#I think I just word vomited for like a hour and a half

[zosonils]

i NEED to know what the hobbyist chao husbandry drama scene is like so badly. next sonic game please let me scroll through all 18,000 pages of a forum thread where someone innocently asks for feedback on their setup for the three year old dark-swim they're adopting this weekend and unwittingly releases a decade's worth of arguments over the ideal chao height to water depth radio and how ethical it is to train a dark chao to sleep on a diurnal schedule and if this one specific water purification product retailer is the most trustworthy in the business or personally set beloved forum member St8ionSqr's house on fire and whether offering racing chao up for adoption once they're past their physical prime for their first life cycle is a sweet win-win way to get well-trained chao who've earned their rest into loving homes or mass abandonment from money-hungry racers too impatient to just wait for reincarnation contributing to shelter overflow. i need to have unskippable dialogue with cream where she rants for 7+ minutes about how she can't BELIEVE what she saw when she was volunteering at the chao kindergarten last week of COURSE your chao is struggling to learn to fly JANET because you bought it at a premium from some NO DOUBT UNLICENSED breeder who's been so intensely concentrating the fly type for like 8 generations that now the chao are hatching with wings heavier than their bodies but oh yes i'm SURE once it grows up and evolves PRESUMABLY INTO A FLY TYPE THUS COMPOUNDING THE ISSUE it'll look VERY fancy and won't you look so much BETTER than all those peasants at the public chao garden with all their utterly genetically unremarkable chao right JANET like surely this is going on somewhere in sonic land right. surely while sonic is out teabagging the remains of the latest death egg there's some pet hygiene company getting absolutely ripped to shreds for latching onto a singular research paper that found a very slightly higher rate of skin-based allergies in monotone chao than in twotones from their modestly sized sample group as an excuse to peddle 'monotone-friendly' chao shampoo for double the price only for some dude with a basement chemistry set and twin shiny monotone yellow chao who he loves more than life itself to discover that the only difference in the supposed 'premium' product is just a dye that tints it green and, ironically, happens to be a fairly common minor allergen for chao

[rafecameronssl4t]

the jarah pregnancy made me so happy, so i was thinking about thornton!reader finding out an unexpected pregnancy

Sweet Nineteen || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

A/n: I was thinking the same thing 🤯

Warnings: vomiting, mention of drugs, r is pregnant at 19

Word count: 1,960

MASTERLIST (rafe x Thornton!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The bile rises, thick and sour, up your throat, and you throw off the sheets in a panic, bolting to the bathroom. You barely reach the toilet before you’re heaving, clutching the rim as the wave of nausea overwhelms you. It takes a moment before you feel Rafe’s presence at your side.

Gently, he gathers your hair, holding it in a makeshift ponytail as he kneels down beside you. His hand is warm and steady on your back, rubbing small, comforting circles. “Fuck,” you mutter in a weak voice, feeling the bile burn again as you throw up once more. Rafe doesn’t flinch, just keeps rubbing your back, his touch grounding you.

“You okay?” he asks softly as you finally catch your breath, reaching out to flush the toilet. He sounds genuinely concerned. “I thought you don’t get boat sickness.” “Yeah, I don’t,” you mumble, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before reaching for your toothbrush.

The cool water on your teeth and gums is a relief, and you close your eyes briefly, trying to shake off the dizziness. “Probably something bad I ate yesterday,” you add, glancing up in the mirror to meet his gaze. He’s watching you, his brow furrowed as he nods slowly, a hint of worry still lingering in his expression.

~

“I can’t believe you’re gonna be nineteen in like…” Sarah pauses, glancing down as she counts on her fingers, her grin widening. “Ten hours,” she chuckles, nudging you playfully. You smile, popping a grape into your mouth. “I know, crazy, right?” you say, shaking your head. It feels surreal, like the year passed in a flash.

Before you can say anything else, you hear the sound of footsteps behind you. Turning, you spot Rafe and Topper strolling onto the sun deck, looking relaxed, almost too relaxed. But then the sharp scent of weed hits you, making you wrinkle your nose. You sit up from the sun bed, eyeing Topper with a grimace as you spot the joint hanging from his mouth.

“Are you smoking weed right now?” you ask, unable to hide the irritation in your voice. Topper raises an eyebrow, the joint dangling as he gives you a smirk. “Yeah?” he replies nonchalantly, taking a slow, lazy drag, as if daring you to say more. Rolling your eyes, you wave a hand in front of your face, trying to clear the air. “Well, go smoke it somewhere else,” you mutter. “The smell’s making me sick.”

Topper holds your gaze, his expression shifting to mild confusion mixed with amusement. “What? Never bothered you before, sis,” he says, exhaling another plume of smoke, clearly finding this reaction from you entertaining. “Seriously, get the fuck out of here,” you groan, pressing the back of your hand against your mouth as a wave of nausea rolls over you. “I feel like I’m gonna vomit.”

Topper’s smirk falters as he studies you, genuinely taken aback by your reaction. He glances at Rafe, clearly puzzled, as if to confirm whether this is real or just a joke. Rafe watches you, his eyes narrowing slightly, before he turns to Topper. “Just listen to her,” Rafe mutters, giving Topper a nod of silent insistence. With a sigh, Topper raises his hands in surrender, then stubs out the joint against the railing.

“Fine, fine. You didn’t have to ruin the fun,” he says, tossing the remnants aside. With one last look—half-amused, half-apologetic—Topper ambles off, leaving you Rafe and Sarah in a moment of silence. You exhale slowly, the nausea finally beginning to subside as the smell dissipates, while Rafe lingers, his gaze still fixed on you, as if silently checking to make sure you’re alright.

Did you take any medicine?” Rafe’s voice breaks the comfortable silence between you and Sarah as he strolls over, his expression softened with concern. He sits down beside you on the sunbed, his hand instinctively reaching for your thigh, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.“Yeah,” you reply, offering him a small smile. Sarah perks up at the exchange, her brows knitting together in curiosity.

“For what? Are you sick?” she asks, tilting her head with genuine worry. You shake your head, hoping to ease her concern. “I threw up this morning. I think I just ate something bad,” you explain, shrugging as if it’s no big deal. Sarah’s expression shifts to one of cautious relief as she slowly nods, her eyes lingering on you for a moment.

~

You glance at your watch: five minutes until midnight. The bathroom is quiet and dimly lit, but inside, your mind races as you stare down at the test, barely able to breathe. With trembling fingers, you turn it over, bracing yourself—and your heart stops. Two clear lines. Positive. Pregnant.

The air feels thick, each breath you take heavy with the weight of this sudden, life-changing truth. Pregnant at nineteen. You feel a tear slip down your cheek as the reality of it hits: the uncertainty, the responsibility, and the tiny spark of awe that stirs in your chest at the thought of the life growing within you. Who would’ve thought?

Just as you’re caught in the storm of emotions, you hear Rafe’s voice calling out to you from down the hall, his tone carefree and excited. “Babe, where are you?” Your heart skips, and with a surge of panic, you quickly hide the test in the drawer, wiping away the tears from your face. You glance in the mirror, dabbing beneath your eyes to make sure there’s no trace of the overwhelming emotion that just ran through you.

“Here!” you call out, doing your best to sound cheerful as you step out of the bathroom, forcing a smile onto your face. You walk toward Rafe, wrapping your arms around his neck as he gives you that familiar, comforting smile, his hands settling on your waist. “There you are,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He glances down at his watch, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

“C’mon, three minutes until midnight,” he says, a spark in his voice as he takes your hand and starts leading you down the hallway. As he pulls you along toward the top deck, you can’t help but glance back at the bathroom door, where the test lies tucked away, as if leaving behind the secret that’s only just beginning to dawn on you.

The cool night air brushes over you as you step onto the deck, where Sarah and Topper are waiting, chatting and laughing under the glow of fairy lights strung around the railings. The ocean spreads out beneath you, dark and endless, stars reflecting off the gentle waves. You try to take it all in, hoping the beauty of the scene will settle the nerves still buzzing under your skin.

“What’s the time now—” you begin, but before you can finish, the sky bursts into a riot of color as the first firework explodes overhead. You gasp, your hand flying to your mouth in surprise as another spark ignites, followed by another, each one brighter than the last, painting the sky in shades of red, blue, and gold.

Your eyes widen as the fireworks continue to light up the night, each one booming and shimmering against the dark sky. The sight is breathtaking, yet you feel tears pricking your eyes again, overwhelmed by the moment, by the beauty of it all, and by the tiny life that only you know about.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Rafe whispers close to your ear, his arms slipping around you from behind as he rests his chin on your shoulder. His warmth seeps into you, grounding you as you lean back against him, watching the fireworks burst above you. You turn in his arms, unable to stop the tears that slip down your cheeks, your emotions too strong to hide. Rafe’s face softens, his thumb brushing against your cheek to catch a tear.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice low and filled with concern as his hands gently cradle your face. You hold him close, gathering the courage to tell him what you’ve only just discovered. Voice barely above a whisper, you lean in close, “I’m pregnant.” The fireworks continue to crackle overhead, and your words are nearly lost in the noise. Rafe pulls back, searching your face with a confused look. “What?”

A nervous laugh escapes you, and this time, you say it louder, “I’m pregnant, Rafe!” His face shifts, eyes widening as the realisation dawns on him. “You’re pregnant?” he repeats, his voice filled with awe, and you nod, unable to hold back the smile spreading across your face. “Oh my god,” he breathes, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he pulls you into a deep, joyful kiss, his hands cradling your face like he’s afraid to let go.

When he pulls back, he’s grinning, looking at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time. “We’re going to have a baby,” he says softly, almost as if he’s speaking to himself, still in shock but brimming with happiness. “What’s going on?” Sarah’s voice cuts through, and you both turn to see her and Topper walking over, eyes filled with curiosity.

You beam at them, feeling a rush of excitement at sharing the news. “I’m pregnant!” you announce, your voice trembling with joy. Sarah’s jaw drops, her hand covering her mouth as she lets out a squeal of excitement, immediately pulling you into a tight hug. “Oh my god, y/n, are you serious?! This is amazing!” she cries, nearly bouncing with joy as she squeezes you.

Topper’s eyes go wide, his gaze shifting between you and Rafe with a grin spreading across his face. “Holy shit, dude! You’re gonna be a dad!” He claps Rafe on the back with enthusiasm, pulling him into a quick, celebratory hug as they both break into laughter. Rafe chuckles, patting Topper’s shoulder, a lightness in his expression that you rarely see.

“And you’re gonna be an uncle,” he replies, unable to hide the pride and excitement in his voice. Topper’s grin softens a little as he turns to you, arms wide open. “Congrats, sis,” he says warmly, pulling you into a tight hug. His embrace is solid and reassuring, swaying you back and forth as you both share a laugh. “Mom’s gonna be over the moon,” he says, chuckling as he releases you.

You smile, but there’s a flicker of hesitation in your eyes. “You really think so?” A part of you can’t help but worry about how your parents will react to the news, especially given that you’re only nineteen. Their expectations have always been high, and this wasn’t exactly in their plans for you.

“Oh, trust me, I know so.” Topper’s eyes twinkle with a mix of reassurance and amusement. “She might put on a big act and pretend to be shocked, but deep down, she’s been waiting for this. She’s dreamed of being a grandma for years.” He gives your arm a gentle squeeze, his playful grin easing your nerves a little.

As you pull away from Topper, Rafe’s arm wraps around your waist, drawing you close to his side. He looks down at you, his expression softening, and leans in to press a tender kiss to your forehead. “I can’t believe we’re going to be parents,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of wonder, as if he’s still trying to wrap his mind around it.

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through you as you snuggle into him, resting your head against his chest. “Me neither,” you reply softly, your voice filled with quiet happiness. “But I’m glad it’s with you.” Rafe’s arm tightens around you, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your back as the reality of it all settles between you.

[lovelybucky1]

Ok! I don't know if you can write about a wolverine who is obsessed with an older student at mansion x, what's the surprise? That she has a daddy kink with him because he has daddy issues-.

Professor!logan x student!fem!reader w daddy kink pleaaaaseee (Obviously reader is of legal age but there is Age gap between she and logan, and of course, smut!)

Cliché (Logan Howlett x Reader)

Logan isn’t a teacher by any means. He doesn’t have a lot of patience and prefers just to do rather than show people how it’s done. Xavier didn’t really give him a choice to be a teacher or not. He led Logan into a classroom full of students one day and told him to have at it. Logan wasn’t pleased with Charles, but he managed to improvise well enough. He’s been teaching since then, and while it is more bearable than he thought it would be, he still isn’t a fan. That is, until you showed up in class.

You caught his eye immediately. He could justify it to himself more if you were playing the part of the slutty student wearing short skirts and dropping your pencil so that you could give him a flash of your tits when you bent down. But you weren’t doing any of that. You were just a normal student, taking notes, listening intently, and raising your hand when you knew the answer. You weren’t trying to tempt him into anything, and Logan was a creep for wishing that you were. 

He pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind and for the most part, he was successful. He was able to compartmentalize well enough to be an effective teacher and not sport a half-chub in the middle of every class. He thought he had finally gotten over his stupid crush that he was way too old to be having, but then you had asked him for extra help.

Like the beginning of every student-teacher porno, you came to his “office hours”, which really meant you knocked on his bedroom door late one night. You were having trouble understanding whatever dull topic Logan was teaching that week, which was unusual for you because you study frequently. You asked him to explain and he did, walking you through it to the best of his ability. Logan was suspicious because the topic wasn’t difficult to understand, and you’re a smart girl. 

After fifteen minutes of you nodding along to his explanation and occasionally biting your lip, Logan called you out. 

“You don’t really need help understanding this, do you?”

You looked up at him, wide-eyed like you were just caught with your hand in the cookie jar.

“Yes I do,” you respond hurriedly. “I told you, I was a little confused by all of the information.”

Logan shook his head. “We’ve gone over topics much more difficult than this and you had no problem. Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?”

Logan couldn’t help but wonder if his inappropriate fantasies were coming true. It had all the cliches: office hours, a smart girl playing dumb, a half-assed excuse to be close to him. He can hear your heart beating quickly, and when he sniffs the air, he can smell a musky tang of arousal.

He turns to face you, and suddenly you’re unable to meet his eyes. You’re looking down at where you’re fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Nervous, embarrassed. Gently, he places his hand under your chin and tilts your head up. You timidly look at him, eyes searching his for any signs of anger.

“What’re you doin’ here, dollface?” he asks.

He’s hoping, praying, that you don’t say what he so badly wants you to say. 

“I just… wanted to see you,” you respond. You know it makes you sound crazy, but you can’t think of any other explanation that isn’t entirely inappropriate. He doesn’t say anything, but you feel compelled to word-vomit. “I wanted your attention and this was the only way I knew how to get it and I’m so sorry, I know this is so inappropriate. Please just forget about this and I’ll drop your class-”

Logan shushes you. “You wanted my attention?” he asks. You nod hesitantly. “What for?”

You shrug, but Logan doesn’t take that for an answer. “I’m attracted to you.” 

You wince as you rip off the band-aid, and you’re so scared to see your professor’s reaction. He should yell at you, call you all sorts of names for your disgusting fantasies, kick you out of the room and have you expelled. But he doesn’t.

“That right?” Logan asks with a smirk. “You’re all worried just ‘cause you have a little crush?” Maybe it’s mean to tease you, especially when you’re looking at him like you’re about to cry, but he can’t help it. “You know I’m too old for you.”

You shake your head. “You’re not too old for me.”

Logan hums. “Then you’re too young for me.”

“I’m an adult,” you pout. “I’m not too young.”

“Sweetheart,” he sighs. “I’m your teacher. I’m old enough to be your father.” Logan takes note of how your eyes sparkle at that. “You like me because I’m old enough to be your father.”

You look away shyly, and that gives Logan all the confirmation he needs. 

“Y’know, ever since I met you, I’ve been trying not to think about how much I want to bend you over one of those desks. It made me feel so fuckin’ guilty for thinking about you like that, but this whole time, you’ve been sittin’ in my class, thinking about me being your daddy.”

Your eyes widen at his words. When you devised this little plan and walked in here, you thought you would chicken out, much less have it lead anywhere. 

“I have been thinking about that,” you say.

“I’d be real sweet to ya, baby. Give you everything you’ve been wanting.”

The two of you are crossing so many lines, but neither of you seem to care anymore. He’s wanted you for weeks and as morally upstanding as he tries to be, he is still just a man.

“I want it,” you say, voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s hands are on your hips, grabbing at your skin possessively as he smashes his lips against yours. He dominates the kiss, but you don’t mind the pinch of your lips between his teeth. It’s messy and wet and everything you’ve been dreaming of while you watch him in class. 

Your back hits the door and Logan keeps you pinned against the surface. You’re helpless to do anything but take what he gives you; his large body covering you entirely. His hands find their way under your ass and he tells you to jump. He holds you up with ease as you wrap your legs around his waist. He grinds against you, your little scrap of lace panties rubbing the bulge in his jeans. He’s thankful that you decided to wear a dress because the idea of fumbling with more than one pair of pants right now pisses him off. 

He manages to get his pants undone and pushed low enough to free his cock. Your panties get pulled to the side and his fingers slot themselves inside of you to work you open. Your face is buried in Logan’s neck, where you muffle all of your whines and moans. You’re certain that anyone out in the hall would be able to hear you, but you can’t bring yourself to care. If anything, Logan would be the one to get in trouble for sleeping with a student. You’d just be an innocent victim.

“Daddy,” you moan when he rubs that spot deep inside of you. 

“Shh, baby, Daddy’s got you,” he coos.

He continues to open you up on his fingers until he deems you loose enough to take him. When he pulls out his fingers, he wipes them on his thigh before grabbing his cock and positioning it at your entrance. He pushes in slowly, allowing you to adjust to the stretch.

You both groan simultaneously as he bottoms out. You’ve never felt so full in your life, and your pussy feels like heaven around his aching cock. You’ve both been craving this taboo relationship for so long and now that it’s finally real, it’s making your head spin.

“So fuckin’ tight,” Logan growls against your neck as he begins to rut into you.

His gruff voice, casual display of strength, and the feeling of him inside you work together to light your body on fire. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you attempt to stifle your moans. 

“Logan,” you gasp after a particularly hard thrust.

“Keep sayin’ my name like that and this won’t last much longer,” he tells you.

The thought that you doing something so simple as moaning his name could bring him to the edge boggles your mind. The Wolverine coming undone for some girl, a student, no less. You find yourself on a bit of a power trip, knowing what you’re doing to him. It’s only fair because he’s been torturing you for weeks without even knowing it.

You reach down between your bodies to rub at your clit. It’s sensitive from neglect, but as soon as you make contact with it, that coil in your belly starts to tighten. Hot waves of pleasure roll over your body as Logan drives his cock into you. Each bump of your g-spot causes a moan to escape from your mouth and he responds with groans of his own. 

“Logan, Logan,” you pant. “Daddy! I’m close, I’m gonna cum.”

Logan’s teeth find your neck. He bites at the skin under your ear and in the back of your mind, you wonder if he’ll leave a mark.

“Cum for me, princess. Gush all over my dick,” he mumbles against your skin.

You do exactly that. A few moments later, you’re clenching around his length as you rub tight circles over your clit. A moan rips from your throat as your orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks- or a ton of feathers, they weigh the same.

Logan staves off his orgasm long enough for you to ride out yours. Once you come down, he pulls out of you and jerks himself off to completion. Hot, thick ropes of cum paint your stomach and you watch in awe as the muscles in his arm move with the action.

You both stand there, your back against the door, as you catch your breath. You look up at him with slightly glazed eyes; your mind hazy with the remnants of your pleasure.

“Thank you,” you breathe out.

“Nothin’ to thank me for, dollface,” he says.

Logan bends down to scoop you into his arms. He walks you the few feet over to his bed and lays you down gently before grabbing some tissues to clean you off. You tell him you could’ve walked, but he shushes you and replies “Let me take care of you.”

You do, and it feels like the closest to heaven you’ve ever been. The man of your dreams just fucked you stupid and is now coddling you in his bed. What could be better than this?

Logan rids himself of the rest of his clothes and joins you on the bed. He slings an arm over your waist and pulls your back flush to his chest so he can spoon you. He tucks your shoulder under his chin and presses a kiss to your neck, close to the spot he sunk his teeth into earlier. 

“Does this mean I get extra credit, professor?” you ask, giggling.

“Don’t push your luck, kid. You still gotta do your homework.”

[reddtulips]

something something ghoap staying at johnny’s family farm that’s less than two hours away from glasgow.

they barely reach the damn place because simon insists on driving and takes a wrong exit on the highway and johnny has to piss a hundred times during the drive.

the air is crisp and cold and frosts the tips of their noses and simon forces indifference when johnny’s fingers brush simon’s to hold the duffel bag so he can close the trunk of the car.

johnny knocks on the front door and his mother rips it open, hugging his son and without a second to think, hugs simon as well and ushers them inside.

johnny’s father is a simple man and gives simon a firm handshake and a pat on his back and shows him the dining room, a feast set on the table and every salad under the sun overflowing in hand painted bowls that johnny’s mother made when she did pottery ten years ago.

johnny’s sisters are there, his niece and nephews as well, all children and simon sweats thinking how in the hell he is supposed to talk to them. are the boys at the appropriate age to know about guns and knives? or do they look at encyclopedias of greek mythology and dinosaurs? does the niece like barbie and dress up? or is she one of those girls that like to collect bugs and draw hopscotch on the pavement with colorful chalk and wipe the excess from her fingers onto her pants?

they watch him with eager eyes and giggles smothered behind tiny hands, and watch in awe when he lifts his balaclava to expose his mouth so he can eat.

johnny does the talking at the table and simon can’t understand a fucking word he’s saying because he’s gone full scottish with his family, only hums and nods occasionally. he wolfs down every piece of food, the human trashcan that he is (and because he doesn’t remember the last time he had a home-cooked meal), and nearly combusts for a second time that day as johnny’s mam places a plate with a thick slice of apple pie in front of him, vanilla ice cream melting over it and puts a hand on his shoulder, “johnny told me ye have a sweet tooth, so i made it especially for ye.”

simon who does silent breathing exercises so he doesn’t cry because he misses this so fucking much. to sit down with a family and enjoy a meal together with loved ones and not fight, nor scream nor yell nor cry nor throw food nor break plates and it’s just laughter upon laughter upon claps on the shoulders and clutching at arms and pulling each other into side hugs and light jabs that mean nothing and don’t break into full blown fights and simon thinks he’s going to vomit.

simon who gets to see johnny’s childhood bedroom. it’s decorated in superhero posters and hanging medals and trophies from gymnastics and competitive shooting competitions. johnny turns sheepish when simon points them out, teases him and likes and fears the swirl of warmth in his chest when johnny’s ears and neck turn red. he’s told “still a better shot than you,” and if johnny were anyone else, he’s be given toilet cleaning duties for the next three months.

simon who wants to pull out and empty every drawer, check every nook and cranny and learn and suck in every single piece of information and story there is about johnny and what — there’s pictures of you as a kid? with a mohawk? fuck off, soap, lemme see.

johnny opens the left door of his wardrobe and it’s covered in baby pictures of him and his family and simon’s chest tightens but he doesn’t break his gaze. Lo and behold, Johnny points out a picture on top and holy shit, it’s him holding a fat, orange cat the size of half his body and he’s sporting a long mohawk. His cheeks are stained with tears but there’s a forced grin on his face and blood on his chin. johnny explains it was his 7th birthday, he fell off a swing, hit his chin and his mam still wanted a photo. the cat’s named ‘fergus’ and he’s still alive and has lost most of the weight. he explains more photos but simon’s eyes keep coming back to the first one and he just wants to lean down and leave a gentle kiss on the scar covering johnny’s chin.

the kids don’t leave simon alone, as much as uncle johnny protests and tells them to get tae and let ‘em rest, he’s been drivin’ all mornin’ but watches them from the kitchen with a soft smile as simon walks around with the kids hanging and clutching at his strong arms like they’re monkeys and simon can’t get enough of their giggles and ooh’s and ahh’s when he tells them heroic and child-friendly war stories about their uncle. he also tells them that he sucks ass at taking orders and sharing his MREs and that they should listen to their parents and respect their elders and share with each other. johnny smothers a grin behind his hand as simon uses his lieutenant’s voice when speaking to the kids about these things.

johnny steals simon away then, “gotta show ‘em the horses”, and simon keeps his distance and doesn’t dare get up on one of them. the cockiest, “scared, Lt.?” with a shit-eating grin from johnny makes him grab the reigns and climb on. johnny leads the horse down the field and they fall into a comfortable silence. simon can’t get enough of the peace and quiet and chirping of birds and gentle yet chilly breeze on his hands and johnny is suddenly coming to a halt.

simon looks down at his sergeant, and his cheeks are flushed red and there’s determination and well-masked hesitation in his blue eyes and before simon knows it, he’s being pulled down by the sleeve of his jacket and johnny is cupping the sides of his face and pressing a gentle kiss over the material of simon’s mask. it’s innocent, quick, almost like it doesn’t even happen and isn’t registered. but their gazes meet when they part and it’s over for both of them because simon is fervently pushing his mask up and cupping johnny’s cheeks and they’re both leaning forward again and pressing kiss upon kiss upon kiss on each other’s lips and simon finally thinks,

i’ve found it. i’ve found home.

[s-4pphics]

the party. II (sevika + vi + abby)

SYNOPSIS: reddit: a place for thought-dumping and being horny WORD COUNT: 6.5K WARNINGS: sevika, vi, and abby play rugby(kinda minor plot tbh), oc is a crazy redditor and wears skirts, STALKING, 90% SMUT MDNI(dubcon + VOYEURISM!! + degradation + munching + mult orgasms + dirty talk + scissoring + fingering) recreational drug use/drinking, some cringe A/N: fuck it everybody finna be in this.... heyyyy guys another collab w lottie bc duh ART BY LOTTIE LOT I LOVE U DEAR @trackinglessons … also callback to scumbag!abby missing her bad a lil taglist :) @marvelwomenarehot0 @falrydyke @alittlextrahoney @professionalgirlk1ss4r

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r/AskReddit

u/artkiller       3mi

are college parties always this wild??

[f21] omg hey guys i’ve been MIA… 

ngl i’ve been getting my shit rocked for the past 12 hours i see why ppl go on my strange addiction as therapy… i need to be publically humiliated so i can stop thinking ab sex. thats real conversion therapy…. anywho im outside the frat rn and uh it look lit n whatever but some dude jumped outta window from the 3rd floor n he might be dead idk i don’t have my glasses on lol he’s just laying there fr unbreathing …. he’s cute tho #FAKEGAY the line to frats r so long im literally freezing n im not near the entrance pneumonia incoming 

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r/AskReddit

u/artkiller       14mi

finally inside…. i feel like im sneaking out for the first time😭😭 why do i feel so guilty like wtf is this a byproduct of being loved conditionally by family or sum idk whatever WE TURNING UPPPP 

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r/AskReddit

u/artkiller       3mi

my girl walkedd up behind m e 2 kiss my che eeek and my other gi dl spanked me in front of every1…… i need to be spay

Quite familiar, squeezing hands land on your hips and your phone hits the sticky fucking floor and some bitch with stiletto pumps steps on your gahtdamn phone who the fuck wears —

“Where ya been?” The scent of Crown Royal nearly sends you into a frenzy — alfuckingmost, but your phone screen is still glowing bright and orange with your half-assed cry for help Vi is right fucking behind you

“Uhhh… oh y’know, explorin’, whatevs.” You try to kick your phone closer, but you just end up slipping on whatever substance dirties the floors. Your girlfriend catches you, though, as always — hollers, okay? Need some water? 

And instantly, you’re horny. You needa nut. You politely decline the drink. 

“Come smoke with us...” She proposes. 

The bodies that surround you seem to move in slow-mo. Us who? 90% of the soccer, football, and swimming teams are here getting gyrated on but, oh, wait… 

Sevika’s not in here… Or is Don Julio obscuring your vision? Is Don Julio a real person? A commander of the Crusades; A possible descendant of Julius Caesar. Hm…

Vi’s still waiting on your response. You use her expectancy as an excuse to bend over and grab your phone and you’re instantly disgusted. Your case clings to your fingers like glue. Instead of vomiting up all the poisonous liquids in your system, you accept it as a sign from the universe. Stop putting your fucking phone down! You clench your device in your hands. Shoulda brought a fucking purse. 

“YEAH!” You turn to scream to Vi… right when the fake ass DJ decides to skip to the next song. A large number of people glance at you in confusion. At least no one told you to shut the fuck up! 

Vi’s not embarrassed in the slightest. She laughs, in fact. She’s so endeared by you. Times like this are when you start feeling a little guilty for all the bullshit you’ve done. Just a smidge though. Still gotta get your rocks off! 

“Yeah?” She cheeses against your shoulder. 

“Yup!” 

… What are you agreeing to, again? Vi’s a love witch: she forces your train of thought into obscurity with her beauty. Don Julio should not be tampered with any longer! Electricity travels up your arm when her hand circles around yours to guide you out and onto the patio, through the glass door and yeah, they’re blazing out here. It’s loud as fuck. 

“SEV!” 

You follow the sonic of Vi’s shout and your legs forget their function when you see your location. 

Oh fuck. Wow. Okay fuck fuck holy fucking shit! 

Very large tall big bulky muscular women overtake your view. The whole fucking rugby team is out here puff-puff-passing; Nothing but tatted arms and girthy biceps made for hunting teeth and legs legs legs everywhere. Did Don Julio slice your throat in the name of justice or whatever the fuck your high school history teacher tried to lie to you about and sent you to heaven? Dyke heaven? 

28 eyes lock onto your cowering form, directly behind an unsuspecting Vi who waves, very lighthearted, very demure: meanwhile, war rages within you. The war of hormones and fertility and whore-ism—

“Hiiiiii—“

Vi’s so cute with her pink cheeks and slowly fading black streaked hair. Her pink is coming through, for sure! You should ask her if it’s natural. Seems to be so, truly, look at her roots! Barely even fried… 

Anything to distract you from the questioning looks being thrown your way from very attractive women. All 14 of them await your introduction and you’re really wishing Don Julio never spared your soul— 

“Who’s that?” 

A girl with freckles — lazily kicked back with a heavily tatted arm and beanie points at you, unsmiling. No one’s smiling, actually. You shrivel up and die right there. You’re only a shell now. Soulless. Your spirit’s flying around in search of a new muscular thigh to ride on. You’re forced to hold in a dreamy sigh at the memory: on your bed, both your thighs locked around Sevika’s one while Vi guided your hips from behind. 

“Don’t be rude! This is—“

Your eyes find Sevika’s while Vi fills in for you. Tinted red and trapped in delirium, but still Sev; her pupils scale all the way down your bare legs. Why does she look so good right now? Fuck your life! 

There’s a big ass bong in her heavily ringed hands. What’s up with her and compression shirts? It’s December for fucks sake! Is she not cold? You sure hope not because she looks mighty fucking good holy fuck— 

Find a distraction so you don’t hyperfixate on the invitation she’s so clearly throwing your way! Her lap is calling again, oh God, find something else quick quick quick! 

“—And this is Abby!” 

Oh. 

Distraction detected. Abby… Abigail Anderson! A complete and utter virginity-obsessed train wreck, but a hot one! Campus raves about her like they’re paid to do so; Everyone still gossips about what she did to that soccer player a few semesters back: took her virginity and ghosted her… and the streak continued until one of her bed posts smashed that same soccer player for revenge. Messy, messy. Sick work on everyone’s part. You love it!

Abby woulda really liked you if she’d got to you sooner. Vi and Sev touched you first. You’re probably all used up in her eyes. She’s gross for thinking like that. 

… Is it bad to say you’re kinda digging that? Just a tad! She looks so sweet and cozy where she sits on the lounge chair in a damn pink cashmere sweater! Who wears sweaters to a fucking rager! 

Abby stares at your legs with the same intensity as Sevika, “Nice to meet yo—“

“I’M A LESBIAN!” You shout. 

And the crowd goes silent. Bullet to the brain. Fuck Don Juilio! Sevika smiles, though. Abby laughs a little. “We all are, baby! Welcome to the winning team!” 

“HOOPLAH!” You exclaim, much louder this time. 

���… YEAH!” “WOO?” A few of their teammates whom you need so desperately attempt to support. Confused laughter explodes all around, and for the first time in your life, it’s not at you, but with you… you think! Just like that, their entire team relaxes in your presence… Don’t they? 

You love lesbianism! 

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller       22s

um… hey yall. one of my huzz keeps looking at me like she wants to get me pregnant but im sitting next to her friend… idk i think they’re friends they keep giving each other dirty looks… my hu keeps glaring at her whenever she touches or talks to me directly…. or am i tripping idk chile i might be contact high. maybe it’s bc she’s blonde idk i think ppl hate blondes irl 

anyway my sunshine is so cute when she’s drunk she’s like a big teddy bear…. i think. not gonna talk her punching some guy in the face earlier men deserve it. #MISANDRY

—

Vi’s eyes are on Sevika, but Sevika’s eyes are on Abby who has gotten very close to you on that couch, and her gaze is not inviting. 

No one would describe Sev as possessive. She’s the complete opposite; very free-spirited, go-with-the-wind-of-her-vape kinda energy. Hooking up with people that don’t dangle off her hip is one of her favorite pass-times. She’s okay with you being around, tagging along due to her phone never being blown with messages asking if she’s coming to pick you up for the party, or demanding to see her again, or begging for flowers, and she was thankful. You showed up to the party alone, got drunk alone, danced alone until both her and Vi searched to ensure you made it safely. You’re charming… in a weird way. 

Sevika finds it alarming how comfortable she’s become around you. She’ll admit it’s outta character — she’s not a people person, only clinging to those who’ve read and understood her deeply, and even then, it took ages to open up. She can’t help it, your eccentricity hoards space by force — you have your own little nerdy way of life but she likes that. Thinks it’s hot how little you care about being perceived… In some cases. There are moments where she can’t pinpoint where your mind wanders, and one of them is right fucking now. 

You’re pretty chill for the most part, but she knows her teammate isn’t, so why the fuck are the two so damn close? 

Abby’s naturally overbearing — your polar opposite, but you’re snuggled up like two peas in a pod: she’s all in your space, complimenting you, caressing your shoulder with care and ease because you’re allowing her to. Sevika’s track record isn’t the best — terrible, she’ll admit, but Abby’s could override the entire team’s history combined. She’s manipulative like that; lures people in with the scent of cherry blossoms and a smile that shines like crystals before devouring, staining her fangs in their blood. 

The two of them drifted apart some time ago, but it seems they’re the only ones aware of their covert friction. They challenge each other in silence on the field, in front of their team, even in front of Violet; Coach pinned it as petty jealousy of one another initially, but they’d both rather be shot dead than admit that. 

The scene plays out in front of a spectating but frazzled Vi. She adores both of her friends and loathes their disdain for each other, but when you put two domineering personalities together… this is what you get, she supposes. Their falling out was never grasped by her; one second they’re fine, the next they’re not, like an old, married couple. Sevika and Abby are usually able to keep their secret animosity under wraps so their coach refrains from questioning, but Coach isn’t here. Just bud and liquor and you. How could someone with so little understanding of human nature have this much control? She’s got no option but to respect it — what power you have. 

Abby’s eyes move in an instigating triangle; from you, to Vi, to disgustingly smug at Sevika, then back to you. What the hell is she playing at? Vi catches Sevika’s gaze for a blip, and Vi, with a silent plea, shakes her head no. 

Please don’t start. Please don’t just leave them be, she’s fine—

But her eyes shut in defeat when Sevika rises from her lone spot, jaw cinched tight when she approaches the two of you.  

“HEY-O, Amazonian lesbo!” You sing-song between chattering teeth and jumpy legs. Sevika can’t stop the smile that puffs her cheeks. Poor thing, you must be freezing. 

“Captain.” Abby greets with an arched brow and a tilt of her head while she pets the back of your neck. Incredibly mocking, and Sevika’s instantly annoyed. 

“‘Sup.” She greets short and stiff before redirecting back onto you, “Cold, babe?” 

“I’m freezing!” Sevika extends a hand, and you accept her warmth graciously, already being pulled from your seat, “Where the fucks the food!” 

“No food, hon. Vi has Ritz. Go eat.” 

“More like… Vi has the shitz!” You expel through wheezed laughter. Abby snorts from behind. 

“HEY WHAT THE FUCK NO I DON’T— “

You laugh all the way over to Vi, leaving Abby and Sevika to mentally strangle each other in silence. Abby kicks her feet on the small table in front of her, arms extended on the back of the couch. 

“She yours?” The blonde jerks her head in your direction, shoveling crackers down your throat while Vi rubs your back and observes them with caution. Abby sends her the toothiest grin. “Never seen you so in love. It's cute.” 

“I’m not fucking in love, I just met her,” Sevika attempts causality, shoulders raising in nonchalance with her hands shoved in her pockets. 

“So what’s the fuckin’ issue, babe?” 

Sevika hisses, “You as usual. Leave her the fuck alone.” 

“Or what." Abby smiles, and Sevika’s tempted to beat her face in, but she refrains; Vi will hate her til further notice. She throws her one last threatening glance before leaving Abby to obnoxiously laugh alone. When Sevika reaches you, she removes her jacket and wraps you in it. 

She bites down a laugh when you shove your nose in the sleeve and sniff. She guides you inside, Vi trailing close behind. 

—

“You seriously took a shit at a party?” You mock while you untie your shoes. 

“Shut the fuck up, no I didn’t,” Vi shuts — and locks oooolala — some random pedestrian’s bedroom door before leaning back against it with folded arms. The walk upstairs was hectic; if Sevika wasn’t there to lead you all the way up the stairs, you woulda been trampled. The later it gets, the wilder the party becomes and to be honest, it’s scary down there. Too many people throwing up and trying to crowd surf!

“Rate your first party, babe. You look like you had fun.” 

You fall onto the large, unmade mattress. You really hope cum doesn’t stick to your dress because don’t people fuck at parties? Or was that another movie myth? “I did… But I couldn’t find anywhere to pee and I think somebody was grilling hotdogs on the pool table—“

Your rambling diverts your attention, and Vi’s glad for it. Sevika’s seething from where she sits on the rolling chair across the room, pins Vi where she stands with scalding pupils. Sevika’s infuriating to deal with when she’s like this; faded and bothersome and jealous. 

“—Yeah, I dunno, very fun though, despite the death.” You conclude, and their staring contest breaks for a second. 

“THE WHAT—“ “HUH—“

“Yeah, crazy, I dunno if the cops were called or what but… yeah… OH, and I made a new friend!” 

Vi stiffens when Sevika grills lowly, “Oh, did ya? Who?” 

“Abby Anderson! Who'da thunk, right! She’s so nice and—“

“Abby, huh?” Sevika interrupts, eyes locked on an excited you. Vi silently begs you to shut up. 

You nod with enthusiasm, “Yeah! Y’know those rumors or whatever don’t do her justice, she’s funny as fuck! Not mean at all!”

Sevika scoffs silently. Pulls her vape out her sports bra. Hits it with an attitude unbeknownst to you. You’re really trying not to salivate. “That’s not your friend… you know that, right?” 

You glance at Vi in confusion, but she stares at the floor with a tapping foot, “What do you mean?” 

She finally sighs. Here we fucking go. 

“Exactly what I said.” 

“… m’really fucking confused, right now. Why don’t you think we’re friends —“

“Because you’re not.” Sevika finally snaps, and you wince. She watches you stammer with blades for eyes. Is she really mad at you right now? “She’s not your fucking friend. You’re getting too fuckin’ comfortable.”

“I dunno if we’re friends either, if we bein’ real,” She gestures between the two of you, and your entire rib cage shatters from the pulses in your chest. Water builds in your ducts. “We’re… what d’ya mean we’re not friends?” Your throat dries around tears that may or may not flow depending on her answer. 

She huffs, “I don’t think friends do what we do, baby. That’d be pretty fucked up, wouldn’t it?” 

She’s playing with you. She has to be! You’ve grown so close in the past… 14 hours! Your sheets are proof of your inseparable bond! Sevika likes you just as much as you love Vi! She does she does they both do!

“I— I’m…”

“You’re what.”

“Sev, ease up, c’mon…” Vi interjects quietly, stares in displeasure. Defends you like a knight, and your tears finally fall. From overstimulation, from sadness, from gratitude? You don’t know but it’s too much. You wipe your face and salt soaks your wrist. 

Sevika finally looks at you, still upset, “Stop crying.” 

“I’m not crying, my eyes are peeing.”

“Jesus fucking—

Vi huffs pitifully before ushering to stand in between your legs and thumb to at your wet cheeks, every glide from her rings freezing your tears in place. Every cell in your body is prepared to confess their devotion to her. 

“Relax,” She hushes before her tone drops to a whisper, “She’s being fucking stupid right now, ignore her.”

“Shut up.” 

Vi ignores Sevika and pecks your nose before both your cheeks, and your heart explodes into some warm, gooey substance. Feels like slime. Pink, glittery slime. She plants two extra smooches on your forehead and chin just to be safe, and your smile stretches for miles in result. A fat one gets smacked onto your lips before they rest by your ear. The sludge in your chest instantly burns red hot and thin. 

“Let’s cheer her up.” She whispers so lowly you can hardly hear. 

“What’re we gonna do?” You say louder and Sevika snickers at your failed secrecy. Maybe she’s not upset anymore? 

“Think you can take dick?” She purrs on your throat. 

“Like… like, whatchu mean? Take a dick where—“

“The fuck are y’all talkin’ about?” Sevika husks around one last puff before laying her robotic spliff on the desk. 

Vi’s head whips to face Sevika, “I’m settin’ us up. Say thank you, Violet.”

“Fuck you, Violet.” Sevika sasses.

“You might if ya fuckin’ behave.” 

“Can I watch?” You snort ecstatically. 

2 pairs of blank stares are thrown your way. You cough awkwardly, “Uh, so about this dick thing—“

Vi rubs the bridge of your tickling nose with a comforting finger, “I wanna see how much you can take if you’re down.”

“I can take a lot mentally, so I’m sure the same translates physically.” 

“Yeah, okay.” Sevika wisps snarkily. 

… That hurt a little. All you dream about is taking strap! What happened to following your dreams? How could they ever question your aspirations? You look past Vi, right at Sevika.

You want her to like you again! You like being liked! If this is what it takes, then so be it! You’re never drinking again after tonight, so you might as well use your courage for good! You don’t even know what you’re saying but Sevika’s just as surprised as Vi… Maybe it’s working? You can’t really tell. 

“You can obliterate my, uh… um… my vagina walls as an apology… or something like that. Sorry for talking to Abby. I promise I didn’t think anything of it. I—ACHOO— sorry… I’ll take your dick, Sev. In my throat if ya wanna, or whatever. Coochie…” You shrug in suggestion, “Uhh, yeah. Do you accept my apology?”

Silence sets in the small space before Sevika explodes into laughter. Vi laughs so hard she falls face first on the bed, and you do stare at her ass. She’s wearing cargos! You sneeze again. 

Sevika wipes her eye, “Can I get that in writing?” 

“Write in this pussy… and whatnot?” 

“Make sure to say whatnot when you cum on me.” 

“Oh wow, okay, sure.” Whatever gets her going!

“Take that dress off. ‘S got Abby germs.” 

You smile… and sneeze. 

—

Life is great. Wow. Bless up for sure. You and Vi’s cooters are inches apart. You’re naked, she’s naked, and Sevika isn’t but she’s watching very closely from where she kneels at the edge of the bed and your thighs tremble from anxiety!

Your girlfriend’s fucking perfect; so scarred and strong and tatted and built. When you shakily peeled her tank off, almost-healed teeth marks rested in between her tits and trailed all the way down to her hip bones. Ouchie… You wanna do that to her!

Sex in porn can only train so much before you’re forced to get out and smash on your own. You’re a pro watcher, but in real life… You’re slacking, let’s say that, but neither Sev or Vi have made you feel bad about your clumsiness. You haven’t had the privilege to touch either of them due to their determination to teach; experiment on you for their own research, study you, but you hope to change that soon. Vi touches you like you’re married, and you wanna do the same; you don’t think she’s in love with you yet but she also could be. Her hands would be nowhere near the porn industry. They’re too delicate, not demanding or crude or evil — you’ve seen some crazy shit on the web, good heavens. Forever traumatized. 

Her hands are tender where they stroke your chest. She can probably feel your heart beating in her palms. Right through your titty meat, how embarrassing. 

Then she starts giggling like an angel call the fucking ambulance before you go into cardiac. 

“You seeing ghosts?” She coos. 

“Nope, just God.”

“I didn’t even do anything.” 

“Don’t have to. I’m dead already. Thanks, uhh, internet.” 

“Oh yeah? You’re dead?” 

“… Yup.” Your voice drops a heavy amount when she takes your limp hands in hers. She extends them up her torso until they rest over her breasts, pressing your hands down so you can squeeze. Aneurysm incoming it’s hitting in your brain—

“How’s that feel, Casper?” 

“… Oh, gee wiz!” You squeal. 

Vi cackles with her head thrown back, “You’re so fucking cute, I’m gonna bite you!” You laugh with her even though you’re on the brink of death for the 40th time tonight — someone save you, you’re begging! 

“I like how your hands feel.” 

“I like how your tits feel.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yup.” 

“Yup,” She snickers and leans down so your titties smash together, “Gimme a kiss.” 

Your lips pucker playfully, and she pecks them. Licks them a little and you grin. “I can’t wait to stretch you out,” Her voice melts in your ears and you shudder beneath her, “Gotta make sure you’re ready.” 

“Be honest,” you whisper, embarrassed, “Is it gonna hurt?” 

“You want it to?” 

Your eyes meet the wall, “… No comment…”

Sevika chuckles while Vi comforts, “You’ll be fine, baby. We gotchu, okay? We’ll take it easy and go from there.” 

“A-Are we about to scissor?” 

“Uh huh, you excited?” 

“Yes,” you groan. 

Sevika caresses your sweaty forehead and your heart soars so high that it splatters on the ceiling like a gunshot wound, “You wet enough? Need some head first?” 

“M’okay… wanna feel…” 

“Then ask her nicely,” Sevika nods towards a smirking Vi. Her head tilts, awaiting, and you’re instantly reminded of Abby. She did that whenever she patiently waited for your response to her curiosity. Thank God Sevika can't read minds. 

“Violet…”

“Yes, baby?” 

“Can I… can you, uh…”

What would a pornstar say what would a pornstar say 

“Want me to fuck you til you cum?” She hums on your cheek and your heart thrashes in your chest. 

“Yeah… want that.”

“Then ask me.”

“Violet…”

You feel her smile, “Yes, baby?”

“Can you fuck me until I cum, please?” 

She plants a doting kiss on your cheek before separating from you to sit on the mattress with her knees pointed towards the ceiling, “Course I can. Sit up, babe.” 

You follow like a klutz but you’re here and her pussy glistens right there and so does yours. It takes you a second to replicate her guidance, but you’re eventually comfortable; the two of you resting back on your palms, your legs spread far enough for Vi to sit comfortably in between, one leg crossed over yours. Your cooters are nearly high-fiving! You can see her clit jump! 

“Gonna go slow, okay? Just do what I do,” She whispers, and you nod. You’re trying really hard not to stare at her pussy but it’s right fucking there in all its glory! It’s right there! Will she let you eat it one day? Will Sevika—

Your brain screams bloody murder when Vi closes the space between your nethers. 

—

Sevika prides herself in being patient. 

When something is foreign to her, she waits. Regardless of how dire or stressful a situation becomes, she’s often able to resolve it with stealth. She takes her time to plan and organize because it holds her hectic life together, and if that’s lost, so is she. It’s in her nature to be observant. It gets her answers, solves the riddles that wrack in her mind with ease all because she watched and waited. 

That attribute could be the reason she allows you to remain a mystery. You waltzed into her life by accident and now she’s stuck wondering what it is you want from her, her best friend; a relationship? A dirty secret? It hasn’t been that long. You're still a stranger, after all. Call it an obsession; she still has trouble wrapping her head around what allures her to you. It’s a desire she has trouble describing. You're really, really weird, but somehow that makes you one of the most attractive people she’s ever met in her life. 

You being on the brink of your second orgasm while her best friend practically rides you isn’t what entrances Sevika. There’s something about your character; you’re so blunt and comfortable and trusting. She would never allow herself to be as unguarded with a stranger as you are. There’s something something something that she’s determined to pull from you, prick from your brain. 

Why are you really here?

Please, baby, oh fuck, yes —

Vi begs when she takes and you beg her to take and Sevika thinks you’re a match made in heaven. She watches the two of you close up, dangerously personal. How your urges force your bodies against each other; you push when Vi pulls and pulls when she pushes. Both your thighs are soaked with each other and Sevika would kill to be in between them. 

Structure. You and Vi are combative in your own right and Sevika mediates your tension. It’s perfect. You fit in between them so well, slid between them like butter. Why would anyone come in and jeopardize that?

Her spirit slams back into her body when a soft hand curls around her wrist; there’s barely any pressure, a bit insecure, and she knows you’re nervous. Your eyes are on her, the pleading in them almost louder than your exclamations of satisfaction. Are you still mad at me? 

For talking to Abby. Sevika should say yes — the ruthless part of her wants to so you’ll work harder, but she swallows it. The stare she gives you is hard, and your hand squeezes tighter on her. Sevika being mad makes you wetter, she can see it with every glisten between your legs. You look like you’re boutta cum again. 

Fucking Abby… Always prepared to wreck something that’s perfectly made for her. 

You were so quick to take both of them… Would that have been the case for Abby, too?

Okay, Sevie? 

She immediately softens at Vi’s breathless inquiry, and she nods. Keep going. 

Vi arches a brow with a suggestive smile. 

We’re gonna cum for you, baby. Talk us through it? 

Those eyes… Vi’s greatest weapon. How could Sevika ever deny her?

She never will, so she moves. Stands from the floor to climb in behind Vi because she’ll always be first and she’s mad at you; a vengeful hand encloses around her best friend’s throat while she whispers the filthiest shit in her ear. Calls her a slut before kissing her like she loves her. Tells her to fuck you harder. Show her who she belongs to. 

Sevika’s tongue gets loose when she finds your gaze. You’re a fucking mess; the glitter on your lids melt down your fluttery eyes like tears. Your pupils are so apologetic and blown and searching for acceptance but she ignores you, and she thinks you might cry but she wants you to. 

You want Abby so fucking bad? She’s right downstairs. Why would you waste your time up here? Obviously we don’t give you enough. 

Sevika only says it because Vi’s distracted by her own euphoria, eyes dislodged in her skull with drool rolling down her cheek from how good you’re fucking on her, but Sevika takes care of it with her tongue. She should be watching Vi, but she watches you, cautiously eyeing the two of them like a frilled rabbit. She’ll rip you to shreds if you give her the chance. Any sign of weakness and you’re hers to tear apart, just like that. Limb from limb. She craves you. 

Can’t take it, baby, ‘s so sensitive, Vi whimpers up at Sevika with her nails in your thigh, and Sevika kisses her forehead to soothe. Tells her it’s fine. Tells her to scoot over because she’s got you. 

Vi doesn’t go too far. Slides in right next to you, actually. Your legs shake and your fingers curl around the mussed blanket. Sevika crawls to you, and you flinch when her hands latch onto your thighs. Your eyes are the same, but frantic. Please, don’t hate me, please please please. Your little sneeze is the icing on the cake. 

Her grin is sinister. Excitement radiates off you. 

Vi kisses your cheek and slides a sneaky hand down your torso, past your tummy and hips, touches right where you need it most, and your jaw slacks when she spreads you open for Sevika. Vi nudges your cheek with her nose, gets you to face her so she can kiss you, all dazed out and sloppy. 

Such a good distraction. 

A thick finger breeches your walls without warning, and you squeal into Vi’s mouth while she rubs your clit to pacify. Sevika has learned you pretty well, she thinks; knows exactly where to press to get your thighs clamping down on her wrist. She moans when your tightness chokes her; so slippery and aching and desperate on the inside. It matches your exterior perfectly. Your pussy’s begging her to give it to you. Nice and hard. 

So she slides another one in; Vi can barely kiss you because you’re so loud so she tongues at your throat. Sevika knows you’re close; she can feel it, how hard you attempt to drain her, riding that edge. 

Gonna take this dick like a good slut when we get home? She purrs. 

Yes, Sevie, yes yes yes!

Sevika gathers spit in your mouth and it splashes all over cheeks and nose and mouth. She scoffs a laugh when your fingers lace through her slobber to greedily shove in your mouth, Atta girl, get me nice ‘n wet, feels real good, huh? Show me how much you love when I’m inside you. 

More thoughtless bouts of pleasure are forced from you before Vi presses an aiding hand on your tummy. Sevika’s entire forearm is drenched in your scent, body knotted up tight as you thrash and cry and scratch all over Vi until red streaks down the side of her. She licks your tears from your cheek while your head hangs off the edge of the mattress and all Sevika can think about is making you keep your promise; taking her deep in your throat, hot and snug while you choke and slobber all over her. 

They’re so hypnotized by you, the door opening hardly shakes them. 

“Well, well, well!” 

Everything stops… Well, except you, you’re still cumming… and Sevika’s still fucking you… and Vi hasn’t moved either. Maybe nothing stopped.

“Got all your dogs on a leash, don’tcha Cap?” Abby whistles from the door that was very much so locked. Abby’s seemingly unbothered by you on the brink of a second orgasm, your hand attempting to push Sevika’s body off yours, but Vi holds your wrist down. 

“Hiii. How’d ya get in?” Vi questions while she shushes you, and Abby dangles a key off her middle finger. “Ellie sent me to get a bong replacement!”

“You live here now?” Sevika demands in annoyance. Fucks into you deeper. Smirks when you start wailing when she hits that spongy spot. 

“I don’t. Ellie does. She just lets me in when she’s feelin’ lonely… You guys, too, evidently,” She gives you the filthiest stare, “Hey, dollface! Havin’ fun? I could hear you all the way down the hall!” 

“Oh, God, Sevie, ‘m cumming again!” 

“Yeah, ‘m sure you are,” Abby rasps and Vi giggles, “So, what, is she the team’s new communal pussy or somethin’?” 

Vi tuts, “No… we’re just showing her how to do it herself.” 

Abby squints skeptically, “… Riiight, right…” 

Vi doesn’t catch the look Abby throws at you, but Sevika does, and she almost chucks one of your shoes at her face. A hyena preying on the injured. She can hear the devilish cogs turning in the blonde’s head. 

“Don’t be like that, Abby, c’mon… friends in need?” 

Abby smiles, “In need alright—“

“A-Abb — Y?”

Abby takes that as an invitation to come a little closer. Too close for Sevika, but you don’t seem to mind, “Yeah, honey, I’m here. Big meanie Sev’s doin’ ya in right?” 

“Fuck yes—“

She hums scoffingly, “Uh huuuh, looks like it, make her proud—“

“Can you get the fuck out!” Sevika shouts, and you and Vi flinch. She sends Sevika a harsh glare. 

“Jesus, calm the fuck down! Look,” Abby points at your fucked-out expression, “She likes it. Gamer freaks love this typa shit. She probably manifests having orgies in her diary.” 

Sevika sighs in irritation and she pulls out before sitting back on her heels, silently taking in how your slick glues to her fingers, and you almost start sobbing but Vi comforts you. Kisses you quiet while she holds you close, whispers encouragement in your ear while you whimper. Abby takes the chance to ease in close to Sevika, right beside her, eyes gawking at her dripping fingers. 

“Look, Cap, ‘m not the one to judge, but,” She shrugs, whispers right in her ear, “to put it light, she’s a desperate fucking loser, and what I’ve learned is that they love any bit of attention they can get. Makes ‘em feel good. You shoulda seen her earlier. She was almost in my lap ‘n all I had to say was she looked nice.” 

Sevika scoffs, but she finally meets the eyes of her conniving teammate. She’s plotting; It’s in her smile. Abby nudges Sev’s arm with her own, “C’mon, let her have this. She’ll be a fucking vet in her little Discord servers. Make her a star.” 

“You fucking disgust me.” Sevika says vehemently. 

“Doesn’t look like it, Captain.” Abby scales down Sevika’s body and back up until she meets her eyes again. She’s wound up so tight and Abby’s drinking it all in. “C’mon, for old times sake.”

Abby nearly gets strangled right there. Old times sake: chasing girls together, fucking them together, whatever else they did that she wishes she could forget, but it’s her history just as much as it’s Abby’s. When Sevika denies her an answer, she snorts in annoyance before moving to sit on the edge of the bed, thigh right beside your head. 

“Hey, baby, can ya look at me?” You take direction like a dream when you’re fucked out, eyes teary and face warm to the touch. Abby’s convinced you’d do anything to get on her good side at that point. 

“Can you take some more? I think you can take some more,” Before she can even finish, you’re consenting, “Yeah, I know you can, such a sweet girl.” 

Vi shudders with you, eyes glossy where they watch her, and Abby smirks down at her, “You are, too, as always.” The blonde gets her blushing. 

She looks over to Sevika with a hand shielding her mouth. She whispers with a finger sneakily pointed at Vi, “I think your girl wants me, Cap. Still gonna kick me out?”

Sevika is prepared to say yes, but she catches Vi with her lip jutted, silently begging to let Abby stay while you tremble next to her. She exhales so hard it sounds like a snarl. Abby smiles. 

“Do some shit I don’t like and I’ll fuck you up,” Sevika threatens, and Abby rolls her eyes. Sevika should know that she’s the last person to try and intimidate. She loves that; she’ll simply have to up her riskiness. Her finger blindly points at Ellie’s messy dresser. “There's some crazy shit in there, Sevie...” 

Sevika sighs before standing tall to head to Ellie’s drawers. Her laundry isn’t even folded, just slung on top of the cheap wood, “‘m sure you’d know, fuckin’ dirtball.” 

“Don’t flirt with me.” Abby’s heat wafts onto Sevika and she knows she’s behind her. Before Sevika can reach for a drawer handle, her wrist gets submerged in cherry blossom and red fingernail polish. 

Her tongue loosens to cuss her teammate out, but Abby whispers before she can try, “Can’t leave evidence… Ellie’ll get mad at me…” 

Sevika’s frozen; pink lips enclose around her fingers that drip and soak and smell of you. Abby swirls her tongue around the length of them, sucks them clean for her. “She taste good?” Sevika hums, and Abby sucks greedily in approval. 

A tight moan rings from the bed and their eyes hunt for you and Vi. Abby gives Sevika one last kiss on the tips of her fingers. Vi’s on top of you with her hand gripped tight on your neck while she orders you where to touch. Your hand labors between her legs, sloshing deep in her wetness while she curses in your mouth. 

Abby’s sly; takes the leap while Sevika’s distracted to drop to her knees in front of her, fingers already latching onto the fabric of her leggings. She hisses when a braun hand tugs at her hair, redirecting her gaze upwards. 

Sevika’s breathes unsteadily. “You lock the door?” 

The blonde sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. Sevika’s grip tightens when Abby’s head shakes in denial. 

[ddejavvu]

How about Tyler Owen's x scaredy cat where he catches her spraying his cologne on his pillows and one of his shirts because sometimes it's really hard to sleep without him next to her.

Pillow Talk - Tyler Owens x Reader

come participate in tyler owens night !

You'd hoped that the cologne in the air would dissipate by the time Tyler returned from loading up the car. He'd left only his toiletry bag behind, which had worked perfectly seeing as his cologne was tucked gently inside for you to scavenge for. You only used a few sprays, but they're strong and the scent is still thick and heavy in the air when he returns to collect his last few items.

"The wind's startin' up out there," He grins, thrilled that his current target is only a few hours' drive instead of across states, "I think this one's gonna be at least-" His nose wrinkles, and despite nodding coyly throughout his speech, he sees through your attempts to be nonchalant.

"'S that my cologne, darlin'?"

You cock your head to the side but he doesn't drop it, "I didn't bother puttin' any on today; don't need to smell good for Boone. Did you spray it, sweet thing?"

Your tongue wants to lie but your brain doesn't supply anything fast enough, so you're left with an awkward silence before conceding and nodding sheepishly.

"I didn't- I wasn't trying to waste it, I- I know it's expensive, but I just- it's for your pillow, because I, well, sometimes it's really hard for me to sleep when you're gone so I thought that maybe if your pillow smelled like your cologne then I could hug it and it wouldn't be so hard for me to fall asleep."

Tyler does an excellent job of listening along despite the second half of your ramblings being strung together into one almighty word-vomit. You cut him some slack when it takes him a moment to process, but he's surging forwards in no time, hurriedly but gently gathering you into his arms and tucking you snugly into his chest.

"Oh, darlin'." He murmurs, voice a hair thicker than normal as his large hand cups the back of your head and presses your face further into his chest. If he hadn't been hugging you you'd have assumed the worst of his silence, but you hear a deep inhale before he pulls away from the hug and takes you by the shoulders instead.

"Angel baby, don't do that to me," He pleads weakly, eyes red-rimmed and voice shaking, "Y'can't- y'can't go around tellin' me you've got trouble sleepin when I'm not here, that- that just makes me sad."

"Don't be sad," You hum, tears pricking at your own eyes at the sight of his, "It's- I just got used to being with you, that's all. I'll just take melatonin, or- or I'll lay off the coffee after lunch, or-"

"No, just-" He sniffles, aggressive like he's angry at his nose for running, groaning and squeezing your shoulders, "Use my cologne, baby, and I'll leave you one of my sweatshirts, and when you start gettin' sleepy tonight, you call me and I'll tell you all about Boone and Lily and Dani and Dexter, and- and all the crazy shit they say, and it'll be just like we're in bed together and I'm talkin' your ear off."

He finishes with a wobbly smile, one that's perfectly mirrored on your own face as you let out a soft, gentle sob. He's eager to pull you back into his arms and his large hands rub soothingly up and down your back.

"There we go, that's it," He croons, squeezing you tightly while you sniffle into his chest, "Poor baby, I'll be back soon. Shouldn't be longer than a day. I- I might even make it back tonight, who knows?"

"Don't rush," You mumble pitifully into his chest, "I don't want you driving all night through with no sleep, especially after a tornado. Just- just get home safe, okay? Not quick."

"Alright. Alright," He agrees, stroking once more down your back, "I won't drive through, but," He pulls away once more to stare down his nose at you, a stern expression on his face that typically isn't there when he's gazing at you. His hands hold your face in place, locking you into his scrutiny, "You can't stop me from calling you from the motel and talking you to sleep."

"Okay," You laugh, a thick, wet, pathetic sound that's mottled with the remnants of tears that Tyler wipes off of your cheeks, "Maybe- maybe around ten tonight?"

"It's a date," He grins, his hands gently shifting your face upwards so that he can crane down and kiss you, "What should I wear?"

"Something real sexy," You muse, barely able to fight a grin off of your face, "Maybe a thong?"

"I don't think Dexter would appreciate that, darlin'." Tyler laughs, your shared tears long forgotten, "If we're gettin' a motel tonight it's our turn to room together."

You bask in Tyler's laughter until it fades, the way he's still holding you close to his chest producing the same contentment. Finally you hum, "Thanks for letting me use your cologne, baby."

"Anytime." He vows, pecking a kiss against your forehead, "Don't be shy now, askin' for stuff like that. I'll do whatever I can to help you, darlin'."

You find yourself unable to speak, too overwhelmed by a mix of bashfulness and adoration. You sink into his arms instead, and he presses yet another kiss to your head, seemingly on a mission to cover your entire face before he leaves.

"And hey," He hums, the words thrumming against your nose where you nestle into his chest, "If all else fails, I'll bring home a thong for tomorrow night- we'll go so hard you'll sleep through next week."

[venuslarkspur]

Teen Hero Shenanigans

Part 2

We Were Written In The Stars, Boyfriend Of Mine.

Summary: Your Damian’s Twin Sister, after arriving 3 years after your brother, you never excepted to take the Robin mantle, until your brother runs away and you volunteer to take his place. Damian eventually returns and you are discharged from the role, after bottling up your anger you decide to go solo by running away and stealing the Batgirl. But you’re not alone, your sort of boyfriend joins you. The main problem is the boyfriend in question is your brother’s best friend, Jon Kent.

Pairing: Jon Kent x Batsis!Reader on this one. Mentions of platonic batfam and reader.

Notes: Sorry this took so long and it’s shorts I have an exam in 2 days 😢 - ONLY HALF PROOF-READ IM SORRY. Just pure Jon and Reader today

Warnings: Mentions of past child abuse, vomiting, derogatory language, cuts and bruises. Reader has some childhood ptsd.

Words: 1.6k

This morning was significantly quiet, sitting on the windowsill of what was your new home you hadn’t heard a scream in the last 12 hours, no petty purse snatching in sight. There were some clouds in the sky, it was never this nice in Gotham, too much pollution. But the harsh breeze against your skin reminded you of what life was like in the mountains training with your grandfather, it really made you think of how ironic it was that you always got Damian’s sloppy seconds. First being heir of the league of assassins, then being Robin, but now you have something that’s yours; the sleeping boy in the bed. Next to you. Even though he was technically Damian’s first, he doesn’t get to see him this way.

You dabbed your wounds again and let out a disgruntled noise upon hitting a bruise, you grabbed some honey and dabbed it on the dried up cut. You had gotten into a confrontation last night and you weren’t expecting for the low level thug to have some backup. Long story short, he had a ridiculously big group of goons and Jon had to come and help. Let’s hope they all had health insurance for the beating you both gave them. But you couldn’t lie, without your father or siblings there you felt like a rogue, even when you were fighting crime with Jason you never felt this out of place. You felt like you would relapse at any moment and forget your new ways. You never took pleasure in killing, it’s just how your grandfather taught you. Nobody taught you about redemption, you were just explained the world in black and white.

Luckily, you had Jon if you ever nearly slip up. You hadn’t looked at your phone in 3 good days and you had been happy that way, you missed them, even your father to an extent but you also knew proving yourself was important. The highlight of all of this was Jon, sure breaking a few scum noses was nice too. But nothing beats the adrenaline of going on patrol together and the press wondering when you two became an item, you leave as quickly as possible though; you can’t risk your family coming to get you or Jon’s for that matter. It was a bit easier for Jon, his parents trusts him and loves him. Your family loves you too, but if Bruce trusted you then why fire you?

“Ouch.” You murmur after hitting a particularly sensitive bruise, deciding that’s enough and wanting to spend some more time with Jon before your patrol, you slip back next to him; ruffling his hair and trying to shuffle as close as humanely possible, the more you shuffled the more healed you felt by the moment, not just physically but mentally as well. There was so many things to tell him, about your overbearing mother? Or maybe almost being disowned by your grandfather? But you didn’t wanna tell him things he wouldn’t know what to do with. So you embrace him and he gets the message and pulls your waist around him, which made you hope the morning would never end.

————————

“I received a call from Clark this morning.” Bruce said sternly to almost all his children, they all sat on the couch, “Clark? has he found her?” Stephanie spoke up first, her eyes widened with hope as Barbara placed a hand on her shoulder. “Steph..” she said whilst rubbing her back to comfort her. “Well, what did he say?” Barbara asked, Bruce let out a sigh and faced his kids.

“You all remember Jon right?” They all nodded in unison and mutual confusion, “Well, recently Jon has gone off too, they think around the same time as your sister.”

“What are you saying?”

————————

“You okay?” Jon asked as you searched the knocked out drug dealer in front of you. “Absolutely nothing, no leads.” You replied, you’ve been trying to find the boss of a local drug cartel but you’ve had no luck. “Babe, I was asking about you.” He looked down at his shoes before moving over to you. His glowing features making you forget about the filthy, rat infested alley. “Ups and downs, some days I really miss my family.” You look down and don’t realise the thug under you has woken up and has now broken out of his restraints. “I’ll get you for this you slu-“ he lunges at you seething with anger; but you swiftly move out of the way and restrain his hands before Jon hastily pins him to the ground again, using his weight against him. “You brats..” you role your eyes and gesture Jon to walk away with you, and you nearly did until for the first time you lost sense of self.

“You fucking cunt! Look at me!” The thugs screams and you pull Jon along, nothing he can say to you can do anything, you’ve heard it all, well until he reopened some old wounds; emotional wounds. “You are nothing bitch!” You stop dead in your tracks, Jon looking at you with extreme concern and wondering what changed. Immediate memories flood in, Damian leaving, your grandfather working you to the bone after his disowned, former heir left. Harsh days that ended in you holding your stomach and trying to keep your breakfast from coming up, which didn’t always work and wasn’t always pleasant. Vomiting blood was the worst of it after you were hit a bit too hard and were left clenching onto your stomach for dear life.

“On your feet.” A grating voice that resembled your grandfather spoke, were you having a panic attack? All you knew is you were reliving you worst memories. Please I don’t want to remember! I won’t. “Do you want to be meaningless? Pick up your sword and face me, I won’t allow you to fail.” You wondered if your mother even cared, she would carefully ogle your hands at night, commenting on how your once porcelain, delicate, hands were now ruined. But she did nothing about it, you wanted to be the heir; but not like this. You risked being disowned too if you even asked about your father or brothers, so you didn’t. You just didn’t,

“Babe? Are you okay?” A familiar voice said, you were now acutely aware you were out of the alley and lifted into your boyfriend’s arms. “You were in a daze..I couldn’t wake you up I’m sorry.” He looked down whilst placing you guys atop a nearby building, “it’s okay, I’ve never had anything like that happen to me before.” Jon offered you and sympathetic look before taking one of your hands in his, “I wanted to show you something to make you feel better.” You tilted your head, wondering what he had planned.

“Come.” He said and slowly lifted his feet of the group flying upwards, you were also gently lifted off the ground; surprisingly, no strain, only his gorgeous features. “Only a little longer now.” He said as he went further up in the sky only a bit stray of the clouds, he quickly shifted you upwards into the bridal carry. “Sorry if this isn’t a comfortable position, I wanted you to be facing me; since you’re my equal and everything..” he spoke in a shy tone, without hiding the faint blush on his face. Your heart was melting, he might as well take it for himself. But you wouldn’t say that to him, could ruin the mood. “I’m plenty fine here.”

“Good we are here.” He took his fingers and lifted your chin upwards; you were met with a vast sea of glowing stars, because of the pollution in Gotham; you never saw this many. You had never felt so loved in your life, so validated, so cared for. You started shedding tears and hugging into his chest, “Shit-oh sorry I didn’t realise this would-I’m so sorry-“ Jon said scrambling to rub your back and pepper your forehead with kisses to repay you. “No, Jon, happy tears I promise.” You say softly and his calms and he places his chin on the top of your head, “This is why you’re the only person I’ve ever let into my heart in this sort of way..” You utter and Jon has to hold back some tears of his own, “Thank you.” You move in closer and grab his face to kiss him, and it seems like it lasts forever before you both pulled away gasping for breath.

“I think I-“ you scramble to get your words together, feeling everything so intensely, until your finally get it together. “I love you so much Jonathan Kent.”

“I love you.” You finish, staring directly into his eyes, “I love you too.” He said, matching your gaze. “I love you so much more.”

Tag list: @waterwyne @venusmorning @planetlotus @sugarrush-blush @skepvids @dreaming-of-the-reality @otterluver05 @godoreo22 @earth-to-name @krys0210 @jisnothere

It wouldn’t let me tag a few people so please check your settings if you asked to be a tagged and weren’t! (Sorry for the inconvenience)

Thank you for all the lovely support <3 it’s definitely helped me finish this part off and it’s very appreciated. 💕

Next Part: Robin Vs Batgirl (yes it’s getting dramatic in this one.) NEXT PART IS OUT.

[moonstruckme]

Hey! I LOVE the comic you posted of the reader going to a club pre-relationship! I was wondering if you could write a part 2 to that of all of them going to a club together. With some jealousy, like when the reader goes to the bathroom on her way back she is getting flirted with by a random guy and the marauders reaction. Feel free to ignore

(Also I adore you comic that make my day every time I have re-read all of them at least 3 times!)

Hi lovely, thank you so much ! This took me forever to get to sorry, hope you enjoy it <3

part 1

cw: alcohol, unwanted/nonconsensual touch

roommate!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Your shriek cuts through the loud music, and you turn to Remus with an open-mouthed grin. 

“This is my favorite song!” you shout. 

He laughs. In the past half hour, four songs have been your favorite. “Yeah?” he asks. 

You nod happily, throwing your hands above your head as you spin. You’re tipsy twirly, surprisingly sprightly considering you’ve downed enough shots to get Remus hammered, and he’s got several inches on you and has been drinking since he was thirteen. 

Sirius is in a similar state. Remus and James have been steering the two of you around for most of the night, but now James has put himself in charge of crisis prevention, playing goalie between either of you and the bar. 

“Oh be fun, Prongsie,” Sirius wheedles after getting spun around by the shoulders for the upteenth time. “I know you can be fun.” 

“I am fun,” James agrees. “I have my most fun when I’m not cleaning up your vomit. Go dance with y/n.” 

You’re game for this plan, giving Sirius an enticing smile and moving your hips to the music in a way that makes Remus’ mouth go completely dry. He knows he’s not the only person in this club who’s noticed, but thankfully the little circle the four of you have made in the dance floor stays clear of intruders. Thus far, your prediction has proved correct; no other men have come up to you with your roommates around. He’s not particularly distraught about it. 

You seem oblivious to your own allure, laughing when Sirius hurries toward you like a called puppy. You take his hands, letting him twirl you around and then holding your arms up to twirl him in return, and at the chorus, you both jump around so that your hair flies all about. Your laughter is loud and sparkling. Remus sips his drink, entranced. 

There are two more favorite songs before you careen towards him, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. He hastily grips you by the elbow, wary of a fall, but you seem to have done this intentionally. You beam up at him, your smile lopsided and far less shy than anything he’s ever seen from you. 

“M’gonna go to the toilet,” you tell him, one word leading into the next like they’ve been sloppily tied together with string. 

“Oh, okay.” Of its own volition, Remus’ hand coasts up the back of your upper arm, then down to your elbow again. “Do you think you’re gonna be sick, honey?” 

Your face screws up as if this is taboo to mention. “What? No.” You make a funny pffting sound. “I’m miles off from that, I’m fantastic, it’s just,” you lower your voice, expression turning grave, “I think it’s time to break the seal,” you tell him meaningfully. 

This time it’s entirely intentional, but he also can’t help it. You’re just too cute. Remus sets his hand on the top of your head affectionately, grinning at you. “Alright, love, sounds good.” He looks around for the women’s bathroom, locating it a short distance away. “Want one of us to go with and wait outside for you?” It’s not like he can’t see it from here, but a girl as intoxicated as you probably shouldn’t be going anywhere by herself. 

“No, no, I’ve got it,” you say, patting his chest lightly. “Back soon.” 

It’s like you’ve disappeared into a mist, the way you fade into the crowd so quickly. It takes Remus a moment to spot the top of your head moving towards the bathroom. You turn around just before you go in, giving him a dazzling smile paired with a dorky thumbs-up. 

“Where’d she go?” James asks, holding his drink aloft while Sirius grabs for it. “And what has made you smile like that, Moony?” 

Remus makes a dismissive sound, but he feels his face heat as he takes a long sip of his own drink. James’ grin widens. 

“Ooh,” Sirius catches on. “What’d she say to you?” 

“Nothing. She’s gone to the toilet.”

Sirius’ kohl-rimmed eyes bulge, and James laughs, following his train of thought immediately. “Did she ask you to follow her? I didn’t think that was your style, you rake.” 

Remus rolls his eyes. “You’re depraved.” 

It’s not long before you reappear, catching Remus’ eye on your way out of the bathroom like you knew he’d be looking. You give him another of those heart-stuttering smiles and head his way, weaving your way through the crowd with a drunken expertise. 

A happy glow of anticipation starts up in his chest, but you’re intercepted on the way. Another head, taller, steps in front of you, blocking Remus’ view. He cranes his neck, but he can’t see you. 

He must make some sound or simply be emanating discontent, because James is back at his side in an instant. “What’s wrong?” 

“Someone’s talking to her. I can’t see her anymore.” He sounds ridiculous, like an overprotective douche, but he can’t imagine one can be too cautious when a drunk girl is surrounded by guys in a place like this. Remus is being purely practical. 

“Let’s go get her.” James is on board immediately, taking Sirius by the elbow and beginning to bulldoze his way through the crowd. Sirius grabs Remus’ hand just before the gap closes behind them, dragging him along. 

Remus hears you before he sees you. 

“Really, I appreciate it, but I’m not looking for anything.” Your voice sounds slightly tight, and Remus knows you well enough to tell by the sound of it that you’re giving whoever you’re talking to one of your big, fake smiles. 

A man’s voice says, low and sure, “You don’t mean that—” and that’s as far as he gets, because you interrupt to exclaim, with no small amount of relief, “My friends!” 

“Hi, sweetheart,” James says, and you’re right in front of them. You’ve cleaned up your makeup in the bathroom, the eyeliner that had transferred sweatily under your eyes now pristine again, and your smile is indeed giant and thin-lipped as you look between them and the man in front of you, subtly flaring your eyes. He reads the look clearly: Help, please!

Remus looks you over. The man has his hands on your hips and one of yours is around his wrist, a cautious touch. Sirius takes care of that quickly, wrapping his forefinger and thumb around the wrist closest to him and removing it like it’s a piece of trash he found on the street. 

“Do you two know each other?” Remus asks. Without permission, his voice comes out gruff and accusatory. 

“No,” you say speedily, taking a step towards Sirius. Towards them. “I was just on my way back to you guys, actually.” 

“We were talking.” The man looks between the three of them scrutinously, like they’re threats. Remus doesn’t hate the thought of being a threat to this guy. 

“Sounded like you were done talking, mate.” James smiles easily. You’d have to really know him to hear the sharpness in his tone. 

Sirius snakes an arm around your waist, but you don’t shy from the bold touch. In fact, you lean into him, your smile slowly beginning to resemble the genuine article. “Wanna get another drink, baby?” Sirius asks you, gaze salacious. 

“Mhm.” You bob your head eagerly, and he leads you off, James and Remus following. “Thanks for the help,” you tell them as soon as you’re away. “He didn’t, like, do anything, but it was a bit intimidating.” 

“Anytime, sweetheart,” James replies, expression going a bit stormy now that he’s done feigning lightness. “And I wouldn’t say he didn’t do anything, he shouldn’t have put his hands on you like that.” 

“It’s whatever,” you wave it off so easily Remus’ heart gives a little throb. “What’re we drinking?” 

“Oh, that was a ploy,” Remus says. “We’re done drinking, remember?” 

You pout, and Sirius hugs your side sympathetically (entirely for your benefit, Remus is certain). “You mean we’re done,” he sneers. “You and Prongs get to have however much you want. Who made you king of the beer?” 

“I think you did, actually,” Remus says thoughtfully. “At Mary’s New Year’s party, remember?” 

Sirius sniffs, presumably because he does not.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 18: First Impressions Are Often Correct

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter eighteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 11.6K

Warnings: I'm going to rate this one 18+ just to be on the safe side. :) References to sex, Cursing, Angst, Mentions of Death, Blood, Gore, Possessive Soldier Boy, Protective Soldier Boy, Soft Soldier Boy, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the 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. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: I'm so sorry, I know this has been a long time coming. I work hard, but writer's block works harder tbh.

It had to be herogasm. You think to yourself with an audible groan looking up at the mid-century house from your position in the tree-line while watching the couples on the back porch writhe against one another.

The three hour drive from your apartment to Vermont had been uneventful and quiet. Every once in a while Ben would whisper something to you and you would half answer, but only because your mind was somewhere else or rather on someone else.

It was on Rosemary. She had stopped trying to text you or call you, and the silence was worse. You had no idea what she was going to do or what she was thinking. It was a miracle that she hadn’t shown up to your apartment and kicked down the front door before you left. You knew she was angry about the whole situation. And the sooner you dealt with the twins the sooner you could go see her.

Of course you still had no idea how you were going to bring up the conversation with Ben and you knew that there was no way he would let you just leave with no explanation to go talk to her.

This is why I hate texting. I should have just gone to see her, I shouldn’t have told her that Ben was back in a text, if anything that's a three drink minimum. Hell, she's probably half way through a second bottle of wine by now. Something that you also had considered several times today. Guess sobriety is going out the window. Shocker.

Ben kept asking you what was wrong, sensing your discomfort on the drive and held your hand tightly between the two of you, but you only shook your head whenever he asked. He thought that you were having second thoughts of going after the twins, but that was the one thing you were sure of. They deserved to pay for what they did, all of your team did. Anger rises beneath your skin like a roaring crowd when you think of all the years Ben spent alone in Russia being tortured and experimented on. Years that you could have stopped if only you'd known, years that he could never get back, memories that wouldn't fade in the next decade or two, and memories that you hoped you could replace by making him feel loved, by holding him close, and allowing yourself to forget the memories that still plagued you when you thought about the past.

But you still didn't know how the hell you were going to tell him about Rosemary. Every moment it felt like the words were going to vomit out of your mouth, but you clamped your jaw shut. You didn’t want to talk about Rosemary in front of Butcher and Hughie, didn’t want to tell Ben like that. What you needed to say about Rosemary and Lou didn’t deserve to be shouted at him or said in haste, you wanted to sit Ben down and tell him, give him time to adjust to the idea. Because you had no idea how he was going to react to the news that he was a dad and a grandfather.

Would he pull away again? Would he run? Would he leave me? Those thoughts kept swirling around your mind like a mixtape. You were scared that by telling him about her would make him go cold like he did the moment you told him you loved him. You remembered the distant look that replaced his smile as soon as you had uttered those three little words.

Little but not simple. Three little words that launched ships and started a hundred wars. Three little words with the power to create and the power to destroy. Three words that Ben had said to you more times than you could count since he came back to you, and three words you wished you never stopped hearing him say, the three words you always wanted him to say to you.

If Ben pushed you away now, you knew that you wouldn't survive it this time, knew that there was no going back. Which made you more fearful about Rosemary's reaction to Ben coming back into your life.

You were afraid that Rosemary would give you an ultimatum and make you choose between her and Lou or Ben. You really hoped that it didn’t come to that. You had just gotten Ben back and you didn’t want to have to pick between him and your family.

Because Ben is family too. You knew that deep down in your bones, even after everything that happened, Ben was your family. He was the only person who knew you inside and out, the only man you’d ever loved and the only person who understood you. You couldn’t turn your back on him and you didn’t want to shut him out. Not when you loved him more than life itself.

Your frown deepens as you continue to watch the people on the back porch while your supe hearing picks up the moans and sounds of the couples inside and the subtle thump of music, new pop songs that you didn't understand and didn't try. You were up with the times, but it didn't mean you had to like what was happening or the new music being produced no matter how hard Rosemary tried to get you to listen to it.

You sigh again, trying to drown out the sounds by focusing on the wind moving through the trees and the birds flitting through the branches overhead, but it wasn’t working. The beautiful day was already ruined by the loud and messy sounds from the inside of the house. 

“Always wanted to bring you to one of these Sweetheart.” Ben glances over at you with a cheeky grin, lowering the binoculars from his eyes, but then he notes your frown. “Then again-“ His hand comes around your waist to pull you into him. “That means I would have had to share you with someone else, and I’d much rather have you all to myself.”

 You can feel his smirk against your ear, but it does little ease your anxiety about Rosemary and the looming conversation you were going to have with Ben when this was over.

Hughie had disappeared a few moments ago to scout out the inside and to find the twins, while Butcher was doing a walk of the perimeter, leaving you and Ben to wait for the all clear. A welcome break, because every few minutes Hughie would play with a Geiger counter and the high pitched creak-like squeak was giving you a headache. Not to mention annoying you. You'd only been able to have a few sips of your coffee this morning after Butcher and Hughie burst into you apartment, but at least your anxiety was picking up the slack.

Because of course it was.

The house in front of you looked innocent enough on the outside, big windows light wood,  but now that you were here, you really didn’t want to go inside. Despite wanting to face the twins, you didn’t want to go inside and be reminded of the one reason why you stayed away from Herogasm.

At least today we aren’t attending it as much as crashing it.

“Why do you think I hated going to Herogasm?” You murmur, frown deepening at you continue to stare at the house.  The memories of the past had an ugly way of crashing down on you and despite not wanting to make Ben feel guilty, keeping them to yourself made you feel worse. Plus you figured he knew when you were lying, because Ben was basically a human lie detector when it came to you.

Ben sighs, his warm breath washing over the side of your face as his arm tightens around your waist to secure you to him. “Sweetheart please look at me.” His voice is comforting, filled with emotion, but you still don't look at him.

“What?” You whisper, mind still a million miles away.

His fingertips come under your chin to turn your face to his. Ben’s green eyes lock with yours, soft and apologetic, familiar in the best way and weird given the fact that he was wearing his uniform. You’d never seen him look so sorry when he was dressed up as Soldier Boy.

“I would have killed any man who tried to touch you, especially after the night we shared together. When Vogelbaum danced with you I wanted to rip his arms off.”  His eyes darken.

You remembered the way he watched Vogelbaum and you dance together at the premiere with the cameras flashing in your eyes, but then the image of Countess plastered to his hip arises. The way she ran her hands up his chest, the way he turned his gaze away from you to stare at her.

“Yes, but see I never killed any woman that touched you-“

Double standard much?

“Well-“

“Countess doesn’t count.” You snap.

Ben’s thumb strokes along your jaw, before his expression softens again. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve apologized-“ You sigh, suddenly guilty. You hadn't meant to snap at him like that, you were on edge because of Rosemary, not because of what Ben did in the past. You were already starting to forgive him for what he did.

“Not for this.” He takes in a deep breath before he pulls you closer to him. “I’m sorry that I made you think I didn’t want you. Because I do. I don't want anyone else, haven't ever wanted anyone else like I want you. I was so stupid. I fucked those other women because I couldn’t handle how I felt about you and I didn’t think that you would ever want me even a fraction of how much I want you-“

“More.” You whisper before you can stop yourself, laying your hand against the front of his suit.

“That is impossible.” Ben smiles faintly.

You toy with the material, plucking it between your fingers. “It’s okay. I understand why you did it. But it was hard to watch you with them.” You try to fight the image of him and Countess again, that is quickly followed by the memories of the many women over the years you’d see Ben with in public and of course the memory of the first and only Herogasm you ever went to, the one you left early because you couldn’t bear to see Ben with anyone else. The same one that you swore you saw Ben watching you just as closely when Noir tried to reach out for you and you walked away.

It’s different now. You think to yourself. Ben said that he’s wanted me this whole time and I believe him. I don’t think he would lie about something like that, not to mention he’s been more open about what he’s feeling.

“I know.” Ben continues to stroke along your jaw. “But I promise it won’t happen ever again.”

“I believe you.” You lock your arms around the back of his neck to hold him closer to you, loving the way his body felt wrapped around you, like he was molded just for you.

“Good.” He leans his forehead against yours for a moment. "Can I kiss you yet?" Ben's words are quiet, barely above a whisper, so low that you know if you didn't have super hearing you'd have missed them.

"You've never been a patient man. In all the years I've known you." You breathe with a smile.

"Maybe I've just never met someone worth waiting for." Ben's nose nudges into the space between you faces, waiting for you to tell him it's okay and you want to. "But you are Sweetheart."

"You've waited forty years."

"You waited longer."

His words make a ball of emotion lodge in the back of your throat, because it meant Ben listened. He heard everything you said to him and he wasn't going to forget, he was going to make this up to you.

It was hard to say no to him, not when he was smiling at you and gazing at you the way you'd always wished him to.

"We both know I'm a bit more patient than you."

"Maybe."

"You know, maybe we should be focusing on something else right now." You smirk, still keeping your lips just as hairsbreadth away from his.

“It's hard to focus on anything else, not when you’re wearing something like that.” Ben purrs, thumbs brushing against you hips in a way that makes your chest tight.

Your smirk deepens “Oh this old thing?”

At the last minute you had chosen to wear the outfit you had picked when you thought you were going to be going to Russia to get Ben, rather than your old supe suit. You didn’t want to be connected with the person you were then, and despite Ben’s want to hold on to Soldier Boy, you were more than happy to let Indigo go.

The outfit was working better than you thought. The tight black tactical pants, combat boots, black leather jacket, and long sleeved leather corseted blouse that was sinched at your waist all perfectly accentuated the curves that your mother tried to hide. When you had walked out of your closet wearing it, Ben’s entire body had gone rigid.

“What?” You’d asked him with an innocent smile standing just a few steps outside your closet, while watching the tension in his shoulders.

“Damn it sweetheart you’re making this hard.” He had responded, clenching his hands into fists at his sides to hold himself back from crossing your bedroom to touch you. It made you smile wider to understand that he was trying to respect the boundaries you made between the two of you.

“What is it that I’m making hard Benjamin?”

“Fuck. Don’t tease me. Nobody likes a tease.”

You’d smirked at him. “Sorry babe you walked right into that one.”

“It’s not fair-“ Ben had growled.

“What’s not fair?”

“You wearing that, biting your fucking lip like that-“

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He’d stalked towards you, eyes dark, causing you to back up until your back hit your pale bedroom wall. His hand had landed next to your head, the other wound around your hip so you could feel the heat of his skin through your clothes.

“You know, two can play at that game Sweetheart.” Ben had murmured, easing his face so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your lips.

“And what game is that?” You’d said it trying to keep your composure, but the dark look in his eyes and the smell of his shampoo was everywhere. Your heart beat had given you away, thudding violently in your chest as if it wanted to break free. It was hard to ignore how much you still wanted him after all these years.

"You know exactly what game." Ben had held your gaze, raising an eyebrow as a confident smirk pulled at his lips. He could hear your heartbeat too, probably could smell how much you wanted him. “But you’re so fucking beautiful I'll let it slide.”

“Huh?” It had been the last thing you thought he was going to say. If anything you’d thought he was going to tease you.

The hand that had been previously on the wall near your head dropped onto your face to gently trace the arch of your brow and the dip of your bottom lip.

“You always have been. I thought I remembered wrong but-" His expression shifted from the seductive smirk into something softer. "Fuck I missed you." Ben had leaned his forehead against yours. "So tease me all you want. I'll wait, because you're worth every second."

Remembering what he said earlier still filled you with an incredible amount of love and made you want to kiss him all the more now. Knowing that he was willing to wait for you to be okay with whatever came next made you fall harder for him. But now you knew that you needed to focus on what you were about to do. And standing here in front of the house, listening to what was going on inside made you sober up, just a little bit…. But not completely.

"Then again I thought those overalls were pretty sexy too." Ben states, staring down at you with a wide smile as the mid-afternoon sun turned his hair into a light brown and found the flecks of gold in his eyes. He looked every bit as handsome as you were accustomed to, so much in fact that it made your heart ache.

"Sure." You roll your eyes. "I think you're the first person in history to say that." Your fingers lightly curl into the strands at the back of his head.

"Maybe. Or maybe you're just the sexiest woman in history."

"Shut up."

Ben's gaze darkens. "Make me, Sweetheart."

Every viable thought except the thought of crashing your lips to his vanishes.

I wonder if they're as soft as I remember. If he still makes that sound when I-

"You two ready?" Butcher interrupts appearing just over Ben's shoulder, but smirking when he sees how close the two of you are. "Or do you love birds need a little alone  time?"

You roll your eyes and let go of Ben's hair, as he loosens his grip on your hips. Stepping back away from him was like having a bucket of cold water drop over you, you missed him and yet he was standing a full sixteen inches away from you.

This is really not good.

"You have the worst fucking timing." Ben moves to pick up his shield, but the playful smirk he'd had a few seconds ago has been replaced with a frown.

You wondered if he was as disappointed as you were.

The wind shifts and you can smell the Temp V in Butcher's veins, hear the steady beat of his heart as it pumps blood through his body, strengthening him, making him feel indestructible. When Butcher and Hughie had injected it at the back of Butcher's car, you couldn't help but be reminded of the day you took V. You had been afraid and when they injected it, you remember the pain, the unspeakable pain that made you scream so loud that Ben heard you from the room he was being kept in, and he broke through the wall to get to you. It was how the scientists learned that Ben had super strength, because he had smashed through solid rock to make sure you were okay.

Butcher shrugs and begins to walk through the trees towards the side door of the house, leaving you and Ben alone.

"You didn't answer my question." He hefts his shield up with a smirk.

He didn't have to explain, you knew he was asking about the kiss. "I'll take a raincheck."

"Hmm." Ben takes a few steps towards the house, before he stops to look back at you. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Huh?"

"In the car, even now. You're kinda quiet." He shrugs.

"I-" You were going to say that you were fine, but you knew that he would clock the lie. "We need to talk about something, but it can wait. This is important too."

Ben's frown deepens, but then he finally sighs. "Alright. Come on you’re lagging behind doll."

"Guess you changed your mind about wanting me here." You snort as you catch up to him.

Ben puts his hand on your wrist, turning you to look at him. "I always want you with me." His hand trails up your arm to finally rest under your chin. Ben smiles, leaning down towards you, but before you can arch up into him, he presses a kiss to your forehead. "I love you." He murmurs into the top of your head.

"I love you too."

And with that, you both follow Butcher into the house hosting the worst event in all of history.

I should have brought ear plugs. You cringe as you follow behind Ben and Butcher, weaving through the lower levels of the house. Maybe someone will let me borrow their blindfold. Hopefully there are nose plugs somewhere… well there have been other kinds of plugs but those are a bit big for my nose.

You walk down the staircase after Ben and Butcher who pulled ahead a few moments ago and as you do the sharp sour smell of a chemical wafts in your face, different than the other odors in the house.

What is that?

You round the corner and see Ben up ahead, shrouded in smoke, staring down an attractive muscular black man who for some reason has decided to raise his fists to challenge Ben. Your eyes trace the man's face, recognition pulling at your heart. You knew who he was. The first time you'd seen him he'd only been a boy, made eye contact with you at a funeral you couldn't help but go to, after Ben made a mistake. You'd offered the boy an encouraging smile and left the boy's family an envelope of cash in their mailbox because you couldn't think of anything else to do for them. You knew it couldn't replace who they lost, but you didn't know what else to do. Ben had been upset with himself after, he always was when he lost control. He showed up on your doorstep like he always did, drunk, high, smelling like stale perfume, and fell asleep in your bed after you reassured him the same way you always did.

Now that little boy was grown up and standing in front of you. You see recognition flash in his eyes as he sees you. Of course it does. You didn't look any different and you hadn't worn your supe suit when you went to the funeral.

"Not him." Butcher says to Ben, but Ben doesn't look away from the man.

"Ben." You whisper, reaching out to touch his arm gently.

Ben's eyes flick to yours. The look in Ben's eyes is familiar, predatory, unwilling to back down from a fight. Soldier Boy. You'd seen it countless times before, talked him out of killing people in the past. You hated how quickly you had to slip into your old job, the one that made you feel like a babysitter, but you shake it off.

"He doesn't know what he's doing. Come on. The Twins are upstairs, I can hear them arguing." It was true, you could, but you didn't want this to turn ugly so quickly. Not when the real reason why you were here were currently arguing about toilet cameras. 

His jaw tightens, eyes sliding to the man standing at the other end of the room, before he nods once and motions for you to go ahead of him.

As you continue to move through the house, you fight the shudder that threatens to travel down your spine when you think of how Ben looked moments ago. It was the first time you had seen Soldier Boy since Ben showed up again, and it was the same way you remembered it. You just hoped deep down that Ben really did want to change and that he was adopting the façade of Soldier Boy to get through what came next. You knew that you were going to have to adopt one as well.

"Here." You stop just before the two of you round the corner where the Twins were in the other room. "Let me go first. They might not try to run if I go in before you."

Ben frowns. "I don't want you to-"

"I know, but it'll be better this way."

"Fine."

You walk around the wall and towards the circular room where the Twins are fighting, ignoring the couples on the outskirts that are grinding against one another.

Like Countess, the Twins didn't look good, both were considerably older, rounder, grayer, and more wrinkly than the last time you'd seen them, but they were still the same. Still arguing and still just as annoying as they had been forty years ago.

"I never want to see you again!" Tommy spits at his sister, adjusting the golden robe slung over his shoulders that flaps around him like a cape.

"Oh sure!" Tessa sniffs while puffing on a joint. "Our Westfield mall appearance is next week and nobody is going to come see you without me!"

That must suck to have your powers depend on someone else.

"Wow, mall appearances? Aren't we all getting a bit old for that?" You flash a winning smile as you step down into the room, locking eyes with Tessa.

Both of the twins visibly pale, their hearts speeding up to work overtime, as the stench of adrenaline begins to waft through the air between you. It's almost comical how identical their reactions are to Countess' at seeing you for the first time in forty years. Then again you hoped that you looked better than they did.

Why didn't I try to find out more after Ben "died?" If our entire team had this reaction to seeing me then I would have known the truth and Ben wouldn't have been in a fucking Russian Lab all these years!

Their plan to ensure you not being in Nicaragua had paid off, because not only were you not there, you didn't want anything to do with any of them. And you wished that you had confronted them all those years ago. You knew that you'd live with that guilt for a long time, but now you allowed your anger at what they all did to Ben, overpower it.

"Y/n-" Tessa stutters.

It was weird to see her at a loss for words. You and all of Payback had listened to her nag Tommy since the moment they joined the team. Judging by what you had walked into, you figured that she hadn't changed at all.

"Hey long time no see!" Tommy fakes enthusiasm while licking his lips nervously, eyes darting to the open doors behind you. You could practically see the escape plan forming in his mind.

"You know, when I found out you guys were living in Vermont I was surprised. I would have thought that you moved down South. They’re probably more accepting of your relationship.” You make air quotes around the word relationship, before shifting your smile into an worried frown. “Oh sorry, are the two of you still pretending that you’re not fucking?”

Tessa’s gaze turns stone cold. “What the fuck do you want?”

“I was in the neighborhood, thought I’d check in.” You look around the room. “You guys have a nice house. Must have budgeted better than Countess did. Her tailer, now that was a shit hole. Must not have done as many mall appearances.”

Tommy’s heart skips a beat at the mention of Countess’s name. “Look y/n-“

“Please. We didn’t have anything against you. We didn’t come after you. Even after all these years we left you alone.” Fear seeps into Tessa’s voice with her plea, eyes wide with worry.

They had reason to be worried, you’d all but admitted to killing Countess.

“Oh sweetie.” You with false sweetness in your tone. “It’s cute that you think you can beg for mercy. That you're deserving of it.” The room begins to shake with the force of your anger as your eyes shift to bright purple. Cracks like thin spiderwebs stretch through the wide windows behind them and through the thick drywall as you lose control, the composure you always held on to drowning in the flood of emotion you feel when you look at the two of them. “Ben told me exactly what happened that day-“

“He lied to you!” Tommy exclaims. “He went crazy! You know how he gets, how he loses control!”

“He lost control and we had to protect ourselves y/n-“ Tessa adds, another lie.

Ben steps into the room beside you, his eyes are focused on the Twins, and if you thought they looked afraid when you showed up, they look near dead when Ben appears.

"You were saying?" You raise an eyebrow.

"Ben! Hey Buddy!." Tommy forces another smile but pales when he realizes Ben just heard him and Tessa try to lie to you. "How are you? Long time. We were just talking to y/n about-“

Ben's eyes narrow, stopping whatever Tommy was going to say about you.

"Nicaragua wasn't our fault!" Tommy says to recover. "Neither was the premiere." His eyes dart to yours, cowering under the purple light that pulses from your irises.

Wow. Just. Wow.

"We swear." Tessa adds.

"Why should we believe you?" You spit.

"Please-"

"Then whose fault was it?" Ben's frown deepens, hand tightening on the shield.

None of the other couples have stopped what they are doing, too enthralled in one another to notice what was going to unfold between the four of you.

"It was Noir!" Tommy shouts desperately, his eyes flitting from Ben to you as if trying to see which one of you will believe him. "He gave Ben to the Russians."

It's almost pathetic watching his mad scramble to protect himself. Apart of you hates that you don't feel guilty for any of this, at least with Countess at the beginning you felt some guilt for hurting her, but with them there was nothing. Not even the prick of remorse, there was only anger.

Ben chuckles under his breath. "We all know that Noir didn't even take a shit without Vought's say so."

"Not to mention his head was so far up Stan's ass it's a wonder that he could breathe." You narrow your eyes at the two of them waiting for them to make a move. They might be cowards, but if you knew the Twins well enough, you knew that they weren't above throwing a bolt of lighting in your direction. And you knew for a fact that electrocution wasn't fun.

"It's the truth!" Tessa shouts above the moans and wet squelch of the people around you. “Please y/n we have children.”

“You're really the worst liar hon. Always have been." You snap, listening to her heartbeat jolt in her chest as she attempts to save herself.

"Please talk Ben out of this, just like you did for Noir-“ Tommy's plea falls on deaf ears, but you knew what he was talking about. The day that you saved Noir's life because he started a fight with Ben over a stupid role in a movie. But this was different, no part of you wanted to save them from this, to save them from what they deserved.

“Noir will get what’s coming to him.” You don't recognize your own voice. "You brought this on yourselves."

But then something shifts in the air, call it a feeling, or an energy current, but something feels wrong.

The music coming from the radio has changed to a Russian pop song, why it's playing you have no idea, all you know is that it does something to Ben.

The sound of his shield hitting the ground rings in your ears and you turn to look at him. His entire body is tensed beneath his suit, sweat dotting along his hairline, red beginning to creep into his cheeks. His eyes are squeezed shut and he shakes his head as if he's trying to clear it.

"Ben? Are you okay?" Your hold on the room vanishes, eyes fading back to their normal color as your worry turns to Ben.

His fists are clenched tightly together as he brings them up to the sides of his head, chest beginning to glow with his new power, the one you'd never seen before, the one that Ben said practically vaporized whatever was in it's path.

Shit.

"Ben. Stay with me, listen to my voice." You touch the sides of his face, begging him to listen to your plea. As much as you wanted the Twins to pay, Ben wasn't just losing control of his powers, this was different. It was almost like he was being dragged somewhere else, somewhere you couldn't follow.

"Everything's okay. I'm here, I'm right here." You soothe, but he continues to glow brighter and brighter and you're directly in the line of fire.

Shit.

Ben's eyes flash open, no longer bright green but an orange-gold that makes fear snag in your ribs like a fishing hook. His hand makes contact with your chest shoving you to the side, out of the way of the beam, but unfortunately through the solid rock wall.

You don't really know what happens next. The world goes black for a few minutes, not like when you die, but just black as everything burns around you when Ben explodes. You're not sure how long you're under, could be minutes, could be hours, all you know is that when you wake up everything hurts.

It's how you know that you didn't officially die. Whenever you woke up after death, it was different, you felt powerful, reborn, but right now you felt like a train ran over you. A headache throbs at your temples as you begin to come to, blinking your eyes against the darkness that doesn't go away. Your ears are ringing, filled with the screams of those who survived and the smell of burned flesh and blood surrounds you like a cloud.

A mountain of rubble and roofing covers you, leaving you in the darkness to get your bearings, but nothing feels broken.

At least the brick fireplace broke my fall. You think to yourself with a groan as you begin to push off the planks of wood and pieces of the roof that cover your body, so you can sit up. As soon as you do, your head spins and you fight the unpleasant urge to throw up.

Great. Might have a concussion.

You might be as strong as Ben, but your ability to die meant that you were just a little bit less equipped to handle a hit like that.

Ben. Worry and fear war in your heart as you look around the broken room that lays in tatters around you.

The house isn’t recognizable anymore. Singed carpet floats in tufts with ash around your face like a swarm of flies while fires burn in clumps all over the ruined room. Chunks of drywall and planks of blackened wood litter the floor and the back half of the house is gone, burned to a crisp in the blast from Ben.

What the fuck did they put in his chest? Ben had tried to describe it to you, tried to explain it, but standing here in the rubble you understood just how bad it was. The ruins in Mid-town you had seen the coverage of on the news, but it was a completely different thing to experience it in person.

People are going to think that he did this on purpose. That he's a bad person, that he's some kind of terrorist. The thought is immediately followed by the fear that Vought and the government would come to take him away. Your jaw tightens. I'd like to see them try.

The bodies of Tommy and Tessa are burned beyond recognition, still holding hands, but now are just blacked lumps of flesh and bone that lay where they tried to make their final stand. But you feel no remorse.

It’s what we came here to do, to make them pay. You bite the inside of your cheek listening to the screams of those who survived. I just didn't think that so many others would get hurt.

You continue to look around the room, worry rising in your chest as you think of Ben and remember the look on his face. He had been scared of what was about to happen even if he didn’t want to admit it. He lost control. In the past when he lost control the worst thing he could do was rip someone in half or smash their face into a pulp, but now if Ben ever lost control he'd level a building.

I see a lot of yoga in his future. Or maybe anger management classes.

Although the thought makes you smile, as soon as you see Ben everything else fades from your mind. Ben is on his knees in the center of the room, head slumped forward on his chest, hands laying limply by his sides, as he takes in shaky breaths. You could hear the frantic pound of his heart, beating hard against his rib cage as if begging to be released. Seeing him like that almost sends you into overdrive. You’d never seen him look so defeated, so small, so tired, so… lost.

“Ben?” You fall to your knees next to him, reaching out to touch his face, to bring his attention to you.

His body tenses as you do so, eyes narrowing when he meets yours like he doesn’t know you. His eyes miles away.

But where?

“Hey, it’s me.” You say gently, cupping his face with your hands to rub your thumbs across his cheeks while fear grips your heart as you try to bring him back to you. “It’s me, I’m here. It’s okay.”

Ben inhales sharply as if suddenly remembering, the look in his eyes clearing for a moment, rising through the fog. "Y/n?" He whispers.

"Yeah. I'm here." You repeat, smiling at him even though the urge to cry builds in the back of your throat. It broke your heart to see him like this. You push his hair back from his face, brushing the ash from the mahogany strands.

 “Are you okay? Did I-“ Worry etches itself across his handsome face.

“I’m fine. Shhh.” You soothe, pulling him against you so your can rub his back softly and lock him in your embrace. But the truth was you were afraid. You didn’t understand what happened and couldn’t explain the look in his eyes when he went under, when he started to lose himself in his newfound powers. Ben crumbles into you, leaning his head against your shoulder as if needing it to strengthen him.

“It’s okay. Everything’s okay.” You weren’t sure the effects the blast had on him, just that he seemed unsure as to how the hell he did it.

 Where did he go in those moments?

“The twins?” Ben mumbles.

“They’re dead.” You could hear the approaching ambulances and police cars, hear the anxious chatter of the survivors outside.

We’ve got to get out of here.

“Come on. Let’s go.” You say softly rising to your feet and helping him up. Ben stumbles a step, shaking his head like he can’t catch his bearings and the worry comes roaring back. You catch him and tilt his body so he can lean on you. “Ben are you okay?” Your fingers dance against the sides of his face trying to bring his focus back to you, because you were afraid he might lose himself to whatever the hell happened before.

“I will be in a minute.” Ben takes in a shaky breath, leaning on your shoulder. "I don't know what happened."

"It's okay." His shield rises telekinetically from the rubble and into your outstretched hand that glows a brilliant purple in the dusty light. Smoke billows up from the room around you obscuring the sunlight that filters through the ruined front of the house, but you can still see the front drive already becoming swarmed with people and news crews.

Because that's exactly what Rosemary needs to see, me and Ben on the 5'oclock news. Fuck.

"Come on." You lead him back the way you can, toting his shield in your free hand, down the stairs.

When you spot Butcher, Ben straightens finally catching his bearings and takes the shield from you. Butcher looks from Ben to you, eyebrows raised.

"Sorted?"

"Yeah." Ben frowns.

You could tell that he was still a little shaky, but you knew he wasn't going to admit that to anyone, especially not to Butcher. Your gaze falls on the man from before laying on the ground, the man that Butcher had told Ben to leave.

Why did he want Ben to spare his life if Butcher was only going to beat him down?

But just as you take a step towards the man to check him for injuries, a long shadow falls on the floor at your feet.

Your eyes jolt upwards and focus on Homelander. The smell of hairspray, hair dye, and cheap cologne waft through the air at Homelander's appearance.  He's shorter than you expected him to be, not overtly muscular, but he didn't need to be. Supes with superstrength didn't need to look like body builders, and you suspected that the only reason why Homelander even had any kind of muscle was for his image as America's Hero. Then again, you never complained about Ben's muscular physique.

I don’t think anybody should complain about that and- Nope. Nope. Not thinking about that right now.

But as you stare at him there's something wrong, something that you can't place, something that tugs at the back of your mind when you look at him, almost as if you've forgotten something important.

Seeing him in person is surreal. You'd only ever seen him on the news or on billboards or on those stupid energy drinks that were sold at the bodega on the corner where you get coffee filters sometimes, but the look in his eyes is the same. It's cold, unfeeling, and reminds you of those ridiculous shark documentaries that Rosemary is obsessed with. The only time she could watch shark week was after Lou went to bed. She said that watching it made her feel better about her job and you didn't complain.

Homelander looks around the room forcing a smile, a predatory glare in his eyes.

"William Butcher and Soldier Boy. Of course you are behind this. It really is all about me." Homelander's smile widens.

Narcissistic much? This guy's like a walking red flag.

He takes a step closer to the three of you, and Ben steps in front of you to shield you from Homelander's view. Homelander clocks the movement, but then tsks his finger at Butcher.

"William we made a deal to fight to the death, you and me." Homelander's eyes begin to glow. "You cheated, deals off."

The red flash of the laser-vision illuminates Ben's face in sharp contrast as the beam hits Butcher full in the chest propelling him back into the wall. His body falls to the ground and lies still.

Well. That's not good.

Honestly you didn't like Butcher all that much, but you couldn't help but feel a little bit bad.

You glance up from Butcher's body to gaze at Homelander again. Fighting him hadn't been on the agenda today, but it was starting to look that way. You knew what his powers were, knew that Vought probably told him his entire life that he was a god and that no one could compare to him. And you knew that the man standing next to you hadn't changed enough to walk away from the fight, no matter how bad his odds were.

And deep down you knew that you weren't going to let Ben take that beating, which of course meant that you were going to fight Homelander. Not that you were afraid of him. One look at him might have sent everyone else heading for the hills, but he didn't intimidate you.

"I watched all your movies, hundreds of times. You were the only one that was nearly as strong as me." The look on Homelander's face is one of respect almost wonder.

And you can imagine a smaller version of Homelander being fed all the same propaganda that Ben and you were fed all those years ago, imagine Homelander growing up hearing that he was stronger, greater, faster than Soldier Boy, and imagine Vogelbaum working hard to make sure to mold Homelander into the hero that America wanted. Not to mention all the shit he probably heard when he was with Stormfront. You were very happy that you didn't have to see her again, though now you had a fun story to tell Ben about one of his exes.

“Buddy you’re wearing a cape, do you think you look strong?” Ben frowns at Homelander.

“It is pretty stupid.” You agree examining Homelander’s supe suit. “Honestly I thought you had it bad with that dorky looking helmet-“ You glance at Ben out of the corner of your eye.

“Really? You’re gonna do this now?” Ben glowers turning his attention to you.

“I’m just being honest it was pretty bad and I’m glad you decided not to wear it today. But his cape is definitely worse.”

“Do you want me to bring up that ridiculous hood you had?”

“You can, but I won’t believe you, because that hood was fabulous and I looked fantastic in it.”

Homelander clears his throat to catch your attention. “Um hello?”

“Hi.” You force a smile. “Oh sorry did we interrupt your little monologue?”

Homelander's gaze turns icy as you continue. “Because we can take this from the top. What was the line again? Something about power or watching his films? I was only half listening. Did you want me to record it for you so you can post it on your socials?”

“What the f-“ Homelander begins to say, but you interrupt him.

“I mean. That is why you practiced it in the mirror for so long right? And why you did your hair and makeup?" You scrunch up your nose. "I'd skip that last mist of hairspray if I were you. You want it to look smooth, not look like you stuck your finger in an electrical socket.”

You could tell that Ben was trying to maintain his composure, but his mouth was twitching in a smile. “Oh wait does your suit have a body cam? I guess that makes things easier, because it probably doesn't have pockets. Not to mention if you dropped your phone while you were flying around-"

"Who the fuck are you?" Homelander spits interrupting you.

"No one important."

“Is he really what passes for a hero these days?” Ben cocks an eyebrow. “He’s just a cheap fucking knock off of me.”

“No.” Homelander snarls, eyes beginning to glow bright red. “I’m the upgrade.”

The laser cuts through the air in slow motion, but you’re already moving.

"Ben!" His name rips from your throat as you lunge forward and shove him as hard as you can out of the way of the beam. You feel the laser tear through your body, the force throwing you backward through one of the wood paneled walls and then the darkness swallows you whole.

If someone were to ask you what it was like to die, you wouldn’t know how to answer. To exist in those thirteen seconds sometimes feels like a dream, like you're floating, but it's always silent. And the silence scares you. How quickly it comes to drag you under and how it seems to replace everything you know or remember about the real world until you come back to life. You understood why Ben didn't like being alone, because you didn't either. It reminded you too much of those moments you were gone, wishing for it to stop. There was never a bright light, there was only the darkness and the silence that fell when your heart stopped beating.

When you take your first breath in thirteen seconds it's full of dust and ash, swirling into your mouth as you inhale sharply to jumpstart your lungs. But at the same time everything is different. The colors in the room are brighter, the sounds more acute, the smells just a fraction stronger, and you feel different. Power floods through your limbs, swirling through flesh and bone, pouring through your veins, electrifying through each nerve ending and setting you on fire, more than any other power ever has. You'd never felt power like this before. Even with Countess and the others that had killed you, no other power you'd ever gotten had felt this strong.

You stand up from the rubble you landed in, covered in a layer of dust and blood. The hole in your new outfit where the laser struck is just under your left breast, the mark left behind already a pink scar. And you knew that Ben would probably kill you for it later, for taking the laser for him, but you didn't care.

Homelander is floating in the center of the room, holding Ben by the throat, smiling cruelly at him.

"Hey asshole." You snarl, spitting out a glob of blood onto the ruined carpet. "We're not done."

Homelander turns his head towards you amused, while Ben grabs at the front of his suit, trying to get his attention, but Homelander is focused on you.

"So that's it? That's your big trick? Laser vision? Forgive me for not cowering in fear." Your hands clench into fists at your sides.

He eyes you for a moment. "You're Indigo aren't you?"

"I used to be. Now I'm just disappointed. I expected more from Vought's big hero, but now I see that you're just another asshole who thinks he's a god." Your eyes drift to Ben for a moment, worry clawing at your heart when you meet his gaze. "So drop him. Before I drop you."

"You’re very confident for someone who was dead a few seconds ago. I don't really see how that ability is going to help you-"

"Before I didn’t want to kill you."

"And you think you can?" He laughs.

"No." You smirk. "I know I can."

"Who do you think you’re talking to?"

"I’m not talking to much." Your eyes narrow. "But I'll be nice, and I'll give you a chance to leave. To tuck your tail between your fucking legs and fly away. We didn't come here for you and you and I don't have to do this."

"And if I don't leave?"

"Then I'll kill you."

"I'd like to see you try." Homelander throws Ben as hard as he can through the brick fireplace, causing rock and mortar to rain down on top of him, but Homelander's eyes don't leave yours. “Well why don’t you give me your best sho-“

He doesn’t have time to finish his sentence, your body ploughs into his tackling him through the solid outer wall and onto the back lawn.

Truthfully you hadn’t meant to go through the wall, you’d only meant to pin him to it, but flying was proving just a little more difficult than you expected. Your hand closes on Homelander’s wrist bringing him down against the ground so hard that the earth quakes, before you throw him as far away from you as you can.

His body spins awkwardly in the air, before he ploughs into one of the thick oak trees head on, at the edge of the backyard. The loud snap of the tree compensating for Homelander’s body fills the air.

He stumbles to his feet, eyes narrowed in pure hatred, lip curled back in a snarl, and his blonde hair flopping forward into his face.

“You chose wrong.” You spit, rolling your shoulders, preparing for what came next.

Homelander lets out a roar and flies towards you, arms outstretched for you, but you’re ready for him.

You catch his fist before it lands against your face and tighten your other hand around his throat. Your bodies are floating two feet off the ground, but it doesn’t faze you.

When Homelander’s gaze meets yours you see just a flicker of fear, a spark, quickly masked by his shock. He struggles to pull away to push you away with his free hand, but all you do is tighten your grip.

 "You've never felt real pain before have you?" You force your face into a sympathetic frown, before your eyes harden. "Allow me to enlighten you."  You throw him to the ground again, watching his body spin and screech against the grass and dirt.

 Given the screams and smell of blood in the air, any witnesses from the massacre inside were at the front of the house waiting for the police, leaving you and Homelander on the backside of the house alone.

Worry for Ben rose in your chest like the peak of a wave, you hadn't seen him since Homelander threw him through the fireplace, but you funnel that worry into all encompassing rage.

"They told you that you were a god right? That you were the most powerful supe that ever lived. They were wrong. There's only one supe more powerful than you, and you just fucking pissed her off." You shout beginning to float towards him.

Homelander growls rising to his feet, eyes glowing bright red as he fires a laser at you, but you’re ready.

Your own beam catches his mid air between you, the high pitched sizzle and smell of ozone floats across your face, but you don't back down. If anything, it just makes you more angry.

And then something slams into you from the side, breaking the connection between your beam and Homelander's.

"What-" You shout, looking up at the body above yours, preparing to blast them off, but you realize it's Ben. "Ben what-"

"Stay here." He growls, eyes black. Ben looks pissed, whether it’s because you pushed Ben out of the way before or if it’s because he’s annoyed that Homelander punched him you’re not sure.

"What?" You look beyond him, to see Hughie and Butcher tackle Homelander to the ground.

They're going to try to turn him human.

"I can hold him down-" You say. “Let me help.”

"No." Ben snarls as he stalks towards Homelander, his chest beginning to glow.

“Ben-“

“Stay the fuck there.” Ben shouts still looking at Homelander.

Your eyes flit to the leader of the Seven. Watching him struggle against Hughie and Butcher, who yell at one another, but you don’t hear them. You wait for the remorse to crash over you, the guilt, but it never comes.

I gave him a choice. He could have run. He didn’t. He chose this.

And just when you think it’s all over, Homelander breaks away from them, surging up into the air to freedom. You feel your feet leave the ground to follow him, someone’s hand tightens on your ankle and drags you back down to earth.

“No.” Ben’s voice is more of a growl than anything else.

He’s angry, that much you can tell from the look on his face and from the way his eyes have hardened into two solid chunks of emerald as he locks eyes with you.

But why? Angry because Homelander got away or angry because I pushed him out of the way?

“Ben I can get him. Let me go.” You kick your ankle but Ben holds on.

“No.” Ben snarls. “You’re not about to go after that sick fuck by yourself.”

“Ben-“

“No. If I have to chain you to the ground I will.” Ben pulls you down further and releases your ankle to  fasten his hand around you waist to hold you tighter against the ground. “You’re not going after him.”

“Fine.” You snap pulling yourself from his grasp, your own temper flaring.

You hated when Ben did that, when he acted like you weren’t just as capable as him of doing this. It reminded you of your childhood, when you were treated like you were made of glass, a pretty doll that was made to be looked at but never touched.

And you knew it came from Ben’s want to protect you, knew that it came from his fear of losing you, but that didn’t make it any less annoying.

You didn’t pout when Ben went out to face someone, didn’t try to act like he couldn’t do it.

“I know that maybe I’m a little behind but… WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?” Hughie shouts. “You have laser vision and you can fly and you can move things with your mind!?” He looks frantically from you to Ben.

You don’t answer, your eyes are still on Ben who looks ready to throw Butcher’s car into space. You could practically see the waves of anger rolling off of him like a comic strip.

“You didn’t before, did you?” Butcher’s eyes trace your body as things begin to click into place. “You didn’t before he killed you.”

“Hold on.” Hughie holds up his hand. “Are you telling me that you die and you come back to life WITH THE POWERS OF THE SUPE THAT KILLED YOU?”

“It wasn’t in the files.” Butcher’s eyes still haven’t left you. “Vought didn’t know did they?”

You don’t like the way he’s looking at you, don’t like the glimmer in his eyes as if you’d just solved all his problems. It was the exact look that was in the eyes of the scientists the day you took the serum for the first time. To them that’s all Ben and you were, lab rats, people who were stupid enough to listen to the wild ideas of glory and a better world they spouted.

“We should go.” You murmur, listening to the sounds of the ambulances and the police coming up the driveway. “It’s about to be a circus here and I'd rather not make my big social media debut covered in rubble and blood."

Ben’s mouth is clamped together, green eyes blazing at your mention of blood. You knew that he was focused on the bloody hole left behind in the corset where Homelander's laser had ripped through your body.

Another scar, another fun story to tell my daughter when I see her… great.

*****************************************

The car ride to Legend’s is dead silent. Ben doesn’t look at you, doesn’t try to hold your hand, and doesn’t try to touch you in any way. Instead his hands are curled into fists, sitting on the tops of his thighs while his anger heats the inside of the car like a furnace. You knew it was only a matter until he exploded, but now you had bigger things on your mind.

You had just exposed yourself to Homelander, showed your face to him, not to mention you admitted to being Indigo. It would be easy for him to find your real name in the Vought archives find your file and the same name that linked you to Rosemary. She’d gone back to her maiden name when her husband died, which meant the two of you had the same last name and it wouldn’t be difficult for Homelander to find her.

Which meant you needed to get to her first.

You had tried to text her, tried to tell her to have a bag ready and that you were going to pick her up, but she was refusing to do so and you didn’t exactly want to text “Homelander is a fucking psychopath and he’s going to come after you” to her phone. Plus you couldn’t exactly call her, not in this cramped car.

Legend is waiting on the front porch of his country home when Butcher pulls his car into the end of the long driveway, somewhere that you’d been to many times in the past. He's smoking a joint and scrolling through his phone, wearing the same outfit you had seen him in a few days ago.

"Kitten!" He smiles wide at you when he sees you and pulls you into a hug. “I was worried when I heard about that mess with Countess. You never called.” Legend frowns at you, blowing out a lungful of smoke. "Guess you guys had a talk."

"Something like that." You frown. "It got complicated really fast."

“I told you so.” His eyes shift to where Ben is glowering a foot behind you. "I see he found you. I didn't tell him-"

"I know you didn't. Thank you for keeping your promise." You smile tightly, squeezing Legend's hand. He really was a good friend. One of the oldest ones you had besides Ben.

"Figured if I did, you'd keep him from ripping my head off."

“Haven’t decided if I’m not going to yet.” Ben snarls and Legend's eyes widen in fear.

But you knew that he was just redirecting his anger. Ben was angry because you put yourself in harms way to protect him and the sooner you had it out, the sooner you could go get Rosemary and Lou.

"Ben we both know that you're not mad at Legend, you're mad at me. So you might as well spit it out, because we've got bigger problems than your hissy fit-" You begin to say. You were sick of him pouting, refusing to look at you, refusing to touch you.

"What the FUCK were you thinking?!" Ben roars towering over you, eyes flashing. "Getting between me and him like that!"

Legend backs away, afraid that he's going to get caught in the cross-fire.

"Calm down." You sigh, gritting your teeth together. You were trying your best not to lose it either, because the last thing this situation needed was you losing control.

"DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN." Ben's hands are clenched tightly into fists, his suit beginning to glow bright.

"You're going to have to calm down or you're going to blast me to kingdom come!" You snap back.

Ben grits his teeth together and closes his eyes tightly while his chest begins to fade back to normal and when it does, he opens his eyes to glare at you. "Why did you do that? I had him handled-"

"You didn't."

"Yes I did. You didn't give me a chance to-"

"No what I did was I didn't give that psychopath a chance to punch a hole through your chest with his fucking laser vision." You poke him in the chest. "Of the two of us, I have a greater chance of surviving that!”

By then Butcher and Hughie had moved to give the two of you a wide berth, standing where Legend was watching the two of you looking bored. They were probably hoping that you didn’t cut one of them in half with your new powers.

"Are they always like this?" You hear Butcher ask Legend from where they stand a safe distance away.

"Pretty much." Legend answers, blowing out a puff of the fowl smelling smoke.

"Do you ever get used to it?" Hughie mutters.

"Nope."

“Is there an off button?” Butcher sighs.

“Nope.” Legend puffs his joint.

"You don't know that!" Ben spits back at you. "I could have!"

"I wasn't willing to take that chance damnit!"

How can I make him understand this? How can he finally understand what it would be like for me to lose him all over again, just when I got him back?

"Do you really think that I'm willing to play Russian Roulette with your life?" Ben snarls, grabbing you by the shoulders so tightly you're sure they'll be bruises but all you can do is look into his quickly darkening eyes. "Do you have any idea what it did to me to see you die AGAIN? To see him TOUCH YOU? To know that he HURT you?"

"We've already had this conversation Ben-"

"And we're going to fucking have it again!" His grip tightens. "I told you to stay behind me!"

The last time he'd touched you like this was the night of the premiere, when he told you that he didn't care about you, that he could never love you. The memory of that night lodges itself in the back of your throat, but you keep it down.

"And I told you that I wasn't going to do that!"

"Damn it y/n you can't-"

You pull yourself away from him. "No Ben. You can't tell me what to do. You don't get to control me. People have tried to control me all my damn life and when I first came with you I thought I was giving that up. But no, I just moved on and Vought took over. When I decided to live my own life, to stop being a supe, I was free! Finally! After forty years of bullshit I was finally free!"

Ben’s jaw is so tightly locked together you think you hear the grinding of his teeth. “So what are you saying? Are you saying that when you’re with me you feel trapped? Like I’m holding you fucking hostage?!”

“No.” You exhale heavily. "I understand that you love me. I understand that you want to protect me. But you need to understand that I love you too. That just as you're willing to lay down your life for me, I am willing to lay down my life for you. And if you want this to work between us, you need to understand that you don't control me. You're not my dad or my owner, you're the man I love. And until you realize that I am just as capable of protecting you as you are protecting me-"

"I know that." Ben seethes.

"What?"

"Do you really think that I don't see how strong you are?” You watch something flash in his eyes that isn't anger, the vulnerable look is back for a fleeting moment and it rocks you to your core. "I don’t want to control you! I’m not trying to. Have you thought that maybe after all this time I just wanted you to need me like I need you?"

His confession makes your heart stop. Does he really think that I don’t need him? That after all these years there’s no one else that I’ve needed more in my entire life?

“Ben.” You sigh while stretching out your hand to lay against his arm, but he flinches away. “ I do need you. You have no idea how much I need you, no idea what it did to me when I lost you even after everything that happened. I just don’t want you to treat me like I’m made of glass.”

“I don’t treat you like you’re-“ He begins to say.

“Yes. You do. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to protect me, but you have to understand that I want to protect you too.”

He huffs out a breath, shoulders tensed, arms crossed over his muscular chest. “I do understand that. I just hate it when you do that, that you push me out of the way. I hate when you get hurt.”

“And I hate when you get hurt." You bite the inside of your cheek. "You say that you were angry that Homelander hurt me, but did you stop to consider what it did to me to see him try to hurt you? Do you know what it did to me to see him touch you?”

Ben stands there for a minute glaring down at you, before his gaze begins to soften. “No.” He grumbles.

“Exactly.”

You both stand there for a minute eyeing one another, daring the other to break the silence.

This is ridiculous.

Finally Ben, sighs out a breath and jerks you forward against his chest. The hug would be bone crushing for anyone else, but not to you.

“You’re so fucking annoying.” He mutters into the top of your head, while his body curves around yours.

“I love you too asshole.” You huff, hugging him back just as tight.

“See they always work it out.” Legend shrugs at Butcher. “Takes them a while to get there. They made my job so much harder in the 70’s. Though I will say it’s a relief that they’re finally admitting they love each other. Way too much sexual tension before, gave me anxiety.”

Ben pulls back to look at your face with another loud sigh. He still looks a little angry, but not angry enough to start shouting again. His thumb strokes against your cheek. “Are you okay?”

You nod once leaning into his touch. “Are you?” You brush back some of his dark hair out of his face, looking for bruises but you don’t see any.

“Yeah.” He nods.

“If the two of you are done, we have bigger things to worry about-“ Butcher begins to say.

“We are and we do.” You interrupt looking away from Ben to stare at Butcher. “I need to borrow your car.”

“Why?”

“I need to go back to the city.”

“What?” Ben sputters releasing you from his grasp.

“And I think it would be better if I went alone-“ You continue slowly.

Honestly you did think that it would be better if you went alone, but you didn’t want to. You wanted Ben to come with you, the problem was Rosemary.

“Like hell I’m letting you go alone with that son of a  bitch flying around!” Ben shouts, temper flaring again.

“Which is why I have to go.” You try to say it diplomatically, try to have him understand without having to explain it. But there’s really no way around it, around any of this.

“No.”

“Ben please c-"

“Don’t tell me to calm down again! I’m not being crazy. You’re not going after him!” His eyes blaze a brilliant green, as he crosses his hands over his chest.

“Ben-“

“Why can’t you listen to me for once?”

“BEN!” You shout, grabbing his face and holding his cheeks between your palms to catch his attention.

“What?” Ben’s eyes lock with yours.

“I’m not going to the city to go after Homelander.”

He pauses confused. “Then why are you-“

And you just can’t take it anymore. You can’t hold it in any longer, can’t think of a way to tell him without just ripping the bandaid off. Your eyes meet his, apologetic, determined, and just a little bit fearful.

“I’m going back into the city to get our daughter.”

A/N: I know I know, it's been a while and honestly I didn't mean to get hit by writer's block this bad 😂😭

But it kinda works out, because what better way to celebrate Father's Day than to tell Soldier Boy that he's a dad?

As always thank you so much for reading! There are big things coming! And thank so much for the love and support! If you'd like to be added to the taglist please let me know :)

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[woobly]

THERE SHE GOES . . . 한태산 !

PAIRING. taesan x crocheter! gn reader GENRE. fluff, uni au, strangers to ??? WARNINGS. both are in uni but no scenes about school itself lol WC. 1.4k

𓂋˚˖ A/N. lichrally dunno what this is, i just word vomited 😭 i was actually gonna make another acc bc i got kinda shy to post here again but im too lazy to do that so here we are, ig im a onedoor now too 😆 𓂋˚˖ NOW PLAYING. there she goes by the la’s

THE FIRST TIME TAESAN SEES YOU, you were casually walking into the train car along with the rest of the morning rush. One of your hands was clutched onto your bag while the other was inside the pocket of your black puffer jacket.

He wasn’t thinking about anything in particular. It was too early in the morning, and the music playing in his ears drowned all his thoughts out while on the way to his first class.

But upon seeing you, he was immediately awakened from his morning daze and stood up from his seat. Watching you switch places with him to stand beside your seated figure, he thinks he saw you say thank you, but he’s not sure.

Not thinking much of his gesture of giving up his seat, he looked out toward the city passing by outside. That was until the train entered another tunnel, and he was forced to look at something else; you, in his peripheral vision, had suddenly brought out a crochet needle and some yarn.

He was pleasantly surprised. People were usually on their phones while on the train, while here you were, your hands half buried in your jacket as they worked on some yarn as if you were in your own little world.

He wasn’t actually sure if you were crocheting or knitting or what. He had only overheard from the other students in his classes about how they crocheted in their free time, but he had never actually seen anyone do it.

He tilted his head once in a while to watch you, trying his best not to act like a creep. Not that you would notice anyway. He did this until he had to step off at his stop first.

The second time Taesan sees you, it was a Saturday. He unfortunately had a class in the morning, and he was on the way home after having lunch with his friends and spending some time in the library.

You were already seated on the train, hands busy once again. It wasn’t rush hour, so Taesan took a seat across from you.

You seemed to be counting something, perhaps the stitches, based on the way your mouth was moving. You furrowed your eyebrows, looking closer at your project, before pulling at the string of yarn exasperatedly. He was curious about what just happened, smiling at your frustration.

He caught himself glancing at you from time to time again. And this time, you almost caught him looking at you.

He saw you again a few times after that, to the point that he’s learned where to sit or stand so that he can see your reflection in the window to avoid being caught looking at you directly. He’s even learned what days of the week you usually share train rides.

At first, it was a little freaky how the two of you managed to be on the same train at the same time a few times a week, let alone the same car. But after a while, he started looking for you, wondering where you had gone on days when he’d usually seen you.

Months had gone by like that, Taesan watching you work on what seemed like different projects from a distance.

However, this time it was a little different. There were no other available seats except the one right beside you. There was still some space on the metal bars to hold on to, but something told him to take that seat (perhaps it’s the voices in his head aka Leehan urging him to do something about his little train crush; Taesan always denies it by saying it’s not a crush).

This time, it was difficult to see your face, so he could only look at your hands. He tried so hard to be subtle, but he supposes he wasn’t subtle enough because you suddenly put your needle and yarn down on your lap and took something out from your bag.

“Hey, I uh… made something for you,”

You were now looking at his wide eyes, a rush of different emotions suddenly coursing through him. Ashamed because you noticed him watching; touched because you made something for a stranger like him; and shy because you were talking to a guy like him.

He finally looked at your open hand that delicately held a stuffed black cat keychain.

“Is this a cat?”

“Yeah, that’s you,” you said as you smiled tightly. You acknowledge that he was a good-looking guy, but there was still something about him that intimidated you a little. “Um, I’m sorry if that offends you. I made it based on the vibe you gave off, but I don’t mean to stereotype based on the clothes you wear. Not that I made you a black cat because you always wear black, but the dark hair covering your eyes a little also kinda—,” you rambled, stopping when you see the look on his face and realizing you might have said too much.

Taesan chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m not offended. May I ask why…?”

“Um… no reason,” you shrugged with another tight smile, trying to mask the blatant lie you just told him.

“Well, I’m honored. This is really cute,” Taesan smiled, looking at you then at anything but you.

You finally smiled with a more relaxed expression, lips pursing to keep yourself from smiling too widely.

“I figured it wouldn’t hurt to give it to you after already making it, plus you sat here today,”

The truth is, you also noticed him that first time. You noticed his repeated presence the same way he did. When he was looking outside, you looked around the train car only for your gaze to land on him. You actually lied when you said you made a keychain for him. It’s actually a gift meant for one of your friends, but you decided at the last minute to use it to shoot your shot—you could always make another one. If he realized that you were also watching him from what you just said, then he was nice enough to not bring it up.

“This is crochet, right?” Taesan asked as he looked around his bag for a place to hang the keychain.

“Yup! I like to do arts and crafts as a pastime, and crocheting is the most… mindless one for me—for lack of a better word,” you both chuckled. “But it also keeps me from falling asleep when I commute alone. That’s why I mostly do it on the train,”

Taesan nods, his mind still processing what was happening.

“You go to Hybe U, right? Saw your ID,”

You looked down at your lanyard and held it. “Oh yeah. You?”

“I go to KOZ,” Your eyes light up in recognition as it’s the college not far from yours.

“We should—“ “If it’s—“ you both say at the same time.

Chuckling, Taesan gestures for you to go first.

“We should hang out some time… is what I was gonna say,” you smiled, looking at the boy beside you.

“Yeah, I’d like that. And I was gonna say that if it’s any help, I could wake you up at your stop,”

You frowned in confusion. “But you get off first,”

“It’s okay. I have time before class,” Taesan smiled shyly, unsure what to do with himself after making such an offer.

You looked away, realizing the boy wasn’t as intimidating as you thought.

“Well, I’ll hold you to that.”

BONUS:

True enough, by midterms season, you spent most of your train rides asleep on Taesan’s shoulder. You started falling asleep in the middle of crocheting more often to the point that you stopped carrying your projects altogether and opted to indulge in Taesan’s insistence.

The both of you were on the way home when he was reminiscing about his conversation with his friends earlier that day.

“Look at you. Who would’ve thought you out of all people would carry so many keychains on their bag?” Leehan commented after the boy in question mentioned how that first black cat keychain was apparently not even meant for him. You told him after a while that you gave it to him in the spur of the moment as an excuse to talk to him.

“Yeah, it’s kinda funny seeing you in your band shirts then you turn around and suddenly there’s a bunch of colorful animals and characters. Personally, I really like the Sanrio ones,” Sungho said teasingly. “Plus the way I just know it’s you when you enter a room because your bag is so noisy,”

“It’s not funny, Y/N made them! The plastic ones they also got for me,” Taesan blurted in faux offense, smiling and internally agreeing with the older boy.

“Yeah no, it’s cute actually,” Sungho said before bursting into laughter.

“Then ask Y/N for one. Actually no, don’t do that,” his friends chuckled at him.

“Then make one for me,”

“You know, I’ve already asked them to teach me. But I sucked so bad, and Y/N fell asleep while waiting for me.” Taesan chuckled while recalling the first time you hung out at the library.

“Man, he’s got it pretty bad.”

© woobly, 2025. all rights reserved.

[nmakii]

once upon a dream

— yukimiya’s been dreaming about a mysterious girl for a week and a half now. and, you haven’t been able to sleep. what happens when you finally talk? love at first sight.

stp i wrote this insane in like 7 hours icb this is 3.4k words!!! wtf i dont even like yukki that much 😭 this is j word vomit bro AHHAA

you were familiar with the mortal god known as kenyu yukimiya. he was everything your friends wanted in a boyfriend. he was kind, charismatic, gentlemanly, not to mention extremely handsome.

his status as a teenage model and athlete didn’t help his popularity either. girls were always asking him to hang out (hint: ‘hang out’ means ‘date’), to which he always agreed, even offering to pay for them.

that’s just how he was.

and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t fallen under his siren spell too. not when his charming smile kept luring you closer to your death.

but, you could never pull him! not in a million years. with the status quo as it is, you two are in two different worlds.

at least, that’s what you think.

to yukimiya, you were familiar, perhaps even special. he saw you once in passing while you were leaving your classroom, and he suddenly had a sense of deja vu; it was as if he’s already lived this before. it could always just be nothing. it could just be stress since nationals is coming up soon.

but even so, you still catch his eye. he’s always wanted to talk to you, but he’s had the secret anxiety that you wouldn’t be too interested in talking to him. so, he enjoys the short times he see you pass him in the hallway, or coincidentally pick the lunch table beside his in the cafeteria.

but, he still feels as if there’s more to it than just a friend crush. the way you carry yourself, and the tone of your voice— it all makes him feel a familiar way.

his dreams as of late have revolved around a faceless girl. he can never recall her face after he wakes, but he always awakens with a sense that a part of him is missing.

it’s late in the day, 20 minutes before 6 PM. and, training has just finished. yukimiya catches his breath as he takes off his goggles, switching them out for his everyday glasses.

“…see you, guys!” he bids to the rest of his team, taking his leave with his school bag and training gear in hand.

the walk home is silent. before black spots begin to appear in his vision. ‘damn it…’ he thinks, ‘right now of all times..?’. he internally groans before hurrying his pace, quickly making it home.

he takes off his shoes and calls, “mom! i’m home!”.

his mother hums in acknowledgment and responds, “kenyu, we’re having katsu curry for dinner!” ah, that sounds delicious…

“alright..! i’m gonna go lie down for a bit though. my vision is a bit blurry again…” he comes into the kitchen, greeted with the salivating smell of his mother’s homemade curry.

“dear, if that’s the case, go rest for a while. i’ll save you a portion, alright?” his mother smiles. yukimiya frowns a bit but he nonetheless, obeys. “alright, mom. i’ll just take a nap.”

he sighs as he climbs the stairs up to his bedroom, and flops onto his bed. today was exhausting, he almost immediately falls asleep.

he looks around— he’s back at school. the sun outside looks as if it’s about to set, so classes must be over. but, he’s still in a classroom.

he leans on a desk, while the familiar faceless girl sits on one of the chairs. “…hm… so, blueberries improve your eyesight, huh..?” she hums. he’s not quite sure what got him in this moment, but he nods. “that’s right. they strengthen the blood vessels behind the eyes.”

something about her was ethereal, have it be the delicate way she presents herself, or the way her hair gracefully frames her blurred face. whatever it was, the only thing that could come to mind when he saw her painted orange and pink by the setting sun was, ‘divine’.

“hah, maybe you’d benefit better from chocolate-covered blueberries rather than chocolate-covered strawberries then.” she snickers.

“ahah, i wouldn’t hate that too much… why not?” he shrugs, laughing as well. there’s a scary tension in his shoulders, he feels pretty stiff. he feels pretty nervous— it feels like dread, but at the same time as if he has swallowed a kaleidoscope of butterflies, fluttering their way into his heart.

“really? maybe i’ll get you a box of chocolate-covered blueberries for valentines’ day then!” she innocuously proclaims this, unknown to the fact that yukimiya’s heart gets caught in his throat.

“i..is that so? i guess that just means i’ll have to return the favor on white day.” he hums, retrieving his school bag and training gear which had been thrown carelessly on a random desk.

his body was moving, but not to his mind’s command. why was he leaving?

he turned his back to face the mysterious girl again. a lithe hand moves to cover her mouth as she yawns, small pearlescent tears forming atop her lower eyelid.

her speech gets slurred. and his dream fades to black.

when yukimiya awakens, it’s 1:14 AM. talk about an after-school nap…

he scowls. his dream ended so suddenly, he has the desire for closure to give rest to the many ‘what if’ scenarios for what she could have said. ‘what was she going to say? was she asking why i was leaving?’ he wonders.

putting his disappointment aside, yukimiya decides to go and shower first. he leaves his room and goes into the bathroom beside the stairs to shower. all before changing into some clean clothes.

putting on a clean t-shirt, yukimiya sighs. clean clothes felt good. his stomach gurgles, and he groans at the sound. he did sleep for 7 hours. he shouldn’t be too shocked that he’s starved.

making his way down the stairway, he goes into the kitchen and finds a plate of katsu curry and rice being covered by one of his mother’s large baking bowls. there’s condensation of steam dripping from the metallic bowl from when the dish had been warm. the katsu by now has lost its’ crunch after absorbing the curry, and the rice isn’t quite as sticky anymore.

it’s not ideal, but yukimiya doesn’t have it in himself to complain. he can’t do anything about it anyways.

he throws the plate into the microwave to heat for two minutes. and as the dish spins on the microwave’s glass plate, his mind wanders back to his dream. now, he could only vaguely recall details, but he knew that it felt real. the sensation of his school bag’s rough fabric, and the sound of her melodic voice pouring into his ears— it all felt real.

the microwave beeps, and his train of thought is quickly stopped as he takes his food out of the microwave, and sits lonely at the dining table.

‘geez, this is depressing…’ he internally sighs. he might as well stay up until he has to get ready for school.

in another home however, you’ve only fallen asleep. you’d been closing your eyes, as well as tossing and turning in your bed for about 3 hours now, unable to fall asleep. you’ve tried everything— sleep ASMRs, melatonin candies… but, none of them have been able to help you sleep earlier.

it’s been like this for a week and a half now. you’ve noticed the dark circles under your eyes are much more pronounced now, making you resemble an undead creature, rather than a high school student.

your friends have been teasing you with a corny, deluded saying— “if you can’t sleep, then it’s probably because there’s someone dreaming about you.”, they say. what nonsense! it was more likely that it’s the stress of your projects, than someone dreaming about you.

nonetheless, you simply relish in the fact that you’re now asleep. not dreaming about anything in particular, just having a sort of good night’s sleep.

you groan when your alarm on your phone goes off. it sounds like an emergency alert system alarm. your father suggested after the first two times you were late last week due to oversleeping. your hand mindlessly moves, looking to turn off the irritating noise.

when it’s finally off, you lie in your bed for an extra minute or two. your body feels so stiff, everything hurts…

your heavy eyes open once again, and you turn your head far enough to see your phone and check the time. 6:18, did you oversleep for 20 minutes? you should get ready soon…

you reluctantly get out from your comfortable bed and stretch, cracking all the stiff bones in your body. you go about your daily routine and go on your way to school. you walk hurriedly, in hopes of taking a quick cat nap before classes start.

that hope is sadly not reached, as you only arrive just about a minute or two before the bell rings.

you manage to soldier through the day, staying up and diligently taking notes, as well as taking a very well-deserved nap during lunch. it really is a feat— for you, at least.

the day goes by horrifyingly slow, and having to stay late for club these days is a nightmare. as much as you want to say you’ve been putting all your effort into club activities, you really have been idling through until the time runs out.

sitting in one of the desks, you’re chatting with one of your club mates as your club president approaches you, “ah, sorry to bother you, but there’s a box on my desk in classroom 3-6, could you get it for me please..? i’m a bit busy to do it myself..” she explains.

“hm..? ah, sure. don’t worry.” you nod in response. she sighs, relieved that you aren’t too annoyed. “yay! thank you!” she hums, and you set on your way to classroom 3-6.

you climb your way up to the third floor, and let yourself inside the classroom. you quickly identify your president’s desk by the large box filled with goodies. “oh?” an airy yet warm voice hums. “what are you doing here?”

you turn your back and see yukimiya; bags in hand and everything..! “ah, hey..!” you awkwardly greet him. you’re not quite sure what you should say. “just… doing a favor. what about you?”

“i just forgot my lunchbox before i went down for training.” he hums, quickly grabbing his aforementioned lunchbox. at the mention of a lunchbox, you perk up. you hadn’t eaten at lunch, so you were awfully hungry. “ah..! you looked at me the second i mentioned my lunchbox!” he chuckled. “are you hungry? all i have is some packaged snacks.” he warns. he carelessly drops his school bag and training gear on another desk, and starts to move in your direction. all whilst opening the lunchbox, looking for something that you could to snack on.

you awkwardly laugh, embarrassed that he caught you. “honestly, i’ll take anything… thanks, yukimiya.” you graciously take the packaged rice cracker snack from his hands. yukimiya hums, “call me yukki; my friends call me that, and it’s much less formal too.”

your eyes go down, downcast to avoid eye contact.

a popular boy just told you to call him a nickname his friends call him..! is this what it’s like to have a love life..?!

as your eyes remain low, you catch a glimpse of a stained container, it looks as if barney the dinosaur had died in it. “what did you have for your recess? it looks messy…” you bluntly ask, not even thinking that it was probably a bit weird to ask.

“oh? i just had some blueberries. they were pretty lukewarm by the time break time came, though..! some of them got crushed. hence, the mess…” he laughs.

“blueberries? …i’ve never really liked the taste. or… it’s more like the lack of taste…” you place the box on a random desk and sit on a chair. you could kill some time, club was technically over anyways. he raises an eyebrow at your words, “really? i think they’re pretty good. plus, they help with my eyesight.”

“your eyesight? is it that bad? i feel like i only started seeing you wear glasses about two months ago.” yukimiya looks hesitant to answer, you probably crossed some sensitive territory…

“ah… not exactly… i guess, i just want to maintain my vision as it is. so it won’t get worse, is all.” he explains, and you nod. “ah, that makes sense.”

there’s an awkward moment of silence. where do you go from this..?

“…hm… so, blueberries improve your eyesight, huh..?” you clarify, hoping that he’d go into further detail. he pauses for a second. his muscles grow tense, as if he has realized something. but, he nods. “that’s right. they strengthen the blood vessels behind the eyes.”

he’s lived this before. his nails claw on the desk, itching to ground himself to reality.

this isn’t a dream.

this is real life.

and, he’s finally talking to the faceless girl.

like in his dream, he turns his head, and sees you painted orange and pink by the fading sunset. you look even more exquisite now that he can see and recognize your face. your eyes shine in contrast to the setting sun, and your lips quiver, as you try to think of something to say.

your hair is a bit more messier than in his dream. and your posture is quite stiff— no, awkward is a better word. your frame is awkward and anxious, he thinks. but, you still look just as divine as he dreamed you to be.

“hah, maybe you’d benefit better from chocolate-covered blueberries rather than chocolate-covered strawberries then.” you laugh.

“ahah, i wouldn’t hate that too much… so, why not?” he shrugs. again, that pesky nervousness in his shoulders is back. seeing the girl he has, quite literally, dreamed of for a week and a half now is something he’s wanted for a while now. his rose-tinted view of the mysterious girl is makes him feel nervous now that he’s met you.

“ah..!” you audibly gasp, “really? maybe i’ll get you a box of chocolate-covered blueberries for valentines’ day then!” you joke.

he’s heard those exact words before already, but it still flustered him.

i..is that so? heh, i guess that just means i’ll have to return the favor on white day.” he laughs. it’s getting late. the teachers are gonna lock the classroom doors soon, so the two of you should probably leave. he grabs his school bag and training gear, as well as his lunchbox.

you seem to get the hint, and stand up as well. you yawn, covering your mouth to save yourself some dignity, and small tears form in your eyes. “ahh… anyway, i have to take this down to my club room… i’ll see you, yukki.” you bid goodbye, trying on the new nickname for size.

but, yukimiya’s not ready to say goodbye just yet.

“ahh.. do you want me to carry that for you..? you seem pretty tired, so…” he wanders off, “are you okay?”

you reluctantly let him carry the box, and the two of you begin to walk down the stairs to your clubroom. “yeah, i’m alright… i just haven’t been sleeping well.” you hum, “i’ve tried basically everything… but, i can’t seem to sleep.”, you sigh.

“ah, seems annoying… but, i can’t do much to fix that. sorry…” he responds. his response seems a bit absent-minded though, as if he wasn’t focusing on what he said.

that was because his attention was directed to the lack of distance between the two of you. he’s been this close to other girls before… but, being close to you seems to make his heart pound right outside of his chest.

“eh, it’s not your fault. don’t worry to much about it.” you wave it off, as if it was a minor inconvenience.

the rest of the walk was uncomfortably silent but soon enough, you’re at your club room. you graciously open the door for yukimiya, which lets him get inside easily and place the box on a nearby table.

“heh… thanks, superman.” you smile. and yukimiya’s eyes move to avoid contact, embarrassed by the nickname. “oh, uhh… it really wasn’t a problem, so don’t worry about it.” he awkwardly laughs.

“i didn’t keep you too long, did i?” you ask. he’s not too sure what else he could’ve been busy with, but he’s touched by your concern. “nope, don’t worry too much.” he chides.

“just a habit, hehe…” you explain yourself as you move to grab your own school bag. “a—anyways, i’ll see you, yukki..!” you bid him goodbye for the second time today, waving your hand goodbye.

but again, yukimiya still isn’t quite ready to say goodbye.

“oh— do you want me to walk you home..?” he offers, quite forwardly, at that.

your face scrunches at his offer, anxious to be taking up so much of his time today, “n..no, that’s asking too much now… it’s fine, don’t worry too, okay?” you laugh, throwing back his own advice.

yukimiya scoffs, recognizing his own hypocrisy. he’s a bit saddened by the fact that you rejected his offer, but he has to respect your decision. “alright… then, maybe you wanna… hang out sometime..?” he sounds nervous. he’s never had to be the one asking someone out, so he doesn’t know how to ask someone to ‘hang out’.

“i..i can pay too if money’s a concern. i’m the one who’s asking you out after all, it’s only fair.” he rationalized. you mull it over for a quick minute, and you finally respond, “sure, but you really don’t have to do all that..! it’s not like this would be a date…” you reassure him.

for some reason, that last part hurt. he wishes that it was a date. his shoulders visually slum down in disappointment, but there’s still a sense of hope to his expression.

he’s willing to put time into this. he wants to know more about you; know why you’re appearing in his dreams. he nods, “yeah, that’s fair enough… are you free this saturday? we can just go around the city.”

“mhm. sounds like a plan.” you nod.

he grins, “great. i’ll see you—,” he pauses. he never asked about your name..! here he was disappointed about dates, and wanting to know more about you, but he doesn’t even know what your name is..! he should probably just disappear, this is too embarrassing. there’s no recovering from this—

“s/o.”

what?

“my name is s/o.” you inform him.

yukimiya snaps out of his humiliated state long enough to respond, “ah, i see..! my mistake for not ever asking for your name. heh, i guess i just got a bit too comfortable.” you laugh at his scatterbrainedness, and wave it off. “it’s fine, i got a bit comfortable too, so i forgot to tell you my name.”

he’s glad that you also felt comfortable with him, but he has a feeling that you have a different meaning for comfortable…

he felt as if he’s already known you. but, you simply thought of him as a schoolmate that you’re familiar with. it was his mistake for thinking of you as the faceless girl from his dreams, rather than the much more lifelike girl that stood before him.

“right… well, i’ll see you, s/o.” he smiles as he waves goodbye, his smile much wider than it had been before he met you in that classroom. you nod, waving goodbye as well. “yeah! bye, yukki!”

the two of you walk toward the school exit together before finally parting ways, leaving yukimiya feeling as if he’s separated with a part of him.

it was odd that he’s already this attached to you. but, maybe that was just because of the fact that the two of you just naturally clicked. or, the fact that he’s seen and talked with your faceless self in ephemeral periods when time stood still— all of it in romantic, rose-tinted glasses.

the moment he came home, he has just been a ticking time bomb, waiting for the moment he can see you again. he’s never felt quite as nervous as he does right now.

his heart feels like a heavy weight in his chest, making it difficult to breathe. he can’t have a crush on you already… can he?

it’s a question that haunts yukimiya as he lies in bed, anxious and unable to sleep.

and for the first time in a while, you have a good night’s rest.

[yayll]

~ a little something about Beast Dazai and his inability to let you go ~

Your hand trembles as you're about to knock on the massive office doors and you wonder if you're about to make the biggest mistake of your life.

You got too close working for this terribly lonely man, and now you're knocking at his door with the only solution you can think of to put an end to your silly infatuations that have gone on for longer than you'd want to admit and can possibly handle. You open the door slowly, and walk into the elegant and massive office space, your eyes falling right onto the dark haired man in all black hunched over the desk, scribbling away as if he didn't hear you come in. You walk quietly, and when you reach the wooden desk, your voice comes out soft and firm.

"Dazai, sir? I wanted to speak to you about something sensitive, if I may."

You chew on the corner of your bottom lip, but quickly compose yourself when you see the face of the man you've spent so much time with, the unfortunate love of your life. if it weren't for his Maroon scarf, he'd look like nothing but a black void. A burnt Black cat. He looks up, narrowed eyes scan you as he takes a sip of his tea, replying in a monotonous tone.

"What is it?"

"After much consideration, I think.. I need to leave the Port Mafia. We've worked together for quite a while now, and I can assure you it's not about the quality or enjoyment of my work. You don't even have to acknowledge this beyond me simply saying it, I just have to confess something that makes my heart ache. You make my heart ache. I know how unprofessional that sounds and that you have no use for such affections, but I can't keep pretending. It's why I think it's time for me to move onto something else otherwise my work will become disrupt-"

A lifted finger is shoved into your face, signaling you to stop, and so you do. Of course you do. You always had a habit of word vomiting when you were anxious. Dazai is staring down at his tea, and he stays quiet for a long time, trying to pick what emotion he can mask his real outraged ones with. Finally, he flashes you an unbothered look, his eyes half lidded as they taunt you. A cruel smirk curls onto his lips.

"Oh? What an awful time for your honesty! I'm currently drowning in work and responsibilities, ones that you're supposed to aid me with, actually. Thus, I have no use for your confession." He simply says.

You can feel a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You expected this. Looking down at your shoes, you chew on your lip again.

"I had to tell you.. Like I said, you can just forget about it."

"Well you see, that's the problem. I can't forget it. The moment you uttered those nasty little words to me, I realized I have to carry the weight of finding a new secretary. And I resent that."

He looks away for a brief second, his words are bitter and laced with what sounds like remorse and irritation.

You cross your arms and sigh, your voice comes out lower than your confidence.

"I just thought that we were... I suppose I should have never dared to assume you'd ever see me as more than a-"

He instantly leans over his desk, now placing a finger on your lip, his voice just above a whisper.

"... And though these feelings you have for me may be inconvenient, it doesn't mean that they're unwelcome."

He lets his finger rest on your lips for just a second too long, meanwhile you're frozen in place feeling like your chest is going to collapse in on itself. His voice becomes softer.

"Sit, please."

You sit down, now facing each other. It's quiet for a few moments as you both study each other's expressions. This form of intimacy was unusual to everyone else but the two of you, having spent countless hours in the past working across one another without uttering a single word, yet communicating in perfect sync. You were a part of each other's routines, a never ending spiral. Dazai feels himself teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something peeling away at his very soul. He's usually so arrogant and domineering, but in this instant, he suddenly feels an exhaustion wash over him trying to keep that going. He's kept it going for so long, he forgot that he doesn't like doing it with you. You don't deserve to be a part of all of this, and he doesn't deserve to want you.

Oh how he loathes his true identity: A simple man. A human man. Your man.

When he can't take it anymore, he slowly creeps his bandaged hand on top of yours, applying light pressure, but his eyes don't dare look into yours. Not yet. Finally, you break the silence, staring down with furrowed brows at the way your hands fit around one another. You mutter under your breath, tired of being vague.

"What are we to each other, Dazai? I mean really?"

"Do I really need to spell it out for you?" He snorts, trying to cling to the last of his cruelty but failing as he lets his emotions sway his judgement.

You sigh, flipping your hand over so that your fingers can fully intertwine.

"I just don't know how I could ever take up any space in your mind. I didn't think you noticed whether I stayed or left."

He looks up, flashing you a mildly offended look, his sharp eyes narrowing. He scoffs quietly, dropping your hand and standing up from his desk. He walks over to you, his full height now looming. He bends down and scolds you.

"What an obscene thing to say. You're invaluable. You have always been occupying my mind, every minute, every second, every microsecond. I always notice. I'd notice even if I was on my deathbed."

Your breath catches in your throat, and you finally manage to swallow the lump that's building up as you stare up at your reckoning.

"I just- I'd never try to leash you, sir."

His eyes soften, and he tilts his head slightly. You drive him mad with the way you don't realize what a dog he is for you. His voice comes out strained.

"You wouldn't need to. And don't call me that. You know my name, and as your superior l'm ordering you to address me properly."

Your cheeks flush, and you part your lips, letting out the breath you can't stop holding. A faint smile appears on your face, and you stand up slowly to meet him.

"You're like the moon, you know? You control everything like the tides. You control me, Osamu."

He shakes his head, and sighs deeply. If only you could see how wrong you were. He steps closer, moving his hand up your arm gently as he trails his way to your collarbone with ghost-like strokes.

"Did you know that sometimes when I'm laying in bed, all alone after a long day of controlling things, my only thoughts are about you?"

He confesses, sincerely. Dazai brings his face inches from yours, his voice now becoming a pleading whisper. His hand travels down to your waist, gripping it gently.

"Do you find it hard to believe that you bring me to my knees, the big scary Port Mafia boss? Because if so, you're a great fool! I love spending my time with you. I quite literally need you by my side in my times of need and at any random and mundane moment that passes. It brings me unimaginable joy when you nag me to get more sleep, especially when I don't listen because I can't wait to hear you say it over and over again. I don't like it when you have plans, or when you report to anyone else but me. I want you to stay with me tonight and every single night after and I don't care how awful this sounds. I don't care about you having a life outside of me."

Your throat feels tight, eyes wide at the fervor of his words alone. You reply with a shaky breath.

"Every single night after?"

"Every. Single. Night. After..."

"As if we were together?"

"We are together." He declares as if it were obvious this entire time.

Hearing Dazai be so blunt makes your mind fog over quickly, a whiplash of feelings that you never thought would ever see the light of day suddenly surface. He feels the same, realizing how much he's given away to you in such a short amount of time, but for him it's been rotting inside for years. He's been held together by the glue of your support too long not to kneel for you now. It's over for him, he's run out of masks to wear. He slowly guides your body backwards towards the opulent leather couch at the center of the room. You stop when you feel yourself backing up into the cool pebbled hide, and he slowly lowers you down onto your back with his arms supporting you. He delicately hovers over you, looking deeply into your eyes as he takes in the way your bodies feel against each other. For a moment he worries he might actually be trembling.

His breath hitches when you place a hand on the bandaged side of his face that covers his left eye. You stroke the fabric lightly, eyes twinkling with unfiltered adoration. He thinks about the only other person who's ever looked at him with such reverence, and how painful it is not to be able to tell his best friend he's in love. He leans into your touch, humming softly and closing his eyes as he molds his lips deeply into yours. It's not a kiss of sexual desire. This is a kiss born of romance and intimacy, a mutual oath of surrender. cold bandaged hands instinctively wander your body, starting at the waist down to your hips, and slowly exploring the plush of your thighs, kneading them. He runs them higher, lightly tracing your ribs with his index finger while the other hand cups your face. Dazai's mouth moves gently, and slowly pulls away from yours with a soft whine. His fingers trace your jawline as he stares at you. You taste like milk and honey. Like the moon and rain. He smiles at you, eyes sparkling like the night sky. You feel his heartbeat against your body. Every single pore of your skin is connected.

"Please— don't leave the Port Mafia, and don't leave me alone... Not tonight. Not ever. I'd become a tyrant without you."

"Is that also an order?" You murmur in between shallow breaths, dreamy eyes trained on him.

His eyes flicker over to your lips for a moment, then return to your eyes. His voice drops to something that resembles a soft whimper.

"Noo. No, it's not. I could never demand anything from you. But if you'll allow me to act selfishly, I just want to make you happy, to see you smile. I want you to keep greeting me with that tea you make every morning before our meetings. I also never want to hear you call me 'Sir' again. I am not your boss or your friend... I'm so much more than that. We've always been together. We will always be together— Is this too much?"

You shake your head, smiling uncontrollably at the way Dazai rambles in this moment, it's a side of him you've never seen in all the years you've known him. A stark contrast from the detached and cruel presence that frightens others on an almost daily basis. This seems like a person pretending to be the boss of the Port Mafia, an almost perfect imitation. You're not sure what barriers within him had to break for him to become the mushy and needy mess you see before you and what it all means in the long run, but you dismiss it for now. You get the feeling this might be the real Osamu Dazai. And that excites you.

"Never too much. I'm here and I'm staying. I would always stay."

He chuckles, it's a broken shaky laugh bordering on a sob. He buries himself in your neck, smiling against your soft skin, nibbling on it. He lightly runs his tongue against the mark he leaves, and slowly lifts his gaze to meet yours

"... I know you would. You always do."

You tilt your head, and hum in mild confusion at his odd little comment.

"Do you know something I don't?"

He flashes you a knowing smile and speaks prophetically as he lightly traces a finger over a large vein on your neck, following it down to your soft chest. He murmurs lazily while bringing his lips down to where he won't be able to get them off for the rest of the night.

"I know everything, silly.~"

The Port Mafia can wait, he's going home first.

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: in my william nylander era ❤️‍🔥 a little hurt/comfort to ease in before we get to the fun stuff (aka smut). i had so much fun writing this and i’m excited to share the upcoming stuff with you guys! hope you enjoy and let me know what you think 😊

word count: 2.5k

tw: brief dirty talk (literally one line at the end), mentions of vomiting

summary: you didn’t realize william was home with a migraine, but now that you’re home from work all you want to do is take care of him

Pablo and Banksy meet you at the door when you come in after work, tails wagging. You grin and drop to your knees, scratching behind their ears and avoiding the licks to the face.

“Hi, puppies! You’re such good puppies and I missed you,” you coo in the baby-talk voice you use with the dogs that William teases you about. The dogs bark a little, excited for all the attention you’re giving them. You plan on walking them quickly and then heading over to the arena for the game.

William’s already been gone for a few hours and you know the dogs are probably antsy for another walk.

“Give me one minute to change,” you scratch at Pablo’s head, kissing Banksy on the forehead. “And I’ll be ready to go with you.”

You give each of them another scratch between the ears and stand up, kicking off your heels and dropping your work tote to the floor. Banksy immediately noses at it, finding the granola bar you’d eaten half of on the TTC. You yelp and nudge him out of the way with your foot, reaching down to yank the wrapper from his mouth.

“Hey! Menace, these aren’t for you,” you chastise gently, reaching for the bag of dog treats on the counter and tossing one to each dog. “I don’t even know why I’m rewarding that behavior, sir, but mind your own snacks.”

Banksy looks up at you with big puppy eyes and you shake your head, muttering, “you’re just like your dad.”

Dogs settled, you head for your bedroom to change into your game clothes and sneakers. You hum the chorus to ‘Espresso’ under your breath, unbuttoning your shirt with one hand and reaching out to flip on the bedroom light with the other. The light is suddenly bright and your vision adjusts to see a lump in the middle of your bed.

A lump that groans and you shriek, hand clapping over your chest before flying up in a defensive position.

“Oh my god!” You yelp, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“S’me,” William groans from bed, sticking his hand out from the top of the covers and waving it lazily. “S’just me.”

“Jesus,” you mutter, breathless and heart still pounding erratically. “You’re supposed to be at the arena, what’s going on?”

It’s a stupid question, you realize in the next second, your boyfriend is obviously suffering from a migraine. You hit the dimmer switch on the lights and your bedroom is quickly darkened, just a soft light making it easier for you to see so you don’t crash into furniture.

William mumbles a ‘thanks’ from under the covers and your heart twinges for him. You get changed quickly, into comfortable sweats and a long sleeved shirt, since you don’t have to go to the arena now, you abandon all plans for looking cute.

“Do you need anything?” You murmur, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching a hand out to caress William’s forehead and cheek. He leans into your touch like a cat, lines furrowed on his forehead. He’s a little warm, but that’s probably because he’s buried under the thick covers. “Did you take your pill?”

He hums a faint affirmative and pokes his face out from under the covers. He looks pale and nauseous, a faint grey tinge to his cheeks. “Took ‘em, but then I might’ve puked ‘em up,” he winces.

You card your fingers through his hair softly, hoping it’s a soothing motion. “How long ago?”

“Couple of hours?” William presses his face into the pillow, eyes screwed tightly shut. “Had to leave morning skate early.”

“Why didn’t you text me?” You ask, knowing it had to have been a bad migraine for William to leave skate and miss the game. He hasn’t had a bad one in a while, so you’re sure this must’ve knocked him on his ass. “I would’ve come home and worked remote to take care of you.”

“Thought I could sleep it off,” he mumbles, scooting a little closer to you and wincing when the movement jostles his head. You close the gap between your bodies and sit cross legged on the mattress next to him, stroking his hair. You’re not sure if it’s helping, but it doesn’t seem to be hurting. “Threw up at practice, so I should’ve known it was going to be bad.”

You hum sympathetically. “Did you sleep? Eat?” You know he just has to ride out the migraines sometimes, but you want to make sure he doesn’t get dehydrated or hungry since that’ll just make it worse.

“Yeah, I got a couple of hours. And I ate some toast earlier,” he confirms, reaching out to wrap his arms around your leg and rest his head on your lap. You scratch lightly at his scalp and he groans low in the back of his throat.

“Scoot back to the pillow,” you murmur. “I’m going to get you some Gatorade and a snack.”

William whines a little like a kid, but moves back into his spot. You lean down a press a kiss to his temple.

“I’ll be right back, okay, käraste?” You murmur against his skin. William nods and you press the covers in around his torso before climbing carefully off the bed and padding out of the room. You tug the door shut behind you and corral the dogs so you can take them with you on the quick walk to the deli down the block. They won’t be getting the longer walk that they need, but something is better than nothing.

You’re back a few minutes later with the handles of the plastic bags digging into your fingers and two dogs circling your feet. They definitely need a longer walk so hopefully you can take them out again after you get William all settled. Your heart hurts to know that he’s been suffering all afternoon even though he’s an adult and has dealt with migraines for so long.

Quietly, you poke your head back into your dark bedroom, holding your breath so you don’t wake him, if he’s asleep.

“I’m awake,” he says, a faint laugh in his tone.

You sigh. “I’m sorry, I thought you might have fallen asleep,” you step inside, closing the door on the dogs so they can’t come in and bother him.

“No luck,” he laughs again and you can hear the strain in his tone. You settle everything you brought on the night table and climb up onto the bed next to William again. He presses his cheek against your outer thigh and wraps a hand around your knee. “Stay with me?”

“Of course,” you murmur. Sometimes he wants comfort, sometimes he can’t stand to be touched. You like when you get to curl up with him since it makes you feel like you’re helping a little bit. “How about some Gatorade and a little snack first? I brought the ice wrap too.”

He doesn’t put up much of a fight and struggles up into a sitting position, wincing while he moves. His face has pillow creases on it and his hair is both matted down and sticking up at the same time on one side. William looks like a cranky toddler and it’s adorable.

“Not that hungry,” he warns you, even as he accepts a banana and the icy bottle of Gatorade.

“Eat what you can,” you shrug, picking at the sandwich you’d ordered for yourself. William looks over at it with pleading eyes and you snort a laugh, holding it out for him to take a bite from the corner. “Drink the Gatorade too.”

He smiles at you around the mouthful of sandwich, chews and swallows, before gulping back half of the Gatorade in one gulp. A little bit of the color returns to his face and you’re happy to see it, offering your sandwich to him for another bite.

“Thanks, älskling,” he replies and rests his head on your shoulder, breaking off pieces of the banana to eat. You eat half the sandwich in quiet and William polishes off the banana and Gatorade.

Not hungry, your ass.

“Want the ice cap?” You ask, knowing he hates it but that it does help.

William shrugs. “No? But you’re going to make me wear it anyway, aren’t you?” He presses a kiss to your shoulder to punctuate his question.

You grin even though the room is dark. “Yes, it helps and you know it,” you retort, shifting to grab the ice cap off the night table. You gently tug it over William’s eyes, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose once it’s in place. He wrinkles that same nose at you, but his lips curl up in a softly relieved smile and his shoulders loosen and drop their tension.

“Better?” you murmur, rubbing at the back of his neck with light fingers.

He hums and shifts down on the bed, dropping his head to your lap. The wrap is cold against your leg, but William tucks his hand under his cheek and lets out a little sigh, so you run your fingers over his head and neck, keeping the tension at bay.

After a few minutes, William’s breathing slows and evens out, his head getting heavier on your lap. He’s passed out, his mouth hanging open slightly. You keep stroking the back of his neck, just to make sure he’s really asleep, fingers moving absently. William lets out a soft snore that rumbles through your thigh.

You smile to yourself and settle back against the headboard, grabbing your phone and tapping open the Kindle app. With any luck, William will get in a nice long nap, even if that means you’re stuck here for a bit.

Three hours later, when William finally stirs, stretches, and wakes up, your ass is numb and you’ve polished off the remaining half of your sandwich. You also finished the rest of the psychological thriller you’d been reading and made decent progress on a celebrity memoir.

“Hey there, Sleeping Beauty,” you murmur down at your boyfriend when he shifts and pushes the ice wrap off of his eyes.

He’s a little unfocused, but blinks a few times and smiles slowly at you. “Hey,” his voice is hoarse from sleep, but his face doesn’t have the tension from earlier. You can see that he’s more relaxed now. “How long was I out?”

“Three hours,” you take the wrap from him, now nearly hot from William’s body heat, and toss it on the night table. “Do you feel better? You look better.”

“Mhm,” he hums, rubbing both hands over his face before sitting up. You shake out your legs, the numbness already starting to fade and the pins and needles sensation trickling in. You wince and wiggle your toes, painful as the nerves all start to come back online.

William notices and frowns, “oh shit! Swing them up here,” he pats his lap, “I’ll get the blood flow circulating.”

“I’m okay,” you laugh, wiggling your legs around. They’re already feeling better. “Do you want some dinner? I know it’s a little late, but you’ve got to be hungry.”

Despite your protests, William’s grabbed your feet and dragged them onto his lap, digging his thumbs into the balls of your feet and your arches. You sigh and melt back against the pillows, twitching your toes at him when he tickles at your ankle.

“Maybe in a bit,” he concedes. “Can we take the dogs for a quick walk? I think I need some fresh air, honestly.”

It’s an easy request to agree to and a few minutes later, you’re both geared up in jackets for a walk. Banksy and Pablo freak when they realize they’re getting another walk, jumping around before settling to prance around yours and William’s legs on the stroll down the street. William laces his fingers with yours and you let your arm bump against his while you walk.

“I’m sorry your night was ruined, älskling,” William murmurs. “I know you were looking forward to hanging out with the girls.”

You wave him off. “I don’t mind. I just feel bad that you felt bad. Seeing you all laid out like that, it’s tough knowing there’s nothing I can really do to help,” you shrug, frowning slightly.

William laughs warmly, the familiar sound washing over you. “You help so much,” he leans in and presses a kiss to your temple, stubble scratching at your skin. “The migraines suck, but I like knowing you’re there even if I’m just napping in your lap.”

“You are really cute when you’re asleep,” you tease, laughing.

“I’m really cute when I’m doing other stuff too,” he winks and you snort, nudging at his leg with your interlocked hands.

“How about you get to a point where passing under a streetlight doesn’t make you squint and wince in pain before making moves?”

William looks affronted. “I don’t need to keep my eyes open to make you come, älskling,” he grumbles, stopping in his tracks and dragging you to his chest, catching your hip with his free hand and pressing his lips to yours in a heated kiss. You whimper into the kiss and William’s lips curl up in a delighted smile.

“You need to rest,” you murmur against his lips when the kiss ends. “I know you want to get back on the ice.”

Banksy barks, distracting you both for a moment. William whistles for the dogs and they come trotting over to sit at your feet. Your boyfriend grins at you, “how about we rest on the couch?”

You start the walk back to the apartment, smirking at him. “What’s your definition of rest, Mr. Nylander?”

William’s eyes twinkle under the streetlights. He still looks a little tired, but so much more alert. “Well,” he draws out the word, “I’ll sit on the couch, won’t even move since you want me to rest.”

“Mhm,” you hum, knowing there has to be more. “And where will I be?”

“Your favorite spot,” William continues, almost nonchalant, squeezing your fingers in an absent pattern, “on my lap, your perfect pussy keeping my cock warm.”

Your body heats at his words, the low tone they’re delivered in, your clit twitching a little. You blink innocently at him, fully ignoring the way your cunt throbs and the way your panties grow damp.

You pretend to think it over, humming faintly before saying, “I guess, if you promise to be very good and rest…I don’t see an issue with that arrangement.”

“I promise, älskling,” William vows, pulling you close so he can kiss the side of your neck while you’re stopped at the corner. “Won’t move an inch, I swear.”

He nips lightly at the juncture of your neck and shoulder and you know he’s certainly not going to be on his best behavior, but you can’t find it in you to mind.

Not when William’s pressing his bulge against the curve of your ass and laughing against your skin as if you’re in the bedroom and not in the middle of the Toronto sidewalk.

The light changes and he rushes you across the street, laughing loudly. You trip along behind him, giggling, glad to see him feeling better and ready to help him get all the way back to one hundred percent.

——-

[fear-is-truth]

can I please request some headcannons as to what you think the Evans would be like when they’re drunk? thank you!!! :)))

⋆𐙚 ₊ the evans… drunk .ᐟ

ft. tate langdon ‧ kit walker ‧ frat!kyle spencer ‧ jimmy darling ‧ james patrick march ‧ cult leader! kai anderson ‧ austin sommers ‧ peter maximoff ‧ colin zabel ‧ warren lipka

⟢ 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐍.

tate would become a fucking menace. he’d pull pranks on the other ghosts, or just plain insult them. he finds endless amusement in being a little shit, glancing over at you to see if you’re laughing too.

he’d be glued to you, practically following you room-to-room like a newly adopted puppy, even if you’re just going to the bathroom. “where’re you going?” he’d stand right outside the door, waiting for you to come back, greeting you with a lazy, lovesick grin like he hasn’t seen you in hours.

drunk tate would mutter a lot—sometimes to himself, sometimes to you. it’d be of random thoughts, little complaints, or dreamy, barely coherent things like, “can’t believe you’re real…” his words would come out slurred and soft, but he’d have this intense focus on you, clearly wrapped up in his own head.

venting. a lot of venting.

⟢ 𝐊𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑.

would do his best to keep himself together, reminding you both to “take it easy,” but he’d totally stumble over his own plans. kit would try holding his drink steady, only to spill half of it, laughing it off with an, “ah, whoops!” as if it was the funniest thing ever.

his sense of humor would skyrocket, and he’d be doubled over laughing at the simplest things. someone makes a lame pun? he’s cracking up. you give him a look? pure comedy gold.

his slurred boston accent would get thicker, making everything he says sound even more sexier.

would also get extra honest and sappy, letting his emotions spill out in the most genuine way. he’d look at you with teary eyes and tell you how much he appreciates you, going on about how grateful he is to have found you.

⟢ pre death .ᐟ 𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑.

kyle wouldn’t get blackout drunk, he’d getting just tipsy enough to be completely adorable. his cheeks would be flushed a rosy pink, and he’d have that big, goofy grin on his face.

would start singing along to whatever song is playing.

even with a few drinks in him, kyle’s the one guy who would still keep an eye out for anyone who needs help. if he saw a random girl looking unsteady, he’d guide her to a safe spot, and if she had to throw up in the bathroom, he’d stay with them, holding her hair. then he’d call her friends to get her.

if any one of his frat brothers try and mess with you he’d literally fistfight them.

⟢ 𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆.

drunk jimmy would be all over you, getting incredibly touchy, pulling you into his lap whenever he gets his hands on you. he’d slur sweet, filthy things out loud — it’s embarrassing as hell but kinda hot.

would keep drinking even after you told him to stop. “nah, babe,’m fine—jus’ one more i swear.” of course, this would end with him either passing out or vomiting.

if anyone so much as looked at you the wrong way, drunk jimmy would be ready to kick some serious ass. “what’re you starin’ at, huh? you think you can just look at her like that?!” you’d have to hold him back before he got into full florida man mode.

⟢ 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇.

i think james would have crazy good alcohol tolerance.

he would be uncharacteristically handsy. insisting you to sit on his lap, arm winding possessively around your waist. he’d hold you close, running his fingers up and down your arm or resting his hand at the small of your back.

“you’re such a vision, my dear,” in that slurred, (fake) brahms accent.

james, in his drunken fascination, would suddenly become enchanted by the smallest, strangest details in the room. he’d point out the ornate carvings on the furniture or the imperfections in a painting, waxing poetic about how they contribute to the room’s “soul.” “just look at that crack in the wood,” he’d remark, “is it not beautifully flawed, just like us?” (he’s a dangerous tainted & flawed man ykwim)

handing you his cigar, he’d watch you intently, clearly enamored with the idea of you lighting it for him. he’d guide your hand, fingers lingering over yours, taking pleasure in the ritual. “steady now, darling,” he’d drawl, a pleased smirk on his face as he watches the flame catch.

would become even more extravagant with his compliments. he’d shower you with praise, admiring everything from the way you smile to the way you hold yourself. “my dearest, you bring such grace to this place,” he’d say, gazing at you with genuine adoration. “i am, as ever, your humble servant.”

⟢ cult leader .ᐟ 𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍.

kai would do his absolute best to act stone-cold sober, even after chugging straight vodka or something hardcore. he’d stand up straighter, make eye contact, and talk in his usual serious tone, almost daring you to suggest he might be tipsy. if he starts slurring? he’d blame it on something like tiredness to keep his ego intact.

thousand yard stare.

would get worked up over small things, flipping into-rants about whatever’s on his mind, each one more dramatic than the previous. topics vary on politics, the state of society, or how he’s totally not drunk.

when tipsy, kai would be a touch more lenient. allowing you to sit on his lap, play with his hair, maybe even cracking a slight smile at your jokes.

⟢ 𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒.

austin would absolutely start singing instead of speaking after getting a bit smashed. belting out tunes or turning every sentence into a musical number, “who’s ready for a refiiiillll~?”

every drink would require a toast, and they’d progressively get more absurd and inappropriate. “to art, sex, and whatever the fuck this cocktail is supposed to be!”

would be shamelessly flirty with everyone, but his attention would always come back to you.

⟢ 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐅𝐅.

his hyper ass would be bouncing off the fucking wall.

would steal people’s drinks mid-sip or rearranging furniture in the room for no reason.

“bet i can chug this entire keg and still run a lap around the earth. wanna see?”

⟢ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍 𝐙𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐋.

colin’s drunk vocabulary would be filled with “erm” and “errr,” with every other sentence stumbling out in a mess of slurred words. “errr… what i—what i meant was… wait, i had it. it was, uh… gone now, but it was good, i promise.

if anyone tried to bother you or made a lewd comment, colin would get hella territorial in his tipsy state. “hey, buddy, why don’cha back off the milady, alright? she’s—she’s with me.”

would insist on carrying your coat, guarding your drink, or even offering to dance with you.

all in all, a total sweetheart.

⟢ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐊𝐀.

warren would be that guy at the party, jumping off rooftops into pools or climbing on furniture while shouting, “heyyy watch this!” he’d have no fear and thrive on being the centre of attention.

if body shots were happening, you could bet warren would be in the thick of it, grinning ear to ear.

would totally dominate beer pong.

his version of dancing would involve spinning you around wildly or grinding against you to whatever beat was playing.

sex in the bathroom or smoking dope. or both.

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[satorusugurugurl]

Geto or Gojo being mean asf in bed😍

Anon, I love you.

Action’s and Consequences!

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB Y/N

Word Count: 2,499

Warnings: Mentions of drugging, alcohol consumption, language, rough sex, fighting, Mean!Suguru 🥵

Summary: The morning after a terrible night at the club starts with you and Suguru’s first major fight. A fight that Suguru will make sure you never forget.

“Oh my god! Give me a fucking break!” You yelled behind you as Geto stormed after you. “I made a stupid mistake!”

Geto scoffed, grabbing your arm and hauling you back. “A simple mistake?! You call letting some guy buy you a drink without watching him a simple mistake!? Y/N, he fucking slipped you something!!” You winced, partially from your hangover, and the other half was due to the lack of food in your stomach.

“I was talking to his friend! Just like you were letting THAT skank rub up against you!”

This was the nastiest fight you and Suguru had ever gotten into. You both went out with Satoru and Shoko to a new club. There had been shots involved, lots of shots. And you had been having fun until you spotted a girl rubbing her hand against your boyfriend’s chest, and he just let it happen. So, in retaliation, you started talking to some guy who bought you a drink that just so happened to be laced with something.

If it hadn't been for Satoru, who hates alcohol, the guy would have snuck you to the back. Instead, Satoru rubbed your back while you were in the hall puking your guts out, getting whatever the dick slipped you out of your system. Geto was livid, mainly at the asshole who hurt you.

But he was also mad at you.

The morning had come, and it was not a peaceful morning. It had been a yelling match since you woke up to find Suguru watching you, telling you you needed to talk about what happened. All of this started with him! He let that random bitch touch him. Yet he wanted to blame you!

“You are such a fucking brat!” He snapped, grabbing his jacket. “If you had stopped and watched me, I pulled away the second that girl touched me! All you saw in your drunken haze was a second!” Your nose burned as tears flooded your eyes. “Oh, but you should know how a second works! Because all it took was a second for some guy to drug you!!”

“Geto, I'm not playing your fucking game!!”

“Fine by fuckin’ me!”

Without another word, he stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door in his wake. You screamed in frustration, heading to the bathroom to cool off. Stupid Geto, stupid skank, stupid club! Last night sucked, and today sucked even more.

You wanted to stay angry, to boil with rage. But as you stood in the shower, the hot water running over you, your mind cleared. You didn't watch Suguru when the girl touched him. It happened in a flash. The alcohol made it worse than it was. While the anger consumed you, you made a stupid decision and didn't focus on your safety. You had put yourself in a terrible situation.

It could have turned out worse if Satoru hadn't been watching you as the forever DD.

Thinking back, you grimaced at thinking about what Suguru had gone through. To have his loving girlfriend fine and dandy, and the next she's vomiting a laced drink up? He had every right to be worried and upset when you had nothing to be angry about.

Suguru brought you home, gave you water, and held your head back when you got sick. And the first thing you did was yell at him? All because he wanted to talk (like an adult) about what happened.

God, was this what it felt like to be in the dog house?

After your shower, you got dressed, trying to call your boyfriend. Each attempt went straight to voicemail, and your texts were left on read. Your little fights didn't even count as fights! This was uncharted territory. Because you had never pissed Suguru off like this.

An hour and a half later, the door opens to the apartment, and you run for the door. Suguru places two cups of coffee on the table and a sack from the convenience store. He says nothing as he chucks his jacket off, draping it over the couch.

You swallow hard, stepping towards him. “S-Sugu is that coffee for me.” All you get is a nod. “I uhm, thank you.” Another nod. God, you hated the cold shoulder! You didn't want to keep fighting! “Suguru, can we talk please?” Dark eyes finally dart towards you.

“I thought you didn't want to play my games?”

“I-I was mad this morning when I should have shut my mouth.” Your voice was nearly inaudible. “I thought you were letting girls touch you.”

“No, you assumed girls were touching me.” Suguru clarified as he towered over you. “When I have been faithful and loyal to you since day one! But you, you let some guy buy you a drink, you allowed him the chance to hurt you!”

His words stung, but they were true. “I'm sorry, I was wrong. I put myself in a terrible position. All because I was jealous.” tears hit the floor as you finally looked up at Suguru with a sniffle. “I'm so sorry. Please give me another chance. I'll never let it happen again, Suguru.” Seeing you cry, hearing you apologize and own up for what happened, well, it left Suguru somewhat satisfied.

But he was still pissed.

“I hate it when people look at you like you're some meal for the taking. I hate it even more when you allow them to buy you a drink and drug you.” He lifted your chin with his forefinger, his eyes glancing at your neck. “Maybe I need to collar you and keep you on a fucking leash.”

His words were like ice, but there was a fire in his eyes. One you were familiar with. “I-If that would make you feel better, that's fine.”

"Maybe that'll make me feel better," Suguru growled, wrapping his hand around your throat as he looked into your eyes. "Maybe that's what I need. Total control. Make you mine in every sense of the word." He slowly smirked. "Yeah. That's it."

“O-Okay. . .yeah, I like the sound of that.”

The second he had your consent, his lips feverishly crashed against your own, kissing you deeply. Suguru pulled back a moment later, looking at your flushed face with a snark before kissing you again. Fuck you tasted so good, and the way you willingly submitted to him was almost too much for him to handle.

The intensity of the kiss and his hand gripping your throat. It made your pussy throb with unfiltered need. He was never this mean and rough, and holy hell. You liked it.

Feeling you melt against him has Suguru growling in need. "What? You like this, don't you?" He nipped at your neck, making sure he marked you. “Like me getting mad at you.”

You couldn't respond. All you managed to do was whine. And Suguru didn't like that. His hand gripped your throat, squeezing gently. "I asked you if you liked it bitch.”

Your eyes widened as you gasped for air. Tears spilling down your flushed cheeks. “Y-Yes, I like it when you're mad!” He let go of his hand on you, allowing it to simply hover over your sensitive throat.

"Now tell me if it was a lie. Do you like this?"

You whined, realizing he wasn't going to let up. “Yes! I'm telling you the truth, Sugu!”

Suguru grinned, cocking an eyebrow. "Yeah? God, what a nasty slut you are, Y/N." He quickly pulled your shirt up, diving into your tits, massaging them with both hands as he kissed and nipped at your hardening nipples.

Seeing Suguru like this, feral and angry, wanting to put you in your place. That was the only foreplay you would have needed. God, it was so hot.

Noticing your glazed-over eyes, Suguru let go moments later, sliding his hands down to pull your shorts and panties off, leaving you completely naked. "Lucky me,” his eyes trailed over you, “I’m dating the prettiest bitch in the world~" He purred.

Biting your lip, you watched him. “Thank you.” Your thighs glistened with slick, and seeing that Suguru dragged you to the bedroom.

He threw you onto the mattress, grabbing both your legs and pressing them against your chest. Fully exposing your cunt for him to see in all its dripping glory. You turned red, your hand covering your face at his rough actions.

“W-What are you doing?” You squeaked out, peeking at him through your fingers.

"I told you I was going to make you mine," Suguru grumbled, reaching down, tugging down the hem of his sweatpants, tucking them under his balls. “My naughty slutty girlfriend doesn’t listen to me." He growled softly as he leaned down, kissing and biting at your neck again. It always made you melt, and he wanted to feel it again before he fucked you stupid.

You sighed breathlessly, shivering and melting against him. Mewls escaped your lips as you gripped the sheets beneath you. “Mnngh, f-fucking fuck shit.” You sometimes hated how sensitive your neck was, and now that he knew it, you were clay in his hands.

Suguru held you down with one hand while sliding the other down to wrap around his cock, positioning it to a tight entrance. "Are you ready to be fucked into submission?~" He asked as he slid the tip inside of you.

Tilting your head back, you whine at the stretch. “F-Fuck.” You never would get over how big he was. “Suguru.” You tried looking at your conjoined bodies.

Suguru moaned, slowly sliding further inside of you. You could feel his hips trembling. He was holding back. Making sure he didn’t hurt you.

You stared at him in shock. “Fuck me.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Y-You said you were going to make me yours. .that you were going to fuck me stupid.”

Suguru’s movement ceased as his

eyes widened, focused on you before an evil smile split across his face, and he slammed into you. "Fuck yeah-!!"

You dug your nails into his back. Eyes widening, as your mouth fell in an ‘O’ shape, all the air was fuvked out of your lungs.

Hissing at the scratches down his back, Suguru growled, the pain egging him on. He thrusted hard into you, quickly setting a dominating rhythm, ruining your insides with his massive cock. "Fucking-Fuck-! Such good fucking pussy. Too bad my girlfriend was a little shit last night. Or this could have been romantic~" He growled out. “Instead, I have to fuck some common fucking sense into her!”

Tears started to pour down your cheeks at the overstimulation. Before a sob could escape, Suguru gently slapped your cheek. "Nuh huh bitch, you're the one who told me to fuck you like I meant it, Princess~" He growled, one hand sliding down to rub your clit.

You whimpered and arched your back, “I-I know! I'm sorry! So sorry!.” You cried out while staring up at the ceiling.

“Tsk,” Suguru grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. "You're mine." He thrust harder into your tight pussy. "You're mine because I want you, Y/N. I fucking wanted you the second I saw you."

“Y-Yes!.” That was all you managed to say. “Yes, I’m yours.” You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“If you ever let some stranger buy you a drink again, I won't be as fuckin’ nice. I love you, dumbassdont fuckin’ forget it! No one else but you!”

“Yes! I'm sorry it won't happen again!”

Suguru groaned, leaning down and biting your neck as he felt the coil in his stomach tightening. It was your grip around his cock that tightened with the bite that sent him over the edge. He started to fill you up, his cum painting your walls white.

You lay there panting softly as you felt his cum filling you up. “F-Fuck.” you breathed out, relaxing against the bed. Still buried inside of you, you looked down to see his entire torso, rippling muscles covered in sweat.

"You didn't cum."

Suguru throbbed inside of you, his cock pressing against your G-spot as he bent down to get closer to your face. "You're going to fuckin’ cum. Sure, I'm ticked off, but I’m not a sadistic asshole.” When you didn't respond, he sighed before reaching over to the bedside table and grabbing your vibrator. He turned it on the highest setting, pressing it against your clit right away. "Now be a good girl for once and cum."

“A-Ah! Sensitive Suguru!” You started rocking against him, nipples hard as you watched him. “Feels good, though~!!”

Suguru growled as he slowly rocked into you. "That's it~" He reached with his free hand, rolling one of your nipples between his fingers.

Within seconds, whether it was the fact that you liked seeing Suguru so mad or the sex was just so good, his actions made you gush around his cock. The intensity of it made you scream, gripping the pillow behind you as your legs shook.

Feeling you cum around him was enough to have his cock filling you up with his cum for the second time this morning; globs of your combined juices seeped around his girth. "Shit-!"

You were shaking, eyes glazed over with pleasure. Just as you released your grip on the pillow. Suguru held you firmly against him before he slowly pulled out of you, leaning down and kissing you deeply. It was a vivid contrast to the man that just fucked you stupid, but it was also sweet and very much like Suguru.

“Don't ever scare me like that again. You got lucky last night Y/N.”

The guilt began to rise in your chest again. “I know I'm sorry. Truly, I am Sugu.” His eyes bore into yours. “I'm sorry.” he pressed another kiss against your lips.

“I'm sorry I didn't protect you.”

“Suguru, you don't have to apologize. You took great care of me last night.” he hummed, stroking your hair. “Please don't beat yourself up.”

“I won't if you don't.”

“Ah,” you giggled, shaking your head, “you would play that card.” You ran your hands over his shoulders.

“Yeah, just shut up and relax. You need to get all the rest you can.” there was a certain smugness in his tone. One that reminded you of your high school days.

You blinked, pulling back to stare at Suguru. “Why?”

“Because you owe Satoru a favor for saving you. And you'll be taking my place at the Sweets-Expo he wants to visit in Kyoto next weekend.”

“Just me and Satoru?” You gulped.

“For an entire weekend. And you know Satoru, he's going to visit every single vendor.” He smirked, hearing your audible groan. “Suffer.”

“Is it too late to ask you to stay mad at me?”

Suguru grinned against your skin. “That boat sailed the second you apologized when I got home.” he kissed your collarbone, savoring your groan of defeat.

[lovelyghostz]

Hear me out: an au where Narinder is recruited as a follow and becomes a mortal, but falls ill because of said turning mortal.

I mean, it would probably take a lot out of him, right? So what if it acted as a mortal illness? He gets recruited and just collapses on the stone thingy immediately with a burning fever. Lamb wants to take special care of him bc 1) they dont know if mortal medicines would even work on him and 2) they’re worried despite the fact they just usurped him

Narinder wakes up delirious as all hell and pissed off at Lambert because obviously, and tries being intimidating to them but his arms are weak when he goes to swat so his wrists are limp and flailing, and his eyes cant seem to stay open for long enough to glare at them, and on top of that he feels like he’s gonna vomit. So Lambert takes care of a begrudging narinder.

But the sickness is persisting.

And persisting.

And persisting some more.

It gets better ofc, if it hadn’t Narinder probably would’ve died by now, but it’s misery for a man who hasn’t actually had to feel mortal sicknesses literally ever. So the Lamb continues to take care of him, and despite himself he softens. He doesn’t smile when they enter the room, not yet, but he doesn’t hiss (or try to at least) when they enter, either. He’s simply indifferent. Until he’s not.

One night is particularly rough. It’s a few months in and Narinder is still ill. He’s waking up to vomit every half an hour or so and the Lamb hasn’t slept at all, simply watching with worry and honestly a bit of fear. The cat who had been their god for so long now lay in bed with a brow furrowed in discomfort and fur damp from sweat.

He wakes up once more, but not for throwing up this time. This time, he’s delirious, and it’s bad. He’s babbling with unfocused eyes, his body swaying with the struggle of sitting up. Suddenly, though, he makes eye contact with the lamb through three glassy eyes, and his pupils dilate. He murmurs what must have been sleep-deprived, sickly words, because he says that he thinks the lamb is “pretty in the moonlight.” They freeze obviously because WOAH what the FUCK??? And Narinder just slumps back over and falls back asleep, this time with a more pleased expression.

They don’t say anything that night, and neither of them say anything in the morning, either. But Narinder knows, and he knows Lambert knows.

Slowly, very slowly, Narinder improves.

He gains strength and his symptoms improve until finally, after literal months, he’s back to normal. Then and only then, he tells Lambert that they really are so pretty in the moonlight.

He tells them that he likes the way their wool catches the moon’s glow. He says he’d like to trace their jawline as the light does, with such a gentle touch. He says that he’d like to kiss them as the moonlight does, making them look as though they’re glowing.

Lambert is a gay ass bitch and they kiss ok the end ty