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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 5 months ago

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Chapter 6: Best Friends Forever

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy.

Word Count: 9.9K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), derogatory comments, sexism, swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension, little bit of homophobia (It's Soldier Boy). Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

A/N: I know I said I was gonna be more angsty with this chapter, but I got distracted, the sun was in my eyes, and my hand slipped…

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The next morning Mike’s screeching begins all over again, but today he starts with "My Girl" by the Temptations.

He's getting warmer.

You think with a smile, singing along to the song under your breath as you prop yourself up on your pillows with a content sigh. The smell of gardenia wafted over your bed in a gentle wave as your curtains opened, allowing the sunlight to drift over your bed. The beautiful white flowers bloomed from the plant sitting on your bedside table, each petal frosted with mist from the mister hanging on the wall behind it.

Gardenias reminded you of home. They were your grandmother's favorite. There were several large bushes gracing the front yard of her home that rose almost as high as the second story. Whenever you were back home you would make sure that they burst into bloom so she could fill her home with the sweet smelling flowers. It helped you relax and sleep at night, though sometimes it didn't do much to keep the nightmares away.

You hadn't had a good night sleep in a while, but after Ben and you had been up late putting together the bookshelf that stood proudly in the left corner of your bedroom, you were exhausted. Now it was filled with your worn brightly colored paperbacks and covered with a healthy amount of pothos vines as was everything else in your home, but you loved it.

When the delivery men had arrived late yesterday evening and they had been more than willing to carry the couch up the three flights of stairs, but Ben had told them to leave and said "I'm not some kind of pussy that waits for her fucking husband to come home because she needs him to change a lightbulb."

And so they left, leaving Ben and you with the box your unassembled bookshelf came in and a giant three piece couch.

Mike's mother had set up a folding chair with her best friend Mary Ann outside on the sidewalk, drinking glasses of wine and giggling like schoolgirls each time Ben and you came back down to haul another piece of the couch back up into the apartment. He tried to make you sit upstairs and wait for him to bring it in, but you had cussed him out and held up the only finger that mattered.

Putting together the bookshelf hadn't been that much better. Ben had almost broken two of the tiny wooden pegs that secured the back panel all the while cursing under his breath when you tried to show him the instructions.

And being in the presence of the instructions seemed to trigger Ben. It immediately turned the two of you into the couple in the car that bicker over a map before they get murdered in a horror movie.

The shouting got so loud that Mike raced over hopeful that Ben had broken your heart and that he would there to pick up the pieces, while Mike's mother followed in quick pursuit hoping to console Ben.

But when Ben had answered the door sweaty and shirtless- because you'd ripped his shirt on accident when he tried to walk away from you muttering something about "women and their fucking instructions" and you'd grabbed him while shouting "say it to my face you geriatric asshat!"- Mike thought that he had interrupted something else and retreated back to his apartment in shame while his mother stood in the hallway waving a hand in front of her face to calm down.

As annoying as Ben was, you loved the bookshelf. It was perfect for your bedroom and looked a little whimsical, which was how most of your apartment looked with the mismatched vintage furniture, all the plants, and the crocheted blankets. What you couldn't figure out was why he bought it for you.

You had relented on his purchase of the couch, because it did make sense, he was spending the most time on it, but his purchase of the bookshelf confused you. He'd been in your bedroom all of five minutes a few days ago and had only looked at the pile of vine covered books once.

So why did it bother him so much that I had a pile of books on the floor of my bedroom? Why did he have to buy it for me? Why did he care enough to?

No one had ever done that before for you. Your high school boyfriend, Newton, had seen the same pile of books in your bedroom back home every time he came over and never did anything about it, but Ben had only seen it for a moment and remembered.

I don’t understand why he’s acting so nice. You stretch your hands up over your head and begin to get out of bed. Probably because he thinks if he’s nice I’ll sleep with him.

The thought was becoming familiar, but you weren't sure what other reason it could be for. The two of you had nothing in common. He was always angry, sexually forward, annoying, not to mention he was from another century and he didn't understand anything about the present time.

I mean sometimes it's kinda cute how clueless he is about stuff like that. He always gets that adorable frown and- Nope, nope, nope not thinking about that right now.

Bean purrs in agreement with your thought at the end of your bed, stretching his front legs and arching his back. His charcoal fur looks almost silver in the light from the sun that streams through the open window leaving behind the imprint of the brilliant square on your comforter.

Bean had enjoyed watching the two of you put together the bookshelves, well, he enjoyed playing in the box that the bookshelf came in. He ran in and out, back and forth through the openings on both sides of the box, using it like a tunnel all the while Ben complained over the small screws and even smaller pegs that never seemed to fit where they needed to.

Personally you just think Ben was jealous that you knew how to read the instructions and he didn't.

And last night you understood just how bad Ben was at receiving directions. He had ignored you when you tried to help him, which had lead to the yelling match that Mike walked in on.

But you still didn’t understand why he cared so much about the pile of books in your bedroom. They'd been sitting there since you moved in, because you hadn't found a proper place for them, not to mention the pile just kept growing.

At least he didn't look too closely at the titles. The last thing I want Ben to know is how many romance novels I read.

You grab a bundle of your clothes and open your bedroom door, while Mike continues to sing "My Girl." You creep down the hallway, intent on taking a shower, but your curiosity gets the better of you, so instead of going to the bathroom, you peek into the living room.

Ben is sitting on the new charcoal couch that you crammed into the room, reading a newspaper and you have no idea where he got it.

Maybe he already left sometime this morning? Guess he can be quiet when he wants to be.

Bean prances down the hallway behind you and jumps onto the back of the couch, kneading his paws in the soft pillows, before dropping down next to Ben. Ben smiles at the cat and folds the newspaper closed so he can scratch him under the chin.

"Hey buddy." You hear him mutter. "Y/n up yet?"

Bean only purrs and rubs himself further into Ben's hand.

"Don't know how anyone can sleep with that jack-off next door." Ben rolls his eyes, but doesn't raise them from the cat that has begun to crawl into his lap. "Why does she hate me so much?" He whispers to Bean with a sigh.

His question made you freeze where you were standing in the hallway. It was so open, so honest, so completely unlike Ben. It was the last thing you were expecting him to ask your cat, well, honestly you didn't think that he would talk to the cat at all. You suddenly wondered what other things he said about you when you weren't around.

And why does he care so much if I hate him? I mean I don't, he just gets on my nerves constantly, and knows how to press all my buttons.

You liked to think that you were an easy-going person, but Ben drove you crazy. You'd never met anyone who could do that to you before, never allowed yourself to get angry, not even when Poppy Mansfield who put chocolate pudding on your seat at lunchtime when you were in fourth grade and made everyone think you'd pooped your pants. You'd only shrugged and walked to the bathroom, it was Annie who lost it. Annie had grabbed a handful of pudding and smeared it on Poppy's face and earned her the nickname "Poopy Poppy" until she transferred to another school at the end of the year.

But not with Ben, he crawled under your skin and stayed there whenever he teased you . Usually you let insults and teases roll off your back like water off a duck, but not with Ben. He knew what to say to make you lose your temper. You didn't know how he did that.

Not all the time though.

The trip to IKEA had been kind of fun, well, fun until Ben had insulted your boss and when the two of you watched a movie together it was fun.

In fact, the more time you spent with him, the more you were starting to like him. You wish you didn't. It just made everything harder. You remember what he said at the plant shop, tried to burn it into your heart, that he didn't care about feelings or emotions and you did. You wanted to be with someone who cared about that, someone who understood everything about you, and loved you. You wanted love so bad your heart ached sometimes, and yes maybe you read way too many romance novels, but you wanted something like that to happen to you. You wanted to be so wrapped up in someone else that the world faded away, someone kind and sweet, who remembered little things like how much you liked gardenias or how much you loved pineapple iced tea from the place just around the corner and someone who would be okay with sitting on the couch or in bed, with you laying back in their arms while you read your newest book or tried to crochet.

Ben didn't care about any of that, probably what he would call "pussy shit." He just wanted sex, plain and simple, nothing more, nothing less.

And you didn't want just sex.

You didn't want to start something with Ben, develop strong feelings for him, and then only have him push you away as soon as he got what he wanted. You couldn't handle having your heart broken again. Newton had been enough and after him you told yourself you were going to try harder, were going to find someone who saw your self-worth. Of course that had been a few years ago and each year kinda felt like another nail in the coffin when you went on countless dates with people who never seemed to want the same things you did.

Plus, you were sure that Ben was only interested in you because you kept saying no and that made you "exciting" or whatever. So that just meant you were going to have to keep trying to find someone else.

You take a step back into the hallway, creeping further away as silent as possible. You didn't want him to catch you spying on him and you didn't want him to know that you had heard him ask Bean that. You force your door closed, before putting your clothes in the bathroom and shuffling down the hallway, purposely being as loud as you can so Ben can hear you over Mike's inhuman screech.

“Good morning.” You say as you enter the living room, as if it’s the first time.

“Morning Petals.” Ben looks over the back of the couch. He smirks as his eyes trace over your body. “Don’t you look delicious this morning.”

Your shorts were a little shorter than what you usually wore, hitting the middle of your thigh, and the oversized shirt you wore hung over them giving the illusion that you weren't wearing anything underneath it.

He is so confusing sometimes. Maybe he really just doesn't know how to talk to a woman in this century. Did that really work for him before? Does that work with all his dates?

“Thanks.” You say dryly.

Ben’s smirk twitches and something passes through his eyes that looks a little bit like regret, but it’s gone as soon as you see it.

You turn towards the kitchen. You didn’t know what you were looking for, truthfully you were just making conversation because you felt bad about what Ben asked Bean. You didn't know why that hurt you so much for him to think that you hated him, maybe it had something to do with everything that he'd been through. You wave a hand, perking up the plants in the box over the sink and the raspberry and blackberry vines covering the refrigerator to distract yourself.

“Um-“ You begin, but Ben interrupts you.

“There’s coffee in the microwave!” Ben suddenly blurts.

“What?”

Why is it in the microwave? Shouldn't it be in the coffee maker?

You sniff the air for the tell-tale smell of coffee, but smell nothing. A glance in the direction of the coffee maker reveals that the pot is still sparkling clean from when you washed it out last night.

Is he really lying about coffee? It's like he wants me to hate him.

“Um I mean-“ Ben clears his throat. “I got you coffee.”

“You got me coffee?” You parrot, surprised. “When?” You turn to look at him. He's watching you from over the back of the couch and he almost looks a little awkward, like he's not sure where to go from here as if he's not sure what to do when he does something nice for someone.

“I went to get a newspaper and I walked past a coffee shop.” He shrugs as if suddenly uninterested turning back around to face the jasmine covered wall, picking his newspaper up and opening it.

But you have a suspicion that he wasn't actually reading it, that he was just using it as a prop so he didn't have to look at you anymore.

“Oh. Thanks." You open up the microwave and withdrawal the still warm coffee mug taking a sip.

How in the fuck did he know how I like my coffee? You think to yourself, about to do a spit take you were so shocked, because the coffee was perfect. "How did you know-"

"I read the label on the one plant boy bought you the other day." Ben doesn't look up from his newspaper. "Is it… okay?" He asks it tentatively and a little awkward.

"Yeah. It's perfect actually. Thank you." You say it almost robotically. You couldn't believe that he remembered something like that about you. That he actually thought about you when he went to get a newspaper this morning.

He grunts a "You're welcome."

You take another sip and place it back in the microwave. Preparing to go back to take a shower.

"Do you…" Ben clears his throat again. "Do you work today?" He says it hesitantly.

"No. I usually have Friday's off because Annie and I make plans, but this week she cancelled because Hughie got tickets to some concert a few hours away and they're making it a day trip or whatever." You tried not to sound disappointed, but Friday's were usually you and Annie's day. You would plan random trips to shops in NYC, go to brunch, find ridiculous tourist attractions, try new restaurants, or you would go spend the day in Central Park reading. But Friday nights were wine, greasy pizza, sushi, Chinese food, snacks, and movie nights, had been since your parents died. It had been a family tradition before, Friday night films, but when they died Annie took it upon herself to continue it with you because your brother hadn't been willing to. Of course, when you were kids there wasn't wine, there also weren't movies with Glen Powell or Pedro Pascal, but as you grew so did the films and the conversations and the men, but your friendship blossomed with it.

"Oh." Ben leans his head back over the back of the couch, the smirk back in full force. "Well I've got a few ideas for what we could do today. Sounds like you're a little disappointed there Petals. I'm sure I could cheer you up."

You roll your eyes. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Great, I need one too." Ben jumps to his feet, leaving the newspaper on the couch as he turns to follow you.

"Ben." You sigh his name in frustration.

This is exactly what I'm talking about, he does something really nice and then he follows it up immediately by trying to sleep with me. Is that what this is to him? Do something chivalrous to make me like him and then finally let him fuck me?

It made you angry that he believed it would work.

"What? It'll save water and I just want to make you feel better Petals." Ben wiggles his eyebrows. "You sounded so sad when you said that Annie ditched you-"

"She didn't ditch me!" You snap. "She just had plans with Hughie that's all. And I can't believe you!"

"What the hell did I do?"

"You think that doing something like buying me coffee will get me to sleep with you."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about! You're trying to act all chivalrous and nice just so that you can get me to finally sleep with you. But I'm not going to fall for it Gramps! I am not going to sleep with you just because you do one nice thing for me or try to pretend to care about me." You turn and stomp down the hallway, leaving Ben absolutely speechless in the living room.

When you get in the bathroom you blast your ABBA Gold Album from your Bluetooth speaker to drown out Mike's singing and to drown out your insane internal monologue. And when the music doesn't work, you start to sing the lyrics to the familiar songs letting the melodies soothe you.

You’d liked ABBA since you were a kid. Your mom would listen to it when she was cooking in the large kitchen in your childhood home and when your father got home from work at the end of the day he’d creep up behind her and pull her away from the stove for an impromptu dance.

Your childhood was filled with so much love from two people that were absolutely head over heels. And it made you want that too. It’s why you wouldn’t give in to Ben, because the memories of your parents and the love they shared still warmed your heart years after you’d last seen them.

You dry your hair with a towel, continuing to sing as you dress in your jeans and t-shirt, hoping that you could just escape the apartment by going to Central Park and read on your favorite bench to avoid seeing Ben. You were maybe a little embarrassed that you had yelled at him again. You never intended to.

Maybe I can just creep past him.

You think to yourself as you open the door of the bathroom, but as you step into the hallway you trip over something big on the ground and begin to pitch forward with a started screech. The thing you tripped on catches you so that you fall directly into Ben's lap, your legs on either side of his thighs. You realize that it was Ben you tripped on, who had decided to lounge with his back against one of the walls of the hallway, his legs bent at the knee, directly outside of the small bathroom.

As you fall into his lap, your hands land on his shoulders grabbing tightly in fear and surprise, while his hands catch your hips, pushing up the shirt you had just changed into enough that his hands are resting on a sliver of skin that peeks between your shirt and your favorite pair of jeans.

You weren't expecting it to feel so damn good for his skin to touch yours, to feel the roughness of his hands against the soft skin of your hips. Your hands are still gripping his shoulders tightly, heart thrumming in your veins as you lock eyes with him, adrenaline from the fall still rushing through your veins. He looks as surprised as you do. His face is so close that you can feel his breath on your lips, his body warm and hard beneath yours, and it's making you have flashbacks of the other night when he kissed you in front of Mike, when Ben crushed you against him and kissed you with so much passion that you couldn't equate it to anything else you'd ever felt in your entire life.

You weren't about to admit that aloud, that the kiss you shared with Ben was the best one you'd ever had. And you weren't going to admit that if he kissed that good, you were betting that he would be the best you ever had at other things too. Newton hadn't exactly been a Casanova, and you'd hoped that Newton would have gotten at least a little better at some things the more you two were intimate, he hadn't. You'd also hoped that Newton would have been more concerned about you the closer the two of you were, but each time you were a little disappointed and he was, well, happy.

No. Not thinking about sex right now, not when I'm sitting on top of Ben for fucks sake.

That was a little detail that you were trying very hard to ignore, but it was difficult, not when you could feel everything that made Ben-ahem- Ben, beginning to get interested in your position on top of him.

Ben's eyes are dark, focused on your face, an emotion swimming behind them that makes something snag under your ribs and try to yank you forward, to close the distance between the two of you. His eyes flick from your eyes to your mouth for just a millisecond, moving his face an inch forward, just enough that you can feel the warmth of his lips, but they still do not touch.

"Ben what are you doing on the ground?" You say leaning back to lengthen the distance between your faces, but you can't force your voice into more than a hoarse whisper.

"Dropped my keys." He lies.

"Ben?"

Ben hesitates for a moment. "You've got a pretty voice, wanted to hear better." He admits under his breath, looking as if you caught him with a baseball bat outside your broken kitchen window.

What?

You could feel yourself flushing to the roots of your hair. You'd forgotten that he could hear you in the shower and forgotten that his hearing was so good that he’d be able to pick up what was Mike and what was you. “I’m sorry if it was too loud-“

“No. It was nice.” The end of his mouth twitches in half smile, eyes twinkling impishly. “I’d never tell a woman she was being too loud. I like that doll."

You roll your eyes at him, but his comment doesn’t annoy you this time. You wondered if that was because you were getting used to him and the way he was.

You wanted to kiss him so badly that your lips were aching. He always looked so good and right now was not an exception. Some of his dark hair had fallen forward over his forehead and your fingers itched to push it back, to drag your fingertips over his skin and feel the dips and grooves of his handsome face. The smell of his shampoo was everywhere, spicy and familiar in the best way.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” You whisper. Your hands hands have fallen from his shoulders to rest against the front of his shirt. You don’t really remember when you did that, just that now you can feel the warmth of his chest and the subtle beating of his heart in the palms of your hands. “I think I am kind of upset that Annie cancelled on me today.”

“It’s okay, I'm used to it." Ben's hands are still on you waist, firmly keeping you on top of him. “You always seem to yell at me.”

"Shut up I do not yell at you that much." You laugh, pushing back on his chest playfully.

Ben smiles, but then you watch it drop.

“Look I didn’t get you coffee because I thought it would make you let me fuck you. I got it because you always say you need it to deal with me.” The way he says it breaks something, because he sounds almost sad and you’d never heard him sound that way before. “And I figured that I would see you today and that you’d need it.” He drops his gaze to where your hands are placed on his chest. He’s watching them curiously, like he can’t quite understand it.

Honestly you couldn’t understand what was going on either. Ben was holding you gently, almost reverently on his lap. It was odd. You’d never seen him be this way with anyone.

“Ben-“ You sigh. “I need coffee to deal with everyone, not just you. You’re not special.” You joke to get him to smile again, but he doesn’t instead he continues to look at your hands.

“Hey.” You whisper and this time your hand drifts softly to Ben’s cheek holding his gaze on you. His eyes widen slightly with your bold touch. “Ben I don’t hate you. I just-“

There’s a loud frantic knocking at the front door that startles you off of Ben and on to the ground beside him.

“Were you expecting anyone?” Ben asks as he stands up and holds out his hand to help you.

“Um- no actually.” You reply taking it.

The frantic knocking starts again.

“Do you think it’s Mike checking to see if we broke up again?” Ben snorts.

“I think it might be his mom hoping you answer the door shirtless. Almost gave that poor woman a heart attack.” You start to walk through the living room.

“I remember you having a similar reaction a few days ago Petals.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Though I will say if you ever decided to walk around the apartment shirtless I’d be perfectly okay with that.”

“I did not. And I’m sure you would.” You roll your eyes. “But I doubt you’d be okay with letting me answer the door like that since you seem to be so jealous. Are all the men from your generation so possessive of women they can’t have? Or is it just you?” You tease, remembering how he reacted yesterday afternoon at IKEA in front of Jake.

You doubted that he was jealous. Ben didn’t have anything to be jealous about. He seemed to be plenty happy with the women he found on tinder and you thought it was ridiculous that he needed to have you too.

You glance back over your shoulder to look at Ben seeing if he’s preparing another insult. He’s gone stick straight, his jaw clenched tightly, eyes dark, frown deepening.

Shit I was just kidding but-

You turn back to look at the door but can’t fight the tight feeling that rose in your chest when he looked at you like that.

Get a grip.

You interrupt the next bout of frantic knocking by opening the door.

A man in a rumpled navy suit stands out side the door, a bright blue quilted baby bag covered in elephants hangs from his left shoulder, a little girl holds on to his left hand, while a little boy screams shrilly and hangs from his right arm.

“Mr. Wilson- hi-“ You stutter, surprised. “Are you alright? Here-“ You reach to take his almost one year old son, Josh, from his arms. Josh continues to wail loudly, shaking his head back and forth.

“Can you please watch the kids?!” He says eyes frantically looking around the apartment behind you and focusing on Ben.

Mr. Wilson was another one of your neighbors, but he and his wife lived on the fifth floor. You’d met the Wilson’s by accident when Martha, the five year old holding on to his left hand wearing a bright pink tutu, decided to ride the elevator down to the lobby all by herself and met you while you were moving all your stuff into your apartment. She’d declared you her best friend as soon as she saw the colorful assortment of flowering plants you were lugging through the lobby of your apartment building in a cardboard box. You’d babysit for the Wilson’s sometimes when they needed a few quiet moments alone and on date nights. Not to mention they had a ton of money and paid almost five times per hour the amount you made in an hour working at “Please Don’t Die.”

Josh wails, his face turning bright red, so loud that Ben flinches behind you. You remember what he said about the supe that blew out his eardrums and can't help but feel a little sorry for him. Your own hearing was only a little better than other people's, but not enough to be as bothered as Ben.

“Hey little guy, its okay.” You coo gently bouncing Josh on your hip to make him stop crying. He sniffles and wraps his arms around your neck, gurgling quietly as he catches his breath.

“Y/n!” Martha shouts putting your right leg in a choke hold.

“Hi Marty.” You smile down at her, adjusting your weight so you don’t drop Josh. You look up at her father. “Mr. Wilson, I'm just not sure that now is the right time."

You think about Ben standing behind you and how horrified he looked when the children descended upon you, as if they were ticking time bombs. You weren't sure if you wanted Ben around kids, or if he had ever been around children before. He wasn't the best influence, not to mention you didn't think that he would be able to filter what he said or what he did around the,

“My wife she just-“ He swallows brown eyes wide. “She just went into labor."

"Oh. OH. Well-"

They had been expecting their third child for a while now, something that had resulted from you taking care of Josh and Martha more and more, and Mr. Wilson's promotion at work. You had learned before Mr. Wilson by accident when you reached down to pick up Josh's binky that was on the ground and your ear brushed against Mrs. Wilson's almost completely flat stomach and you heard the heartbeat.

“Please! I’ll pay you triple the hourly rate and her mother will be here tonight to take over for you.” The man looks close to getting on his knees and begging you. "You won't have them for long-"

Have a heart she’s going in to labor. What else is this poor man going to do? Drag the kids there with him? A part of you whispers. But then they'd be stuck here with Ben all day long. Well, maybe he will leave.

“Okay.” You relent with a sigh.

“Thank you!” Mr. Wilson exclaims shoving the bag into your free arm and then disappears from the doorway without saying goodbye to his children, but you were going to cut him some slack. You understood that when a woman went into labor most men didn't understand what to do with that information.

Shit. You grit your teeth to avoid saying it aloud when taking the bag throws you off balance. With one kid still hanging from your leg and the other one hanging from your neck, it was difficult to maneuver with the bag too.

Ben’s hand appears in your line of vision and he takes the bag, practically with one pinky.

“Show off.” You mutter, but turn your attention to the little girl hanging from your leg.

“I want a flower crown!” Martha crows.

“Okay sweetie just give me one second.” You take another step with her holding on to your leg.

“Now!”

“Martha.” Your voice turns stern as you look down at her and she pouts. "Please let me get Josh situated first."

“Fine.” She pouts and lets go of your leg.

The relief you feel is quickly overshadowed by Ben standing there, holding the diaper bag out from his body like it’ll bite him. Honestly you wished you had your phone ready to take a photo of Ben holding the bag, and then use it as blackmail.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ben asks looking down at the two children confused.

“Shh language!” You snap, eyes widening as you look down at Martha and Josh. Josh has begun to pull your hair from the ponytail at the back of your neck.

"What language?"

You give Ben a death stare wincing when Josh yanks the hair tie out. Martha has let go of your leg and is looking up at Ben with the same fascination that you'd seen her look at Prince Charming from Cinderella.

Guess it works on girls of all ages.

You think about telling her that Ben might be charming from a distance, but he isn't anything like a prince. Honestly, you were more worried that Ben was going to act like a total dick and crush this little girl's heart.

"Hi." She waves her hand at him. "I'm Marty."

Ben stares down at her, as if he's deciding whether or not to say his name aloud. "Ben." His eyes flick back to yours. "What are you doing?"

"We have had the money conversation many times, but I guess you must be getting forgetful in your old age, so we can have it again." You smirk. "Some of us weren’t born with a silver spoon in our mouths or have a trust fund. I don’t have money, therefore, I babysit to get some extra cash sometimes. Hence the children.” You wave your free hand commanding the vines to open up the pantry and grab Josh's high chair out to set up for you. "I told you that I work several jobs."

"What do you mean several? You said that you worked for Butcher and plant guy." Ben huffs, still holding the bag.

"You know his name is Jake. And we live in America if you can't remember. You know? America home of the free, home of the brave single woman trying to make ends meet and pay for her crappy apartment by working fifty million jobs?" You begin to buckle Josh in to the high-chair. "But thanks for showing me how to fix the plumbing under the sink. Definitely going to add that to my job application.

"How many jobs do you have?"

"I mean it’s really what I do when I’m not working for Butcher. I works at the plant shop, I babysit, sometimes I’m a dog walker, oh and there’s this senior living facility a few blocks over that I run errands for when the people living there need me."

"You run errands for senior citizens? What kind of fucking person does that?"

"LANGUAGE! And this freaking person does that thank you. It's not all that bad. Plus I thought you were going to act like them when I first met you, but you are more h-a-n-d-s-y." You spell it out because you don't want the kids to say it. "Oh and I'm also a gardener."

"A gardener?"

"Sometimes." You shrug. "But now that you've met the kids, it's time for you to go."

“What?”

"I don't want him to go." Martha stomps her little foot enclosed in a bright pink sparkly flat.

You ignore her and reach for the table part of the high chair, strapping Josh in. He's wearing an adorable pair of overalls and a teddy bear t-shirt underneath. Despite his early hissy fit in his father's arms, Josh is smiling happily at you, his wild curly black hair sticking up in different directions. “I’m not going to let you be around a kid. You're barely on your best behavior around me."

“What do you think I’m gonna do?”

“I don’t know. Smoke a doobie, roll a doobie, make horrible life choices, drink, curse-“ You cross your arms over your chest and turn to face him, raising an eyebrow.

“You really don’t see me in a positive light.” He smirks at you. It's hard for him to pull off when he's still holding the bright blue bag covered in elephants. It was quilted, probably a knock off Vera Bradley, which only made you wish for your phone even more.

“No I do not.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“Fine, just go watch TV in my room. But if you start going through my underwear drawer I swear I will cut off your D-I-C-K.” You spell the word and narrow your eyes, letting them flash bright green to emphasize your point.

Martha is still staring up at Ben, upset at the idea that he's going to go anywhere. "Wait y/n! Please let him stay, he can help me braid Betty's hair!" Betty was Martha's favorite doll, one that you were sure was in the sparkly backpack that hung across her back. Another photo opportunity you did not want to miss.

“I don’t want to go in there.” Ben states.

“Well that’s the first time you’ve ever said that. Usually you’re all for going in my room.” You huff, before turning to look down at Martha. "Alright, you want jasmine like last time? Or do you want some Lavender too?"

"Strawberries!" Martha exclaims.

"Strawberries!" Josh echoes, mashing his meaty fist on the tray not quite comprehending.

"Alright, but you remember. Our little secret right?"

Martha and Josh's parents didn't know you were a supe, they figured that you really liked plants and that Martha's occasional flower crowns came from you manually making them, not from you waving your hand and watching the stems weave together. You weren't sure how the Wilson's would react to finding out that you were a supe. They were more straight laced than you.

Probably also wouldn't like Ben hanging around if they knew who he really was. Actually I'm surprised that Mr. Wilson didn't ask more questions about Ben when he saw him.

Martha nods eagerly.

"Secret?" Ben asks.

"The Wilson's don't know I'm a supe." You murmur so only Ben can hear plucking a strawberry from the plant on your kitchen table. Secretly it was your favorite plant and it was much older than all the others in your apartment, encased in a hand-painted pot.

It was the first plant that you ever grew, sprouted from the chopped strawberries on your high chair tray when you were nine months old. Your parents had potted it inside the house and since then it had never wilted, and it never would. It meant everything to you, weird as that may be, strawberries were like a good luck charm and the plant that sat on your threadbare circular kitchen table was the symbol of your origin story.

"What do they think all the plants are?"

"They just think I like plants." Your eyes are glowing bright green allowing the strawberry in your hands begin to grow a stem and leaves, the stems weaving together to form a circle, sprouting small white flowers that ripen into red fruit, delicately intertwining to create the crown that Martha wants.

She squeals happily when you put it on her head and dances past Ben into the living room on tip-toe.

"You want one too Gramps?" You smirk at Ben.

"Tempting, but no."

"Alright." You look back at Josh, who has begun to chew on his chubby fist. "Are you hungry? I think you're hungry." You turn to look at Ben who is watching Martha do a mock impression of a ballerina with a horrified expression. "Ben can I see the bag?"

His head snaps in your direction. “Why?”

“Because it’s a magical bag with baby food in it.”

He holds it out and you snatch it away.

“Geez. Calm down Petals.” Ben leans against the counter behind you watching you methodically take out the jars. “Now what?”

“Well Sherlock, I’m going to feed the baby.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I know! I know!” Martha screams jumping up with her hand in the air. “Oh please!”

You bite back the urge to laugh. “Yes Marty?” You act as if you're calling on her in class.

“He can help me make friendship bracelets!”

Ben scoffs and rolls his eyes while crossing his arms over his chest. “Like hell I’m gonna-“

*Twenty Minutes Later*

“Please tie another knot for me.”

“No.” Ben grunts

"You're funny." Martha laughs and hands Ben the elastic string so she can start another friendship bracelet.

She was wearing the one that she had spent the last twenty minutes on, a string of bright pink, light pink, hot pink beads, and white pearly stars broken up by the name Marty. Ben had sat there the whole time next to her, pouting while occasionally throwing angry looks at you like it was your fault.

It's not.

You couldn’t understand why he stayed. You figured that he would leave to go on a date or try to escape as soon as Martha mentioned the words "friendship bracelet," but he hadn’t. He sat there at the kitchen table with Martha, whose little legs hung over the front of her chair, her face tight with concentration as she made friendship bracelets.

You’d taken two photos and you were very excited. But you’d been more focused on feeding Josh. He was still eating bits of strawberry and watermelon, but you would give him the occasional bite of teether.

Ben had looked like he was going to throw up when you broke off a piece for yourself.

It wasn't that bad. Kinda like eating a piece of flavored cardboard.

"You really like the watermelon huh?" You ask Josh taking another piece from the plastic container and cutting it up so it's small enough for him to eat.

"Waa waa." Josh mumbles picking up another piece. The red sticky juice was running down his little arms and each time you tried to wipe him off he would scream "No!"

You figured that he had learned that from Martha.

You hold out the circular Tupper-ware of watermelon out to Ben, who takes a piece, still frowning at you the whole time.

He's got to lighten up.

“Benny pick a color for me!” Martha says shuffling her fingers through the organized little boxes of her friendship bracelet kit, the beads rustling loudly against the plastic sides.

"It's Ben."

"Benny!" She whines. "Pick a color."

Ben sighs heavily as if she’d asked him to stab himself. He was probably considering that to get out of this hell. “Green.”

“Light green or dark green?”

“I don’t give a-“

“Ben.” You growl under your breath staring at him.

He sighs again sinking lower in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “Dark green.”

When Martha finishes the bracelet it has light green, dark green, and black beads with brilliant pearly white stars and the name Ben spelled out on the strand. She hands it to him. “This is for you. Now we’re best friends forever.” Her face turns serious. “Guard it with your life.”

Ben holds the bracelet between his thumb and index finger, frowning down at it. For a second you hope that he’s not going to throw it away in front of Martha. You noticed that she was trying to impress him the best she could and even you had to admit that her bracelet making skills were unmatched. You were also a little jealous. She didn’t make one for you.

But then Ben does something you didn’t think you’d ever see him do, but puts it on. “Thanks.” He grunts and Martha’s smile is so wide you’re sure it would blind anyone in a ten mile radius.

You’re surprised, so surprised that you drop the watermelon you had been holding on the ground.

What in the actual fuck is happening? He’s being so nice to her.

“Y/n, pick a color!” Martha shouts handing Ben another piece of elastic to tie a knot in.

“Um- light green.” You say, but you can't look away from Ben.

Am I hallucinating?

You were so shocked at his behavior. Yes he was still being a little bit of a dick, but he hadn't done anything that bad in the time that the children had been here, just occasionally curse.

The bracelet that Martha makes you looks a bit like Ben’s, except you have light green, dark green, purple, and black beads with white pearly stars broken up by your name.

"Thank you Marty." You smile at her and roll it on your wrist.

"Y/n?"

"Yes sweetie?"

"I have to go to the bathroom." She stands from the chair and hops from foot to foot. "I don't want to go by myself, the hallway is scary!"

"Oh okay." As soon as you get up Josh begins to wail, face turning bright red as he does, pounding his little fists against the tray of the high chair, sending pieces of strawberry and watermelon flying everywhere.

Oh shit.

"Hey it's okay Joshie." You unclip him from the high chair and pull him into your arms, bouncing him to make him stop crying.

"Y/nnnnnnnnnn!" Martha whines, continuing to hop from foot to foot. "I really have to go."

"Well I- um." Your eyes dart to where Ben is still sitting at the kitchen table, cringing slightly when Josh gives another particularly loud wail.

Am I really about to do this?

"Ben can you take him for just a second."

"What?" Ben's eyes widen.

"Please? I have to take Marty to the bathroom."

"She can't go by herself? Suck it up or whatever?"

"It's dark Benny!" Martha cries, peering around him down the hallway. "I don't want to go by myself."

"But-" Ben begins to say.

"Please Ben." You plead.

He curses under his breath. "Fine." He stands up and takes Josh from your arms, holding him away from his body in the air with both hands like Josh is a live grenade, which only makes him scream louder.

Martha grabs your hand and begins to drag you down the hallway, while Ben grimaces at the wriggling child in his arms. "Try holding him against your chest." You say to him as Martha continues to pull you towards your small bathroom.

I am definetly getting a night light for this hallway. Then again, she doesn't even like it when the lights are on. She said that the yellow glow looked "creepy." But I don't think I should leave Josh alone with Ben. What if he drops him or kills him or- shit why did I do this.

As soon as Martha is finished and has washed her hands you return to the kitchen prepared for the worst, but then you see Ben. His back is to you, but he's gently bouncing Josh in his arms who giggles happily over Ben's shoulder at you.

"See you just need to man up." You hear Ben say. "The ladies don't like a man who cries kid, take it from me."

You smile to yourself. And if you thought that Ben was gorgeous before, Ben standing with a baby making a baby smile, makes something primal at the back of your mind begin to stir and unfortunately makes every plant in your general vicinity burst into bloom. The smell of gardenia, hibiscus, honeysuckle, and lavender hitting you in a strong wave as they do. You weren't sure what instinct it was, all you knew was that the image of Ben and the baby would be very difficult to wipe from your mind.

"Did you miss me Benny?" Martha shouts coming up behind him, her strawberry crown still perched over her dark braids.

"Um." Ben turns around to look at where you're standing at the edge of the kitchen. He looks a little sheepish, like he didn't want you to catch him with a kid.

That's understandable. Hughie told me how he reacted to seeing a diaper commercial. The guy just doesn't seem to be the most gentle or really loving. And yet look at how he is with Josh.

"Of course he did Marty." You smile rubbing her back. "Right?"

"Sure." Ben sighs, but then he lifts his gaze back up to you. "You shouldn't call her that." Ben grunts.

"Why not?"

"You keep calling her a man's name and everyone is gonna think she's a boy."

You kick Ben hard in the shin.

"Ow. What the fu-" Ben snaps, eyes blazing.

"Marty, why don’t you pick out a movie you want to watch, anything you want." You smile sweetly at her, ignoring Ben's angry glare.

"Anything I want?" She exclaims, eyes bright.

"Anything you want."

She squeals happily and runs to the couch, disrupting Bean who had been watching with contempt from the cushions that line the back. He didn't like the kids as much as Ben did. Bean leaps off the couch and vanishes down the hallway before Martha can catch him.

"I call her that because she asked me to Ben. Don’t say things like that to a five-year old. In fact don't stuff like that at all. It's 2024 not 1920."

"What does that mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean." You frown at him.

"Fine." Ben huffs and rolls his eyes.

"Why are you still here? I thought that you were going to go on a date or whatever it is you do when you're not being forced to work for Butcher?" You say taking Josh from Ben, who fights you as you rub a wipe against his sticky cheeks.

"I didn't want you to be outnumbered Petals." Ben smirks.

"Uh-huh. Sure. Admit it, you really wanted a friendship bracelet."

Ben leans closer to whisper in your ear. "As soon as she leaves, this is going in the trash."

But for some reason you don’t believe him, but at the same time you didn't care, because you had photo evidence on your phone of Soldier Boy making friendship bracelets.

The opening song of Frozen begins to play from the tv behind you and you smile mischievously at Ben.

Now he's in for it.

"You're gonna wish you left Gramps." You snort.

"What do you mean-" Ben starts to say.

And then Martha begins to sing.

After a stunning and masterful performance of the Frozen movie done by Martha that included singing, dancing, and screaming the dialogue back at the tv, followed by Frozen 2, both Josh and Martha have fallen asleep just as the Aristocats began to play, leaving you and Ben to sit in the blessed silence of your apartment with the movie playing quietly in the background.

You were all sitting on the couch, Josh was sleeping on top of you, his little head buried in your left shoulder, while Martha curled up beside you, covered in one of your crochet blankets. Ben was sitting on the other side of Martha, leaning back and avoiding any contact with her feet that occasionally twitched while she slept, scrolling on his phone.

As much as Ben had hated the performance, you think that he might have actually liked Frozen. He'd noted that Elsa was hot, which Martha didn't quite understand and stated "No silly she's cold."

But then Ben followed up the observation by saying "You know, I knew this supe that looked exactly like her, who did this thing with her tong-" and you'd clamped your hand over his mouth and hissed "the kids are too young for that. Frankly I am too." Ben had only smirked at you and for the first time since you'd seen him do that, you smiled.

You didn't think that Ben had been paying attention, given that he had been scrolling on his phone through the entire movie, but he was. Because when Hans betrayed Anna Ben muttered "what a dick" under his breath.

Butcher had called during Frozen 2 and Ben had taken it in the hallway, filling you in quietly when he got back. Tomorrow Butcher wanted the two of you to infiltrate the party and see if the supe showed up to steal any of the cars.

It sounded like a solid plan, but it also meant that you were going to be on a mission alone with Ben, wearing God knows what. The last time Frenchie had stolen a dress for you wear on a mission, you'd practically had a heart attack when you first put it on and then made Annie go instead. You hoped that this time Frenchie got you something a little more, you. But you doubted it.

Plus the whole idea is to not be you genius.

“You’re really good with them.” Ben murmurs from his seat on the other side of the couch interrupting your chain of thought.

“You sound surprised.” You whisper back gently rubbing Josh's back with your hand. “And here I thought you were going to make a misogynistic comment about me having to be good with kids because I’m a woman.”

“I thought about it.” He shrugs shooting you an easy grin that makes you roll your eyes.

“Wouldn’t have expected anything less Gramps.”

You'd be lying if you said you weren't enjoying Ben try to act normal around the children. You liked watching him be all uncomfortable and awkward, especially because he prided himself on being a "big strong man." It was the same look he got in his eyes whenever Mike's mother cornered him.

“So have you been around kids before?” He asks.

“No. I never had any younger siblings, just my older brother. Were you ever around kids?”

You barely knew anything about Ben or his life before becoming Soldier Boy, just all the propaganda that Vought fabricated about his early life. He had called you guarded but he definitely seemed to keep everything closer to his chest. Sometimes you found yourself wishing that he would tell you more. You wanted to know more about him, but another part of you told you that it was a bad idea. You were getting too close to Ben, developing feelings for him, and you knew that it wouldn’t end well.

“Not people I knew. Vought used to send me on tours around America, talking to assemblies at schools.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Do you-“ Ben pauses considering. “Like kids?”

“I mean I like that I get paid to watch them but-“ You look down at the children quietly sleeping between the two of you. “I like these two. I think it kinda depends on the kid.”

He nods and turns his head back towards the tv. Thomas O'Malley has started his song, sauntering along to the tune.

Is it wrong that I think Ben has Thomas O'Malley vibes? Or Kovu from Lion King 2 vibes?

You thought about texting Annie that exact question, but you didn't want to tell her how you spent your day babysitting with Ben. You knew that it would only bring on another onslaught of photoshopped baby pictures and potential baby names.

“Do you want kids?”

“Huh?” You glance over at Ben who is watching you curiously. He was doing that thing again where he acted completely different than how he acted around the team, had been doing it all day long.

“Um-“ You contemplate. “I’m not sure. I’m kinda young or well in my head I am. I think I’d want to wait a little bit.”

“But you do?” He presses.

Why does he want to know that so badly?

“I kinda see myself as a mom.”

Ben’s eyes are studying you. “I think you’d be a good mom.”

The compliment makes you inhale in surprise. Ben had been acting weird all day long, being nice to Martha, wearing the bracelet she made him, sitting with her to watch a movie and listening to her recount the lore behind it. He was being uncharacteristically patient and kind. For another moment you see the possibility of Ben being more than just an angry, horny, jerk, and you try hard not to give in.

“Do you want kids?” You whisper back.

Ben’s expression darkens and he turns back towards the tv, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn’t say anything for a good two minutes, the silence awkwardly growing between the two of you. “I did.”

“With Countess right?”

He looks at you surprised.

“Hughie told me.” You bite the inside of your cheek. “I’m sorry Ben.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. You’re not the bi-“ He stops and looks down at the kids who are still sleeping silently. “You’re not her, Petals. You don’t have to be.”

“I know that, but still. What she did was shitty.” You whisper the curse word. “You didn’t deserve that. Any of it.”

It was the first time you’d said that to Ben. The first time the two of you would have a conversation about his life before you met him, the life that he seemed to want to forget. You couldn't blame him for that. In fact, the two of you had barely talked before these past few days other than the occasional tease or Ben’s attempt to get you into bed with him. And it was actually kind of nice, learning more about him.

Josh gurgles quietly and you adjust him in your arms, gently rocking him for a moment. Martha stirs but then leans further against your right arm cuddling up against it.

Ben watches you for a minute with the same expression he has when he seems to be unable to understand you and then the mask slips for just a moment, enough for you to see something genuine in his eyes. "Thank you." He murmurs.

"You’re welcome." You reply with a small smile as you turn back to watch the movie, aware of Ben's gaze on you. "Then again I should be thanking you. I couldn't have made it through today without that coffee."

Ben chuckles and leans back against the couch cushions. "You're welcome Petals."

Mr. Wilson's mother in-law shows up to take the kids just as the movie finishes. Ben and you stand there for a moment in the aftermath taking a breath and when you smile at him, Ben actually smiles back.

But before you can ask Ben if he wants to order a pizza or something, he states that he has a date and not to wait up for him as he shrugs into his leather jacket.

And when he goes you try not to notice how quiet the apartment is and how empty it seems without him in it.

A/N: Alright the angst will begin to come NEXT chapter, probably, I promise... I just couldn't get this silly little idea out of my head and I thought why not?

As always thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist or if I missed you on the taglist please let me know :)

Taglist:

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@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307 @libby99hb

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

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#soldier boy x you #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy/ben #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #jensen ackles #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy fic

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zepskies · 4 months ago

Text

Lost on You - Part 10

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: And we’re back! In today’s episode, we have a very special guest. 😉

Also, just so you guys know, my podcast interview with the Idling in the Impala podcast is now live! For all the timestamps of key moments, fic recs, and SPN writer shoutouts, see this post (you'll find the link to the video there too).

Song Inspo: “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak

Word Count: 6.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, angst, drug use, PTSD, violence, and another big reveal…

🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

🎙️ Series Masterlist

Part 10: I Need a Hero

Revenge could wait for one more day.

It all can wait, Ben thought. Despite how vehement he was yesterday, today, he was reminded of how good it felt to sleep in a warm bed with a beautiful woman.

He laid there behind you, on his side. He’d woken up to the sound of music somewhere downstairs, maybe in the dining room.

What time is it? It was hard to remember to keep track of that now, even with the digital clock on the nightstand. It was only midnight, but to his body, it felt like morning.

You were dead asleep. Occasionally you let out soft hums, and other semi-arousing sounds. His lips tugged upward.

Still moans in her sleep.

He drew down the comforter and sheets slowly from your back. He was greeted by smooth skin, except where some marks had been made permanent. His fingers traced carefully over a rough, scarred patch of skin above your hip, as if you had been tased there repeatedly.

His jaw clenched. He could still remember the sounds he used to hear—your screams through the walls of the compound. He remembered when you eventually stopped begging for it all to stop.

“You’re saying this is my fucking fault?!” he said. “Yes! It is your fault. Because you’re too much of a mean, callous, arrogant, entitled, selfish, fucking asshole to see that everybody hates you!” you spat.

For so long after that day, he hated you. He told himself that he didn’t give a shit about whatever was happening to you, because you clearly didn’t give a shit about him.

But the long months wore on to longer years, alone in the dark. Too often, your words would rattle through his head, reach through his chest with ragged claws. No matter how much he fought it, all he had time to do when he was alone, was think.

He vacillated between stubborn, angry indignation, and rethinking every interaction he had with you, with Countess, the rest of the team, and beyond. Slowly, he allowed himself to retrace his steps. If only in his mind, he began to regret certain things…at least where it came to you.

Ignoring you was both harder and easier, since he couldn’t see you.

That all changed a few days ago.

Eisenstein returned to his cell, but this time he wasn’t alone. Two guards held you bound and gagged. You were just as shocked to see him as he was you.

It felt like he was suspended in time.

He saw the signs of aging in your face, but it didn’t matter. Even now, you were beautiful.

The spell of it broke when they threw you down onto the metal table usually reserved for him. He saw now that they had you in a straitjacket to keep your hands covered. The anger built inside him, almost incandescent in his veins.

“What the fuck is this?”

The doctor held a glass syringe in his gloved hand. He drew closer to you with slow, measured steps.

A realization soon dawned on Ben, no matter how much he didn’t want to admit it. He saw your terror, the way you wordlessly pleaded with him, asking for help with your eyes.

Part of him still hated you, but he couldn’t take it. He wouldn’t allow this sick bastard to hurt you again. Not right the fuck in front of him.

You were still his.

His hand traveled down your bare shoulder, over the gentle slope of your side, and down the curve of your hip under the covers. You shifted and hummed, edging toward wakefulness. Ben settled in from behind, protectively embracing his body around yours in a perfect fit. He began kissing along your neck, slowly.

“Hmmm I’m sleeping,” you said, keeping your eyes closed. He smirked. His lips became more insistent, along with his hand spanning your thigh.

“Wake up, then,” he said. He teased the shell of your ear with his tongue, dragged your earlobe between his teeth. You shivered.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you retorted, smiling.

Ben huffed. “Yeah, keep being a fucking brat. That’ll get me to stop.”

His beard rasped against your skin as his lips found a path down the column of your throat. Acquiescing to open your eyes, you sighed, tilting your head back to give him more room. Meanwhile, his cock pressed insistently against your ass.

You smirked and shifted your hips, grinding back against him. “Maybe I like working you up.”

“Oh yeah?” He moved your thigh over his to spread your legs for him. There the warm, blunt tip of his cock pressed at your entrance, nudging you open with shallow thrusts. You moaned in response, reaching back to slip a hand in his hair.

You were a wanton little thing, he thought, even as he reached around to bury his fingers in your pussy. Already finding wetness between your folds, he gathered some of it and rolled your clit smoothly between his fingers. You gasped his name, your hips bearing down against him.

He took the opportunity to sheathe himself all the way inside you, until his hips were snug against your ass. You made a sound of pleasure that had his balls clenching on reflex. Your voice was a curse, even without your powers.

For once, he fucked into you slowly, with long, unhurried strokes that still managed to rock the bed. Ben was surprised the frame and springs hadn’t given up yet.

“You’re fucking mine, you hear me?” he said, close to your ear. He punctuated his words with deeper thrusts. “Say you understand.”

“Yes,” you agreed on a gasp.

“Yes, what?” He laid more tantalizing kisses along your neck and jawline. “Tell me.”

“I’m yours,” you said, in a coarse whisper. Ben claimed your lips in a kiss, before he kept moving inside you in languid strokes.

You were a moaning mess, your eyes squeezed shut. You grabbed at your breasts and kneaded them yourself, rolling and pinching your nipples. He strummed more insistently on your clit, until he felt your inner walls finally start to throb around him.

Your orgasm hit you in a slow, long wave as you pressed your face into your pillow. And you clenched so impossibly tight on his cock, it triggered his release as well. His arm curled around your middle and pressed you tight against him as he uttered a sharp grunt. He finished hot inside you, panting heavily into your neck afterward.

“Well, good morning,” you quipped, despite trying to catch your breath as well.

Ben’s hazy reverie broke into a chuckle. He dropped a lingering kiss onto your shoulder.

“It’s the middle of the night,” he corrected.

You shrugged. “Whatever.”

When he pulled out of you, you shivered a little. He rolled onto his back, and regardless of the mess in the sheets, you turned over to rest your elbow on his pillow, leaning over him.

“I should probably tell you something,” you said.

He eyed you in suspicion. “What now?”

You smiled and laid a hand on his chest, dragging your nails through the fuzz there.

“My family’s from Brooklyn, not a small town in Indiana,” you confessed. "Made it up to make me seem more...down to earth. Doe-eyed and likeable."

Ben’s brows shot up. He took a moment to process that information, then he shook his head.

“Fucking figures.” His arm lowered to curl around your lower back, caging you against him.

“I grew up in a brownstone that we had to share with two other families,” you said.

“So you were broke.”

“Yep. When I was born, my family spent all their savings to contract with Vought, to give me Compound V,” you explained. “Their plan was something like, if I became a famous superhero one day, I’d bring us out of our shitty life.”

Ben sighed, shaking his head. “So they pimped you out to Vought.”

“Essentially,” you said. You paused. He could see it was difficult for you, but you talked more about your life—the expectations from your parents, the training, the grueling schedules and the robbing of your childhood.

“When my mom died, I…I realized just how much they took from me,” you said, gazing up at him. “Isn’t that horrible?”

Again, Ben shook his head. His hand had been caressing up and down your back, but it stopped now. Part of him was still reluctant, but he told you about the biggest lie of his life. That he hadn’t grown up poor or struggling. That his father practically owned half of Pennsylvania, and Ben had been a spoiled rich kid. He’d also gotten kicked out of boarding school after starting a fight.

“My father said I wasn’t worthy of his name,” he said, with a wry turn of his lips. “So I went out, talked to some of his golf buddies in the War department, and got myself into the Vought program. I became Soldier Boy.”

You listened with rapt attention. Not interrupting him, just giving him the time he needed to find his words.

“When I came home after the war, my mother was just as proud as she’d ever been,” he recounted. But he didn’t smile. “My father took a good look at me, maybe for the first time in my life. And you know what he said?”

You gave him a questioning look, silently prodding.

“He said I took a short cut. ‘A real man wouldn’t have cheated,’” he said.

When he eventually met your gaze, you at least didn’t look pitying. Just understanding.

“I guess we both have daddy issues, huh?” you said.

Ben shook his head. Then he eyed you. “You don’t look that surprised by all this.”

You smiled, a little sheepish. You stroked your thumb across his chin.

“I can sense when a man is lying to me, remember?” you said pointedly. “I clocked you a long time ago, pal. Mostly any time you told some fake war story... You didn't fight in the war, did you?”

He frowned in offence, even though you both knew he couldn’t deny it.

"I was there," he said.

You gave him a knowing look. "Ben."

"I fucking would've, all right, but by the time I got there it was pretty much..." He waved a dismissive hand. His brows were crunched along with his worsening frown. You felt his embarrassment, and as a result, his agitation. You were glad to finally get the truth in his own words, but you didn't want to work him up in that way either.

You tried softening him with a kiss to his cheek. You rubbed a soothing hand over his arm.

“So what do you want to do when we get our lives back?” you asked, purposefully changing the subject. “After the whole payback thing.”

Ben sat up with you against the headboard. His upset slowly faded away with your ministrations, your gentle touch, and his expression fell into contemplation.

“I always thought I had time, but uh…I thought I’d eventually settle down. Have a couple of rugrats of my own. Raise a family,” he said. “Thought I could do it better than my old man.”

You tilted your head at him with a certain measure of surprise. Out of everything he might’ve said, that one didn’t occur to you. Although, with his upbringing, you supposed it made sense. You smiled.

“You might have a few of those out there somewhere,” you said.

He chuckled. “I've always thought so.”

He looked at you in a way he hadn’t before, a bit gentler, with something else you couldn’t name. Your face warmed as something fluttered in your lower belly.

“So tell me then. What do you want?” he asked.

Once you worked through that bit of nerves, you thought about his question. It took you longer than you thought it would to come up with an answer, but when you did, it was the most honest thing you could think of.

“I want to be happy.”

He paused, not expecting that answer. Then he nodded, with a short hum.

You sighed. “Okay, if you really want to go after Vought, I think I have an idea of where we should start.”

I can’t believe it. This thing still fits me pretty well, you thought. You twisted in the mirror to examine yourself in your old black and violet supe suit, though you didn't bother with the mask.

Meanwhile, Ben was already with your generous host, sat with widespread legs on the couch while he smoked a large blunt. His smoke coiled out lazily.

“You gotta believe me, I didn’t know what they were planning,” said Arthur Cohen. AKA: The Legend. He had been forced into a chair, though Ben hadn’t bothered tying him up. The man knew better than to make a false move. He was a decade older, and lucky for him, even wiser.

His penthouse apartment in New York looked more or less the same. Hit records and old successful movie posters adorned the walls, like a true has-been.

“Yeah, you said that fifty fucking times already,” Ben snarked. “What you haven’t said, is why.”

“To be honest, I never asked,” Arthur said. His expression soured. “Stillwell and Stan Edgar shivved me out of that decision, those uppity fucks. Then they got me fired on some technicality.”

“Allegations of embezzlement, or so I heard,” you said, reentering the room.

Arthur raised a finger. “Not true. That money was well earned backpay.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You know I know you’re lying, right?” You approached the men and crossed your arms. “What’s the lay of the land now?”

“Well, Stillwell’s the new me. Stan’s the new CEO. They disbanded Payback after you disappeared. The others are either working new gigs or are in early retirement. But I heard Vought’s working up to creating a new team.”

You nodded and shared a glance with Ben. He looked a little too chilled out right now. Apparently, Arthur had the good stuff.

“Before we jump into the frying pan with this, I want to go see my family,” you said. “Would you…want to go with me?”

Ben blew out more smoke, gesturing at Arthur. “I’ll keep this one company until he finds our old team. Make sure he doesn’t fuck off to Rio.”

You felt the sting of disappointment, but you sighed and agreed.

“Just…wait for me to get back before you go anywhere,” you said. You saw Ben prickle a little at being “told” what to do. You lowered down to his lips.

“Please?” you said, plying him with a kiss, and a gentle squeeze of his hand. “I’ll be back soon.”

He tightened his hand on yours. His gaze drew over you, briefly with more clarity through his high.

“Fine,” he said. “Be careful.”

You nodded with a smile, giving him one more kiss goodbye.

Your father was the longer drive north than your brother’s house in Queens, so you headed up to find the former first after borrowing a car from Arthur. According to him, your father had moved upstate to Albany after your “death.”

Now, you understood why.

He lived in a two-story house on a whole acre of land, complete with three cars, a pool, and oh yeah, his new girlfriend. She looked good hanging off his arm in Atlantic City, as you saw from a picture on the wall—after you broke into the house, that is. To be fair, they’d left the sliding glass door open in the backyard.

Your dad was dressed like he just got home from the golf course, walking over from the kitchen to the living room. He dropped his glass of wine in shock when he saw you standing there, admiring the only framed picture of you, your mother, and Chris on one of the display shelves. Glass shattered across the hardwood floor.

“Hey, Dad,” you said. You turned to him, not bothering to hide your disdain.

He gaped for a few seconds as he tried and failed to make his mouth work. He pointed at you with a shaking hand, your name finally falling from his lips.

“It’s a beautiful place,” you said. You gestured widely at your surroundings. “It’s nice to see that you finally got what you wanted.”

He tried to go to you, to embrace you, but you held out a hand. Your lips trembled as you fought the onslaught of your emotions. If he touched you, you might not have been able to control your actions.

“Did you give any of the settlement money to Chris and his family? Or did my death just make you rich,” you asked.

Your father’s eyes closed. He released a heavy sigh before he was able to meet your gaze again.

“He wouldn’t take any of it,” he admitted.

Your tears stung in your eyes as you smiled a little. “Sounds like him.”

“Where have you been?” he asked. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”

Again, he tried to get closer to you, and again, you held him off.

“The only thing I need from you is to keep doing what you’re doing,” you said. “Keep living your life like you no longer have a daughter.”

With that, you stalked out of the house and shot out the door, back to your car, no matter how much he called out after you. You got into the driver’s seat and beat the wheel once, twice, venting your frustrations. But you forced yourself to take in deep breaths to calm yourself. You wiped the tears from your eyes.

He wasn’t worth it.

You wondered if you should go see Chris though. Would it be safe for him and his family? Was Vought watching them as a contingency, if you ever escaped?

You weren’t sure. You rucked through your purse lying in the passenger seat for the weird “cell” phone Arthur had lent you. You wanted to check in with Ben first, before you went anywhere else.

You started to dial, but a gloved hand shot out and injected a needle into your neck. You startled at the sharpness and the feeling of a chemicals rushing through your body. Your eyes darted to the rearview mirror.

All you saw was a blurry, black mask.

Meanwhile, Ben was fucking plastered.

He had been ever since you left yesterday morning. In his unrest, he’d moved on to a handful of whatever opiates Arthur kept in his medicine cabinet.

Christ I’m fucking bored.

He glanced down at the phone in his lap. The one Arthur gave him, along with a list of numbers that had been taped to the fridge. The first number on the list was the cell phone you were carrying. Ben read the rest of them.

Pizza place. Chinese. Swedish massage—hmm, there’s an idea. Handy man. BEST escort service…

Ben rose a brow. An inebriated smile curved his lips.

“What makes it the best escort service?” he asked, and loudly. Enough that Arthur came over from where he’d been making calls in his office, trying to find the rest of his former teammates’ whereabouts.

Arthur raised a brow at him. “You sure that’s a good idea right now?”

Ben shot him a terse warning look. The other man raised his hands.

“Eh, I’m three times divorced. What do I know?” he said, but he sighed and gave Ben a long look. “It just seems to me that you and Sirena got a good thing goin’, that’s all.”

The thought of you managed to cut through the haze of drugs clouding Ben’s mind. He frowned.

“That’s how Missus #1 caught me, with one of my ex-assistants in the jacuzzi,” Arthur said, with a mild grimace on his face. “She got that house in the divorce. Well, that and the kids.”

Ben looked over at him blankly.

Heaving a sigh, Arthur went back to his office.

Ben glanced down at the list of numbers in his hand, and the cell phone in the other. What the fuck was taking you so long then?

He dialed the first number on the list—your number. It rang several times, but you never answered. He called you again, waited a few minutes, then called you a third time. You weren’t answering.

His frown worsened, along with a suspicious prickling up his spine. Fuck...

He'd felt it the moment he let go of your hand, but he'd been too out of his mind to actually listen to his instincts; the same ones that warned him not to let you out of his sight. And more importantly, not to let you go.

He got up from the couch and stormed into Arthur’s office, shoving the door open. Arthur jumped in his seat.

“What? What’s the matter?”

“She’s not picking up the fucking phone,” Ben said. He paused. “Something’s wrong.”

Arthur didn’t ask him the predictable question: how do you know? He just took in the look on the supe’s face and knew it wouldn’t be wise arguing. He tried calling your father's home, but all the man would say was, "She left. She's gone."

Arthur hung up with the man, and for a long moment, he sat pensively while Ben angrily paced the small office, like a tiger confined in its enclosure.

“It’s possible that Vought knows you guys made it back,” Arthur said. At the dark look on Ben’s face, the other man rubbed his chin with a sigh. “Okay. I’ll try to track her down for ya. In the meantime, I’ve got Countess’s address. Maybe she'll even have an idea of where to look for Sirena.”

He slid a piece of paper toward Ben across his desk. He grabbed it, pointing a threatening finger at Arthur.

“Find her.”

You woke with a groan. You knew a drugging when you felt one, and this was it. Someone had given you a powerful sedative.

You were alone in a white padded cell, lying on a cot. It was all too familiar.

Except for the tall figure in black standing in the middle of the room, watching you. You gasped with a jolt, pressing your back against the wall after you sat up. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes.

“Irving?”

Black Noir stepped closer until he was sitting beside you on the cot. Tentatively, he raised a hand up to touch your cheek with gentle, gloved fingers.

Your shock gave way to anger. You slapped his hand away.

“What are you doing?!” you said sharply.

Noir backed off at once, as if you’d struck him a real blow. He got up, went over and grabbed a dry erase board that had been lying against the far wall, along with a marker off the floor. He wrote something down on it, then he showed you.

You shouldn’t have come back to NY.

You frowned, both at what he “said,” and in confusion. Why wouldn’t he just talk to you?

“What did you expect?” you asked incredulously. “For me and Ben just to disappear forever? To let you keep ruining our lives?”

Noir paused at that. He tilted his head with a long look at you. With your abilities, you were able to sense that he was disheartened, and even angry. He erased the board with his arm and wrote something else.

Do you love him?

You blinked at the question.

“Who?” you asked, even though you knew.

Soldier Boy

Emotion rose high in your throat, but you worked past it with a swallow, and a deep breath.

“That’s none of your business,” you said.

Noir just stared at you, his head tilting forward. The longer he stood there, watching you, waiting for an answer, the longer you prickled with unease.

He erased the board and wrote the same question again. He held it out for you to see, shaking it once in emphasis.

Do you love him?

You hesitated, but you didn’t want to lie anymore, even to yourself.

“Yes, I do,” you said. “I know what he’s done, believe me, but he isn’t a monster.”

Noir’s head twitched. You felt his anger intensify. He dropped the board onto the floor, startling you, but all he did next was slowly raise his hands to take off his helmet. He showed you what was left of his mottled, disfigured face—the burnt skin and the divot in his skull that had never fully healed.

Your mouth parted in shock as tears sprung in your eyes. You tried to avert them, but Noir stepped forward and grabbed your jaw, turning your face up to his and forcing you to look. Your lips trembled, but you met his gaze unflinchingly.

When he seemed to be satisfied, he released you and stepped back. He placed his helmet back on.

“I understand why you hate him,” you said at last. “But you made your choice when you let them take me too. You…you changed everything for me.”

You were satisfied to feel a lance of Noir’s guilt. You had scars too, and most of them weren’t physical.

“I’m not going to apologize for my choices now,” you said, with a firm glare. “So unless you’re going to kill me, you can fuck off, before I scramble what’s left of your head.”

Your eyes glowed with your power. You opened your mouth to begin your siren’s song, but Noir turned on his heel and exited the door, leaving you alone in the cell.

A fucking chimp sanctuary. Really? Ben thought as he broke into the boundary of the reserve. About a quarter mile into the tall grass, he found a large, if rundown country style house in the middle of the woods.

“Yes, Big Daddy. I’m almost ready for you. Just let me heat these up…”

Ben raised a brow, but he gritted his teeth and kicked through the front door. There she was, Crimson Countess in all her glory, holding a set of anal beads.

She gasped at the sight of him, but she ignored the “client” on speaker on her landline phone, and dropped the beads so she could aim a fiery blast at the intruder.

Ben jumped out of the way and tossed his shield. It hit her square in the chest and sent her flying back into the wall, destroying a bookshelf and the dining table. He walked over to it with slow, heavy steps.

She raised her head with a groan, but then, her eyes watered with disbelief…and fear, when she looked up at him.

“Ben?” she said. “My God…it’s really you, isn’t it? You... you look the same.”

“You don't,” he remarked. He lowered down to grab her by the collar of her suit and raise her out of the rubble.

“How much did the Russians pay you, Donna?” he asked calmly.

She struggled to escape, her nails scraping at his gloved hand. He tightened his hold.

“They didn’t,” she admitted. Tears leaked from her eyes under her mask.

“They didn’t pay you anything?” he said through clenched teeth. “Then why?”

You know why, came sneaking voice in his mind. He tried to pay it no heed, but Donna sneered at him.

“Because,” she spat. “I fucking hated you. We all did.”

Ben’s lips pulled at a humorless smirk. His chest prickled with heat. “I should’ve known you were a bunch of sniveling, backstabbing, fucking cowards.”

“Kill me then,” she taunted. “Is that gonna make you feel better? Going to make you feel less empty inside?”

Ben’s chest began to get that nuclear glow, but he managed to fight it down, back into embers.

“Not yet,” he said. He drew her in closer. She held onto his wrist, her feet scrambling over the debris on the floor.

“I need to find someone,” he said. “And you’re going to help me.”

Ben and Donna sat across from each other on her living room couch, with the landline sat between them. The phone was on speaker as it rang. The longer it took, the more annoyed he became.

“This better work,” he said. She gave him a flat look.

Finally, a woman answered the phone.

“Good afternoon. Stan Edgar’s office. How may I assist you?”

“Hi Gloria, it’s me, Donna,” she said. “I need to speak with Stan as soon as possible, please.”

“Ooh, I’m afraid he’s in a meeting.”

“Trust me, he’s going to want to take this call.”

“Hmm, I’m afraid his next availability isn’t until next week. And next month if you want an in-person meeting.”

“Just tell him to call me back asap!” She said, hanging up the phone in a huff. Ben gave her an unimpressed look.

“That was your big fucking plan?” he said.

She huffed. “You think breaking into Vought is going to be easy? Let alone finding that weasel. He’s got the best security money can buy, and by the way, finding where they’re keeping your little girlfriend isn’t going to be any easier. They could’ve stashed her literally anywhere by now.”

You think I don’t fucking know that? Ben got up from the couch with an angry breath. He turned away from her and rubbed at his beard in contemplation. He shouldn’t have let you go anywhere alone.

I should’ve been there. The thought gripped him, deep in his gut. Guilt was an unfamiliar, uncomfortable feeling.

“We’re going to need help,” Donna said.

His bad mood took a turn for the worst. He glanced back at her.

“What, the rest of the fucking Scooby gang?” he snarked.

“Or you can try going in alone, guns blazing,” she shrugged. Her sharpened gaze met his. “How fast do you think they’ll kill her, just to spite you?”

Ben’s jaw clenched. Donna leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms.

“Or worse. They’ll put you back in a box and ship you back to the Russians,” she said. Her snide smile had him clenching his teeth. “Either way, you’ll never see her again.”

With everything in his being, Ben wanted to fry this bitch to Kingdom Come.

“Get up,” he ordered. “Pack a bag. We’re leaving.”

Donna’s expression fell. “What?"

"You heard me!" he barked, grabbing her arm to pull Donna to her feet. "Get the fuck up."

She struggled against his grip. "Where’re we going?”

“To find those fucking Twins.”

They took her car, a tiny sedan. Evidently, the end of Payback hadn’t been good for Donna’s career. Arthur had told him that, irony of ironies, she now sang at a Soldier Boy tribute act at Voughtland to pay her bills. And as he’d seen earlier, she needed to pad her income in other ways.

She was driving them up to Vermont. It was going to take days, and Ben was already sick of her.

It was a small blessing when they stopped at a gas station in the nighttime. She gave him her credit card to buy some snacks for the road while she filled up the tank. (He took the keys with him as insurance that she wouldn't bolt with the car.)

He returned with a far bigger bag than she expected. She forgot what a human garbage disposal he could be. He tossed the card back at her.

“Your card’s maxed out, by the way,” he said.

She glared at him, but she endeavored to let it go with a sigh, raising a hand to her temple. How the fuck had this become her life?

To minimize being overheard, she stepped closer to him while the gas pump kept going on her car.

“Gunpowder is the easiest one to find next. Mindstorm’s probably hiding in a hole in the middle of the woods some-goddamn-where,” she said, keeping her voice down. She gave her unwanted companion a sly look. “Though I’m thinking you want Mindstorm to stay wherever he retired.”

It brought up an unsavory memory.

After the team turned on him, Mindstorm had been the one to lock his gaze on Ben. For a moment, his feet had been rooted to the ground while Mindstorm tried to shove him deep into his mind. It had given someone the opening to slip a mask of Novichok over his face. He suspected it had been Countess.

Now, Ben turned to her with a glare at her audacity.

“You know, for a massive cunt, you’ve got some brass balls,” he said dangerously. “How the fuck didn’t I see what a vindictive little snake you were from the beginning?”

Donna scoffed in derision.

“I’m vindictive? Says the cheating, lying, bastard,” she snapped.

“Oh, shut your hole. You knew what I was doing, and you didn’t give a shit,” he said with a glare. He leveled a finger at her. “You used me to get exactly what you fucking wanted. Fame, money, and all the perks that come with it.”

Her lips pursed, like she didn’t want to admit it. But if they were airing out dirty laundry, then she wasn’t pulling any more punches.

“Well, I wasn’t the only one. Was I?” she said. “Anyone who ever smiled at you, fawned over you, or sucked your dick was trying to get something from you. Or, they were scared of you. Because you’re a bully. A fucking monster. And sooner or later, Sirena won’t be able to stomach you anymore.”

The thin leash on his temper finally snapped. He reacted, reaching out to grab her by the throat. He was truly thinking about breaking her neck.

Donna choked for air and gripped his wrist. “Without me, you’ll have no one. Good…fucking…luck finding her.”

Ben was furious, but he battled it down, expelling a breath of frustration.

He released her. She coughed and gasped and stumbled a few feet away from him, glaring at him all the while through her fear.

When she was eventually able to stand again, she and Ben shared a look of mutual loathing, but also, of understanding.

It was an uneasy truce. For now.

You were quickly unraveling alone in the dark.

You felt the phantom cold of your old cell. No matter how you rubbed your arms through the leather of your supe suit, you couldn’t get warm. You released a shaky breath and swiped at your tears.

You missed Ben. He had to know by now that you were in trouble, but you didn’t know if he’d know how to find you. Or worse, if they found him first.

You steeled yourself and tried to calm your panic. You counted to thirty. Your eyes flit to every small detail of your cell that you could name: the small crack in the gray linoleum tile, the line of ants slowly creeping along the corner, the brittle wool blanket you were sitting on, laid over your cot.

When your breathing was steady, you tried to think. You didn’t know where you were, of course, but you could try to sense how big the building was.

You did something you rarely did. You cast your awareness outward as far as you could reach.

There were very few male energies, and you only picked up on a few scattered thoughts.

Until you found one. It felt…strong, but young. A kid?

Jesus Christ, what’re they doing in this place? you thought.

What…who’s there?

You heard the voice in your mind, small and afraid and lonely. Before you could answer him, the door of your cell opened to a few familiar faces.

There was an older man in a lab coat that you recognized, but you couldn’t place his name until you read his monogram. Vogelbaum. Followed by Stan Edgar and Black Noir, who came to stand behind you. You knew that if you made any wrong moves, Noir would kill you this time.

Quickly you read their energies as you observed them.

Vogelbaum gave off mild interest in you, but it felt clinical. Stan felt resigned and calculating as he took you in.

“For what it’s worth, I do wish it hadn’t come to this, Sirena,” Stan said. “We didn’t intend for you to get caught up our deal with Russia.”

He may have been telling the truth, but that didn’t mean you cared.

“You’re in the most secure lab we have,” he said, gesturing to your wall-to-wall cell without windows. “No one knows you’re here, and no one will find you.”

You smiled dryly. “So what do you want from me?”

“I want to know how you and Soldier Boy escaped the facility in Russia,” he said, gathering his hands behind his back.

What he really meant was, How did you escape? So we can make the next cell even more effective.

You leaned forward and spat at his shoes.

Black Noir grabbed you by the back of your neck and yanked you back. Your jaw clenched in anger, but you didn’t struggle. Even if you opened your mouth to sing, Noir would snap your neck before your powers had time to affect him.

Stan remained unaffected by your outburst, though he glanced down at his shoes.

“These are handmade Italian leather,” he remarked.

“Even if you find Ben, you’ll never be able to kill him,” you said tersely.

“We don’t need to kill him. Nor will we need to find him,” Stan said. “He’s already looking for you.”

Your eyes widened. Your heart swelled with both hope and dread, though you tried to hide it.

“We have a plan to neutralize him. Several, in fact,” he added, and spread his hands wide. “Until then…welcome home.”

Smug bastard. You glared back at him.

He left, along with Vogelbaum. Black Noir glanced back at you once, then he was gone.

The lights in your cell turned off, leaving you in darkness. You heaved a breath and couldn’t help the tears that found hot paths down your cheeks. You curled your knees up on the cot and held them to your chest.

You squeezed your eyes shut, as if you could pretend the room wasn’t pitch black. You focused your breathing, in and out, until your heartbeat began to slow down from its panic.

The kid, you remembered.

You licked your dry lips and tried casting your awareness out again. When you found the familiar energy from before, you reached out to him.

Hey, are you there? you prodded.

Who the hell are you?

It’s okay. Don’t be scared, you said, and you gave him your name. Are you locked up here?

Y-Yeah.

I’m sorry to hear that. I am too.

How can you be talking to me…in my head?

Well, it’s complicated, you admitted. It’s a new power I’m trying out, thanks to my time as a human test subject.

Something told you this kid knew the feeling.

What’s your name? you asked.

Um…John. I’m John.

AN: 🤭 Oh, yeah, we're going there.

How did you like getting Ben's perspective on things? And his "forced" team up with Countess to find the rest of the cast of Payback. 😬 What could possibly go wrong?

Next Time:

Ben hated to admit it (so he wouldn’t), but she had a point. It took him a minute to wrangle in his ire, taking deep breaths to try and calm the power inside him. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

This time, it actually did.

His hand fell back to his side, letting the younger man breathe freely.

“Let’s go.” Ben turned on his heel and headed out.

“Where, uh…where’re we going?” Charlie asked, rubbing his sore neck.

“Looks like we’re getting the team back together,” Ben said grimly.

He tilted his head.

“Well. What’s left of it.”

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 11

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elliesbelle · 9 months ago

Text

nobody compares to you

chapter 14

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, dealer!ellie, some setting is in a hospital, mentions of catheters and needles, descriptions and talk of anaphylaxis, mentions of financial difficulties, mentions of alcohol, mentions of toxic parents, mentions of death and suicide, minors do not interact

word count: 7.9k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

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palestine will be free

The first thing you feel is something plastic poking the inside of your nose. It smelled of chilly, medicinal air conditioning.

The next thing you feel is a massive, unpleasant weight on your chest. Then at the crown of your head. Then some weird pressure squeezing your calves every few seconds. Then an entirely full bladder.

“I need to fucking pee.” You mutter, voice dry and raspy.

“I think you can just go, dude.” A familiar voice replies.

You fight against the crustiness of your eyes but immediately regret it. All you can see through the slits of your eyelids is a harsh, white light.

“Am I… Am I fucking blind?” You whine.

“I’m pretty sure that your eyeballs are still inside your head. So hopefully not.” You hear the voice chuckle.

You fight against the unforgiving glare from above, forcing your eyes open. It takes a few moments to gain control of your body, but you’re eventually able to crane your neck towards where the voice had previously echoed from.

“J-Jesse?” You croak.

“Yeah. I’m here, bud.” Your raven-haired friend smiles.

You spot him to your left, sitting in, what appears to be, an uncomfortable armchair. He wore a blue disposable mask over his nose and mouth, his hair looking unkempt and unshowered, and you notice how his clothes look wrinkled and slept in.

“What happened? Are you alright? What’s going on?” You groggily inquire.

“You’re the one all strapped to a hospital bed, but you’re asking me if I’m okay?”

Jesse takes your hand and squeezes it appreciatively. He flashes you a soft, warm smile.

“How are you feeling?” He asks.

“I-I’m not sure…” You admit. “What… what the hell happened?”

“Well,” Jesse starts slowly. “You went on a date with Anderson to Orchards yesterday. At the end of it, you were being a total dummy and made out with her after she ate a whole plate of shrimp.”

“N-no, no,” You interrupt, scrunching your face up as you try to recall the previous day’s events. “She ate this whole soup thing for dinner. Some weird French dish with some weird-sounding name.”

“Bouillabaisse,” Jesse clarifies. “It’s a fish soup. It doesn’t always have shellfish in it, but hers apparently did.”

You groan.

“Oh, I am such a dumbass.”

“Please explain to me exactly how you were being a dumbass in this situation.”

“You literally just said that I was a dummy!”

“That was Jesse of the past. I’m a much more mature man now in my old age.”

You attempt to smack his arm, but he’s saved by the many coils of IVs attached to you, pulling your hand back.

As he playfully rebukes you for attempted physical abuse, another person enters the room. A kind-looking nurse walks in with a clipboard in hand. Wearing dark blue scrubs, a low ponytail, and a surgical mask, she greets you with a friendly wave. She approaches your bedside opposite Jesse, and her glasses-covered eyes indicate a friendly smile.

“Hi there,” She nods. “My name is Yoojin. I’m your nurse today. I’m so sorry for not being here when you woke up. I had to step out for a few seconds, but your brother here assured me that you were in capable hands.”

You turn to Jesse and mouth in amusement, “Brother?”

He suppresses a laugh.

“Later.” He whispers through his mask.

You turn to Yoojin with a small grin.

“No worries. I only just woke up now.” You assure.

She gives you, what you assume, is another smile under her mask.

“So how are you feeling?”

Jesse remained by your side the entire time, only leaving briefly when he needed to use the bathroom or take a call. He sympathized with your gripes about being bedridden, making lighthearted jokes about your catheter, messing around with the IPC devices off your legs over and over until a nurse came in and kindly asked him to stop.

The TV in your room wasn’t working, so he kept you entertained, cracking his usual dad jokes and telling some old stories of Jackson you hadn’t heard yet. You pretended not to notice that the anecdotes he’d recall always excluded an essential person in his childhood, and you tried your best not to remark on it.

After a couple of hours, Dina finally came around to visit. She walks in as you’re berating Jesse for stealing a fruit cup you knew you weren’t going to eat. The sight of her immediately warms your heart.

“Dina!” You exclaim. “Oh, I missed you.”

Dina sets her bag down next to Jesse, lowers her face mask for a moment to give him a quick peck on the cheek, and pulls up a chair next to him. She takes your hand and beams at you graciously. You notice that her eyes are slightly glassy.

“Oh, babe,” She sighs. “I missed you too. Sorry that I’m just getting here. Had to deal with a few things before I came over.”

“Don’t apologize, D. I’m just glad to see you.”

She squeezes your hand softly.

“I’m so glad you’re awake,” She gulps. “You worried us so much.”

“Sorry about that,” You grin sheepishly. “I was being a bit of a dummy.”

Dina blinks for a moment before giving Jesse a smack on the back of his head at this.

“Oy vey. You asshole.” She chides knowingly.

“Hey! No need to abuse me! I’m delicate.”

He caresses the spot where she hit him as you laugh heartily.

The couple recounts the events of last night for you, explaining in detail as much as they know. You listen without interruption until they reach the topic of your EpiPen.

“But how’d you guys get to my EpiPen so quickly? Did you pass by my apartment?” You ask them curiously. “I don’t mind if you guys did! It’s just not that close to the restaurant. Wouldn’t have made much sense to book it back to my apartment, honestly.”

Dina and Jesse share a look you don’t understand. Your eyebrows furrow, confused by their hesitation. Eventually, Dina responds.

“Uh, well…” She begins slowly. “Jesse actually happened to have a spare EpiPen at his place. Thank god, right?”

“You did?” You turn your head towards Jesse. “I didn’t even know you had one, Jesse.”

“Y-yeah,” Dina continues cautiously as you notice Jesse’s expression shift to a poker face. “He used to have an, uh, egg allergy growing up.”

“What?” You ask incredulously.

“Yup,” Jesse chimes in. “I grew out of it when I was in high school. But my mom still insists that I have an EpiPen on me. Just in case.”

You continue to look completely discombobulated. You don’t fully buy their story, especially since neither were looking you directly in the face. But you’ve always trusted Dina as a sister and Jesse like a brother, so you half-heartedly accept the tale they’ve decided to present you with.

“Oh, okay,” You say, slightly unconvinced. “Well, thank god for that, I guess. Is it okay that you used it on me, though? What if you suddenly need it again?”

“No worries,” Jesse assures you. “I’ll call my mom and ask her to send me a new one.”

His poker face improves, so you concede for now.

The couple continue to recount the previous day’s events until they eventually catch up to the present.

“Only family is technically allowed to visit you in the ICU,” Dina confesses at one point. “Jesse had to say he’s your brother to get past the nurses' station. The nurse manning the desk at the time could definitely tell we were lying, but she was really nice and allowed it anyway.”

“Oh, gotcha,” You say. “Well, you’re basically my brother, anyway.”

“You should feel so lucky to share the same genes as me.” He boasts, stealthily avoiding yet another smack from Dina.

“What about you, D?” You ask, turning towards her. “What did you say you were? My sister?”

“Nah, I didn’t wanna be siblings with Jesse, even just as pretend.” She grimaces.

“Okay, yeah, didn’t think of that,” You realize, scrunching up your nose in total disgust at the thought. “Gross.”

“Wouldn’t be able to get that image out of my head.” Dina shudders. “Anyway, I told them that I’m your life partner.”

“My what?” You giggle.

“Hey, it counts!” Dina defends. “Well, kind of. The nurse had to list me as your ‘spouse’ instead, which feels like a hate crime.”

“Oh, shut up.” You laugh as Jesse chuckles.

“What? You don’t wanna be married to me?” Dina asks in mocking shock and offense.

“I am absolutely honoured to be married to you,” You assure her. “I’m just worried about poor Jesse. How in the world are we supposed to break it to him that we’ve actually been married for over ten years?”

“Oh, please, Jesse’s known from the start that he’s always just been a side piece.”

“Hey!” Jesse interjects in indignance. “I’m right here.”

“Be quiet, side piece. The wife and I are speaking.” Dina waves him off.

You burst out into laughter at Jesse’s playfully hurt expression.

The three of you discuss what the doctors have told you, and you eventually bring up the conditions required of you to be discharged.

“I know that the doctors and nurses saved my life and whatever. And of course, I’m very grateful. And I truly do not mean any disrespect,” You say. “But I want to get the fuck out of here, uhh, right fucking now.”

Dina smiles and Jesse chuckles.

“I know, babe.” Dina sympathizes.

“You’ll be out sooner than you know, bud,” Jesse adds. “Don’t stress over it. We’ll get you out as soon as possible.”

“Oh!” Dina suddenly pipes up and reaches into her bag. “I can’t believe I forgot. I brought your phone. I was able to grab your purse for you before the paramedics took you away. I turned it off and charged it at home, so it should have some juice.”

She places your phone in your hand, and you flash her a grateful smile.

“D, you need to be canonized for your good deeds, I swear. With a statue and everything.”

“Oh, I know,” Dina smirks. “Brought your wallet too. Not sure if you wanna keep it here or bring it back to your apartment, though.”

“I’ll ask them if I can keep it here with me.”

A thought suddenly hits you.

“I’ll… I’ll have to figure out how to pay for all this when I get out.” You sigh.

“Oh, babe,” Dina says reassuringly. “Don’t worry about any of that right now. Just focus on resting, okay?”

“Your insurance will hopefully take care of a huge chunk of it,” Jesse contemplates. “It’s through your dad, right?”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” You say as your hands begin to fidget anxiously. “Something as big as this, they’ll probably contact my parents. I… I can’t let them know I’m in here. I know it’ll start shit and… I just know it won’t be good.”

The couple give you identical, concerned looks.

“D-do they know? Th-that I’m in here?” You ask timidly.

“Not that we know,” Jesse replies. “Neither of them is on your emergency contact list. And you know that Dina and I would never speak to either of them. Unless it’s to tell them to shove a stick up their respective asses.”

You and Dina giggle.

“Speaking of which,” Dina adds. “You can ask your uncle. I called him yesterday while you were still out. I hope that’s alright.”

“Oh, that was so thoughtful of you,” You say gratefully. “What did he say? I hope he didn’t worry too much.”

“Honey, you almost died. Of course, he’s worried. He loves you.” She checks the time on her phone. “He should be arriving sometime later today, actually.”

“Shit,” You groan. “He didn’t have to do that. He gets so busy with work during this time of the year. This must have been so inconvenient—”

Jesse suddenly takes his thumb and middle finger and flicks you on the forehead.

“What the fuck!” You exclaim in indignance, rubbing the spot you were hit, as Dina gives him another hard smack on the head. Jesse ignores you both.

“You are more important than any goddamn job that exists in the world, in the whole motherfucking galaxy. Your uncle loves you, just as we do. So no more complaining about it, dumbass.”

You give him a pouty look, but his words fill your heart.

Your best friends stay the rest of the time until your uncle arrives around midday. Relief and affection overwhelm you when he enters the room. You squeeze him with the tightest embrace you can possibly give for someone essentially strapped to their hospital bed. You ignore the loud beeping resulting from the tangling of your many IV wires.

After your friends help you unravel all the cords, they gather their things and get up from their chairs.

“We’ll let you guys talk.” Jesse says, offering his seat to your uncle.

“Oh, you don’t have to leave.” Your uncle graciously assures them.

“It’s alright; have some family time,” Jesse insists kindly. “I’m pretty sure she can only have two visitors at a time, anyway.”

The couple make their way towards the sliding glass door.

“I cannot express how grateful I am for you two,” Your uncle says before they exit. “Thank you for saving her life. And thank you for keeping me in the loop.”

“Please, no need to thank us, really.” Dina nods kindly. “She’s family. We would do absolutely anything for her.”

“That means you’re both family to me too.” Your uncle concludes. “Thank you.”

You hold back tears of vast emotion from three of the most important people in your life exchanging such caring sentiments. You’ve never felt luckier.

“We’ll be in the waiting room,” Jesse promises. “Let us know if either of you needs anything, okay?”

Jesse and Dina take their leave, and your uncle subsequently takes a seat next to you.

“Oh, Uncle,” You start before he can speak. “I’m so, so sorry. You shouldn’t have flown all this way. I can’t believe I was so stupid to have—”

“Hey, hey,” Your uncle interjects. “None of that. You have no reason to be sorry. You needed me, so I’m here. I’m not mad, and this is not your fault.”

Tears form in the corners of your eyes.

“I just feel like I’ve inconvenienced so many people. If I could have just paid attention…” You lament. “And now I’ve totally made you drop everything to be here. I know you’ve still got work—”

“You are a thousand times more important than my job, sweetheart.” He shakes his head and squeezes your hand, echoing Jesse’s previous words.

“But…”

“You are my family. Nothing is more important than that.”

You smile at his adamancy.

“And especially since losing Rafael,” He continues. “I think of you as my own.”

“I know, Uncle.”

You squeeze his hand back in affection.

“D-did…” You suddenly say. “Did you tell—”

“No, your mother and father don’t know a thing about this.” He answers insightfully.

“Thank god.”

“Did you want me to tell them?”

You grimace. Your uncle chuckles.

“I figured as much.” He surmises.

“I just don’t know how to keep this from them forever, though,” You continue. “They’ll see it through the insurance company. I…”

“Don’t worry about that. I can talk to the nurses later today before I leave, see if I can pay it in full myself without needing to use your father’s insurance.”

“Uncle, please. Please don’t do that. This is going to be so costly, and you’ve still got your mortgage and Raf’s leftover student debt—”

“I just want you to focus on getting better, alright? I don’t want anything else on your plate right now.”

“Uncle, promise me. Please. Please promise me. Do not spend a single cent on this. I want to do this on my own. I’ll figure it out. Please promise me.”

He gives you nothing more than a smile in response.

Your friends and uncle take turns rotating as your company for the rest of the day. They’d only leave your side when the doctors and nurses needed to conduct extensive tests to ensure that you were still stable. You were never on your own for more than a few seconds, your loved ones determined that you not feel alone.

You’d turned your phone on almost immediately after Dina’d handed it to you. But as a small, gracious gesture of appreciation, you had set it aside to give your visitors your undivided attention for the rest of the day.

It wasn’t until the evening, when your friends and uncle waved you goodbye as visiting hours ended, that you allowed yourself to finally glance at your notifications.

Anxiously picking your phone up, the first thought you have is to call Abby. Jesse and Dina had mentioned she was with them in the waiting room the night before. But, like your friends, she was informed that she wasn’t permitted to see you in the ICU as she wasn’t family. Dina and Jesse sent her home with the promise to let her know as soon as possible when you finally woke up and that you were alright.

You notice that she’d messaged you earlier in the day. But much too embarrassed to face her just yet, you decide instead to first call your old freshman roommate.

Tara picks up after only two rings, almost as if she’d been waiting by the phone for your call. She greets you with a happy shriek of your full name, an amused giggle escaping your lips as a response to her sudden enthusiasm.

“Thank fucking god!!! I’ve been waiting all fucking day to hear the sound of your voice!”

“Umm, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” You reply, smirking. “This is actually Satan, here to leave a message. I’m calling to let you know that I will be collecting your mortal soul sometime during the next 24 hours.”

“Oh nooooo,” Tara plays along. “What on earth have I done to warrant eternal damnation, Miss Satan?”

“Not sure if you know, but homosexuality is actually a cardinal sin. And unfortunately, you seem to be a notorious, flaming homosexual. I know, I know; it’s quite disappointing. But alas, I do not make the rules.”

“But Miss Satan, are you not a homosexual too?”

“Well, that’s exactly how I know it’s a sin.”

The two of you crackle at each other’s banter, and you make plans in your head to spend more time with Tara and the rest of the girls after you’re released from the hospital.

You and Tara chat for a little while about the most mundane things, like her classes the day before and her plans for the weekend. She apologizes for not having more to say and for “being so boring,” but you’re genuinely happy to just hear her prattle off about anything.

At some point, she hands her phone over to Astrid, who greets you with a similarly delighted shriek that her girlfriend had received you with prior. She gushes over you with love and concern, insisting that she and all the Wilson girls come to visit you as soon as you’re out and adjusted.

“Tara just about broke down when I told her about it.” She reveals. “She was about to leave for her shift at Ruston’s when Dina called, and I’m pretty sure the whole dorm could hear her sobbing.”

“What?! I did not!” You hear Tara shout from a short distance.

“You had so much snot running down from your nose that I just about hosed your face down before you left!” Astrid yells back.

“Stop telling her that! She doesn’t need to hear all that!!”

You giggle at the couple’s repartee.

“Anyway,” Astrid continues. “Kris, Sid, and I tried to come down for a visit, but they apparently only let family in. Jesse and Dina seemed to have monopolized the fake roles of being your family already.”

“Yeah, sorry about that, Addy.”

“Oh, don’t be sorry,” She brushes off. “I’m just glad that you haven’t been alone there. Those two really care about you, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Dina started to make a whole fuss when they wouldn’t let us past,” Astrid continues. “Threatened to sue the nurses, all the doctors, the entire hospital. The receptionist nurse didn’t even get a chance to kick her out ‘cause Jesse himself forced her to go leave and take a walk to calm down. I don’t think she came back until a couple of hours later.”

“Yeah, that sounds like our Dina.” You snort.

The two of you discuss what you’d like to do whenever you finally get released, Astrid swearing to get you out of your apartment nearly every day after your discharge.

“I don’t think I have all the stamina for all that, babe.” You chuckle.

“Then you better get yourself to the gym with Jesse, and build that stamina the fuck up! I want your sexy self at parties and clubs, living your best 20s life with us!”

You chuckle warily at this, simultaneously pushing away the reminder of who Jesse’s daily workout partner is.

After saying your goodbyes to Tara and Astrid, you make brief calls to the rest of the girls of the Wilson Crew. They all answer your calls with an assortment of jubilant greetings, each girl expressing their elation and gratefulness that you’re finally awake and safe.

You send individual texts of love to Dina, Jesse, and your uncle, thanking them extensively for coming to your aid and expressing your excitement to see them again very soon.

Having done your rounds of gratitude, you finally acknowledge that you can no longer ignore the unread texts of the blonde-braided woman you’d had your near-fatal dinner with. You open up your message thread with Abby to see that she’d sent you only three texts earlier in the day.

You stare at her text.

Oh. Huh.

No part of you blamed Abby for the incident; in fact, you’d been feeling a tremendous amount of remorse for putting her through such a traumatizing and jarring ordeal. It had been plaguing you so much since you woke up that you were far too embarrassed to ask Jesse and Dina more about her.

But something about her texts bothers you. There was very little warmth and familiarity in her messages. Her words didn’t seem that of the woman who had been walking you to your classes every day, who showed you off to her friends at the Bow and the Arrow, who treated you to a lavish restaurant on a fancy date. Who kissed you with so much passion on the sidewalk of that same restaurant the evening before.

Is… Is she angry with me?

You continue to stare at her strange messages for several more minutes, unable to process the situation you’re somehow in now. You can’t think of an appropriate response that would lead to something honest, so you decide to put your response off.

A-at least until after they release me… At least until I get home…

The doctors only began to discuss the possibility of your discharge early Sunday morning. Though it hadn’t even been a full two days since your admittance, it took everything in you not to practically beg them to let you go. You’d been insisting to anyone who’d listen that you were completely fine, that you’d walk right out yourself if you weren’t strapped to your bed with a million wires.

It wasn’t until midday, as you were mercilessly beating Jesse’s Shy Guy as Pink Gold Peach in Mario Kart, that Yoojin walked into your room with good news. You don’t notice her at first, too busy taunting Jesse for landing in 7th place while you scored 1st.

“You only won because I got Lakitu’d in the second lap! Fuckin’ Isabelle was sending red shells at me nonstop…” Jesse gripes.

“Sucks. Sounds like a personal problem, man.” You shrug.

“Alright, I want a rematch, but on the Egg course this time.”

“You’re such a sore fucking loser!”

“There’s a shortcut on Yoshi’s circuit close to where the finish line is, by the way,” Yoojin interjects, eyes smiling. “If you use a mushroom and drift to the hidden waterfall on the right, it’ll get you pretty far ahead.”

You and Jesse look up, a bit sheepish at her witnessing your juvenile behaviour. The nurse looks completely unbothered by it, however, and she approaches your bed as you place your controller down.

“Aww, come on, Yoojin,” You whine. “Don’t tell him that! I’m on a winning streak!”

“Shh,” Jesse shushes you, attempting to cover your face with one hand. “Don’t listen to her, Yoojin. She’s delirious from all the drugs you’ve been pumping her with. I must know all your secrets, ‘cause I swear, this one is cheating.”

“Maybe later,” Yoojin laughs as you flick Jesse’s forehead. “Because you might want to hear what your doctor just told me.”

Your ears perk up at this.

“I can go home?”

“Your most recent labs just came back, and everything looks good.” Yoojin nods. “And your vitals have been stable for the last 24 hours. So unless you plan on wolfing down ten pounds of shrimp sometime before leaving, we can get started on getting you released sometime later today.”

Your face breaks out in a huge smile, and you turn to grasp Jesse’s arm.

“Dude! I can go home!” You exclaim.

“Yes, I heard,” Jesse says. You can feel his smirk through his face mask. “Finally.”

You turn back to Yoojin.

“I can go right now?” You ask.

“It’ll take a couple of hours to make sure everything’s set for your discharge,” Yoojin says, chuckling at your eagerness. “But just hang tight, and you’ll be out of here in no time.”

“Why don’t you guys settle things here while I go tell your uncle?” Jesse offers.

Your uncle had stepped out to get some lunch at the hospital’s food court not too long ago. He and Jesse had arrived on the dot when visiting hours began earlier in the day. Dina had accompanied them but left shortly after to take care of other obligations, promising to be right back the second she was done.

“Oh, that’d be great,” You say. “Thanks, Jess.”

“No worries, bud. I’ll be right back.”

He gives you a pat on the head before leaving you alone with the nurse.

“So before you leave, we’ll go over a few things to make sure you don’t suddenly relapse during the next few days,” Yoojin begins. “And we’ll make sure you go home with a couple of new, unexpired EpiPens, just in case.”

You nod as she goes on to explain the plans for your discharge. You listen attentively, determined not to end up back in the hospital like this again. As Yoojin wraps up, you work yourself up to ask her a question that’s been at the tip of your tongue since the beginning of the conversation.

“Hey, umm, before you go,” You mutter nervously. “I wanted to ask about how much all of this will cost me. I-I know it’ll be pricey and all, especially with two brand new EpiPens, so I just want to be prepared.”

“That’s not really something I can help you with,” Yoojin replies apologetically. “That’s the jurisdiction of the hospital’s billing department. But I’m sure you can get it all settled with your insurance after you’ve been released. Depending on what you have, they should cover most of it.”

You give her a tentative smile as you wring your blanket between your fingers.

“A-alright then.” You sigh defeatedly.

It takes about two hours for you to finally be released from all your restraints and another hour until you’re finally walking out of the hospital and into the sunny parking lot. Yoojin allowed you a quick embrace before you left, insisting that you promise to be much more careful from here on out.

You lean against your uncle and Jesse for support as you exit the hospital’s automatic sliding doors, legs still a little shaky after being bedridden for so long. Dina pulls up next to you in her car and gets out to open the passenger door.

“M’lady.” She says with a bow, gesturing to the seat.

“Shut up, D.” You laugh, rolling your eyes.

“You sure you’ve got everything?” Your uncle inquires.

“I think so,” You reply. “Didn’t really bring anything with me.”

“Alright, well, I’ll head to my hotel room first so I can take care of a few things. I’ll meet the three of you at your apartment sometime later today. Sound good?”

You, Jesse, and Dina all nod in unison. Before he walks away, you wrap your arms around him in a tight hug.

“Thank you so much, Uncle,” You murmur. “It means so much to me that you came.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart. Anything at all.”

He gives you a quick squeeze before releasing you, promising he won’t take very long before walking away towards his rental car.

“So,” Dina chimes. “Wanna grab some gross, greasy non-hospital food on the way home?”

When you finally cross the threshold of your apartment, you’d already wolfed down the majority of your fries along with half a chocolate milkshake. You collapse onto your couch with a relieved sigh, your best friends falling next to you on either side. You lean your head onto Dina’s shoulder as you take her hand between both of yours.

“I think I’m about to go into the world’s longest food coma.” You decree.

“I’m right alongside you, dude.” Jesse agrees, having devoured one and a half burgers himself on the way.

“No comas, please, or we’re gonna have to turn right back around and readmit you into that hospital.” Dina says.

“Never again, please,” You beg. “If I have to hear the nonstop beeping of a heart monitor for one more second, I’m going into straight-up fight-or-flight mode.”

Your friends chuckle.

“Alright,” Jesse eventually says as he sits up straighter. “Now that you’ve been freed, what do you want to do first?”

You hum as you ponder his question.

“Get so blackout drunk that I totally forget this entire experience ever even happened in the first place?” You offer.

“Right, well, perhaps we can do something that isn’t completely stupid and detrimental to your health. Especially after you were just in the hospital after almost dying.” Dina retorts.

You boo her as Jesse chuckles.

“Well,” You continue. “I guess I should tell the girls I’m finally out. I promised them I would. Or did you guys say anything to them already?”

“Not yet,” Dina says. “They’ll probably want to hear it from you.”

You groan.

“You’re right. Ugh. I don’t think I can handle the sheer amount of screaming and excitement that’ll come with it, though. Kris sounded like she was going to smother me with so much love that I’d suffocate from it.”

“You can always put it off, at least until tomorrow.” Jesse counters.

“I guess so. You think they’ll be mad?”

“Babe,” Dina says, squeezing your hands and rolling her eyes. “You almost died. I think they’ll survive a day.”

“Alright, alright,” You giggle. “I probably should focus on getting work done before class tomorrow, anyway.”

“Ma’am, I know you are not thinking of going to your classes right after you were just in the hospital all weekend.” Jesse scolds sternly.

“I’m fine!”

“Dear lord.” Jesse sighs, exasperated.

“Like I said,” Dina repeats. “You almost died. School is not a priority right now. You need to be resting, not writing essays and doing homework.”

“I don’t want to fall behind!”

“Didn’t your doctor give you a school note before we left earlier? She said you can give it to your professors to excuse you from your classes this week.”

“Yeah, but it’s not mandatory or anything. I’m fully recovered now, so it just seems totally unnecessary.”

“Like hell it is!” Dina bellows before releasing your hands to stand up from the couch. You fall flat on your face onto her spot when her shoulder disappears from under your head, and you muffle irritated curses into the couch cushion. You look up to see she’s disappeared momentarily into your bedroom.

“D… What are you doing?”

Dina reemerges after a few seconds, your laptop in her hands.

“Babe. What’d you get that for?” You ask suspiciously.

“I’m emailing all of your professors myself to tell them that you will not be attending any of your classes this week. Especially since it seems that you want to be such a stubborn dumbass about it…” Dina says matter-of-factly, shoving your head away from her spot on the couch to sit beside you once more.

“Never should have given you my password.” You grumble as Dina opens up your laptop and easily bypasses your lockscreen.

“Alright, who are all your professors again?” She asks, opening up your browser to access your email.

“I’m not telling you!” You reply stubbornly, crossing your arms.

“Hmm… I know she’s got Olinick’s double class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, Mulligan at least on Mondays—” Jesse lists, counting your professors on one hand.

“No, no, no, I don’t!” You turn towards him, shoving your hands in his face.

“—I think Joslin from the English department too, but I can’t remember if that was last year or this year.”

“Jesse!”

By the time your uncle arrives at your apartment, you’d conceded to your best friends and allowed them to draft an excuse email to all of your professors. Dina opens the door for him after he knocks while you make final edits to your letters, and he settles into the ratty, secondhand armchair right next to the couch.

Your uncle chuckles at the scene before him: you with a focused look on your face typing rapidly on your laptop, Jesse leaning back into the couch while gently patting the top of your head as he continued to make suggestions to your email, and DIna taking her seat right back next to you before kicking her feet onto your lap as you lift and place your laptop on top of her legs. It had been a while since your uncle had seen you so relaxed around other people, the last time being right before your freshman year of college. His fondness for your best friends quickly grows by the second.

You look up from your work for a moment to smile warmly at your uncle, and he returns it with one of his own.

“Hi, Uncle! Sorry, I’m just finishing up this email to my professors.”

“No need to apologize, sweetheart. You telling them you won’t be attending any classes this week?”

“Yup,” Jesse answers for you. “Took a lot of bullying on our part to convince her not to overwork herself with school right now.”

“This dummy wanted to go back to classes right away as if nothing happened.” Dina rolls her eyes as she extracts a foot from underneath your laptop to kick you softly, earning her a stern “Hey, hey, hey!” from you.

“Well, thank goodness she has you two to set her straight.” Your uncle chuckles.

“Oh, she’s absolutely lost without us.” Jesse says, continuing to pat the top of your head.

Your uncle smiles. He can tell that Jesse’s joking around, but he knows that the couple have both been selflessly keeping you alive for the past few years.

“So how are you feeling?” Your uncle continues with concern etched on his face.

“Not so bad,” You admit. “Just so glad to be among civilians once again.”

You feel Jesse rub your upper back kindly.

“I’m sure,” Your uncle smiles kindly. “How about we talk about what you’re going to do now that you’re out?”

The four of you discuss what the next, post-hospital visit steps would be. They remind you of the check-up appointment you have later in the week, caution you once more about what foods you need to constantly be looking out for, and double-check that you have your new EpiPens handy and within constant reach.

“I still have my current EpiPen in the bathroom,” You say. “It hasn’t lapsed yet. So maybe I can give you each of the ones they sent me home with, if that isn’t too much of an inconvenience to either of you guys?”

You turn towards Dina then Jesse.

“You sure?” Jesse asks.

“Yeah, I mean, I obviously don’t want something like this to happen again. But if, by some hideous trick of fate, I end up in a repeat situation, it might be smart to just have one in multiple places. Just to cover my bases, I guess.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Dina nods. “As long as you have easy access to one at all times.”

“Yeah, that was my thinking too,” You agree. “Plus, I don’t want to have to use one of yours again, Jess.”

“Mm, I guess.” Jesse hums.

Your eyes meet his and you once again recognize his poker face.

“That sounds like a good plan,” Your uncle agrees. “Let’s try not to rely on just luck next time around.”

You give him an apologetic smile.

The sun had been set for at least an hour when Dina and Jesse finally took their leave. Both offer to stay the night, in case you suddenly need either of them, but you assure them that you’ll survive one night alone just fine. You embrace each of them tightly, putting every ounce of gratitude you have into your hugs.

You settle back onto the couch after you see them both out the door, and you turn towards your uncle still sitting in the armchair.

“I know I’ve said this probably a hundred times the past day or so,” You begin. “But thank you for coming, Uncle.”

“I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t come,” He replies. “Neither would Raf if he was still around.”

You both share a sad smile.

“I miss him, Uncle…” You whisper suddenly.

“I know. I do too.”

You sigh before continuing.

“I wish he was still here. I feel… I feel so incomplete without him around. Like this has all been an awful nightmare that I have yet to wake up from.”

“I know just what you mean,” Your uncle laments. “But our lives still go on, sweetheart. I think it’d make him sad to see us grieving him for the rest of our lives.”

“But… it just feels so wrong. It feels so wrong to stop grieving for him, to move on from him.”

“It’s not exactly moving on from him,” Your uncle ponders. “It’s more like… We make a place for him in our hearts. It’s sort of like he becomes a part of us. He’ll always be in everything we do.”

Your eyes well up as a childhood memory floods your thoughts.

When you were eleven years old, you had your first anaphylactic experience. You and Rafael were hanging out at his house, your uncle at work all day. You were making a mess in the kitchen, developing concoctions with half the contents of the pantry. As you were dumping a bag of marshmallows into a blender full of graham crackers and banana slices, Rafael fished an old bag of chips out of one of the cabinets.

The writing on the bag was all in a language you couldn’t understand, but the superheroes on the front seemed to be enjoying the crunchy snack. Raf was tearing the bag open before your greasy fingers started grabbing at its contents.

It didn’t even take two minutes until Rafael realized something was wrong. You were annoyed and taken aback when he slapped the chips out of your hand. It wasn’t until he was hauling you to the garage and strapping you into the passenger seat that you began to feel dizzy. By the time Rafael had driven to the emergency room, your skin had broken out into hives and your throat felt completely swollen. The last thing that you remembered before blacking out was your faithful cousin scooping you up and sprinting to the emergency room’s entrance.

You didn’t hear the end of it from your parents when you’d woken up from being unconscious after a couple of hours. Your mother spared no shame in relentlessly admonishing you, regardless of who was in the room, for your “stupidity.” The doctors and nurses offered you continuous looks of pity as they had to witness your many verbal lashings, though none stepped in to interfere. You were blamed for inconveniencing the family, for forgetting your EpiPen at home, for “forcing” Rafael to drive a car when he didn’t have his driver’s license yet, for obligating your parents to pay for your medical bills.

From that day on, your fear of your parents’ wrath was far greater than the fear of possibly falling prey to your fatal allergy.

All that gave you hope was your uncle and cousin coming to your defense. Unlike your parents, they showered you with care and love, especially Rafael who felt guilty and responsible for your admission. They nursed you back to health after you were released, Rafael promising you that he’d never let it happen to you again.

“Can I tell you something, Uncle?” You ask. “I didn’t even tell Jesse or Dina this. And I don’t think I ever could.”

“You never even have to ask, sweetheart. You know you can tell me anything.”

“I…” You gulp. “There was a point… while I was in the ICU that I was a little lucid for a few moments…”

You wring your fingers together in uneasiness as you stare down at your lap, unable to meet your uncle’s eyes.

“I… I didn’t know what was happening to me. I didn’t know I was going through anaphylaxis again. But I just knew… I felt that something was wrong with me.”

Your uncle listens to you intently, his chin on his hands folded as if he were praying.

“Something inside me… Somehow, I knew that I was dying,” You continue. “Or I knew that at that moment, I could die. I could keep going… or I could choose to let my body give out completely.”

You finally meet your uncle’s gaze.

“And I wanted to. I wanted to just… go,” You confess. “Not in a s-suicidal way. Not exactly, at least.”

Your eyes fill with thick tears.

“But… I wanted to be with him again. I knew that if I gave in, if I succumbed to whatever was killing me, I would see him again.”

Your bottom lip shakes as you continue.

“I miss him so f-fucking much, Uncle. I don’t know how to go on without him around. I’m so l-lost and confused, and all I want to do is talk to h-him about it. But I can’t. There’s n-nobody else in this world that I’ve ever felt as close to as him. Maybe except—”

You break off before you can finish, shaking off the memory of ocean green eyes and a constellation of freckles. The look on your uncle’s face tells you that he already knows how your sentence was going to end, but he says nothing.

“He told me he’d never let anything happen to me. He was always supposed to be here with me,” You sob. “I know that’s selfish. I know that his life didn’t revolve around me. But so much of mine did. I planned… I built my life to always include him. Now what the hell am I supposed to do?”

Your uncle’s sad eyes watch as you roughly wipe your cheeks of the tears uncontrollably streaming down.

“Sweetheart…” Your uncle begins as he stands up from the armchair to sit next to you on the couch. “You are not selfish. I know how much he meant to you. How much he still means to you.”

He takes your hands between his.

“I just…” You sniffle. “It’s been years. I thought I’d healed from it already. I thought I’d moved past all the pain.”

“It’s not a continuous thing, dealing with your grief.” Your uncle smiles softly. “You’ll have moments, hard ones where it’ll all feel raw and fresh again. It doesn’t mean you’re weak or selfish. You just have your own way of handling your sadness.”

You nod in acknowledgement of his words.

“But I think we both owe it to Raf to live our lives, to be happy without him around,” He continues. “His gift to us was time. Time with him and great memories. Even if he’s no longer with us, we’ll continue to carry that gift with us wherever we go.”

Your uncle smiles and you return it, though wistfully.

“I’m very grateful that you trusted me to share this with me,” Your uncle begins. “But don’t be afraid to talk about this with your friends. Especially those two.”

“Jesse and Dina?”

He nods.

“I see just how much they love you,” Your uncle says. “They seem like they would do absolutely anything for you. And I am so grateful that you have people like that in your life.”

“Yeah, they… mean so much to me.”

“I’m glad. So, please. If I’m not around, don’t be afraid to confide in those two. I’m sure if the roles were reversed, you’d do the same for them.”

“I’d do absolutely anything for them.”

“Exactly. So don’t be afraid to embrace the love in your life. You deserve that. And that’s exactly what Rafael would want for you.”

You throw your arms around your uncle and sob into his shoulder.

You and your uncle continue to talk for a while until you realize that it’s nearly midnight. Like your friends, he offers to stay the night in case you need him. But you know his flight home was only in a few short hours, so you insist that he go back to his hotel to get a bit of sleep before he needs to leave for the airport.

It took everything in you not to beg him to stay, but you couldn’t bear troubling him further. And you longed to finally have some time to yourself, so you put on a brave face.

After your many assurances that you would take care of yourself better, you walk him to your front door. When you open it up, you both notice a simple brown box with a thin bow placed on top of your doormat. You pick it up, noticing how light it feels in your hands.

“What is this?” You mutter.

“You got a package?” Your uncle asks, looking at the box.

“No… I didn’t order anything.”

“Strange. Maybe your friends Dina and Jesse left it for you.” He offers.

“I… I guess,” You frown. “Although, I don’t really know why they wouldn’t just give it to me when they were here earlier.”

“Hmm, that’s true,” He hums, squinting his eyes at it. “A secret admirer, perhaps?”

“Ha ha, Uncle. Very funny.”

You give him an amused grimace before untying the bow and removing the lid. You gasp as you recognize what it contains.

“Oh…”

You drop the box and embrace its previous contents.

“My Barbie Bear…”

author's notes:

thank y'all so much for you patience waiting for this new chapter to come out. i literally wrote like, half of this while in the psych ward, and that was all the way in decemeber sldkfjlsdk

tbh i meant this chapter to be a lot shorter than it turned out to be but lskdjfs more content for y'all ig!

reader's first words after waking up is inspired by me saying, "i need to poop so bad" when the doctors were busy working on me in the emergency room lmaoooo

silver lining of me being in the icu back in december is being able to describe it in detail in this chapter hehe. being in the icu suuuuucked but mostly cause it was boring and cold and i wasn't allowed to get up to pee!!!

the nurse yoojin is named after one of my nurses while i was in the hospital. i loveddddd her, she was such a sweetheart and it made me so happy whenever she was assigned to me. i was rewatching arcane while i was in the hospital, and she saw and asked me about it, and then we gabbed about the show and league of legends (cause she religiously plays the game but hasn't watched arcane yet), and i eventually convinced her to actually watch the show heeeheee

reader’s uncle saying he sees reader as his own is what uncle iroh says to zuko in atla, fun little easter egg heehee (you know me and my love for easter eggs)

reader greeting tara on the phone as satan was how i first greeted my best friend when i was finally able to call her through the public phone in the psych ward (hi rhi LOL)

pink gold peach is my main in mario kart lol

reader's professors mentioned are all named after old professors from my former college's theatre department (rip dennis, miss you always ❤️)

reader’s uncle telling her “we make a place for him in our hearts” in regards to rafael is what tara in buffy the vampire slayer says to dawn when their mom dies (can you tell i love btvs)

working on the next chapter asap, lmk what you think of this chapter in the meantime!

also i made an ao3, so if you wanna read on there too, check it out!

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @keizzzn, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn, @uraesthete

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please note that i am no longer accepting requests to be added to the taglist, so if you would like to be notified when a new chapter comes out, please follow @ belleloves and turn notifications on!

#nobody compares to you series #ellie williams #dealer!ellie #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #the last of us #tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #ellie fanfiction #belle speaks #belle writes #Spotify

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spxcefarer · 10 months ago

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Starfield Radio Stations (a collection of Spotify playlists)

Sooo I got super bored yesterday and made 11 (yes, eleven) Spotify playlists for radio stations I made up for the Starfield universe. There's a huge mix of genres, so I thought maybe some of you guys might like to listen too. I've aimed for around 50 tracks each but total lengths vary a little. You can also click here to see all the tracklists.

Red Rock Radio - "martian radio for all your heavy listening needs" - perfect for dogfights and shootouts. Heavy, rhythmic, lots of classic and contemporary hard rock. Probably something the Red Devils would listen to, and a personal favourite of mine.

Space-DST Radio - "classical rock to ease you through the spacelanes" - recently taken up space-trucking? Got you covered. Road-trip bangers and dad-rock in this one.

Asteroid FM - "ambient tracks for when you're lost in space" - think lots of instrumental mountain banjo and some psychedelic rock themes. Some vocal tracks but not many, very mellow in general.

Atlantic FM - "feel-good indie for drowning out the corporate drones" - what it says on the tin really. New Atlantis vibes - up-beat, jazzy, designed to make you feel better.

Radio Cheyenne - "music to awaken your inner space cowboy" - Akila City vibes at their finest. Country, blues and soft rock, very frontier-esque.

RADIONEON - "electronica for those neon-lit nights" - upbeat synth and punchy drums to vibe/dance/astral project/kill bad guys to. Some indie and some more mainstream tracks in here.

RADIONEON ASTRAL FM - "entrancing electronic beats" - made to fit with the air of the Astral Lounge, lots of trancey EDM and house.

Stargazer Radio - "melancholy music found in someone's ancestor's collection" - for when you just need to drift through space and ponder life's troubles. Sad vibes, with modern and old stuff.

Planet Pop! - "a mix of popular music from old earth" - only stuff released before Y2K here, contains lots of 80s in this one.

Planet Pop! 2K - "pop music from after the turn of the millennium" - a mix of dance and classic pop tracks released after Y2K. Tried to keep it space-themed but got carried away lol.

FM Voyager - "moog-ish music to drift in space to" - think 60s space music, and then multiply by 200. Not as many tracks on this one, probably the weirdest out of the lot.

Please let me know what you think!!

I've been so excited to share this I'd love to know if you have any favourites!

#starfield #bethesda #spotify #spotify playlist #starfield playlist #music

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crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf · 4 months ago

Text

Disgrace Chapter 5 : Crosshair x F!OC

After the night they had these two attempt to clear the air and ask the questions they've been avoiding, but even as Tah'nyem divulges some of her darkest secrets Crosshair can't help but notice the sudden coldness from his traveling companion. He's left with the decision as to whether or not he lets her pull away as they leave the liminal moon, crossing from his world to plunge headfirst into hers.

Chapter Specific Warnings: Mixed Messages, Brief descriptions of assault and murder (past tense), Gambling, Drinking, Mentions of hiring prostitutes, Heights, Kissing and then more kissing, Unwitting PDA. Crosshair holds a small child.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Authors Note: I was looking this over and found that the first page of this chapter had somehow gotten deleted :') I rewrote it but it has been a weekend fam.

Me: I don't write fluff, no sirree. Also Me:

✨✨✨✨Put the child on the Crosshair✨✨✨✨

Word Count: 7057

Dynamic: Princess x Guard, Speed running Co-dependancy, A Mangy Cat and his Aggressive little Chihuahua. She's a damsel, she's in distress- she can handle it.

<-Previous Chapter - Read On Ao3 {START HERE}

Music Inspo- Pleasure, By Justice Listen on Spotify - Listen on Youtube

-+-=Chapter 5 : Pleasure=-+-

I spread the tattered remains of my bag over the bed spread, and turned to the boxy droid I had found above the utilities

“You think you can fix it?”

01101110 01101111 00100000 01100011 01101000 01100001 01101100 01101100 01100101 01101110 01100111 01100101 00100000

A small terminal on its arm flipped to reveal a needle, and with a flash and whir of metal the gap in the luggage was closed. The droid turned, game me a little salute, and collapsed back into its dormant state. You could still see where the rip had been but the stitchwork was good and solid.

Soft snoring drifted to me from the hall and I looked up at Crosshair’s sleeping shadow in the bottom bunk.

We had stayed on the beach for quite some time... watching the planet rise.

Eventually the moment ended, Cross gathering our things, wrapping my silk shirt about my shoulders as he ushered us back into the safety of the bunker where we drifted off contentedly to our beds for some much needed, deep sleep.

Looking for more to occupy myself, I opened a few more cabinets around the room, eyeing my father’s emergency wardrobe.Getting an idea I grabbed a pair of suede slacks and a vibrant patterned silk shirt, spreading them on the bed.

“Hey, little buddy, I’m sorry to keep waking you, but do you think you could handle a bigger project?”

The droid peaked out of its folded position to look at the fabrics I selected.

01110111 01101000 01100001 01110100 00100000 01100010 01101001 01100111 00100000 01110000 01110010 01101111 01101010 01100101 01100011 01110100

That at least sounded interested.

“Do you think you could take these in to fit me?”

It circled the garments, then looked me up and down. Apparently pleased with its eyeballed measurements it picked up the pant leg, as well as it could, and pushed it towards me.

01011001 01100101 01110011 00100001 00100000 01001110 01100101 01100101 01100100 00100000 01110111 01100101 01100001 01110010 00100001

That sounded like an affirmative. I took the garments and slipped them on, noticing the light bruising on my inner thighs that suspiciously resembled hip bones. A small smile ghosted over me before I stifled the memories of the night and let the little machine get to work.

The droid put-putted about on its tiny hover engine, tugging and sewing fabric, a little laser knife trimming where it needed it.

“You couldn't have done that yesterday?”

I looked up from watching the droid tuck and stitch the waist of the slacks. Crosshair stood in the door frame, scratching the stubble that now covered his chin as he stifled a yawn. His eyes roved over the sleek, black pants suit that was emerging out of the altered materials. It concealed quite a bit more than a draped, oversized button up.

“Wouldn't that have been a tragedy,”

I turned my attention back down.

“I'd like to be able to tuck the legs into boots, please,”

He crossed the room to sit on the bed in front of me.

“Tragedy, huh?”

“Mm, don't tell me you have regrets, Life's too short, my friend,”

“No, no regrets…”

“Something though?”

“... Questions,”

Oh..

I sighed,

“... Nothing's changed. It would be unwise to continue, you know that… one time thing,”

His eyes seemed to pinch a moment, but it was fast.

“Not… that,”

He reached out, taking my right hand and stroked the small, purple scars barely noticeable on my thumb and forefinger.

“Who was he?”

Oh.

“You saw that, did you?”

“Only an idea of it,”

I sighed, as the little droid whistled that it was finished.

“Thank you … uh,”

I looked at the casing on the little bot,

5T-KH

“Hmm, can I call you Stitch?”

The droid whistled in what I've started to take as a, “yes,” and flashed a little display showing a low battery symbol before it shut into sleep mode once more.

I sat on the bed, and though I wasn't looking at him I could feel the weight of his gaze.

“You don't have to tell me, I wanted to ask, just… thought it intrusive, until…”

He trailed off making a vague gesture suggesting,

“Until, last night,”

Curiosity was an odd look on him, but maybe that's just because I hadn't known him long.

“Unkles Rah’den and Rah’dheko Kan…”

“Relations?”

“No, I was just encouraged to call them my Unkles, they were long time customers and family friends,”

Silence. A beat, two, and then a whisper,

“What did they do to you?”

It was a rough question, and for a second anger flared over me at his audacity… but I squelched it. I wasn't mad at him, this was an old, sleeping anger.

“It wasn't me… It was Kahtzi,”

He was quiet now, leaving the decisions on how much to divulge in my hands.

“She thought they were handsome, was always into the super buff type y'know, and uh, asked me to recommend her to them,”

I laid back on the bed to stare at the ceiling, sliding my palms on the comforter to hide how slick they suddenly had become.

“I never got a good vibe from them, but… I didn't think… that,”

I paused, anxiety high, but my voice had gone cold.

“They beat. her… bloody, Cross”

My words, though quiet, hung heavy in the air, my voice thick with the anger that still boiled over the old wound. Guilt and fear and vengeance.

“So, what did you do about it,”

He knew already. He saw it after all, as he looked at his reflection against the shadows in my mind.

“Widow’s Thistle, it's a native plant on Ga’hah, ve~ry toxi~c… I pretended I didn't know, or just didn't care, about what they did, I seduced them, and once we were alone…I stabbed them with thistle needles.”

I looked over my knee at him as I summarized the murder, I swear a small smile crossed his face.

“I only saw one,”

“Mm, one of the bastards survived, I stabbed into Rah’Den’s blood stream but lost the element of surprise… Rah’Dehko almost overpowered me, but ended up with an eyeful of toxic needle,

He lived but is horribly disfigured, face all a mess of purple and green veins… bacta doesn't work on skin affected by the toxin,”

“No consequences?”

“No, Vah'hadarr took care of things…”

I trailed off, thinking about my father's past actions and a small wave of fear turned me from chilled to frozen.

I've been acting selfishly…

I looked at him again, sitting there with elbows on his knees, chin on folded hands. He was staring hard at the wall as if working out the same conclusion.

“Well, I showed you mine… what's your deal, huh?”

“Some other time,”

He got up and went to the fresher, a second later the water was running, and I exhaled long and slow, calming my heart that had, at some point, started to race.

Well, that doesn't seem fair.

I scooped up the little droid box, putting it back in the utility cubby on its charging port and leaned down to grab the clean laundry out of the wash. The gown was trashed and I pondered pulling Stitch out again but I was in the mood to just abandon it. Crosshair's suit was ready though and I brought it to the fresher, walking in briefly to leave it on the counter.

“You're suits here, I'm gonna make us some breakfast,”

“Mm…”

It was oddly domestic, this set up, and it was starting to make me uneasy.

We need to get out of here before this gets out of hand.

I should have held that thought, as I rounded into the kitchen and caught sight of the data stick blinking on the counter.

~~~

We prepped to go. The instructions led us to a separate shed with extra fuel, and while Cross made sure the ship was filled, I was grabbing necessities from the bunker.

All the ready-to-eat food from the kitchen, travel cloaks from the hall closet… What else?

Oh!

I ran to the utility cubby and snagged Stitch from the little shelf, tucking it into my bag with the extra food and credits.

All set.

Confident I was now wasting time, I left, old boots contrasting oddly against the fine fabric of my improvised outfit. They fit, but had a lot of wiggle room and I tried to adjust my gate to the odd sliding feeling, slipping on the stones a few times as I quickly made my way back to the shuttle where Crosshair was waiting.

The latest set of instructions had us marked to land in the busy port in Nohct City on the dark side of the tidal locked Ga’hah. My father’s good relations in Coruscant had allowed a delay in implementing chain code systems for the tourist port, we can land without registering. From there we meet a transfer who will help us through to one of the edge stations, where we then take the civilian rail to Sohn on the opposite side of the equator mountain range. Complicated, but easier than trying to covertly land directly in Sohn or apparently, send someone to pick me up directly from Nohct.

Once the moon rotates to face away from its planet, we'd be off. I looked up at the sky now, the massive edge of the gas giant curving across the horizon as it set, still partially blocking the view of the sun. It was almost time.

I boarded the little ship, dropping the full satchel behind the co-pilot seat and took in the clone lazily reclined in the other, feet on the dash, toothpick in mouth.

“How long have you been done?”

“Ages,”

“You didn't think to come back for me? Could've helped me carry that,”

I pinched him between the plates on his arm and he slapped back playfully.

I looked around the dismal little craft.

Yup, still depressing.

“Everything's ready to leave this place, huh?”

There was an unintended sadness to my tone.

“Almost,”

It must have carried over as a hand slipped around my wrist, drawing me closer to the other chair.

I knew that look, and resisted, pulling back against the insistent, guiding pressure.

“What's wrong?”

I sighed, that tingle of fear pricking the edge of my consciousness as I met his questioning eyes.

“We shouldn't, Once we leave here…”

He tugged more forcefully, and my knees buckled against the chair cushion. I caught myself from falling into him completely, hands finding purchase on the headrest. I had him pinned, but he had the power as he turned my chin down with one hand, tossing his pick aside with the other.

“For the road?”

…

Kriff it, can't do any more harm…

I leaned down and met his lips, sharing a final kiss before we left our private sanctuary.

We pulled back slowly after several minutes, a little too hot under the collar to be wise. At some point I had crawled more into the seat to straddle him, the buttons to my top mysteriously undone.

“You ever been to Ga’hah before?”

It felt silly asking something so basic now.

“No… tourist trap isn't it?”

“Nohct City sure is, it's where the race track’s located,”

“That I know,”

“You like pod racing?”

“No… that's where we meet our contact,”

~~~

We abandoned the small shuttle in the docking lot, avoiding the attendant droids taking registration and payments while slipping into the throngs of landed people making for the entrance gates to Nohct City.

Great spotlights framed the gate's pillars, the top of which held up a large arch with carvings of the Three Southern Moons which, if you looked up, loomed large in the sky casting the Southern half of Ga’hah in light and tepid warmth.

The first impression of the planet was a garish spectacle of bright lights, flashing signs, and various holograms showing examples of the performances held within the buildings they stood upon.

I noticed Crosshair watching a recording of a towering blue Twi’lek performing an impressive operatic above us as we were swept into the bustling thoroughfare.

“You want her?”

I had to nearly shout to be heard over the din but he caught what I said and his attention snapped to me. I pull him closer to me to make it easier to talk.

“She'd normally be above a soldier’s pay grade but… I could get her for you, as a thank you for a job well done?”

He didn't answer, eyes flicking back to the recording with an expression of discomfort. My mind wandered to his goodbye kiss.

I'll be home soon, the mission complete…

“Would it be more tempting if I came along? We could take her together…”

I purred it, and caught the look of surprise I was waiting for.

Tahny girl, what are you doing?

“Not enough time? Maybe you'd prefer to look me up when you have some leave, back on Coruscant, Kahtzi and I could take care of you…”

The offer was teasing, but there was a hopeful sound to that last part that wasn't a part of the script. A flurry of things passed behind his eyes, his tells were subtle, but easy to learn. I had hit the nerve I was apparently looking for.

“What about it being a one time thing?”

I need to back off…

“Me and you? Like that? Sure… you have your orders, but your orders only last as long as the mission, right? You can come see me again?”

… That's not backing off.

I must have reminded him we had a purpose here because he looked back around the crowd. We were jostled by the masses before I could bully an answer out of him and he grabbed hold of my arm, guiding us out of the rushing current of incoming tourists.

As the path opened up into a wide square I pointed ahead of us.

Framed against the backdrop of the sun lined mountain range, the massive complex that housed the racetrack glowed like a beacon against the sky.

“That's the track, when do we meet our connection,”

He tapped the data stick and checked the projection against the holopad I took from the bunker.

“The meetup is in four hours,”

“So time to kill…”

I glanced around the busy square.

Ah, yes!

“Let's get some caf and cool our heels, yeah?”

“We should lay low,”

I sighed..

“That is laying low, c’mon,”

I hooked his arm and headed to a building off the main corridor, there were groups of spun metal chairs and tables collected under strings of colorful beaded lanterns. Steering for a table with a good view of the square I fished a handful of credits from the bag still in tow.

“Here, go grab us something, I'll stay put,”

I crooked my fingers in promise and he hesitated, wanting to protest but unable to find a reason that wasn't petty. Eventually he gave up and asked,

“What do I get,”

I shrugged at that.

“Whatever they recommend,”

He stood a moment looking at the credits in hand before turning to the service counter.

I watched him talk to the Ga'haiian manning the storefront, his shoulders giving away his tension as he leaned on the counter to wait for our order.

A group crossed my line of vision, and I lost sight of him a few moments as the current ran it's course through the tight aisle between tables. When it cleared however, and I caught sight of the man again I noticed a youngling had broken away from the throng of people and had clung to his leg, mistaking him for whichever chaperone had lost track of him.

Crosshair jumped, which caused the kid to jump, realizing the clone wasn't the face he was expecting. The child immediately dissolved into tears.

“Oh…”

I got up to help but Cross was dropping to a knee, still stiff- but with practiced confidence; saying something that slowed the tears and soon the little one was nodding along hopefully. The youngling was answering now, and Crosshair sternly picked him up to sit on his shoulders, making the kid taller than the Ga'haiians speckling the crowd.

I stayed standing by our table, watching the adorable, if not odd little spectacle play out. He looked good with a little tyke on him like that.

I caught the soft smile that had started to creep up on me and reset myself into something more neutral. The soldier was pointing to something in the middle distance and the child nodded enthusiastically. They were gone, Crosshair darting into the crowd with surprising dexterity as he delivered the kid back to a pair of panicking adults several paces away.

He caught me watching him as he made his way back to the counter and I tilted my head in a slight bow raising my hands to give him a soft round of applause.

My goodness, I think he just blushed.

I sank back into the metal seat as he was handed two cups topped with whipped foam. One swiftly appeared before me and I flashed him a little sly smile.

“Good work, soldier,”

“On the caf?”

“On the kid, dummy, looked more natural than I expected… you do that kind of thing a lot?”

“Use to…”

We both sipped our beverages, the bitter acid cut with a sweet, berryish syrup. It was rather good.

“Is that a story you're willing to tell me?”

“... Maybe,”

Well, that's progress I suppose, but I knew more than he was telling and it was difficult to keep biting my tongue.

And Kahtzi says I'm avoidant.

“I thought your tattoos were cultural,”

I looked up,

“Hmm?”

“Your makeup,”

He cocked his head to the Ga’haiian girl behind the counter.

“They don't seem to have it, or the ink on your arms,”

“Oh… they wouldn't,”

I traced over the fading ink on my wrists,

“The dedication ceremony isn't really practiced much, I started doing it at some point to be fashionably unfashionable and ended up just… enjoying it,”

“And the tattoos,”

“These are a practice amongst the nobles of Sohn, most Ga'haiians don't have them,”

…

“You didn't think to mention that earlier?”

“They're not that noticeable…”

His eyes narrowed and darted back to the few visible natives casting unsubtle glances in our direction.

“I mean it's not uncommon to visit Nohct,”

“We should get off the street,”

“Easy, we're in civilization now, no one's gonna just… jump out at us,”

He didn't ease, instead standing, making an attempt to down the rest of his drink. A feat which would've looked more serious if he didn't get foam on his nose in the process.

Stifling a giggle I handed him a napkin, standing as well. The man was never completely wrong, and my marks were drawing some attention.

“Let's go somewhere I'll blend in better,”

I took his arm and started guiding him up the main corridor towards the Grand Casino perched over the prized raceway. It wasn't the only casino lining the massive passage, but if we were to find any congregation from the elitist Sohn side they'd be at the qualifiers banquet. Which, we should avoid, but no one should blink at me wandering around the casino with a bodyguard.

The building was massive once you were in its shadow. Its front was carved from a solid block of lush blue stone forming sweeping, shallow staircases. Gold inlays were hammered into every step as it led through gates of glowing neon lights blinking a dazzling pattern that would give you a headache if you stared at it directly.

Crosshair kept glancing at his feet as we crossed the threshold into the massive gambling den. There was an epitaph inscribed on the precious stone foyer in Ga'haiian.

“By Be'llahl’s Pleasure”

I translated, and he looked up at me.

“What is Be’llahl the god of…exactly,”

I laughed at that and pushed him further into the building out of the way of incoming patrons.

“Isn't it obvious?”

We had reached the floor where groups of people gathered around tables of spinning, whirring devices. Some threw dice, some dealt cards, all were engrossed in the thrill of the game. Beautiful men and women of multiple races walked between the tables carrying drink trays to guests and little droids darted about the floor, cleaning up spilt ice and the occasional stray credit. The walls were draped in portraiture of the escorts available and their performance times, many of the faces familiar.

He still looked like he was waiting for an answer, so I gestured to the examples around us.

“What do you see?”

“Gambling.”

“Mm, yes one indulgence, what else?”

“Booze,”

“And sex, and beauty, and music, and food”

“I don't get it,”

“Be’llahl is a pleasure god, li’nen, specifically pleasure for the sake of it, who gave birth to culture itself… not like any one believes in the old gods these days, more of a mascot really,”

He chewed a toothpick, processing the clanging, bleeping, whirring casino floor, and I poked his side.

“It’s telling you to relax and have fun,”

Getting an idea, I grabbed him again, pulling him into the game pit.

“I'll show you what I mean,”

I steered us to an embankment I was well familiar with.

“What's this?”

He eyed the attendant with distrust.

“You'll like it, watch,”

I slid some credits onto the counter for show and the attendant passed me a basket with three little darts inside.

The holoscreen flashed and suddenly displayed a starfield. It looked like it went on forever. Buttons on the console in front of me lit up with the chances 1x, 3x, and 5x displayed. I put a single credit in the 1x tray and the screen zoomed in. I could now make out a star system rotating rather quickly, planets and moons orbiting in a predictable pattern with different point values.

I took a dart, and aimed at a slow moving moon worth the lowest value, hitting it with a generated pop as the physical object penetrated the hologram and buried itself into the game's backboard. The little moon exploded and the value was added to my payout.

The next shot I took missed, and my points dropped down to zero. Same with the third, and the attendant took my credit while thanking me for playing.

I never got better at this game, so I shrugged and handed a credit to Crosshair.

“In your wheelhouse?”

He was already sliding the credit into the highest payout slot and taking the offered darts.

I couldn't make much out at this level, being zoomed into a galaxy band, the heavenly bodies revolving in still a predictable, but wildly complicated dance. All the targets were small, but the high value pieces were also fast, and often blinked behind other obstacles.

“Careful now, a negative score will have us in debt,”

He just smirked and tossed the first dart, sending it through a dust belt. It hit its mark true, and the bonus was added to the tally. He caught on quickly.

A girl came to my elbow and offered me a complimentary spritzer and I accepted, sipping the weak drink and snagging another for Cross, who was letting the bet roll for another round of darts. They'll be free while we're playing and I weighed the idea of getting sloshed at one of the more cushy tables with a low buy in. I set the drink at his elbow and he seemed to sip at it without thinking, quickly engrossed in the game.

Glad he was relaxing, I stepped a few paces away and scanned the busy Casino floor. Guests lingered about at various betting tables, families steering their younglings away to more age appropriate activities, and security keeping an eye on things. They blended in well, but once you saw them they seemed to be everywhere.

A group of Katjarls began hissing at each other at one of the bars. Before it turned into a full out yowling match security was already there to break it up. No causing a scene here.

I turned back to the game bank and nearly choked on my drink as I shuffled back to the counter.

“Thank you! That'll be all for us,”

I slammed my hand between the attendant and Cross’s outreached one waiting for more darts.

“What happened to low profile?”

I hissed, taking in the score counter.

“You couldn't have held back a little?”

My fault, but by Be'llahl I was gone a karken second!

“What's the problem?’

The hair raised on the back of my neck as he leaned down to talk low in my ear. He sounded like he was masking disappointment with an air of irritation.

“Fleecing the house is not how you go unnoticed,”

“And how would the gentleman like his winnings?”

The attendant had cocked an eyebrow at me, putting the ball in my court as to what to do about the ridiculous payout.

“What's the charity this quarter?”

“Oh… uh, that would be for the Rebuilding the Ravages of War fund, Miss,”

“Perfect, give us a fifth and donate the rest,”

The Ga'haiian nodded, and winked at the faded ink on my forearms before heading off to count the credits.

I expected a protest that never came and tilted my head to look at the soldier next to me, armor partially hidden by the cloak we took from the safe house. He was standing in a forced casual position, staring craters into the back of the boy counting out winnings to the far side of the game bar.

Maybe he needed the cash…

Too bad, I wouldn't want that kind of attention even if we weren't… on the run? Underground?... Whatever. Walking away with that kind of money would have the higher ups in a tizzy. At least donating it helps their taxes so they're more likely to look the other way. We'll need a new way to kill the time.

I tapped his elbow to signal him to wait for the credits and stepped a few paces into the carpeted walkway. There were less bodies mingling away from the bars and tables and a breeze wafted through from somewhere unseen. A small bit of peace in the clamoring din of the game hall.

“Tah'nyem Ra! Dollface, what are you doing here?”

I spun on my heel, coming face to ruffles with a familiar costume.

“Jar’ath!”

I hugged the man with genuine enthusiasm, his slight build leaned into me and we kissed each other's cheeks where our tattoos smudged into color. His skin had gone pale, telling how long he'd been outside of Sohn.

“It's been so long, I haven't seen you-”

“Since you ran off to play ‘Madam’ on Coruscant? Mhmm, I remember,”

He flicked his bangs out of his eyes, the white hair hiding the streak of black over his ear as he fixed me with a faux haughtiness.

“Oh, don't sound so hurt, it's not like you didn't have your own career, What is it these days? I suspect that's why you're here?”

“Stars sake it's why I've been stuck here. It's qualifier season, Ga’hah’s hosting and I'm the MC! Can you believe it?”

I giggled at his outlandish gesturing as he complained.

“Didn't you always want to host the races?”

“Mm, true, and honestly couldn't be happier, despite Riot Racing having all the draw these days…”

He jutted his chin towards the game counter where Cross was being handed a satchel embroidered with the casino's motto.

“Who's Mr, uh… scary?”

He trailed off as the Clone sloped over, towering over the two of us as he drew even with my shoulders. Despite the glower in his demeanor I relaxed once he was near again, not wanting to leave him alone long where he seemed so… out of his element. It's like ships or a gunfight were the only places he felt comfortable.

“Jar’ath Saijen, this is Commander Crosshair of the Imperial Army, he's my guard for the event,”

With my father being given the governorship this wasn't a far off fib.

“Oh~h, a soldier,”

He extended a hand, all painted blue to the elbow and glittery pink gemstones on the nails. Crosshair took it, shaking it briefly. If the flirty tone registered he did well hiding any reaction.

“Mhmm, ye~ah, and how long have you been Kriffing little Miss Ra here?”

He may as well have struck me, the way my mouth hung ajar.

“Oh don't look so shocked! I've known you, how long? You're not this relaxed around someone lest you've bedded them, and when have you ever had a bodyguard? Tell me I'm wrong,”

He wasn't, and now turned to size up the clone.

“You're a tall one, not the tallest, obviously… but how's that work with a shorty like Tah’nyem? Do you use a stool or just avoid shower sex?”

I felt my cheeks warm slightly, making this the second wave of embarrassment in less than a week. I was getting soft.

Jar'ath let go of Crosshair's hand, who had frozen at the blatant questioning and I moved to redirect the conversation.

“Ah-”

It came out as a squeak. I cleared my throat and tried again.

“He's a friend, with the end of the war we have a lot of men looking for alternative work, I'm… gauging interest,”

Crosshair's eyes snapped to mine, but he didn't contradict my story.

“Oh? He's a clone, right? Can tell by the eyes… I'm not sure what the draw would be, you've kriffed one you've kriffed them all, he's different though isn't he… custom order?”

He went to feel up the armor plating, causing Crosshair to tense, but before he could move I was already there- hand wrapped tight around the slim, painted wrist.

“Watch your tone Jar’ath, I just said this is my friend, try not to be rude… er,”

He gasped in a patented exaggeration.

“Oo, look at you! It's like you care! Does Kahtzi know? She's gonna want a piece once she figures out you like him, like him”

I released his arm, sighing, there was no winning with Jar’ath. He'd been like this since we were young. It was his defense against the other kids who'd try to bully us smaller half bloods. Always the last word, never showing a shred of anything but amusement.

“I'll kill you later, but for now… where's the best place to get away from the crowd? We've been jostled for what feels like hours and I'm tired of it,”

I glanced at Crosshair. It was hard to tell exactly what he was thinking, but it was clear he wasn't fond of my old friend. Couldn't really blame him, Jar'ath’s invasiveness was like water in the hot oil that was Cross’s defensive silence.

“Mm, li’nen, it's your lucky day,”

He reached into his top and pulled out a key card.

“When the floor manager saw your friend's take piling up he wanted me to escort you to the main box party for the race, I'm guessing you haven't been yet…”

Kark, I knew we had drawn attention…

“Bu~t, you'll never guess who's in with all those nuvvy wuds today, Bly’ju Duhanis!”

I recoiled.

“Oh, no, please keep me far, far away from Bly,”

“Who's Bly?”

We both turned to look up at Cross, who had spoken for the first time in the exchange.

“Oh, sweetie he's one of little T’s suiters, isn't that right, Tah’nyem?”

“The most irritatingly persistent one,”

I groaned, thinking of the incessant holocalls that had me changing registries more than anyone would ever think to.

“You know, our big strong Commander could probably knock some fear into the boy,”

Jar'ath once again made to push up against the fitted armor only for Cross to step out of the way.

“Discretion, for once Jar'ath? For the love of Be'llahl?”

“That is blasphemy, little T, it's my pleasure to be as I am and do as I do, yes?”

“Would that infringe on my pleasure? Which may come to a crashing halt if it fell to the wrong eyes or ears?”

I glanced pointedly at the taller man, once again quiet but had shifted to stand closer to me and slightly more hidden from Jar'ath.

“Uhg, fine, but only because I love you and I already solved the problem anyways,”

He jiggled the key card.

“For high rollers like you, I convinced them to give me an unused key, you want privacy, I have you more then covered, Just be grateful I recognized your ass from all the way over there,”

He put the key card in my hand, and leaned in to kiss my forehead.

“Gotta run, the show's about to begin!”

And with an exaggerated bow, he was gone, the flamboyant fabric of his costume getting lost amongst the garish tourist chic pouring through the hall towards the arena where the day's qualifier races would soon be starting.

I turned to Crosshair and was startled to find him staring at me rather intently.

“What? What's the look?”

Not waiting for an answer I started moving us in the direction of the stadium seating looking for the number on the key that would indicate floor.

“You didn't even try to deny it… us,”

“There's no us, Wouldn't have been much point anyways, Jar'ath is the best cold reader in the business, practically clairvoyant, and he's known me longer than most so I'm particularly easy,”

He leaned into me, breathing against my hair as another group shoved by us on the way to the glowing stairs at the back of the game hall.

“So you do like me?”

I faltered from my relaxed stride and he chuckled. Sending him a cold glance we started up the stairs to the private balconies.

“So, if he knows you so well, why didn't you tell him the real story?”

The amount of people around us thinned as we ascended to the more expensive seating levels, eventually coming out into a quiet, empty hall. Plush carpeting muffled our steps and I lowered my voice.

“Well, didn't want to tell him much, its difficult to lie to him but he knows I wouldn't put much effort into covering up a tryst besides what's expected of me, hopefully he just thinks that's all I'm doing,”

Not like he'd sell me out to assassins, he would just find my present circumstances more amusing than my sex life… and he’s a varp of a meddling gossip.

“Hide… trysts often?”

“I think I just said I didn't, but what you really seem to be asking is how often there's a tryst at all.”

We had come even to a door emblazoned with a matching symbol to the key I was holding. Some of his behaviors were starting to make a pattern and I brimmed with irritation.

“I told you before, not as often as people would like to believe… If I didn't know better I’d say your words hold a tinge of jealousy,”

I pressed the key to the reader with a huff and entered the empty box. The balcony was wide with small tables scattered about, plush chairs tucked in. It was dark and I left the light off, not wanting to draw any more attention to us alone up here.

“Would it be wrong… if I was jealous?”

“You'd be a fool to form such a feeling about me, We knew this wasn't something that could continue… this story doesn't have a happy ending,”

I felt his arms weave about my shoulders, gently pulling me against his chest.

“I don't care about the ending…”

I blinked rapidly to chase away the heat that suddenly stung my eyes. Illogical reaction, there was definitely something wrong with me these days. Shrugging his arms off me I pulled away.

“Foolish,”

The divider overlooking the track was a low, sturdy stone and I leaned against it looking down to the checkered line where a horde of racers were standing by their pods waving to the crowd. Jar'ath could be heard over the cheering masses as he introduced each entry, little droids flew about, buzzing to each contestant. Giant holo screens showed the projections, flashing between the smiling racer and shots of their supporters in the crowd.

Crosshair approached me slowly, sliding into the soft light filtering in from the stadium and leaned next to me with his back to the crowd.

“Forget the end, What about now?... You and I…”

“You and I still have our duties, there's no escaping that,”

My tone remained one of admonishment, eyes casting about the other lit boxes on our level.

Even if we do see each other again…

“There,”

I pointed across the way to a crowded balcony. It was a few floors down but open to the sky, creating a larger banquet space framed by the backdrop of mountains. At its center booth, a handsome Ga'haiian sat in a white suit. Tall, tan, pure white hair slicked back and falling over his shoulders. Women lounged about, giggling and hanging about his neck trying to steal a kiss. The people around him were obvious sycophants, latching to the wealth and power, but the man didn't seem to mind.

Crosshair followed my gesture, catching as the man poured a sparkling bottle of something over the head of a fawning girl and laughed.

“That is my suitor, Bly’ju Duhanis, son of the richest family of Ga'hah and the galaxies most pompous idiot,”

The poor drenched girl smiled weakly as Bly moved his attention to the wait staff, knocking a tray out of one of their hands as he demanded more bubbly.

“Charming,”

“Isn't he? I hate the man… everyone knows that I despise him, and yet he's most likely to be my future husband, eventually he'll make my father an offer he can't refuse, his family can make almost anything happen and he feels… entitled to me,”

“Any particular reason?”

He was only half listening, a wandering hand bringing cool fingers to trace the lines on my forearm.

“Stood up for me once when we were kids, he got a broken nose and now considers it a blood debt, ignoring the fact that he turned to bullying me and my friends as an immediate reaction,”

I pulled my arms closer about me and away from his touch, adding a bite of accusation to my tone,

“And then there's you… what do you think the Empire will do when they find out you let them escape? ‘They won't be able to hide forever,’ right? It rings in you over and over,”

He stiffened, his hand that reached for me faltering.

“Oh come on, we're already neck deep in Secret Town here, how about we go over some of yours?...What's the plan once the Empire realizes they're alive? Will they just ignore it, or shove you into a cell never to be seen again?... Perhaps they'll just kill you.”

The events had been laid clear in his mind, the thoughts well tread as he went over them again and again, betrayal begetting betrayal. It wasn't easy to forget.

“That's not for you to worry about,”

He pushed off the barrier and moved behind me, arms forming bars against my sides as he leaned in again.

“I said I don't care how it ends,”

But if we keep doing this… I will.

He was nuzzling into my hair, keeping the contact light, whispering so that his lips barely brushed against my ear.

“I may never come back… I could die tomorrow, you could too… but that still leaves tonight,”

He was using my own sentiments against me.

I turned to face him, hips backed to the stone, arms weakly pushing him away, but my resolve was slipping as he refused to back off. His persistence remained gentle, as if to still the frightened animal he saw struggling behind the eyes that were avoiding his. Another light touch, a stroke of my cheek, turning my chin to meet his gaze as he had on the crimson moon.

“Tell me then, that once was enough, tell me your satisfied… and I'll never ask again,”

I don't know when the script had switched, my position as predator slipping away as I felt the web of him close around me. Suffocating.

His boot suddenly kicked mine out with a quick hooked motion, forcing me into a wider stance as he leaned in, holding my gaze. Those strong fingers now tracing a trail up the inseam of my suede pants.

A whistle pierced the air as the racers shot ahead on the speedway with a chorus of roaring engines. The onlookers were now reliant on the screens projecting feeds from the blind curves of the track as the roar echoed and dulled. The sudden rush of noise and excitement from the crowd shook me with adrenaline.

He didn't let the rush go to waste, letting his thumb caress just inside the crease near my groin, causing a wave of heat to crash onto the cold chills running down my spine. It was just a brush, a tease, serving it's purpose of relaxing my inhibitions.

“Don't make me wait forever…”

“Implying that you would?”

“Life's too short for regrets, that's what you said isn't it?”

…

“Tahny…”

Sighing in resignation as his hands slowed, sliding up to rest on my hips, I hesitantly leaned my head against his armored shoulder, breathing him in to ignite the sparks he was stoking within me.

He had me.

Fine then…

I leaned back, stroking his cheek… holding his eyes with mine as I crooked my fingers in promise, pressing the symbol to his chest.

“For whatever time we have, you, CT-9904 Crosshair, may have of myself, Tah’nyem Ra… as you like,”

“By Be'llahl?”

“... By Be’llahl,”

I was lifted to sit on the edge of the stone, his arms bracing me so I needn't fear falling as his lips found my neck, planting little kisses under my ear.

“As I like?”

Here's to recklessness and bad decisions…

“As you like,”

Letting myself give in, I wrapped my arms over his shoulders, bringing my lips to meet his and allowing the world to fall away again.

He was pressed to me, nothing but air to my back as the kiss deepened, becoming more possessive as the warmth of his tongue dove between my lips, searching desperately for mine. I wrapped a leg about his hips to keep steady, trusting him not to pitch us over as I answered his desperation with a soft moan.

Pulling away to find my neck again, he alternated between soft kisses and sharp little nips between my ear and the collar of my shirt… I had to resist breathing his name with each little jolt. He had shifted to hold me steady with one arm, his dominant hand set to exploring again, up my chest and into my hair.

I was frustrated at the thick plates over his shoulders and slid my hands to his ribs, curling my fingers into the sole gap to tug at him. He bit my neck slightly harder, making me gasp, before moving back to kissing me, hand still holding me still by my hair.

This was different than before… an odd bliss to it, only broken by a quiet, buzzing that had slowly crept up to us. The crowd below had broken into wilder cheers and jeering.

Our attention snapped to the small hover droid, scanning us onto holo screens under a gaudy, romantic banner. Jar'ath was saying something about a cutest couple award, suddenly finding himself at the top of my hit list.

I did my best event smile and wave routine as Cross and I slunk back into the shadows of the box. The screens were now zoomed in on Bly, shaking and furious as the desperate girl attempted to lean in for a kiss. The camera cut as he turned to storm off, pulling his security in tow as he went. It was safe to say he probably recognized me.

Great, more people on my tail.

“Cross, can you see the announcer booth from here?”

“Yes…”

“Shoot Jar'ath for me,”

He grinned at that.

“My pleasure.”

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ellethespaceunicorn · 2 years ago

Text

Bright Like The Moon: Chapter 8

Chapter 8: I Was So Much Younger Yesterday

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Fandom: Night Hunter

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Black!OFC

Word count: 3K

Summary: Kamaria Mansfield is hired at the Minnesota Police Department as an intern. Detective Walter Marshall is overworked and unsatisfied. Takes place post-film.

Chapter Summary: It’s time to celebrate Faye’s 16th birthday. Also, Walter works out a way for Kam to practice expressing her needs.

Chapter warnings: crying, Daddy kink(if you don’t like this, turn back now because damn), slight dumbification kink, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v sex, creampie, creampie tasting, the term ‘cumslut’ used lovingly

A/N: New Story Art! *cheering and applause* Now, it’s time to get to serious business. Um, I like Angie. And I wrote her like I see her. Also, this chapter gets quite kinky so heed those warnings, please. Un-beta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me, model for Cover Art credits

Cross-posted on AO3

Spotify Playlist

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Kamaria’s POV

Three Months Later

“...Happy Birthday dear Faye, Happy Birthday to You!”

We all cheer as Faye blows out her sixteen candles. Her parents stand by and film their child celebrating with her friends. Angie starts to cut the cake and gives Walter slices to hand out. They work so well together. You’d never know they went through such a rough separation.

Sweet Faye with her curls and her chubby cheeks, looking for all the world like the baby she was. Her purple cocktail dress matches the flower in her hair that I helped her with.

It was nice to feel like a part of the team, working with Walter and Angie on organizing the party for Faye. But, let’s face it, it was mostly me and Angie doing the planning and Walter nodding along. Angie and I got along well enough, I think she just appreciated that I cared about Faye and that meant more than anything.

Angie says goodbye to the last guests leaving while I finish tidying up Faye’s gift haul. She dozes on the couch curled up on Walter who is snoozing as well. Angie moves a blanket over both of them and comes to help me clear away dishes and any lingering trash.

“I have to thank you for helping out with Faye earlier. She’s in that stage where everything I say is just not ‘cool’ enough,” Angie wipes her hands on a dish towel and looks from Faye’s sleeping form to me, “I remember this time in my life where my little girl valued my opinion above all else. And now it’s like she chooses the exact opposite of what I suggest.”

“Don’t worry. She’ll realize one day that she is so lucky to have a mother who actually wanted her,” I squeeze my eyes closed, deciding to open this old wound, “My mom never wanted to be a mother and she made that abundantly clear by leaving me and my Dad when I was a kid. He was never emotionally available so I had some interesting times in life, to say the least. But, just know that I’m sure she’ll come around. It may be in a year or two, but for now, you have a Daddy’s girl on your hands.” I laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

I don’t notice Angie coming to my side until she puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Having a loving mother next to me offering me comfort is suddenly too much to handle and my eyes start to blur from unshed tears. I begin to protest my emotional reaction but then Angie speaks.

“It doesn’t make you weak to cry when you’re upset.”

Her hushed words are like a soothing balm on a decades-old burn. One shaky breath is all I take before the tears are streaming down my face. Angie’s face crumbles as well and she wraps her arms around me. I realize that it has been a long time since I’ve had a “Mom hug” and I cling to that warmth as I quietly weep.

When my sobs turn into sniffles, Angie rubs my back in calming circles. We separate and she cups my cheek in a display of affection. I nod and smile in appreciation before taking a deep breath to collect myself.

Walter and Faye pick this moment to finally wake up. Thank goodness for small favors, they missed my little moment. I wipe my eyes and face quickly before smiling at my boyfriend and his daughter. While Faye is none the wiser, I can see the gears working behind Walter’s eyes. He can always see right through me, but he won’t make his suspicions known until we’re alone. Something I truly love about him, he is not a scene-maker.

I walk over to Faye and give her a big hug before sitting down next to Walter and holding his hand. “How did we do on your big day, sweetheart? I’ll take you falling asleep as you had quite a time.”

“It was perfect. It was everything I wanted. Thanks, Mom and Dad. Thank you, Kam.” The grin never left her sweet face. It is all worth it to see her happiness.

“You’re welcome, love,” Walter cupped Faye’s face and she beamed back at him. Truly a Daddy’s girl.

“Alright, birthday girl. You are welcome to stay up as long as you like. Just for tonight, that is,” Angie walks over to us and kisses the top of Faye’s head before smiling at Walter and me, “I am going to bed. Thank you both for your help today. Goodnight.” She pats my shoulder before heading upstairs.

If Walter notices our non-verbal exchange, he doesn’t mention it.

“Alright, girlfriend. Who was that adorable kid with the curls? He was cute.” I can’t help but make Faye blush and make Walter roll his eyes. It’s like my talent.

“That was Albert. He’s in my English class. He likes Federico García Lorca and Mission: Impossible movies. That’s all I needed to know.”

“Which means he either knows enough to seem intelligent or enough to actually be intelligent,” I smile and yawn before stretching.

“On that note, I think it’s time for us to get home and for you to get to bed.” Walter ends the conversation without adding his two cents about this Albert kid. Faye gets the hint and follows suit.

“Yeah, I’m tired anyway. Thanks again, you guys.” Faye yawns sympathetically.

Walter and I leave after hugs and final birthday wishes. On the car ride back to his place, Walter decides to bring up his worries.

“So, did something happen while Faye and I were out?” He broaches the topic carefully.

“Angie was feeling a bit left out of her daughter’s life. I simply told her that she has a Daddy’s girl on her hands.” I smile at the side of Walter’s face and look back at the road.

Walter surprises me by pulling the car over and turning to face me. “You want to try that again, Princess?” The pet name is enough to put my brain in gear and answer fully.

“I told Angie about how my Mom never wanted me. And then I cried. A lot.” I hated how he was so good at getting me to say what I didn’t want to say. But I had to respect his abilities.

“Why do I always have to work so hard at getting the truth out of you, Princess?” He reaches over to hold my chin between his thumb and forefinger, “You’ll work on that tonight, do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy. I understand.” Suddenly out of breath, I slip into subspace with ease.

Walter’s POV

I love this woman, I do. But there is nothing harder than getting her to face her emotions. Getting her to tell me when she’s dealing with sadness or anxiety is like pulling teeth. I have literally been in the line of fire before. But getting her to admit when she has cried is harder than any S.W.A.T. mission I have ever been on.

We get back to my place and after her shower, I instruct her to stay undressed. I have her sit on the bed against the headboard. While I undress, I deny her the ability to touch herself. I watch her squirm while I slowly remove my last piece of clothing.

My dick throbs between my legs as I lock eyes with her. She licks her lips and fights the urge to reach out and touch. I settle on her punishment and a little piece of me actually feels sorry for her. This one might wreck her.

“Since it’s so hard for you to be honest about your feelings, we’re going to work on that tonight. You have to express when you have needs. All you have to do is tell me what you need when you need it. You must use your words, Princess. Is that clear?” I cross my arms and look down at her.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” I smile as the praise washes over her, “How do you feel about restraints, baby?”

She shifts on the bed a bit and plays with her hands. “I like being restrained.”

“Good,” I reach into my nightstand and pull out a silk sash before beckoning her to sit at the edge of the bed, “Put your hands together for me, palm to palm,” She does as she’s told and I tie her hands together. “How does that feel? Not too tight?”

“Feels fine,” She scrunches up her nose and looks up at me, “I won’t be able to touch you, though.”

“Yeah. That’s kind of the point, Princess,” I push lightly on her shoulder so she lays down flat and her hands stretch above her head, “Just lie back and let me work. And you tell me when you need more or less, alright?”

She nods and I raise my eyebrows. “Yes, I’ll tell you what I need.”

“Good girl.” I lean down and capture her lips in my own. I poke at the seam of her mouth until she lets me enter. I lick into her mouth, tasting and sucking on her tongue. Moving my kisses to her jaw then to her neck, I suck and bite at her sweet spot until she lets out that precious little moan of hers.

Trailing my tongue across her clavicle, I kiss down her chest and lavish attention on her breasts. These perfect fucking tits I love so much. I kiss both nipples and knead the soft flesh but don’t go any further until I hear a whine. “Use your words, Princess. What do you need?”

“Your tongue…can you suck on my nipples, please?” Her breathing speeds up.

“That’s my good girl.” I swirl my tongue around one nipple while running my thumb over the other. I suck the pebbled peak into my mouth and tease it with my tongue. Suckling at her for a few moments more, I switch to the other side to give just as much attention. I feel her thighs rubbing together in search of friction, so I kiss down her soft belly, stopping to nip at her hips.

Pulling her legs apart, I can finally see my prize. I want to dive right in, but this is an exercise to have Kamaria tell me what she needs so instead I kiss at her inner thighs for far longer than I normally would have to prove a point.

“Daddy, please eat my pussy.” She pleads, moving her hips closer to my face. Such a good girl for me, and I tell her as much before I kiss her mound and then slide my tongue up and down her wet slit.

“Fuck! You taste amazing, Princess.” My hands grip her thighs tight before I begin to lap at her like a man starved. Her sweet nectar is more than enough to satisfy me and I want to drink her in and never look back. Her whimpers only make me work that much harder. Sucking on her clit, I let my tongue dance against the swollen bud and am rewarded with a squeal.

“Need your fingers, please.” Such a polite little thing, isn’t she?

“Yes, baby.” I reward her good manners with two fingers straightaway. She’s soaked and they slide in easily. We both groan and I massage that inner bundle of nerves before returning my attention to her clit. I flick my tongue on her button before working my fingers in and out of her core.

“Just like that, don’t stop!” Her words go straight to my dick and I curve my fingers. Before long, I can feel her channel clamp down on my fingers but I keep working at her as her juices coat my hand.

“Too much, too sensitive!” She cries, her body shaking under me. I lift off her clit and still my fingers before licking them clean and wiping them on the comforter.

“You did so good, Princess,” I kiss up her body and nibble at her neck, “But I’m not done with you yet, baby.” I get up from my spot between her legs and move her to the center of the bed. Maneuvering her on her side, I slide up behind her and lift her leg. I enter her swiftly and we moan in tandem.

I pull back out until just the tip is inside then I slam back in. Gripping her hip, I start a punishing pace inside her walls. The way her cunt squeezes me is like paradise. She was made to take my dick. I was made to claim her pussy.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” All she can utter is a string of curses and I feel triumphant that I fucked language right out of her brain.

“That’s right, Princess. Let this dick fuck you stupid, baby,” No sooner do I finish that sentence do I feel her walls flutter around me, “Oh does my baby like being fucked dumb on Daddy’s dick?” The answering whine tells me all I need to know. Adding ‘dumbification’ to the list of kinks my baby girl has.

Pulling out and moving Kam onto her back, I get to my knees and push her legs open, Entering her again, I reach up and hold her bound hands in one fist. From this angle, I can slam into her and stimulate her clit at the same time.

“Need to…touch you. Please…Daddy?” Her words are punctuated by thrusts, the look of yearning in her eyes.

I pull the knot free on the sash. Her hands immediately go to my hair to tug me down for a kiss. I can taste her desire and hunger for closeness. I growl into her mouth and she whimpers back. Her legs wrap around my waist and pull me in deeper. We pull apart from the kiss and rest our foreheads together.

“Tell me what you need, baby girl.” At this point, I am panting. So close to release. I just need to hear her say she needs it.

“Look at me while you cum inside me, Daddy,” This little brat actually smiles up at me as she shatters me.

“Fuck!” The dam breaks and my hold on reality fucks all the way off. My eyes search hers while I empty my balls into her waiting cunt. I keep stroking inside her and the sensation is heightened once I feel her come around me. She could gonna be the death of me, and I’d love every minute of it.

I lean down and slot our mouths together as I pull out. I swallow her whimper at the feeling of emptiness before I look down to see her thoroughly ruined snatch. My cum still leaks out and I can’t help but feel proud to see her so full. I smile down at her before getting up from the bed.

I clean up a bit in the bathroom before fetching a damp washcloth. Entering the room again, I find Kam lazily playing with herself. “Enjoying yourself, Princess?” I reach down and clean her gently.

“I love how sensitive I am right now. It feels so good.” Her eyes roll back in her head as my hand moves over her folds.

“Do you think you can give me one more orgasm, Princess?” I know I might be pushing it, but seeing her so aroused is making it worth asking.

“Yes, please, Daddy. I wanna cum again for you.”

That was all I needed to hear before I’m between her legs again. I lean down to lap at her slit. Tasting my spend and her juices mixed together is heavenly. Can’t believe I’ve never done this before. By the surprised moans coming from Kam, I’d say she was enjoying this as well.

After making out with her pussy for a while, my fingers find their way inside her tight wet heat. Curving my fingers as I move them in and out, I’m rewarded soon after with a strangled moan and her walls fluttering around my fingers. I wait until the convulsing stops to remove my fingers. A dirty thought enters my head and I run with it.

“Open your mouth, Princess,” As she follows direction, I lock eyes with her as I put my slick-coated fingers in her mouth until they disappear, “Such a good girl for me. Sucking our cum off my fingers like the hungry little cumslut you are.”

She moans around my fingers and if I didn’t literally just cum a liter, I’d be balls-deep in her again. When I remove my fingers from her mouth, she actually whines in protest. I can’t help but kiss that adorable pout before grabbing the washcloth again to wipe away the evidence of her arousal.

I throw the cloth in the hamper and lay down next to my love. I check her wrists to make sure the sash didn’t dig in too deep before kissing her forehead. “How’s my baby feeling?”

“I feel amazing. Spectacular,” She stretches and cuddles into my chest as I wrap an arm around her, “I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“I’m right there with you. I probably fried a few brain cells but it was so worth it,” I hold her chin and bring her gaze up, “I’m also proud of you for saying what you needed. Now, we just have to get you to do that out of the bedroom.”

“Practice makes perfect, right?” There’s my little brat.

“Cheeky. But not wrong. We’ll work on it together, yeah?” I say, pulling the comforter over both of us as Kam’s eyes start to close, “Love you, Princess.”

“Mhm,” Her short answer lets me know that she is absolutely fucked out and I’m chuffed, “Love you, Daddy.”

Her fingers work their way through my chest hair, something I’ve noticed as a comfort activity for her. If I was a cat, I’d be purring every time she does it. But if she ever found out how much I liked it, she’d probably use it against me somehow. Little minx.

I listen as her breathing evens out and I’m not far behind. I can safely say today was a good day. Nothing can ruin this feeling.

Can it?

Chapter 9

A/N: Ehehehe, that ending sounded menacing at all, did it…? Well, anyway. This chapter’s song was “Starving” by Hailee Steinfeld & Grey. “Starving” is about a relationship that’s getting more adventurous in and outside of the bedroom. I really enjoy writing in Walter’s POV, especially the kinky stuff. Hopefully, you enjoyed it too.

**Tag List**

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67

@enchantedbytomandhenry @astheskycries

@deandoesthingstome @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @foxyjwls007 @rosiesluv7 @livisss @slut4henrycavilll

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

#walter marshall #walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall x black!plus size female #walter marshall x black!plus size female oc #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall x black!ofc #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall fic #night hunter #night hunter fanfic #night hunter fanfiction #bright like the moon

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pointycorgiears · 1 year ago

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Here is a list of every Beatles song made reference to in my bughawk fic, Dear Prudence!

These are listed in order, by chapter. The songs that are listed as themes appear multiple times throughout the story.

Chapter 1:

Eleanor Rigby

Yesterday

Chapter 2:

Hello Goodbye

While My Guitar Gently Weeps - Crocodile's theme

Across The Universe - Mihawk's theme

Chapter 3:

Here Comes The Sun

Dear Prudence - Buggy's theme

Chapter 4:

Strawberry Fields Forever

Because

Helter Skelter

Let It Be

Chapter 5:

I Want To Hold Your Hand

Octopus's Garden

Chapter 6:

Don't Let Me Down - this is my bughawk love song lol

Something

You Never Give Me Your Money

Golden Slumbers / Carry That Weight / The End

Hey Jude

All You Need Is Love - this was kind of Zoro's theme

Honorable Mention:

Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds - I only mentioned the name "Lucy".

With A Little Help From My Friends - I was thinking about this when I wrote the summary

I will make a spotify playlist with all of these songs as well as covers of songs that helped inspire the story or what happened to be what I was listening to while writing it, if anyone's interested.

This was too fun to do. Thank you all that read my fic! It makes me so happy that you enjoy it!

#this fic is like 40% Abbey Road lol #that is such a good album #I worked on a mural of that album cover once #bughawk #buggy x mihawk #fanfiction #one piece #buggy #dracule mihawk #sir crocodile #hawkeyes mihawk #cross guild

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solarwynd · 10 months ago

Note

Right?? This whole week as LC was increasing I saw non stop tears and recriminations because "guys we need to focus on new releases". But somehow LC reaches one billion and now suddeny the new focus is getting every member to 1B. They don't even seem to be that sad that neuron has completely left the chart. It's been 1 week 💀

Anyway the project is doomed to fail like anon said. Many armys nowadays seem to have no concept of how charts or streams work. I don't think most of them have worked out how long it's going to take to get all of them to 1 billion. With the numbers as they are SNTY and LMA would probably be the easiest to get to 1 billion and it would still take at least half an year more to get that done. Reminds me of that one army yesterday who had no idea that the spotify counter is for unfiltered streams or that army from a few weeks back who tried to cover up being an anti by saying let's get LC to 1 billion in 3 days when it still had 20M left to go.

I used to think armys (and other solos) were being deliberately obtuse about things because there's no way they don't see the payola JK got or not know how the hot 100 or radio works but I'm becoming more and more convinced that the armys of today are not the ones from 2018-2021 because they seem to have no clue what's going on most of the time.

Fandom is already divided as hell - with the anti-company stans and boycotts, the pro-company stans demonising other armys, some outright antis masquerading as ot7s and everyone else only being here for bragging rights and fighting other kpop stans, things are not looking good for 2025. BTS better bring their a-game for their next work because if they're planning on skating by with some boring ballad as a title track, weak concept and with all of them sitting on chairs, its going to land them nowhere with the fandom in this state.

All I know is armys better point that finger at themselves if hobi doesn’t chart on hot 100 next week, cause I’ve never seen such a lack of effort for a bts member’s comeback in all my years of being in that fandom.

“I'm becoming more and more convinced that the armys of today are not the ones from 2018-2021 because they seem to have no clue what's going on most of the time.”

You’d be correct. A lot of people left with the english trilogy and onward and got replaced by the chart obsessed ones here now. Which sucks cause army twitter was better 2018-2019. It definitely still had it’s issues but armys back then were a lot more useful.

“BTS better bring their a-game for their next work because if they're planning on skating by with some boring ballad as a title track, weak concept and with all of them sitting on chairs, its going to land them nowhere with the fandom in this state.”

Chair era was the absolute pit. I know it was concentrated around the more ballad type songs but even spring day had choreo. Pair that with both LGO and YTC being dull songs everything was just so lackluster. And after seeing Jimin do smf2 level choreo, having to watch him go back to sitting on chairs would do me in. So I honestly hope that they don’t come back with that. Or them damn white dionysus clown boots!

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sandykunowo · 1 year ago

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Esto nomás es una parodia en Spotify usando la portada para mi animacion peor ya tengo lista eso,ahora solo necesito proceso de reboot wally en la animación de starboy xd

Creadora de rebot Wally: @bloodrediscream

Y ayer fue mi cumpleaños

(This is just a parody on Spotify using the cover for my animation but I already have that ready, now I just need a reboot wally process in the starboy animation xd

Wally Bounce Creator: @bloodrediscream

And yesterday was my birthday )

#welcome home #welcome home fanart #reboot wally #welcome home au #welcome home puppet arg

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lchufflepuffcorn · 1 year ago

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Meeting you pt. 7

(Not my gif, credits go to its owner/creator)

Author's note: Hi !! I think it's been like a year or so since I posted anything about this series... It's been worked on, don't worry, I'm just awful at being consistent.

Words: 2716

Warning: None... longing... badly written emotions... all other warnings from this series...

Masterlist OGW Masterlist

Serie Masterlist

Part one Part two, Part three, Part four, Part five, Part six, Part seven.

Spotify link

In the night's secret

No sound but the wind- Editors

↺͏͏ ◁◁͏͏ ll ▷▷ ⋮≡

It took a little while for the three vampires to plan the perfect cover story for their situationship. Philadelphia was really the town of miracles for Alice's imagination. She'd come up with the story that Jasper was her brother and that (Y/N) was her sister-in-law. It always bothered (Y/N) that the short girl with her was so good at covering up the truth. But this time, the story was adequate and sensible for humans to understand.

Soon after leaving Philadelphia, the trio stayed in Toronto for a short time. The trio resided in a two-story building owned by a lovely older couple, who took them in without asking many questions.

"My brother doesn't talk much." Or "My sister-in-law is so discreet." Would say Alice when they were shown the apartment. The lovely -but quite nosy- Mrs. Grant quieted down after that. And (Y/N) remembered why she disliked living with humans all over again. Because the biting envy and bubbling thirst (Y/N) felt from Jasper was one thing, combining it with Alice's and the poignant curiosity from their neighbours was nothing short of unbearable.

Jasper was not much of a talker, and added to what (Y/N) knew from Alice's vision was not helping her communicate with the man. But the crisp and cold waves of nervousness she could feel wave off of him each time they talked weren't either.

Every time. (Y/N) knew that the conversations he forced on them were out of duty and under the encouragement given by Alice more than anything else.

It usually looked like this:

“It was nice today.”

"Hmm. Yes, the wind wasn’t as bad as yesterday.”

Or:

“What did you buy at the market?”

“Oh, just some clothes. You really need some new ones too…”

But slowly, the cold, shaky feeling echoing in her chest melted into a sparkling and lukewarm wind behind the skin of her neck, and the conversations started to center around things they both liked.

And then, after some months, (Y/N), Jasper, and Alice went to Alberta, where they had no trouble constructing their own small house not too far from the Slave River. It was hidden from society, perfect for the diet (Y/N) was trying to convert the other two.

And then, after some months, (Y/N), Jasper, and Alice went to Alberta, where they had no trouble constructing their own cabin. Situating it not far from the Slave River to add to the illusion of their rustic lifestyle. It was mostly hidden from society, perfect for the diet in which (Y/N) tried to convert the other two. It was also less complicated for Jasper to control his thirst for human blood if no humans were around. Plus, the surroundings were beautiful. (Y/N) liked hearing the birds in the early morning and having water run nearby.

''East from here, there's three of 'em.'' Jasper's voice said, floating in the wind and through the bushes around them.

The three of them were running in the forest, searching for prey. Jasper had smelled some moose earlier, but now they were chasing a bear and her cubs. (Y/N) did not hunt with the others often. She preferred to do it alone. But it was always fun to see how Alice and Jasper would try and compete for the first kill every time. While she didn't participate in their games, she liked watching them. It brought life to their undead lifestyle.

Running through the tall grass and between the tree's roots easily, (Y/N) spotted a rabbit. She lounged at it with ease. It didn't bother her that the animal was little. Smaller animals were more accessible for her to catch without butchering her clothes. (Y/N) didn't like to get dirt on her. Plus, rabbits never travelled alone. She would have plenty to feel full at the end of the hunt, and she wasn't in a hunting mood today, so it played in her favour.

It had been months since Jasper joined Alice's and (Y/N)'s little clan. He'd been charming and kind and helpful. Even if he thought it hard to change his diet -he often complained about how the animal blood tasted- he still tried his best. It was January seventeen now. A new year had started, yet Alice was deflating each day more to see that neither of her companions wasn't getting any closer. She found it infuriating.

Alice had seen hopeful moments, like when Jasper renovated the cabin. He'd taken (Y/N) words and requests to heart. Or when (Y/N) had consoled Jasper about one of his slip-ups, her hands brushing through his hair as he cursed himself in low growls. (Y/N) had nothing but encouraging words to give him. Then, of course, she gave him a stern talk about how she controlled herself by thinking about things humans did when she couldn't see them. Or again, when he was reading on the porch and (Y/N) was lost in her world, humming a melody only she knew. Alice had to confess that she'd never seen Jasper smile so softly before that afternoon.

(Y/N) liked to think that Jasper took his time to court her. She liked it that way. They had all the time in the world anyway. As she caught a second bunny, plunging her sharp teeth through the fur and into the skin until its still-warm blood flowed into her mouth, (Y/N) got a glimpse of the naked ring finger on her left hand. The familiar shine hadn't caught her eyes as it would usually have.

She'd removed the enormous wedding ring from her finger two months ago, preferring to wear it around the chain on her neck, where too rested a medallion with the triplet's picture.

''Ahah! You owe me ten dollars, Whitlock.''

Alice's laugh took (Y/N) out of her reverie. She looked in the direction her voice came from. The vampire couldn't see them anymore, but she knew they would come back in her direction soon enough. She let go of the now-empty rabbit she was still holding.

Raising from her spot on a tree root, she patted her dress to remove whatever could still stick to the fabric. Jasper's head popped out from behind the bushes. An amused smile lit up his face as he looked over the pixie-like vampire. The blond man stopped as he reached (Y/N)'s height, offering her his arm.

''If I could have the pleasure, miss.'' He said with a smile on the corner of his smile. (Y/N) responded to his smile with one of her own.

''If I must.'' (Y/N) teased the man, accepting his arm by wrapping her own around it.

The comfortable warmth of the calm he feels, yet a subtle hint of burning cold passion that resists in the pit of his stomach, made her eyes shine. The group walked back to their cabin. Their slow pace is now a sharp contrast to their earlier race.

''We'll have to get new shoes; you can't be comfortable in those old things,'' Alice called, referring to the boots (Y/N) wore. They were from her time as a nurse for the Second World War. Those boots were still in perfect condition. The older woman wasn't letting her things get hideous or unwearable. Still, she obliged at Alice's request.

''I think we could go in town this week.'' (Y/N)'s butterflies now associated with Alice exploded in her stomach as the girl's face illuminated with a smile. The tiny vampire held onto the other girl's hand before stopping all of her movement.

(Y/N) stopped walking to ensure that Alice wouldn't tumble over the snowy ground. Jasper stopped, too, getting closer to the girl in alarm. He was still getting used to Alice's gift. One of his hands met the small of (Y/N)'s back to help walk over some roots, but Jasper's attention was on Alice too.

''It's alright.'' She assured, starting to walk again.

''What is it?'' (Y/N)'s tone was worried. Since the other girl had revealed to Jasper and her that they were mates, (Y/N) had asked Alice not to hold secrets about her visions anymore. Especially if it concerned other people. But Alice only smiled at her, walking to the cabin. Jasper, ever the gentleman, held the door of the cabin open for both girls to enter it. He closed and locked the door behind him after following them inside.

Jasper was never much of a talker. So the girls had come to realize. But it was alright. His actions spoke louder than every word he could have said. The man walked to where both the girls were seated, but he stayed back a little. On the table was resting the piece of a rocking chair he was building at the moment; he took place behind it.

''We'll have a visitor soon.'' Said Alice before (Y/N) could reiterate her question.

''Visitor?'' Quipped Jasper, ''in this part of the woods?'' Alice shot him a smile.

''(Y/N)'s old friend, my mate, I think.'' This got (Y/N)'s attention. She, too, was wondering why they'd have a visitor so far from civilization. There were only two people who knew their location, and those people were Thade and Esther. The older vampire's face darkened with a frown.

''Which friend?'' She asked. Her hand went to the necklace she wore, holding onto the locket hiding the triplet's picture. Not all of her friends were recommendable frequentations. But Alice only smiled and rose to leave the room. (Y/N) sighed but couldn't ask anything more.

The cabin was somewhat small. Not that the vampires minded it. It was big enough to maintain purpose: not living outside like homeless people. They might not be in any states now, but they could still live comfortably. It had one large room and two smaller ones behind the wall. It gave them the chance to have their place if need be.

Her ring finger slipped into the wedding monument she still had, then back out. A comforting habit (Y/N) took since she started wearing it around her neck.

So it couldn't be Thade, that was for sure. But, on the other hand, Thade has been married to Esther ever since (Y/N) could remember meeting both of them. So maybe it was Gabriel. Last she'd heard of him, he was somewhere in France teaching history at a university. So that left – in the reasonable choices of friends (Y/N) would leave Alice with – either Gregory or Elliot. But would Gregory come to visit her out there in the woods? Esther, she knew the man was still bitter from their encounter during the First World War, as she was on the Allies' side, and he was on the Nazis.

That only left Elliot.

''What are yeh thinkin' about?'' Asked Jasper from his seat. He could feel her doubt just as she could feel his concern for her. (Y/N) turned her gaze to the man. He was still working on the rocking chair's part. Jasper's eyes shot up in her direction, staying for a second before wandering away.

''I wondered which of my friends was to be Alice's mate.'' She answered honestly.

The man hummed.

Jasper's hair seemed more strawberry blond in the candle's light than the honey colour they had in the sunlight. His frozen features, kinder in the natural glow, were darkened by the dancing shadow of the flame. The now yellowish eyes he now had matched his hair. (Y/N) could only imagine just what the man's past was to make his face so stoic and emotionless while she could feel every change in Jasper's humour. Even from where she sat, the woman could see on his arm -uncovered as he worked, littered with bite marks. (Y/N) never asked about it, just like neither of the vampires with her wondered about her story. They didn't know about Alice. She could not remember anything from her past except for her first name.

''I meant to ask,'' continued the man after a short silence. ''What's in the locket? You always play with it.''

''Old memories.'' (Y/N) rose from her seat and walked to the table, taking place in the chair facing Jasper.

Usually, the seemingly young woman had no trouble talking about her experience and life. Some things were too hard to speak about, and nobody had ever asked.

(Y/N) wasn't proud enough to assume her story could interest him more than any other. Tugging the long gold chain gently from her dress to present the locket better to the man in front of her, (Y/N) opened the locket to show the picture inside.

Alice shuffled closer to the both of them.

Three small boys were staring at Jasper and Alice now, a serious expression on their juvenile faces. The man thought they couldn't be much older than eight or nine years old. He guessed that it had been taken late in the eighteen-fifties, early sixties, from the black and white picture and their clothes.

"The first boy on the right is John, the second, the one with the hat's George, and the last one on the left is Lowett." (Y/N) let Jasper take the locket in his and, it wasn't to see any better the photos, but more like a reflex.

"Were they yours?" He asked. The man could see little resemblance between the triplets and the woman sitting before her in the rocking chair. But there was still something in the expression and the posture that reminded him of her.

''In a way,'' (Y/N) answered. "I didn't birth them or bite them, but they were my children nonetheless."

Jasper's eyes met hers. Alice smiled and got up. She silently walked to one of the other rooms, closing the door. She knew of this story and didn't want to put (Y/N) in more stress with her emotions in the room again.

''They were vampires?'' (Y/N) smiled at Jasper's expression. But, then, his incertitude swung in her throat like a monkey to a branch. She shook her head.

''They didn't live long. And brought my creator's death with theirs.'' Jasper's expression didn't change. He looked conflicted. (Y/N) continued, shrugging. ''It doesn't matter now. It was a long time ago.''

''And the ring?''

(Y/N)'s smile faltered a little at his question. Then, from the other room, they heard Alice sigh. Her disappointment was bitter in the other girl's throat. ''It was my wedding ring when I was still human.''

Jasper went quiet after that, concentrating back on the rocking chair part. (Y/N)'s eyes followed his movement; she tucked the neckless back into the collar of her dress. Outside, the sun was already setting, and from the windows, the woman could see the timid shine of the slow rising of the moon in the sky.

She suddenly felt the nip of boredom in the back of her chest. Like she was dragging the world around with her. It made her realize just how cruelly their house missed books, games, and music. If only she'd asked Esther to send her the harp she'd left in her care. But it was too late now. Her friend and Thade were travelling the world in search of his past. The man had felt the need to reconnect with his civilization now that the Second World War had ended.

Maybe they could buy a radio once they'd gone to town. But, then, the music would fill the house at every hour of the day. (Y/N) missed the time when giggles would fill the homes she was in. She missed her son.

Sons.

Cocking her head slightly to the side, her hands resting on the table. The woman's eyes slowly clouded; Jasper recognized the look for when he'd meet her dazing out outside the house. He decided not to push his questioning further and worked silently on the rocking chair again. Alice came out of the room, her gaze unfocused but lucid enough to walk. When she didn't have full-blown visions, she would sometimes lose herself in the pathways of many shifting decisions of the people around her.

In the silence, (Y/N) isn't aware that she started humming. Her finger played with the locket she'd tucked in her collar. It was a habit she couldn't seem to lose now. She hums the song Alice heard her sing to Esther years ago, and the girl can't help but sigh.

Jasper just smiled.

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