#I’m just trying to watch game grumps

[0utpost-alpha]

Are you fucking kidding me?

[callsign-zero]

youtube please being into COD doesn’t mean i want military recruitment ads…

[princessbrunette]

bunny!reader trying to do the “can u watch my bf” trend w rafe he keeps getting upset bc the camera is in his face while hes eating 😭

ᡣ𐭩 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ୨ ৎ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

he’s trying to peacefully eat his dinner when you prop the camera up infront of him, barely holding your giggles together as you say something along the lines of. “i just need to use the bathroom, can you watch my boyfriend for a second?” before disappearing. his eyes flicker between you and the phone, his chewing halting in confusion for a moment before his eyes follow you out the room.

“hey, c’mon quit that shit. si’down.” he commands through a mouthful of food before swallowing painfully, realising you’re gone. he looks back at the phone with a sigh, staring at himself on the front screen. “aaahhh…” rafe itches his temple awkwardly before moving his food aside and grabbing your phone. “m’not playin’ your games. i’m ending this, alright?” he grumps before pressing stop on the video.

you, who was waiting just outside the door huff and re enter. “rafe you’re not supposed to end the video! y’ruined it.” you pout, rewatching the video back distractedly.

“do i look like a god damn circus monkey to you? m’tryna eat my food n’ you should be too. sit down, please.”

rafe was never one for tiktok trends anyway.

ᡣ𐭩 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ୨ ৎ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 26 - I've Loved Everything About You That Hurts

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: They’re insane because I’ll try to write a chapter with no sex and they end up fucking, and then I try to do the sex in less words and now it’s emotional.

Chapter Title from G.I.N.A.S.F.S by Fall Out Boy

Word Count: 25k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: The team drives to DC for a meeting with Singer. Usual warnings, plus some extra smut and average No Love Lost angst.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, much smut (p in v, oral f receiving, fingering, squirting) fluff, emotional angst, established relationship

Read on A03!

Chapter 25 - Chapter 27

Ben was not the brains. And he was fucking fine with that. He was the muscle, and he was goddamn good at it. Because while She was stronger than he was—She was stronger and brighter and more vital than the fucking sun—she shouldn’t have blood on her hands. Her hands weren’t fucking meant to be covered in blood. They were meant to tap in a smooth, unyielding pattern against every surface, and turn the pages of books, and hold Ben’s face as she smiled at him. She was meant to fucking smile, and only be near blood to sit with Ben as he washed it off himself.

She kept letting it stain her skin. She kept taking fucking bullets meant for others and covering herself in the mud that pussies like Homelander pushed her into. And that’s what Ben was here for. He was now certain that he wasn’t here for fame or glory or money, he was here to move in perfect fucking time with the woman he loved. To listen to Her giggle and mumble and snort, and give her the fucking world. To dance with Her in the kitchen, and joke with her about fucking everything, and keep his arm around her during dinner as She gave him a secret look that meant I love you, Benjamin, you grump. He was supposed to watch baseball as She frowned at the screen, turning his hand over in hers as she tried to follow the game. He was meant to hold onto the easier, better things—the warm, well-fueled light that inflated in his chest when Ryan hugged at him after training, or the chuckle he couldn’t stop from escaping his body when She pouted at him about something stupid, or the way She moaned when he fucked her into the mattress—and hack and claw his way through the worse parts.

Ben was meant to be the only person in the fucking world who did the dirty work for Her. She’d done enough, and even though he believed her more and more when she told him I’m okay, Ben would do everything in his fucking power to keep her okay. He knew he couldn’t stop Her from running into traffic, because she was fast and stubborn and still didn’t care if She got hit. But he’d jump in front of the oncoming car, and continue to make her understand that he fucking cared. Ben would never fucking recover if She got hit. And if all he could do was tell Her I fucking love you, stop thinking you’re weak and expendable when I fucking love you and adore you and need you, and then run into traffic with Her, he’d do it. Ben was meant to fucking defend Her from everything that haunted her at night, and he understood that now. That he’d never chase away the ghosts, and She’d never chase away his, but they could really easily fucking kill them together. If they were together, those fucking pussy ghosts didn’t stand a goddamn chance. 

So Ben was the muscle, in order to make sure that She didn’t have to be. It was another thing for him to do for Her, when She’d made everything so much more beautiful just by fucking existing near him, and fixing all his messes, and loving him. Still somehow fucking loving him, because Ben was almost goddamn certain some cosmic entity had made a clerical error and sent him the most perfect woman in history, instead of leaving him alone. Ben thought he was supposed to be, mostly, alone. Making empty promises to women he knew he didn’t really want, and to keep fucking moving until it was enough.

It hadn’t been enough. It had never been fucking enough. 

But he’d rested for one goddamn second—his head held against Her body, the most awful aching fucking pain he’d ever goddamn felt consuming him like a storm—and it had been good. She’d hummed to him like she loved him, and She fucking did, and stayed. He’d rested, and it had been enough. 

And now he knew that the fantasy he’d created—where life was so fucking happy because She was happy—wasn’t something he’d allow to be a fantasy. He couldn’t control anything about Her, but he could keep her happy. And if Her nightmares were of blood, he’d never let her see fucking blood again. He’d hide everything that was blue—if they had a son, the kid would have to just fucking deal with green—and shoot out whatever fucking ceiling fans made her cry. He’d drive her everywhere, half because he was over a hundred and had never seen someone speed like She did, and half because she was afraid of heights, and shouldn’t have to use a single goddamn plane. He’d yell at whoever was in charge of bridges until they built one to Rome, and the rest of their fucking lives would be happy.

That was a life he wanted to live. Where he was resting with Her, and they were both happy. And Ben would fucking choke on blood and dirt and mud until it was a reality. 

Which is why he was losing his fucking mind as they entered that part of this war where it wasn’t about muscle anymore. It was about careful moves and well chosen words, and it was the only goddamn battle Ben couldn’t fight for Her. He wasn’t fucking stupid, but he wasn’t even fucking close to understanding whatever the hell went on in Her perfect, clever, insufferably brilliant brain. He knew how She thought—because he knew Her and loved Her and cared for Her—so when something happened that made her eyes grow glazed and her breathing become mechanical, Ben knew he had to hold her until she stopped thinking the only stupid thoughts she was capable of thinking.

That she was bad, when she was actually the only truly good thing in the world. 

That she was weak, when she fucking wasn’t. 

That she didn’t matter, when she mattered more than fucking anything, and sometimes it stabbed him deep in his arteries that she still didn’t get that. 

Ben knew how to chase those thoughts away. He was smart enough to know how to worship and tend to her, and to know when she just needed him at her side.

But Christ, he wasn’t smart enough for this shit. For the CIA and Singer and Edgar and Sage messes. This was Her territory. And Ben could stand at her side, but that was the only fucking way he could help, and it was driving him out of his goddamn mind.

What was worse, though, was that She was fucking confused. And that’s how Ben knew they were fucked.

Because not a single goddamn person could figure out what the fuck the keys were for. 

As they’d left the safe house, Neuman had stopped them. In reality, Neuman had stopped Her and Ben had simply fucking refused to leave them alone. He’d received several irritated glares from Neuman, but She’d moved her free hand to hold Ben’s forearm—in a silent request to keep his hand in Her’s, to stay at her side all the goddamn time—so Ben had stood tall and proud next to her, keeping her safe. Just by being there, like She’d told him to. Neuman could look fucking pissed at him all she wanted, Ben wasn’t going anywhere.

“You were at Red River,” Neuman had watched them carefully, arms crossed as she blocked their way down the stairs. “Did you get it?” 

There had been a pause as She examined Neuman, before finally nodding, her tone flat and  bored. “Yeah, we did. We’ll get it to Edgar-“ 

“What is it?” 

She’d blinked at Neuman. “Does it matter?” 

“Of course it matters,” Neuman had said Her name with an eye roll, and Ben had felt something bloody and zealous tense in his body. “Edgar raised me to be a lot smarter than just blindly trusting him, so I want to know what it is.” 

“And if I don’t tell you?” 

“Oh, come on.” Neuman’s voice had been vaguely amused, giving Her a flat look. “We both know you’re going to tell me. You trust me enough to bring Ashley here, and whatever it is I bet you’re debating whether or not you should give it to Edgar. I can help you decide.”

Ben hadn’t been debating shit. It was keys. Who gave a fuck about keys. As far as he had known, they’d toss the keys to Edgar, settling the debt, and figure out what the fuck to do with the V.

And that was another fucking reason why She was the brains. She’d studied Neuman—fingers tapping on Ben’s arm with lips pulled between her teeth—and found a conclusion that satisfied her enough to reach into Ben’s pocket and pull out the keys, holding them up for Neuman to see.

“Keys.” She’d jingled them with a shrug. “Got an idea what they’re to?”

Neuman hadn’t. Neuman had just looked fucking confused, and helped with goddamn nothing. Neuman had stared at the keys, bluntly stated that she didn’t know what they could possibly unlock, all of Edgar’s property assets were seized and all of Vought’s buildings used electronic locks, and suggested they figure out what they were for before giving them to Edgar. And—based on Her drawn, too-neutral face and the spark of indigence in her eyes—She’d already known all that, and had no intention of giving Edgar a goddamn thing until they knew what the hell was going on.

And now they were even more goddamn late to get back to the compound, and make the drive to DC. She’d volunteered to drive them back, and Ben, Hughie, and Kimiko had exchanged silent looks of not a fucking chance in hell. 

“I’ll be safe-“ 

Ben had drawled Her name, cutting off her protests as Hughie and Kimiko moved to the front of the car. “You will not be fucking safe. You’re worse than Butcher, and if you wreck his car we’re going to have to deal with his bitching for the rest of our goddamn lives.” 

“But-“ 

He’d tugged Her into the back seat, holding her half on his lap and kissing her pretty, pouting mouth until she relaxed in his arms. We’re going to be fucking fine. If Singer gets all goddamn pissed about us being late, he can shove it in his dick hole. 

A small smile had played on her lips, still pressed against Ben’s. Gross.

Her heartbeat had remained steady under Ben’s hands for the rest of the—perfectly fucking legal and safe—drive, and when they’d stepped off the elevator they’d been greeted by MM’s assessing glare and scowl.

“What the hell took you so long.” 

“Um,” Hughie had glanced back to Her—tucked under Ben’s arm—with a stutter of Her name and pallid face. “Do you want to-“ 

“You know what,” MM had run a hand over his face, shaking his head. “I don’t care. Kimiko, you and Frenchie are holding down the fort with Ryan. You three,” he’d turned his glare to Her, Ben, and Hughie. “Get ten minutes to pack. We’re rolling out in fifteen no matter who the fuck is in the limo.”

She’d blinked. “The limo-“ 

“Van’s still scrapped,” MM had muttered. “And we can’t fit six grown ass adults in a minivan or Butcher’s car. We’re renting a limo.”

Ben had no complaints about that. He didn’t have to wear a damn seatbelt in a limo, and it was a very opportune and appropriate place to hold Her in his lap as they drove without groans and pointed glares from their prude fucking team. If a life of luxury had taught him anything, it was that limos were meant to hold beautiful women, and he’d be fucking damned if he didn’t hold his beautiful woman—the most beautiful, perfect fucking woman who he fucking loved—when he was given the opportunity. So he’d let Her pull them back to their apartment, changing as she stuffed their shit into a suitcase, and taken over when her heartbeat became too fucking fast and her glare at their clothing became almost violent.

“I’ve got it,” Ben had walked up behind Her, wrapping his arms over Her shoulders and kissing Her neck until she let out a breath that didn’t sound fucking mechanical. “Don’t lose your damn mind, Sunshine, I can fucking pack.”

She’d nodded slowly, tilting her head back to meet his eyes. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t,” he’d muttered, leaning down to kiss under Her jaw, and felt something light and perfectly fucking mind-numbing wrap around his brain like a crown as she made a high, breathy sound. “Go get changed, darling.” 

She’d let Ben guide her to the dresser, and begun to hum under her breath as she’d changed.

“Rainbow Connection.” He’d grunted as she’d returned to his side, hanging off Ben’s arms as She surveyed his packing job.

Her smile had been all content, easy joy, and Ben whole fucking heart had skipped. Then she’d started to actually fucking sing, and he’d genuinely considered just letting the team leave without them. Her voice was like honey and summer rain and something peaceful and strong that Ben hadn’t heard before Her, and never wanted to stop hearing for the rest of his fucking life. The only thing that kept him from staying here, where She was safe and happy and the whole goddamn world was just color and light and her perfect fucking smile, was that she’d kick his fucking ass if they missed this meeting.

They’d had five more minutes, though. And that was more than enough time for Ben to spin Her around until she was dizzy and giggling, swaying in his arms to the instruments that weren’t really there as She sang, looking at him with such infinite and impossibly fucking ceaseless love.

This was the fucking shit worth fighting for. This was where Ben was goddamn supposed to be. And even as he’d kept his arm over Her shoulder—letting Her drag the suitcase behind them and grabbing his shield before they left the apartment—Ben didn’t fucking want to go. He wanted to stay right here, and let this ungrateful world that kept fucking hurting Her crumble.

But She wouldn’t let that happen, and part of why Ben loved Her—there were countless fucking reasons, and the world would probably be swallowed by the Sun before he’d finished naming them all—was because she loved fucking everything. She had a goddamn unfathomable amount of love to hold in Her body, and most of it might be for Ben, but it still spilled into everywhere that Ben could see. Music sounded better, and jokes were funnier, and water quenched his thirst faster when she was around. The only thing Ben remained at her side was hungry. For more of this fucking beauty, and whatever bit of love She’d spare for him. And as long as She kept loving the world, he’d defend it for her. If Ben had a goddamn say in anything, the world wouldn’t fall to ruin until She told him to burn it.

And She wouldn’t. So Ben had to kiss Her head and mutter that he loved Her—just in case she hadn’t heard him the million other times he’d said it—and stay watchful and dependent at her side. Walk with her to the elevator, out to the parking lot, and over to a sleek, black limo that already had the engine fucking running.

“Bout fucking time,” Butcher had grunted, jerking his head to the limo doors as they approached. “We were two bleedin seconds from leavin you twats behind. I’m drivin, which means I’m in fuckin charge, and that means no hanky panky in my bloody limo.”

She’d wrinkled Her nose as Ben opened the door. “Hanky Panky? What are you, a fucking grandmother? You sound older than he does.” 

Butcher had scoffed as She’d bumped Ben’s shoulder. “Shut it, Love, least I know how fuckin wifi works.” 

“I know how wifi works,” Ben had grumbled into Her ear as Butcher turned away. “You put in the numbers and the radio shows you the internet.”

“That’s,” She’d paused, tilting Her head as Ben pulled her into the limo. ���Not wrong. Good work, Pretty Boy.”

He’d grunted, shifting them until She was on his lap, not sparing a goddamn glance to the rest of the team. “I didn’t fucking miss the old shit, brat. I’m not-“ 

“Fucking old,” She’d grinned at him, voice dropping into that dog shit impression of Ben that She’d only gotten worse at. “You know better than any damn pussy fucker, Sunshine, that I am not old.” 

He’d rolled his eyes, kissing at the base of Her neck, and MM had let out a very loud cough that almost made Ben bash his brains in, because it caused Her beautiful, perfect face to twist away from him.

“Sorry, MM-“

MM had cut Her off with a heavy, almost pained sigh. “It isn’t that shit. I mean, we’d all really appreciate if you toned it the fuck down for the drive, but I’ve given up on trying to stop you motherfuckers from humping like dogs in heat all the goddamn time.”

She’d flushed, and Ben had taken over. “The fuck do you want then-“

“The Cornucopia.” MM had looked between Ben and Her and Hughie with a raised brow. “What the hell is it.”

She’d reached into her jacket pocket, pulled out the keys, and tossed them across the limo to MM. He’d blinked at Her, she’d explained Red River as Ben added some very fucking helpful nods and Hughie jumped in with small, stupid details that didn’t seem like they mattered, but She’d thanked him for anyways. 

And now, after a whole goddamn hour of sitting in the limo, they’d made no progress in figuring out what the fuck to do with the keys. Everyone had coughed up fifty dollars to Annie for Her bet of any item that’s not a bucket—Annie had forgiven Her debt, and Ben had taken Annie’s dish duty for two fucking months to make up for his own—and they’d passed them around the group for everyone to examine like they’d suddenly fucking have Vought Sex Dungeon engraved on the side.

“Maybe they’re to a storage unit?” Annie looked around the group, fidgeting with the keys in her hands, and MM shook his head.

“No, they’d have a label on them. And then we’d have to worry about-“

“What the fuck is in the storage unit.” She mumbled, leaning Her head back onto Ben’s shoulder. “I mean, no matter what those keys probably lead to the actual Cornucopia. It can’t just be keys.”

“But it’s different, right?” Hughie leaned forwards as he spoke, arms on his knees. “If it’s a storage unit, or a box, or, like, a whole building? And it matters that they’re keys, I mean that sort of, um, narrows it down.”

Ben frowned, opening his mouth to ask Hughie how the fuck that narrowed a goddamn thing down, when She squeeze his arm over her stomach.

A lot of Vought buildings don’t use physical keys, they use keycards. And those keys don’t look old, so it’s not a warehouse that just hasn’t been modernized.

Ben reached his hand up to tilt Her head back, moving her full attention from Hughie to him. What the fuck do you think it is.

I don’t know. She sighed, pulling Ben’s arms around her a little tighter. I mean, I have guesses, but-

What are they.

Ben could see Her teeth as they tugged at her lower lip, her fingers tapping against the back of his hand. They’re just theories, and none of them are concrete-

He grunted Her name in his head. Tell me your fucking theories.

They don’t-

If you say matter, I’ll crash the fucking car.

Grumpy. She gave him a fake pout, and Ben hauled her a little further up his chest, kissing the crook of Her neck.

Tell me. I won’t interrupt you, and you can talk them out. That always fucking helps you. 

Her fingers stilled against him, and when Ben pulled back she was watching him with something so gentle and adoring in her eyes it nearly fucking knocked him out. He could feel the full fucking force of Her love, crashing into his body and making everything so good. There was a soft smile playing on Her face, and Ben didn’t understand it. That was the smile she gave him when he said something supportive to Ryan, or grumbled an agreement with Butcher, or exchanged short, curt nods with MM. It was the smile She gave him when he made her pancakes, or proved he’d been listening to Her rant about nothing, or she caught him humming one of her songs in the shower, and none of his scowling or protests could deter her teasing.

I love you, Benjamin. Her voice was almost whispering in his head, and she reached up to trace the lines of his face. I really love you.

I fucking know that-

No, you don’t. She brushed hair from Ben’s eyes, and let out a small sigh. I love you so, so much. I love you, Ben. I really fucking love you.

Something felt almost fucking radiant in Ben’s body. It wasn’t the nuke, because that felt violent and hateful and still fucking painful, even within Ben’s control. This was comfortable and open and so fucking painfully glorious it might drive him mad. It was so goddamn strange, and easy, and he’d felt it before but not quite like this. This felt like when he’d rested against Her, but without any of the pain or the lump of failure in his throat. So—though he still didn’t fully fucking understand what she meant, Ben did know She loved him and never fucking doubted it—he nodded, and dropped his face back to her neck. I love you too, Sunshine. Talk.

It could be an apartment or house that the feds missed. It’s likely Edgar’s and not Vought’s, because if it’s important enough to hide Vought would’ve already taken it. Sage would’ve taken it. Maybe it’s an incredibly well-kept secret, and Sage is looking for it, and that’s why Edgar wants it now. But if it’s that, it’s probably not a house, because what would Sage need with a house. I don’t think it’s going to be something small, because Cornucopia implies plenty, and Edgar isn’t someone who misuses words. My bet is on a warehouse that Edgar’s keeping a lot of shit in. Vanessa seemed worried about what we’d do with it, which makes me think it’s something dangerous. She turned Her head, resting it against Ben’s. But that’s all I have.

Ben rolled his eyes. Still a fuck ton more than everyone else.

Shut up. She whacked Ben’s arm lightly, and he could feel her smile brushing against his forehead. What’s your bet.

My money is on your fucking money, darling.

That’s very sweet, but not the slightest bit helpful.

Tough shit, I’m not changing my answer. Ben nipped at Her slightly, smirking at the small squeak that left her lips. You’re the smartest one here by a damn mile. Money on you is safe fucking money.

Love has made you stupid, Benjamin.

No. He drew back up, his grin unrestrained as he took in Her perfect, pretty face, and her sharp, amused eyes, and all Her fucking love and adoration for, and knew that all of it was fucking his. Ben got to have this. He loved Her like she deserved, so he got to be the one she looked at with a smile and watched like he was everything. Love has made me smart as fuck. Which is why I know to put money on you, beautiful. Because you’re always fucking right.

They were so fucking close, Ben’s breath passing into her mouth, and Christ, She was going to kill him. Her lips had parted slightly, her hands over Ben’s arms—holding them in their rightful place against Her—gripping him like she was going to fall down, and She wanted him. Her thighs were rubbing for friction against his body, and her heartbeat had picked up, and Ben was going to fuck Her in the back of the limo. Everyone else was just going to have to suck it the fuck up, because She fucking wanted Ben and he wasn’t capable of denying her anything. 

Then MM said Her name, and Ben almost bit through this tongue at the way She squirmed above him and made his cock jump, and the way she was still holding onto him, and the fucking smell and feel of Her above him, and Christ he needed to fuck her-

“Catch,” MM grunted, and Ben grabbed the keys flying through the air before She even had time to react. “That wasn’t mean for you-“ 

“Shove it up your ass, MM.” Ben tucked the keys into Her pocket, holding MM’s glare. “What do you want.”

She pinched Ben’s arm. Rude, Benjamin-

He shouldn’t just fucking throw shit at you-

You throw things at me all the time- 

No, I don’t, you throw shit at me all the damn time, because you’re fucking mean to me- 

You’re invincible, Pretty Boy, I think you’ll survive some paper-

MM let out a loud, overdramatic cough. “If you can listen to me for five minutes, I’ll let you dumbasses brain-fuck each other all you want. Think you can make it five fucking minutes?”

Ben had no interest in making it five minutes, and She didn’t either. He’d shifted against Her, pressing himself into her ass, and her breath had hitched as her heart began to stumble in her chest. But She was too fucking kind and good and perfect, so She nodded, and MM continued. 

“You have to keep those on you,” he said, voice firm and jaw set. “And no making any moves with them until we’re all on board, this could be dangerous. That goes for everyone!” MM raised his voice, glare turning to the front of the limo. “That means you, motherfucker. No stealing the keys and going all vigilante!”

Butcher snorted from the front. “I ain’t the one for you to worry about, Mate. If anyone’s goin fuckin rogue, it’s Bonnie and Clyde over there.” 

“We’re not going to go rogue, Butcher.” She flipped off the divider between them and Butcher, a pretty glower on her face. “And if you try to steal the keys, I’ll burn your face off.”

“Fuckin shame, that’s my money maker-“ 

“Can we please not kill each other when there’s still two hours left of the drive?” Hughie had gone all fucking puppy-dog eyed—looking between Her and Butcher’s back like a whining child—and She gave him an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry, Hughie.” She turned back to MM, and She needed to stop wiggling around on Ben’s lap or he’d go fucking insane. “Is that it?” 

When MM nodded, She twisted back around, dropping Her head into Ben’s chest, and sighed. Ben let Her stay there as Hughie, Annie, and MM trailed off into a conversation he wasn’t paying attention to, tangling his fingers in Her hair and kneading at her skin. Her heartbeat was a soft, even hum in Her chest, and he didn’t need to feel Her fingers tapping on his back or hear the chew of her tongue to know She was thinking. He didn’t push it—waiting for Her to speak first—because She fit naturally against him, and nothing in him felt wrong, so She was okay. Just fucking thinking.

Benjamin? 

He hummed Her name back, between their heads, and she exhaled against him. 

We didn’t tell them about the V. The vial of it we found with the keys. 

Ben paused, glancing over at their team. Do you want to.

I don’t know. I, Her arms around him tightened, and She looked up, meeting Ben’s eyes with a frown. I don’t want to give it to Edgar. I don’t trust whatever intentions he has with it. But I don’t want to make more supes. It’s fighting fire with fire, and it’s not- She cut herself off, eyes roaming Ben’s face like she’d find an answer there. It’s not fair.

None of this is fair- 

I know, She sat up a little, hands moving to cup Ben’s jaw. I know this isn’t about fair. But it’s still not fucking fair. I know you asked for this, for the V, but I didn’t. No one else did. And that’s so fucking unfair. It’s so unfair, Ben, and I don’t, I mean. She took a long breath. You remember how much it hurt, I can’t do that to someone. Even for the mission.

He began to trace patterns on Her waist, studying her almost glossy, pleading eyes. She wasn’t spiraling—Her heartbeat was too steady—but she looked lost. Unsure and so fucking tired that it made Ben’s whole head heavy. 

And he needed to help. Ben needed to make this fucking better for Her, whatever it goddamn took.

Do you know why I volunteered for the Vought trials.

She paused, tilting her head at him. To impress your dad, Butcher told me before we woke you up.

Yeah. Ben let out a dry chuckle, holding Her gaze. Did the cockfuck tell you if it worked?

He said it didn’t. Her fingers began to play with the hair of Ben’s beard as She frowned at him. Why?

Because I did this shit to myself, I made myself Soldier Boy, and it didn’t mean a goddamn thing. Everyone loved me, and nobody gave a fuck about me-

I give a fuck about you, She gave him a small, sweet, toothless smile, and Ben didn’t even fucking bother to stop himself from returning it. 

If you’d let me talk, brat, Ben drawled between their heads, dropping his brow to Hers. I’m fucking getting there. I missed my own mother’s funeral because my father somehow managed to outlive her, and I didn’t want to see his old, ugly, evil fucking face. My whole goddamn life was about being Soldier Boy, I never had a single pussy fucker I trusted, and I wasn’t aging so I decided to just keep damn waiting until this proved worth something. And you, he squeezed his arms around her, brushing his lips against Hers in a slight, soft motion. Are worth something. I waited a fucking lifetime, and I found it.

She made a small, choked sound, and Her eyes on Ben’s were filled with all that love he could feel everywhere around him. In Her, and traded between their body, and making everything so fucking good.

I love you, Her voice was soft in his head, her hands holding Ben’s head against Hers. But I don’t-

Ben had to spell it out for Her. He’d expected that. The one fucking thing she never seemed to get was that She was the whole fucking world, and Ben would follow her everywhere. I love you. I fucking adore you, and it’s not fair that you’re cleaning up all the goddamn messes I helped make in your name, before I even fucking knew you.

In my-

I was Soldier Boy to make this shit worth something. Everything I did was for whatever the fuck would be worth something, and that’s you. I was just a fucking dumbass who did it wrong. Love has made me smarter, Sunshine, because I’m doing it right now, but I still did it fucking wrong before. And I made messes, and now the woman I love has to clean them up because none of this shit is fucking fair. That V is my V, that they made to make you, and that’s it. Butcher might end up with us, but it’s you and me. We can flush that V down the toilet, or throw it off a fucking building, but that’s it. It’s not fair for you to make that call, so we’re taking it off the goddamn table.

She was silent for a second, and when She spoke she was combing her fingers through Ben’s hair, mouth dropped in a soft frown. You didn’t make these messes, Ben.

Yeah I know, fucking Homelander- 

No. She gave a small shake of her head. Not Homelander either. That's the worst part, I think. That all of this is so fucking unfair, and no one person can pay for it.

What the fuck are you talking about.

She sighed. I’m saying that I can’t blame anyone. That none of this is fair, and I can’t blame Homelander for all of it. Voguelbaum created him, and Stillwell enabled him, and- 

I fucking helped in making him- 

But they didn’t tell you to. And you didn’t make the system that he’s thrived in. You helped build it, to a degree, but not all of it. And I don’t blame you. I’ve told you that. I’ve never blamed you for how unfair this is, or what happened to me.

And I’ve told you that you fucking should- 

But I don’t. She searched his eyes, her own almost pleading. I really don’t. I love you, Benjamin, and I don’t really care for Soldier Boy, but I haven’t ever blamed you for this. Even before you were my Ben, I never blamed you.

He still didn’t fucking understand Her. She should blame him. This shit was unfair, and they both knew that fair didn’t matter, but Ben would still never be properly fucking worthy of Her. He’d never make up for how he’d set in motion things that had goddamn hurt her. But She was still curled in his lap, calling him mine, and looking at him like he was worth something. 

Why.

Do you know the Bhagavad Gita?

Ben gave Her a flat glare. You know goddamn well- 

It’s Hindu scripture. And there’s a really famous passage that says “I am become death, shatterer of worlds.” It means the soldier isn’t responsible for the deaths of the war. You were, sort of, a soldier. And you did benefit, and you were a real fucking asshole, but you were willingly blind. You committed atrocious, and didn’t think twice, because that’s what soldiers are meant to do. You aren’t a victim, but these messes aren’t just yours. A lot of people helped you make them. Vought gave you compound V, and the government signed off on the trials, and your father told you that you were worthless and you wanted a way to prove him wrong. You were an unstable dick, but you didn’t tell them the solution was to make Homelander. And you didn’t raise Homelander, or tell him to hurt me. You’ve been one of the only people who’s tried to stop him from hurting me, and that’s why I don’t blame you. Many, many people contributed to this, and none of them have ever repented. You’re repenting, and this will always be fucking unfair, but it’s you and me. You’re not a soldier anymore. You’re fighting for people you care about instead of power or glory, and you’re trying to help me fix this, and I love you. And that’s what matters.

She was fucking perfect. Ben hadn’t followed half the damn words She passed down their connection, but he understood the gist. She was still too good, too kind, too fucking forgiving, and She loved him. This wasn’t fucking fair, but he was doing everything in his goddamn power to make it easier for Her, and she fucking loved him. Ben bumped Her nose with his, and a smile tugged at her lips.

Lot of smart fucking words to say you love me and don’t blame me.

Well, you weren’t fucking getting it, Pretty Boy. That’s not my fault. She pressed a light kiss to Ben’s check, humming against his beard. Thank you.

Don’t-

Nope. Thank you. I love you, and thank you.

Ben sighed, and let it the fuck go. He had a lifetime to finally get Her to stop fucking thanking him for things he was supposed to be doing. He was meant to love Her, and listen to her, and hold her like this, so she needed to stop fucking pretending it was some sort of labor he needed thanks for. But for now, as Her head dropped down to his shoulder and she buried her face in his neck—warm breath fanning over his skin, a light touch tracing over his bicep—Ben let this be enough. She—all by her goddamn self—was more than fucking enough, and so he dropped it.

I love you too. He muttered in Her head, something relaxing and blooming in his chest as she smiled against him. Whatever the hell you want to do with the V, we’ll do it. And my vote is flushing it down the goddamn toilet. You and I are strong enough to kick Homelander’s pussy dick into his asshole all by our goddamn selves.

Her nose wrinkled. Gross.

Shut up. He moved his hand to the back of her head, running his fingers through her hair until she was molded against him. You fucking love it.

I do. There was a moment of silence, Her fingers still tracing over Ben’s skin before resting against his chest. Ben?

He grunted, keeping his hand around her and against Her in steady patterns. Circles on her hips and hair wrapped between his fingers, her skin soft under his touch and heartbeat in an even rhythm Ben knew better than his own.

You’re worth something to me as well. 

I know-

No. Let me finish. She pushed up on him, holding his gaze with an almost anguished intensity. You’re worth everything to me. You are everything to me. I love you and adore you and I give so many fucks about you it’s insane. You’re my whole life, Benjamin, now and after. And you make all of this worth something for me as well.

The radiant warmth was everywhere inside of him now, but it was fed by the ache. The way Her voice in his head was pleading, like she needed Ben to understand, and if he didn’t it might hurt her. The way Her hands were curled in his shirt as she held herself up—like she was forcing herself not to collapse against him—and her words were wrapping over Ben’s body and seeping in his skin, all of it born from Her love for him. And it all made the ache in him slide into his throat, and tug at his tongue to say a million fucking things he didn’t have words for.

Simple was easier. The only words that never failed to make Her smile, and set her heart back to an even rhythm. The only thing he fully knew how to be certain of in the entire goddamn universe.

I love you, Sunshine.

Her face split into a soft, gentle smile. I love you too, Benjamin.

She fucking loved him, and that was rooted so deeply inside of Ben that he’d never stray from it. It made him stronger, holding him in a place he knew and loved and wanted to defend. He pulled Her a little higher up his torso, dropping his head to top of her chest and just fucking living there. Where her heartbeat was the loudest, and everything felt fucking good.

They’d worry about all this shit later. They had a whole fucking day ahead of them to worry about Singer and Her stepfather, and Homelander and Mallory and Edgar. And they’d spent months that felt like lives worrying about all these fucking messes, and Ben had spent lives before that making them without ever resting, or feeling fucking satiated by it.

He was satiated here. Leaning into her, with Her legs wrapped around his body and her head resting over his. Her body was slumped over him, every hitched breath when Ben ran a hand up her thigh or traced down her spine brushing against Ben’s ear, and this felt right. This felt fucking right, and Ben didn’t think he’d felt something this plainly natural in his life. It kept amazing him—over and fucking over—how he’d spent his whole life tearing things apart when all he’d had to do was fucking wait. It had made it easier when She’d been away from him and asked him to just wait for Her, because he had a lifetime of goddamn practice waiting for Her already. Waiting for something that wasn’t fucking salvation—because She hadn’t fixed him or saved him, that was fucking stupid—but better.

She wasn’t a cure. She was too silently wrathful to be a cure, made of too many sharp, spiking parts that she cut off for others to consume for Her to be a cure. She wasn’t for others, she just didn’t know how not to be. She was something that was meant to be worshipped, that had been made into a fucking offering. Turned into something like a cure, but never able to do it right, because it’s not what she was supposed to be.

Cures were made for something deadly and diseased. And Ben wasn’t a fucking saint, but he wasn’t sick. He’d just been angry. He’d been furious and bitter and vigilant, so he’d made himself lonely half by choice and half by how vicious his bite was when he was wronged.

She bit too. She didn’t cower or maul or run. She just bit back, and Her bite was a match to his. Less brute force, but more targeted. Right into Ben’s neck, and feeding something in him he hadn’t known was hungry. So She wasn’t a fucking cure, because cures took things away. She’d made him more. Given him something he’d always wanted, and never known existed. And now Ben would always be hungry, but he’ll be satiated. He found purpose. He’d had waited his whole fucking life for purpose, and it was Her. This was a goddamn purpose, something he was meant to do and be and have and give.

Are you hungry?

Ben leaned back, meeting Her eyes with a frown. What. 

I’m thinking about dinner. We’re staying in a hotel tonight, and the meeting with Singer isn’t until the morning, and I’m hungry. 

She gave him a fake pout, and Ben seriously fucking considered throwing Butcher out of the car to get Her to a fucking McDonalds. She probably liked McDonalds, everyone fucking liked McDonalds, and she always ate Ben’s burgers, so it wasn’t like they’d get fucked by the menu.

Just in case, he asked, What do you want?

She hummed, her fingers tapping against Ben’s jaw. What do hotels usually have? Lobster? Do they have lobster? 

Fancy hotels have lobster. And if this one doesn’t, I’ll find you some- 

Ben. She gave him a flat look, even as Her love swept through him like a wildfire. Where are you going to find me lobster. 

I don’t fucking know, the ocean- 

We’re on a river, those don’t have lobsters. 

Ben rolled his eyes. Fine, smartass, another restaurant- 

They’d make you pay for that, Pretty Boy, and we’re broke. If you keep losing bets at this rate, you’ll be on dish duty until after we kill Homelander.

What the fuck else am I supposed to do, they won’t forgive my debts like they do yours- 

Because you lose all the time. She shrugged, dropping Her brow to Ben’s as she smiled at him. And I cover you, when I have the money. 

We should both have the fucking money. Ben’s hands gripped Her body against him, and she must have read his next thought on his face, because She frowned and shook her head. 

Do not use the meeting with Singer to demand a pay raise, Benjamin. That’s not what it’s for. 

It’s not a pay raise, my love, it’s a fucking union. You and I aren’t going to do more of their shit for them until they give us some goddamn money- 

We both know we’re not going to unionize. She sighed, her breath passing into Ben’s m. We might not be legally dead anymore, but we’re still not CIA employees. 

We should be-

You’d have to do an interview with Mallory. Amusement danced in Her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. And they’d run a background check. You can’t even do a background check, Benjamin, your social security number is negative five. 

Shut up. I am not fucking old, and we still need some goddamn money. I’ll tongue Butcher’s taint before I become these pussies fucking maid-

We’ll make money. She pressed a kiss to the corner of Ben’s mouth. If escorts don’t pan out, we can try birthday parties. I know a guy who has a very authentic Soldier Boy costume, and I think he’ll let me borrow it if I give him a blowjob.

Ben snorted. He’d let you borrow it if you asked him real pretty and made him a bagel, Sunshine, but I’m not doing fucking birthday parties- 

You wouldn’t even have to talk. I’d stand behind a curtain, and I can say everything for you. The kids would never know the difference. She grinned as Her voice in Ben’s head dropped to that gravelly impression of him. Hi, I’m Soldier Boy. New York. Eagles. Baseball. Boobs. Don’t do crack, kids, do Benzedrine. Don’t wear blue, it’s a pussy color, wear green. And if you’re ever in a fight, go for the other guy’s dick. I’m a million fucking years old, and I sing Rainbow Connection in the shower when I think nobody can hear, and I know you can fucking hear me Sunshine, but you don’t goddamn count-

Ben buried his head in Her neck, sucking and biting that one spot until her words trailed off into a tiny whimper.

Brat.

Cunt. Her voice was soft and needy, and Ben smirked against Her, kissing a wet trail up her jaw and over her face. Ben-

I love you so fucking much, Sunshine. He kissed around her pretty, already open mouth, trailing his tongue over her lips. And if we didn’t have company, I’d fuck you right here.

Ben felt Her heartbeat pick up under his careful, firm touches, but she didn’t pull away. We get our own room tonight, She let out a small, breathy sigh as Ben deepened the kiss. If you can keep it in your pants for a little while longer, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.

How much longer.

She pulls away from him slightly, reaching between their bodies to grab Her phone. She paused as she swiped at Her screen, looking up at Ben with a frown. We really need to get you another phone-

Later. How much longer until I get to fuck you. 

She wrinkled her nose at him. Horny old man- 

Needy fucking brat. Ben shifted Her above him, letting his half-hard cock push between Her thighs, gritting his teeth as her legs tightened around him. How much- 

An hour. She dropped her phone back between their bodies, wrapping her arms around Ben’s neck and lowering her face so their cheeks brushed. Think you can make it? 

Ben scoffed, moving one hand down to squeeze at Her ass and smirking at her soft squeak in his ear. I’ll manage, Sunshine. 

He wasn’t going to manage. They fell into an easy silence, Her body curled over Ben’s and her hands playing thoughtlessly with the hair at the nape of his neck, and the longer they stayed like that the more he needed her. She still smelled like that flower shampoo, but there was grass lingering over it, and a third smell that invaded Ben’s senses and so clearly just fucking Her. It was like the goddamn apples in their apartment, and chocolate, and warm smoke and the fucking sun. Ben didn’t have a better way to put it, because really it was just fucking Her. Like an aphrodisiac or song that tugged on something in his brain and called him home. Back to Her, closer to Her, always with Her.

It probably fucking was Her. That piece of her that was alive inside of him, growing stronger and stronger the longer it stayed. 

Ben had no fucking intention of letting it leave. If holding Her like this—sitting in complete goddamn silence and caring for every perfect piece of her in his arms and mind—was what this part of Her needed to thrive, he’d hold her like this forever. She lived in Ben because he was safe to her. She given this part of her to him—even if She hadn’t actually meant to—and he’d never fail Her and let it feel pain. 

He fucking loved Her, and she was all around him in every fucking way but the one that was starting to strain at his pant, and that sense of her everywhere wasn’t doing him any favors to make it through the hour. He wanted to make that piece of Her light up inside him, watch her perfect, beautiful face grow blissfully relaxed and adoring as he worshiped Her. Prove to Her that he thought she was too fucking kind and good for anyone at all, but he’d never let Her be wrong about him. If She said that Ben was repenting, he’d do whatever trial was laid out before him to prove Her right.

But as much as he wanted to bury himself deep inside of Her and mutter praise he meant and promises he’d always fucking keep, the hum of Her heart was growing slower and softer, and Ben realized she’d fallen asleep. He could feel a small amount of drool on his neck—her hair tickling his nose and her grip on his neck becoming slack—and he couldn’t stop the small smile that crept over his face. She was fucking safe here, where Ben was allowed to touch her in small ways that made her hum in sleep against his skin. Where he could trace patterns on Her hips, keep a steady arm around her waist, and let a hand move slowly up her spine to tangle in her hair until she fell further into him was a content sigh. Ben kept his breathing even and slow, his eyes on the rest of their team in a warning of keep it the fuck down, or I’ll crack your head open, so nothing could disturb her sleep.

She didn’t have a single fucking nightmare. No smoke rose from Her body, and no distressed, strangled sounds escaped her mouth. Everything in Ben felt right and a little high, so he knew she was really, truly, really fucking good. And when the limo finally stopped and Butcher turned to address them from the front, Ben’s respect for their team fucking doubled as a chorus of hissed be quiets filled the limo.

Butcher scoffed. “She’s a big girl, she don’t need a nap-“

“Butcher,” MM whispered, his tone and expression venomous. “If you wake her up, I’m not going to stop Soldier Boy from killing you.” 

“Oh, come off it, Mate-“ 

“She never sleeps well, you asshole,” Annie’s voice was hushed, her eyes turning to Ben’s. “When was the last time she had a real, full night of sleep?” 

Ben couldn’t fucking remember. Even after she’d stopped taking the suppressants, she still woke up screaming and wrapped and fire and sobbing about fucking blood. She fell back asleep easier now, but Ben had received countless fucking burns across his arms and face as he held Her down, trying to bring her back to earth before she flew off the bed and burned right through the fucking roof. She always healed the twisted for him if they weren’t gone by morning, and Ben always fucked Her after to chase off any useless goddamn guilt in her eyes, but it kept happening. He didn’t know how to fix it, other than only staying, just like she’d asked. 

Annie must have seen the clench of his jaw—images of Her perfect face empty and hollow and broken flashing in Ben’s brain, echoes of her screams ringing in his ears—because she turned back to Butcher with a glare. “You just have to lower your voice, Butcher. Don’t be a dick.”

Butcher’s attention darted to Her—still steadily asleep against Ben—and rolled his eyes as he dropped his voice. “We got four rooms, and all the lovey dovey cunts will be sharin.” Butcher threw keycards to MM and Ben, who caught their’s with ease, and Hughie, who made a small yelp as Annie’s arm shot out, catching it for him. “Meetin with Singer is at 8am, and we got to be there at 7. You lot will meet me here at 6, and I don’t want to see your sorry fuckin faces until then.”

Ben could live with that. It was a little past midnight, and six hours of sleep was a fuck ton more than She usually got, so he’d take it and rest at Her side until morning. He shifted Her in his arms—moving her carefully up his chest, looping one arm under her knees—and carried her out of the limo, into the back entrance of the hotel, and up the stairs. MM had grabbed their suitcase, and Ben gave him a silent, firm nod as MM pushed into their room.

A hand shot out before Ben could kick the door closed, and MM’s gaze bore into Ben’s skull, his voice low. “She okay?” 

She would be. As long as Ben could do a goddamn thing about it, She’d be okay for the rest of her fucking life. “She’s good,” Ben grunted, glancing down to Her perfect, peaceful face, half smushed into his shoulder, hair falling over her eyes. So fucking beautiful, and happily where she belonged. “I’m taking care of her.”

He wasn’t sure why he said that. It certainly wasn’t for MM’s fucking approval, because the only person whose approval mattered was Hers. And Ben did take care of Her. He took very fucking good care of Her, because he fucking loved her, and she was the most important person in the world. And he sure as fuck didn’t need to say that he took care of Her, because he proved that he did in his every waking moment. 

Even right fucking now Ben was carrying her to bed, holding Her like she was something holier than life—she was—and planning to stay at Her side all night. Wrap his arms around her and hold her in the dark, then march at her side in the morning to face whatever the hell Singer had ready for them. And then he’d figure out where they kept lobster in DC, and get her some. And that’s what fucking mattered. Showing Her she was good. Only saying he was taking care of her wouldn’t mean a goddamn thing if he didn’t keep doing it, over and over and over until they were the last people left in the world, and a long while after that.

But MM gave a short nod, and Ben realized that the man had just believed him. MM might not fully trust Ben—and if he was being completely fucking honest that was still an understandable call, Ben would shoot everyone in the fucking head if they became a threat to Her or Ryan—but he trusted Ben with this. With Her. He trusted that when Ben said she’s good, he was telling the truth. 

And he was. With a muttered reminder from MM not to be late in the morning and the door closing—leaving Ben and Her alone, together with the nightlights of the city casting shadows over her sleeping features—She was happy. Content as Ben laid her down on the bed, keeping one hand on her thigh as he unzipped their suitcase. He found one of his softer shirts and—a little selfishly, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad or give a fuck because She wore his clothing all the goddamn time anyway—changed her into it. She shouldn’t sleep in fucking jeans or her bra, so Ben carefully stripped her down—every movement debilitate and slow and silent so as not to disturb or wake her—and pulled his shirt over her body, kissing her brow before sitting at the edge of their bed and trying to figure out how the fuck to get them food.

This wasn’t the same hotel as last time, but shit had always worked the same at every hotel in history, so Ben figured it out. He read the directory, called room service, and ordered everything.

“And, um,” a nervous, soft-voiced woman was on the other end of the line, listing off more shit for Ben to add to his list. “Would you like dessert, sir?”

“Of course I want fucking dessert-“

Don’t be mean to the hotel staff, Benjamin. Ben cut himself off as Her arms wrapped around his torso, and looked down to see her head in his lap, her face buried in his abdomen. They’re doing their best, and it’s late. 

Ben sighed, letting his free hand wander into her hair, and grunted into the phone, “dessert is good. Add it.” 

“Do you have anything in mind, or would you like, um, all of it too?” 

Sunshine- 

I’d like ice cream. She hummed against him, and Ben felt her soft smile against his body. Whatever flavor you want. 

“Ice cream,” Ben muttered, his eyes locked on Her, tucked and resting against him, so fucking perfect. “Vanilla. Two of them.” 

A small giggle escaped Her. You’re very predictable, Pretty Boy. 

Shut the fuck up. 

“That will come to,” Ben heard the lady on the other end swallow, and there was a moment of static silence on the phone. “$492. Are you sure-“

“Get me the fucking food lady, and I’ll give you a 20% tip.” 

Ben had no idea how much that would be, but the woman seemed happy with it, because she gave him an eager agreement before hanging up the line. 

“Food will be here soon,” Ben muttered Her name, and his heart might’ve stopped fucking working when she rolled over in his lap, a beautiful, sleepy expression on her perfect face. “You’re-“ 

“Don’t say tired, or I’ll punch you.” She grumbled, poking at Ben’s chest with a pout. “You���re not allowed to do that right now.”

“I didn’t do fucking shit-”

“You were going to,” she mumbled, face flushing. “You were going to make me go to sleep.” 

“We both know,” Ben drawled, smirking as he traced his thumb over her lips. “That I can’t make you do anything, darling. You never fucking listen to me.”

She buried her face back into Ben’s body, words muffled against his skin. “Fuck you.”

“I did promise to.” He hummed, glancing at the red numbers on their bedside table, reading 12:49. “But you need fucking sleep. We’re moving real damn early tomorrow, and you-“

“How early?”

“Six.”

She sighed against him, and Ben felt the alarm of wrong. Something is very wrong, because She’s hurting and that’s the worst fucking thing in the universe. 

He grunted Her name, pulling lightly at her hair. “Look at me.” 

When She rolled fully onto her back—Her eyes not hollow, but glossed over and soft—she just watched him. Waited for Ben to speak, one of her hands reaching up to touch his jaw, the whole fucking world just them. Together.

“What’s wrong. And don’t say nothing-“

“I don’t want to go tomorrow.” She whispered, and Ben froze. She sounded so fucking tired, and it was wrapping around his head and dragging his body down. Down to Her, to soothe her, to touch her and fucking fix this. “I know we have to, but I don’t want to, Ben. I’m,” she took a heavy breath. “I don’t want to.” 

“Then we fucking won’t.” He snapped. It was pretty goddamn simple. He’d steal them a car, and they’d drive home. The rest of the team could handle this, and that was fucking that- 

“We need to.” She gave Ben a small, sad smile, and he felt like someone was fucking stabbing him. “You know we need to. I have to be there for this-“ 

“You don’t have to-“ 

“I do.” She sat up, twisting until their legs were tangled and she was leaning against him, holding Ben’s face in her hands. “I have to. I need to see him.” 

Ben's arms wrapped around Her body as he scanned over her face. Only inches from his, so goddamn sad and tired, a so fucking beautiful. “Muller.”

She nodded, and Ben’s was going to break his teeth. For that pussies' own sake, Muller better be too much of a goddamn coward to show face tomorrow, or Ben would damn the consequences and kill him. V or no V, he was still someone that was fucking hurting Her. As She spoke her voice was too quiet, and her eyes looked so goddamn far away, and Ben felt fucking sick.

“He never,” She swallowed, and Ben remained silent. Right now his job was to fucking listen, and he was damn good at it. Rubbing circles on her lower back, holding whatever of her gaze she gave him, and watching her the whole time. “He never acknowledged I was dead. Or alive. Or anything.” She sighed, leaning her brow against Ben’s. “I don’t want to talk to him, Ben. I don’t want to hear what he believes.”

“Believes-“ 

“About me.” She mumbled, Her eyes closed and heartbeat not fast, but uneven. “What Homelander and Sage have said, what Annie’s said, and-“ She shook her head, nose brushing Ben’s. “Everything. All of it. What I’ve done, and what happened to me. Who I might be, if I’m a whore, or bitch, or liar, or traitor-”

Ben muttered Her name, waiting for her to look at him before he spoke. “You’re not any of that. He’s not your fucking family. He’s a worthless pussy, and if he believes the wrong shit it doesn’t change the goddamn truth.”

“I know. I know, it doesn’t, but-“ 

“No.” Ben moved at hand up, pulling one of Hers off his face as kissing her knuckles. “No fucking but-“ 

“Please,” Her voice was barely a breath, and Ben’s whole body hurt as he fell silent.“I’m not worried about Muller, Ben. I’m worried about my,” Her hand tangled in Ben’s, her grip like iron as she took a long breath. “I’m worried about my mom. He’s just an extension of her, and whatever he believes-” 

She cut Herself off with a half-sob, and Ben let smoke curl between their fingers, not flinching away as heat started to burn his skin. He’d hold Her through this fall and catch Her at the end. He’d always fucking catch her, but he knew she had to fall first. Ben had to hear everything spiraling through her insane, perfect brain so he could get his words fucking right when it was his turn to speak.

“I,” She took a shaking breath, and there was something tight and curled in her throat that Ben could feel. “I know I shouldn’t care. It’s been years, and I shouldn’t care, and I’ve had worse things-“ She made another strangled noise, her heart bouncing around her ribs. “Worse things happen to me since. But it still hurts, everything hurts. She said I wasn’t strong enough to be alone, Homelander said I’m not strong enough, and I’m not, Ben, I’m not. I’m so tired. And I’m so sick of being tired, but I’m not, I’m not strong enough to just fucking be better-“

That was enough. Ben had all he fucking needed to pull Her back down, and he’d be damned if he let Her think for another fucking second that she wasn’t fucking everything. 

“You don’t need to be fucking better, you are better.” Ben tilted his head up, her words falling into soft tears that made something flail around in his gut, and kissed the space between her eyes as he muttered against her skin. “No matter fucking what, you’re better. You’re not whatever the fuck they think you are. Any of them. They don’t know you, Sunshine, I fucking know you. And you’re smart and good and kind and beautiful and a goddamn powerful fucking problem and you’re perfect. You’re fucking perfect, so stop being stupid.”

She made a choked sound, fully falling against him, and as her arms wrapped around Ben’s neck all Her love bloomed in his body. It hurt, it fucking ripped him apart inside as she sobbed into him, shaking slightly in his hands and clinging to him like he was an anchor. Something holding Her together, that she trusted to keep her safe, and She fucking did. Because Ben folded his body over hers, and touched her right, and waited for this to pass. It always fucking passed, and they both knew it would return, but then they’d just wait it out together once more. Every single fucking thing would pass but them. She’d stay planted in Ben, covering everything in him and the world, and if they burned they’d burn together. And that was where the love in her made this pain worth it by a million fucking fold. Because this hurt—this killed Ben and lined cracks along his skull, twisting and rotting something in his heart—but then it passed, and everything was warm. Turning the rot to smoke, healing every crack, and spreading through Ben’s veins like a fucking drug. Like something sacred, that everyone chased but Ben got to have. That he’d somehow managed to earn, just by loving Her and caring for her and staying.

So when this passed, and Her breathing still ragged but her heart growing even, Her voice in Ben’s head was soft but not weak. She couldn’t be fucking weak if she tried. I’m sorry.

Before Ben could grunt between them for her to never fucking apologize, She looked up at him with a beautiful, full-lipped, toothless smile, her face glistening with evaporated tears. 

What’s- 

I don’t think this is how meeting the parents is supposed to go. I think we’re supposed to have dinner at an Olive Garden and not talk about Homelander at all.

Ben snorted, kissing the top of Her head. I don’t give fuck about Olive Garden- 

That’s not very family-oriented of you, Benjamin- 

And I don’t give a fuck about your parents. I care about you, Sunshine, and I have no fucking interest in impressing idiots pussies who don’t. 

Her love was fucking infinite in Ben’s body, and nobody had ever fucking looked at him like that but Her. Like She believed him, but didn’t believe he was real. Would you, um, I mean I know we’ve been keeping Violet away from this, but after, my dad and my other siblings- 

He grunted Her name between them, and a pretty flush covered her face. Whoever you want me to meet, I will. But if I think they’re being asshole cockheads, I’m not fucking standing for it. I love you, and nobody is allowed to tell you who the fuck you are- 

You tell me who I am all the time, She gave him an amused look. You literally just told me who I was.

Ben rolled his eyes. That’s not the fucking same. I’m not a pussy dumb fuck talking out of my ass, you’re the love of my fucking life and you were being an idiot. You’re not weak, and I’m not going to let people who don’t goddamn know shit tell you that you are- 

She kissed him, soft and sweet, her hands gliding up his chest to hold his jaw. Thanksgivings are going to be really awkward, if you call my family a bunch of fucking pussies the whole time.

Ben smirked against her. Good thing those pussies aren’t invited to our thanksgiving.

Who is-

Nobody. It’s going to be me, you, and a massive fucking sex marathon. 

She giggled, and even though the sound was quiet, it was real. She was fucking happy, here, with Ben. Not even going to pretend we’ll invite our friends? 

No. Ben twisted his face in half-mocked disgust. We’re going to need the entire goddamn turkey to ourselves, to make sure you have enough energy. I will not have you fucking tagging out before we get started. 

All I hear, She pulled back, and that was Her full smile. Her wide, infinite smile that contained the whole universe and was made of something so fucking bright and vital Ben would never find anything like it if he tried. Is that you’re not denying they’re our friends. 

Ben’s eyes narrowed. Impossibly clever, beautiful, perfect fucking woman, backing him into corners and knowing him too fucking well. He didn’t have an argument out of it, because if he said they weren’t she’d push it and win—something starting with our friends care about me, and ending with and you trust them with Ryan and I—and if he just agreed he’d never hear the goddamn end of it, so his only avenue was to roll her onto her back, leaving sloppy, wet kiss all over her face as she laughed and let out blissful sighs, muttering brat and fucking love you, Sunshine against her skin and down her throat right up until someone knocked on the door.

Her eyes grew comically wide as Ben dumped their order of food on the hotel table, her face falling into a plainly adorable gape as she looked up at him. “Did you order thanksgiving? I can’t eat all of this-“

“Then take whatever the fuck you want,” Ben looped his arm around Her waist, kissing the top of her head as she leaned onto his shoulder. “And I’ll eat whatever you don’t.”

She smiled at him, tilting her head to kiss his cheek, and hummed against him. “I can’t believe I’m in love with a dog.”

He scowled. “I am not a fucking dog-“

“You are, my love. You’re a massive fucking puppy, and I adore you.” 

Ben is pretty goddamn sure his heart stopped working and then got jumpstarted within the same fucking millisecond. She’d tugged herself away from him—filling up one of the paper plates hotel services had brought up before shuffling back to the bed, waiting for Ben to join her with a patient, expectant gaze—and he had to make his feet move. He’d wanted to stay there for the rest of his fucking life, where She’d called him my love, and he’d understood why her heart always skipped when Ben said it. He was Her’s. Every single fucking part of Ben was Her’s, and he couldn’t even bring himself to be mad about the dog comment, because She was fucking right. He’d follow her everywhere, and snarl at what threatened her, and taking whatever fucking scraps she offered him of her love.

He’d never have enough of Her love. It was better than any drug or drink or high, and it was for Ben. It was all goddamn his, and if that meant he had to be a fucking pathetic dog for Her, then so goddamn be it. Anyone would do that, love Her how she asked, because it made Her fucking smile and chased off the pain faster.

And Ben had learned that, in his life, he’d really only despised two people. He’d hated a lot of people, but that was hatred born of vengeance and a sour, white-hot fury that had festered in his body for most of his life and found an avenue out through the drums. Despising people wasn’t the same. It was born of true, raw, pure disgust and loathing. A channel for that fury that wasn’t about Ben’s own anger, but about twisting and morphing the fury into ardor and zealous protection. Turning the drums and wrath into something better, that targeted the only two pussy fucking idiots who made Her fucking cry. The only two asshole cum-fucks who knew exactly how to hurt Her, and weaponized it, making Her sob against Ben as she broke.

Nobody made Her fucking cry but Homelander and her mother. She made herself cry sometimes, but that wasn’t the fucking same. That was born of how much She cared and loved everything, and how she seemed to remember every goddamn thing anyone ever said and took it as gospel—when it fucking wasn’t—to who she was. When Homelander and her mother made Her cry, it was born of something evil. Something evil and cold and horrid and covered in bile and guts to carve her open. 

Ben would kill Homelander, if not for the world, for Her. And despite the truth that he had no fucking interest in trying to entertain anyone in Her life who made her fucking cry like that, he still wanted to meet her mother. Not to kill her, but just put the fear of God in her. Make the woman understand that her daughter was a goddamn miracle on Earth, and Ben was going to love Her until it was just them in a ruined world, watching the stars and laying in the grass and smiling. He’d love her like the perfect, dangerous, beautiful thing that had crawled to him covered in blood and dirt and grime that she was, wrapped in fire and still seeking warmth. Ben wanted to sneer at Her mother to never try to fucking bother them, because if the woman said one wrong thing to Her, Ben wouldn’t tolerate it. There wasn’t a fucking chance he was letting anyone make her look all fucking sad, when She was meant to be happy. He might not cut out tongues when people misstepped, but he’d stay wrapped around Her, a silent reminder to the world—to Her mother—that Ben loved Her, and she’d always fucking have him. However She wanted Ben, she’d get him. 

Ben would always hate that she never got to meet his mother, because they’d have fucking loved each other. His mother would’ve liked Her, a bit because everyone fucking liked Her, but mostly because She was better than Ben was. She was better thanany other pussy in the universe, and She was smart, and kind, and clever, and the type of beautiful his mother would’ve said made gods jealous. That was what his mother had always said he should find, even after he’d become Soldier Boy,and he’d never fucking gotten what the hell it meant before Her. He’d had countless beautiful women in his bed, and not one would’ve made gods jealous. They were just beautiful. There was so much fucking beauty in the world, and Soldier Boy got all of it, and Ben had decided that the made gods jealous shit was just something a mother told her son. 

He got it now though. She was the type of beauty that made gods fucking jealous. Because she was the type of beautiful they wrote stories about, made art and castles and temples for, and searched through the world to learn more words for beauty just to fucking compare Her to. And all the beauty in the universe lived inside of Her, and she was fucking perfect. So Ben’s mother would’ve loved Her, because she carried Ben’s whole fucking world just by existing. He’d have sat in silence as they talked about whatever the fuck mothers and daughters talked about, and She’d have hit him halfway through the conversation to ask him his opinion, then made a joke about his opinion with joy and love in Her eyes and Ben’s body, and he’d have smiled at Her, and when they stood up to leave his mother would’ve hugged Her and that would’ve been it. It would’ve confirmed something that Ben already fucking knew, but still wanted his mother to know as well. 

And something still sour and angry in Ben wished he could introduce Her to his father. One, quick meeting just to say fuck you, you old pussy. I am worth something, because I’m repenting, and I’m fighting for people I care about, and the most perfect woman in fucking history loves me, and she’s never wrong. Ben wouldn’t let his father speak to Her—he barely deserved to be in Her presence—but he’d brag about her. Tell his father that She was a brilliant fucking woman, and a fucking doctor, and never took any goddamn shortcuts, and She loved Ben. To tell his father that their last name would die with him, and he’d rot in a grave for the rest of time while She and Ben were fucking happy, and Ben gave her the world. 

He’d give this perfect fucking menace—curled at his side, wearing his shirt and eating chicken nuggets like a fucking animal—whatever she wanted or needed and asked for. His lungs and heart and guts out of his body, the sun to hold in her hands, a hundred fucking trees planted in her name. Ben would offer his life on a silver platter for Her to do whatever she pleased with it, which is why he almost snorted when She started stealing looks at his food, chewing on her lips and eyeing his fries like she hadn’t just practically fucking inhaled her own. 

He dumped them onto her plate without a word, and when Her face lit up with joy he didn’t fucking understand how anyone could fucking think to hurt Her. He was a little bias—not everyone was as fucking genius as Ben was to love her, or strong enough to be loved by her—but he still just didn’t goddamn get it. How a single goddamn pussy fucker could look at Her and consider being cruel to her. Even when he thought back to the beginning, Ben had never wanted to hurt her. He’d found Her annoying, and been mad about the whole borderline blackmailing shit, but he’d never wanted to make her cry. Her crying had always set off something primal and feral and confusing in his body, making his every thought this is fucking wrong. Something like Her shouldn’t hurt or be in pain. 

Ben coughed, and her pretty eyes shot up to meet his with a little bit of sauce hanging on her lip. Sauce that Ben got to wipe off with his thumb, eat, and smirk as Her mouth remained parted and her heart kicked into a faster gear.

“Ben-“

“I haven’t had a thanksgiving since the 50s.” Ben grunted, and wasn’t fucking sure where this was coming from. All he did know was that She fell silent to listen, and the words started to fucking vomit out of him, and he needed Her to understand that She was his family. That he’d never allow himself to be someone who made her cry. “And it was fucking shit. Food was fine, drinks were weak, and I went because my mother begged me to. Nobody seemed to get why I was there, my own family didn’t fucking know me because my father didn’t let my mom talk about me, and all I did the whole night was answer fucking Soldier Boy questions.” 

She blinked at him. “What are Soldier Boy questions?” 

“What was the war like,” Ben grunted. “If I shoot you will it hurt. Think you can fucking outdrink me or beat me in a race. Elvis and Sinatra a good time, Garland a good fuck. I wore my fucking supe suit there because I’d be shipping off to film some fucking movie in the morning, and my father didn’t look at me the whole time. I left early, and that was the fucking end of it. But,” Ben swallowed, and suddenly this was impossibly fucking difficult. He had to get this right. “I’d try it again. I could kill a turkey and you could burn it, and if you want the team we could fuck after they leave-“

“Ben.”

He cut himself off, and Her smile was so simply fucking sweet. It wasn’t the syrupy, over exaggerated and slightly crude one she gave when people tried to make her be nice when the situation didn’t fucking call for it. This was all fucking love and affection and want for Ben.

“When we get to November,” she whispered, and Ben’s whole body was frozen in place. As if, should he blink, he’d miss a single word or moment of her love. “I’d love to do thanksgiving with you and the team. I’d love to do anything with you, except killing the turkey.” Her nose wrinkled. “That’s gross.”

She’d love to do anything with him. She’d love to do anything with Ben.

“Good,” he muttered, moving their plates off to the side and pulling her with him towards the headboard, moving her to rest between his legs, his arms wrapping over her stomach as he kissed her neck and hummed in her ear. “Whatever the fuck you want, beautiful, as long as you’re not cooking.”

She twisted around in his hold, pushing his chest lightly as he grinned at her. “Fucking rude, Benjamin. I can cook perfectly well now, and I certainly a whole lot better than you are-“

“You’re better at most things than I am,” Ben shrugged. “And fuck me for trying to stop everyone from eating your piss-poor pie and getting fucking poisoned-“ 

“You love my pie. You won’t shut the fuck up about my pie.” There was a smug, proud look in her eyes at her dogshit innuendo, and Ben snorted. 

“That might be the only thing you’re not good at,” Ben said her name, kneading his hands against her skin. “That didn’t even make goddamn sense-“ 

“Fuck you, Ben, you got hard-“ 

“Because you’re fucking sitting on me, darling.” He leaned down, nipping at Her lower lip. “And that will always make me hard.” 

Her heart stumbled in her chest. “Shut up.” 

“No. I love you, and I’m never going to fucking apologize for wanting to fuck my woman.” Ben winked at Her. “And I always want to fuck you.” 

She cleared her throat, and her gaze was suddenly sharp. Her love still lived in Ben—running up and down his spine, eternal and so fucking powerful it might consume him, and he’d let it—but Her fingers were tapping on Ben’s chest, the gears of Her impossibly brilliant mind turning behind her eyes. 

“Ben?” 

He grunted, the grunt she’d said meant he was listening to her, and she let out a long breath. 

“Do you, have you thought about after?”

“After what.” 

“After this.” She made a gesture to the air, eyes still locked onto Ben’s. “All of this. If we kill Homelander-“ 

“When. When we fucking kill Homelander-” 

She gave him a flat look. “When we kill Homelander. What do you, um, what do you want after?” 

Ben knew exactly what he fucking wanted. Her. Whatever way he got to have her, he wanted her. But he didn’t know how to say that without sounding like a fucking dumbass, so he hesitated. One fucking second too long, because something is her eyes looked wounded, and Ben had to talk right fucking now. She deserved to be told with all the fucking poetry and art in the fucking universe, but that wasn’t Ben. He didn’t know how the hell to do that, but she also didn’t want anyone but Ben, so he settled on his way. The blunt, clear as fucking day truth.

He said Her name, moving a hand up to cup her cheek, letting his thumb run over her cheekbone. “Whatever the hell you want, I want as well. That’s fucking that.” 

“But I want to knowwhat you want.” She mumbled, hands fisting in his shirt. “I, I just want to hear about it. Don’t worry about, um,” her tongue peaked out from her lips, her chewing becoming rapid with Her heart. “Anything. What I’ll think, how I’ll react. I just want to know.” 

Ben’s hand on her hips stilled, and he clung to Her—alive inside him—to make sure She was serious. He had the feeling they both knew what Ben wanted, but he’d had no desire to say it aloud. Not when Homelander was still fucking alive, still trying to hurt her, and had been so fucking close to crossing that final, horrible, unspeakable line once more barely a few months ago.

But She was content inside of him. There wasn’t any sickness or cold or sense of wrong, only the pleading look in Her eyes and her hands turning the fabric of Ben’s shirt between them as she waited. 

“Swear that if you start to-“ 

“I’ll stop you,” She whispered, holding Ben’s gaze. “I promise. Please tell me.” 

“I want this.” He muttered, a careful ear on Her heart for the slightest stutter. “I want you and me, for the rest of fucking time.” 

He stopped, and hoped that was enough. And of course, it fucking wasn’t. 

She dropped her face on his shoulder. “And?” 

“That’s it-“ 

“Where do you want us to be?” She mumbled, and Ben could feel her eyes on his as she turned her head. “Rome? A little no name town? New York, LA-“

“No. Not fucking LA-“ 

“Then where-“ 

“Wherever the fuck you are, I’ll be fine-“ 

“Ben.” His eyes moved to watch her without his fucking permission. “I want to know what you want-“ 

“That is what I fucking want.” He grunted. “I just fucking want you and whatever the hell you want I’ll be good with. I don’t give a fuck where we are, because I’ll be there with you, and that’s what I want. If you want a little fucking postcard town, then we’ll go there. I’ll get a job in the woods so I don’t have to see anyone but you, and you can do whatever the fuck you want all day. If you want Rome, we’ll get you there and do the escort plan until we have a fucking mansion, and I’ll fuck you in every corner of it. If you ask I’ll fuck you full of kids, until we can run our own goddamn little league.” Ben had started, and now he couldn’t fucking stop. “If you want to stay in New York, we’ll find a goddamn apartment and have Annie and Hughie over for lunch, and I’ll take you to stupid fucking movies and we’ll dance the kitchen and sit on the roof until I carry you to bed. If you want to travel the world and help people, I’ll be right at your fucking side, and if you just want to go back to Boston I’ll be there as well. We can have a shitty house that’s older than I am, and you’ll do your decorating shit and be nice to all our stupid neighbors. You can do whatever the fuck smart people do, and I can teach our kids to fucking hate all your stupid sports teams, and we’ll drive them down to the fucking Cape for the summer, and when everyone’s asleep I’ll bring you outside and fuck you on the beach. I’ll fuck you anywhere, Sunshine. I’ll be fucking happy anywhere, because I’ll be wherever you are. So I don’t care what you give me, kids or no kids or a house or a fucking dumpster. As long as you’re there, I’ll be good.” 

Before Ben had even fucking finished speaking, She was smiling at him. And it was all raw fucking joy. “Okay,” She whispered, and rose back up Ben’s body, pressing her brow to his and still fucking smiling. “I’d like that.” 

“Which-“ 

“All of it.” She made a small, blissful sound. “Thank you.” 

He didn’t tell Her not to thank him. Ben just allowed one arm wrap around her waist, and his hand moved up to hold the back of Her head. He let their lips brush, but not further, and muttered. “I fucking love you, Sunshine. I’m serious-“ 

“I know you are.” Her hands glided down Ben’s chest, pushing Herself a little higher up, a little closer, on his chest. “You’re a huge, very serious, grumpy old cunt.” She closed the last bit of space between them, her lips fitting so fucking perfectly against Ben’s, her body melting into his like it was fucking meant to. Her words hummed through Ben’s blood, setting him alight. “And I love you too.” 

It was all he needed. Ben rolled the over, caging Her between him and the mattress—safe, fucking safe and goddamn happy—without ever breaking their kiss. Ben let her hands roam over his body, let her tug his shirt up and her hands trace paths over the bare skin of his chest and torso that lit him on fucking fire. 

“Off,” She mumbled into Ben’s mouth, pulling his shirt further up his chest. “Off, Ben, please-“ 

Ben raised himself up—keeping her against the bed, pinned under his weight by his thighs—and half ripped his shirt off his body before immediately returning. Propping himself up on one elbow, diving down to her neck and sucking and biting a path that made Her sigh, a whining and high sound, and grind up into his torso. 

“Want you,” he muttered Her name against her skin, his free hand moving under Her shirt—Ben’s shirt—to play with the waistline of her panties. “Want you all the fucking time, Sunshine. What do you-“ 

“You,” Her answer was breathless, soft and high and ending in a slight whine as Ben’s thumb pressed right over Her clothed clit. “Want you, Ben, please. Need you.“ 

He groaned as one of Her hands slid between their bodies, palming at his cock, tenting against Her thighs. “How do you-“ 

“Don’t care, just want you-“ 

Ben decided to do it slow. Gentle and fucking sweet. Too good, and all Ben’s to praise and tend to and revere. So he pulled his shirt off Her body—carefully this time, because it did fucking things to Ben when she wore his clothing and he never wanted to take that away from himself—and pressed his palm over her soaked panties, kissing a line down between and under her breasts, rising back up to take a nipple in his mouth, smirking at the high squeak that left her mouth as he sucked. 

Her hands had shot into his hair, her chest heaving as Ben continued his work, starting to roll his hand over her clit. “Ben-“

You’re so fucking beautiful, Sunshine. He let his teeth graze over her—forcing himself to keep focus as she bucked her hips up—and switched to the other nipple. Can’t believe you’re all fucking mine. So fucking good for me, darling, so goddamn perfect. 

“Please-“ 

She cut herself off with a whine as Ben flicked his tongue, his palm pushing down against her, halting her movements up into him. 

Want to fucking show you how perfect you are, my love. Let me fucking show you- 

Please, Ben, fuck, please- 

He grinned at the breathless tone of Her voice between their minds, and surged back up, crashing his mouth into Hers and kissing her until she moaned. Long and desperate, half a sound of need and half his name, already fucking wrecked without friction, Ben holding her still under him. 

“Want you to be loud,” he grunted Her name into her mouth. “Talk to me, tell me how fucking good it feels-“ 

She nodded frantically, and Ben chuckled. 

“Words-“ 

“Feels good,” She mumbled, words practically fucking slurred. “Feels so good, Ben, god-“ 

“Have I told you,” he drawled, swallowing Her whimper as he pressed his hand further against her. “How much you consume my every fucking thought. How much I think about you, how it’s a goddamn problem, how much I adore and love you?” 

“You’ve-“ She took a ragged breath as Ben’s head dropped to suck and lick at her neck. “I think you’ve mention it-“ 

“See, I still think you don’t fucking understand.” Ben bit at her skin and she rolled Her hips, pulling at his hair. “You’re my fucking life, Sunshine. And I’ll say it until you get it into your pretty head. You’re perfect, every single goddamn part of you. You’re too fucking clever, darling, so good and kind and brilliant.” Ben trailed back up, tugging at Her ear and kissing over her cheekbone before pressing his brow to hers. 

“Ben-“ 

He chuckled as she tried to chase his mouth, and started to rub large circles against her clit with his palm, tracing his fingers over the slit of her pussy, still covered by her underwear. 

“Fuck-“ 

“I can fucking feel that sharp, insane mind of yours inside me, beautiful.” He dropped his mouth just an inch further down, holding himself where their lips brushed as he spoke, but no further. “And I love you there the most. Love how fucking bright you are, Sunshine. This mouth of yours is so fucking smart,” he traced his lips over Hers, and she whimpered, eyes blown out and wide on his. “And you can be such a fucking brat, darling, but I goddamn love it. You’re my best fucking friend, and the most impossible fucking pain in my ass I could ever ask to love.”

She was fucking coming apart below him. Sighing in Ben’s mouth and letting him push his tongue down her throat, letting him kiss Her until he decided he should probably keep up with the plan he’d come up with, or else he’d just fucking kiss her until he came in his pants like a goddamn teenager.

Ben dragged his lips from Hers, and her sound of protest turned to a soft moan as Ben kissed every fucking inch of her face her could reach, love and want fucking rioting inside of him as she tried to move to offer him better access.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he muttered, dragging his hand up from her cunt to hold her face, running his fingers over her lips and cheekbones and jaw. “You’re a goddamn marvel, Sunshine, you’re fucking art.” 

“Benjamin-“ 

Her words were a long, breathy, desperate moan, and he dropped back down to her lips. “I know, my love. I’ll get there-”

“I want you there now, you fucking dick-“ 

“And you get my fucking dick,” Ben hummed Her name, feeling himself twitch in his pants as he glanced down at her body, squirming and grinding and fucking perfect under him. “Patience.” 

“I hate you-“ 

“You fucking love me.” He kissed back down Her neck, over her collarbones. You love how grumpy I am, and how hard I work, and my fucking dick. But I think what you love most, Ben squeezed where he was holding Her waist. Is how I fucking worship you like you deserve. Make you feel fucking good, Sunshine, take real good care of you- 

I, She took a long breath, hands tugging Ben’s face back up, Her eyes on his still lustful, but now soft as well. That’s not what I love most about you. 

He grunted Her name between their heads, but she pushed on. 

I love how much you care, period. You don’t half-ass anything, Benjamin, and that includes caring. I’ve never seen anyone care about anything so aggressively as you care about baseball and stupid war documentaries and ice cream. I’ve never been cared about as much as you care about me. I didn’t think it was possible to care about someone as much as you care about me. She smiled at him, and Ben was pretty goddamn sure his heart fucking exploded. You care about me and Ryan and everything else you love so violently and wrathfully and powerfully, and that’s what I love most about you.

Ben’s voice sounded fucking hoarse in his own head. Sunshine- 

But, She curled up, kissing Ben’s nose. It’s only one reason on a very long list, my love- 

That snapped something deep in Ben's head, and it cleared his brain to Her. Everything in the universe narrowed to Her. 

This kiss was fucking brutal. Ben’s hand fisted Her hair, his teeth and spit and tongue Hers as well, his whole body demanding more. He’d never been more fucking satiated, and he’d never be more fucking hungry.

I love you, he muttered Her name between their heads. I love every single goddamn thing about you. And I’ve got a whole fucking plan to show you, so for once in your goddamn life, let me do the talking, darling. Moan and scream and beg all you fucking want, but I talk.

But you said-

I changed my mind. No talking.

Ben-

Deal? 

She nodded, finger’s curling on Ben’s face as she writhed below him. Deal, fucking deal, just please- 

I’ve meant everything I said about how much I love you. How smart and kind and clever and perfect that mind of yours is. But fucking Christ, Sunshine, you’re a goddamn wet dream. 

She moaned as Ben moved back to Her body, worshiping Her shoulder and neck and chest with his mouth, Her hips and waist and ass with his hands.

Every single fucking thing about you is goddamn perfection, but these, Ben returned his mouth to Her nipple, her moan only spurring him on. Were crafted by some sort of evil god. They’re fucking magic, beautiful, you could fucking win a war with them. He raised his spare hand to knead at Her other breast, and a strangled sound that sounded like his name left her mouth. 

“God, please-“ 

I talk. Ben squeezed Her one last time, flicking her nipple before switching to soothe the hurt with his tongue, and moved his hand back up to Her mouth. Be fucking good for me, darling, and listen.

Ben- 

He pressed his fingers between Her lips, and she didn’t fucking hesitate to start sucking on them. Licking and nipping and fucking moaning around him, and he groaned against Her tit. 

Fucking Christ, you’re going to kill me. He left one last kiss on her nipple, rising up just enough to watch her. You’re so fucking beautiful-

She whined, bucking up into Ben’s fully hard cock, and Her eyes on his were a plea.

Want to cum, Sunshine? 

She only nodded, kicking his abdomen, and he chuckled, pulling his fingers away with a pop.

Just a little longer, darling. Hold on for me.

Ben didn’t wait to see the desperation in Her eyes—he could feel it in his fucking body—before he was dropping back down, kissing between her breasts, over her stomach, and leaving one soft, fucking sweet kiss over her clothed clit before leaning back and ripping off her panties, admiring his handiwork.

She was fucking dripping. Soaking the sheets, so fucking perfect, and all goddamn Ben’s.

You’ve got the best fucking legs I’ve ever seen, he muttered into her head, kissing and biting a loose pattern over her inner thighs. Could fucking die here. But this, Ben parted Her swollen pussy lips, smirking at her small gasp. Is like a fucking drug. You’re always so fucking wet for me, my love, I don’t even need to prep you. But I think I will anyway.

Ben pushed two fingers into Her, pumping slowly and groaning as she squeezed around him. Then, just for his fucking self, Ben pulled Her clit into his mouth and sucked. Going and going without pointless shit like air, scissoring and pushing his fingers in deeper, and only stopping when She screamed, and his whole fucking face got soaked. He felt and smelled and tasted Her fucking everywhere, and it was like fucking water. Earthier and harsher and so fucking Her, but just as goddamn critical to Ben’s life now.

He pushed himself off of Her, rising back up to his knees and groaning at the sight of Her. Fucking glowing, goddamn ruined. Looking at Ben like he was something holy and sacred, and to Her, he was. He could feel it fucking everywhere, and taste it on his tongue as he licked his lips.

He hoped She fucking lingered there for the rest of time. That every night for the rest of his life, Ben could run a hand through his beard, and end up with his fingers fucking covered in Her. 

You fucking squirted.

She nodded, and—despite the fucking choir of Her love around Ben in the world—only moaned, reaching up for him. 

Think you can do it again? 

She whined, and Ben chuckled. 

Words, darling- 

Yes, fuck Ben, please- 

Good girl. 

She practically flew off the fucking bed as her hips jerked up, her heart stuttering with her breath. God, fuck, please- 

Ben grinned, and he could never fucking deny her anything, so he ripped his pants off, stroking himself once, twice—just to how fucking beautiful she was—and pushed himself in with a groan. He fell over Her as he bottomed out, and fuck She was perfect. Fluttering around him, fitting him like they’d been fucking designed to be as close as goddamn possible, gasping in Ben’s ear as Her hands clawed at his back. 

Ready, Sunshine? 

Just move, you ass- 

He kissed Her—bruising and demanding and made of all this fucking love for Her that consumed Ben’s whole goddamn existence—and obeyed. 

Ben didn’t think he’d ever worked harder than to memorize every single fucking part of Her. What every pout and glare and smile meant, how She said his name and every small way she existed around him—in music and movies and shows and books and the flowers in MM’s garden—and how She moved. Ben had learned Her like fucking she was a fucking testament to how he should live, and he took it goddamn seriously. It was what helped him know how to fuck Her right. How to angle himself inside her so he was hitting that spot that always made Her let out a strangled moan, how to kiss her in a fucking rhythm as he pounded himself into her, and that, if he groaned when She squeezed around him, she’d start to try and grind up into him. 

This was better than a fucking drug. This was fucking oxygen, how warm and tight she was around him, how when Ben deepened their kiss she opened up for him and scratched his back, how sensitive She was—leaning into his every touch, moaning at every muttered and growled praise—and how he could fucking feel Her. How fucking perfect She was, finally around him in every single possible way. So fucking bright, a green mist that smelled like pine and vanilla and damn strawberries covering the room as she shinedlike fucking star under Ben, Her eyes watching him like he was something good. 

Ben was something good, for Her. It lived in how he tended and adored and cared for her, and he wanted to be something that was half as fucking perfect as she was, just so she’d let him stay here for the rest of fucking time. Buried deep inside Her, his thrusts becoming stuttered as he began to lose control—no fucking idiot pussy could blame him, though, because She was squirming under him and moaning his name so I was a miracle he lasted this long—and letting every single fucking thought of Her fall out of his mouth, down her throat.

“So fucking good,” he grunted Her name. “Taking me so fucking perfect. You sound like a fucking song, look so fucking beautiful all fucked out, love you, taking me so fucking well-“

He cut himself off with a groan as her head dropped to his jaw, kissing along his beard with sinful fucking whimpers. 

“Christ, you’re a goddamn miracle, fucking made for me.” Ben pushed one hand between their bodies, rolling his hips to press against the deepest part of her as he pinched and rubbed over her clit. 

Her mouth fell open in a silent scream, Her heart hitting that frantic pace that meant she was close, and when Her hands trying to push Ben further into her he moved faster, crashing his mouth back into her and growling Her name. 

“You’re fucking perfect.” Ben’s words became fast and rough, their brows pressed together so he could see every inch of Her beautiful face, his own orgasm pushing at his restraint. “You so fucking good, darling, good to everyone, so fucking good to me. I fucking love you-“

“Ben,” Her voice was a whisper of pure fucking need that almost sent Ben over the edge. “Please-“

He kissed Her again, soft and sweet as his movements become almost feral, splitting her fucking open on his cock. Cum for me, Sunshine, say my name-

She screamed—Ben’s name lost somewhere in many high, wrecked sounds of God and fuck—and Ben let go. Driven on by Her fucking squirting over him, her pussy contracting like she was trying to really fucking kill him, Ben made one last, long thrust as he emptied himself into Her body. He waited for Her breathy, blissful sigh that meant she was happy and high on pleasure before pressing one last, soft kiss to between Her eyes, tucking hair behind her ears, and lowering himself down. Covering her body in his like he could serve as a shield from fucking everything. From the daylight and blue sky, slowing creeping over them and threatening that morning was here, and they couldn’t fucking stay here forever. From the battle they were staged to fight, where Ben would have to just be fucking silent at Her side. From every single factor that neither of them could control, from everything that might hurt Her or make her cry. Every single weak thing that dared to pretend they were worthy sharing the same air that She fucking breathed. 

And She let them stay like that. With Ben’s body likely fucking dead-weight over her, his arms wrapped around her waist as he buried his head between her breasts, her hands even moving to hold his face, tilting it up for Ben to meet her gaze. 

He scanned over her face, perfect and fucking beautiful and all fucking Ben’s. “Hi, Sunshine.” 

“Hi, Benjamin, my love.” 

She couldn’t be allowed to fucking call him that. If Ben ever wanted to be a goddamn productive member of society, She couldn’t keep calling him my love. And, Christ on a fucking cross, Benjamin, my love, was worse. That made him short circuit and practically fucking gape at Her. It repeated over and over in his head, and he probably looked like an idiot fucking pussy, just gaping at Her, but fuck She was so pretty, and happy, and Ben’s and Her Her Her, everything in him kept calling Ben home to Her. 

Ben managed to regain just enough control over his stupid fucking lovestruck body to roll them over, tugging Her down until that bright, drug-like smile was right above him, Her arms holding her a few inches away from him. 

“You’re a fucking thief,” Ben drawled Her name, and was unable to contain a dumb fucking smile from overtaking his face. It was born from Her—hair messy, fucking naked, beautiful mouth still slightly swollen and pretty eyes still so dazed from sex—being so goddamn near him. Her smell that was half wrapped in salt from sweat and Ben’s cum, Her perfect face all fucking happy above him, Her smile and love fucking intoxicating. A high Ben never had to come down from, because even as She gave him a fake pout he just got higher. 

“I am not a thief, that’s mean-“ 

“You’re fucking mean.” He grabbed Her hips, pulling them down to press against his and letting Her sit over him. “And you’re a goddamn thief. I call you my love, you stole my goddamn idea-“

She scoffed, crossing her arms and glaring down at him. “You are not the first dummy to call their person my love, Pretty Boy-“ 

“I said it first with us-“ 

“Well you don’t get a patent over it-“ 

“The fuck I don’t.” 

They were glowering at each other, and Ben knew he’d lost when a soft smile crossed her face, a sharp look glinting in her eyes. “Well then I am a thief,” She crawled back down his body, bumping their noses and kissing along Ben’s jaw. “Because it’s mine now. I call you my love, and that’s that.”

He scowled, but it was getting harder to even keep up the charade of this fake fight when She was squirming above him and his hands were bruising at Her hips. “You don’t get to just fucking take it-“ 

“Yes, I do.” 

Ben hauled Her further up his body, fully moving her to collapse over him, a high yelp leaving her as Ben kissed every single fucking inch of skin he could angle his head to find. “Fucking brat.” He grunted, rutting slightly up into Her thighs and growing harder as he felt her wetness, dripping down her thighs. “Already so goddamn needy for me again, want me to fuck you good, darling? Again?” 

She was fucking perfect. It wasn’t Ben’s own damn bias or love or something fucking pathetic—but entirely goddamn warranted, She was his life and Ben was allowed to be a little bit of a fucking pussy about her—She was just so fucking clearly perfect. She might be the only person alive who was more dirty-minded and horny than Ben, and he pitied any fucker who’d tried to keep up with Her before him. Her head ended up thrown back as she rode him, a beautiful fucking squeak leaving her when Ben took back control, grabbing Her hips and drilling up into Her until her pretty eyes rolled back and she was shaking around him. 

When he found his release with Her own—letting Her grind over his cock and scrape at his abdomen as she made sounds that were fucking music—Ben had to take a long, heavy breath to stop himself from just rolling Her over and going for round three when he saw his cum leaking and coating her thighs. 

She giggled slightly, brushing some of Ben’s hair from his eyes. 

“What-“ 

“We really do fuck like rabbits,” She said, shifting around until their legs were tangled, pulling Ben’s arms over her body. “Hughie asked if it was the supe stamina, but I think it might just be us.” 

“You talked to Hughie about our sex life-“ 

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Technically I was talking to Annie, but Hughie was forced to listen. And halfway through the story about the dishes incident, he asked if copious amounts of sex was normal for two supes.” 

It wasn’t. Ben had fucked half the female supe population before Russia, and it might as well have been juvenile dry humping compared to what he did with her. But he was still caught on the talking to Annie shit. “What the fuck else do you tell her about us-“

“Normal friend stuff,” she shrugged, leaving soft kisses along his beard as She spoke. “How much I love you, how you made me pancakes for breakfast again, how good you are with Ryan and how adorably grumpy you get when we talk about books, how I’m going to bribe you to read something with Ryan and I, and Hughie and Annie are welcome read with us-“

“You’re going to fucking bribe me-“

She continued, kissing the bridge of Ben’s nose and holding his gaze. “Usually Hughie clocks out when I start talking about how much I love your dick, though-“

Ben raised his brows at Her. “You talk about my dick with fucking Hughie? What, are you telling Butcher about my balls-“

“I would if he would listen.” She smiled, dropping back down, kissing everywhere but Ben’s fucking lips. “Benjamin, my love, if you were fucking you, you’d never shut up about it either-“ 

His eyes narrowed. “You did it again.” 

She hummed, her smile so perfectly and beautifully mocking innocence. “I don’t know what you could possibly be talking about.”

Ben snaked one hand up her back, tangling his finger in her hair and moving her back his mouth. Kissing her until she was writhing and moaning above him, a tiny whine leaving her lips when he pulled away. 

“Ben-“ 

“You’re the love of my fucking life, Sunshine, and you should know that-“ 

“I do know that,” She whispered, and Ben could fucking feel it. Spreading between them, how he was just as critical to Her as She was to him. Her piece of him so fucking strong inside of him, twined into something so deep inside of Ben’s body he’d never fucking known about it before. “I know that all the time, Ben. And I need you to know that I love you.” She sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You do so much for me, and I want to give you something back-“ 

“You give me more than fucking enough-“ 

She shook her head. “I want to do more. It’s just a name, Pretty Boy. You have a million of them for me, and I’m sure you’ll come up with more.” 

Ben groaned, because he’d fucking lost this one as well. She was too fucking pretty, half-pouting up at him and loving him and so fucking happy around him, alive inside him, and Ben needed to get his fucking shit together, but he didn’t want to. This was so fucking good, and She was so goddamn perfect, and when he made a grumbling relent, her smile was so fucking bright and sweet and all for him. 

“Thank you, Benjamin, my love.” 

She kissed him one last time, and Ben needed to get better at faking a genuine scowl, because right now he goddamn knew he looked just like the fucking puppy dog She kept accusing him of being. Watching Her and trying to act like he was annoyed by this, when everything in him was just Her. Making his whole fucking life better and loving him and wanting him and being so fucking annoying and he wouldn’t change a goddamn thing. 

“We could both fucking use it-“ 

“No.” She mumbled, burying her face in his neck. “Mine.” 

And Ben couldn’t fucking argue with that. He was Hers. He was holding Her against him as they both made a completely fucking pointless attempt to properly rest in the last hour before they had to get up, watching the light start to dance over her perfect face, and he wanted to be here for the rest of his goddamn life. 

He really fucking wanted to be with Her, forever. He’d always fucking burn with her, but he wanted to just stay here. No burning, just warm and love and good. In whatever goddamn form it took, Ben just really fucking wanted Her. 

She was half-asleep, and there was a chance she wouldn’t even hear him. But Ben muttered Her name anyway, and waited for her small sound of acknowledgement, her hand squeezing his bicep in a silent signal that she was listening. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too-“ 

“I really fucking love you,” Ben grunted. “And we should get married. Now.” 

Her heart hitched slightly, but all she did was smile against Ben’s skin. “You’re going to have to try harder than that, my love.” 

Ben snorted slightly, and knew that he would. He’d have to make it romantic. Something that she deserved, that made every single other fucking gesture in history seem fucking stupid. There would be music and flowers—she fucking loved music and flowers—and chocolate, and maybe a horse. Ben didn’t have a goddamn clue why he’d need a horse, but those things always seemed involved in romance somehow, so he’d have to figure out where the fuck to get a horse, and how to work it in with everything else. 

But then he looked down at Her—sleeping peacefully above Ben, breath warming his neck and lips brushing over his skin—and knew she wouldn’t give a fuck about a horse. He didn’t need to make it complicated, just do it right. 

Fuck, if he tried right now—more than just a grumbled idea that made Her love spark in his head and bones—Ben could probably get it right. He could roll her over, kiss her neck, cheeks, brow, and lips, and tell Her to fucking marry me. I love you, and I love every single part of you, and I want every single part of you, and I’ll spend the rest of my fucking life proving that to you, starting now. If you let me, I’ll pick you up and we can go find a judge and do it right goddamn now. I don’t have a ring, but I’ll find one, I’ll find you whatever the fuck you want, and that will be it. You and me, for the rest of fucking time, together. 

He didn’t, though. She was, somehow, fast asleep, and Ben had no desire to wake Her. Not when her face was so relaxed, and Ben could just lay here and care for her in silence. Hold Her until he saw the clock flash 5:30, and they had to move. 

They were silent getting ready. Ben wore his supe suit, She kept his shirt on—her eyes bleary and gaze slightly unfocused as she shuffled around the room—and Ben didn’t fight her when she grabbed their suitcase. Her grip on it was white-knuckled and smoking, and even though she was probably about to do fucking everything at the meeting for everyone else, she needed to be useful. Ben knew that drawn focus, and mechanical breathing, and rapid tapping of Moon River. It was her I’m doing this, my way, and that means doing it fucking right, face. It was the one that Ben knew he could help with an arm looped through hers and a kiss on the side of Her head, promising that he was fucking there, and not going anywhere.

The rest of the team seemed to know that face by now as well. Enough so for Butcher not to make any mocking comments about how that shirt was very obviously Ben’s, Annie and Hughie not to try and engage her in boring, pointless fucking conversation, and MM to only give her a tight nod as they tossed the suitcase in the back and climbed into the limo. 

The ride was completely silent. Her head was leaned back on Ben's shoulder, her eyes closed but heartbeat fast, and her finger still tapping, faster and faster, on Ben’s arm. 

He muttered Her name between their heads, and her eyes slowly opened, her face turning to look at him.

Ben. 

You’re going to be fucking fine. 

I know- 

I’m serious, he pushed Her a little further up his body, making their eyes level. You’re going to be fucking fine. We’re going to figure this out, no matter what happens, or what the pussies decide. We’ll take care of this, together. 

She swallowed, but gave Ben a soft, reassuring smile that didn’t hit her eyes. Together. I love you. 

I love you too. Ben paused, scanning over her face. If those cumfucks ask- 

We’re dating. Her smile grew a little wider, and her fingers stilled on Ben’s skin. Or fuck-buddy-brain-connected. My vote is- 

Ben kissed Her, squeezing her body once, and Her giggle into his mouth might be the best fucking thing he’s ever heard. 

You’re not allowed to vote on what we call things. 

She fake-pouted against him. This is a democracy, Benjamin- 

No, it’s not. He grinned, nipping on her lower lip. It’s a constitutional monarchy, where you’re the fucking Queen. And the Queen isn’t supposed to vote. 

She pulled back, giving Ben a wide, amused smile he could feel something soften in his stomach. Look who paid attention in civics class. 

I paid attention to you and Ryan, not some boring fucking history teacher. I’ve told you, your boobs have magical fucking powers, Sunshine. They move when you talk and I always fucking listen.

Gross. 

You love it. 

I do. She traced a hand over Ben’s jaw, the sharp smile playing over her features lighting up the whole goddamn world. Because we’re fuck-buddy-brain-connected. 

Ben rolled his eyes. Don’t call us that. 

Can I call us that on the Ben’o’phone? 

You can do whatever the fuck you want in here, Ben held Her hand on his face, kissing her palm. But if you tell Singer that we’re fuck-buddy-brain-connected, I’m not fucking you for a week.

Her eyes narrowed. That’s a bad bluff, Pretty Boy. 

It was. Ben wouldn’t make it two fucking days before he caved, even if all She did smile and talk to him. But he kept his face set and neutral, shrugging slightly. So fucking call me on it, Sunshine. 

Her tongue peaked between her lips as she chewed, nose twitching, and she sighed. Fuck you. 

Don’t call us that shit, Ben winked. And I will. Hard, this time, until you’re rolling around and can’t feel your fucking legs. Until we finally get you to really, properly squirt, and I can fucking taste it. Ben kissed Her nose, light and teasing. I’ll fuck until we break the goddamn bed, and you’re burning down the whole goddamn building with how good I make you cum. Think you’d like that, darling? He smirked at Her slack expression, pressing his thumb between her lips and feeling his cock twitch when they parted. Think you’d want me to make you cum so fucking hard you scream my name and light up like a fucking star? Think you could be a good girl and let go when I fuck you? 

Her eyes had gone clear of glazed, grinding thought, and clouded with a lust that called Ben like a fucking siren. He was a strong man, but not strong enough for this. Things like will and resolve didn’t matter when She looked at him like that. When Her hands were curled on Ben’s arm, and her breathing was ragged in a way that made things feel right, and there was a little bit of fucking drool lining her lips. The limo was starting to be washed in a golden haze that meant she was turned on and probably fucking soaking her underwear, so nobody would be strong in this situation. Every other single asshole would want to make good on those promises, because they were to Her and she was perfect. 

Ben was either about to try and secretly fuck her in front of everyone, or try the proposal again, so or everyone’s sake, it was good they arrived within the next few seconds. If they did try to fuck the secret thing wouldn’t last a damn minute, and if Ben proposed—the right way—they’d definitely be fucking, loud and hard and wet, after. And even if Hughie and Annie had heard about how good Ben fucked Her, they still weren’t allowed to see it. 

Butcher twisted around from the front, his eyes landing on Her as he said Her name. “You’re gonna need to wear a fuckin disguise, we ain’t able to risk anyone figurin out who you are.” 

She rolled Her eyes, dramatically pulling her sunglasses out of her jacket and placing them on her face. “Good?” 

Butcher frowned, turning to Hughie. “Oi, lad. Give her your fucking cap.” 

“My-“ 

“I’ve got it.” Annie tossed Her a black baseball cap from across the limo, giving Butcher a flat, annoyed look. “Hughie doesn’t have a hat, asshole, it’s mine-“ 

“Don’t matter whose hat it is, long as she,” Butcher jerked his head to Her. “Is the one wearin it. Indoors too, Love, I ain’t lookin for Homelander to drop through the ceiling-“ 

“Keep your tits on, Butcher.” She plopped the cap on her head with another sweeping, sarcastic gesture. “Everyone ready?” 

MM nodded. “Grace is already there, so hopefully we won’t have a wait time. Everyone try to be diplomatic for once in your lives, don’t say something you don’t think over five fucking times in your head, and no weapons.” 

Everyone looked at Ben and Butcher. 

“That cunt is a bloody weapon, I’m takin my gun-“ 

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want-“ 

“Both of you,” She glared between Ben and Butcher, voice not as loud as theirs, but with a threat of violence that made even Butcher snap his jaw closed. “Shut the fuck up. No weapons in the White House. Near the president. Ben, you are a weapon, we’ll be fine. Butcher, if you remind the fucking secret service that Ben and I are weapons, they’ll make us wait outside, and you’ll be fucked. You need me for this, I’ve put the whole thing together. Got it?”

Ben made a grumbled agreement, and Butcher scowled, pulling out at least fifty fucking guns and placing them in the passenger’s seat, glaring at Her the whole time. She gave them both a pretty, smug smile, and pulled Ben with her, out of the limo. 

As they walked through the halls of the White House, flanked by many, incredibly fucking useless secret service agents—Her hand over Ben’s, on her shoulder, warmer than usual but not smoking—Ben nudged her shoulder.

You look fucking hot when you order everyone around, Sunshine. 

She huffed a small laugh. You always think I look hot. 

Because you’re always fucking hot- 

I think. She smiled up at him, squeezing his hand. That I could eat vomit and roll in shit, and you’d still think I’m hot. 

You would be. 

I would objectively not be- 

Yes, you fucking would be. Ben kissed Her brow. You’re objectively hot all the goddamn time.

And you’re an incredibly biased party, Benjamin, my love. 

Ben almost picked her up and to fuck her on one of these stupid fancy benches in the halls. The only thing that stopped him was a secret service agent, coming to a halt in the hall with no warning. 

“Christ, you pussy-“ 

Her free hand shot up, covering Ben’s mouth. “Is this it?” 

The agent nodded, and started listing off a bunch of fucking rules that Ben didn’t care about. Not when Her eyes had gone glass-like once more, and her heart was stumbling in her chest. 

You’ve fucking got this, Sunshine. We’re going to be fine. 

I know. She let out a long, slow breath, and leaned into Ben slightly. Ready? 

Fucking born it. 

Singer was at the center of the table—in the same spot as last time—with Mallory on one side and a man Ben had never seen before on the other. 

Ben hated him. She was perfect and beautiful, and Todd Muller was a slimy-looking weasel-fuck, wearing a red tie Ben wanted to strangle him with and looking at them with gleaming eyes Ben wanted to stab. The man hadn’t even spoken, and Ben’s fists were already goddamn curling at his side. There was something in him that told Ben wrong. Bad, vile, fucking wrong, and it came from Her. When the man smiled, a crude cold smirk that made Ben feel like he’d been shoved into a fucking swamp, the warning became an alarm, and Her grip on Ben’s hand over her shoulders started to smoke.

Muller—it was fucking Muller, Mallory had made some introductions that Ben barely heard over the blood lining his every thought—wouldn’t stop looking at Her, and Ben had to fight every fucking urge in his body to just step in front of her. 

And when Muller said Her name—said it fucking wrong, with no love and only callous venom—Ben thought his jaw might crack. 

“You’re looking healthy for a dead girl.” 

“Todd.” Her voice was bored and cold, Her heart pounding like a fucking war drum. “You’re looking like a bitch ass cock guzzler.” 

Even with the tension in the air—wired and electric and set to detonate—Ben still had to cough to cover his laugh, and Muller’s eyes shot to his. 

“Soldier Boy,” a hand was extended over the table. Ben forced himself not to break it. “Big fan-“ 

“Don’t be.” Her voice was dry. “He’s a Phillies fan.” 

Brat. 

Cunt. A small smile tugged at Her lips, even as Muller’s attention returned to her. 

“You’ve been busy,” Muller said Her name again, and Ben was going to pull out his tongue. “Learning about baseball, getting your fifteen minutes of fame, never bothering to tell your mother and me that you were alive-“ 

“I’d been dead to you and Mom for years,” She shrugged. “What’s legal death to being locked out and left to fend for myself?” 

“And I see you’re still a little-“ 

“Secretary Muller.” Mallory’s voice was even and cool, and she didn’t even fucking look at Her or Ben. “We agreed to keep personal lives out of this meeting.” 

Muller’s face twitched, but he fell back into his seat, eyes still trained on Her and Ben. 

“Alright, let’s get this shit over with.” Singer nodded to the chairs before them. “Sit, so we can talk like damn adults.” 

MM cleared his throat as they all sat, nodding to a silent, bored-looking Singer. “Thank you for seeing us again, sir.”

“Don’t.” Singer sighed, rubbing at his beard. “If I don’t follow up with you dumbasses, the brit,” he jerked his head to Butcher, who winked. “Will probably start sendin death threats and bombs to my family. But I ain’t here to small talk or do fucking therapy sessions, so I’m just gonna say it.” Singer sighed, looking around the room. “You’re not gettin any V. You’ve been determined to be a liability and are being ordered to explore other avenues to eliminate Homelander.”

The shocked, angry silence only lasted a moment before the room erupted in protests. Butcher shouting about Singer being a bloody fuckin cunt idiot, MM and Annie trying to provide reason, and Hughie trying to make everyone stop yelling. 

But She was silent, watching Muller. No smoke, no screams, only a pure, horrid sense of wrong and sick in Ben’s body. 

Ben. She didn’t look at him, but squeezed his arm. Don’t freak out. 

What- 

She coughed, a tiny amount of fire escaping her mouth, the whole room erupted in clicks of guns. All fucking aimed at Her. The only thing that kept Ben only rigid and alert at Her side, instead of launching himself over her body and bashing in the brains of any pussy that dared to fire, was Her quick, sharp glance in his direction, and smooth words in his head. 

I’ve got this. 

She had this. Ben was right here, killing anyone who fired was still very much an option, and she had this. She was leaning over the table, eyes flicking between Singer, Muller, and Mallory, and she had this. 

“What exactly about us is a liability?” She asked, tilting her head in mock thought. “That would justify you refusing to provide us with the only definitive weapon against Homelander?” 

“Your team has proven reckless,” Singer held Her gaze, which was a little fucking admirable. Ben had seen fucking Butcher stop talking under that glare, and Singer didn’t even seem to have the cocky death-wish Butcher had. “Countless times. Truth-con, both of Firecracker’s rallies, Tek Knight’s club massacre, the Believe Expo, and that’s just off the top of my damn head. We’re past takin gambles that don’t pay off, and this is a massive gamble that we ain’t able to afford.“

“How so?” She blinked at Singer, her face innocent and her fingers tapping on the table. “This is not a gamble. V will incapacitate Homelander.” 

“On your word.” Muller sneered. “All we have is your word, and there’s nothing to stop you from simply taking the V for your own use.” 

She scoffed, giving Muller a bored, amused look. “That can’t possibly be your real excuse. Half of us are already supes, and the other half hate supes-” 

“I don’t hate supes-“ 

Hughie’s mumble was cut off by Mallory’s curt, snapped words. “You have all been known to make questionable moves.” 

This time, Butcher laughed. “Come off it, Grace. Questionable moves is real high and fuckin mighty from you-“ 

“I have always remained within the bounds of the law-“ 

“The law,” She drawled. “Is not the end all be all of morality. We need to kill Homelander. This will help us. There isn’t another way. So please give me one really good reason why you can’t spare one vial of V so we can eliminate the most dangerous man alive.” 

There was a beat of tight, furious silence, and then Singer stood. 

“Grace, Todd,” he flattened his suit, letting out a labored breath. “I got a fuckin country to run, deal with this. You dumbasses,” he nodded across the table to the Boys. “Are real lucky we’re still housing and entertaining you. And you,” Singer said Her name, and the whole world was lined in red. “Consider playing that role you designed for yourself, if you’re so fuckin committed to the safety of our country.” 

Ben felt his fists curl, and Butcher looked like he would’ve stood up and tackled Singer down had it not been for the countless fucking guns still trained on their heads. 

Muller cleared his throat as the door, and their last fucking hope, closed. “We have determined that the pitch comes from a non-lucid party-“ 

“Shut the fuck up, Todd.” She wrinkled Her nose, lip curling. “Just say it’s because of me, so we can all move on.” 

“You are not important enough for this call to be made in your name-“ 

“Try again.” 

“Homelander is a chronic threat of unfathomable proportion. You are not qualified to handle such a delicate situation-“

“Wrong.” She shrugged, and Ben felt like he was watching a sparring match. Muller’s face was growing more and more red, and Her breathing more mechanical, both close to snapping, but she still pushed on. “I am qualified. I have field experience, and I’m literally a doctor. And you used chronic wrong. That’s not what it means-“ 

“I do not care what it means,” Muller hissed. “You are not stable or reliable, and we will not put the most dangerous drug in history into the hands of an over-emotional girl.” 

The table cracked under Ben’s hands, and something fucking dangerous crossed over Her face. 

“Oh, fuck.” MM muttered, leaning back in his chair and running a hand over his face as the air of the room started to wave in the heat. 

“So,” Her words were slow, wrathful. “You are risking America, risking the fucking world, because you think I’m the same unstable teenager I was thirteen fucking years ago.” 

Muller didn’t waver. “I believe you are the same girl you were because you are spoiled and believe you are owed something from the world. We are not a weapons bank-” 

“I am not owed V, it’s the only weapon to hold down Homelander that we have!” Her voice was growing louder, the room crackling with heat. “I want to kill my fucking abuser, that’s not spoiled-“ 

“And she’s helped us!“ Annie jumped in, glaring at Muller. “She’s not spoiled, she’s made a lot of the hard calls-“ 

“Starlight,” Mallory muttered, shooting Annie a look. “Drop it.” 

“No, Mallory! This is insane, you can’t think this is the best choice-“ 

“This is the president’s call-“ 

Butcher let out a cold, angry laugh. “You ain’t ever been this much of a bureaucratic bitch before, Grace-“

“Times are changing, Butcher-“ 

“And Grace here,” Muller gave Mallory a cold smirk. “Still wants to be in the running for the sweet VP spot. So now isn’t the time to disagree with Mr. President.” 

MM gaped at Mallory. “Are you being serious, Grace-“

“Oh, she is,” Muller turned his grin to the team. “And she’s still trying to make up ground for letting her two most dangerous and unreliable weapons,” his twisted gaze turned to Her and Ben. “Fall in love. What did you drug him with,” Muller sneered Her name. “To get Soldier Boy to follow you like a weak fucking baby?” 

Ben still had to let Her handle it. Even as he felt so fucking cold, physically restraining himself from launching across the table at Muller, he had to let Her handle it. 

“Ben isn’t weak, or a baby.“ She lifted her chin at Muller, and Ben swore he saw something fucking spark in the air. “And I’m not like you, Todd. I don’t need to offer someone something for them to love me.” A cold, hollow smirk played across Her lips. “Tell Mom I say hi, by the way.” 

Muller’s eyes narrowed. “You whoring little bitch-“ 

That was fucking it. Fuck letting Her handle it, that was the fucking line. 

Ben shot to his feet, letting the table crack further under his fist, and Muller’s words faded off. 

“Don’t ever fucking speak to her like that again in your pathetic, pussy life,” Ben growled. “Or I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Soldier Boy-“ 

Ben ignored MM’s low warning. “And you should count yourself real fucking lucky, because otherwise I’d break your fucking skull right goddamn now.” 

Muller cleared his throat, and a flash of fear crossed his face. “Careful, Soldier Boy.” Muller said, voice less smug and assured as he straightened his already too-straight tie. “Or we’ll find some Agent Orange and put you back in the box, and she won’t have anyone to do her dirty work.”

Ben could hear the fucking drums. He hadn’t heard the drums like this in months, but they were pounding in his head. Not from Muller—he could throw his against the wall and crack his spine without a thought—but from the thought of leaving Her alone. Failing Her again, leaving Her and Ryan to fight Homelander alone. And the drums beat with the knowledge that She’d burn herself out to wake Ben up, and he could never fucking let that happen- 

“You won’t get near him,” She hissed. “Or I’ll burn your dick off, and your fancy house down. And you,” Her wrath turned to Mallory, her words measured and toxic. “Are fucking pathetic. You know this is the wrong call, and you’re just letting it happen. Actually do something to kill Homelander, or deal with the consequences of him being alive.” 

She stood, looping Her arm through Ben’s. We need to leave, now. 

We’re not going fucking anywhere without the V- 

Ben. Her voice was firm in his head, and Ben realized her heart had slowed. Trust me. 

“Oi, where are you-“ 

“We’re done here,” She announced over Butcher, giving the team sharp, pointed looks. “Thank you,” She gave Mallory and Muller a too sweet, toxic smile. “For absolutely fucking nothing.” 

The rest of their team exchanged confused looks, their mouths opening and closing in protest, but She was on a strange sort of warpath. Pulling Ben behind Her into the hall, barely looking back to see their team scramble up as she turned to face Ben. 

Take my phone.

What the fuck are you- 

We’re not getting the V, Muller is the leak. 

How do you- 

He said Agent Orange. You told me Frenchie used that for his gas, that Sage based Hers on. Nobody except the Boys, Homelander, and Sage know that. It’s him. But we’ll be fine, you just need to play the music-

How the goddamn Christ is music going to help-

Neuman said they had a backup of V, that isn’t under the pentagon's control. I’m going to find it, and I need you to play a song, any song, really fucking loud. Don’t stop until I tell you to. Please. 

Ben nodded, putting Her rapid word in order in his own head. They didn’t have the V. There was more V, that wasn’t under the pentagon’s—Muller’s—control. She needed him to play music. Ben could defiantly fucking play music. 

He took Her phone, and she glanced behind him as their team stumbled into the hall. 

“Love, we ain’t fuckin done here-“ 

“Listen to me, Butcher.” Her voice was controlled and firm, and Ben glanced up from her phone to see that sharp, almost hazardous focus in her eyes. “We need to go now. I need to have my back here, please.”

Butcher blinked, and—by some fucking miracle—nodded. “Let’s bloody get a move on, then.” 

“Butcher-“ 

“Nah, Mate.” Butcher cut off MM with a shrug, sticking his hands in his pockets. “We ain’t gettin shit out of those cunts. Let’s cut our losses and move.” 

“That’s,” Annie frowned, watching Butcher carefully. “Uncharacteristically forgiving of you-“

“What can I say, I’m a changed fuckin man. Let’s go.” 

MM, Annie, and Hughie exchanged looks, but before they could protest further, Ben felt Her bump his shoulder, her eyes fixed behind him. 

Now. 

He didn’t think about what he was playing, because it didn’t fucking matter. It was fucking loud, and it caused the team to jump slightly and give him odd looks, but She nodded. And that’s what fucking mattered. 

And then She fucking vanished, like she had at Red River. Something rushed through Ben’s body—indescribable and elusive and not wrong but strange—the world practically stuttered, and She was gone. 

Annie’s mouth fell open. “Where-“ 

“Oh, shit.” Hughie looked over at Ben, his voice muffled by the blasting vocals and drums and guitar. “She’s-“ 

Ben didn’t want to talk over the music. He didn’t understand how this weird fucking power of Hers worked—She’d explained it a few times, and he’d still gotten lost in Her pretty eyes and big words—and now wasn’t the time to pull experiments with it. So, he just gave Hughie a sharp nod, and waited. 

Butcher didn’t seem phased by this in the goddamn slightest, looking around the hall and rolling his eyes before starting for the exit. 

A secret service agent blocked his path, and an argument started about turning off the music and where is the sixth member of your party—MM grunted something about the bathroom, and they seemed to buy it—but Ben didn’t fucking hear any of it. She was taking too long, there wasn’t any telling where the fuck She’d gone, and Ben could feel Her tugging him with the Pigeon instinct—he was worried out his damn mind, and She’d never get to know he’d called it that—from deep in the building. 

Then She started drawing closer, back to Ben, and the instinct started to grow electric and feral. She was closer, and something felt sick, and he should just fuck this and go fucking find her- 

She was walking down the hallway, and, without a word, looped Her arms through Ben’s. 

Go. 

Ben didn’t stop playing the music—despite the many people in suits glaring at him—as She half-marched down the hall. Her face was too neutral, almost statue-like, and she still wasn’t speaking. Ben could swear he could hear Her fucking singing, like a ghost or phantom on the wind, but Her mouth was closed. 

They made it out. The rest of their team still looked tense and confused, and She was still being so fucking weird, but they’d made it the fuck out. Ben knew She was with them—he could feel Her humming and taut somewhere in his head—but she still didn’t speak. 

Butcher started driving, and when they crossed the lines out of DC, Ben finally felt a tug of his arm. 

Off. 

When the song stopped and Ben looked back to Her, tucked against his side, her eyes were far away, and he could hear Her fucking brain moving. 

“You gonna bloody explain whatever the fuckin hell you just pulled-“ 

“Drive, Butcher.” She snapped, eyes still glazed over. “Fast.” 

The ride was silent for another ten minutes. The didn’t have the V. They were out of fucking options, and they still had to figure out the Cornucopia, and they were fucked- 

Ben. 

He glanced down at Her, and found her staring at him. What- 

I got it. 

You- 

I followed Mallory and Muller to the oval office, which is like, really small by the way- 

Ben grunted Her name, trying to keep her perfect, too fast mind on one track. What the fuck did you get. 

The location. Of the executive V. It’s in a warehouse in Boston. 

Ben nodded slowly. So let’s go fucking get it. 

We need to deal with Edgar first. She sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. No loose ends. We can’t get this wrong. 

She squeezed Ben’s hand—resting on her waist—and cleared her throat. 

Ben frowned. You’re telling them- 

Everything. “Butcher, pull over.” 

“We’re on the fuckin freeway-“ 

“So find a rest stop or take the next exit.” 

Ben could hear Butcher’s sigh, but the ass wasn’t stupid enough to keep arguing—not when Her tone was so flat and forceful, her face painted in a tight, resolved look—so they were parked within two minutes. 

“Can I, uh,” Hughie coughed. “I need to go to the bathroom-“ 

“Hold it, lad.” Butcher twisted in his seat, shooting Her a glare. “The fuck was all that-“

“I’m going to talk, and you’re all going to listen. No talking until I’m done.” She looked around the team, leaning forward. “Got it?” 

They got some nods and mumbled agreements—everyone glancing at Ben’s set, purposefully unreadable face like he had shit to say—and She let out a long, heavy breath. Ben’s hand moved to Her thigh, steadying her heart a little further, and she began. 

“We have a leak. I caught it when we met with Edgar, who’s probably doing some cloak and dagger double-agent bullshit, because he knew stuff only Sage and Homelander would know. And I wasn’t sure, but then Ashley jumped ship and confirmed it-“ 

Annie blinked. “Ashley-“ 

“Jumped ship.” She snapped, fingers tapping on Ben’s hand. “At Red River. Don’t get mad at Hughie, I told him to keep it quiet while we were in DC. Ashley’s staying with Neuman, and they’ve both confirm that there’s a leak in either the government or CIA. It’s the government, because it’s Muller. I don’t,” She sighed, chewing on her lips. “I don’t know what the fuck Muller is doing, or what Sage promised him to flip, but it’s him. It’s probably the real reason why we didn’t get the V, but it’s fine. I,” She reached into her jacket, pulling out a folded up piece of paper. “Fixed it. Neuman told me there was an off-site stash of V for the government. Off the books, probably part of a deal for the government to help fund Red River. And I’ve got its location.” She leaned forward, passing the paper over to Annie. “Boston docks warehouse. We’ll need to take care of Edgar first, but that’s it. That’s our shot.” 

The limo was silent as MM and Hughie leaned over Annie’s shoulders, all three of them reading the paper—likely just some fucking evidence—and Butcher scowled at the air. 

“So,” Butcher drawled. “All we gotta do is go to Boston, nab some fuckin V from the federal government, and we’re bloody golden and set?” 

“Unless we fuck up,” She shrugged. “Yeah. And we can clean up Muller and Ashley after, but I think we need to clear Edgar first. He’s actually dangerous, and I’m not sure if he’s playing us or Sage. Muller’s just an idiot, and Ashley’s out of the picture for now.” 

“All she told you was there was a leak?” MM looked up from the paper with a frown. “Nothing else?” 

“She recorded Sage. And if she’s trying to infiltrate us, I burned out her tracker and she doesn’t have her phone. Neuman will keep an eye on her, and she won’t get anywhere close enough to us to get useful information for Sage.” 

“And how do you know Muller is the leak-“ 

“Butcher,” She cut off MM with a sigh. “What did Frenchie use to make the gas, when you met with Homelander and Sage in January?” 

Butcher frowned, something flashing in his eyes. “Agent Orange.” 

She nodded, and turned to Hughie and Annie. “And what did Sage base her gas on?” 

“Oh, God.” Annie shook her head, realization flashing in her eyes. “That’s not good-“ 

“What gas does Sage have?” MM grunted, looking around the limo. “None of you motherfuckers mentioned gas-“ 

“It’s against me,” Ben grunted, and felt Her hand cover his, still on her leg. “Homelander tried to use it during the tower fight. Pussy said Sage designed it after Frenchie’s.” 

“And only we know that,” Hughie mumbled. “Us and Vought. Shit-“ 

“That’s how I know it’s Muller,” She muttered. “And that’s how I know this is it. The V is there,” She nodded to the paper, slightly crumpled in Annie’s hands. “And we’re going to get it.” 

There was another moment of silence, broken by Butcher once more.

“That it, Love?”

 She nodded. “That’s it. We’re fucking finishing this.”

End Note: For such a stoic and emotionally stunted character, all of the Ben centric chapters sure do contain a lot of emotion.

Thank you for reading!! If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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[chuckle-clips]

Charlie: Where I’m from, not smog world, we have compost, right? So we all, everyone has a compost bin up in Vermont, among the cattle. 

Schlatt: What the fuck is going on?

Charlie: And we don’t be wasteful, we aren’t wasteful with our food. So unlike Schlatt here, just going on gameshows—

Schlatt: They lit the ocean on fire, bro. 

Charlie: —Throwing them everywhere. 

Schlatt: Your compost pile is doing jack shit. 

Charlie: I’m eating my…

Schlatt: Your compost is doing jack shit. Eating the butt end of the bread first and enjoying it.

Charlie: I’m eating my butt loaf watching the world burn. That’s what I do.

Schlatt: I’m saving the world by having a little snack before my breakfast. 

Charlie: Yeah. 

Arin: Do they always do this?

Ted: Very frequently. 

Schlatt: This is bullshit, this is absolute bullshit. They lit the ocean on fire. They lit the ocean on fire, Charlie. 

Charlie: You’re not gonna toast it, it’s just gonna be a little thing before—

Schlatt: And then, I gotta recycle, I gotta fucking recycle. 

Charlie: And you want to bust out the straws, you want to kill every single turtle—

Arin: I want to go home!

Charlie: You are home now. This is it.

Ted: Boys, please, calm down. [Coughs] Welcome everyone to Chuckle Sandwich. This is a very special episode. 

Charlie: Yeah, you’re the butt loaf now, buddy. 

Arin: Did you push him?

Charlie: I didn’t actually think that…

Arin: I think this is a bit. 

Ted: Welcome ladies and gentlemen to Chuckle Sandwich this is a… this is…

[Schlatt cries]

Charlie: He loves doing this bit, it’s a good bit he does. 

Ted: Welcome ladies and gentlemen to Chuckle Sandwich, this is a very special episode because we have Mr. Arin Hanson of Game Grumps and of Egoraptor fame here with us today. Welcome, welcome to the— welcome to the show. 

Arin: Thank you. 

Ted: We’re here in your building. 

Arin: That’s right, yeah. 

Schlatt: Help me up. 

Ted: You basically—

Arin: Don’t help him up. It’s a bit. 

Charlie: It’s a bit? Let go. Stop— stop getting up. It’s a bit—

Arin: Oh, now he’s part of the bit. 

Charlie: It’s a— we’re doing a bit! We’re doing a bit!

Ted: Oh my god. 

Arin: You realize this is my office, right?

Charlie: Yeah, it’s a bit. 

Ted: Yeah. Okay. So they’re all rolling around on the floor right now. For our audio listeners, love you to death, Schlatt and Charlie are literally wrestling on the floor. 

Charlie: You gotta help me. You gotta help me. 

Arin: I hope it sounds like it’s like really far in the distance. 

Ted: I hope so too. 

[Schlatt and Charlie moan]

Ted: So, Arin…

Arin: I would help you, but I’m trapped in this corner. 

Ted: Don’t listen to them, just look at me. 

Arin: Okay, sorry. 

Ted: Welcome to the podcast. 

Arin: Thanks, man. 

Ted: How are you doing today?

Arin: You know it’s funny, we had this nice like, very cordial conversation beforehand and now this nonsense is going on. I feel like I was lied to a little bit. 

Ted: Once I sort of introduced the podcast, they sort of went into content mode. 

Arin: Did you switch spots?

Charlie: He’s doing a bit. 

Ted: They’re struggling a little bit. 

Arin: He just wanted to be closer to me. 

Schlatt: Sorry I got hard there. 

Arin: It’s just a long-winded way to get closer to me. 

Ted: That was just him trying to get close to your heart. 

Schlatt: I didn’t think I swung that way. 

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 2 <<Part 1

-You are sitting on a bench in the lakeside park, reading a book and enjoying the bright winter sunshine when a cold nose presses into your hand. You look up to find a blue pitbull nuzzling you for pets. “Oh hi there, baby,” you coo, scratching his broad head without a thought. You follow the leash to the owner, and are very surprised to see Mr. Wick standing there, looking endearingly embarrassed about it all. “Sorry,” he says. “He pulled me over here.” He gives the dog a look as it leans against you, getting side scritches with a blissed-out doggo look. You have a notion that Mr. Wick might be jealous, somehow, but you push it away.

“That’s ok. What a good boy. What’s his name?”

“Um…Dog.”

You smirk up at him. “Original.”

He sighs, looking at you through his hair, and it pulls at your heartstrings for some reason. You pat the bench beside you, and he accepts, though he sits as far away as he can. “He likes you,” he says, looking ruefully down at the dog. “Do you have pets?”

“No,” you admit. “I travel too much.”

“Yeah?”

You can tell he’s surprised to hear this. Most people are. But you live frugally on your barista’s salary so you can go abroad for a month or so. You’re a budget traveler for sure, but you’ve been all over the world.

“Yes. I’m going to Italy this summer.”

“Sounds nice.”

“You’ve been?”

“Several times. For work.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m retired.” He doesn’t elaborate, and you leave it for now. You don’t really talk anymore, just look at the lake, and pet his dog who leans all his solid weight against your leg. You are content in the companionable silence.

You think he is too.

- It’s interesting sometimes, watching the interpersonal pageants of the regulars. When thrice divorced Victoria Fraser-Sims lays eyes on Mr. Wick for the first time in what you have come to consider his corner, she starts coming in for a lot more no-fat double-shot sugar-free vanilla lattés. All the locals are quite…aware…of Vicky’s predatory habits. A part of you wonders if you should warn Mr. Wick, but you reckon a single man who looks like him is quite used to fending off hungry cougars.

She starts by sitting near his table in her tight workout clothes, ostensibly bending over to pick up repeatedly dropped objects, affording various views of her generous cleavage and spin-class toned rear end. You know you have no right to feel so pleased that Mr. Wick seems to ignore her.

But then she ups her game, so bold as to sit down at his table with him to chat. He talks to her politely. One day, she actually succeeds in making him laugh. You hear it, loosed like an arrow that strikes you from across the room.

You have zero right to be jealous, of course, but you can’t help it. You and Mr. Wick have a thing.

Maybe just in your own head, but still.

But maybe they would be a good couple, you reason sadly, making yourself think realistically. Closer to the same age. And he does seem so lonely.

A few days later they come in the door together, seeming content, and your heart plummets to your feet. Holy shit, she actually pulled it off. They’re dating, you’re perfectly convinced.

In that moment you decide to back off. Mr. Wick is at least twenty years your elder. What the fuck would he want with an awkward little gremlin like you? It’s amazing sometimes, how well you can delude yourself. A curse of having a vivid imagination, perhaps. He’s just polite, and you are kind to him, because he seems a little broken. You resolve to behave. No more quips. No more teasing. From this day forward it shall be only, Here’s your coffee, yes sir, have a good day.

You’ve never been terribly good at keeping resolutions, but you’re going to try.

-Your determination to leave Mr. Wick alone is timed conveniently with a new hire who is around your age. He is and cute, and you get on immediately. Your flirting is fairly harmless, though you know the shop is filled with loud laughter from the two of you when your shifts coincide. Sometimes you feel Mr. Wick looking over at you after you’ve had a good chortle, and you sense he is annoyed.

Once, you catch him glaring at Brian’s back like he might like to carve the boy’s liver.

You try to quiet down, but it never really lasts. It’s been a while, since you’ve met someone who you click with so well. A comrade makes working in the service industry slightly more endurable, after all.

-One day, you burn yourself on the steamer wand while Mr. Wick is waiting for his order. Maybe it’s the volume of the unladylike expletive that spills from your lips, but he does not hesitate to come around the counter to check on you. It hurts like a motherfucker, and while you blink back tears you are quick to dig out ice to put on it. He even more quickly bats it into the sink, flipping the faucet on. “Cold water is better.”

Before you know it he is guiding your wrist into the stream with a gentle but exacting grip. “Hold that there,” he instructs. You can’t fathom disobeying him.

Brian stares rather dumbfoundedly at the customer behind the counter. “Um…sir? You can’t be back here.”

 “Then get her the first aid kit instead of standing there looking useless,” he snaps, and the young man jumps into action, scurrying away.

John gives a low whistle once you’ve finished with the cold water, blotting you dry at the butt end of the counter. “You got yourself good.”

“It’s not the first time,” you sigh. You’re not particularly clumsy, but it happens when you’re juggling five things at once to keep the drink orders moving.

John bandages the burn for you, frowning at the salve provided in the first aid kit that expired years ago, but deciding it will do in a pinch. His long-fingered hands are precise, but gentle, and as he touches you, you feel your brain turn to mush. You can’t remember the last time someone took care of you like this.

Maybe he’s not mad at you after all.

Later that day you appear from the back, to find a little paper pharmacy bag on the counter with your name written in concise black print. Inside there is more ointment, large Band-aids, and a little Snickers chocolate bar.

How did he know it’s your favorite?

Even though you didn’t see him come or go, you know it was Mr. Wick, and this small gesture touches you to tips of your toes.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumpuary Day 15-16 & 25-26

Prompt: “You look awful.” | “I’m fine.”

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Depictions of illness; vomiting; allusions to symptoms of stomach virus

A/N: Daryl’s human so humans with stomach bugs experience icky symptoms. There are allusions to those but nothing gross.

You were bouncing on the balls of your feet, your lip securely tucked between your teeth in anticipation. Carol chuckled behind you and patted a hand between your shoulder blades. 

“I think you’re actually vibrating, Y/N.” She laughed a little louder when you beamed at her before it softened into something a bit gentler. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone other than Judith so excited to see Daryl come back. Well, and me but that’s a given.”

“It’s been two weeks. I’ve been going out of my mind!” You made a crazy gesture with your hands and then clasped them together again and continued bouncing. 

“How does he do around all this…energy?” You went still and blinked at her, a great many questions swirling in your gaze. “No, no. It’s not a bad thing! You’re good for him. Great for him. I just wanted to make sure he’s not being a total grump and raining on your parade.”

Pursing your lips, you tilted your head. “No, not really. I mean, at first it was like he didn’t know what to do when I would do a cartwheel through the living room. He just stared a lot. But he smiled!” Daryl always smiled for you. In the beginning, it was only in private. All of it was. He was wary of you. 

You had lived in Alexandria since the beginning. Knowing now what you didn’t know then, he was justified in holding back, keeping secrets. When you had proven to be just the average person trying to survive, it was like a switch had flipped. He’d show up at your house unexpectedly. Sometimes you’d find him just sitting on the porch steps, having a cigarette. Other times, he’d actually knock and ask you to go for a walk. He even taught you how to defend yourself with and without weapons. He wouldn’t teach you to hunt though. Always said you’d scare off the game. 

Things evolved from there. It started small. Daryl wasn’t the type of man who enjoyed public displays of affection. Well, he wasn’t before you came along. He would still blush and duck his head if you kissed him in public. You were always the one to grab his hand but he never pulled away. Hugs were okay but he’d yelp (in a very manly way of course) when you’d grab or swat at his ass. 

It had been nearly two years and you couldn’t imagine life without the grumpy, quiet bowman. 

“I’m glad he found you.” Carol wrapped her arm around your shoulders, kissing the top of your head when you laid it against her. You were about to say something else when the shout came to open the gates. 

You jumped up and down, jostling the woman beside you but even as she laughed, you paid her no mind. Your eyes followed the man on the motorcycle. He rode through faster than he should have, something you always scolded him for but he’d only scoff at you. 

“You’re back!” You leapt on him, wrapping your legs around his waist, just as his boot touched the ground after dismounting the bike. “I missed you!”

“Ain’t been tha’ long.” He spoke into your shoulder. His arms held you steady but if he had let go, he would have found you securely latched to his front. 

“It’s been two weeks! That’s the equivalent of forever!” You pulled back and pouted at him, your lip jutting out further when he lowered you. “You hurt? Bring back all your parts?”

“Nah, M’good.” He answered tiredly. Your eyes narrowed when you realized how exhausted he actually looked; something off by the way he was even just standing still. 

“I think we should get you to bed and not for the fun stuff. Not yet anyway.” You stepped around him and retrieved his bag and crossbow, smacking his hand when he reached to take them from you. “I got it. Come on.” He was grumbling something about stubborn woman as he walked just beside you. 

You watched him from the corner of your eye, making certain to be discrete. Daryl would never openly show vulnerability, especially outside your home. He rarely let it be seen inside your home. At the very moment though, you weren’t sure if he realized he was doing it. His hand was clutching his stomach over his vest, fingers digging into the leather until his knuckles were white. His face was neutral but the pallor to his skin wasn’t something he could hide. 

You balanced his bag on your shoulder and opened the door for him, smiling cheerfully when he scowled at your special treatment. “Go on upstairs. You want a shower?”

“S’tha’ yer way’a tellin’ me I stink?”

“Yes, sir.” You noticed his hand had left his abdomen, but was flexing at his side. “You want something to eat? There’s some leftover venison stew that I could—”

The archer blanched, any color that was left present drained from his face while his throat visibly worked to swallow convulsively. Oh shit. Before you could even put down your burden, he dashed from your sight and into the downstairs bathroom, the sounds of his retching painful to hear. 

You placed his bag on the floor and the crossbow against the wall, walking quietly to the bathroom door. When you peeked around the doorframe, Daryl was on his knees, arms draped around the toilet seat with his forehead resting on his hands. He was no longer heaving but still spitting into the water below. 

You knew what his reaction would probably be but you couldn’t act like you didn’t care. “You okay?” The archer didn’t look up. He stretched out a leg and kicked the door shut. You had the good sense to not be in the way of the wooden barrier. 

You were expecting wounds and bruises, not stomach ailments. The medical supplies you had set up in the en-suite bathroom would remain there. You hadn’t seen much of him before he was sick and he could still have injuries that needed care. Now, you needed to add some fresh towels, clothes, and a basin of water with a cloth to put by the bed. You had some Tylenol from the infirmary, just in case he needed it for pain, not anticipating he’d probably need it for fever. 

There were a few cans of chicken noodle soup that you could drain the broth from later, but for now, until the nausea passed, you went downstairs for a few bottles of water. You doubted there was any ginger ale in the pantry but if you were able to see Carol or she came for a visit, you could ask. There was no way you were leaving him for it. 

Everything was set up, including the shower. You were hoping you could coax him in just to get him clean and comfortable. With a gentle knock on the door, you placed your forehead against it, wincing at the sounds coming from inside. Seemed like the toilet and sink were receiving his attention. 

Definitely a stomach virus, but you’d have to ask about what he’d eaten the past few days to rule out food poisoning and other gastric ailments. 

“Daryl? Are you okay?”

“Go ‘way.” The reply was gravelly and weak. 

“I’ll be in the kitchen.” You replied softly, promptly walking away from the door. He was going to be ultra embarrassed after that, so you had to handle things carefully. The last thing you or he needed was for him to try and run because he was ashamed of things he had no control over. 

You set about cleaning up the kitchen, though it barely needed it. You kept everything spotless most of the time. Daryl was always out doing physical jobs while you helped with inventory or delivered meals to the elderly residents. He didn’t need to worry about the state of your home when he was able to be there. 

It was about half an hour before you heard the toilet flush and the tap turn on. It ran for longer than usual. You assumed he was washing his hands and rinsing his mouth. His toothbrush was upstairs but you made a mental note to ask for two more to keep downstairs. 

You were leaning on the kitchen island when he finally emerged. He was drenched with sweat, his face flushed from embarrassment or fever. Maybe both. His belt was still undone but his pants were zipped and buttoned. Poor guy looked like a wreck. 

“Hey.” You called softly, earning his attention. “You look awful. Are you okay?”

He nodded, the movement jerky. “Thank christ fer indoor plumbin’.” He rasped, joining you on the other side of the island. He leaned forward and placed his forehead on the cool surface of the countertop with a sigh. 

“Did you eat anything weird while you were out?” You circled the structure to stand by him and rub his back in slow, soothing circles. 

The bowman rolled his head back and forth against the countertop. “Nah. Jus’ the regular expired canned shit we could find.” It made you sad to think that this was the norm now. Relying on food that was far past the date of recommended consumption. 

“When did you eat last?” You rubbed the back of his neck, his muscles stiff and knotted. 

“Yesterday afternoon. Wanted ta get back. Didn’ go lookin’ fer anythin’ today.”

Still could be food poisoning. You’d have to ask if anyone else was sick. “Let’s get you upstairs. Think you can shower?” Daryl straightened with a grimace before nodding. You met his gaze with a gentle smile, bringing up a hand to sweep the damp hair away from his eyes. “Come on then.” A hand on the small of his back gently urged him forward, his shuffling steps and unsteady gait giving him the appearance of a living walker. 

You trailed behind him up the stairs, braced and ready in case he lost his balance, but the ascent was successful without any tumbling. The archer was shedding clothing before even reaching the bathroom, down to his jeans and socks by the time he was standing in front of the shower. 

“Do you need me to stay?” It was a reluctant question. Daryl hated it when you hovered but he was sick and exhausted so it was an offer you had to give him. 

“Nah. M’fine.” He was unzipping his jeans when you pulled the bathroom door closed behind you. 

The shower began running moments later, so you busied yourself with grabbing your own pajamas, turning down the bed, and pulling a chair over to his side. As an afterthought, you placed the room’s small wastebasket there as well. The shower was still running when you heard the unmistakable sounds of another round of vomiting, your heart clenching at the painful noises. 

“Daryl?” You called loudly enough for him to hear through the door and over the spray of water. 

“M’…m’okay.” A low, strained answer from the other side. 

With nothing else to do, you sat down on the end of the mattress to wait for him. The toilet flushed but the shower continued for several more minutes. There was a brief silence followed by a shuffle of clothing, and the sounds of him brushing his teeth. 

When the door finally opened, he looked clean in his sweats and t-shirt but no less miserable. His hair was still damp, beads of water dripping from the ends. Even as undesirable as the situation was, it was hard not to take note of how normal he looked dressed like that. It was as if you were a couple before the end of the world, spending an evening at home in comfort and without fear. But the reality was that fear was always lingering. Always. 

“Bedtime for you, mister.” 

He couldn’t even manage to scowl at you properly, ending up with a tired frown dripping with resignation. He was slow to lower onto the bed and said nothing when you pulled the blankets over him. 

“Anything need stitched or bandaged?” You asked, brushing his hair away from his face. There was always a warmth that crept into your chest when he didn’t flinch away from your loving touches. 

“Jus’ a few bruises. Nothin’ ta worry ‘bout.” When you fixed him with a skeptical stare, he sighed. “Promise.” Daryl didn’t take that word lightly and never used it carelessly. 

“Okay, try to sleep.” You perched yourself on the chair, noticing he couldn’t be bothered to care. He turned onto his side, facing you with his legs drawn up slightly. His stomach was surely angry and cramping, muscles tired from heaving on top of feeling nauseous. There was no hesitation in your hand resting just below his knee, rubbing the area in what you hoped was a comforting gesture. 

He was asleep within moments. 

Watching him grimace and tense without waking, you let your mind build scenarios and how you would handle them. If Rick came knocking with requests of the archer, you’d kindly tell him to get bent. If Carol came over, you could get her to fetch some things for you that would help keep him comfortable while he recovered. If he continued vomiting and couldn’t keep down the water at the very least, you’d need to leave long enough to grab Denise. 

Daryl woke suddenly, lurching over the side of the bed to retch into the wastebasket you had been smart enough to grab earlier. There was nothing left but acidic bile to bring up but it sounded no less brutal. You could do nothing but keep his hair out of the way and rub his back. There was a moment of consideration. Maybe if you could alert Denise, she would have something for the nausea. 

That train of thought was interrupted by the hunter shakily pushing himself back up only to sag back against his pillow. 

“Sucks.” He mumbled, eyes closed.  “Ain’t been sick since…S’been a long time.”

You were gently rubbing his stomach which he either didn’t notice or it felt nice so he allowed it to continue. 

“It won’t last forever.” You whispered, watching as he dozed off again. 

He was still resting comfortably when the knock came on the front door downstairs. Reluctantly, you rose from the chair, taking just another second to brush Daryl’s hair away from his eyes. He mumbled something, turning his head away, but remained asleep. You wanted to be quick.You just weren’t willing to leave him alone for long. 

“Hey!” Carol greeted with that gentle smile of hers. After all she’d been through, even with her apprehension about settling there in Alexandria, she was able to keep that kindness. Especially when it came to Daryl. 

“Hey.” You said, turning to look anxiously at the stairs. 

“What’s wrong? Where’s Daryl?” When you turned back to her, the smile was gone, replaced with growing concern. 

“He’s asleep. I need a favor. He’s sick. Could you grab a few things for him? Anything he might be able to keep down.” The other woman was already nodding. “Maybe put a bug in Denise’s ear in case she has anything for nausea.”

“Is he alright? Really?” Carol was leaning closer toward the doorway. It was obvious she wanted to go to him. 

“Yeah, he’s okay for now. He hasn’t thrown up in an hour or so but when he first got back…” You trailed off, looking back at the stairs again. “Could you please do all that for me? Then maybe come upstairs and see him? I know he won’t want anyone else seeing him like this. But you and me? We don’t count.” You smiled, knowing it was true. Carol and yourself were the only people Daryl was fully comfortable relaxing around. 

“You got it. I’ll be back soon.”

“I’ll leave the door unlocked.” You watched her swiftly descend the porch steps before closing the door and nearly sprinting up the stairs. The bowman was still sound asleep when you returned to the bedroom. He still looked pale but there was no fever, no signs of dehydration just yet. 

You made yourself comfortable in the chair, drawing up one knee to rest your chin on it. You’d be his silent sentinel until he was better. 

Whether he liked it or not. 

[blingblong55]

Friendly games-141

Based on a request:

Hi! I’m not sure you would be interested, can I make a request of whole Tf141 x Gn!Reader playing badminton 🏸?

Just a little bit of fun ☺️ ---- GN!Reader, platonic!relationship, fluff??? ----

A/N: I love these kinds of ideas….so lets do this and also…it's short…sorry

Charity events, what a fun way to raise money for those who need it. Well…it's fun until Kate Laswell makes you be a part of the event and play a stupid game in front of your stupid colleagues. Soap, I'm talking about you, Ghost thinks the whole way to the court. Task Force 141, all in shorts, stretching and giving each other stares. You were smiling, this being the first time you could play your favourite with a reason behind it. The day before there was a three-hour-long debate with Laswell to make someone else play instead of the task force.

It didn't work of course since you all were already stretching and glaring at those in attendance. The selection for a teammate was easy and Soap got lucky that Ghost was already tired of his bullshit compliments or else he'd be in your place. Gaz was chosen by Price, Ghost chose you and Soap was a backup for you or anyone who got injured. You and Ghost gave each other a stare, "Don't let me down, R/N." You chuckle, "If you let me down, Soap will take your place." "Hurting me, mate."

Once the game begins, Soap starts making some jokes about Gaz's ass and Price's, occasionally he would roast Ghost and those comments made Laswell laugh. Military families all enjoyed the match as Price and you became more competitive, so much so the match was just you two, Gaz and Ghost just walked around the court, pretending to help or even be involved for that matter. You made it your point to make Price feel old. This all started as an inside joke between the task force and more so when you were called the kid/ baby of the team.

It was worse when Gaz would do a baby voice and try to feed you mashed food. So now, this was you showing off and having fun. After much fun and a pat on the shoulder by Ghost, you walk off and hand the racket to Laswell. "Call Chimera tomorrow, I'm fucking done." You sit down next to Soap and lean on him. "'least you won, mate." You groan and Gaz chuckles. "How much do want to bet Ghost and Price are talking to Laswell to not include us in another charity event?"

"Three pints at Old Man's pub," Soap says with a grin. You all stand up and leave the event. "Where are you guys going?" "Roach, you either join us or stay with the old grumps." Gaz comments as he walks through the doorway. He nods and gladly follows along, it was always an adventure when all of the young ones of the task force went out for drinks. "So, how come you knew the sport so well?" Soap asks you. "I used to play it when I was younger." Gaz lets out a chuckle, "You were one of those kids?" "I'll stick the racket up your ass if you make a joke." You jokingly threaten and he switches places with Roach who is furthest from you.

With one too many pints and jokes, Price found you all laughing at impersonations of the lieutenant and himself. Ghost was about to walk to you all and scare you but then Price stops him. "Let them have this day, they don't get moments like this."

For the entire evening, the younger members of the team all laughed and Ghost watched from afar with Price. "R/N will never stop with the old man jokes." Ghost chuckles. He knows how much you'll enjoy the nicknames you'll eventually call out. He also knows you keep a list for when you finally get to call Price some nicknames that correlate to being old. "I'll let them," Price shrugs. Price too knows this is you just being comfortable around and although no one says it, he sees you as a little sibling and you see him as a trusted older brother.

Tags:

@liyanahelena @imasimpsowhat06 @thisistotesnotspam-heart @luvecarson @aliceinwondwonderland @rhaenryawhore @vincentthe-moneymaker @anonymuslydumb @johfaam0 @goldenmclaren @froggy-anon @frazie99 @spicypicklesoh @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @willowaftxn83-87 @saoirse06

[trashyswitch]

Day 15: "Are You Ticklish?"

Dan, Arin and the other members of Game Grumps are setting up the next 10 minute power hour. But while they're doing that, Arin's silliness gets out of control. This leads to Dan taking a large brunt of it while other staff members watch.

Can you guess which 'The Grumps' episode I directly referenced? Enjoy the read, and good luck guessing!

Dan and Arin were setting up their Grump space for today’s episode of the ten minute power hour. Their staff were moving the items over to the side, so Vanessa could throw them at the table. Arin was setting up the dinosaurs and the scissor-filled cup holder in the middle of the table, while Dan was trying to figure out how to do his hair for this episode.

“Should I put it in a pony? A bun?” Dan asked. 

Arin adjusted the angle of the left dinosaur. “I don’t know. Just throw it up how you want.” Arin told him. 

“Fine…” Dan took the pony off his wrist and flicked it at Arin’s butt. 

“OW!” Arin lifted his back and grabbed his ass. “Dude!” He looked at Dan. “...Again?” He asked. 

This earned a small fit of laughter from the co-host. “Please don’t!” Dan ordered. 

“Here.” Vanessa handed Dan a large hair clip. “Thanks!” Dan took it, and threw his hair into a half-up, half-down haircut. “How does it look?” 

“Looks good.” another staff member said. “Looks like you whipped it up in 5 seconds.” Vanessa spoke up. 

“Come on…” Dan hung his head with a laugh. “I’m getting mixed signals here.” He took it out and tried clipping it in again. “This better?” 

“Turn around?” Vanessa told him.  Dan turned to show her the rest of the hairstyle. 

“Looks fine.” Vanessa replied. 

“Thanks.” Dan replied, adjusting his blue plaid shirt. “Arin?” 

“Huh?” Arin looked up. “How does it look?” Dan asked him. 

Arin looked at the back, and thought for a moment. “I feel like a scrunchie would look better.” Arin told him. 

“Come on…” Toasti said in the audience. 

“Arin…” Dan huffed and looked at the audience. “I have a scrunchie in my bag. Can you get it for me?” Dan asked Tucker. “It doesn’t match at all, but it’ll work.” 

“Sure.” Tucker replied. “Where’s your bag?” 

“It’s outside the room by the couch.” Dan explained. 

“Got it.” Tucker replied. The door could be heard closing as both the hosts sat down in their respective chairs “You ready?” Arin asked. 

“Ready for what?” Dan asked him. 

Arin stared at him for a couple moments, before looking down. “...I don’t fuckin’ know…” He muttered. 

Dan laughed. “ArE yOu ReAdY? For what, Arin? YES!” Dan reenacted, making fun of their 2-second conversation. 

Arin laughed at it, loving the use of the ‘YES’ at the end. “I just wanna make sure you’re on your toes!” Arin told him, sending a couple playful little punches his way. “Ready for anything…” Arin kept going. 

“Anything?” Dan clarified. 

“Anything!” Arin brought his fist up to Dan’s face, and stopped it mere millimeters away from his face. A couple seconds later, Arin popped out his fingers and poked right above his eyes. “Ahaaa, I gotcha~” Arin joked. 

“You need to work on that…” Dan told him. 

Arin just flopped his fist against the table and laughed. “Ihi really don’t.” He told him. 

“Oh really?” Dan smirked. “How are you gonna…‘keep me on my toes’?” Dan asked him. 

Arin smirked. “3 words. That’s all it would take.” He clarified. 

“To get me going?” Dan asked. “Alright. Alright, what are those ‘3 words’?” Dan asked. “Spill the beans.” 

Arin smirked. “Alright.” He sat up a bit more and adjusted himself in his seat. “Are you ticklish?” Arin asked him. 

Dan blinked once…he blinked twice… “Are those the-” Dan’s eyes widened when he saw the little nod from Arin… And in no seconds flat, Dan jumped off the chair. “NO!” He tripped on the chair, but managed to take off running to the other side of the room. 

Arin, and the audience all bursted out laughing at the reaction. “OHO MY GOD!” Arin shouted, slamming his hand on the desk. 

“That was…The biggest lie, followed up by the deadest giveaway.” Vanessa told him. 

“Come on, Dan…” Arin reacted, getting off the chair. 

“NO, don’t get any closer!” Dan warned. 

“Why? Are you actually ticklish?!” Arin asked. Dan stared at him with slight fear in his eyes. “.....Uuuhhhh…” 

Arin walked a couple steps closer. 

“Arin…” Dan warned. 

“It’s not that bad.” Arin reassured him. 

“There’s an audience!” Dan yelled, gesturing to the 6 people in the room. 

Arin turned towards the audience. “Tell me, beloved audience: would you be bothered if I just-so-happen to tickle Dan right before the power hour?” Arin asked them. 

“DO IT!” Vanessa yelled. 

“Vanessa!” Dan yelled. 

“Come on! We’ve been friends for how long again?” Arin asked. 

“11 years!” Toasti spoke up. “Yeah, 11 years! And I rarely EVER tickle you!” Arin told him. 

Dan bit his lip as he heard the audience cheer “Do it! Do it! Do it!” over and over again. “I feel so betrayed right now.” 

Arin smirked and looked at Dan. “The lovelies want it!” Arin let him know. And this was the only warning he gave, before sprinting up to Dan. 

“ARIN!” Dan kept on shouting his name as Arin pulled him back into the show light. And of course, those shouts and protests were quickly drowned out by Dan’s own yelps and laughter. “FAHACK! HAHAHAHA- FUCK YOHOHOU!” Dan cackled, falling to the ground in under 5 seconds. 

“Down he goes!” Arin declared, kneeling down and continuing the onslaught. 

“NonoNO ARIHIHIHIN!” Dan weakly grabbed Arin’s hands as he threw his head back with wheezy laughter. 

“Jesus, dude! I keep going for different spots, and they’re ALL TICKLISH!” Arin reacted.

“SHUHUT UHUHUP!” Dan shouted. 

Arin dug his fingers into his sides. “His sides are bad…” He went for his ribs. “His ribs too…” He dug his fingers into his armpits next. “His armpits are somehow worse…” Arin told him. 

“Ihihif yohohou ehend up with a bruhuise, Ihihi am NOT- HAHAHA- REHESPONSIBLE!” Dan yelled at him. 

“Try his feet!” Vanessa spoke up. 

“NO!” Dan shouted. 

“Aw, great idea!” It didn’t take long for Arin to grab both his ankles in a chokehold. With his feet stuck, Arin looked at Dan with a smirk. “Any last words~?” 

Dan looked at the audience for a couple seconds, before looking at Arin with a tense smile. “Go fuck yourself.” 

“Oh, don’t you worry.” Arin started tickling the arches of his feet, earning him a big fit of cackles. “I’ll save that for a little later.” 

“BaHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Dan tugged on his feet, hugging himself as the laughter just kept exploding out of his mouth. “AHAHARIHIHIN! HAHAHAHA- NOHOHO MOHOHORE!” Dan shouted. 

“Holy shit- I think this is the worst so far!” Arin reacted, earning some laughs from the audience.

“FUCK YOHOHOHOU!” Dan shouted. 

“Okay, fun time’s over.” Arin stopped his fingers and gently put his feet onto the ground. Dan’s huffing and heavy breathing filled the room for a few moments while Arin took the scrunchy from Tucker. “Here’s your scrunchie.” Arin told him. 

Dan took it and flopped his hand onto the ground again, letting his breathing slow down first. “Okay…thank you…” He mumbled. 

“Are you okay?” Tucker asked.  Dan nodded his head and sat himself up. Once he was on his feet, Dan whipped his hair into a half-up, half-down hairstyle like discussed earlier. “This look good?” 

Arin looked at it. “Looks good.” He replied. 

“Great.” Dan sat down on the chair as the lights dimmed. “I’m just glad I peed before I got in here…because I would’ve needed a diaper change after that…” Dan said. 

“You don’t need to go again?” Arin asked, moving his hair out of his face. 

“Nope.” Dan replied. 

“Wait, again?” Someone said. “How many times a day do you think you pee?” Toasti asked.

“I don’t poop enough.” Vanessa replied. 

“I love poop. I love 💩. I 💩 like 3 or 4 times a day.” Arin said. 

“How many times do you poop, Dan?” Vanessa asked. 

“The pee for me is like 11.” Tucker spoke up. 

“If the pee breaks up long enough, and then you’re like ‘Oh?’ and then there’s like a second wind, does that count as two pees?” Dan asked. He looked around. “Did we start the episo-” 

“No, no, no, no, no- it’s-” Arin spoke up. “It’s- that’s one pee.” 

The light turned on, signaling the beginning of the episode. “Hello!” Dan spoke up right away. “And welcome to the 10 Minute Power Hour!" “Yay-” Arin spoke up. 

“This is- My name is Dan, and you are Arin.” Dan said, still looking at the camera. “Hello.” Dan said to Arin, despite STILL staring at the camera. 

“Okay.” Arin responded, loving the scripted, yet completely improv intro unfold. In the words of Dan: The show definitely started…

[wosowrites]

I Can Be Your New Home Part 2 (Jessie Fleming x Reader)

warnings: ⚠️alcoholism⚠️

a/n: pretend your mothers name is hellen 💀💀part 2 of I can be your new Home. here is part 1:

prompt: in which after coffee, jessie goes home with the reader and it’s her turn to comfort the reader about a situation going on in her life.

"Game day tomorrow? How you all feeling?" Magda asked the girls who were out for coffee as you all sat around a round table outside. The London air was crisp and warm and the trees were finally starting to show their fall colours. It was a good time of the year, you loved august.

"You can drop the captain act, Mags." You joked, sipping a flat white. "Maybe I just actually care. Man United is a good team, I want to make sure no one is stressed." She said, smiling at you lightly.

Magda knew you weren’t great with your own emotions, she was always kind to you about it.

"Well I feel like we’re gonna kick some red devil butt." You said, lifting your coffee in the air. "Here here!" Guro echoed in her best, sarcastic british accent.

You all drank your coffee and talked, took teasing pictures of each other, and eventually you told the group you had to go. "Have to have my weekly call with Hell-en." you told the girls. The younger ones laughed, thinking the nickname for your mother was clever, the older girls rolled their eyes, believing you should try to fix your relationship with your mum. "Wait. I’m missing something here. Hell-en?" Jessie asked, confused. "Oh right, you don’t know about her. I’ll explain in the car, want me to drive you home?" You asked Jessie. "Yeah, sure."

She stood up and zipped her coat up before saying bye to the girls and walking towards your car with you. You guys settled into the car, you in the drivers seat. You subconsciously did the one hand on the wheel, and looking back thing to pull out of the driveway. Jessie visibly shivered. "You cold?" You asked her. "Nope. Now tell me what Hell-en means." Jessie asked.

"Helen is my mother. I don’t get along with her. She was deep into the addiction lifestyle by the time I was 10 and was just never really around. A year ago, she called me and told me she wanted to fix our relationship. She asked for one call a week, so I agreed out of the goodness of my heart… that’s a lie it took me two months to agree to an every week call. Anyways, it’s awkward, and long, and I hate it and I’m always in a bad mood after the call, which means that I’m in a bad mood when I go to bed, which means I’m in a bad mood for training or the practice the next day." You told her, eyes on the road. "Ahh, so that explains the reason why once a week you’re such a grump before the games." Jessie laughed. "Yep. That’s it." You smiled.

There was a little silence that was broken by Jessie putting her hand on top of yours who was resting on your thigh. "I’m sorry though. I’m really sorry. You deserved better, you were really young." Jessie said.

You bit the inside of your cheek, a bad habit you had developed, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure could hear. "Your heart is beating fast." Jessie said, almost a whisper. "Yeah. I know." You said quietly, not meeting her eye. The atmosphere was very tense, but not uncomfortable, just full of nerves. "Yours is beating hard too, Jess." You said, switching lanes. Her hand was still on yours. "Yeah. I know."

You had to move your hand to switch gears, it shocked her a bit as the car has been silent for five minutes. She took her hand back, and before you knew it, you had placed yours on her thigh, rubbing your thumb on her skin gently.

"Go to your house." Jessie said, breaking the silence. "What?" You asked, confused. "You said you’re always in a bad mood after the calls. Let me make it better. Call your mum, and i’ll cook for you. We can watch a movie and just chill. I have everything I need for tomorrow in my bag so I can even stay the night. Or I can just get a cab back-" Jessie started saying.

"No! No. You- yes. Yeah you can come to my house and stay over. That’s great. That’s good." You said quickly. Looking over to smile at her and pulling your hand away.

You couldn’t let the undeniable feelings you had for Jessie take over. Not right now.

You quickly took the exit to get off the highway and then made your way into London. You turned onto your street and then parked your car. "You’ve never been here, have you?" You asked Jessie, opening the car door for her. "Nope." She smiled, grabbing her bag. "Well it’s not much but it’s nice. It’s the best home i’ve ever had, easily." You said, not meaning for it to sound as sad as it did. "Well I’m happy you’re letting me see the place." Jessie smiled as you walked into the apartment complex. "Don’t be. I bring a lot of girls back here." You joked, but she didn’t catch it, instead her face scrunched up adorably. "I’m kidding, Jess." You laughed, throwing an arm over her shoulder, causing her to lay her head on your shoulder. "Oh. Good." She said, laughing softly. "Only my mothers have been here. And by my mothers i mean P and Magda." You told her, now on the third floor of the apparement building. "Really? Why?" Jessie asked, following you to the end of the hallway. "I don’t know. I like my personal space I guess. It’s also a little small so not great for gatherings." You told her, putting your key in the door and pushing it open.

Your apartment was really nice. Small, but cozy. Upon entry, to your right, was a kitchen with a marble island. Parallel to the door, there were huge windows exposing the city of London. You had a couch and a TV to the right, and a desk to the left. Farther to the left was the bedroom, with a washroom connecting it. The area was tastefully decorated in white tones, made homey with accents of colours.

"Why am I surprised that it’s not horribly messy?" Jessie laughed, taking over her shoes and her coat. You laughed and took her jacket, hanging it up in the closet. "Well… I don’t know. I guess I am messy at training but I like it clean at home." You said. "Want water?" You asked her. She nodded and you filled up too glasses. "Do you mind if I shower later. We showered at training but is it just me or do the showers there give you the ick?" She said. "No! I get what you mean! Sometimes I feel so dirty after I shower there. Feel free to use it. And anything else. My mums gonna call in about ten." You told her. "Okay. Well I’ll shower while you’re on the call?" Jessie said, making it sound like more of a question. "Yeah. Definitely. Oh there’s clothes in the dresser in case you want something else to wear." You told her with a smile. "And there’s a towel here…" you got one from a closet. "… the conditioner and shampoo are new and-"

"Y/n. It’s okay. I’m good." Jessie said, placing her hand on your stomach gently.

You were taller than her, it was a low bar, but as she stood 5,4, you were about 5,6. "Okay." You breathed out, her touching making you dizzy. "I think your phones ringing." She said, pulling her hand away.

You looked down at the counter, and indeed, the name Hell-en was written on your screen. "Great. Uhm the water warms up quickly, don’t worry."

She nodded and walked towards your room as you answered the call.

"Hey mom." You said, trying your best to give her some kind of enthusiasm. Jessie smiled at you as she closed the bedroom door and you smiled back. "Hey sweetie! How was your day? Big game tomorrow!"

She said the same thing everyday, even when the game wasn’t big.

"It was good. I- well I had training and I went out to get coffee with some of the girls." You told her, sitting up on the counter. You heard the shower turn on. "That’s great. I’m happy you’re happy there." She said gently. "I hear the shower. Is there someone there? A boy?" She asked, hopefully.

You had never come out to her. You never felt the need. You felt as though she didn’t deserve to know you. But everyone knew you were gay, you posted about it on social media, being a big activist for the community and having dated a footballer before. So if she really wanted to know you, she could have just looked it up. "Mom…" you said simply, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Okay! Okay! Actually I have a favour to ask you." Your mother said.

It would be a lie to say you hadn’t been waiting for it. 12 months of talking to your mother on the phone and she hadn’t asked you for anything yet. It was fishy. But you tried your best to be calm and not jump to conclusion. Concentrations on the sound of the shower, the sound they told you that Jessie was right there. "What is it?" You asked her gently. "Listen… I’m in a little financial trouble. Just a small bit! I just need… like… the equivalent of 300 pounds." Your mother said.

You were shocked. The apartment was silent other than the sound of water. "You still there?" Your mom said. "Not for long! Not for fucking long Helen! You call me telling you want to rebuild our relationship! You call me!" You yelled into the phone, not realizing the water had stopped running. "You never wanted a relationship with me! You wanted someone to call in case you ever fuck up again! You wanted somebody to give you cash." The door of the bathroom creaked open. "What is it now? Can’t pay the bills?! Need to bail your drug addict boyfriend out of jail?! TELL ME!" You yelled, tears running down your face and shaking your body.

Jessie was standing in the doorway now, a towel around her and wet hair dripping. She has been alarmed by the yelling. "Honey… I’m just a little short-" Helen started saying. "Save it. Save it. Don’t call me again." You hung up the call and slammed your phone against the counter, back turned away from Jessie.

You heard footsteps and you turned around, seeing Jessie walking towards you. "Y/n…" She said softly, coming up to you and putting her hand on your jaw, using her thumb to wipe your wet cheek.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see that. That’s not me. I don’t yell." You said, sniffling. "I know you don’t. I know you. It’s okay." She said. "I want to hug you but you’ll get all wet." She laughed.

You laughed and sniffled but didn’t care, pulling her in and hugging her. Her head left a wet spot on your shirt, but you didn’t care. "Go get changed, I need to too." You smiled. She walked back to the washroom and you went to your bedroom. You pulled out a grey hoodie and sweatpants for Jessie and and blue sweatsuit for you. You tossed the clothes to Jessie who changed in the washroom as you changed in your room. "Movie?" You asked.

"Definitely." She said. She sat down on the couch and took the remote, scrolling through netflix as you made coffee in the kitchen. "Any particular movie?" She asked. "Nope, I’m open to anything." You told her, pouring you both a cup. "Oh coffee! Thank god. I love Niahm but every time I go over to her house she gives me tea and I can’t take it anymore." Jessie laughed. You smiled at her and handed her a cup. "So… you and Niahm?" You asked, trying to be subtle. "No! No. We’re just friends. Really." She said quickly. "Oh. Okay." You smiled, looking at the TV. She had picked a movie called Into the Tall Grass. "We should talk about the car. And the call with your mum." Jessie said, her eyes still on you as yours were on the TV.

"Mhm." You said, looking back to Jessie. "My mother wanted money. 300 pounds. I didn’t ask why. It doesn’t matter anyways because she’s not getting it. I’m not digging her out of the hole she dug herself in. No, scratch that. The hood she dug both of us in. I just got myself out of that pit. And it’s not my job to get her out." You told her. She nodded, listening you calmly. "I agree. I don’t want you getting hurt." She said to you, moving closer to you a little. Her legs were crossed on the couch, facing you, and your forearms were resting on your thighs as you leaned forward. "And the car…" you said, leaning backwards and turning your head to look at her. "I think you have a pretty big chokehold on me Fleming." You told her, making her blush. "I think you have one on me." Jessie answered, running a hand through her loose, damp hair. "But I can’t date you. You just moved here. You need to get settled in before we could even try to be together."

"That’s not what I want. I’m settled in. The only thing that feels unsettled is that I haven’t kissed you yet." Jessie said.

Her words caught you off guard. You had never once thought you would hear such bold words from Jessie. "Does it now?" You teased, sitting up and crossing your legs so that you mirrored her position. "Yeah. It feels wrong." She said.

"I don’t know how to be with somebody." You told her, entwining your fingers on the backboard of the couch. "Then we’ll learn together." Jessie said.

You looked into Jessie’s eyes, unfamiliar with the feeling of never wanting too look away. You didn’t think, for once, you let your mind go empty. You got closer to Jessie and pushed her gently down on the couch, your body hovering over hers. You looked at her lips, and then kissed her. Your lips tangling, your hand slipping under her hoodie gently as your other hand held your body up over hers. She moans lightly, the feeling of your cold hand taking her by surprise. "Sorry," you giggled into her mouth. "It’s okay" she laughed, not stopping the kiss.

However when air ran out, you had to move off from on top of her. "Feeling satisfied?" you teased her. She took her turn to push you onto the couch, laying her head onto your chest. "Yeah."

You spent the rest of the night with food, movies, and just talking, until it was 9:00 and you went to sleep, bodies tangled together in your bed, just happy she was with you.

[deadlygronkle]

Ancestors Legacy Chapter 18

The Desert: Chapter 8

word count: 7064

Ao3 Prev

Time was pacing back and forth in front of the small spring. It had been hours since Twilight and Warriors left on their hunt. Since they left the others had woken up and have been getting progressively impatient at the fact they were stuck in here.

To alleviate that boredom Four and Wind have taken to playing a game of tag, bouncing over the lying bodies of Wild and Hyrule. The latter two originally played with them but after nearly stepping on Four, it was quickly deemed that they couldn’t actively play with the otter and mouse.

Legend was near Time, drinking from the spring and watching Sky try to fly. It was going well for the most part, in the beginning it was a lot more falling than flying. Now however Sky could glide down from the top of the stairs to the spring with ease. Actually flying was another matter altogether given how there was no wind draft for Sky to practice with.

“You are doing remarkably well for someone who has only recently achieved this form,” The Great Fairy commented as Sky landed after his most recent attempt.

“Thanks! Training with Loftwings since I was young definitely helped,” Sky answered as he righted himself, out of breath, “I still can’t fly properly though,”

“All things take time,” The Great Fairy smiled softly, “Go and rest, you will need energy for the fights to come,”

Sky nodded, quickly getting a drink of water before hopping over to the other Links. He laid down in between Hyrule and Wild, his feathers puffing up slightly as he tried to nap. Wind and Four took to being extremely careful not to fall on him while they were jumping.

“Stop your pacing old man,” Legend grumped, hopping over to the wolf, “It isn’t doing anyone any good,”

“I am not pacing,” Time huffed, his ears going back.

“Sure you aren’t,” Legend rolled his eyes, “Just like Warriors isn’t causing any problems, and Wolfie is protecting him despite the problems he is causing,”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. Who knows what those ‘interlopers’ would do if they caught them? Especially since Warriors accidentally saved one of them,” Time’s good eye narrowed slightly at the pink rabbit.

“Like that overgrown mutt wouldn’t allow that to happen,” Legend scoffed, adjusting his small red tunic, “He could probably smell a needle out of a haystack if given the chance,”

“The interlopers have magic on their side,” Time argued, “Who knows what they are capable of?”

“Ok, you got me there, Although,“ Legend started to hop away, glancing over his shoulder, “You’ve been worrying too much. Who knows what kind of tricks that mutt has up his sleeves here?”

With that Legend went over to the others, watching as Four used him as a barrier from Wind. This didn’t work as intended as Wind barreled into Legend, knocking both of them to the floor. Wind and Four laughed as the rabbit shoved the otter off, complaining loudly as he did so.

Still, there was something nagging at the back of his head while he watched the others have fun. That poe was enraged at him for no reason he knew of. Did he do something in the future for that poe’s fate to be his fault? Why was it here in the Zone of all places?

“The pink rodent is correct, you worry so much,” The Great Fairy’s voice made him jump, “Why?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? There are just too many unknowns to not worry,” Time shook his head as he sat down, his head swarming with everything.

“Concerns like that are unnecessary. Worrying will not help you prevent what is to come or what could come. Only action can prevent it,” The Great fairy had her arms folded in front of her, watching the Links play.

Time sighed, “Easy to say, harder to do,”

“You are the Ancestor of this Era’s hero,” The Great Fairy’s eyes looked away at something Time couldn’t see, “Just because it was hard, never stopped you before. Even now it hasn’t,”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Time felt himself unconsciously bristle at her words.

Her words struck him as odd. She was talking to him, yes, but her words sounded like she was addressing someone else. It was like a threat, that she knew his fate, that she knew far more than anyone here could fathom.

The Great Fairy simply tilted her head and looked down at him, “You are the ancestor of the Hero of the era are you not? Or have I mistaken you for someone else?”

“Well- no that’s accurate- but that isn’t what I was referring to,” Time floundered slightly, his voice gaining a hint of frustration towards the end.

“I have been alive for many years, and seen many things in my time,” The Great Fairy responded in a gentle, calm tone, “Your allies will be entering soon,”

Almost as if on cue, Legend perked up, his pink ears swiveling. Time could hear light thumping as Warriors came into the view. He looked no worse than he did when he left, in fact he seemed a lot more chipper than when he left.

“I’m baaack!” Warriors called out, jumping down the stairs easily.

“Cap!” Wind squeaked, abandoning his game to skitter over to the lion, “What did you two find out there? Was it dangerous? Where is Wolfie?”

“Food. No, not really. And he is up stairs dragging the corpse down a flight or two of stairs,” Warriors answered, his ears flickering slightly.

As if on cue there was a loud crashing noise that came from above. Silence followed it before the crashing noise continued until it stopped suddenly . Warriors shook his head, almost in a fond way as they others looked at eachother with confusion.

“Okay back up,” Legend stood up, “What the hell did you bring, a bear? Also why are you so happy? Last I saw you you were ready to tear Wolfie apart,”

Warriors did his best to shrug, “Things change, now everyone get up there and eat. It took a while to find something for everyone,”

“And do you even know what floor it's on?” Four asked, scurrying up on Wild’s head.

“I left after we got it down to the second floor,” Warriors thought for a moment, “So probably the third floor if anywhere, you can’t exactly miss Wolfie,”

Everyone then began to make their way up the stairs to the next floor. Warriors lagged behind, and rather than leading the others up to Twilight, stared at Time, his expression a mix between grave and sadness. Time, in turn, froze, tilting his head with confusion.

The other seemingly didn’t see that this was happening behind them as they finished climbing the stairs. The sound of their talking slowly faded into the distance as the two continued to stare at each other.

“Do you need something Captain?” Time asked after a moment.

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice….” Warriors murmured, Time just being able to hear the words.

“What?” Time, letting out a small confused whine.

“Nothing,” Warriors sighed, giving the wolf a sad smile, “Say Time? Mind doing me a favor?”

“What is it?” Time padded over to where Warriors was in confusion, “Did something happen out there? Did you and T-Wolfie fight?”

“No nothing like that- well sort of,” Warriors winced a little bit, “Just… if you have any issues, or get any lingering regrets or whatever, mind telling me? I hear it’s better to talk about them rather than keeping it all buried,”

Time nodded along, “What brought this about exactly?”

“I just realized you're there for the others, but no one is there for you,” Warriors walked towards the stairs, “So just…. Let me know if you need to talk about something alright? Just like when you were apart of the war in my world,”

“That was decades ago for me Cap,” Time responded with an amused huff, “But ok, I’ll tell you if something is bothering me,”

Warriors looked back, letting out a relieved chuff, “Thanks. Now let’s go get food shall we?”

“Sure Cap,” Time let himself try and grin in his wolf form.

In reality, despite the smile he had on his face he was concerned. Just what happened out there to bring this up so suddenly. He didn’t like how Warriors was keeping something from him and the group. Maybe it wasn’t as serious as Time was thinking, and just his hungry brain making everything seem more serious.

The two walked up floor after floor, hearing the sound of the others get closer and closer. The two reached the fourth floor seeing the others surrounding a pile of plants and a giant boar. Time saw dried red sand clinging to the stringy hair of the best along the gaping holes on its neck.

Twilight, apparently hearing them enter, looked up from the other, smaller Links and croaked out, “Ah, looks like everyone is here. Now shall we dig in?”

Twilight looked a bit more worse for wear from the last Time saw him. His fur was a lighter color due to all the sand in it. The fur around his mouth and paws were stained a deep crimson, probably due to the giant boar that laid before him. Though he seemed in high spirits despite it.

Time didn’t quite understand why Twilight chose to make his voice sound so forced and gravely. It hid his identity, yes, but it sounded painful to even speak like that. There could have been so many other voices Twilight could have chosen rather than sounding like he ate a mound of gravel and sand.

“Are we going to have to eat this raw?” Sky asked, a talon going to poke at the corpse.

“Yep,” Twilight confirmed, “No one here has opposable thumbs for a fire, and we are underground. Should be fine though, your bodies have digestive systems meant for this,”

“Should?” Sky’s feathers puffed out slightly, “What if it doesn’t work like that?”

“Then pray to the goddesses that The Great Fairy’s spring still has some healing properties,” Twilight retorted dryly, earning a small snort from Warriors.

Time looked over to the herbivores of the group. Legend was examining the plants on what appeared to be a torn up saddle with Hyrule standing over him. Four had accepted his fate and took a fruit, using his small claws to open it and ate the flesh inside. Four even offered some to Hyrule who very gently took it and awkwardly ate it.

“Where did you even find this?” Legend asked, his nose wrinkling as he sniffed some of the plants.

“With the Bullbo when we killed it. Finding plants is harder than meat out there,” Twilight responded.

“Took us a while to even find that beast,” Warriors added, walking over to the boar with Time in tow, “though how exactly are we supposed to eat it?”

“You just… eat it?” Twilight tilted his head, his ears flopping slightly, “Have you never dealt with an animal carcass before on what’s good and what isn’t?”

“No? Why would I?” Warriors asked in equal confusion.

“City boy over here has never needed to before,” Legend snorted from where he was eating the middle and not the ends of the plants, “Always had someone else to do it for him,”

“Oh like you are one to talk buck teeth,” Warriors tail flickered with mild annoyance, “I doubt you ever even cooked for yourself during your adventures,”

“Like you wou-” Legend started to retort.

“ENOUGH!” Time found himself barking it out, coughing, and looking to Twilight, “Humor us please,”

“Follow Wild’s lead: Grab a leg and go to town, mind the bones though,” Twilight nodded down to Wild.

Wild had already dove into the large bull, taking a front leg and ripping it off. Currently Wild was eating the meat from the leg a little away with practise ease. Honestly, Time would not be surprised if this wasn’t the first time he did something like this.

“....What?” Wild asked, looking up from the leg, a bit of meat hanging from his mouth.

“Nothing, just go back to eating,” Twilight spoke, managing a surprising amount of softness despite forcing his voice to be that gravely.

Once Wild did just that Twilight looked down at Wind- who was unsuccessfully doing just that- saying, “Not you, your teeth are much too small- just- here,”

With that Twilight went over to the back of the Bullbo, where claw marks made holes in the flesh, and took a large chunk out of it. With a sickening tearing sound, he tore it out and dropped it at Wind’s paws. The small otter looked surprised by the hunk of meat twice his size.

“There, the most tender piece of meat boars or pigs can have,” Twilight said after a moment, “You and Sky can share that, just let me know if you need more,”

Wind nodded, starting by taking a nibble, diving in eagerly afterwards. Sky did much the same thing, albeit a bit more composed. Perhaps it was the hunger, but Time found himself ripping out a hind leg and digging in. Warriors did the same after a moment of giving Twilight a look of slight confusion.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Warriors asked, everyone else already halfway through their meal, while Twilight hadn't even started his.

“I’ll eat once everyone else has their fill,” Twilight responded, not taking his eyes off of the exit to the upper floor.

“No,” Time side eyed the larger wolf, “You need to eat. Now,”

“I will wait until y’all have had your fill,” Twilight snapped, a small growl following it.

“Have you even eaten while in here Wolfs?” Wild joined in, noticeably frowning.

“Yes. The ‘night’ before I found you all,” Twilight answered snippily, “You all need it more,”

“You are bigger than anyone here-”

“I SAID I’M FINE!” Twilight snapped, snarling without a hint of remorse.

Everyone stopped eating, turning to look at Twilight with a shocked expression. Twilight, much less wolfie, never snapped at the others. Getting annoyed was common, but never full blown yelling at anyone. Even if they did know about how bitter he was after his journey.

It only took a moment for Twilight to realize what he did. His tail and ears went down, as his eyes widened. The gray wolf opened and closed his mouth before letting out an audible sigh.

“I- Sorry…” Twilight spoke slowly after another minute of complete silence, “I shouldn’t have snapped,”

“You’re good,” Wild almost unconsciously replied, “But like what was that? You’ve never done that before,”

Twilight’s ears were still flat against his head as he looked around the waiting Links. Time almost thought that Twilight would continue to be secretive. Though that was quickly pushed away as Twilight sat down with a deep sigh.

“... I heard the interlopers talking while they thought I was asleep. Part of the side effects of my larger form is being more ‘volatile’” Twilight finally managed to say, “That with enhanced senses, strength, and speed make for a dangerous combo,”

“Interesting,” Time tilted his head, “How long will you be like this?”

Interesting would not be a word Time would use alone, he was enraged. Twilight was captured and from the sounds of it, only recently escaped when they found him. No wonder the other wolf was blinded by rage and nearly harmed Warriors. It probably brought him back to the beginning of his journey, when he was forced into a cell.

Time found the manacle hard to not look at.

“Yeah, is there anything else with this curse we need to know?” Warriors added, pawing at the Bullbo leg he had.

“One of the interlopers said a week, and…” Twilight looked away, “...He told the others I will probably need more food than a typical wolf,,”

“Oh so you are just a dumbass then,” Legend groaned, “Why are you so determined to be a martyr?”

“You all need it more than I,” Twilight spoke, still looking away, “Transformations take a lot out of people, especially if you aren’t prepared,”

“All the more reason you should be eating,” Warrior coughed, “I mean- your body is now not only fighting the Zone’s corruption, but this spell and its’ side effects,”

As Twilight shot Warriors a slight glare, Time felt himself tense up. Did Warriors know Twilight’s secret? When did that happen, if ever? Twilight was decent about not slipping up, so how?

“Wait, what do you mean ‘corruption’?” Legend pointed out, now fully turned around.

“We saw a Bulbin corrupted by the Zone. According to Wolfie here it happens to all the monsters in the zone. We are protected because of our triforces, but he says it has never affected him,” Warriors explained, shooting a not so conspicuous stink-eye at Twilight, “That’s gotta use more energy than we do,”

“Animals aren’t affected by the Zones,” Twilight managed to growl out, “Not the cats in Castle Town, nor the chickens in Kakariko. I don’t know why, but that’s how it works,”

“Huh, well at least the triforce comes in handy for something,” Legend spoke sarcastically, raising a mock eyebrow while he looked at the pink paw that held his triforce, “That being said, you need to eat. We can’t have our guide passing out mid fight or something,”

“I said I would eat,” Twilight defended, “Just… after everyone else has their fill,”

“Nope, you gotta eat now,” Legend shrugged, “Everyone but you agree that you need to eat. So eat now, or we will tie you up and force you to,”

Twilight tilted his head, a small grin on his face, “Now how would you go and do that? Last I checked none of you are bigger than me,”

“Shouldn’t wolves know all about strength in numbers?” Warriors butted in, smirking, “Now fucking eat, or else the old man will butt in, and I know you- you do not want that,”

Twilight looked over to Time, his eyes wide and ears down. Time could not find it in himself to feel pity for the other wolf, not when he was purposely ignoring his own health. He needed to eat, just like the others said.

So, Time tilted his head slightly, giving Twilight a pointed look from where he sat across the Bulbo. Twilight huffed in defeat, and using his giant maw, Twilight took a chunk from the Bullbo’s shoulder.

Twilight flopped overdramatically a few feet from the corpse, the only noise coming from him was the noise of him eating the chunk of meat. The other Links went back to eating, the carnivores of the group going faster than the herbivores.

Time was finished quickly all things considered, looking up to see Warriors about done too. He needed to talk to Warriors about what he was saying earlier. Even if it leads to nowhere he needed to know.

“Captain,” Time spoke, waiting for Warriors to look up, “I need to speak to you. Alone.”

“Oooo,” Wind grinned, his tail wagging, “Cap is in trooouubbllleeee,”

Warriors scoffed, gently pushing Wind over, “Yeah right, I’ll be back in a minute,”

The two went down to the floor below them, the sound of the others talking fading into the background. Once on the lower floor, Time turned to look at Warriors, seeing the lion’s confused look on his face. Time held eye contact for as long as he could in this silent standoff.

“So why did you want to talk to me?” Warriors finally spoke, his head turning away from the staring contest.

“Do you know?” was all Time asked.

Warriors had a look of confusion before realization, “What- OH, yeah I know,”

“Know what exactly?” Time specified, hid nose wrinkling slightly.

“Probably more than you do,” Warriors walked up to Time, circling him teasingly, “Like how Twi’s a wolf in goat clothing, who exactly that Shade is, the magic that allows him to transform, and how CREEPY shadow Bulbins look,”

“What was that middle one?” Time asked, widening his one open eye.

“How he transforms? Yeah, it's that crystal that he wears on his neck. There is a whole traumatic story behind it. Though I have reason to suspect the stone gets lodged into his skull, cause of what Dusk did at the castle,” Warriors shrugged.

Time felt a headache coming along, “Not that- I already know how it works- You know who that poe is?”

“Oooohhhh yeahhh,” Warriors drawled out, his tail twinkling slightly as he came to the front of Time, “That was an interesting conversation- say did you know Twilight can actually hear the bastard when he talks? It was very confusing only hearing half of what was said between them,”

“Well who is it?” Time asked.

“Well, that’s the thing,” Warriors sighed, “You know I hate to lie to you, but Twi asked me to keep it a secret. Sorry squirt,”

Time let out a huff or irritation. So much for learning who that malicious spirit was to find out why it hates him so much. At the very least he now knew that Warriors actually knew Twilight’s secret. Though calling him by that nickname was unwarranted.

“So, we good? Or are you still going to put me through the ringer like the over protective wolf that you are?” Warriors teased, a grin showing off his large teeth present.

“I am not-” Time started.

A loud angry bark echoes through the chamber. It was followed by a loud pitched scream. A loud pitched human scream. The two Links shared a look, there was only one person that could make a bark that loud upstairs.

The wolf and the lion ran up the stairs, Warriors leading the way, and bounding up 4 stairs at a time. Time was close behind, trying his best to hear what was going on. The screaming had stopped but that didn’t mean whatever was going on stopped.

Once they were back in the chamber with the dead Bullbo, two things gained Time’s attention. First Twilight and Wild were gone, all that was left in their wake was cleaned off bones. Secondly there were crossbow bolts littering the floor, the only place being spared was the area underneath the stairs and the entrance.

“By the goddesses what happened here?!” Warrior yelled, his fur raising as he spoke.

“The interlopers came and started firing crossbow bolts,” Legend replied, hopping over from where he was hiding, “Wolfie drew their fire and chased those fuckers out. Wild went after him right before you two came back up,”

“Is everyone alright? Did anyone get hit?” Time demanded, his muscles tensing.

“We were all lucky,” Hyrule spoke up, sniffing an arrow as he got up, “Wolfie got nicked while distracting them, got real mad about it too,”

Time’s eye widened, smelling the air only confirmed what Hyrule said. The scent of blood was thick in the air, and as he looked around the room he saw the drying droplets on the stone floor leading up the stairs and out of sight.

Warriors saw the same thing, cursing as he asked, “What was the screaming about?”

“Wolfie got a hold of one of them on the upper floor,” Wind skittered in between Hyrule’s legs, only stopping because he ran into them, “He ran up those stairs faster than I’ve ever seen him move,”

“Like a bat out of hell,” Legend agreed, nodding as he stood on his hind legs, “Anyway, better go after the mutt before he does something he regrets. I’ll get the others down to the Great Fairy incase one of them comes back,”

“Good idea, but-” Warriors frowned, his ears pinned backwards, “How many did you see?”

“Two, a tall one and a short one,” Legend answered, “Don’t know where the third is, but I don’t think that matters at the current moment,”

“Right,” Warriors nodded, turning to Time, “Let’s go find him shall we?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They were lost. A sandstorm had appeared so suddenly the wolf and lion had no chance to try and avoid it. The droplets of a bloody trail that they were following disappeared as the Sandstorm got worse. Neither could even smell the distinct iron scent that the blood had anymore, all of it lost to the wind.

“DO YOU SEE ANYTHING?” Warriors yelled, his voice quickly disappearing into the wind.

Time’s good eye squinted through the storm. He could barely see Warriors who was walking shoulder to shoulder with him, much less a foot away. That, paired with the darkness that the Zone was constantly in, made it nigh impossible to properly see anything.

It wasn’t like they could retreat back to the Cave of Ordeals if they wanted to anyway. All sense of direction was lost when they entered this sandstorm. Left and Right became foreign with how everything looked the same, even their pawprints disappeared soon after they were made.

“NO,” Time hollered at the top of his lungs, “LET’S GO STRAIGHT, MAYBE THEN WE CAN GET OUT OF THIS AND REGROUP,”

It was grueling in that sandstorm. It was like the wind was fighting them specifically, trying to keep them from getting out. Eventually though the sandstorm slowed down enough that Time and Warriors could escape.

Warriors and Time, now that they were no longer in the sandstorm, took to searching the endless twilight looking for their lost companions. They weren’t having much luck however. The trail of blood and paw indents in the sand had long since disappeared thanks to that storm. Nor could either hear anything over the howling wind.

It wasn’t like the two could go back to the cave and wait for Twilight and wind to come back either. They were just as lost as Twilight and Wild were to them. With no prior experience in this desert, everything looked the same. Even the small amount of cacti that could be seen all seemed to merge together.

That sandstorm ruined any and all trace that Twilight and Wild left in their wake. For the same reason they couldn’t even go back to the Cave of Ordeals to wait it out. Time couldn’t even track their scents, granted he was wildly inexperienced in such things, but that didn’t bode well for either of the links.

What Time would give for Twilight to start glowing again.

“Man, wouldn’t it be incredible if Rancher had a bell on him?” Warriors huffed, his tail twinkling as he surveyed the area, “The noise would help us find him at the very least, and then we could use his nose to find Wild,”

“Like Wild would leave Twilight’s side,” Time shook his head, a puff of sand leaving his coat, “Still can’t believe you found out his identity,”

“I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to put everything together,” Warriors sighed, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment, “It should’ve been so obvious. When one leaves, the other appears,”

“It does help that he had a few others covering him,” Time nodded, looking out, “That hardly matters now though. We either need to find them, or get back to the Cave. Either is extremely difficult without someone who knows this place,”

“Knows this place?” Warriors' eyes widened as he bared his teeth in lieu of a smile, “I have an idea, Come on!”

“What is it?” Time trotted after Warriors, tilting his head as they went to the top of a nearby sand dune.

“So do you know about the guy who taught Twilight all his fancy sword moves?” Warriors asked, looking around the top of the dune.

“Yes, the Hero’s Shade. But how do you know of him?” Time asked, his ears flicking as the sand picked up.

“Never mind that,” Warriors turned to look at him, his blue eyes bright with excitement, “Turns out that prick of a poe? Yeah that’s Shade, and being such a hardened old bastard, he HAS to know where those two are!”

Time blinked with confusion, “Why would he know that?”

“Think about it old man,” Warriors used one his paws to gesture to the desert expanse, “That bastard has been following us around for ages now. Twilight specifically, but he knew exactly where we were in comparison to Twilight and pointed us there. Therefore it stands to reason that he knows where Twilight is and where we are!”

Once again, Time was left wondering what exactly did Warriors see on his hunt out with Twilight. It made sense, but yet there was an odd look lingering in Warriors’ eyes. A knowing look that was muted just enough so that Time couldn’t understand why he looked at him like that.

It had been happening far too often for his tastes.

“That is a stretch by all standards Captain,” Time did his best to raise an ‘eyebrow,’ “How do you know that this will work?”

The lion had a somber look on his face a brief second before he went back to grinning, “Well you're here aren’t you? From your last encounter we know he HATES you with as much hate as his undead self can! So he might just do it out of spite or something,”

“....Really?”

“Yup! Don’t think too much about it right now!” Warriors cleared his throat before letting out a loud roar.

Time winced, leaning away as he heard Warriors roar out:

“SHAAADDDEEEEE I KNOW YOU'RE LISTENING! HELP US FIND WILD AND TWILIGHT!”

Silence overcame the two as they waited to see if anything would happen. Nothing did, but the air held an expectant note to it. Honestly it wouldn’t surprise Time if that poe was just waiting for Warriors to say please. It’s what he would do in this situation.

“.....Please?” Warriors added once the silence became too much.

Like clockwork, a soft glow appeared in the distance. It was the same golden color that radiated off of the poe before, but was much softer than what came off of Twilight during his rampage. It wasn’t too far away, but far enough that Warriors and Time would’ve taken ages without the soft beacon.

“See? Told ya,” Warriors looked smug, his tail twitching, showing just how smug he was, “Come on before Shade gets tired of waiting!”

Time shook his head, following at a slower pace over to the light. It was somewhat difficult for him to gain footing on the sand, he slipped every couple of feet. Eventually though he made it up to where Warriors was, and saw a peculiar sight.

Time could see Wild easily. The younger Link was pacing back and forth around a large hole that seemed oddly Twilight shaped. Time couldn’t see in the darkened hole from his position above it. From Wild occasionally sticking his head in the whole, Time assumed that’s where Twilight was.

The oddest thing was that across from Wild was a stag. An ancient one at that with unbelievably large antlers with vines and moss hanging from the end of each of the points. The fur was golden and white, it had a similar pattern to Time’s own fur, the difference being how the white on the stag was far more connected than it was on Time. Said fur was practically see through for Time, showing a hollow skeleton if he looked hard enough.

Time felt himself freeze as the Stag looked up at him and Warriors. It had one ‘good’ eye that glowed bright red as it looked at him, the other socket was completely black and hollow. It did not breathe, the only sign of life was its one eye that slowly filled with hate as it looked at him. It lifted up one of its cracked hooves, stomping it harshly against the ground.

The sand didn’t even stir at this movement.

Time’s hackles raised slightly. This was the shell of a man that Twilight was afraid of disappointing? A thing that Time has only seen with hate in its eyes, someone who used to be his descendant before Twilight? What a stain on the title of Hero that it bore even in death.

Blue met red as the two had this silent staring staring contest. The deer’s ear ever so slightly twitching at the sound of Wild’s voice. Out of the corner of his eye Time could see Warriors watching this with a frown, looking in between the two. Captain, after a moment, loudly sighed, shaking his head as he looked on with pity.

Wild’s ears perked up, turning around and looking up at the two, “Hey! When did you two get here?”

Warriors started to slide down, saying “We just got here a minute ago, say what’s with the hole?”

Time slowly followed, his eye never leaving Shade. He didn’t feel dread pooling in his gut this time but rather a feeling of uneasiness overcame him. During their last encounter he had never gotten so close to it. Now though, as Time shivered slightly, something in him told him that this poe would do nothing, not while Wild, Warriors, and Twilight were nearby.

“No clue,” Wild bent down slightly to peer into the hole again, “Wolfie started to dig, told me to stay up here to keep watch. That’s when the ghostly deer over there showed up,”

“Have you even heard anything from that damned Goat lover?” Warriors asked pointedly ignoring how Wild went slack jaw in favor of also peering down into the hole, “That had to be a cavern before he dug his way down there. Wonder what's down there that made him go down,”

Wild looked frantically between Warriors and Time, his eyes wide. The stag, for this first time, huffed with amusement, the one glowing eye now looking at Wild. Time frowned at the deer before looking back at Wild.

“He knows Cub,” Time grunted, ignoring how the Stag’s eye slowly turned back to him.

“Really? How did you find out his secret?” Wild practically demanded, his attention fully turned to Warriors, his ears perked.

“Eh, something just clicked after seeing how Twi and ‘Wolfie’ reacted the same to stuff,” Warriors briefly glanced up at the Stag, “Have you heard anything from that guy?”

Time stared at Warriors. He was lying, or at least partially. He used that tone of voice in the war to lie to Artemis about his plans. Not to mention how Warriors immediately changed the subject to something else. Something that was usually connected to the truth, but how?

Wild shook his head, not picking up on the lie, “I’ve heard Twi say some things, But deer has uttered a word since it got here. It has just been standing there, staring,”

“I can believe that,” Time tilted his head slightly, “How long have you two been waiting?”

“Not too long,” Wild noticeably frowned, “In fact, this is the quietest he has been,”

“Should we go after him?” Time glanced down for a second before looking back up at Wild.

“I don’t think we should,”

Both Time and Wild turned towards Warriors. He was staring at the Stag, his head tilting ever so slightly. Shade, in return, tilted his head slightly, the red eye softening slightly. Time shook his head at the sight, it seemed like this ‘Hero’s Shade’ just hated him in particular.

“What?” Wild tilted his head, looking in between the two, “Why?”

Warriors flinched slightly, his head quickly turning to survey the area, “I mean- he told you to stay up here for a reason. And he might need us up here to help pull him out of there,”

Time took this chance to actually look into the hole. The entrance was straight down, a limestone like wall lined the side Shade was closest to. The other side had a well worn passage down, like it was carved specifically for travel. If Time had to guess, this tunnel was made back when the Gerudo were still around. But how or why did Twilight find it?

“How would we even do that?” Wild nodded to the hole, “We don’t have hands anymore to help drag him out. Not that he would exactly let us do that,”

“Well, maybe he will find something down there, like a rope or something,” Warriors’ fur bristled ever so slightly, glancing at the deer.

Before Time could reply, Twilight’s slightly distorted voice echoed up to them:

“Everything still good up there Wil- What the fuck?!”

Shade had actually moved, far too quickly for Time’s liking, at the sound at Twilight’s voice. Its antlers were far too large for the entrance, so the stag’s head was hovering just above the hole, looking down into it. It even went so far as to lower its front half down to properly look at Twilight.

“Shade?! How did you- Time and Warriors are up there? Also why are you- Ah, right. Still doesn’t answer why you are here,” Twilight paused for a moment, “I got distracted and lost them,”

Time watched as the stag was motionless as it looked down, not a peep was coming from the poe. So this is what Warriors meant when only Twilight could hear the poe. But if this was the case, what was that voice he heard before?

Wild spoke up, his ears going straight back, “You lost them?! They SHOT you, what could have distracted you after that??”

Twilight’s voice was defensive, “I just got nicked, but I found something far more important. Just… give me a second to get out of here and we can continue this conversation,”

Time could hear the scraping of claws against stone, the manacle rattling as Twilight cursed. A light thud could be heard before the manacle rattled against the stone, picking up pace as the sound of scraping continued. Shade briefly lifted its head out of the entrance, as Time saw Twilight’s ear reach the top before descending back down with a loud thud.

“Pup are you alright!?” Time almost ran to the hole, but was frozen by the glare Shade sent him.

Time growled at Shade, hackles fully raised. Yet he did not walk any closer. It was just a poe, just what could it do to help? Time had a better chance of helping that it did.

“Fuck- Yeah I’m fine! Looks like it's going to be harder to get out then I thought,” Twilight voice was a relief to Time’s ears, distracting him from glaring at the poe.

Time watched as Shade slowly tilted his head, carefully adjusting until a large antler went through the hole as far as the Stag could manage. Its head was still out of the hole though, staring silently at the group. Its hooves now made an imprint into the sand, shifting slightly like it was preparing for something.

“Are you sure about this?” Twilight asked, his voice shaking ever-so slightly, “Ok, ok- give me a second for a running start,”

The sound of Twilight’s manacle grew quiet before the sound grew louder and louder. The sound of the manacle quieted as Shade’s head jerked down abruptly, a loud thud and whine echoed. Shade snorted, slowly pulling his head back up, its hooves digging in the sand as it backed up.

Soon after Twilight’s ears slowly became visible, then the rest of his head. Twilight was biting down on the antler with intense focus as his front paws managed to find a grip in the sand, pulling the rest of him up. He didn’t let go of Shade’s antler until he was completely clear of the hole.

“Thanks,” Twilight spoke as Shade bent down to sniff at the top of his head, “Yeah, I’m fine, just got the air knocked out of me,”

“See what I mean,” Warriors whispered to Time, “Confusing to hear only one side of the conversation isn’t it?”

Time didn’t respond, but he couldn’t help but agree.

As Shade stood back up fully, Time was surprised by the tender look in Shade’s one red eye. Despite the gray wolf’s large size, he was still easily dwarfed by the stag, only barely reaching up to the base of its neck. Time could now see a healed cut on Twilight’s shoulder.

The Stag looked at everyone one more time (sending a bone chilling glare at Time) before running up over a nearby sand dune. The golden stag’s light disappeared as it went over the dune. Twilight shook his head, a small smile on his face as he looked at where it disappeared to.

“Well, what did you find?” Wild asked, making Twilight jump and look around.

“Where are they…” Twilight mumbled, going back to the edge of the hole.

Time felt himself bristle as he spoke, “What are you doing? Get back from it!”

“Give me a second,” Was Twilight’s response before his voice softened, “It’s safe to come out,”

A soft pink light emanated from the hole as two small fairies floated out from it. One dragging a tied up paper, and the other a shard of pottery. Twilight gently took the paper from the fairy, placing it on the ground in front of the other 3 links. The small fairy then floated over to the other, helping to lift the pottery shard onto Twilight’s back.

“So you got distracted with a pot?” Warriors shook his head, “Where would you even put the rupee?”

“No, I didn’t,” Twilight glared at the smirking lion as he pawed open the map, “I found one of the containers The Great Fairy’s power, some captive fairies, and this map of their hideouts in this Zone,”

“But you still broke it?” Warriors said smugly, “Sounds to me like you were still distracted by a pot,”

“Captain…” Twilight growled, his ears slowly going back.

“Rancher…” Warriors replied, sounding like he was about to start laughing.

“Enough you two,” Time warned, earning a huff from the lion and wolf simultaneously.

“How are you sure this map is the real deal?” Wild asked, staring down at the map.

“I don’t,” Twilight nodded to the map, “The Great Fairy might though. Let’s head back and regroup,”

“What will we do after that?” Wild asked, helping to roll the map back up with his paws, gently grabbing it with his maw.

“Simple,” Twilight grinned, it looking more like a snarl, “We take those bastards down,”

[punkinspice]

Omg you just reminded me- I had a short spell in my early teens where I wasn’t really keeping up with sonic stuff and thought I’d “grown out of it” until one day I was super bored and trying to find something to watch so I clicked on game grumps play through of sonic and the black knight cause it was one of the few games I never watched the cutscenes to as a kid and that made me get fully back into sonic and I’ve been stuck here ever since

Good to know I’m not the only one who at least partially owes the sonic brain rot to game grumps of all people 😩

OMG THAT'S SO GREAT

Glad to know I'm not the only one out here who got into/back into Sonic via the Grumps, especially when it was during their most vitriolic time against Sonic. Oh the irony 😂

but for real, it's been kind of wholesome watching them slowly start to genuinely like Sonic over the years, and I can't wait for them to play Shadow Generations, it's gonna be so good

[ultimaid]

no ur right about people playing games wrong bc ive managed to have my friends get into danganronpa so we can play v3 together because game grumps is playing danganronpa. thing is because its so long they dont do any freetime events w the characters & also dont walk anywhere

i’m watching their playthrough and they are trying to do the free time events, but they’re not getting gifts and don’t seem to understand that they’re skipping over content by doing so. i’m just holding out hope that a member of their crew tells them.

them fast traveling everywhere also drives me up the wall. get the optional dialogue and increase your level!!! aaaaahhhh!!!

[echovale052]

so I have three characters in mind for the ask game, no 1 carol >:)

Oh this is gonna be mad goofy, all of them are but you mean our short girlboss that has given me brainrot for what will almost have been a year in July 💀💀

My first impression

SPOOKED, episode 5 made me sit up so fast I hit my head on my ceiling, but her first episode had me shaking ngl

My impression now

She needs like 18 naps a day (me too), but they keep waking her up. LET HER BE🤦/lh girl bossing is tiring and I need her to chill out. I can’t fix her but a hug and a few therapy sessions certainly can’t make her worse- even if she’d tried to insist it would.

Favorite thing about that character

UGH where do I begin!! (/pos) Her sense of humor fr is really good when she ain’t grumping. *hair tuck* I meannnnn she’s forward fs 👀 and I’m kinda dense so…

Spoilers for the corollary under the cut

Least favorite thing

Carol is so mean to the anima and her subordinates(namely conservator)- I mean babe we know why but most of them are nice to you and for why. She lost in the sauce-

Favorite line/scene

Favorite scene: Where she Infiltrated woodhull she so sneaky for that I was holding my breath (gotta love Margot for her part in that episode though)

Favorite line: “i don’t know figure it out that’s your job.” (Speaking to conservator) she’s so real for that 🙏💀

Favorite interaction that character has had with another

Her interactions with annex are so fun omg but seeing her get schooled by the eminence was so silly to me /pos 😭💀

A character that I wish that character would interact with more

Neighbor!!! Omg but hell give Lori a spatula/knife/shovel whatever and let em beef I’d be CACKLING

Another character from another fandom that reminds me of that character

I’m trying to think of another character that isn’t Miranda Priestly from the Devil Wears Prada but they do be vibing at least

A head-canon I have about that character

She is aware of fanfiction (which is canon see Ep5) I think she’s read a good few… but I guarantee you if she’s aware of that she’d be aware of my silly ass, I’d be on some MIST watch list or some shit.

A song that reminds me of that character

IM GONNA SOUND WILD FOR IT but- snuff out the light from the emperor’s new groove sung by eartha kitt OR Ill and getting worse by rosegarden funeral party they are purely vibes not exactly lyrics but ✨she✨

An unpopular opinion I have about that character

I don’t know I feel like I can pretty much are with a bunch of stuff, maybe gaslighting people ain’t attractive Carol- but as much as I love seeing her girlboss, I cannot take her seriously /nm she’s just goofy to me. 😭💀💛

Favorite picture

I am so normal about her and annex-

[specialagentlokitty]

Thomas Barrow x Teen!reader - routine annoyance

Saw you were wanting Thomas Barrow Ideas so I was wondering if you could do one where Thomas meets teen Reader who isn't afraid of him and will try to get him to be fun? - Anon💜

Bounding down the stairs you rushed into the servants dining hall and you happily stood in front of the brooding man.

“Thomas.” You beamed.

“We’re not doing this (Y/N).” He said.

“Oh come on! Please!?”

“No.”

He looked up from the paper he was reading and turned back to reading.

“Please!?”

“I said no.” He snapped.

You laughed a little and everyone looked at you confused.

“You are amused by his short temper?” Mr Bates asked.

“(Y/N) enjoys trying to get Thomas to play games and have fun, Thomas does not like to take part in these games.” Mrs Hughes said.

You grinned a little at her and she looked at you.

“Shouldn’t you be working?” Mr Carson asked.

“I finished all of my work Mr Carson, I want Thomas to play chess with me!”

“And it is not happening stop pestering me I’m getting sick of this.”

He stood up and walked away and you grinned a little more, amused by his temper.

“He does not scare you?” Mr Bates asked.

“No, he has a short temper he’s, but he is nothing more than harsh words, Thomas would never hurt me.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him.” William said.

You rolled your eyes at him.

“You’re just angry because he doesn’t like you for some reason.”

“He doesn’t like you much either does he?”

You grinned a little.

“No.”

Setting you chess board on the table, you looked at Mr Bates.

“Will you play chess with me Mr Bates.”

“I’m afraid I haven’t play chess before.”

“I can teach you!”

Your shenanigans provided entertainment for the servants, every evening you would work up Thomas, bugging him with your requests.

And tonight was no different.

“Will you come outside with me Thomas?”

“It’s raining.”

“I know! At home I used to play and dance in the rain all the time! Please Thomas!”

“Stop pestering.” He said.

You looked around making sure the hall was empty and you took his book from his hands and he glared at you.

“Didn’t your parents teach you not to snatch?!”

He reached over and took the books back from you, and you frowned a little bit.

Thomas noticed this small frown, and you quickly smiled again.

“It’s not snatching if I was going to give it back.” You beamed.

He sighed, setting the book down he lit a cigarette as he stared at you.

“Why do you pester me so?”

You laughed a little, smiling brightly at him.

“Because I know somewhere, deep down inside that rude, cruel exterior, there is a kind soul.”

“You are clueless aren’t you?”

“I know there is a little good in everybody, someone just has to bring it out.”

Thomas just scoffed at you and shook his head.

“I will tell you one more time (Y/N), stop pestering me. I am getting fed up with you now.”

“No you’re not.”

“I am.”

You shook your head.

“Well, I’m going out in the rain, so if you’re going to be a big grump you can be.”

You grinned at him and happily wondered out back, and Thomas watched you leave and shook his head.

Why you made it your mission to pester him was beyond him, you never hounded anyone else like you hounded him.

From the moment you stepped foot in Downton you had began to pester him like there was no tomorrow and it was beginning to get in his nerves.

No matter what he did, how many times he snapped or walked away from you, you always found a way to harass him again.

When Thomas noticed you hadn’t come inside, he slowly made his way out the back and he lit another cigarette, watching you just stand there in the rain.

He said nothing, and you didn’t seem to notice.

He could see your face, blank, void of emotion.

You seemed lost deep in thought.

Flicking his cigarette, he walked back inside.

When the chill hit your bones you finally made your way back inside with a smile on your face, and you found some towels laid on the table.

You took them upstairs to your room, dried yourself off and made your way back downstairs.

Most of the other servants had gone to bed, and you made your way back downstairs and looked around, sitting at the piano.

No one knew you did this, and you would most certainly be thrown to the dogs if they ever found out since only William played on this piano.

But you loved it.

So you sat there and happily played your favourite tune.

You were halfway through when you heard a chair being dragged across.

“You’ll be in trouble if Carson finds out.”

You jumped, and spun around, grinning from ear to ear.

“Thomas!”

You quickly moved over to sit next to him.

“Why are you awake? It’s late.”

“Your racket is preventing me from sleeping.”

“Does this mean we can play games?”

“No.”

You pouted a little.

“Awh Thomas please!”

He shook his head and you looked at quietly for a few moments.

“I heard you volunteered to be a medic for the army?”

“Yes. I leave at the end of the month.”

You looked at him.

“You’ll come back, right?”

Thomas smirked at you, looking up from his paper.

“Do you worry for me?”

“Of course! I worry for everyone who will be affected by the war.”

Thomas hummed his head, nodding a little.

“At least I’ll be away from your constant pestering.”

You grinned at that comment.

And you pestered him twice as much up until the day that he was going you stood in front of him, and you walked over.

You held out your chessboard to him.

“Will you take this? To give you something to do?”

“Why?”

You grinned at him.

“Because I’ll mail it to you if you don’t.”

Thomas sighed, taking it he put it under his arm.

“Fine, but I’d it gets lost that is not my issue.”

You beamed brightly up at him.

“I’ll miss you Thomas.”

“You’ll find someone new to pester.”

With that, he turned around and left.

And the downstairs seemed a lot quieter without your pestering, you sometimes ask others to play the games with you.

But it wasn’t the same as running around with Thomas, annoying him and bugging him.

It wasn’t the same without his snarky and snippy comments, and you missed it.

And everyone could see how much you missed it.

And Thomas, on the front lines, had to admit he missed it.

He kept your chessboard with him, but he had never opened it until today.

And he saw a slip of paper. So, he opened it, and he saw your messy handwriting.

‘Will you play games when you come back?’

He chuckled a little, taking a drink from his cup as he set the note back down.

“Is that the one who was always begging you to play games?”

Thomas looked up, stood up and saluted.

“Yes, it is. (Y/N), a very peculiar teenager with a strange fascination with me.”

Matthew chuckled a little bit.

“People grow fond of people, perhaps your a similar to someone (Y/N) knows.”

Thomas shrugged a little.

“Maybe so, who knows. Never did get a response when I asked why.”

They talked for a little while, and when he was left alone, Thomas just thought about everything.

You had grown used to not pestering anyone, and you had grown used to a more quiet routine, but you didn’t like it, not one bit.

So you spent a lot of your free time stood outside. Reading, playing games by yourself or just thinking.

And since today was your day off, it was one of those days.

You were just admiring the sunset light touching everything and casting it all in a gentle orange glow.

You sighed a little, and looked up, and you froze.

Looking down at you was the cold and unemotional eyes of the man you hadn’t seen in a long while.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you so quiet.”

You quickly stood up and turned around, looking up at him with a bright and wide smile on your face.

“Thomas!”

“That’s sergeant Barrow to you now.”

You grinned at him, practically bouncing with excitement.

“Can we play a game now?!”

Thomas pulled a hand from behind his back and held out your chessboard for you and you quickly took it.

“No.”

“Oh please!”

“No.”

You grinned at him.

“I missed you Thomas.”

You smiled at him and hugged him tightly, and he just stood there a frown on his face.

Letting go, you ducked around him.

“I’ll find you later and ask again!”

“Don’t you even think about it (Y/N)!”

You grinned at him and laughed running away, and everyone smiled hearing your mischievous laughter through the hallway

[monaisme]

Sicktember: Day 19

#19- Hypochondriac Tendencies

Something was off. Tony was sure of it.

Yes, he’d been working on repairs to the Mark 48 before the next Avengers emergency, and trying to troubleshoot the issues with the new Starkphone for R&D, and figure out how to tweak the graphic card for their latest gaming computer simply because Peter thought it was so cool, and yes, he’d been hunched over a workbench for the better part of four hours, but this felt different.

He cast a quick glance at his wrist, intent on checking his vitals one more time via his watch, but the screen showed nothing but the time. 1:17pm.  

“What the hell, FRIDAY?” Tony called out as he pulled off the watch. “What’s this?”

“It would appear to be your most current incarnation of the Starkwatch, Boss.”

Tony exhaled slowly. He would forever regret the personality algorithms he’d slaved over for FRI. “Alright, smartass, if we’re going to play the game, my watch has stopped transmitting my stats. Do me a solid and run a diagnostic on it, would you?”

If Tony hadn’t known better, he’d have sworn there was an uncomfortable pause.

“I’m sorry, Boss.” FRIDAY replied. “Your watch is completely functional. Ms. Potts has reimplemented the “Tony Is Trying To Make Stuff Up To Get Out of Another Board Meeting” protocol and has locked down your health tracker until further notice.”

Tony scowled. “Again? I swear—I never should’ve given her that kind of access.” he grumped. “And what kind of shit name for a protocol is that anyways?”

“It’s the name Ms. Potts provided, sir.”

“I know,” he rolled his eyes and squeezed the back of his neck with his hand to provide some relief. “Just—I thought I was doing better. How long am I locked out for this time?”

“Ms. Potts has specified that the lockout run a full forty-eight hour period, sir.”

“And how many times did I actually check to deserve this?” He was almost afraid to find out.

“You’ve accessed your pulse, blood pressure, and heart rate monitor fifteen times since you entered your lab at 9:57am, sir. That, coupled with meetings set in your calendar, triggered an automatic denial of access per the protocol and Ms. Potts has been notified.”

“Perfect.” Tony bit out as he picked up a screwdriver from his workbench and whipped it across the room and into a table of scrap parts Peter would usually scavenge through for his projects. It was very seldom that he lost control like that, but sometimes Pepper wouldn’t listen and... “I keep trying to explain—!” Tony started then stopped before starting again, “I mean, what happens if I decide to have a stroke and die during the lockout?” Not that Tony expected something like that to happen, but the frustration at her lack of understanding was almost too much. He was sure she’d understood when he’d first told her, instead—

“Boss. There is a recorded message that I have been instructed to play in the event that you do trigger this particular protocol. Would you like the audio version or—”

Tony paused, then realized what FRIDAY had just said, “Hang on. What do you mean, ‘this particular protocol?’ Are there more?”

“Yes, Boss. There are three other protocols in play—”

“Nope!” Tony waved his hands in air, basically shutting FRIDAY up. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m done. But I swear, FRI, if something happens, on your head be it.”

“As you wish, thought it should be noted that you did not provide me with a head, Boss, and I’ve queued the audio clip. Would you like me to play it for you now?”

Tony dropped his head in defeat. “Sure thing, just keep the volume reeeeeal low, okay?”

“Understood.” FRIDAY replied. “And, if this is any comfort to you, in the event that you do lose consciousness anywhere on Stark Industries property, I can notify emergency medical personnel immediately.”

“Gee, that makes me feel so much better,” Tony snarked. “Or I could just, you know, have access to a vital feature on my own personal device.”

“I’m afraid you’ll need to discuss that with Ms. Potts.” FRIDAY stated as a matter of fact. “But while the audio message is playing, I am also to remind you that your presence is required in Ms. Potts’ office at two o’clock this afternoon for a progress check-in with the various team leaders for the Research and Development Department.”

Tony glanced over to his work bench and the projects screaming for completion. “Perfect.”

“As well, today is ‘lab day’ and Mr. Parker is expected to arrive at the tower at four o’clock.  Would you like me to place your standard pizza delivery at an appropriate hour, or would you prefer for Mr. Parker to choose something when he arrives this afternoon?”

Tony perked up immediately at the mention of his favourite teenager.  “Is it Tuesday already? Hot damn! Maybe I’ll be able to force myself to get through this meeting after all! Four o’clock, you said?”

“Yes, Boss.”

“An end to this miserable day is in sight! Yes! And I think I’m feeling a little cheeseburgery today. Why don’t you order something for us from that little diner Pete’s scary friend likes instead of pizza? Grab an extra couple of orders of fries and a chocolate milkshake so he can dip ‘em like the weirdo he is, too. Got it?”

“Got it, Boss.”

Tony glanced at his near useless watch. 1:33pm. There was just enough time to deal with the Starkphone before Pepper jumped down his throat again.

And at least there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

/-/-/

While he wasn’t one hundred percent positive, Tony was pretty sure he was dying. All he had to do was keep upright in the elevator, get back to the lab and breathe a little and hopefully things would settle like they had the last time Tony’d had a—

Nope.

Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropists did not have—

The elevator door opened and he stumbled out, loosening his tie and taking off his sunglasses as he approached the door. He pressed a thumb to the biometric scanner and almost wept when he heard the lock disengage. He could make his way across the lab to the couch, lie down for a bit, try to figure out how he could make the laundry list of impossible tasks that the R&D folks were demanding of him happen even though he was the freakin’ boss while also figuring out how to manage his Avengers tasks as the decidedly not-boss and then let his body figure out how in the ever lovin’ hell it was supposed to draw in oxygen again.

“Mr. Stark?”

“Shit!” Tony clutched his chest as he flinched and lost his balance as he threw himself back into the workbench he’d been set at only hours before and knocking the components of his Mark 48 onto the floor. The clatter had Peter ducking for cover while covering his ears against the crash.

It registered a beat too late.

Peter. 

He couldn’t be here. He couldn’t see Tony—not like this!

But it was too late. Peter knew.

The boy approached his mentor tentatively. “Uh, Mr. Stark? Are you okay?”

And wasn’t that the question of the hour?

Tony fumbled with the sunglasses still in his hand, trying to put them on but gave it up when he realized his hands were shaking too much. Instead, he simply plastered on his ‘Tony Stark Media Star’ smile and stuffed his hands in his suit jacket pockets. “I’m fine,” he answered in a totally convincing, not weird at all sort of way.

“Are you sure?” Peter gave Tony a once over. “You’re looking a little—funny?”

“Ouch,” Tony patted his chest, played up to the bit, “way to get me right here, kid. I’ll have you know I’ve been on People’s ‘Sexiest’ list for twelve years running.”

“Be serious, Mr. Stark.” Peter stared, unimpressed.

“Bigger ouch. Tough crowd.”

Peter crossed his arms and waited for an explanation, and when none came, he spoke up again. “I know you think it’s creepy when I do this, and I’m really sorry about it, but, uh, your heart rate is sorta’ fast. Have you had Ms. FRIDAY scan you yet today?”

Tony’s faux-grin dropped and he shook his head, ‘no.’ “What do you mean exactly?” Of course his heart was racing, but what if Peter had heard something else?

Peter shrugged, “I’m not sure what I’m hearing, Mr. Stark,” Peter replied. “Ms. FRIDAY?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Parker. I am unable to access the protocols necessary to do as you’ve requested. I could suggest bringing Boss up to the med bay for evaluation if you are concerned.”

Peter didn’t bother to ask why the AI couldn’t do something she was more than capable of on any other occasion. And Peter knew Mr. Stark well enough that he would not appreciate being dragged all over the tower and risk being seen. No way. But Mr. Stark needed help and Peter was apparently the only one who could offer it.

He scanned the lab, looking for anything. The AED was sitting prominently on the wall next to the wash station, but that wouldn’t do them any good. And the first-aid kit was stocked to the gills with anything one would want or need for burns, bruises, stitches, and anything else that a little gauze and tape could patch up, but this?

And then his eyes fell on his backpack. “Got it!” he exclaimed, and then Peter was across the room, tossing textbooks and notebooks out of the bag and onto the floor so he could grab his mask and put it on.

“What? What are you--?” Tony panted out as he gave up on pretending.

Peter tugged up the sleeve of his sweatshirt and fussed with his own official Stark brand wristwatch for a few seconds before it came off then pressed it to Tony’s wrist. “Karen, can you take a comprehensive reading for me, please? Tell me what we’re dealin’ with?”

Tony almost sagged in relief. Such a clever boy.

Tony couldn’t hear her reply. “Of course, Peter.”   

The two stood awkwardly together while Peter listened to Karen’s diagnostic results and then Peter offered a, “Thanks, Karen,” then put his watch back on and pulled off the mask.

Tony was still trying to get his breathing under control.

Peter waited a second before he said anything, and then blurted out, “Did you know that butterflies can taste with their feet, Mr. Stark?”

Tony blinked, played back what the kid had said in his head and then blinked again. “What?”

“Yeah, they use something called chemoreceptors. Apparently it helps them identify plants.” Peter said, completely sincere in his offering. “Cool, huh?”

Tony thought about it before he drew in a bigger breath and answered back, “I guess so?”

“And owls don’t have eyeballs—they have eye tubes.”

Tony just shook his head. “That sounds kinda’ gross, kid. I call bullshit.”

Peter paused for a second and shrugged. “Maybe? MJ had us all looking up weird animal facts in the cafeteria at lunch today and there was a list. Now that I think about it, I should be doing a better about confirming stuff like that before spreading it around.” Peter tossed his mask over to the backpack where the rest of his suit was hiding, then pulled his phone out. “Wanna check on the owls while I do the butterflies?”

Tony didn’t have the energy to do much else. “Sure.” At least his hands weren’t shaking as much when he pulled his own phone out.

They made their way the few steps to the couch and sat in what had fast become their designated ends and became absorbed in their tasks. Not that it took long for them to find what they’d been looking for.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Tony muttered. “Eye tubes are apparently a thing?”

Peter popped his phone back into his pocket, “And so are tasting feet. Nature is weird.”

“Agreed. I’ll take metal and tech over eye tubes any day of the week.”

 And then neither of them said anything... until Peter broke the silence a few minutes later.

“Do we need to run a diagnostic on Ms. FRIDAY, tonight?” he finally asked. “I mean, she should have caught that, right?”

Tony sighed and let out a long, slow breath. “FRIDAY is working just fine, kiddo.” Tony put an arm around Peter’s shoulder to reassure him and leaned back into the couch. “I imagine Pepper got a little frustrated with my insanity and figured she needed to shut me and my hypochondriac tendencies down.”

Peter had to process that for a second. “Uh, but you literally just needed FRIDAY and you couldn’t access her? Wouldn’t that mean that she’s actually trying to kill you?”

Tony barked out a laugh. “No, Pete. I’m pretty sure she’s just pissed off, though we’ll definitely need to have a chat about adjusting some parameters, I think.”

They got quiet again, and then, “Well, pissed off or not, that wasn’t very kind of her.” Peter slapped a hand over his mouth as he expressed an opinion he had no business in holding.

“It’s okay, Roo. Right now, I don’t disagree.” Tony closed his eyes as he melted further back. Panic attacks took a lot out of him. “But I can understand where she’s coming from, I guess. I have a job to do—and it’s not like I haven’t given her reasons to get irritated with my ‘behaviour’ in the past.”

Peter didn’t look impressed. “If she loves you, it shouldn’t matter.”

This kid was too pure. “Nah,” Tony opened his eyes and tilted his head to look over at him. “Even I can agree that I’m a little much sometimes... and by a little, I mean even my parents didn’t really like me so I’ll take what I can get when I can.” Tony chuckled at his own joke.

“Mr. Stark!” The indignance on Peter’s face, that someone couldn’t love their own child. “No way! I don’t believe you! And even if I did believe you, that doesn’t justify—”

Tony put a hand up to halt the tirade he was working up to. “Kid, you’ve read the biography, right?”

Peter nodded, ‘yes.’

“So you know Pep has been dealing with my crazy for a long time. First, the palladium poisoning,” he started. “Granted, I was hiding the fact that I was technically dying from everyone but I’d been so diligent about tracking saturation points and trying to find a balance with my diet and anything else I could think of.” Tony huffed a laugh, “You know, it’s actually one of the reasons the Starkwatch was so ahead of the competitors when we’d first released it. I’d already done all the field testing for myself. Using it to buff up or tech marketing was a no brainer, and Pepper was happy.”

“But—”

“Peter.” Tony cut him off yet again. “It’s okay. I haven’t even gotten started about these damned panic attacks.”

Peter did not think any of this was okay. He chewed at the inside of his cheek, obviously thinking of what he was going to say next.

That it bothered Peter so much bothered Tony more than he’d thought it could. “It’s really, well... I’m fine now—and this is all stuff for the grownups to deal with anyways.”

Peter glared. “I’m fifteen,” his cheeks flushed, “and I know what it’s like to be scared for reasons that make sense and still make no sense at all.”

Tony saw that this wasn’t sitting well with Peter, and he was working himself up to say something important, so Tony bit his tongue.

Peter Benjamin Parker had the floor.

“When I was little, I had a really hard time after my parents died.” Peter blurted out. “Like, a ‘I wouldn’t leave May or Uncle Ben because I was afraid they’d die if they left my sight’ kind of hard time.” His eyes widened in his own panic as he realized what he’d just blurted out.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Tony said softly, sitting forward to give the kid his full attention now that he could draw a full breath.

“Yeah, thanks,” Peter almost brushed the condolences off. “But there’s more. You see, Aunt May had a nurse friend who’d been gifted a new stethoscope by her family. Aunt May had told her friend about me and what was goin’ on, and between the two of ‘em, they came up with a plan. The friend gave Aunt May her old stethoscope for me to use, so I could double check that everyone I worried about was okay whenever I was scared.”

Tony’s heart melted a little. This poor kid. “Peter.”

But Peter shook his head to stop him and shrugged. “It’s okay now, I promise.” He said it in such a way that Tony wondered if it wasn’t really, but Peter kept going, “I’m just thinkin’ what it would have been like if someone decided that I was being dumb and needed to be done checking on everyone before I was ready to stop on my own, is all. So I get it.”

Huh.

“Besides, panic attacks are no joke, and maybe Ms. FRIDAY would have caught it earlier if you were being monitored?”

 He wasn’t wrong.

“Just—It bugs me that it happened, and I’m sorry that someone did that to you, and I’m especially glad I could loan you my stethoscope today.” Peter bumped into his mentor affectionately. “Have I mentioned how much I love my steth—I mean AI lately?”

And Tony’s heart swelled at the sincere affection.

... Maybe it was time to have a different kind of conversation with Pepper?

FRIDAY broke the moment when she spoke up, “Boss, your dinner delivery has just arrived in the lobby. Would you like me to have someone from security bring it up to you?”

Tony heaved what must have been his millionth sigh. “Yeah, FRI, thanks,” and then he looked over to Peter. “Wanna check out that graphics card I was telling you about after dinner?”