, but rattling off information about his new friend and all their grand plans for the summer vacation.

And as time always goes, that summer flew by too fast, and before Wayne knew it, years had passed. The boys drifted apart as fast as they became friends. As kids do. By high school, Wayne hasn't heard the name Steve Harrington from Eddie's mouth in years. 

But that summer, that first summer, Wayne will forever be grateful for him. For Steve Harrington, Garfield beach towels, and more ice cream cones than he could ever begin to count. To swimming, and fishing, and playing in the backyard. 

To the little kid that made his boy smile again.

And when Steve Harrington, now grown into a man, shows up on Wayne's doorstep, Eddie's denim vest clutched in his hands, filthy and blood-stained, Wayne lets him inside without a word. 

Wayne takes one look at him, and tells him to wait there. 

He has to dig, but he finally finds Eddie's piggy bank in a cardboard box that he'd packed from the remnants of the trailer, and pulls out the bottom plug. Change falls out, clattering onto the desk. 

But inside, there's a slip of paper. Folded to fit, and dirty from spending so much time hanging out amongst the coins.

Wayne clutches it in his hand, and when he presses it into Steve's palm, trading him for the vest, Steve looks down at it, his eyes wet and red-rimmed.

Wayne starts, "I don't know if you remember-"

"Of course I remember," Steve cuts him off. 

"Well, I thought today might be that rainy day."

Steve laughs, and sniffles a little, both at the same time.

"This ice cream shop has been closed for years," Steve says, but he's finally smiling, just a little. 

Eddie's not here to do it himself, not here to coax out that smile, so Wayne's repaid the debt for Eddie himself. 

"Yeah, well…" Wayne trails off.

"But it is, you know," Steve says, "that rainy day. So, thank you."

And months later, Eddie shows up on Wayne's doorstep again. Dirty, his hair matted, and eyes downcast. Thin, worn to the bone, and as silent and stoic as he had been at seven. Wayne asks no questions. The answers don't matter right now. Instead, he pulls on him, hugging him tight, welcoming him home.

They've done this before, and they can do it again. And Wayne's grateful to have the opportunity. He was so sure he'd never see him again.

Then, after Wayne's gotten Eddie settled, and Eddie is standing in front of the bathroom mirror, combing out his own hair, Wayne excuses himself, heading for the kitchen to call Steve Harrington.

Wayne tells him to bring ice cream.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun!

[thelikesofus]

Buddie Fic Recs

This is my 5th Buddie Rec List! I started compiling this list last April and omg looking back through them now I desperately need to reread them all. Highly recommend all of these fics, also please show the authors some love in their comments xx Happy Easter lovelies <3 REMINDER TO CHECK THE TAGS AND TRIGGER WARNINGS

where our eyes are never closing by @rewritetheending | T | 6k

After the lightning strike, Buck asks Eddie to take candid photos of him to help prove to Buck that he still exists. Absolute PEAK Softness. Buck through Eddie's eyes! I was a mushy puddle by the end. 10/10 would recommend. 

i got all my sisters with me by @useramor | T | 6k

Established relationship Buddie. Eddie’s sister has a baby and they travel down to Texas to meet the baby. DIAZ SIBLINGS UNITE! Seriously though the sibling dynamic in this is off the charts and Buck and Eddie are sickeningly in love, it is quite beautiful.

meet me where the tide comes in by @iinryer | G | 4k

A 3+1 fic about Eddie getting kissed on the head. FOREHEAD KISSES PTSD MORE HEAD KISSES AND BOYS IN LOVE!! Need I say anything more??

The one where Buck gets turned into a dog by @911onabc | G | 9k

Law Suit era BUT WAIT WAIT….DOG BUCK!! I am a sucker for fic where one of them gets turned into an animal. They are much more free with their affection when they think it's just a dog, or just a cat, and the bond between Eddie and "Boy" is so so wonderful. And I do love a happy ending xx

can't do this anymore (do it anyway) by @chronicowboy | T | 2k

Short and sweet but GOD this packs a punch. Eddie starts dating after the lightning strike and Buck is feeling Big Bad about it. He is so sad it truly breaks my heart but all works itself out in the end and Eddie proves Buck’s fears wrong.

We Found Each Other (Over There)  by @thekristen999 | T | 46k

Buddie WWII AU. A combat medic and a G.I. meet during one of the world’s greatest battles. This fic is a legitimate masterpiece. I cannot describe to you the quality of this fic because it is beyond words but I will tell you I stayed up until 3:30 am to finish it in one sitting and was left broken but made so so whole again. 

the mortifying ordeal of being known by @the-amber-raven | G | 60k

AU where Bobby is Buck’s adoptive Dad and Eddie is dating Buck but Eddie and Bobby think they are talking about two different people. Buck is training at the fire academy but hiding it from Bobby. This fic is the most beautiful tangle of miscommunication, love and family. 

like all good things are by @try-set-me-on-fire | T | 7k

Perfect, amazing, soul-destroying, magical, healing Fic. This literally covers all the bases. Chim and Bobby both get injured. OH! and Buck and Eddie were secretly dating all along. READ THIS FIC PEEPS!

find a way to you (if it kills me) by @eddiediazes  | M | 19k

The one where Eddie decides to start dating again, Buck figures out his own feelings just a minute too late, and then he spends a week going through the five stages of grief. BUCK PINING LV.10000000!

and i’d choose you (in a hundred lifetimes) by @monsterrae1 | E | 16k

Amnesia Exes fic by the wonderful Rae. Buck and Eddie fall in love via a penpal program and then Buck vanishes. This fic is set four years later. I literally could not put it down. I was reading it in class and then sat in my car for who knows how long just to finish it because I could not continue my day without knowing how it ended.

he never thinks of me (except when i'm on TV) by @loserdiaz | M | 18k 

APRIL'S FAMOUS!BUCK AND ARMY!EDDIE FIC!! In which Eddie finds out years later that his unrequited feelings for his high school best friend were not actually unrequited, Buck is stupidly famous now and they pine. OH THEY PINNNEEEEE! It’s delicious. 

every time we stop talking (the universe starts screaming) by @chronicowboy | M | 21k 

Alternative S7, Buddie Divorce Era Pt.2. Buck does something reckless and Eddie gets angry about it but these boys cannot communicate effectively to save their lives! This fic is peak angst to a happy ending and I felt like I had a hole in my chest OMG.

left your mark on this heart by @chronicowboy | G | 5k

Buck gets medically diagnosed with butterflies and the doctor makes him write in a notebook every time it happens. Surprise, surprise, the cause and effect is Eddie-related. The notebook entries kill me in the best way, the happiest happy ending

ALSO, YES THIS IS THE THIRD FIC BY THE SAME AUTHOR ON THIS LIST WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT?? READ IT IS WHAT! COS THEY'RE SO DAMN GOOD. 

endless numbered days by @cal-daisies-and-briars | G | 13k 

Buck and Eddie's wedding but from Bobby's POV as Bobby reflects on the family he lost and the one he gained. Absolutely beautiful, I cried.

don’t wanna let you love somebody else but me by @shitouttabuck | T | 14k

Chris wants dating advice so obviously Buck and Eddie decide to Fake Date for research purposes. This fic is PEAK adorable, sappy, and awkward Buddie. They’re idiots but we love them and the certainly love each other. READ THIS FIC! 

[ioniansunsets]

If you have time can you do headcanons for HEARTSTEEL Ezreal x K/DA fem!Reader? It's totally okay if you don't want to!!(≡^∇^≡)

✖ Heartsteel!Ezreal x K/DA!Reader ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.3k

✖ Tags: Established R/S

✖ A/N: Sorry for taking a while with this! I hope I did him justice. He is just a lovable idiot with your best interests in heart to me 💚💚💚

----

xxxx Day to Day xxxx

- He was a brat, an absolute whiny brat when your schedules don't line up. Ezreal is Complaining, begging and whining, incessantly pestering your managers to adjust things so he can spend time with you. His thoughts are plagued by you 24/7 and he wants nothing more than to just Be with you. Reluctantly he would still go to interviews and fan meets, but whenever he's on break he's sending you voice messages, sending you photos, drooping you messages on how he misses you.

- Ezreal would totally skip out on practices to run off and be by your side. Being in the same production studio totally helped. Blinking past higher ups and security to knock furiously on your studio door. Ahri sighing as she opens the door for him. Ezreal happily walking in like it is as much his studio as it is yours. " Here to visit my love, don't mind me girls!" Happy giggles erupting from his lips as he runs up to your side. He would totally just sit cross legged nearby, cheering as you pull off a dance move. Or jokingly learning the same set and joining in when you dance.

- If you were to visit him during his practice instead, he is ecstatic, suddenly a one take wonder whenever you are near. Of course he'd have to be perfect, you were watching him of course. Ezreal would also throw cute heart hands, heart fingers, blow kisses, throw his top off at you. All the embarrassingly cute things that just make him, him. The other boys in the band tease him of course, little loverboy becomes such a chummy mess around you it is almost surprising.

- This lovable loser would totally thirst trap and give you targeted fanservice. When you were apart Ezreal is the kind of guy to lift his shirt up and take a photo of him and his abs in the mirror to send to you. " Looked super cute today! Sucks that you aren't here to check it out yourself. Teehee." If you save any of these photos, don't tell him, it'll actually make him embarrassed instead. The way he immediately freaked out and told you to change it when he saw you set his photoshoot photo as your phone wallpaper, he cannot handle such love coming from someone he loves back just so much. One sided adoration was normal for him, seeing you love him back? His heart is thumping out of his chest.

- The kind of guy to serenade you in a high school boy kind of way, sneaking into the garden area below your window, throwing rocks at your window until you wake up and check it out only to see him with a ukulele loudly singing love songs he knows you like. The only reason it wasn't embarrassing was just because he was actually good at it, he was a singer so his voice was just so beautiful you can't help but forgive him. Of course he'd wait patiently to be let into your house after, laughing as you tell him he didn't have to sneak around to get in. He did it for the romantic fun of it, not because he has to.

- Ezreal is also rarely insecure, but when he is, he goes to you. You being a professional in the industry too, and also being his lover meant you were specifically the only one he trusts to hear his fears and appropriately comfort him. Worried about his voice not being good enough, his dancing being too erratic, his looks not being just perfect. Only when you tell him, with all your own experiences as a professional, that he was doing fine, amazing even. Or that everyone in the industry feels this way, it was just part of the job stress, would he finally calm down. " Thank you...I really needed that..." Soft whispers as he hugs you, your hands in his hair calming him down as he tries to breathe.

- And if it came to you? Panic setting in before a big interview or performance? He is your personal hype man. If anyone can make you feel better about yourself it was Ezreal. He loves you oh so much and has just as many reasons to back it up. Telling you how your cute smile always leaves his mind a fuzzy mess, how he loves your voice so much he sleeps to your solo records, how he watches compilations of your performances because he really loves to see you dance, there was nothing about you he doesn't love, and he is sure your fans feel the same way. He is just as big of a fan of you as you are of him, its hard not to love him for that.

xxxx Touring xxxx

- Ezreal hates that he has to hide his love for you on stage. Sure the adoring cries of cute girls and guys from the crowd was nice but where is yours! Why were you so busy that you haven't seen his selfie! Holding back any negative feelings he would still perform as well as he could on stage. He understands that you had your own performances so you couldn't watch all of his but he is still sad and pouty over it!

- If you were hidden in the audience, the moment he spots you its a 180. Suddenly even more energetic than usual, he can't help but to hop and blink closer to the audience, trying to give you a high five before blinking back on stage. Ezreal having to explain to Alune later why he was breaking rules. But all he would do is sheepishly laugh and apologize, knowing full well he would do it again. He was just so drawn to you afterall.

- Ez is the kind of loving boyfriend that would totally buy you over the top gifts and get them delivered. Almost every location you perform at, a bouquet is personally sent to your dressing room. Always your favorite flowers, sometimes a cheesy love poem written in the card, but always sent to you before your performance. The kind of " Hey, I can't be there but I will be watching you from here &lt;3" reminder that leaves your chest feeling warm.

- If Ezreal is in the audience? He doesn't hide it, rumors be damned, he's a fan he loves you! He hides it enough at his own stage lives, he is going all out with your fans. Lightsticks, fansigns, tees, ita-bags, he has it all. He loves you and wants Everyone to know he's a fan. VIP tickets, man is always right in front jumping and cheering, screaming fan chants, embarrassing you but also just making it so fun! He is in queue with his VIP pass for a Hi-touch too, embarrassing considering how he is already always snuggling you in your private time, yet here he was in public sneaking even more skinship from you.

- It's no longer any doubt to fans that Ezreal loves K/DA but whether you two were a thing? That was a mystery. He loves the fans shipping the two of you together though, he might not be allowed to openly declare his claim over you but, this was cute enough to satisfy him. He has a side fan account for you that is surprisingly popular with fans because for some reason, this account seems to always grab sneakily good photos of you in public.

- When you do hop by backstage to wait for him, he goes fucking crazy. The kind to happily yell your name as he runs and jumps into your arms. He loves you so much and so brightly, peppering your face in kisses, bragging about his perfect performance, excitedly telling you how some fans threw him gifts on stage. A warm smile as he places his sunglasses on your face, " Not bragging to make you jealous, I hope you know you're my one and only." A small kiss on your nose as he pulls away, flashing you a charming smile.

[wolfs-archive]

"Woah, now I know why you don't drink with us!!!!" || Part 1

Part 2 || Masterlist

Summary: Y/N has a secret crush on Felix. Little did she know he too liked her. All the boys are Y/n's friend as they go to the same college and live under the same roof. The other boys did know of Felix's crush but are clueless about Y/N. Little did the blooming couple know that an anesthesia would be the one bringing them together.

Pairing: NonIdol!Felix X Female!Y/N

Genre: slightly suggestive, fluff maybe, mentions of alcohol, high Y/N

Note: Y/N is sedated, The Felix or his other roommates mentioned here are no where related to the idol Stray Kids and are just a fictional character. Minors DNI please!!!

"Initially we give less dosage of anesthesia to patients who come for the wisdom teeth removal, since Y/N's so sensitive, we had to give her higher dose. So she would be high for some time, and would come to her senses after 8 hours. Meanwhile, if she faces any issues you can tell her to take the prescribed tablets. Also she is advised not to have any spicy or hard food for a week. Only liquid food for an entire day and soft food for the rest of the week." said the Dentist. "Thank you Doctor", Han said as he helped Y/N get up and made her go out . "Y/N, I'll get the medicines and you stay here" he babied her. "Who are you? I do what I want to." Y/N retorted. "Y/n ah, I know you are a brat, but I'll let this pass once, only just because you are under sedation" a triggered Han said as he left her on the chair to get medicines. On his way to the pharmacy, he met Hyunjin. "Han ah, where is Y/N? Chan asked me to tag along in case you needed help". "Bro, I have made her sit on the chair, can you please take a look at her. She is spewing nonsense. Such a menace she is." Han replied. After the medicines were bought, Hyunjin and Han helped Y/N walk on her way to their car. Hyunjin sat in the driver's seat and a staggered Y/N went to occupy the passenger seat. Not even 5 minutes later, she was transferred to the back seat and was made to sit with Han with all the fuss she created. "Chan, we are on the way back and .... Y/N!!! stop pulling my specs" Han yelled and after a heated argument Han relied to Chan about Y/N's diet and the dentist's advise.

Y/N is usually a bubbling extroverted girl. A beautiful girl who is one year younger than I.N. A person with both beauty and brains, had a lot of people courting her, but her eyes laid only on one of her roommate, Lee Felix Yongbok. Being a bratty roommate with others and making fun of everyone with all possibilities, she has always had a soft spot for Felix and has never made fun of him. The others had never doubted this because, she had treated him like how all would treat him. But be it arriving on time for a class, or making any meal, or saving a book she had all done it ready for him. Often the members would have late night outs and parties and she being the only girl was literally treated like a younger sibling and was never allowed for any late night parties. Whenever it would be, just "Saturday Nights" at their dorm, she would always insist on having orange juice or sparkling water rather than alcohol. The members though knew it, that it was because of her lower tolerance level and that she would be difficult to handle, didn't force her. On the other hand, she didn't want to because, she knew she would pour her heart out if she drank and didn't want to miss the friendship she cherished. So, it was only when she was with he girls that she drank. That was how much she loved him.

Similar to Y/N, Felix liked her but didn't open up his heart to her for the fear of loosing her friendship. He kept it to his heart, until one day, where they had a game of truth or dare during their "Saturday Nights" and he confessed to have feelings for a particular girl. Upon closely watching his previous movements, the group concluded that it definitely was Y/N. When he asked how, each of them had their own answers for confirmation. Seungmin said, "I saw you waiting for her after class, to walk along with her to our dorm, even thoug you didn't have class that day". " One night when I went to drink water, I saw you tucking up her bedsheet " Hyunjin replied. "I saw you having her as your wallpaper on your phone" replied Changbin. He also added, "I didn't mean to peak at your phone, remember; when I had asked for your phone to text the professor. It was that time I realised it". "Not to mention, we share the same room and one day I saw you texting her, you slept with your phone. When I tried to keep the phone on the table beside, I saw a notification with Y/N's name along with a light blue heart." replied the youngest. "Don't you think I know the way steal glances of her during our combined sessions?" asked the eldest. "I knew it the moment you told me weeks ago about how you wanted pasta for dinner just because Y/N had a bad day at college. You have never done it for anyone else" said Lee Know. "Remember the one day I borrowed your book for reference? Do you not remember what you had written in it? The entire book had Y/N's name on it just like how a psychopath writes a person's name" said Han "You have been too obvious with it around us. Y/N must be either dumb or must be really clueless about it" he retorted.

Back in the car, when Han cut the call, Y/N "Bro, where is my love? I wanna meet him" she said. An astonished Han, asked who it was for which she replied that he knew him. Hyunjin in the driver's seat replied "I guess Felix is screwed!!!" Meanwhile, "You Quokka like human, where is my love? I want to meet him. Kiss him... Please bring him here." Han knew it wasn't easy and not right either to bring words out from her, so he decided, "Y/N let's play this game 10 questions. I'll ask you 10 questions and you have to answer them honestly. By the time you are done, I'll bring you your love. Deal? " he asked. "Deal" she challenged.

Even after 10 questions, he was not able to find out who it was and had arrived to their dorm. Han and Hyunjin had tricked Y/N into make her believe that they were at her "Love's" home and that she had to go in to see him. As soon as she entered, she started yelling "Lee Felix Yongbok!!!! where are you?". Hearing her voice, Felix came out to see what was going on.... "Come here!!!!" she ordered as she sat on their sofa, pointing her hands, implying him to sit near her. "What is it Y/N?" asked Felix as he sat near her. A wild Y/N, grabbed Felix's shirt by the collar, just leaving a gap of 2 inches between them. She could feel his breath pace take off and her cheeks now tinted with red. With a raspy voice, she said "Do you know how much I love you? Those freckles and the cute smile is definitely the death of me. In the future, if I get married, I want it only with you and our kids will have beautiful freckles just like you" she confessed. Everyone were too stunned to speak at the confession. Meanwhile Hyunjin, "Han, we were so clueless, the entire ride she was talking about.... was it Felix????" Han replied "Now with what she confessed, I think, no conclude that it was definitely Felix." "You know why every time you call me to have drinks I deny? It is because, if I drink, I would pour my heart out. I don't know what is in your mind and if you don't like it, I would crumble into pieces. i wouldn't be even able to face you" she said. Her hands now across his neck as she pulls him in for a deep kiss. Breaking out from the kiss, Felix says" Who said I don't like you? I've always loved you, and will love you. " as he tucked the small fringe of hair behind her ears. " Woah, now I know why you don't drink with us. It's okay." he says, as he carried her to her bedroom.

Idk if y'all want Part 2. But if you want, please feel free to ask it in the comment section.

[lookatmysillies]

Character Intimacy Levels: S39 Pt. 1

Based on the character intimacy percentages from the art book. Covering my characters’ intimacy levels with characters they have notable relationships with within and outside of their classes. This is part 1 for my S39 kids, then there’ll be Non-Competitors (Eddy and Itsaso), S40 (Naz and Yael), and S41 (Light and Halo).

Send me an ask if I miss your character and you want to know the intimacy level between one of my ocs and yours!

Tallis

Himei: 100% You picked me, of all people. I don’t know why you picked me. Sometimes I worry you just took pity on me.

Tov: 100% Is this what it’s like to be truly understood? I never knew it could be like this. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt.

Eddy: 85% We met under the worst circumstances. Maybe that’s why I’ve grown to love you so fast.

Lang: 80% I just like to… sit with you. And watch you make things from nothing. You calm me.

Khoi: 78% We used to be closer, but after Sai and Vera… well, we’re just not as close anymore. Still, I think I love you very much. You taught me more than anyone ever has.

Nyx: 76% You can be cold and sharp, but I know you’re full of good. You’re my friend. I feel safe with you.

Stasya: 65% My roommate. You keep your things tidy like me. I like you a lot.

Sai: 64% After everything, I still wish the best for you.

Castor: 60% Your inability to take things seriously gets on my nerves. But you look out for me.

Noora: 45% What a sweet girl. You’re the first human I ever saw.

Flor: 25% I don’t get you…

Daiki: 25% Maybe we could be friends in another life.

Cirrus: 12% If only I knew you better. I feel like I can see the answer to life itself on your face, and then a million new questions.

Azure: 5% I think Tov likes you? You make me nervous.

Castor

Kyo: 100% Kyo, lovely soul, I’ve never deserved you, your gentleness, or your grace for someone who only hurts the people he loves.

Nyx: 96% Baby brother, I’d like to think I’d do anything for you. I hope I’m right.

Haneul: 88% You make me feel safer than I’ve ever felt. I used to find you difficult to understand. I understand you now.

Aurien: 75% You make me feel such love and protectiveness. And yet your trust in me scares me.

Faolan: 73% Hehe, you remind me of my Kyo!

Jae: 66% You make me laugh every day.

Flor: 50% You remind me a bit of—well, me.

Evon: 45% I hated when Kyo had a crush on you, but I could never hate you. You’re beautiful. You gave him solace in ways I couldn’t.

Dian: 31% My little redheaded buddy! You’re good for Nyxie, following him around all the time. He needs to not be in his thoughts so much.

Moran: 12% Therapy party pooper.

Tov: 10% Uptight and unnerving. You have qualities I respect, though.

Azure: 1% Ugh.

Solei: 1% Sometimes I can’t help but loathe you for flying. For saving Aurien. Because I couldn’t.

Cinna, Leto, & Light: 1% I’m sorry.

Ok boy oh boy let’s see who to tag

@ivanttakethis for Tov. @pwippy for Lang. @bittersweet-adagio for Sai and Khoi. @imperfectnothing for Nyx, Dian, Han, and Fao. @billwasnot for Stasya. @kamersona for Noora. @sotogalmo for Flor. @daiki1k for Daiki. @cirrusoftheclouds for Cirrus. @azureitri for Azure. @aurienneirua for Aurien and Cinnabar. @kofeedoggo for Jae and Evon. @geospiral for Moran. @solei-eclipse for Solei. Aaaand @14-alc for Leto. Jfc okay time to retag like 80% of these in comments now that I have all the users in one place

[gingernut1314]

Speak No Evil ch. 1

Toji Fushiguro x F!Reader

Summary: You get a call from your cousin who, five years prior, ran away with a man and became the disgrace of your family. She's sick and begs you to come take care of Megumi and his father when she's gone. You promise but are left feeling unsure when she continues to remind you he is a good man.

Warnings: pre-star plasma vessel, reader is the cousin of Mamaugro, reader is Tsumiki's mom, Tsumiki and Magumi are cousins, gendered terms, Mamaguro is sick and dying, mention of pregnancy, more Toji in the next chapter, more of a "background" chapter

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: Because I love Toji and because I love to hurt my own feelings and really really can't stop writing angst. I also know Megumi and Tsumiki aren't actually blood-related but I just really really don't see Toji going off and marrying a whole other person after his wife's death--mamaguro was a very special woman and I want to keep it that way. Tsumiki is still a Fushiguro so I just did it this way. I hope you enjoy!!

Tag list: @sordidmusings

↞ to Speak No Evil Masterlist | Jjk Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠ ch. 2

Your cousin had left home years ago. How the story goes, according to all the women in your family, she had ran away with a man. Not the boyfriend she had be with throughout high school. Not some boy she had met during her time at university. No. Some random man she had picked up on the streets like some feral, flea-ridden cat. 

“She had such a bright future.”

“Stupid girl. Throwing all that away.”

“Mother was the only one who caught sight of him. Said he was no good. Scruffy. Dangerous looking even. Just a bad bad man.” 

“I thought I had raised her better than this.”

And on and on they would go for hours. It was worse during family gatherings, naturally. More ears to listen in. More mouths to speak horrid things about your cousin.

“She was a slut. Slept around at university.” 

“It’s no surprise then she followed that man.”

“Maybe he is in a gang. Maybe he made her join.”

“All I can do is pray for her soul.”

You knew the truth. 

Your cousin had only been able to trust you and you had only been able to trust her in the entirety of the Fushiguro family. You two had been by each other sides since the day you two were born. Just one day apart and raised in the same home.

She hadn’t just been your cousin, she had been your sister and you knew she had loved that man. She had told you as much just days before she left. She loved him and he loved her and she had been ready to leave your horrid family behind.

You wished you had been able to do the same. You wished she had taken you with her, but she had left without a word. Had left in the dead of the night, leaving her bed unmade in your shared bedroom. No note no nothing. Just gone.

You had made the mistake of trying to defend her one too many times. Tried to tell your family she had truly found someone she had loved but they wouldn’t hear it. They would call you a liar and shake their heads in disappointment. 

“Speak no evil.” They would hiss alongside your name. 

“You’ll end up just like her if you keep spewing such nonsense.” 

“You better keep a close eye on your daughter. She has that look in her eyes. The same one her cousin had.” 

You stopped trying to defend your cousin and kept your mouth shut. Kept your eyes squeezed shut and ears covered as they spoke. 

During your last semester at university, you had gotten pregnant. The father was of no importance and you couldn’t even remember his name. Just some random hook-up in some random bar that you probably shouldn’t have even gone to in the first place.

Your family finally, finally stopped speaking ill of your cousin because they turned their lashing tongues onto you. 

It was a hard time. You only stayed because you needed a place to stay so you could slowly begin to save your money and leave.

You had a daughter you named Tsumiki; meaning the moon, beauty, and hope. She was your hope for a brighter future for yourself and she had given you the courage to finally leave. You took what very little you had and left in the dead of the night just as your cousin did a few years prior.

You moved to the city. Found work and did everything in your power to make sure Tsumiki grew up happy and healthy. 

Three years later you get a call from an unknown number. You typically didn’t answer such calls, knowing it was more than likely a scam call, but something in your gut churned. Something told you that you should answer and so you listened to your gut only for your heart to stop in your chest. 

Your name was spoken. A name said on a weak, shaky, near tear-filled voice. A voice you could never forget and one you had longed to hear despite its soft weakness. You said your cousin's name in a rush as you stood from where you had been playing blocks with your daughter.

“Wh-where are you? How have you been? Are you alright?”

“I’m…” She took a shaky inhale as if to steady herself. “ Listen. I’m sick.”

“Okay--okay, tell me where you are and I can take care of you.” 

“No. No, not yet just--I need you to know he’s a good man.” He. He the man she had run off with. “He’s a good man but when I die--”

“Die? You’re not going to die. Tell me where you are and I’ll come make you better okay.”

“He’s not going to take it well and--I have a son now. Megumi.” You said your cousin's name once more in something like a warning. A warning she didn’t heed. “He’s so precious. Looks just like his dad--kinda looks like you too. His hair is wild. Can’t tame it no matter how hard I try.” It sounded like she was crying now. Tears burned at your eyes too. 

“What are you trying to say? You’re--you’re not going to die okay. Just let me come help you and--”

“I’ve been told I only have a month left. In a month, you’ll get my address and I want you--no, I'm begging you to come here and remember that he is a good man despite his flaws. He’s trying his best with what he’s been dealt and--I don’t want him or Megumi to be alone. Please don’t let them be alone.” Your cousin cried. She sounded so weak--really weak and all you wanted to do was rush to her side and take care of her but you knew she wouldn’t allow that. “Promise me you’ll be there for them. Both of them. He’s a good man. He’s a good man.” 

Your mind floated back to all the nights your family spent talking of this mystery man your cousin had run away with. 

Demon, devil, scruffy, dangerous. They never painted a good picture of him…but you had defended your cousin and this man. You had defended them because your cousin had loved him and had always spoken so dearly of him. Just as she was now. 

“I--I promise. I’ll be there.” You spoke, voice breaking as you tried to wipe away your tears. Small hands grabbed hold of the fabric of your sweatpants and you found Tsumiki standing there, her own hazel brown eyes brimming with tears. Only three but she could sense the emotions waging within your chest. She was your little empath. 

“Thank you…I--I know I’m asking a lot.”

“You can never ask for too much. You’re my family. You can ask whatever you need from me okay.” You said despite your soul screaming out against such an ask. 

“Did you--did you get away from all them?” The rest of your family. Family you would do nothing for. 

“Yes. I--I had a daughter. Her names Tsumiki.” You could almost hear your cousin smile through the phone. 

“You’ve had that name picked out since we were little girls.” You chuckled, getting to yours knees so you could look over Tsumiki’s round face. You place a gentle hand on her cheek and she was quick to grab it, holding it close.

 “Do--would you want to say hi? She’s right here.” 

“Please .” You were quick to put the phone on speaker, holding it so Tsumiki could see the screen. 

“Kiki. I’m talking to your aunt. Can you say hi?” You said, brushing a strand of her brown hair behind her ear. Her eyes snapped to you, then to the phone, then to you again, looking shy as ever.

“Hi.” Tsumiki said shyly.

“Hi, sweetie. How old are you?” 

“Three.” She responded quicker, her grip on your hand never flattering. 

“Wow. You’re such a big girl now, huh?” Tsumiki didn't respond then, climbing into your lap and burying her face in your neck. 

“She’s a bit shy.” You chuckled, holding her tight against you. “Kiki, we’re going to meet your cousin soon. I think you two will be good friend.” She merely nodded against your skin. 

“Thank you.” You cousin spoke on a whisper. 

“I just--I wish you would let me come help you right now.” You heard the sound of a man’s voice in the distance. A deep thing the followed with the sound of a door shutting.

“I need to put all my focus on my boys right now. There is nothing that can be done for me. There is no cure no medicine. I’ve run out of luck and that’s okay but--I need to be with my boys until I can’t.” You heard the man call for your cousin and the ruffle of sheets as she moved. 

“What’s his name?” You asked, curiosity getting the better of you. 

“Toji.”

Next ->

[poppitron360]

After responding to @puzzled-pegasus’ ask about my lighthearted Leo hcs, I came up with a WHOLE BUNCH MORE so buckle up (these are mostly Valgrace)

1. Okay so I recently did a rewatch of all six Tinkerbell movies for this project I’m working on and for no other reason not just because they’re awesome and I KNOW FOR A FACT that Leo loves those movies (they’re a beloved classic in Cabin 9). The plot of the first movie is LITERALLY JUST “Hey making things is really cool and you don’t always need flashy nature powers to be useful and you should be proud of your gifts!!’ (The Tinker fairies are literally just Hephaestus kids with a green colour palette).

2. “Tinkerbell” is one of Jason’s nicknames for Leo. Leo pretends to hate it but he secretly loves it.

3. Jason started noticing that whenever Leo steals his hoodies the tags at the back always end up mysteriously being cut off. Leo hates them bc of sensory issues. Now, whenever Jason buys a hoodie, the first thing he does is cut the tag off so that Leo can wear it, too.

4. Leo once collected all the tags that he cut off his clothing and sewed them together to make a plushie and gave it to Jason to say thank you.

5. Gift-making is Leo’s love language. Jason’s love language is showing off those gifts.

6. “How to Train Your Dragon” is also one of Leo’s favourites, and he likes to curl up with Festus in Bunker 9 and watch all three movies plus the spin-off shows.

7. He references Vines CONSTANTLY. So does Piper. They like to watch compilations on YouTube and quote along to them. Jason is SO CONFUSED when they quote them out in public.

He’s just like “Why did you yell “LOOK AT ALL THOSE CHICKENS!!” When we passed by that field of geese earlier?”

And they respond with, in perfect unison- “Wouldn’t you like to know, Weather Boy?”

8. I feel like he’d be the typa guy who’s memorised the entire Bee Movie Script.

9. His favourite musical is “In The Heights” bc he knows all the Spanish and he also relates to Usnavi on a SPIRITUAL LEVEL.

10. One time he was a little too overenthusiastic doing the HOT TO GO dance and accidentally wacked Reyna in the face. They found her in the process of trying to tie him in a bag with a rabid dog to throw him in the lake.

11. *types text out in all caps* *deletes it and types in lower case* *thinks “ah, fuck it” and types it out in all caps again*

12. Carries around Uno Reverse cards in his pockets just in case. It’s actually gotten them out of some tough situations.

Monster: I’M GONNA KILL YOU!!

Leo *reaching into his tool belt*: ha!

Leo: UNO REVERSE!!

Leo: NOW WE’RE GONNA KILL YOU!!!

13. His favourite Taylor Swift song is “I can do it with a broken heart”

14. Kinda a genius at Puzzle games, videogames in general (in TLH he gets exited when he sees Beckendorf’s old bed had a gaming rig, and also canonically played Mario Party with Jason). He used to play those Lego Videogames as a kid. (He still does).

15. Also he’s the only person who can beat Annabeth at Chess. She gets SO MAD:

“It’s literally a war strategy game! How are you better than me?!”

“[Witty Chess Pun here], mi amiga.”

*Annabeth flips the board over*

16. I mean we all know that he plays with Lego, right? I like to think that’s how he designed the Argo II, by building it with Lego first.

17. Jason and Piper only find out that Leo’s real name is “Leonidas” AFTER he died. And now Jason would never get to tease him about it…

(I know Rick confirmed it wasn’t but I like it so I’m sticking with it)

18. He was actually very careful to not teach Hazel all the memes right away, and save a few for the perfect opportunity. After he told her about his plan to sacrifice himself, he goes up to her and says very solemnly “At my funeral, please- I want you to play my favourite song as you burn my shroud. It’s a beautiful song called “Never Gonna Give You Up” by a man called Rick Astley- it’s about strength and loyalty and devotion. I think if- if I don’t make it… it would be a fitting send-off.”

She falls for it SO easily, and Leo got to play a few tricks on his friends from beyond the grave.

19. I know his death was a serious matter, but you can’t tell me that Leo didn’t use it to mess with Frank and Hazel.

“Hey, Frank! Are you gonna finish that cookie?”

“Well, I was planning on-“

And then he gives him an “I’m about to die tomorrow” look and Frank just caves and gives him the cookie. Little does he know that Leo’s already scored two muffins and a chocolate bar from Hazel by pulling the exact same trick.

20. In a world where Jason survived, he also uses it to mess with him.

“Hey Leo, can you take out the trash?”

“Can’t you do it? I died to save you.”

21. When he turned 18, he actually got a “Hot stuff” tattoo just like the fake one he drew in MoA

[thatsnotmygunflash]

WIP Title Tag Game

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Thank you @incorrectcoldflashblog for the tag!! I have a ridiculous amount of WIPs, and this was a great way to finally sit down and make a list of all 92 of them 😅  I didn’t add my Sterek WIPs, mostly because there are 75 of them and I don’t have the time right now, but maybe I’ll do that at a different time. 

ColdFlash

A Brighter Future

An I’ll Use You As A Warning Sign 

Burn Notice

Cause Maybe You're That Thing I Need To Save Me

For Better Or Worse 

I Love to Hate Who I Was Because It Means I Could Change

I'd Cross Galaxies to Find You

I'll Tell You All About It When I See You Again 

I've Got Decades On You

It's The Second Glance That Ties Your Hands

Life Worth Fighting For

Love Me Silently 

Make Me Feel Seventeen Again

Maybe You Don't Know What's Lost Till You Find It

More Then What We Seem

No More Bad Boys

Romance Isn't Dead 

Side Effects May Include 

The Horrors I've Endured 

We Could Be Enough

Well Shit, If It Isn't The Consequences of My Actions 

What Are Friends For 

You Bring Stars To My Eyes

You Give Me Headaches 

You Got This Heaven In Your Eyes

You Know In Your Soul

You Need To Allow Me To Help 

You Should Be Here

Hannigram

A Day In The Life Of Someone Else

A Flight For The Fallen, Flies the Crow

I Dance With Demons On A High Wire 

I Won't Find A Way Out Looking Inside  

Batfamily

General 

409 In Your Coffeemaker

I Wish I Wasn't All Talk

I'm Your Mother Now

Never Gon' Get Away

One Of The Epics 

Robins Sanctuary

The Bat Academy 

The Nest

Waiting For Never

Tim/Jason

The Sparrows Tend To Fall Asleep

Dedicated To You

Everything Blurry Looks The Same

I'll Be A Better Man Today

Maybe If We Went Another Way

Product of Our Upbringings

Silent Protector 

Sit Back And Watch The Beauty In The Fall

The Robin To My Hood

You Are My Dream Come True

Your Name Has Echoed In My Mind

Slade/Dick

Falling Back Into You

Only One Place To Run To

Operation Osprey 

Relief 

Tim/Kon

Family Vacation 

Growing Pains

Wash Me With Your Water

Wayward Waynes

Buddie

Breakfast With Buck

Couches Make Great Metephors 

Call Me Anything But My Name  

Cowboy Like Me

The Other Mr. Diaz 

Am I Too Late

Ana vs. Buck

You Never Have To Pretend With Me

Who Gave You So Much Power?

MCU

Turn Back The Clock

Uncle Frank

Spideypool

How NOT To Seduce a Mercenary by Peter Parker

I'll Be Your Reason 

Same Side Of The Tracks

Spider Behavior 

Spideypool's First Couple's Retreat 

The Definition Of Insanity 

The Years Start Coming and They Don't Stop Coming

Yoda You Be My

People Say That's Love's a Game

Destiel 

73rd Hunger Games 

Cassie

Everything Went Right 

Family Engagement

Free Will Orphanage

The Rebels 

Weyler

A Little Bit Of Sugar, But Lots Of Poison Too

Courting an Addams

Love Drunk On Your Blood Till Sunrise

Percy Jackson

The Age of Prophecies

The Favored Son 

Trending Water in the Wishing Well

I'm tagging @thefastestqueeralive @simpledontmeanpeachy @vexic929 @nytephox @tiger-in-the-flightdeck @tiacat11 @whaaaaaaaalllle6 and who ever else wants to do it!

[visionsofmagic]

make you regret. | miguel o’hara x spiderwoman!reader  

[ao3 | masterlist | part 2]

summary: “keep talking shit and i’ll show you the other things i can do with that mouth of yours.” & “aw, it hurts? too bad. you’re gonna keep taking it until I’m satisfied.”

part 1 • wc: 2.4k • warnings&tags: nsfw, minors dni!, fluff (so little), chocking, oral > m!receiving, kissing, pet names, explicit language, angry and mad!miguel, SPOILER FOR THE MOVIE, biting, licking, squeezing, dominant!miguel, mentions of miguel’s features such as his teeth, brat!reader, no use of y/n, growling, moaning, getting used, roughness, harshness, and more in the story. enjoy! • couldn’t resist to write about him since I saw him in every app I use and well, I have a thing for him like the rest of you, so, hoping you will like this one. part 2 will come soon! [credits for the prompts]  

miguel was angry. you knew it. the moment you entered his personal room to give him a piece of information about the spot and miles morales, a spiderman from earth-1610 dimension, both are anomalies, and miguel needs to stop them before all things crash into each other. he thinks he has to do it - to keep everything in line, in order to prevent any unexpected event happen in a non-canon way.

however, you don’t agree with him, not after you and gwen talked about miles, seeing how she believes in him - how she has a soft spot for him. you know she tries to save miles, nothing wanting him to get hurt. you see your own reflection in her eyes. she cares for miles and you care for miguel but still, you believe he isn’t right completely, no, you believe there is another way to make everything right without hurting anybody.

so, he is mad at you and you know it from the way he looks at the door, then when sees you, he rolls his eyes, turns to the window, and looks outside.

“what is it?” he asks, clearly wanting you to leave soon because, well, you know how he acts when he is mad like this - nothing soft, just roughness that he chooses to show within his body language by fucking you hard and well, you are in a state in which you want him to devour you because you need it too, so, you tease him.

“what a beautiful greeting you have there pretty boy.”

“don’t call me that.” he nearly growls in annoyance.

chuckling, you get what you want; a miguel on edge, ready to make you regret speaking to him like that. “oh, you liked it yesterday, though, when you were -“ pointing to your thighs after sitting on his big bed. “between my thighs.”

only the memory of it made your stomach twist in pleasure and anticipation. he looked so pretty with his cute and teary eyes, looking up to see your face overflowing with the pleasure he was giving to you. your mind goes from his presence to last night and your thighs press into each other to feel something – but you stop when you hear his voice so closely than before. looking up, you see him right in front of you, his tight suit is on like yours, but you believe his suit is the best of you all – probably because of how his body looks thanks to it. his arms folded on his well-built chest, making him look bigger than before. his one eyebrow raised as he talks, “you have guts to come here after you tell me I am doing wrong in front of every fucking else and keep talking about last night?” he is more furious than he looks, you realize and well, it doesn’t help at all, especially when you feel the excitement. luckily, you are his ally, maybe more than that as you hope, not his enemy.

“yeah, I kinda do,” you say with a smirk on your face, being a brat, totally. “the expression on your face at that moment was surely worth seeing! I should take a photo of it only to put it on my wall and see –“

“huh,” he interrupts you, realizing what you’re trying to do and it makes him calmer now but you know he will make you going to pay, and when he says, “you sure have bravery today, not that I complain,” he smirks, holding your chin with his two fingers, making your head raise up as he kneels a little closer, “keep talking shit and I’ll show you the other things I can do with that mouth of yours, pretty girl.”

the air in your lungs decreases each second as your nose can’t find a source of air to breathe because of his words that made you freeze in your place, looking up at his determined face – he is about to make you regret.

“m – miguel – I.” you try to say when you see his eyes getting darker with each passing time and his fingers play with your parted lips.

“shh, keep it,” his fingers travel to your hair, playing with it softly, “you will have all night to say you’re sorry – that you didn’t mean to get me so angry, right, my pretty girl?”

gulping in both excitement and fear, you let him hold you by your neck, kneeling down to your level, pulling you closer, and beginning to kiss you passionately – reliving a lust through his lips mixed with madness on it as well which can be felt clearly since his hold on your neck become unsteady, making your hands grip the sheets of his bed.

moaning into the moan, you realize your legs begin to shake due to the weakness you begin to have – only because of knowing what will come next, still excited as hell for it to come sooner but you can’t say it aloud, not when he only acts to give you pleasure full of pain. “miguel! I – fuck –“ you moan when he bites your bottom lip, his teeth begin to appear slowly, alerting you that the night will not be easy.

“yes, like that, take everything I give to you while just moaning like a dumb for me,” he chuckles, that dark side of him taking some control of his soft side. fear and passion can be felt at the same time by you. “I bet you wanted it even before coming in here, didn’t you?” he asks, not seeking any answer to his questions – he just loves to talk in order to make you weaker each moment before him. “thought about it, planned it, wanted to make me wanna use that mouth of yours with the way I like most.”

he was right – he knew you more than you knew yourself and when words left his mouth, you came to the conclusion that you did it all on purpose all along the moment he looked at you with an angry expression and left you in there and still, letting you go after him no matter how he was angry with you. the bond you have is a complex one, both you and he knew it; him being what you need fully and you being his blood – the only taste he finds amusing to have.

“then, I will make your dreams come true,” you look at him with hope but his smirk only grows wider and darker, “In my own way, of course.”

oh, shit – you thought, he was going to do it roughly.

taking a little back, he looks down at your body, making you close your thighs together but he stops you, putting his legs between your thighs, opening them wider as you go back a little, palms behind you – on the surface of the bed, head raising up. “wider.” he commands, the voice turns into something that gives chills down to your spine as you open your legs wider – wide open that he can look at right into thighs, watching how the suit cling to your body fully, leaving lots of specific parts of your body visible to his eyes – another thing you did on purpose before arriving into his room.

“good – “ he says, “good girl.” so, he begins to use pet names now, well, it is a sign that these are the times he still acts soft before turning into a beast.

“miguel,” you try to say before his hands found your breasts over your suit, gripping them with his big hands. you can’t feel the warmness of his hands though and it only makes you want more, to feel him closely, not over your suit and not when his gloves are still on, “please. let me – let me take this off.” you point to the suit, hoping he will let you before it continues to give you half pleasure and half annoyance.

“huh,” he chuckles, playing with your hardened nipples, squeezing them not so gently. “did you believe I would be – nice enough to let you get pleasure so easily like that? oh, how delicate of you,” he kisses you again, biting it again. you sure he will leave a few red marks on there. “to think that I will be soft tonight.”

he then goes back, standing with his all glory, taking his hands back to put them on the lower part of the suit, and before your mind can make a comprehension of his actions, he opens his zipper, freeing his half-hardened thick and long cock right into your shocked face. saliva begins to appear on your half-open mouth when you see it. your hand makes an attempt to hold his cock but he is faster, gripping you from the wrist, tightly. you look at his face, “not hands. mouth.” he is not smirking or teasing no more, he just stands there, waiting for you to use your mouth.

“c’mon, open it,” he orders, and you listen to him without wasting any time, opening it widely enough but still, he is bigger than you can take. however, it isn’t like he used your mouth before – gently of course, but now, it doesn’t seem so gentle. “yeah, like that. a cock dumb – I will make you a cock dumb.”

you already are – just for him. however, you can’t tell it when he gives a few strokes to his cock, making it hardened and put it right into your open mouth in an instant, making you choke on his cock.

“m- mi – guel!” your voice is blurry as you close your eyes when he makes you take it all as much as you can.

“can’t speak freely when you have my cock in your wet mouth, huh?” he smirks again, taking his cock back, leaving so much salvia on your mouth that even a few of them connects your mouth with his cock, dripping into your suit from there and you only can cough in pain. pain – it is what you get a minute ago but still, you want to take it again. so, you look up at miguel’s face – satisfied expression on.

“again,” you say, confident of yourself. “I want it.” then, you open your mouth wider than before, leaning closer to his cock enough that its tip touches your lips from time to time as he strokes his length.

he chuckles, a little surprised by your words. “you are already a cock dumb for me, don’t you? fuck – I want to ruin you without even making you suffer. but, it should wait,” he puts his hand on your cheek, caressing it and then, moving to your back hair, pulling it roughly, earning a low growl from you which he enjoys – always. “I need to fill up that mouth of yours first fully.”

he nods to you and you know what you should do. firstly, you let your tongue slide on his cock from tip to the end, even giving a few licks on his heavy balls, making him growl – coming like melodies into your ears that you keep licking more and finally, you take half of it, trying to get used to it but miguel has other plans with you – rough and harsh ones; he holds your hair, pushing you forward. his cock touches the back of your mouth and you literally begin to cry in pain, choke on his cock, gasping, you try to take breaths but it is so hot – he is so hot.

salvias appear in your mouth, dripping from your lips onto his cock, making you move easier than before and you know he will not stop until he cums, so, you let him have his way with you; holding you from the hair, pushing your head forward and backward rapidly – roughly, moaning as he looks down at your pathetic face, his cock disappearing inside your wet eager mouth, earning beautiful sounds from you too.

holding his thick thighs, you try to find a source to stay still, not to fall into the ground because of the impact of him – fucking your mouth without thinking about the air you need, the pain you get, blurry vision because of tears running from your half-closed eyes to your cheeks, finally finding their places on his cock.

“m – mi –!” words can’t go out of your mouth which is getting used by miguel.

his gloomy eyes found yours, and the sight he sees makes him go deeper, want to remind you that silly actions and talks mean no good for you, not when you use them against his, even if they only have a purpose to be in a state like this, but apparently, you didn’t wait for him to be this rough. he didn’t too. nevertheless, he is having one of the best moments of his life.

“aw, it hurts? too bad. you’re gonna keep taking it until I’m satisfied,” he says, closing his eyes again as he throws his head back, feeling your warm mouth and lips around his cock. your nails scratching his thighs. “you gonna make me cum hard.”

and you do. it doesn’t take him any longer when you begin to moan in pleasure rather than pain, sending radiations to his cock, hands hug to his wrists, and you literally bounce on his cock. his hands hold you from the cheeks.

moaning, leaving a few growls, he says, “fuck, fuck – so good, so fucking good – !” and he cums into your mouth.

he stays still for a moment before looking down, seeing you look at him too. his one hand leaves your cheek while the other stays to caress it. he slowly takes his cock back from your mouth, letting all his semen stay in there too. when he takes off, you close your mouth, gulping a few times in order to leave no semen to go wasted, not after he gives you all.

breathtaking voices come from both of you. hotness spreading through your veins, keeping you warm. he says, “open your mouth.” you do, opening it. he nods in a satisfied manner.

your chest raises up and down while you are taking deep and rapid breaths to calm yourself down and miguel’s fingers find your eyes, cleaning tears away, getting softer.

“you look so pretty now,” he says, kissing your forehead, “but you will look prettier when you have my cock buried deep inside your walls doll.” he gives you a smirk and you realize it is not over – you're not even close to it.

“still wanna make me regret my words?” you ask, smiling, knowing damn well this is going much better than you think.

“no, not at all,” he shrugs, “I just want to put you in a position that you forget what you were having regret for.”

to be continued.

[jake-g-lockley]

I'm back :D

OKAY so I have TWO prompts you can feel free to pick from whichever you want!! if one has already been written/requests then thats okay (its mainly why i picked two jUST IN CASE!!!!!)

How aboutttttt the cutie pie moon boys with either prompt #15 or #21?! I DONT MIND EITHER WHICHEVER WORKS BETTER FOR YOU (im so indecisive and they're both so cute?!?)

THANK YOU LOVELY!!!

Poison Tree (Moon Knight x reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Wanna be Tagged?

Prompt: the spider-man meme where they're all pointing at each other but it's a conversation like *i said i didn't like you like that because you said you didn't like me" "but i said i didn't like you because you were literally in love with someone else" then "i only said i was in love with them because you didn't want me!

A/N: Heya lovelyyy!! Thank you so much for the ask, I switched it up a tiny bit but I hope you like it ehhehe.

Warnings: everyone here is an idiot istg, a touch of angst, them not being able to say what they need to say, seriously; they have three people in their head and they’re that dumb? AHAHAH, light allusions to smut.

Word Count: 2.1 k 

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Buying things was something that plagued you like a weird disease that never went away. You didn’t have this type of luxury when you were younger, your mother always forced you to save whatever money you made and scared you into thinking that you would not have a single cent on you when you truly needed it. Funnily enough, when you started earning your own money, you gave in and started to spend on things that your mother would frown upon.

You stared up at the shelf of books before you, sighing frustratedly as you gazed at the beautiful new covers. You cursed yourself for walking into the new luxury bookstore that opened in the mall, your mother’s voice echoing loudly in your head. You screwed your eyes tightly and tried to imagine something that would pull you away from both the thought of buying the book and the sound of your mother’s grating voice.

You were laying down on the couch, your body aching deliciously from the weight of something covering you. Your hands were preoccupied, carding through soft curls as large hands squeezed your sides. You were smiling down at the person who was cuddling you close and the person looked up at you, big brown, doe like eyes meeting yours.

“You know I have those books in my flat?” a voice pulled you out of your little daydream making you gasp as you whirled around and your eyes met the same brown eyes you were imagining. 

Steven Grant was smiling at you, his lopsided grin matching his curls that flopped to his forehead. Steven always looked comfortable and you always had the inevitable urge to squeeze him. Oh, how you yearned to press your nose into his chest as you hugged him close. You faked a scowl and Steven’s grin got wider as his hand shot out and gripped your wrist.

“If you behave, I’ll let you borrow them someday.” his voice twisted your insides as he pulled you away from the shelf.

Your heart swooned whenever you were around Steven. He and the other two were your poison tree, the bunch you had intended to stay far away from but couldn’t get enough of. He gently pulled your book bag off your shoulder and slung it on his own as the both of you walked to the cafe that the both of you hung out at on a weekly basis. You’d mark your student’s exercise books while Steven did his research on the ancient artifact he was writing about.

At times, you’d feel his eyes on you and you knew it wasn’t exactly Steven looking at you anymore

“Hi, Marc.” you said, without looking up from what you were marking.

“I still don’t get how you do that.” The deep Chicago accent makes you shiver slightly.

“Your posture changes, dummy.” you said, earning a chuckle from him.

“How are the kids doing this week?” he asked, leaning forward to take a look at what you were marking. 

“Pretty good actually, their grammar is getting better and I think they enjoy my classes.”

“I’m sure they do, princesa.” came the beautiful spanish drawl. 

“Now, what did I say about switching mid conversation.” 

A long pause greeted you and you finally looked up from the book you were marking to see Jake staring at you with a satisfied smile.

“That it’s rude?”

“Mhmm.”

“I made you look though.” he winked at you and your insides turned into pure mush.

Outside, you rolled your eyes and casted your eyes back down onto the exercise book, holding back a grin of your own. 

“So, how is Mr. Daniels?” 

Your eyebrows furrowed and you looked back at Marc who was now leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed in front of him. You didn’t get why he would always ask you about the math teacher, you only called Mr. Daniels cute once in your life. 

“He’s good, I guess.” you took a sip of your coffee and bowed your head, not letting Marc see what was clearly written all over your face.

For months, you have been trying to get rid of the feelings you felt for the three men. They were absolutely beautiful and had personalities that fired up your very being, but an unfortunate incident stood between you and them.

Flashback

You and him were a little too close, you could see all of the little details of his face. You and him had demolished a bag of doritos and the empty wine glasses made the both of you giggle incredulously. You didn’t know who you were looking at, the alcohol muddling your brain as your eyes zeroed on the doritos dust at the side of his mouth. 

“You know I was thinking of asking Dylan out, the tour guide at the museum.” Steven’s voice burned a hole through your heart and you smiled, hiding the pain that coursed through you.

“You should.” you whispered, trying your hardest not to let your heart betray you.

“Jake suggested for me to take her out to that steak shop.” he leaned back into the sofa and stared up at the ceiling. 

“And what are you gonna eat there, silly.” you stifled a giggle.

“I dunno, bread, salad?” 

You tried to laugh the best you could despite the achy feeling at the pit of your stomach. 

End of flashback

“How’s Dylan?” you asked. 

“She’s alright.” Steven said softly. 

“Hmm.”

Your eyes caught a couple behind Steven and you smiled gently as one of them kissed the other one’s knuckles.

Jake noticed and turned around too, turning back to you with a grin and plucking the red pen out of your hand before suddenly taking your hand in his. Your heart blazed when you felt his lips on your knuckles and your breathing stopped for a second, his eyes shining with mischief. You quickly snatched your hand away from him and you could note the change in the way his eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“Hey, you know I was just joking, it didn’t mean anything.” he said quickly. 

It didn’t mean anything.

“Yea, I know, Jake , you don’t like me like that.” you said before you could stop yourself.

Jake’s thoughts raced as Marc and Steven panicked inside his head. They weren’t supposed to like you like that but they do and they wanted to stand on top of the table that you both were at and scream that fact at the top of their lungs.

You couldn’t mark anything anymore, with the way he kept reminding you of your failed love life. Your failed, unrequited love for them. You snatched the pen back from him and tapped the book in front of you, thinking of your next move. You quickly grab your phone and text one of your friends, Sam. Code red, the code you always used to get out of situations you didn’t like and you were feeling really uncomfortable with the energy you had created. 

A few minutes later, to your pure relief, your friend called you.

“Oh, umm, I have to go, Sam is stuck in a … situation.” you say as you frantically shove your stuff into your bag.

“Right, let me help you with that.” Steven said, standing up, a worried look on his face.

“It's okay, I got it.” you gave him a reassuring smile and tucked a five pound bill under the coffee.

“I’ll see you.”

“Yeah.” Steven rubbed the back of his neck, wondering if he had said anything out of the way, his heart pounding as he watched you walk out of the cafe.

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You woke up hours later to a knock at your door. Your face was wet and you checked your phone for any messages, absolutely shocked to see about 14 missed calls from the boys, another five from your best friend and dozens of messages. You flung yourself out of bed and ran to the front door

You opened it to see a frantic Jake standing outside, his hair a mess. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you and hugged you close, mumbling something into your hair in spanish.

“Shit, I thought something happened when you didn’t answer your calls. I called Sam and she couldn’t get a hold of you.” Jake’s voice was bubbling with tears and you looked up at him in shock. 

“Jake, I-” suddenly, his lips were on yours and you felt yourself being lifted off your feet.

The kiss was as frantic as he looked and you became putty in his arms as you tried your best to steady yourself. You pulled away and stared at the man in front of you, only to see Steven’s eyes staring back. Your hands came up to touch your lips and you couldn’t help but touch his lips too. 

“Sorry, fuck, I know you’re with-” you cut him off with another kiss and you felt all of your worries wash over you.

Your hands grip his face and you hold onto him until the both of you are out of air. 

“Fuck, what about Dy-” you pulled away and started to say, but Marc pushed you against the wall and caught your lips with his again, wordlessly asking you to jump as he gripped your hips hard. 

You jumped and wrapped your legs around his torso, your bodies sandwiched together. Your hands carded up his curls and you pulled on them for purchase, causing him to groan against your lips. 

“Wait, Marc, Jake, Steven, what’s happening.” you pull away, your confusion creeping up the satisfied feeling that you were feeling. 

You couldn’t tell who had control of the body as they pushed their forehead against yours, just holding you against the wall. 

“I don’t know,” you heard Steven’s voice whisper as he ducked his head lower.

Your hands were still in his hair and you pulled him closer.

“Put me down.” you whispered after a while and unlocked your ankles.

Their eyes were casted downward as they tried their best to not look at you. You pulled them to your dining table and busied yourself with making a cup of tea, chewing at your swollen bottom lip, wondering what had just happened. You wanted to feel it again so bad, the passion they pushed upon you was so fiery that you wanted nothing more but to have it course through your veins again. You sighed as you pushed the cup of tea in front of them.

“Whoever is fronting, could you please just explain what happened?” you calmly asked. 

When their eyes met with your’s, you could clearly see Marc’s sadness and it crushed your heart.

“We’re sorry we springed on you like that.” he whispered. “The truth is, I- we are in love with you.'' The last bit of his sentence came out like it was a harsh secret, clawing its way out of his voice box. 

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Fuck.” was all you could say as you swallowed down your own tears. 

“But we know that you don’t feel like that for us, so you-” he continued. 

“Wait, who said that?” you cut him off, your heart thudding in your chest.

“You did.” Steven mumbled. “Just now, we only said that we didn’t like you like that because you made it clear how you felt about us.” 

“But- but I only did that because you have feelings for someone else! You know? The woman you are dating!” 

“We only said that because you said you found the math teacher at your school cute!” Marc slammed his hand down, making you jump. “We’re not dating Dylan!”

“I was joking, you dumbass! Oh my fucking god!” you slammed your hands down and stood up, pushing Marc’s chair back and straddling him without another word.

You kissed him like you meant it, putting your soul out there so that it would meet theirs. All the anger you felt was channeled back into the kiss and you wanted them to choke on their own passion with the way you pressed yourself against them. Marc sighed against your lips and melted away, letting the body switch frantically between Steven, himself and Jake. When you finally felt satisfied you pulled away and gave them a small smile.

“You boys love me huh?” you brushed their fringe away from their face and looked into the eyes that held the only three that you would hand your heart to. “Well, I love you too, cowards.”

“Hey, watch who you’re calling a coward.” Steven’s hands gripped hard at your hips as he grinned up at you, leaning in and kissing you softly. 

After a while he brought his lips next to your ear, he whispers “This coward won’t let you borrow his books until he makes you forget your own name.”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head, wondering what awaited at the top of the poison tree you managed to climb up on. 

Reblogs are appreciated ~~~

Taglist: @fandxmslxt69 @randomnessfangirl @in-between-the-cafes @bodhisattva11 @marc-spectors-wife @nyotamalfoy @steven-grants-world @jbearre85 @whatsliferightnow @excitedcurtain864 @minigirl87 @wonderfulboiledcoldpotato @alexxavicry @autismsupermusicalassassin @flordelalunas @marygraceee @lia275 @euphoricosmo @sky-robin @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sugarpunch-princess @violet-19999 @celiaswife @swiggy-needs-mental-help @ghostheartbeat @kierramofficial @ryebreadsworld @your-voice-is-mellifluous @lil-stark @absolutelybloodyhopeless @mintpurplemnm @spookyysilverr @bubblezuku

[heretherebedork]

In Which I Absolutely Lose My Mind Over Pennhung

Pennhung is my most beloved and I would watch him in every scene even if it made no sense for him to be there. His tiny hat! The way he smiles! The fact that he's always thinking! I loved him from the moment he waxed poetic about croissants and I fully expect to only love him more.

His real fear in that kitchen was real. I also would not trust anything any of them cooked. He never hides his feelings but he doesn't speak up, doesn't criticize anyone, just watches them because he's absolutely the best boy ever.

His awkward words! The third person in the subtitles! The way he holds the lamp with both hands! He's so tiny and so awkward and he is just doing his best at all times. He puts down the little triangles to guide them home because he knows that getting lost won't help them! He is thinking in ways no one else does!

He loves those ducks from the instant he sees them and he makes sure they are not just loved but also cared for by everyone because you have to love your pets, you have to be able to take care of others in order to take care of yourself. He helps everyone to insure that the ducklings are okay and safe and fed and gives them all the knowledge they need.

The way he apologizes and begs not to be punished for defending himself, the obvious trauma that had led him here. This is an actually autistic character who is trying to cope with a world that has always punished him for being himself, that has pushed him down and locked him up and told him he was wrong for who he is and it breaks my heart to see him.

(Bonus: Please enjoy the bully getting slapped for being mean to Pennhung, may more punishment follow him for the rest of the series.)

And now the Pennhung Protection Squad is born and must also be protected at all costs.

Pennhung is brilliant and strong and fragile and beautiful and amazing and I love him so, so much. He named his duckling Baby Duck! Protect this boy at all costs. Please. Someone. Anyone. Everyone. Protect this boy.

And this is where you know how much he's going to hurt. Because he is so easy to manipulate because he doesn't understand how easily other people lie, how easily other people bend the truth or fake their emotions. He has no way to see past their smiling masks and fake apologies to the truth of how they're using him. And then he even went out before the storm and made sure to save their ducklings along with his own because he promised to protect them and care for them.

Protect him at all costs.

And we are not talking about how Hugo switched the tags to get him in trouble or how illegally absolutely traumatizing that ending was or how it was obvious that they knew the tag had been switched and still punished him for that conscienceless bastard's unwillingness to help him or how the protection squad stood up for him and I just... I can't.

Please, protect this boy and let him be happy again by the end. Give him friends, give him protection and comfort, let him matter to people and let the ones who would and will hurt him suffer for it.

(Do I already have a tiny corner of my heart dedicated to shipping him with Tibet? Yes. Yes I do.)

[sophie1973]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you so much to my beloved @stellarm and @onthewaytosomewhere for the tags

Since I posted a big chapter for Bloodstream yesterday (here) I took a break for 24 hrs and focused on my other (small town/lake house) WIP

Story : Henry is a hotelier in London, but his life has become unbearable, so he flees to Texas, where he inherited a house from his aunt (yes I gave Arthur Fox a sister).

I promise I'm working on a better summary. Also, this is a first draft.

The view of the lake is stunning.

Henry puts his messenger bag on the kitchen counter, taking in the inside of the house. There is a spacious cottage-style kitchen with all the modern appliances. A couple of steps lead to a cozy living room with a stonewall fireplace and comfortable couches. There’s a gigantic bookshelf filled to the brim with books, and he smiles for the first time in weeks.

He knows his aunt Marjorie shared the same taste in books as he does, so it’s good to know he’s covered for a while, mainly since most of his own, aside from a few favorites, remained in England. 

And he’s not going back for a long, long while.

He needed to get his suitcase out of the rental car, but his priority was to get David out after the one-hour-and-a-half drive from Austin so he could do his business—directly on the car's tire, no less- and get into the house.

This house left to him by his aunt, who probably saved his life by doing so.

He can still hear Pez’s voice in his head (“Just go, Hazza. Fuck that Wicked Witch of the West. I’ll miss you, but I prefer you alive.) and Bea softly smiling at him because she knows. She understands.

That same smile looks at him from the picture on the kitchen counter, a teenage Bea with her arm around him, always the protective big sister. He stares at his own face, a young boy with a big smile, and wonders how it all went so wrong.

Next to that picture is another one of Marjorie and Arthur. They are in their mid-twenties, looking young and beautiful. She never followed in her brother’s footsteps, choosing a quiet life away from the media, but unlike him, she had the chance to grow old and live a fulfilling life. 

His father remains eternally young, his face and smile frozen in time in family pictures and film pellicles.

A sudden wave of grief grips Henry’s chest, making him stumble, and he sits down on the steps, trying to catch his breath. He hasn’t had one in a while, probably because he was too busy packing his stuff and leaving everything behind.

His job, which he loves, but he can’t bear the toxic environment created by his grandmother anymore.

His family, even though he will only truly miss Bea. They have promised each other to keep in touch several times a week despite the time difference, and she will come to see him soon.

London, where he lived all his life. 

So here he is, 5000 miles from home in Small Town, Texas (otherwise known as Horseshoe Bay), where he doesn’t know anyone and has no idea what the Bloody Hell he will do with his life. 

It is terrifying. Part of him knows he should find it exhilarating, but he is having trouble connecting with his optimistic self right now. 

He doesn’t even know where to start.

Henry feels a wet nudge at his arm. He looks down, sees David looking at him with his big puppy eyes, and laughs through tears he hadn’t realized were falling. The beagle puts its paw on his arm and tries to lick his face, and he pulls the dog against him, pressing a kiss and nuzzling his nose in its soft fur.

“We’ll be alright, my darling. We’ll be alright.”.

No pressure tag, and sorry if you already did it and I missed it : @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @piratefalls@anincompletelist@itsmaybitheway @tintagel-or-cockleshells@orchidscript@happiness-of-the-pursuit@pridepages

[snowviolettwhite]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad. This is a preview of the first chapter of my upcoming 911: Lone Star fan-fiction.

Working Title:"little boy don't you cry the child in you is still alive, daddy can you die from a broken heart."

It is beautiful autumn day in the city of New York, and the 2010 homecoming week for the Manhattan school districts.

The fourteen-year-old and ninth grader Tyler Kennedy Strand who goes by Tk is riding high.

The beginning of high school has started out great for him. He joined the school marching band playing the drums. His mom and stepdad have been taking him to the ice-skating ring to prepare for hockey try outs the are happening in a few weeks. Tk wants to join the baseball team in the spring too, so his dad has been taking him to the batting cage and park so they can practice and spend time together with him. He is still super good friends with Tommy and Mikaela from the middle school, but it is no longer play-dates. They aren’t little kids anymore.  

They hang out now and went to see Twilight in movie theatre last weekend and then played video games.

His divorced parents, Gwyneth Morgan and Owen Strand have been civil with each other for the most part and have even started allowing him to take the subway without an adult and got him his first cellphone. It is a blue and black flip phone with a little tiger charm. It is nothing fancy, he can call and text.

His parents have set rules to allow him more independence as he is growing up and becoming a young man. It annoys him sometime because it feels likes he is being babied compared to his peers. He understands he really does and does not really blame them; he knows where they get it from but the does not make him feel any better. His mother being lawyer knows how messed up the world is and tries to help those struck by unfairness of it. His father sees tragedy every day and there are some days where he can’t save anyone.

They want to protect him, they know how he is, he knows how he is. Tk was and is still sometimes a clingy shy sensitive child, he is friendly and outgoing once you get to know him but bringing him out of his shell is hard work. He is embarrassed by it and tries hard to not to be so needy and dependent on his parents or teachers, everyone needs support, and everyone has their own issues. So, what if he is not best at reading social cues or needs to take some special classes or it takes a little longer for him to reach certain milestones or needs more support and structure than other kids his age. But no matter how many times he is told how much he is loved he still feels like a burden and like maybe he is being lied to. He won’t ask for help, if you want to Tk to tell you what is wrong you must force it out of him.

If Tk wants to take the subway by himself he just needs to have his cellphone with him, updates his parent and is home before dark or tell them where he is. Which is better than nothing, given how overprotective his parents are Tk thought it would be a long time before he could ride the subway by himself.

He got even got his first boyfriend Alex and has had his first kiss. Tk is planning to ask him to the homecoming carnival, today. Alex is seventeen and Tk looks at him the stars looking at the sun. He is so cool. He rides his motorcycle and skateboard to school. He brings Tk along for the rides sometime with him gripping tightly on his waist.

Alex is an artist, painting and drawing in oil and watercolor. Tk could watch him paint for hours and did, his friends covered for him. He models for Alex, Alex asks if Tk could model for his paintings. He calls Tk beautiful. He tells him Tk you’re so beautiful. You are like a priceless piece of art, my beautiful handsome smoking hot boyfriend. The words paint blushes across the younger boy’s face, his cheeks glowing rosy pink and red. Nobody had ever spoken about like that to Tk before.

Tk starts sneaking at night by climbing out his bedroom windows and down the fire escape. Alex would be sitting on his motorcycle waiting for Tk to climb down the ladder and then they would drive off. Alex took him on his first date. He went to his first high school party. Tk really likes Alex, he is love with him.

“Tk, Tk it is time to wake up and get dress.” Owen says gentling shaking his shoulder.

No pressure - @paperstorm @wheelerthefroghere @anewkindofme

@whataboutthefish @hopelessromanfic @serendipitous-magic

@bunny-lou @mylesimeblr @unsurpassedtravesty