#On second thoughts both men should explode actually

[deafknell]

If you took a random 10 minute section of both Joshua and Otto's lives and viewed it as an outside observer, what is the probability that Otto would appear as the more pathetic man?

My gut was saying Otto easily, but thinking about it? Equally difficult to tell.

Joshua's internal monologue is extremely depressing. He spends every second berating himself and critiquing the people around him all because of his lack of self worth. Since he's alone a lot of the time, those thoughts can range from just being the ultimate hater to being the most miserable man around. In that regard, he's pretty pathetic, in how he's so openly hostile to Subaru and implicitly hostile to Reinhard over their treatment of his brother. He's got codependency issues up to his neck with how he tries to raise Julius to live a life Joshua couldn't.

This posts gonna be a long one, bear with. Arc 8 spoilers (up to c24) under the cut.

He's so fixated on Julius being perfect for his role it shatters him that they're not in sync. The whole debate about his role of head of house sticks with me heavily. "It was exactly that, handed over. Never stolen." The clinginess Joshua has with Julius is immense. The only thing that really offsets it is, well, he gets to know a wide range of people through him. Tivey and Hetaro are his closest friends, while he's fond of people like Mimi, Ricardo, Cecilus, and Schult. He's able to spend time playing with the triplets in the garden without being as controlling over what Julius does by the time canon rolls around.

Even for people he's not fond of, like Anastasia, Joshua's the one who pushes Julius to go after her when he fucks up and upsets her. He's the one who takes up a sword for the first time in 10 years to protect her because it's what Julius would want, even though he's terrified and weak and thinks she's an awful influence on him. Joshua grows up a lot between his obsession as a child to his obsession now, both in how he handles Julius with others and in how he is by himself. So while he's very much a pathetic person, there's a number of times he's actually... respectable, given his awful circumstances.

It makes me wonder how messed up his dynamic with Julius would be if they never met Reinhard when he was 9.

Otto, on the other hand... He's a lot more put together on the surface. You disrespect Julius to Joshua, he'll be foaming at the mouth, but you disrespect Subaru to Otto? It's not as obvious stepping over that landmine. In terms of situations, though, Otto's a lot more pathetic to me when you compare the two and their dynamics with the others.

Comparatively, Otto's had a far more nuanced upbringing than Joshua. His parents are so sweet, and his family's generally supportive of him, despite everything. He's struggled with his DP and later with Diadora and Russell's shit, where Joshua's just been plagued with ill health and a very warped family dynamic for years. They're somewhat direct opposites in how they're brought up in that regard.

By the time he meets Subaru and eventually joins the Emilia camp, he's been through some awful stuff. Frufoo's a massive pillar of support but in terms of healthy communication with people? He's been drinking at the bar regularly, which is a pretty telling sign of how things are for him. His attachment comes on quick, as people like Pluto have spoken about in their ottoposting (which I would highly recommend!!) from writing a suicide note over deciding to help Subaru all the way to making himself almost indispensible to the camp, despite telling everybody his plans of leaving and running his own store.

Joshua's fixation on Julius comes out of a mix of resentment, survival mechanisms and genuine loneliness, I feel. He's so afraid of being left behind that he tries to make himself integral to Julius, and I think part of that is also reflected in Otto's behaviour to the camp. How he asks all of them if they're worried about him over and over because he wants to feel wanted. Subaru gives him that, leaves him plenty of room to just, latch on and it feeds massively into his own issues of self worth and loneliness.

Don't get me started on how poorly he reacts in arc 8 when that closeness is indirectly (contrary to Otto's own belief) challenged by Julius. How quick he is to lash out and paint him as an outsider, that this does not involve him when it very clearly affects Julius the same as everyone else there. Julius and Emilia's light, able to believe that people are fundamentally good, where Otto nips at Subaru's heels like a lingering shadow.

Both Otto and Joshua are extremely pathetic people. They'll lash out at people, barking at whatever hand comes near them, and then project that rage unto themselves before the thought of talking their problems out dawns on them. I think between them, 10 minutes with Joshua would be a lot more tame for me, if solely down to me being much more fond of Julius praise than Subaru praise. Though sitting through 10 minutes of self hatred vs 10 minutes of whatever's going on in Otto's head is enough to drive anybody insane.

If nothing else, at least Joshua didn't make me read this line with my own two eyes:

[r3leee]

wild heart

HEY CHAT!!! guess who’s backkk 😎 so uh there’s absolutely ZERO towa content on this app and i know my girlies are hungry so this is what we’re doing now!!! take it or leave it

pairing: towa bird x fem!bsf!reader

summary: you’re falling messily, horribly, sappily, all around in love with your best friend, towa. thinking she doesn’t feel the same, you stay quiet. little do you know, you should have higher expectations…

warnings: RPF!! don’t like, don’t read, friends to lovers, kind of slow burn?, cursing, established towa and reader crushes (KISS ALREADY, MY GOD), reader likes/liked men at some point, really just fluff

word count: 2900, should take about 22 minutes to read (whoops)

listen to: wild heart by towa bird

“you say i got a reckless streak in my snakeskin boots and levi’s jeans”

YOU’D ONLY MET her a few months ago, but if you knew anything about towa bird, it was that she was an absolute ladykiller.

“how do you do it?” you remember asking her over coffee. towa finished her sip, looking at you with a puzzled expression.

“do what? sip my coffee?” you snickered.

“no. have so many girls fawn over you.” a look of realization came on her face. in response, she just shrugged.

“i don’t know.”

“what do you mean?! there’s gotta be something,” you said, shocked. all she did was laugh and shake her head.

“charm? don’t know what you want me to say.”

the moment you met, she had actually just gotten broken up with by her most recent ex. you remember that day so clearly; how you both ran into each other on the sidewalk, the coffee stain on your shirt, how she apologized so fast you thought she’d explode out of fear.

she insisted she give you her number, take you out for lunch sometime soon as an apology. you thought she was cute.

turns out, the real towa was just hiding under her misery. she was funny, jarring, bold.

and you didn’t know why, but every time she showed up at your apartment after a night out, or you two were out in the city and she told you about the amazing girl she’d met the night before, you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. not even just that; hurt. jealous.

there was no reason to even be as upset as you were; really, they never lasted.

towa would show up at a party, get drunk, find some girl, they’d fuck, then a few different things could happen: towa would forget to ask the girl’s number, the girl would have a boyfriend (ouch), the girl would barely remember the night before, etc.

the most charming part of it all, though? she’d regain her composure so quick, it was almost like nothing happened. you admired it, even celebrated a little when it happened. even if it was bad, you wanted her, and that’s something you couldn’t deny.

“i think you got a wicked smile, and those angel eyes with timeless style”

even if you didn’t know it, those feelings were mutual. heavily.

honestly, towa didn’t even know why she still did this. this constant cycle of fuck, forget, repeat. well she did know why she was doing it, but she hated the reason.

she wanted you. all of you. she had a good sense of detecting crushes, and the second she felt her heart pang looking at you, she knew she was a goner.

the day she knew she liked you, you were at the beach. the both of you went together with some friends. while towa was swimming in the ocean, you had just wanted to tan. you looked gorgeous, laying on your back, reading a book you specifically curated for that day.

but your beauty wasn’t stopping her from getting you in the water.

towa had told one of her friends in the water with her she'd be back in a second as she stepped out and onto the shoreline. she pulled her hair out of her eyes as she glanced at you, eyes fixed on your book. she smiled unconsciously at it.

once she walked over to the umbrella the group was at, the group greeted her. she said hi back before leaning down to your level. "you should get in the ocean," she mumbled.

"mm," you scrunched your face. "it's cold."

"and it's hot out here. come ooooooon," she whined, almost similar to a kid being refused dessert. it made you giggle.

"towa, i love you, but i'm just not feeling it." she sighed, shaking her head and standing back up.

"alright, fine." she glanced at you one more time, pretending to walk away, before she quickly snatched the book out of your hands, dropped it on the sand, and picked you up.

your friends laughed as you shrieked, laughing a bit too. she slung you over her shoulder, walking as fast as she could to the sea as you pleaded her to stop, both of you laughing so hard your stomachs hurt.

once she was in deep enough, she threw you into the cold sea. you screamed as you fell, but quickly regained your composure to splash towa in the face with salt water.

the way you laughed, how your wet hair looked, and how your gorgeous eyes reflected in the sunlight told her enough to know she was gaining a silly, high-school crush on you.

“i could smoke you out for fun in my leather vest. i love you 'til the death, you’re a bullet in my chest”

surprisingly, you had no idea towa even did music until a while after you met. you were at her apartment for dinner, when you asked, “what do you do for work?”

she’d mentioned needing to do stuff for her job a few times, but never exactly what she did.

when she told you, you were shocked. “why didn’t you tell me?! that’s so fucking cool!” you exclaimed.

“cause i don’t think it’s that good!”

that night, you looked her up on spotify and listened to her full discography, even if it wasn’t the biggest. you had no idea how she could think it wasn’t good. it was amazing.

against her wishes, you were there, front row at her next show. she was playing a festival and you stood at the front of the stage for three hours before she came on.

you caught her eyes almost immediately. a small smile spread on her face and she softly shook her head, quickly continuing the song.

when you looked at her outfit, you were taken aback. she was wearing a new leather vest you’d never seen with a long-sleeve black shirt, her usual levi’s jeans, and her usual jewelry. but it was her shoes. these snakeskin boots. you gave them to her for her birthday and she’d never worn them until today. you thought she didn’t like them.

after the show, she led you backstage. she was laying back on a couch, sweaty, gulping from a water bottle you brought her. you nervously tapped your hands on your thigh. “you did great.”

she finished gulping, wiping her mouth. “thank you. it wasn’t my best show, though. kind of embarrassed you saw that.”

“i thought it was great.”

“i messed up a bit, though.”

“i didn’t even notice,” you reassured. she sighed.

“you sure?”

“100%.” she let the topic go, nodding her head. you sat in awkward silence for a second. the tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. “you’re wearing the boots.” she glanced down at them.

“oh, ya.”

“thought you didn’t like them.”

“no, i do, it’s just…didn’t have a good time to wear them. until today. thought they’d look good with the outfit.”

you nodded in understanding. “i mean, they do look good. but boots? on stage?

“mm, wasn’t thinking. just thought it looked nice,” she lied. truth was, she wanted a reminder of you to be on her, no matter the pain. you just shook your head.

“fuckin’ dumbass. you look nice, though.”

“awwww, thanks, darling,” she teased, suddenly leaning over to kiss your cheek.

this was a banter you two had; acting like a couple jokingly. anyone with eyes could see it wasn’t casual for either of you, but you two were just oblivious and doubtful.

you smiled and blushed. “of course, honey,” you said through a giggle. she patted your thigh, kicking off her shoes.

“come on, let’s get you home.”

the next morning, videos of the performance scattered the internet. there was one particular video you saw: it was when she noticed you in the crowd. the text read “OMFG DOES SHE HAVE A GF??? WHO IS SHE LOOKING AT LIKE THAT WHATTTT”

the whole rest of the day, you were smiling and giggly, happy someone thought you two were more than just friends.

little did you know, towa had seen the same video and felt the same exact way.

“oh you, i can’t believe that you could tame my wild, wild heart”

even if crushes weren't that unusual for towa, this was to a new extreme. you were always somehow there, in the back of her mind.

when she was trying to go to bed, when she was watching a movie you mentioned you liked once, when she had any time to herself, her thoughts always drifted to you. it was eating her alive.

suddenly, to your surprise, the nights she spent out decreased. she started to take care of herself more, becoming less hungover and more energetic.

you two hung out more, making it almost a weekly ritual to meet up for dinner at one of your apartments. you would either cook or order dinner, catch up on the latest gossip, and laugh as the warm glow of the kitchen lights illuminated your faces.

you both always wanted to reach out, feel the other's skin on their palm. but you never did. you both opted for scooting a bit closer when the other wasn't looking and hoped that was enough. it made towa’s heart pound and she didn't know why.

you were making her crazy.

"i'm pretty quick, shoot from the hip with words that whip, but i'm in your grip"

it didn't take long for her to tell you how she felt. that's kind of just how towa was; quick. just like a stereotypical lesbian.

you always teased her about it, saying you'd never agree to go as fast as she did. and you always believed that. until it happened to you.

the two of you were having breakfast at a restaurant (towa paying for part of losing a bet.) you were just chatting and cracking jokes, like usual.

you took a bite of your food, but after you swallowed, you noticed your best friend staring at your face. "what? did my makeup smear?" she just laughed and shook her head.

all of a sudden, she was leaning over the table. "got a bit of food right...here." she wiped the bit of crumbs away with her thumb. she could feel your skin heat up under her fingertip, and honestly, she couldn't blame you; she would've been doing the same.

in fact, she was doing the same as she finished off with a soft "there" and sat back down.

what followed was an awkward silence as you both looked everywhere except the other's face. you looked back down and tried to start eating again, but there was an undeniable lump in your throat.

you heard a soft laugh from the end of the table. "you're cute when you do that." you almost choked.

"i'm sorry?"

"you heard me," she stated, taking a sip of her juice before continuing. "you're cute."

you didn't know how to respond, just sitting with your mouth hung wide open. "uh- thank yo-"

"do you wanna go out?" she cut you off. again, a few seconds passed. "like, uh, you know, to just, like, a museum or something...later...like, in a few days."

"as friends?"

"as whatever you want it to be."

that was all the clarity you needed. you immediately said yes.

"throw your lasso, come and catch me, babe. i'm indiana jones, you're my last crusade"

you weren’t sure if the museum counted as a date. you absolutely wanted it to, but the whole event was a little friendly.

you just walked around like you two normally would with anything, albeit a little awkwardness. she offered you to stay the night at her place, and of course, you couldn’t turn that down.

the both of you ended up on her couch, you in her clothes, watching indiana jones. “it’s for nostalgia,” towa had told you.

after being out in the chilly winter air, you and towa were wrapped in one of her blankets. she only had one, since the others were in the wash, so you had to share.

the contact was killing you; you could barely pay attention to the movie. every time towa moved to make herself more comfortable you felt shock waves through your body. it was almost kind of pathetic.

she noticed this but didn't say anything, simply continuing the tease the shit out of you.

at a certain point, she spoke, causing you to jump. “you know, if they were hot enough, i’d let somebody betray me and send me down into that firey pit of hell any time they wanted." you were confused.

"what?"

"i mean, if they were hot enough." you snorted.

"seriously? that's like, a death wish!"

"okay, imagine the hottest person in the world. if you let them do anything to you for a chance of them liking you back, would you?" you thought for a second.

"no."

"bullshit! fucking bullshit," she exclaimed.

you just rolled your eyes, defending yourself. but, when you thought about it that night, you realized you maybe would've let towa do that. maybe.

"gravel in my throat and sweetness on my tongue. this ain't my first rodeo, my bad, i should have known."

when the two of you were going out, before you were officially "girlfriends," towa was trying to gauge you. when you two were together, walking down the street or looking at clothes, she'd ask you "do you like this shiny material, or like, soft?" "okay, i know you think her hair makes her hot, but is there anything else there? at all?" "do you think he's funny?" to a comedian on tv.

you barely even noticed the sudden questioning since it was so spaced out. i mean, she did things like this constantly. she always wanted to get to know you better.

but, since you started going out, her questions turned from funny and lighthearted to trying to figure out if a certain pair of pants would make you like her more. she just wanted to be perfect for you, even if she already was in your head.

as time went on, the questions started to get more and more obvious she wanted to set a precedent of what you liked. which was what led to surprising news to her.

you two were sitting on a park bench after a walk. taking a sip of water from your water bottle, you looked around. towa examined your face, smiling at its natural beauty. your eyes darting around were angelic to her. "you said you had a relationship in college?"

you turned to face her. "ya?"

"what was she like?"

"oh...uh, it was a guy..."

"oh." she sat for a second. "really?"

"really."

"have you ever been with another girl, then?" you shook your head. "woah." she had to process that for a second. in her head, you were kissing girls left and right in your younger years, but you weren't. "so like...when did you find out you liked girls?"

you recalled the memory in your head. "a few years back. i don't know, i just saw two girls kissing on the subway and i was like, 'i kinda want that,' y'know?" she nodded.

"have you ever been kissed by a girl?" okay, this conversation was taking a huge turn. you quickly shook your head.

"i mean, no, but i always thought it'd be...kinda nice..." you trailed off.

all of a sudden, she was scooting closer to you. "come here," she mumbled, before quickly adding, "if you want to, of course."

"yes," you replied too quick. she smiled and cupped your cheek in her hand. then her lips were on yours and it was beautiful.

it was only for a quick second, but when she pulled away, she had a bit of your lip gloss on her lips and they were so soft, you were spiraling. "you want anoth-"

you didn't even let her finish before you went back in. she giggled into the kiss, keeping her hand on your cheek.

“the open road is the loneliest, come ride by my side into the sunset”

it took months to get to this point, but here you were; on a picnic on a date in the city, staring off into the sunset. your head was on towa’s shoulder as you stared off at the sky, full of vibrant oranges and pinks.

her hand was unconsciously stroking your hair, admiring with you. “hey,” she mumbled. you looked up at her.

“hm?”

“so, uh…i know we’ve kind of like, been going out for a while now…” oh my god. was this it?

“i was just…meaning to ask you if you’d maybe want to like…be my girlfriend?” you were so happy you thought you could explode. when you didn’t respond within a couple seconds, she quickly added “and totally not to like, rush you or anything, i was just won-”

you quickly shut her up by pressing your lips to hers. when you pulled away, you said “towa, oh my god, yes.”

her cheeks were softly tinted red as she fell back on the blanket. “okay! good, i thought you’d say yes, i just wasn’t sure-”

you quickly leaned down to kiss her again. “you ramble when you’re nervous,” you teased with a smile.

“shut up.”

[oval3000]

Final Chapter.

"Hello"

Simon Riley x Reader

Not my art! Not my characters!

After defeating Makorav, Simon went back home to enjoy his night rest. The next day he heard noises outside his apartment. When he went to see who was making those noises, by peaking through the eye hole on his door, he saw you. He never thought you would change his life forever.

!WARNING ⚠️  Terrible grammer, past abuse, abuse, ptsd, trauma, swearing, Obsession, Possessive,Gore, death,boring story. Different story plot then the game (Makorav dead)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

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"Sweetheart? Are you alright?" You heard Simon knocking on the bathroom door. You got up from the toilet, flushing the vomit you released. He opened the door, seeing you wash your face and rinse your mouth with mouthwash.

"Yes, I think I ate something bad. Maybe food poison?" You sat back down on the closed toilet seat.

He bend down to your eye level. "You've been sick this past week. I'll pick something up from the drug store. Why don't you go back to bed and rest."

You laid down and quickly went back to sleep. You've been feeling sick and tired lately. It was honestly alarming you. Alarming because you know Simon won't risk to bring you to the doctor and get an actual check up. He trust you. Enough to let you roam around the house. Not enough for you to go out in public. Not because he thinks you're going to escape. Oh no, he already achieved his goal. His dream. You love him. You both shared love and intimacy, he knows you love him. Is just....he worked hard killing those who got in his way to get to you. He would hate if a curious police officer talk to you and we all know they roam freely in hospitals.

He glanced all over the shelves where all the different types of pills a person might need. Picking each one to examine it.

He looked over after hearing a men's voice, who's talking through the phone. "Just tell her to take a pregnancy test, she's probably pregnant, knowing her it won't be surprising."

Simon placed the bottle back on the shelf and went to the women's aisle.

He picked a few boxes...and some prenatuals.

-------------------------------------------------------

You were cutting up some vegetables ready to throw to the pot. You felt a pair of arms hugging around your waist.

Your felt his palm on your belly. Your swollen belly.

You're at the night month mark of your pregnancy, ready to pop any second. "You should be resting, love."

"I'm hungry." You felt his lips on your neck.

"I could make food for you. I could take care of you. Let me help you."

You are uncomfortable. Didn't know pregnancy was this hard and...painful.

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"AAH! AAAH! IT HURTS SIMON."

"I know I know. You have to push love you have to."

"I can't! It hurts! Simon I'm gonna die!"

"YOU ARE NOT GOING TO DIE! You're gonna be fine."

Such a fool. Can't take you to the doctor cause he's afraid. Afraid of someone taking you away from him, you leaving him. His paranoia got to him and is causing you harm.

They call him Ghost. That's his name. That's who he is. He's Ghost.

Ghost is what he is and Ghost is how he looks like seeing a puddle of blood down between your legs.

His pale face matching his mask. His throat felt so dry it was hard to swallow. His hands began to shake. He's not a doctor. Not really familiar with pregnancy. Even after purchasing all those books to help him guide you through this, he can't think clearly.

He can't-

"Simon! I can't push. It hurts so much!" Your looked at him, sweat dripping down your face your heavy eyes wanting to close up.

You heart pounding so hard and fast it feels like it's going to explode.

"I- I...I'm so sorry love." He came to you cupping your face with his shaky hands. He's been through torture, so much torture. This was his last. He kissed you deeply. Leaving trails of kisses all over you face. "I'm so sorry please forgive me. Please. Please"

You couldn't understand, you didn't have any energy left. Well only when you felt your hands tied up to the bed and a piece of cloth shoved in your mouth.

Your felt life flash before your eyes as you let out a muffle scream you felt a sharp pain going through your body..through your belly.

This was it. You were gonna die

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Soap got out of his vehicle. After getting a distress call from Simon, he knew something was wrong.

He was right. Seeing Simon sitting down on the front porch carrying an infant baby with his bloody hands.

Soap called out to him. To get his attention, but all Simon could do is to stare and the baby boy in his arms.

Soap entered the house and made his way down to the bedroom, following the bloody footprints of Simon's shoe. He saw you. Your lifeless body tied to the bed. Your belly cut wide open. Blood all over the sheets and floor.

"Simon what happened!? Simon!?"

Simon did loose you he lost you. After a everything. After trying to protect you and to help you with everything. He actually lost you.

He killed you

You were his new neighbor. A stranger and now you're dead.

Soap stood back.

Hearing Simon letting out a small laugh, cradling the infant baby turning into a crying laughter.

His tortured never ended, this was it.

[samioli]

I humbly ask for your NaruMitsu headcanons. Please

OOOOH man. this is hard to think on the spot but ill try my best! SFW headcanons:

-Phoenix is Bi. He also experimented with larry in college, you cannot convince me otherwise fdsnjkdsf

-Miles is gay (in my mind) and also demisexual!

-phoenix has ADHD and BPD, Miles is autistic

-Miles either makes too little eye contact or too MUCH eye contact. no in between

-Miles may pretend to be indifferent, but he LOVESSSS phoenix's scruffy look during the 7yg. finds it v hot and wants to stim on his stubble

sorry i cannot think of anymore sfw headcanons JNDFKJNDSFJK

NSFW Headcanons

-I think they're switches, but I think Miles leans more into being submissive of the two of them. Just my opinion! and i think he can def be dominant, especially if phoenix wants that.

-going off of that, i think it takes time for him to be comfortable with that too. In my head, he's tried to hook up with other men in the past, but he always felt sick to his stomach when trying. He thought for a while if he was in control that would help, and i think part of him def wants to be in control when he's with strangers, but once he's with phoenix he learns that he can start to let go of some of that control in a safe, loving environment. and eventually he's like putty in phoenix's hands

-Once Miles and Phoenix start dating, miles at this point thinks he's asexual and "warns" phoenix, bc he's concerned it might be a dealbreaker. phoenix totally understands, tells him they never have to have sex if that was what was comfortable for miles, that he loves Miles as a person. miles is so smitten with this man

-Phoenix often checks in with Miles during like kissing and everything if its all okay, and one day when they're making out, Phoenix pulls back and asks him if he's okay--Phoenix with his hair a lil messy and his checks flushed and lips swollen. and miles is like. oh

-He feels himself actually WANTING to touch phoenix and make him look even MORE disheveled and he's just SO overwhelmed but in a GOOD way and he WANTs

i think it goes down like this:

Phoenix: "U-Uh, Miles? Should we, uh--hnghh--sl-slow down, or…?" Miles stops for a moment: "Would you like to stop?" Phoenix, sheepish: "W-Well, no, but what about you? Isn't this--?" Miles: "Wright. I'm quite certain if you do not take your trousers off right this second, I will surely explode." Phoenix: Phoenix, internally: ᴏʜ ᴍʏ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ɢᴏᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛs sᴏ ʜᴏᴛ

-once thats out in the open, miles is fucking KINKY. and a horndog. me and sapphirewine have joked that they're just going at it over and over again until phoenix runs dry bc miles is insatiable now that he feels like this

-miles def has some like, fantasy kinks. micro/macro. unrelastic kinks like that. cum jar who said that

-and phoenix is just a pure freak he's like YEAH SURE!!! WHAT ELSE!!!!! YOU WANNA BE THE NAUGHTY YEAST TO MY BAKER?

-they are so weird and i love them for it

-it gets to the point where its like they always "yes and" each other during sex. this is both good and bad. good bc they're in a loving relationship where they can trust each other and they're very similar with their kinks so they bond over that. Bad in the sense that they be having sex roleplay where, as sapph said once, "spilled milk on aisle 6 and grocery store employee" they'll somehow do it. i believe in them.

-they have very few limits i feel

-again. both good and bad dkfjndjksfn

my brain is getting sleepy so ill end it here but i hope you enjoyed my rambling!

[elenatria]

I'm wondering about something one is which is your favorite Alexenk scene in the Tetris movie? Mine is when both enhanced the Tetris, it really felt like they thought alike or having the same mind. Also, I noticed when Alexey had to push Henk away before saving his life, he mostly avoided eye contact while asking him to stay away. It seems that he's fearing about seeing him because it could break his heart further.

Aaah so many scenes to choose from. There's the "I'm not for sale" scene where "someone" is playing hard to get 😏. Then there's the "Pascal or Assembler?" dinner scene where Alexey, with his unblinking eyes glued on Henk, begins to say "the power of Basic" nanoseconds before Henk does, literally reading his mind.

And Henk stares back at him widening his eyes as if he just met Elvis.

Alexey smiles back: he found his kindred spirit. His soulmate.

My second (or third) favourite scene is the one you described. They like each other too much to let their egos prevail, however it's always a struggle for both men to let the other "win".

Henk starts off with a compliment, trying to get that total stranger to warm up to him.

Next thing you know, he wants to put his hands on "The Original", how dare he play with Alexey's favourite toy?

His body language is so telling: he wants to be on top of things. On top of Alexey.

It takes Alexey a good few seconds to give Henk his seat, a thing he doesn't do wholeheartedly. But have you ever tried to say no to an American? Nievazmozhna.

Guess what: Alexey is not the only genius in the room. Henk's novel idea hits Alexey right where it hurts, in his well-burried ego. Look at the triumphant grin slapped across Henk's face: the Russian Master is finally acknowledging his genius too.

"We should allow up to four lines to disappear at once". Oh look, Henk is already thinking in "we" terms, what's next, appropriating Alexey's precious brain child??

Henk gracefully dismisses him by pretending he misunderstood the reason behind Alexey's cocked eyebrows. "C'mon it's a brilliant idea, doesn't matter who thought of it".

Then it's Alexey's turn to remind Henk who's the boss here, tapping him on the back to get his seat back.

Check out Alexey's hand resting on his thigh as well as his burning stare: you want this seat, baby? You're gonna have to sit on this first.

And then Henk interrupts his thoughts-again- but Alexey's like "Bitch please, I know what I'm doing."

But then... wait for it... Success! We did this together.

There's something warmer in Alexey's eyes now: admiration. It will turn into utter fascination in my other favourite scene, the Party.

And what's a budding friendship (or should I say romance) without The-First-Time-They-Touch part? Henk rocks Alexey back and forth like he wants to feel the strength and volume of this man under his arms. I'm sure this won't be the last time he does that. 👀

As for the second part of your ask, well, I never thought of that! (I said that in Alexey's accent, you can tell). It's... brilliant actually.

See, in my mind Alexey was avoiding eye contact because, like the traumatized brainwashed puppet he had become in that scene, he was reciting from memory the "poem" the KGB had taught him. "Say that to the American, drive him away and we will harm you and your family no longer." They're even watching him, making sure he's an obedient little soldier.

But then you're right: there's a change, Alexey is not avoiding Henk's eyes anymore, he means every word. He feels vulnerable, betrayed.

The KGB convinced him that the American cares only for his own profit, that he's going to trick him. His life has already been affected by Henk's behaviour: he lost his apartment and his job. What's the next thing the American wants to take, his heart? Oh, that's the one thing Alexey won't let him have.

So he finally explodes.

Now it's Alexey talking, not the KGB: he doesn't believe in Henk anymore. He doesn't believe in anyone.

Henk freezes because... because he's heard that phrase before.

In another place, in another life, Akemi told him the exact same thing: "Is that a promise you can keep?"

Funny how the screenwriter chose to put the words of Henk's wife in Alexey's lips, right? As if in Henk's mind Akemi and Alexey are one. Even their names sound similar. Keep in mind that in Russian Alexey is pronounced Ale-XE-E-y, not A-LE-xi like Henk keeps calling him. Just a thought.

"We come from different worlds": dear анон, it's too late, Alexey is already hurt, his red eyes are brimming with tears.

Can Henk keep his promise?

Alexey finds that hard to believe.

It costs him too much to believe.

[chaoticly-shy-dragon]

After almost two years of war, Obi-Wan knew the chances of him making it out alive were low. He wasn't infallible, he wasn't unbeatable and with every campaign and every mission, bone-deep exhaustion plagued his every moment. That didn't mean Obi-Wan didn't hope. Hope that the war would end soon. Hope that he would be there when Ahsoka was knighted. Hope for a better future. Obi-Wan should have known those dreams weren't feasible. He had just never thought Anakin wouldn't be there with him as they fall apart. His padawan had so much to live for - Ahsoka, his men. Senator Amidala. He didn't deserve to have his life cut short so soon. None of them did. (His men were fighting for their lives on the ground; the whole mission had turned out to be an elaborate trap and oh Force, they were being slaughtered and where was Obi-Wan when they needed him–) Obi-Wan oft thought of himself as a realist, an idealist even. In actuality, he was a liar. And the person he lied most to was himself. As he crouched before his padawanchildbrother Anakin's fallen body, the Jedi Master couldn't help but wonder. Had there even been a future to look forward to? What was the point? The redhead shook off the intrusive thoughts, unwelcome and desolating as they were. This was not the time or place for such laments. As unfair and unwelcome as their situation was, Obi-Wan couldn't help but be grateful that they had left Ahsoka with the men on the ground. The thought both reassured him and very much did not. How similar to her Master, the Togruta turned out to be. (Obi-Wan hoped his men were fine, that his grand-padawan was fine. It was a pipe dream - they were at war after all - but it was one that didn't perish no matter how often it was proved wrong.) Obi-Wan heaved for breath, sweat running down his temple. One would wonder how they ended up here. In the middle of a battle, the two of them separated from their troops. They had successfully hijacked the Separatist dreadnought, which intelligence believed to be holding the captured diplomats when everything went sideways. And oh Force, how sideways it went. The information turned out to be a complete hoax. They had been ambushed by three squads of droids the moment they entered the prison brig. They had barely made it out before another squad joined the fray. After that, everything was a blur of running and fighting and even more running. And then - in the mids of it all - something had exploded. The strength of the explosion had sent them flying, the heat of the blast blistering the skin of his exposed neck. Obi-Wan's ears had rung and spots had invaded his vision as he skidded to a stop. The hall before them had filled with droids in the seconds it took him to regain his bearings. Anakin had had less luck than him. He had been by the corner when the blast reached him, throwing him into the nearby wall like a rag doll on stims. He was now lying a few feet away from Obi-Wan, unconscious, burnt and probably bleeding from the shrapnel wounds covering his body. The Force around him felt drowsy and his presence was threaded with a dull throbbing of pain. If Anakin was anything it was being frighteningly capable of hiding his pain. (Leftover from his past, a tiny part of his brain chanted as it always did when Anakin's mental stability was brought up. Shut up, he shushed it sternly. He didn't need any more distractions, his attention was already divided between the worry for his padawan and the droids that were trying to blast him to bits–) He twisted out of the way of a blaster bolt, raising his lightsaber just in time to stop another. They were forced into a literal corner and the droids didn't. stop. coming. There was no space for his usual acrobatics, no space to escape the deadly barrage. There was no space to simply breathe. Had Obi-Wan not been a master of compartmentalizing releasing his feelings into the Force, he would have been rendered completely useless by the bubbling panic in his gut. (He might have been a Jedi first but a liar came a close second.) Alarms rang through the air as the Jedi Master's eyes jumped from one advancing droid to another. His lightsaber thrummed in his hands, a blur of light creating an impenetrable barrier between the duo and their attackers. (No medevac would be spared even if Obi-Wan could call for one. And he couldn't. They were being swarmed before the droids received the orders for a suicide run. Before the kriffing pieces of scrap turned off the gravity and opened fire with the heavy artillery. They were on a ship outside atmo for Force's sake, there was no escaping this one–) Truth be told, Obi-Wan wasn't that better off than his former student. His energy was waning with every passing second and his muscles screamed in protest with every move. His guard was slipping; the only reason he hadn't dropped it completely was the dwindling warmth at the back of his head. (There was something truly terrifying in the fact he could tell it was dwindling. Not dimed, but dying-?!) Until the backlash of the broken bond hit him, Obi-Wan would hold the line. The redhead only wished the droids would stop coming. That way the task wouldn't appear so monumental. He didn't have the time to breathe, much less try and remove both Anakin and himself from this thrice-damned hallway. The less said about Anakin's state the better. (How Obi-Wan wished they could escape- that Anakin could escape, that his padawan would survive- but he had been prodding the bond every few seconds and all he could feel was the fuzziness of unconsciousness muddled with the pain, plaguing the younger man's body. It was a searing sensation, paralyzing any rational thought that might have traveled through the needle-wide bond. At one point even hope had to die in the face of reality.) Then something faded, something broke. A bolt passed through Obi-Wan's guard striking him between the ribs. Another followed. And another. There was a certain emptiness in his head. One less bright spot in the web of stars he was connected to. He felt like it should have been a nova - devastating in its destruction, but it wasn't. There were no black holes or white dwarfs left behind. The star was gone, taking with it the light that should have outlived him. ("Let go," whispered a voice almost as well-known to his psyche as his own. "Master, it's over, let go." And how Obi-Wan wished he could - but his padawan was lying behind him more dead than alive and he was not moving.) There was frantic energy humming beneath his skin, pushing him forward. He ignored it. ("I'm dead, old man," the voice choked around the words, the familiar fake smile obvious in his words. And the quirks he could hear, the expression Obi-Wan could imagine plastered on sun-kissed skin, almost brought the Jedi Master to his knees, because wasn't that the truth? "There is no saving me now. Let me go." The beloved voice was begging, where it had never done so before and wasn't that criminal? Obi-Wan Kenobi could bring despair even to those residing in the Force. He should put that in his file - it would surely endear him to the senators even more. If he lived to share the tale that is. "I'm dead. Let me go. Isn't that what you always tell me? Let go.") Obi-Wan's body took more bolts than the man deflected, and with every passing moment, the droids came closer to him them. The strange abundance of power dwindled as if muted by his own growing despair. There was something splintered in his mind. Obi-Wan decidedly didn't acknowledge it. (A small part of him did - his padawan was dead. He couldn't feel Anakin anymore. The last pieces of their bond were gone - erased from his mind as if the golden, unbreakable thread hadn't been Obi-Wan's lifeline. All that was left of it was ash and soul-wrenching pain.) (Everything was numb and distant. He was losing too much blood. And everything was too quiet. There was no blood-curdling scream, no never-ending cry of pure agony. The Force was silent. Obi-Wan wished he had the energy not to be.) And then, after several torturous moments, during which the Jedi's mind tried and failed to mitigate the psychic damage, Obi-Wan faltered. He failed to raise his lightsaber fast enough. Obi-Wan couldn't stop the blaster bolt before it hit him in the chest. Whatever power had been holding him upright vanished, leaving the Jedi Master to crumble to the floor. (It burned- oh, Force it burned- It was a moment and an eternity- An end, a definite end-) Obi-Wan Kenobi died. (That was how the 'great' Kenobi fell - not by the hand of another sentient being but to that of a droid programmed to advance until destruction- What a pity. It lacked a great deal of irony and had too little tragedy. What a pity indeed‐) He died. His body fell next to that of Anakin Skywalker, who had died mere minutes earlier. There would be no one to close their eyes seeing as the dreadnought they were on was already sailing nose down toward the ground. Days would have passed before their remains were found amidst the crash, buried among half-melted metal and twisted machinery. That was an end. Not the end perhaps, but an end nonetheless. It continued like this. Anakin Skywalker woke up.

this is the beginning of my force ghost au that I wanted to do; I am a sucker for whump and I wanted to see if I could write death scenes - the results are yet to be determined

Part 1 of hopefully more? we’ll see

[orangedodge]

My second impression, I guess, was that Sins of Sinister is trying to be both focused very tightly on a small handful of key characters, while also being massively broad, universal, in scope such that it touches absolutely everyone. When this story was being relayed purely through the perspectives of Destiny, and Sinister himself, that was completely ok. Any "but what about..." questions could be dismissed as not important enough for our narrators to mention.

But now that it's taking over Immortal X-Men for three months, and is crossing over with Red and Legion, I think there's a more obvious tension with trying to actually fit the cast of that book into a story that wasn't really made for all of them.

We're told that the four compromised Quiet Council members - Charles, Bennet, Hope, Emma - are still the same people they have always been. It's early, and anything could change or be recontextualized later, but their own impression seems to be that their memories and personalities are fully intact, and Sinister is not controlling them. So it seems to be some kind chemical change at work, altering their disposition or inhibitions, and possibly they're not as inclined to resist if Sinister is gently nudging them along. And he seems to confirm this himself, that he left them with free will and their personalities in place, though later issues could always say he misjudged, and less of their real selves survive than they like to think.

But if that's all true, it seems like things escalated very quickly to them being on board with his world domination plot. With Charles, okay, fair enough, he's been susceptible to this kind of thing before. And Hope is still new to all of this, and Exodus is an unreformed supervillain whose goals have only coincidentally become aligned with the X-Men (though I would have thought he'd still think Sinister's plan is stupid as hell, and just leave him in the Pit).

But Emma has already dealt, many times, with intrusive malevolent forces taking control, or seeking to hollow her out from within. Emma is already well accustomed to acting in opposition to the impulses of her worst self. She has a support system, that she sought out herself over many years, to check her if she starts to backslide.

(Without even getting into any of the weird metaphysical stuff at play: she's a psychic, she has a hive mind with her daughters, at least half of the time her brain is made of diamond)

I would have liked to see her's be a slow, gradual descent, if she needed to go through this at all, worn down as everything crumbles around her anyway. But as it stands, the story seems like it just needs her to be evil right now in order to work.

It's unfortunately a very clumsy way of capping off her journey from where she began in the Dark Phoenix Saga, to where she's come in recent years, all of which should inform how she responds to being infected. And it's particularly jarring because of the clash in tone from issue to issue. When Sinister assassinated her, it was presented as slapstick. Exploding Xavier brains! Evil communion wafers! The art carried it, and the idiocy of that chain of events could be excused because it was there to make readers laugh at his clownery.

But Immortal X-Men no. 9 is no longer just an irreverent comedy, it is now also the inciting incident that transforms Emma into a genocidal evil queen. I do not really believe that those two concepts are suitable for grafting together within the same story. I suppose anything is open to good execution, but this transition happened very quickly. It doesn't seem to have taken more than a few hours within the story.

That's why I think the story is trying to be much too broad for it's focus. I would have liked to take more time with only Xavier, or only Hope, at first and chart a slow conquest. Secondary characters like Emma could either be gradually worn down, as part of the background world building, or could just peace out from the story entirely to give more space to the more central figures.

And when we introduce so many side characters, it begs too much clarification on what is actually going on with each of them. Sinister implies that it was the Quiet Council alone who kept their personalities, but some of them needed to present themselves in public and pass scrutiny. Could the the Council have changed the plan once they were in charge of infecting others, and loosened up control? And was it the whole Council who were excluded, or just the original four? Were Illyana, Hank, and Namor included when they joined? There's also a question of who Charles is just outright mind controlling, or perhaps editing with Cerebro. And every character at play has their own idiosyncrasies to their personal circumstances.

I would assume based on what we know right now, and knowing that we only have three months to get through a complete story, that only the original four both kept their personalities, and also escaped being constantly controlled by Charles. Because otherwise it gets weird. Colossus is already being mind controlled by his brother, who would not be in favor of Sinister ruling Earth, so I think that would fall apart if he'd been left with any autonomy. Namor had to manage to pass as himself to Doom, but also needed to not kill Charles and take over as soon as he was done. Magik has dealt with being Darkchylde for most of her life, and it seems not-very likely that being a Sinister would be harder to resist and overcome than being the Hellgod of Limbo was. (I would say the same for Kate and all the weird brainwashing and corruption stuff in her history, but Immortal X-Men's contempt for her is evident enough that I think we're just meant to assume she was killed and mind controlled immediately, to cut down on needing to write her. I will say though that it's already making for a very weird reading experience, having X-Treme X-Men overlap completely with Sins of Sinister as scheduled)

It could and should be elaborated on in the future, because knowing whether or not people like Magik, Exodus, or Namor have free will and are still open to reason is vital to understanding the stakes of the conflict. But having rocketed past the first ten years of Sinister's conquest in just a single issue, instead of drawing it out more, I think this inevitably feels very rushed one way or another. This could be a matter of personal preference, but I think it's always better to just exclude characters from a story, if they would get in the way of telling it, than to alter them so that they behave as it needs.

And it's not a bad story! I do recommend it as a continuation of what was already the best Destiny story we've ever had. And it's setting up Ororo to have a very good story of her own in the three Brotherhood issues. But it's a shame that so many other characters are only there to be there. I think it compares a bit unfavorably with Judgment Day, which was just very well motivated. Even if you didn't want to read about Marvel Earth bring judged by one of its gods, every character, and not only the main stars, got to behave as their own problems and social pressures dictated.

[swanmaids]

Feanor for the character game 👀

Thank you! I honestly don't have as many Feanor thoughts as I probably should, but let's see...

1: sexuality headcanon

Mostly attracted to women, but has had a few experiences with men when he was an apprentice smith. 2: otp

Nerdanel! I really really how much they compliment each other and how much they don't, how much they love each other and how much it's not enough. And the divorce was iconic <3 3: brotp

His failbrotherhood with Fingolfin <3 4: notp

Anything that involves bashing Nerdanel. 5: first headcanon that pops into my head

Actually got on quite well with Olwe during the noontime of Valinor. 6: favorite line from this character

The one about his & his sons deeds living on in song because uh. they sure did 7: one way in which I relate to this character

I don't really. We're both eldest children I guess. 8: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character

exploding to death was pretty cringe 9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

Problematic.

[pimento-playing-hopscotch]

“Napoleon’s Battle Plan” the twenty third episode of the first season of Sports Night, is the best episode of the show in my opinion for these scattered reasons…

One of Dan’s first lines in the episode: “We’re grown men with important jobs who are standing in our underwear. Let’s sing a song”.

Dan wondering if there are people in the building across the street who can see them in their underwear.

When told that Casey and Dan don’t have their pants, Dana asks if there was an industrial accident that claimed the lives of both their pants.

The show showing it can be dated AF that when Dana couldn’t sleep she studied a catalogue… is there anything more 90s than a catalogue

“You cracking wise with me now?” Dan has so many good lines this episode

Casey, detailing the titular battle plan of Napoleon’s: “First we show up. Then we see what happens”

Dan: That was his plan?….. Against the Russian army?”

Casey: Yep.

Dan:….. Almost hard to believe that he lost”. Bwahahahahaha

Dan being adorable pestering Casey to talk to Dana.

Casey protests that it isn’t the manly thing to do to tell Dana- Dan suggests “then do it in a deep voice” in the most POUTY way possible.

The split second between when Dan tells Natalie about Sally and Gordon and Natalie running out of the room to tell Dana.

Dana is wayyyyy too calm upon being told that Gordon slept with Sally. Even Dana muses she wouldn’t think that she would be this calm.

Could that be because Gordon is the worst and Dana doesn’t even want to marry him a little bit.

Cause seriously Gordon is the worst.

And the first thing he asks is if Casey told her.

Did I mention that Gordon is the worst-

And as a general rule, don’t ever preface something with “this part is funny, actually” or anything that sounds like that. It’s pretty much guaranteed the other person will not find it funny.

“It would never happen when we were married”. Really words that should accompany any proposal.

DANA AND SALLY’s CONFRONTATION.

IT IS SO GOOD.

Because Sally is absolutely right- it IS none of Dana’s business if Casey and Sally are doing the do. Gordon is another story but Casey is none of her business.

And the best part- Dana realizes this! While Sally is telling her off, Dana says out loud that Sally is right and Dana is embarrassed for herself for confronting Sally like this.

Sally looks confused for a moment like she’s wondering if this might be a trick. And she in a very gentle way says what Dana desperately needs to hear: Dana isn’t upset, or really cares that Sally slept with Gordon. No, Dana cares that Sally slept with Casey.

This episode and the Ordnance Tactics did a good job of making Sally more than just a leggy siren.

Cause it’s hard not to tell feel for Sally when she matter of factly states that the man she’s been sleeping with for two months doesn’t care for her, and she is aware of this.

Seriously this scene is so good all the way through- just outstanding writing and acting from Felicity and Brenda.

It has dawned on Dan that telling Natalie wasn’t the best idea.

Not just because Natalie went and told Dana, but because now it’s come out about Casey and Sally in addition to Sally and Gordon.

To quote Miss Chanandler Bong- can open, worms, everywhere!

And Casey does not know about ANY OF THIS.

He has been mercifully unaware, behind the closed doors of his and Dan’s office, working away.

Dan is the meme of the little kid who is waking up his parents to tell them he threw up here.

There are a lot of times in the show where Dan seems like the little brother, never more so than when he fills Casey in, which is so amazing once again I need to transcribe it.

“Casey: You told Dana?!

Dan: I told Natalie. Natalie told Dana.

Casey: Oh, boy! Who would’ve thought!

Dan: Dana told Gordon, Dana told Sally. Of course, Sally already knew-“

Dan is such a cute dork I love that he adds of course Sally already knew… and then comes my least favorite line of the episode.

Casey explodes, “you’re a woman, you know that? I’m gonna stick you under a hair dryer!”

Like really Aaron Sorkin? You nailed it with the Dana/Sally talk and then make this stupid ass joke- what does this even mean?

Dana and then Casey both kicking Dan out of the office.

Elliot and Kim telling Casey they’d like to hear his tawdry tales later as he and Dana walk through the newsroom.

The heartbreak Dana packs into “Sally… Sally?”

Casey’s wry observation of “you’re a lot of fun to share an office with today, you know that?” When Dan mentions this time it’s his fault that he and Casey are without pants.

Dan: (as he and Casey walk through the newsroom without pants) Those are nice boxers.

Casey: Shut up.

And Casey’s plan has come to fruition. They showed up- now they’ll see what happens.

Technically, an anchor is a job you could do pantless- you sit behind a desk the whole time.

I really hope this was readable, whenever I rewatch Sports Night this is the episode I’m always most excited to get to- I usually rewind the scene where Dan admits everything to Casey a few times lol.

[jonathankatwhatever]

It continues to be 11 Sept 2023. I was just overcome by childbirth imagery, with the words pick this baby up so it opens those lungs and cries.

How do I get there? Big step this morning? Elliptics are the specific of that which is contained to express to be confined, which I clearly do not yet get. That is: when there’s a complete enclosure, what is the relationship between that and the ‘future’ space, to that which occurs to the right of the yK? My mind says it’s like you take that and open it up and release it to the right. Which is the way of saying: here’s the results which come from that, because here’s the pathways which come from that, and - this is difficult to get out - those pathways produce these results, which allows them to be front loaded so you can see them. This is another version of the same D-structure issue in which we take a step to an End and add CR, meaning End+CR form, with that repeating to End+CR+End+CR, though I also see this as the expansion of the stack in which each CR hides an End. This means each listing of End or CR is really a layer in a stack at that location and in stacks which accumulate this location, up to all stacks associated.

Okay. I agree with the description. Now what? Each of the second Ends has specific Pathways which generate them. And the same is true if we add another End to the string, so we can see how each step along the chain of Ends develops the constraints into which the Pathways can construct. The way this works is beautiful: constructing a likely Pathway invokes construction of unlikely Pathways because those associate as Nots, as parity checks to those Pathways which make up Is, which I think we can define as the large meaning for Things in existence, whether for an individual Thing or a group of Things or a universe of Things. An Is is obviously very complicated, and that means we need to approach it using a large variety of tools - that is the actual value in diversity, btw, the perspective on problems - and now I have to take a detour.

Been rewatching Mad Men a few episodes a night. The part which explodes in my head is the way this could be a positive story instead. An example hit me as I was watching Megan deal with her father’s attitude, her desires to act, that she doesn’t want to be kept, and to that I match a Don who actually wants to be happy and who treats this as a problem to solve. That led me first to him saying she should work part-time because then she’d find the stimulation from both, and she wouldn’t feel like she was pulled by money into a lifestyle she didn’t earn. Makes sense if you want a positive message. But then I thought: Don tells her it took him years to learn to think about advertising as an entire campaign, so why not make her assistant creative director? Then she could do exactly what she’s good at, which is figuring out the role, the character, the part that the product plays like it’s a living actor.

That highlights the difference between this and Peter Pan: once that boy became Peter, he could only be Peter. It’s non-Abelian, very much like the SBE of the patriarchs and matriarchs: the SBE of that completes actual generations, and it does so in a way that expands the meaning. You can look at this in animals: a herd will have a male or two. The chickens we eat tend to be the unnecessary males. How does that occur? If you generate the identity concept over a generation, so there’s that middle, that 1 in the 0-1-0, then you K at the last End so it becomes 2 Ends. Those Ends count to 7, but with a caveat or distinction: Leah came first but Rachel was desired first, so the order is mixed to indicate that you can’t really say which came first, which signals this is a count to the inner edge of 7, which fits the Hexagonal. Matches the old joke about 6 being afraid of 7 too.

Non-Abelian here is clear: if you count to the End and get Rachel, then isn’t the same Pathway as to Leah. So you can’t run back and forth and get the same answer each time. You’ll get a distribution that reflects each iteration of who comes first. Maybe you can never get out of that choice. Like it can’t be Betty or Veronica. Note this translates technically to having ambiguous inverses. Interesting phrasing appears: this kind of chain that expands at one End has ambiguous identity that selects. It’s a metaphor for any Extent that K’s.

—————

Short break. When something this intense is occurring, I hear a version of you talking directly to me. And I realized words in context example is dumbass after you realize you were a dumbass and you’re reminded of this affectionately and in a shared sense, meaning to some type of Alternation which fits. Interesting how Alternation completely revives the Wheel conception of rational numbers, and that storing information in the Wheel counts becomes the other forms, including transcendentals.

So, if I sum up where I am with my inability to grasp, it would be that I didn’t get until a second ago that yes this is a balancing, literally over the = sign, of the 2 essential orthogonal concepts in grid squares, so the yK square is exactly that a yKSquare, and that this perspective represents in projection in the elliptic form. That took forever to reach.

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson fighting for the readers attention and love, possibly with two different endings for each?

I thought it was a really cool concept and who better than you to make it happen!

This is....I love it.

Warnings: mentions of sex and drugs, swearing, spicy shit, overall slowburn between both relationships.

Word Count: 6,100 words guys. 6.1k. This is 6.1k. I think this was actually worth the wait lmao.

READ THE FOLLOWING A/N.

A/n: I'll post this and see what you guys think. In the comments PLEASE PLEAS PLEASE let me know if I should write the Eddie ending or Steve ending first. Also this is non-canon.

It's not that often where the two men that I'm in love with, and have been in love with, both have feelings for me. I spent weeks, months, crying over the thought of having to choose between them, knowing I would end up hurting one of them over the other. And I just couldn't fathom leading them on or hurting them, so, Dustin Henderson of all people came up with the idea that they would 'duel' over me.

The agreement was simple in the beginning.

Eddie was immediately happy, it completely peaked his interest and was right up his alley when it comes to winning over women. But Steve was confused. Of course he wanted to fight for me but he didn't physically want to fight, especially with his track record of getting the shit beat out of him.

So, Dustin laid out the plans.

Both of them would have a week to give it all they had. They weren't allowed to kiss me or make any physical, sexual, advances and they could only use their words to win me over- their stellar personalities. And at first, I thought that it was going to be easy, that one of them would stick out to me more and have better boyfriend material but fuck.

They're both just-

Perfect. They're perfect, wholesome, attractive, sensitive; everything.

And that's what makes it so hard.

Day 1:

My eyes pick a spot on my ceiling of my car, my mind trying to distract myself as I buck up the courage to go inside, knowing the kids are waiting for me. Twenty minutes late isn't a good look on me, especially when I've taken over as babysitter of the group, taking the boys back and forth from Hellfire Club whenever they needed.

But with the ongoing 'duel' and Eddie being revved up inside, awaiting my arrival- I'm not going to lie, it terrifies me. It's as if I'm seeing him in a new light now that he's gone above and beyond trying to get my attention since the moment I woke up. First it was the flowers on my front step, a small note with a smiley face on it, immediately making my heart explode with excitement. Second, it was the call I got about an hour and a half later, making sure I got the flowers and loved them 'as much as he thought I would'.

I never thought I was a flower type of person but apparently I am.

But, it was odd, because its radio silence on the Harrington side today.

There's been no calls, no impromptu visits or gifts. He's been relatively quiet which is weird considering who he is. Knowing him, he's at work and Keith is actually there for once, keeping him from the phone and keeping him from going on break. So all he's able to do is game plan with Robin and if there's one person I trust to give Steve romantic advice, it's Robin.

My feet carry me through the halls as I make my way up to their room, hearing the cheering and yelling from inside. I can only hope that they won, putting everyone in a good mood along with Eddie. Pushing open the door, it squeaks, capturing the attention of the people inside as they all turn to look at me. The smiles on their faces only grow as I smile to myself, chuckling quietly as Eddie claps his hands.

"Yes! You're just in time!" He cheers, waving me over as I wave at Dustin, giggling at the wink he throws my way. I step up to Eddie's side as he adjusts himself in his 'throne', his chin tilting to look up at me with a bright grin. "We won the campaign!" He giggles proudly as he claps once more, turning back to his friends with a proud grin.

"Well good, then I don't have to hear them complain all the way home." I snort, catching the eye rolls from the teens to my left, my hand reaching out to shove Mike playfully. "Maybe that even warrants ice cream... I don't know." I shrug nonchalantly but Mike, Lucas and Dustin are all immediately on their feet, happy and appreciative expressions on their faces.

"Damn, I want ice cream." Eddie huffs, my lips fanning out into a smirk and I shrug.

"That really sucks, doesn't it?" I whisper, reaching forward to pat his cheek playfully as his jaw drops. "It's weird, it's almost like you have a very pretty girl to ask out on an ice cream date and you're not taking that opportunity." His eyes widen but he nods excitedly, out of his seat in seconds, tripping as he makes his way to stand in front of me, towering over my frame.

"Get with it, man!" Dustin hisses, a cackle leaving me as I reach out to smack his arm. Eddie just places his hands on my upper arms, looking down at me. "No physical contact, Eds-"

"You said sexual contact, Henderson, this is not sexual yet!" Eddie yells, not bothering to move his hands, my head tipping back in a fit of giggles and the men around me laugh. "How about, I go with you, they sit at a different table, and I pay?" He offers breathlessly, brows pulled together in desperation as I pat his chest.

"With your drug money?" I tease but he just shakes his head with a smirk, tutting quietly at me.

"Yes, the drug money from the rich white people- exploit the rich." He wraps an arm around my shoulder without another word, nodding the children on as I hold my keys out to Eddie who takes them without a second thought.

When we're all fine and settled in our booths, one milkshake in between Eddie and I with two straws, my smile only grows. His hands rest on the table in front of me, my own fingers itching to reach out and play with the chunky rings that fit perfectly around his digits. You wanna know where else those fingers would fit?

"This is awfully romantic, Munson, I'll give you that." I chuckle, leaning forward to take a sip of the chocolate milkshake, his eyes watching my lips wrap prettily around the straw.

"I try my best." He shrugs with a gentle blush, his eyes avoiding mine as I grin. "So, what did you do today?" Oh other than fantasize about two guys who are both in love with me? I giggle, concealing my thoughts that want to slip from my obviously dirty mind, shrugging my shoulders playfully.

"Not Steve." I wink and he immediately nods, sitting up a little bit straighter as he points at me proudly.

"Good girl." Fuck. My insides twist at the subtle praise, my lip tugging between my teeth as I bite back a shuddered breath. "Yeah, I knew you were a 'good girl' type'a chick." He snorts, taking a long sip from the milkshake as I gawk at him.

"Nothing sexual, Eds." He rolls his eyes at my chastising tone, a wicked smirk spread across his lips that I want nothing more than to kiss.

"Dustin said no physical sexual advances. He never specified dirty talk." He winks, my thighs clenching and I continue to bite at my lip, knowing that this is not going to be an easy week for me.

But if it's not going to be an easy week for me, then I'm gonna make it even harder for them.

Day 2:

Stirring in my bed, my back thumps against the mattress as I flip over for the millionth time, my head spinning with thoughts about the date early on but also about my lack of contact with Steve. It bothered me, sure, but it also worried me that I went the whole day without hearing from him.

Grabbing my phone off of my bedside table, I toss it into my lap and immediately begin to slide in Steve's numbers, anxious butterflies swirling around in my stomach at the thought of him picking up, voice all groggy from sleep. But as the first line rings, my head shakes, hands slamming the phone down onto the base with a huff.

Why the hell am I so nervous?

I've known Steve for years, longer than I've even known Eddie, so why is it that this whole arrangement make me feel so nervous and unsteady around the two closest men in my life?

The hairs on every inch of my skin sticks up as a knock on my window sounds throughout my room, my brows pulling together at the sight of a figure outside my drapes. Timidly, I pull back the curtains to see Steve, a relieved smile on his lips as I reach up to wipe sleep from my eyes. I immediately set the phone down and slide the window open, helping him over the threshold and into my room.

"I actually just chickened out of calling you." I chuckle quietly, holding a finger to my lips as I leave the window open, enjoying the light that it brings to my previously pitch-black room. He grins, running a hand through his hair as he slips off his shoes, falling back onto my bed almost immediately.

"Well, I'm here, apparently I read your mind." Snorting, I roll my eyes, moving to lay down next to him as I take a deep breath. "I feel so shitty for not seeing you or calling you today. Keith was at the video store and I literally could not catch five goddamn minutes." He huffs anxiously, tilting his head to look over at me but I just reach over to pat his thigh reassuringly.

"That's exactly what I assumed happened. I was only mildly worried." I explain quietly with a shit-eating grin on my face. He chuckles, nodding his head in relief. "So what made you come over?"

"Dustin called me and said you and Eddie went on a date. That he paid for all your ice cream and stuff." There's a sense of disgust in his voice, his lips tugged down into a frown.

"Yeah, it was nice. They won their campaign today so I figured celebration was in order." I curl up on my side next to him, my eyes flickering over his tired expression as he yawns. "You didn't have to worry and come all the way out here at midnight. It's barely day two." I whisper and he nods immediately, his head lolling to the side as he gazes softly at me in the dark room.

"I know, I know. I just..." He trails off, biting at the inside of his cheek as he scoots a bit closer to me, his nose only inches away from mine. "All I thought about today was you." My lip tucks between my lip as I grin excitedly.

"Yeah?" I ask but I already know that's true just from what I know about both of the boys begging for my attention. Once they give their undivided attention towards one thing- or person- that's where all of their energy will go towards. "That's kind of romantic, Harrington." He chuckles sheepishly, reaching over to shove me but his eyes never leave mine, flickering back and forth from my gaze, down to my lips. Every ounce of my body is telling me to kiss him, to just break the rules and see what it feels like- that maybe it would help me gain insight towards my ultimate, painful decision. "I want to kiss you." I admit, my confession sounding awfully shaky as his eyes widen briefly, lips parting handsomely and he chuckles under his breath.

"I wanna do more than just kiss you." My thighs clench at his words, heart skipping a beat as I watch his tongue sweep out across his lips. He has me completely wrapped around his finger, my body inching towards him as my hand soothes up his chest to wrap around his neck.

"Fuck, you can't say that stuff, Harrington." I whisper but it sounds dangerously close to a whimper, my voice completely breathless as he grin, reaching up to cup my cheek. "This is getting sexual. Don't make me tell Dustin that you broke the rules." I shake my head, shutting my eyes tightly as I roll onto my back.

"Screw Henderson and his rules." He groans, leaning over me as his lips press against my cheek, traveling down my chin as I bite my lip, concealing the needing, wanting moans that want to slip through.

"Play nice. Or else I'll have to go level the playing field and make out with Eddie." His body freezes at my threat, eyes rolling with a cringed smile as I giggle, reaching over to pinch his side.

"That's the ultimate cock-block." He chuckles, running his fingers through his hair as he reaches over to pull me back into his arms.

Day 3:

I know in my heart that it's going to take me more than a week to pick one over the other, both of the men getting at me in just the right ways. I try to convince myself that it's shocking that they know me this well, that there would be no reason for me to fall for the both of them even more but I have to chalk it up to the fact that they both know me way better than I thought they did.

The gifts, the flowers, everything is just perfect; everything they've said to me, over the phone, through letters, it all just hits my heart and mind in the right way. They've been so kind and so patient, making it about me instead of taking opportunities to dig at one another. They've been true gentlemen about this whole arrangement and, other than Steve's sexual misstep the other night, they've followed Dustin's rules to a T.

But today feels different.

There's a hint of underlying tension as we all spread out across the Wheeler's basement, having our monthly meeting regarding the supernatural activity within Hawkins. Since Vecna and the Mind Flayer showed their ugly faces, we decided that we would get together monthly to go over any weird things that have happened since we've talked last.

But this month, the topic of conversation is the arrangement between the group love triangle; Steve, Eddie and I.

"So, nothing sexual has happened at all?" Dustin asks, the group suddenly paying full attention to the men who sit on either sides of me, the groups eyes prying and curious. It's rare that their attention is focused this much- they're all typically scatterbrains- but everyone is on high alert today for all the wrong reasons.

"Steve almost fucked up the other night but I quickly threatened him and deflated his boner." I snort, tucking my knees up to my chest as Eddie gasps beside me, leaning to look past me and at Steve who blushes vividly.

"What did you threaten him with?" Eddie asks and the rest of the group hums in agreement, looking to me for an answer as I chuckle, my eyes shutting.

"I said if he tired to make out with me that I would have to even the playing field and go make out with Eddie. He quickly backed off." Dustin and Robin immediately erupt in giggles, Steve's jaw dropping at the betrayal, throwing him under the bus so easily with their laughter. Eddie just wraps an arm around my shoulder, tugging me into his side with a happy grin.

"That's my girl. Win for Munson." Eddie pumps his fists proudly as I roll my eyes playfully, reaching over to pat his thigh and I hear Steve huff beside me, pouting. I just send him a small smile with a reassuring nod, realizing that he gets ten times more jealous than Eddie does, probably due to the fact that he's way more insecure.

"I'm genuinely so intrigued by this dynamic." Lucas whispers, shaking his head as he wraps an arm around Max with a laugh.

"Why don't you both just date her?" Mike asks, brows pulled tightly together as my stomach churns at the thought. In a perfect world, it would be amazing but I know these two men better than they know themselves and I know that having to share me would never fly, no matter how much that thought excites me.

"Because they're possessive and want me to themselves." I explain briefly, the rest of the group sharing an agreeable 'ahh'. Eddie's arm tightens around me at my words and I feel Steve's fingers toy with my shoelaces.

"So, do you have any idea of who you're going to pick?" Dustin's question makes my heart stop, the whole room feeling a whole lot more claustrophobic, my stomach twisting painfully as my lips tug down into a frown.

"Let's not stress her out with that right now, alright Henderson?" Eddie explains quietly, my head instinctively falling into his shoulder as I let him stand up for me. "You gave us a week."

"It's only day three." Steve quickly says, my head craning to look over at him with a soft smile. My anxiety diminishes a bit, relaxing into the couch behind me as I listen to the rest of the group fall into a normal conversation about anything other than me and my relationship status.

Day 4:

My hands work with what I have, dabbing some eyeshadow onto Eddie's eyelids as he smiles up at me, hands resting on my waist. It didn't take much convincing once I requested to do his makeup, knowing deep in my heart that Eddie always wanted someone to do this to him. The thought of embracing his femininity was always something he wanted but he never had the correct person to trust in his life to come clean about this secret to.

"This is nice." He whispers, thumbs drawing circles into the bare skin of my waist where my shirt bunches up. "You gonna put badass eyeliner on me?" He asks, eyes suddenly opening as he gazes up at me sweetly, a smile spreading across my lips. He's gentler than most think, his hardcore, 'bad boy' attitude quickly fading the minute he knows he can be himself.

Snapping us out of our happy gaze, the phone to my left rings and I groan, rolling my eyes as I abandon the makeup, picking the call up; all while not leaving Eddie's lap.

"Hello?" Eddie smiles at the sweetness of my voice, his fingers playing with the small eyeshadow pallet in his lap.

"Hey, it's Steve, are you busy?" A smirk spreads across my lips as Eddie's eyes widen, looking up at me with a hint of jealousy and possessiveness, waiting desperately for me to answer.

"I'm a tiny bit busy. Why, what's up?" I quiz, playing with the phone cord and I hear Steve chuckle on the other end of the line. Eddie just pouts, pinching my thigh as I blow out a laugh.

"Just missed your voice. I'm on break at work and I just wanted to call you and tell you I was thinking about you." My face warms at his kind words and I can picture him on the other side of the line, cheeks red, hair tousled from anxiously playing with it like he does.

"Tell him you're not thinking about him." Eddie whisper screams and I giggle, shoving him playfully before slapping a hand over his mouth. His eyes look down at my hand with furrowed brows, my eyes giving him a testing look as he nods obediently.

"Is that Eddie?" Steve asks, disappointment lacing his voice as I pout, knowing that he'll be upset now- not upset, but jealous.

"Yes, we're currently having a makeover- he's letting me do his makeup." I chuckle, holding the phone between my ear and my shoulder as I pick the eyeliner up in my fingers, freeing Eddie's mouth as he sticks his tongue out at me. It's nice that Eddie has so much time to spend with me since his job really doesn'y demand many hours but it maybe wasn't the fairest to Steve who works constantly.

"Oh."

"It's alright, Stevie. C'mon, keep telling me how much you miss me." He laughs quietly at my demand, my fingers cupping Eddie's cheek as I carefully apply the eyeliner a bit too messily.

"I was just thinking about the other night." Steve mutters, my lip tucking between my teeth but also in concentration as my brain spins, thinking back to our proximity, the feeling of his lips against my skin.

"The other night?" Eddie asks in a hushed voice, this time, quiet enough that Steve doesn't hear him.

"Just was I guess wondering where you stand with everything." Steve's voice sounds unsure and a whole lot like prying, trying to see if I've made a decision. I scoff, watching Eddie's brows furrow as I finish the eyeliner on one of his lids. My brows are pulled together in frustration, my voice coming out ten times more strained than I intend.

"It's only day four." My words shake, breathing shuddered a bit as Eddie sits up a bit straighter, arm wrapping around my waist at the sight of my discomfort and the tears lining my eyes.

"And you've seen Eddie every day." Steve huffs and I can imagine the pout on his lips, eyes dropping low to the ground as Keith yells at him to come off his break.

"Is this you asking to spend more time with me?" I ask incredulously, confused as to why he couldn't just call and ask to see me tonight or ask what I'm doing. Instead, he allows himself to get swayed the minute he finds out that I'm with Eddie.

I know that Steve worries, especially with what happened after Nancy and Jonathan. He worried about cheating and dishonesty so maybe he thinks he's protecting himself by pushing me to try to come to some sort of decision now but it's only pushing me away further.

"You know what, forget about it." Steve mutters and before I can reply, the dial tone fills my ear, my lips parting in shock as Eddie's eyes rake over my expression. My hands slam the phone down onto the base, sniffling loudly as Eddie pulls me closer towards him.

"Did he hang up on you?" He takes my silence as a silent agreement, hands soothing over my back with a sad scoff. "He signed up for this. Same as I did. We both agreed to be patient with you and do our best to win you over." My head nods instinctively at his words but they're not clicking. Maybe Steve thought that this was going to be an easy decision- hell, even I did a little bit. A part of me thought that I would have some sort of idea as to who I want to be with more but I don't.

I just don't have an answer for him yet- for either of them.

"He's just constantly comparing and seeing this as a competition, instead of thinking about how he's coming off." I explain, my hands pressing against his chest as he listens intently, lips sealed and eyes soft. I sigh violently, fingers fisting the material of his t-shirt. "I think he's just terrified to lose me." My voice shakes as he leans forward, eyes catching mine with a teasing grin.

"Join the fucking club." I giggle tearily, reaching up to wipe my eyes as I listen to him, leaning down to rest my forehead against his muscular shoulder. How come I never realized he's got muscles? "Look- I know something happened the other night with you guys, he kissed you or something and, sure, it revs me up to think about it." His muscles tense beneath me as I sigh, hating myself for disappointing two people at once, all because I love both of them too much. "But I'm not about to take that out on you when I want nothing more than to prove to you that I'm the right decision." His lips skim against the shell of my ear and I relax at the feeling of his hands soothing against my back.

"Maybe he didn't realize it would be this hard." Mumbling, he nods, understanding but not saying anything more about it. A few moments go by, silent and comfortable as I am overcome with exhaustion, my emotions taking too much out of me.

"I just want you to know," he whispers, pressing a kiss to the side of my head, "I know you must be worried sick about losing one of us but you won't lose me. We've been friends for as long as I can remember a-and that's not me giving you an excuse to go pick him but..." I lean back to look at him as he rambles, his smile sad and his shrug forced. "I'm going to be here, either way. And I think that says a lot more than Harrington hanging up on you because you haven't made up your mind." I nod, knowing that everything he's saying is true but my heart twists painfully at the thought of Steve probably ranting to Robin as we speak. "You're allowed to not have your mind made up." Wiping my tears gently with the pads of his thumbs, he smiles, pressing a simple kiss to my nose before clapping his hands. "Now, finish my makeup, wench, so we can take pictures."

Day Five:

My heart aches as I wait on my front steps, knees anxiously bouncing up and down as I stalk every car that passes by. Steve promised in the voicemail he left last night that he would be over at nine in the morning, bright and early, to pick me up for a day together. He also insisted that he wasn't taking no for an answer.

After Eddie left last night, covered in makeup with a bright smile on his lips, I laid in bed and cried. Sobbed hysterically for hours, curled up in the sweatshirt that Eddie left behind, boxes of tissues coming and going.

Eddie was so kind and so reassuring, his smile hitting places in my heart that I needed. It's as if our friendship just got better especially now that we're finally able to talk freely about our feelings towards one another.

But something about Steve and his frustration, the total 180 from our friendship prior, it wasn't sticking well with me. Maybe he thought it would be easy to talk about his feelings for me now that everything is out in the open, now that everyone knows that both him and Eddie both want me. But maybe it just solidified that he has no idea how to actually talk to women, especially since Nancy and her inability to tell him how she was truly feeling.

My brows lift as I stand, watching Steve pull into my driveway with a small smile on his lips, his fingers fluttering in a gentle wave. I let out a breath of relief as I step down my steps, jogging to the car as quick as I can just to be able to hear what he has to say. I huff breathlessly as I plop down into the passenger side, turning almost immediately in my seat to face him with a nervous smile.

"Relax." He chuckles sheepishly, reaching over the middle console to take my hand in his. I relax a bit, fastening my seatbelt as he rolls back out of my driveway. "I just wanted to take you somewhere to talk. I know you like the rain and stuff so." I nod, watching the droplets of water hit the windshield quietly as he turns the music completely down just so I can enjoy the sound of the rain.

But the silence doesn't last long.

"Are you mad at me-"

"No, god no. Never." He squeezes my hand, not even letting me finish my worried thought before reassuring me. "I'm an asshole for last night, seriously. Henderson practically kicked my ass when I told him what happened." He huffs, running his other hand through his hair as he stops at a red light. He turns to me with apologetic eyes, his lips in a slight pout. "I hope you and Eddie had a good time. Maybe I just get a little bit more jealous than I should." He admits, biting at the inside of his cheek as he pulls onto the quarry road, a smile taking over my face as I remember the first time he took me to the quarry for the first time. "I shouldn't have hung up on you- god, I'm sorry." He sounds embarrassed, his cheeks heated up in angry embarrassment and he parks the car, immediately taking off his seatbelt and pulling me into his arms. I chuckle lightly, unbuckling myself to wrap my arms properly around him.

"It's okay. I get that this is weird for everyone." I whisper, brushing my fingers through his hair as we sit in silence, the rain comforting me as my nose brushes against the crook of his neck. "I hate that I'm hurting you." My lip wobbles sadly but he just laughs sweetly, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.

"I can take it." He promises, pulling away from me with a sigh, reaching up to trace his finger along my cheek. "I'll love you either way. Even if it has to be platonic if you pick him. I get it." My brows furrow painfully at the thought of not being with him but I feel the same if I think about it the other way.

Fuck.

"This is really hard for me." I whimper, a single tear dripping down my cheek but he's quick to brush it away.

"I know, sweetheart." His voice is heartbreakingly kind, the type of kind that makes me want to just sob and fall into him, to never let him go. "You don't gotta worry about losing me- you could never." He swears, cupping my cheeks in his strong hands, eyes flickering back and forth between mine.

"Eddie said the same thing." I roll my eyes sadly with a sorrowed smile but he just laughs.

"I fucking hope so." His words pull a giggle out of me, my eyes fluttering shut and a few tears escape my eyes. "You've got like two of the best guys in Hawkins pining after you." My head leans into his hands, resting my eyes a bit after a whole night of sobbing.

"I do and it's the best but it also fucking sucks, Harrington." I play with a spot on the scratched seat beneath me and he watches me with fond eyes.

"We've both been your best friends for a long time. You just have to trust me when I tell you that we'll all be fine. You'll be okay." He whispers, taking my hands in his, squeezing them once more as I give him a half-convinced nod.

Day Six:

As the week starts to come down to an end, the want and need to just stay in bed and avoid all responsibilities sounds sweeter than anything. I spent all day yesterday with Steve, going on a long walk and out to dinner, wrapping up the night with a movie that Robin stole us from their work.

It was perfect and sweet, definitely what I needed to heal whatever wound had formed from him being so rude and hanging up on me abruptly. But the lack of communication with Eddie was killing me throughout the whole day, just wanting to give him a call and tell him that I would talk to him later, that he didn't have to worry.

But I never picked up the phone, even after Steve left.

My eyes flicker as I watch the birds fly by my window, their chirping calming the nausea rising in my stomach every time I think about the phone ringing and it being one of the boys. I don't have the energy to talk, to explain how I'm feeling, to cry anymore about my current predicament.

The only thing I can do is just roll over every once in a while, tucking myself further under my covers and listen to the quiet music playing in the corner of my room.

The door cracks open a bit, catching my attention as I pull the covers further up my body, tucking them under my nose. Eddie's head pops into my room, his eyes immediately drooping a bit at the sight of me so secluded.

"Hi." He smiles, slipping into my room with a soft smile, not bothering to turn on the light or ask any questions, he just shuts the door and strips himself of his leather jacket. He works on his shoes next, tossing them away from him as his fingers reach down to curl around the edge of my blanket. "Scoot over, toots." I chuckle quietly at the cheesy nickname, lifting the covers for him to slip underneath them, his arms immediately pulling me to him. I rest my head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heart beating gently.

"I don't wanna talk." I whisper, my voice croaking as he sighs, carding his fingers through my hair.

"Then don't. I'll talk anyways, you know that." I chuckle breathily at his sass, my eyes fluttering shut as I throw a leg over his, curling myself into him as far as I can. "Steve called me and told me he was worried about you. Told me that I was the better option to come over and help." His fingers dance across my back soothingly, my mind barely taking in any of his words as I'm overcome with exhaustion.

"'m just sad." I whisper, not bothering to expand upon it, knowing that Eddie just gets it.

"I don't want you to be sad." He mumbles, lips pressing against my hairline a few times and I feel his shoulders droop. "Do you want me to remove myself from this triangular equation? Take the pressure off of you-"

"No!" My eyes tear as I frantically shake my head, leaning back to look at him, watching his jaw clench and gaze flicker away from me. "No, please don't." My head shakes as I desperately find myself crawling closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he pulls me into his lap. "I still have another day." I plead, just needing him here, with me, just for today and then tomorrow I can cry and panic about all of my deep rooted concerns.

"I'd lose this whole thing if it meant that you'd feel some sort of relief." He admits, tucking himself into me, holding onto me as if I'd evaporate if he let me go. "I just want you to be happy." I pull away to wipe at the tears streaming down my cheeks but they come quicker than I can bat them away. He just tilts his head at me, hands rubbing over my lower back.

"You make me happy." I cry, eyes squeezing shut as my chest aches.

"I know, bug." He whispers, scooting down on the bed as I follow his lead, sliding down between his legs so I can lay my head on his sternum. "Let's just stay here, alright? That sound like a plan?" He offers, brushing his fingers through my hair as I give him a silent nod, watching as my tears make small little blotches on his t-shirt.

Day Seven:

I didn't think my eyes could get more swollen than how they were before Eddie showed up yesterday but after spending the whole day crying on and off with him, they're now bloodshot and puffy, dried up and pained with nothing more to give.

I made it clear to the both of them that I need the day to think, to decide and consider all the options on the table. I then told them that I would meet them both later on at the coffee shop around the corner from me, hopefully being able to answer some of their questions and have made up my mind in that time.

I had a decision to make and even after almost a week of gathering information and being swept off of my feet, the answer couldn't be more unclear.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @smoke-and-fire386 @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is

[thesolferino]

Favor

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ genre: angst, fluff

⤷ word count: 8.4k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: dream asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a day. things only seem to go downhill from there.

It started as a favor.

On a quiet night in your apartment when you stared at your phone for way longer than your eyes could physically take and rolled around on the bed, talking to one of your best internet friends, Dream, he asked you for a favor. His voice was muffled through the mic on his phone, the one connected to his computer way cleaner, but neither of you could bother getting off FaceTime and call on Discord instead - yet you still heard him loud and clear, because you burst out laughing right after.

“What the hell did you just say?” you laughed, turning on your stomach and opening the call, now entirely focused on the timer that counted every second you spent talking to him instead of your Twitter timeline.

“It’s embarrassing, don’t make me repeat it!” And for that sole reason, you wanted him to repeat it, loud and clear.

“Is this why you were so insistent on me coming down to Florida? So I could pretend to be your girlfriend at your cousin’s wedding so your family doesn’t think you’re a loser?” you laughed, finding the situation entirely absurd as he sputtered, words mashing together, trying to defend himself.

“No! No, I wanted you to come here because we’re friends and I-I wanna meet you, this is just a… benefit, of sorts.” he replied, and you couldn’t help but laugh even harder at his poor attempt of trying to save face.

“Alright, I’ll bite.” you chuckle. “What’s in it for me?”

“Whatever you want.” he responded, much too quick. Your eyebrows raised.

“Whatever I want?” you parroted.

“Yes.” he confirmed. “I’ll buy you something, if you want; I’ll even pay you-”

“Pay me?! I’m not a whore, Dream!” 

“That is not AT ALL what I was saying!” he cut in, yelling as you burst into a new fit of laughter. “It’s just… I sort of already told them I have a girlfriend and I was just hoping you’d say yes ‘cause it’s gonna be very awkward if I show up without the girlfriend in question.” 

You put your head in your hands and he sort of dryly laughed at himself when he heard your palm hit your forehead. “What is wrong with you, man?” 

“Listen, it’s not gonna be so bad! Just stay by my side for a bit, look pretty, we’ll get some drinks, and then dip. That’s it, I promise.” he reasoned.

“And here I thought we were gonna make out in front of everyone. What’s a fake relationship if we don’t make a show out of it?” you sarcastically snickered, and could practically see his eyeroll from miles away.

“If that’s what you want, then we’ll do it, by all means.” he replied and you laughed, shaking your head in mild disbelief.

“Alright, well, if you already told them, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” you huffed, pretending to be way more bummed out about it than you really were. “I’ll do it.” 

“Thank you so much, oh my God.” he replied and you chuckled at the sheer relief in his voice.

A few seconds of silence pass. “What’s the catch?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“How do you want me to publicly embarrass myself in exchange for this favor?”

“Personally, I think that forcing you to tweet that tweet about pissing yourself in bed again and also tweeting that everyone should subscribe to me isn’t “publicly embarrassing” at all.” 

“Maybe I should’ve picked a different fake girlfriend.”

“Sucks to suck, pissbaby.”

The weeks leading up to your meetup felt like years, with every treacherous minute of you two talking over muffled mics and shitty webcams feeling longer than it should, your empty apartment feeling emptier and emptier by the day. Was it even possible to miss a person you hadn’t even met yet? 

It turns out that it very much was, because as soon as the painfully long weeks were up and you were finally metres away from him, you jumped in his arms like a woman finally seeing her soldier husband after the war, standing on your tiptoes while he bent down the best he could to hug you back. His chest rumbled with a warm laugh when you turned your head ever so slightly towards his ear.

“Hello, boyfriend.” And just like that, the warm turned into a groan of faux annoyance while you burst into laughter and he pulled away, scanning your face with an equally annoyed look.

“I should’ve never asked you for that. You’re never letting it go, are you?” Yeah, you were kind of annoying with the amount of corny boyfriend jokes you threw his way - you had to give him that. But then again, he crafted his own fate and now he must accept the consequences.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realise your majesty wasn’t appreciating the work I’m doing! I just won’t show up at that wedding, how about that?” you bit back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re such an idiot.” he laughed. “Give me those bags.”

A blissful week had passed, and he hadn’t pissed you off in real life nearly as much as you thought he would. It took a bit of getting used to to his family calling him Clay instead of his beloved internet username, and you did get a couple of suggestive looks from his mother the first few times she visited - you had a couple of “eye conversations” in which she never exactly asked if you were his girlfriend, and you never exactly denied it, but you knew both of you felt the weight of the unspoken words yet you had to keep everything secret and ambiguous. Or at least you thought you did, before he revealed to you that he told his mom the two of you were dating already. Seems like the glances were knowing and not questioning. Maybe you weren’t as good at eye conversation as previously thought.

Living with him was fine, mostly because he had godly air conditioning and a house that was probably way too big for him, and also a very cute cat that followed you everywhere and made living with a man for a full two weeks way more bearable. Finding out that he can’t cook was one of the most bizarre revelations about him that you’d had in the years of your friendship, and you demanded he watched as you made chicken wraps. You complained about how he was 21 and couldn’t cook for himself, he complained about how it’s 2021 and he can just order from Chipotle or something, dude.

A week of goofing around and trying to hide the fact the two of you temporarily lived together from the internet had passed quicker than it should’ve, and for the first time in seven days, Netflix was turned off and the two of you were dressing up for the wedding, ready to set off with his parents and younger sister. He spent ages trying to convince you to match with him, which was quite literally impossible because he wore a black suit and you brought a red dress, which resulted in the two of you roaming around a local mall at 10 am, half asleep, looking for a reasonably formal black dress, because of course Dream always got his way.

An hour of arguing and your fashion tastes clashing later, you picked an off shoulder black dress with a high slit, along with a pair of pumps, both of which you forced him to pay for, and went back home, ready to glam both of you up as much as humanly possible because you were not ready to let him show up in some horrendous pair of shoes and claim to be your boyfriend. 

“Is this okay?” you questioned, turning from the mirror to face him and let him be the judge of your shimmery black and white eyelids, spending way too much time on a makeup look for a wedding of someone whose name you didn’t even know. He blinked at you as his judging gaze washed over you like a wave, scanning you up and down while you nervously cocked your head, leg tapping in faux impatient annoyance to cover up the fact that you felt like prey under his eyes. 

“It’s… yeah, it is. You look good.” Dream confirmed, nodding his head at you in a movement that was way too quick and snappy and you turn back to the mirror with a huff, watching him stare right back at you. 

“Too much, right? I should try something else.” You say, grabbing your makeup remover wipes, but he cuts in before you can even wipe a single smudge.

“No, no, it looks good, I promise. Really good. Don’t touch it.” Something way too sincere in his voice makes the air tense, more tense than usual, but you drop it, deciding to just take the compliment with a tight lipped smile.

“Okay. You ready?” you ask, and he nods, nervously straightening out his suit before looking back at you with an anxious grin.

“Yeah, I think so. Do I look fine?” 

He did. He looked more than fine. You’d never seen him actually dress up for something and put proper care into his looks - he was practically forced into doing it by you this time as well - so seeing him in an actual black suit, all formal and expensive looking, messy dirty blond hair properly combed for the first time in ages, made you gulp and look away. You sort of never understood the argument that women and men can’t be friends because you were never attracted to one of your male friends, ever. Dream was born to be an exception to every rule, it seemed. 

Realising that you abruptly looked away, you attempted to awkwardly clear your throat and smile at him.

“Yeah, you do. Let’s go.”

During the ride there, his mother seemed to finally explode and the words that have clearly wanted to pour out of her mouth for ages finally came out. You supposed it was better for the poor woman, and did your best to suppress a laugh when Dream dramatically sighed and leaned against the window when she nosily spoke up. 

“So… since when have you and Clay been together? He’s told us absolutely nothing!” She spoke up from the passenger seat, shifting to look at you, excited smile plastered on her face and you politely smiled back, mentally noting that you’d have to bully the shit out of him for acting like his mom is embarrassing him in front of his 8th grade crush.

“Ah, we’ve been friends for a long while, but we only started dating a month or so ago, because it’s hard doing long distance and all that.” you said, hoping it would sound believable enough because the two of you rehearsed this a few days ago, writing out a whole backstory from how you started dating to what exact words he used when he asked you out. There were a couple of arguments here and there, such as the fact you refused to say you confessed you’ve been in love with him for years and he refused to say he admitted he’s been your “bottom bitch” for 3 years but in the end, you somehow managed to agree on a cohesive timeline of events.

“Oh, does that mean you’re going to move here?” she questioned, and that one didn’t surprise you either, Dream having prepared a full list of answers to questions that people might ask in your notes app. He was a perfectionist to the point it got on your nerves, but that had its own perks.

“No, but I’ll definitely visit more often, and if it goes well, I might as well move here.” you smiled back at her and she nodded, going back to staring through the windshield. You and Dream exchange a relieved glance that you hope his younger sister doesn’t notice.

“Let me tell you, I was waiting for you two to get together! He always talked about you, I was getting tired of him, you know that?” she giggled and you widened your eyes at Dream who, snapping out of somewhat of a daze, immediately jumped to protest, light blush adorning his pale cheeks. 

“No, I didn’t! I did not, mom, don’t lie to her.” he argued while all she did was laugh.

“Oh come on, it’s not embarrassing now that you’re together!” she kept going, and his younger sister joined in, to make it even worse.

“Yeah, you do talk about her a lot, not gonna lie.” she spoke up and his cold glare directed her way told you everything you needed to know, hanging on by a thread not to burst out laughing. He refused to even look your way, turning back to the window as his cheeks started heating up. You couldn’t help but let out at least a bit of a giggle, placing your hand on his arm in fake comfort.

“It’s okay, you can admit it now.” your tone borderlined on mocking and he knew you’d make fun of him for days to come so he stayed silent while the rest of the car burst into laughter.

The wedding was truly beautifully set up, set in a hotel wedding venue, walls painted in pure innocent white with hints of gold here and there, and you nudged Dream as the two of you observed in awe, asking what sort of money the groom had to be able to afford this sort of expensive venue. Nudging him proved to be way easier now, because you linked arms - you originally made fun of him for suggesting to walk like that instead of holding hands like normal people, telling him you’d look like you were at your high school prom, but he persisted, and you didn’t end up looking as goofy as you thought. 

“He’s a doctor or something, pretty sure.” he replied, quick feet trudging down the long hallways, your own struggling to keep up with him, especially in your heels. He seemed to be in a rush to sit and get it over with as soon as possible so he could avoid any nosy family members, but bad luck followed him everywhere, it seems, because as soon as you two entered the place where the bride and groom would unite, at least three different pairs of eyes locked on you, and you immediately saw a fairly elderly woman get up with open arms, staring at Dream with a grin on her face. You saw him immediately tense up, and almost laughed right then and there.

“There’s my boy! Oh, you’ve grown so much, come here!” The woman looked to be in her fifties and Dream let go of your arm to nervously laugh and fall into her hug, the two rocking from side to side as she kept going on about how it seemed that he grew taller and taller every time she saw him. 

When the two pulled away, her eyes fixed on you, judgingly scanning from head to toe and you suddenly realised why Dream tensed up the way he did - old white women sure had a way to make you anxious. Thankfully, he stepped in. 

“Aunt Bessie, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is aunt Bessie, my mom’s older sister.” he generously offered the explanation you were so obviously lacking and you grinned, as if that information helped you in any way, and stuck out your hand in an offer of a handshake. However, she seemed to have different plans, because as soon as she heard the words “my girlfriend” her face lit up as if she won the lottery and her lips stretched into a smile, opening her arms for you the same way she did for him. 

“Oh my God, you finally got a girlfriend? Come here!” she said, shaking her head at your outstretched hand and gesturing you to return the hug which you quite hesitantly did, politely laughing as she hugged you tighter than you’d deem appropriate. Dream came from a family of huggers - that much was apparent from him, you guess, but you weren’t exactly prepared for this.

Aunt Bessie seemed to be way louder and screechier than expected, because the word “girlfriend” boomed through the room and off the snowy walls, and at least five other family members of his turned around to check who the lucky fellow that finally got a girlfriend was. Another one of his aunts seemed to notice the commotion and suddenly, another older woman with shoulder length, dyed blonde hair, along with her two younger kids, was hurling at you as well. 

“I always complained to him that it was about time he got a girlfriend! He’s a fine young man, no wonder you picked him, honey.” Aunt Bessie shot you a knowing look and you closed your mouth in a tight lipped smile in a feverish attempt to keep down the laugh that threatened to escape you. 

“Oh yeah, he definitely is.” you giggled, looking up at Dream again who looked like he wanted the earth below his feet to open and swallow him whole. Before you could nudge him in the ribs and tease him for hours to come, the other aunt suddenly spoke up.

“Clay! Oh my gosh, is that you?” she exclaimed, shocked grin on her face, and you briefly wondered if Dream ever even visited his family. He nervously smiled, obviously not really sure who this woman even is, but he hugged her back anyway, clearly walking the line between ‘happy to see his family’ and ‘insanely uncomfortable’.

“I haven’t seen you in so long, your dad hasn’t visited since we moved to Toronto! Look at how tall you are, you’re taller than my husband now! You used to be so tiny, whatever happened to you?” Upon hearing the word Toronto he seemed to realise who he was talking to as his eyes softened, and you wondered if he really was so expressive or you could just read him that well.

“I grew up, I guess.” He awkwardly laughed and she laughed harder than she should’ve before turning to you.

“Oh, and who is this?” She said, gaze periodically switching between him and you, a knowing smile on her face which told you she definitely knew who you were.

“Ah, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is… my dad’s cousin, Mabel.” He introduced, large hand landing on your back, and you felt like you were experiencing déjà vu at the way her face lit up at the mention of a girlfriend. 

“Wow, it’s so nice to meet you, Y/N!” She said, energetically shaking your hand, before turning back to Dream. “You never told us you got a girlfriend! You’re finally planning on settling down, huh?” 

Your head snapped in his direction at the speed of light when she mentioned settling down, and you could see him tense up as well as he nervously laughed.

“Yeah, we haven’t visited in a while, so nobody from the family really knew. And, uh… we haven’t really thought of that yet, we’re taking it slow and everything.” He said and you were almost in awe at how good he was at bullshitting. The woman did nothing but laugh.

“Ah, don’t lie to me, I see the way you two look at each other! It’s your wedding we’ll be attending next!” She winked, and just as Dream got ready to fake laugh once again, her family called her over and she excused herself, walking off.

The two of you hurried to your seats as well, sitting down next to his younger sister. 

“Your family is insane, man, holy shit.” You laughed in disbelief, staring at him as he shook his head, clearly as distressed as you were.

“Literally nobody in this family gives a single fuck if I’m single or not except the old aunties. And I seem to have a shit ton of those.” He muttered under his breath. “The way you look at each other - I literally didn’t even look at you properly that whole time!” 

You cackled at that one, hitting his arm. “She’s right, Clay. You’re one fine young man, eh?” You nudged him as he groaned in embarrassment, only turning your way to glare at you. 

You didn’t get to tease him for much longer, though, because the organ started playing and the bridesmaids and groomsmen lined up, the groom standing at his designated place. The bride walked in, arms locked with her father, thin white veil covering her face as she walked down the aisle, looking angelic in her puffy wedding gown. Silky brown hair fell down her shoulders, curled towards the ends, and you could see the hint of blood red lipstick beneath the veil. She looked beautiful - the groom seemed to think so as well, because you could see him tapping the corner of his eye lightly, wiping any stray tears.

She finally made it to the end and stepped to face her soon-to-be husband as her father moved away, sitting back in his chair. The wedding officiant stepped up, and held a speech much longer than it should be, which just led you to zone out. 

One day you’d be beneath that veil, wouldn’t you? One day, you’ll face your fiancé the same way she is, and you’ll let your hearts link with a string that nobody but the two of you could snap. Who would that be, though? Who could you even trust with your heart in their hands? And you’re not aware of how and why and when, but your eyes shot up at Dream, whose eyes also glinted in that way where you knew he wasn’t paying attention, and maybe he was thinking about the same thing as you. Maybe one day, you’ll be attending his wedding, forcing one of your friends to play a fake boyfriend as he wipes his tears, waiting for his bride to get to him. 

It was disheartening, the thought of being a bystander while he locks lips with somebody else. You supposed you just liked being the center of attention, so you let yourself pretend you were his bride in your daydreams. Separating daydreams from rational thoughts was mandatory, because you weren’t sure how you’d explain to yourself that you can’t stand seeing Dream marry someone else. 

Dream, the infamous hopeless romantic, still seemed out of it, maybe even a little emotional, despite not being that close with either of the two. He was probably thinking about his own wedding as well, thinking about his future, the face he’d see when he pulled back the veil.

Just then, his eyes darted to yours, and you realised you were caught staring, snapping your head back to the couple that started reading their vows by now. You started going red from the neck up, cheeks on fire as you could feel his gaze burning into you. He turned back after a few seconds, though, probably assuming you stared at him because you were bored, and neither of you spoke, even though you kind of wish you did. What even is there to say, though? 

By the time you snapped back, the “I do”s were already being said, and her veil was getting lifted, showing her beauty to everyone present, and as they kissed the whole room bursted into cheers and applause in support of the newlyweds. The two exit, teary eyed, their parents follow close behind, and that’s when Dream’s family rushes both of you to your feet, following the two into the reception hall where the actual party would take place. 

From then on, the wedding is the same as any other. The two have their first dance, they give a welcoming speech, and Dream lets you stuff your face with cake and repeatedly refills your wine glass as repayment for dragging you into this whole thing. At some point, he stretches his hand out to you and asks for a dance like a rom-com main character, and you’re not sure exactly why he did that because he’s mostly terrible at dancing, but you had fun letting him twirl you until you got dizzy anyway.

You also realised just how much he did actually need a fake girlfriend, because it seemed like every twenty minutes some sort of relative of his would walk up to the two of you and congratulate him on “finally getting a girlfriend”. You ended up bullying him for that as well, wondering just how long he’s been single for if they’re all this surprised that he’s got a girlfriend, to which he just downed the glass of water he’d been sipping for half an hour and asked you about the weather.

His family took a few pictures with the new couple - you even got to speak to the bride at some point, congratulating her and wishing the two of them well, but in the span of a few hours, the wedding was over and the newlyweds made a great exit, signifying the end of the party. The two of you were driven home by his parents, and you waved them goodbye as you stumbled to the front door, your heels insanely uncomfortable and the red wine in your stomach weighing down on you; you just wanted to get out of this dress and into a pair of pajamas and pass out on his couch in the living room. 

That’s sort of exactly what you did - you half-assed taking your makeup off, wiping down your face a couple of times, deciding that was enough before changing into some worn pajamas and plopping down on the couch next to Dream who already claimed his place and sunk into the cushion while a random movie played on the TV. The two of you basked in the comfortable silence that surrounded you, the exhausted, tired type. You both appreciated the quiet and fell asleep sitting next to each other, wedding already forgotten.

That night, he went from Dream to Clay.

The departure was bittersweet. You left two days after that, your hug at the airport tight, warm, filled with a sugary sweet feeling you couldn’t quite place and sour acid that ate away at you because you didn’t want to leave in the slightest. His arms were warm, inviting, whispering for you to stay but you left anyway, waving him goodbye, setting off to home. 

It seemed like all your problems came and went with him, because a week later, at 3 in the morning while you were up editing a video, you got an all caps message on your Discord from Sapnap.

“YOU’RE DATING DREAM?”

You blinked at your computer screen, white letters blinding you in the dark, brain trying to keep up with why he even thought that. Within 10 seconds, another message, this time from Dream.

“so i told george and sapnap that we’re dating”

“don’t kill me pls” 

Yeah, you weren’t going to kill him, per se, but he definitely made your life a lot harder than it should be. You opened Discord, Premiere Pro and the unedited video abandoned, typing back to Clay quickly.

“WHY”

He responded immediately, as one panicked man does.

“they’ve been making fun of me for being single for ages now :(“

“we already did this fake dating thing before and it went perfectly fine”

“just play along for a month or so”

“pls”

You audibly sighed. And as if he could hear you, he started typing again.

“i’ll promote you on my channel more”

“just pls do it”

“you love me, right” 

Another sigh fell from your lips before you could stop it. Of course you did, because if you didn’t, there’s no way you would be playing into this. You typed back.

“fine”

He messaged back immediately.

“THANK YOU”

“LOVE YOU <333”

With a shake of your head, you mumbled “idiot” with the ghost of a smile flashing on your face, switching back to your video, opting to ignore Sapnap for a little bit. He could wait. 

Fake dating seemed pretty damn easy during the first week - you thought you were killing it by sending corny tweets and staged selfies so he could screenshot them and send them to the groupchat, giggling on call about how oblivious they are and how you’re fooling them so good, both of you opting to ignore the parts where they claimed they knew the two of you were gonna get together eventually. It was fun, lighthearted, and an excuse to flirt with someone you had nothing official with.

As much as all your problems came and went with Clay, though, they came and went with his friends as well, especially that hopeless man Clay called his best friend. 

Because yeah, of course Sapnap was the one to accidentally spill to the public that the two of you were “dating”.

George was streaming at what was apparently a normal time in the UK, not so much for Florida, and Clay was sleeping while you were watching his stream while making some food for yourself. It was going fine, a bit of a chill stream, and you leaned against the fridge as your oven preheated, tired eyes following his Minecraft skin. 

“Sophie, thank you for the dono! ‘Hey George, I love your videos, just wanted to ask if you were speedrunning with Dream today?’” he read out, and you could faintly hear Sapnap join the stream through your headphones. 

“No I’m not, Dream’s… I don’t know what Dream’s doing right now, actually. He’s not responding to me, though. Probably talking to his girlfriend still.” he continued, exaggerating the last part mockingly, still playing into the whiny role of being upset that Clay was ditching the two of them for you. That majorly woke you up, though, as you stood straight on your feet immediately, because oh no, nobody was supposed to know.

You exited out of the Twitch app quickly, letting the stream play in the background as you tried to fish for Sapnap’s profile on Discord and text him as quick as possible, trying to warn him to not let anybody know, but before you could do it, you heard his laughter clear in the stream.

“Yeah, Y/N, his sweetie poo.” Sapnap said, causing George to laugh even louder, before moving onto the next topic, and your heartbeat picked up an insane amount, nails loud and probably damaging your phone screen as you typed as quickly as humanly possible to yell at him because this was not planned, at all.

You heard him go quiet after you shot him a couple of messages over Discord (“SAPNAP” “ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID” “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU” “NOBODY KNOWS YET” “IM GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU”), type something to George who then fell quiet as well for a few seconds, pure horror on his face, and then went back to streaming as if nothing happened while Sapnap profusely apologised to you on his and George’s behalf.

No apology could fix what had already been done, though, and you were left alone with the warzone that was Twitter who had already speculated the two of you were dating long before while Clay peacefully slept somewhere in his house at 4 am in Florida. You bombarded him with messages and waited until he woke up ‘cause what were you even supposed to do?! 

You chose to spend your time finishing the pizza you were originally supposed to make and almost burnt your whole apartment down because you forgot the oven was on for a whole hour while yelling at Clay’s idiotic best friends. You yelled at Sapnap, who kept apologising to you, you yelled at George, who yelled back that it’s not that big of a deal because people were bound to find out anyways, and you yelled at Clay, because he was the guilty one somehow for not being awake during your breakdown. 

He did eventually wake up though, to the shitshow that were his notifications with at least thirty messages from each of you, messages from his other YouTube friends who were fairly surprised, and his entire fanbase going ham on Twitter. He was surprisingly calm about it - calmer than you were, anyways, and sheepishly said over the phone that the fake dating thing may have to go on for a little longer since you couldn’t just date for a month and then break up, and you were sort of okay with that.

And of course, the business side of him awoke at that moment, and he giddily told you about the amount of views the two of you could pull if you did the same shit you do with George and Sapnap anyway, but on livestream. 

You rolled your eyes.

And then agreed anyway. 

And so, the charade began.

His Twitter statement was up shortly, telling the people that you’d been dating for a couple of weeks and weren’t planning to tell anybody yet until a certain someone spilled their guts live, and the fact Dream was dating someone, let alone another popular streamer, took the internet by storm. You expected hate, and you got quite a bit of that, but the people that had shipped the two of you before were certainly more than delighted and a lot of Clay’s fans were supportive. 

Now, both of you had excuses to do chill streams together and just hang out and you took the opportunity and ran with it. 

You’d sit and play Geoguessr or just try and speedrun Minecraft a bunch of times for hours on end, doing stupid bits and things you’d be doing offline anyways, with a little more flirting than usual, because that’s what made it interesting.

“Oh this is France, for sure.” you claimed one night, two or three weeks after the secret was officially out, chewing on the fries you bought for this specific occasion, streaming on his alt to a few thousand people. 

“You think so? It could be Belgium, too.” he responded, humming in thought as he looked around.

“I know so.” you responded.

“How?” 

“I just do. Gamer intuition, babe.” you said, and he wheezed at your response, repeating the words gamer intuition under his breath.

“No, seriously. It is France, I know it is, I’ve seen so many pictures of that place I know it like the back of my hand now. That’s Lyon, or something.” you continued, plopping another french fry into your mouth.

“You have? Why do you know so much about France, that’s so random.” he responded, opening the map and pointing to France, although he keeps looking around, unsure of his decision.

“I dunno, I like it there. I wish I could move there.” you replied.

“Why, though?” 

“It’s pretty and heavily romanticised! Just like me!” you joked and he laughed, before letting you continue. “I dunno, it’s the city of love. Be a little romantic.” 

“The… the city of love is whatever city the two of us are in.” he said, and it took a few seconds for you to process the joke before letting out a fake disappointed sigh.

“I can’t believe I’m dating someone as corny as you.” 

At that, he bursts into wheezes, and you follow along, enjoying the sound of his laughter coursing through your headphones more than you used to a few weeks back. It feels nice, feels right, acting like this. You like calling him your boyfriend more than you think you should. 

A few weeks go by, and it feels all too natural. It feels too natural, talking to him first thing in the morning when you’ve barely even had your coffee, calling him pet names, throwing sweet words at each other publicly like they mean nothing. It feels all too natural, and nice, and all too right, and you don’t even notice when the two of you cross the line between public and private, and you’re stuck making stupid jokes about making out when you first see each other when there’s nobody to witness them except the walls of your rooms, but you don’t like thinking about that, because you know it’ll bring nothing but confusion. The current this that the two of you have is perfect to you, perfectly lighthearted and funny and fun, and you intend on keeping it that way, refusing to think about it in any way past jokes.

That is, until you can’t anymore.

It’s late, again, and you’re staring at his contact name on your phone screen, lazily lying on the bed. It reminds you of a night from roughly 3 months ago, when your whole friendship seemed to change in the few seconds it took you to process what he’d asked of you, and it feels weird, but nice.

“My mom really likes you, you know?” Clay breaks the quiet that you’ve learned to appreciate in his presence, and you exhale through your nose, the noise just short of a chuckle.

“Yeah?” You laugh, and he does as well.

“Yeah.” He reaffirms. “She thinks you’re a great girlfriend. Apparently I seem brighter ever since we got together.”

You laugh again. “I am a great girlfriend, to be fair. She’s totally right.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t know that. If you’re as good of a girlfriend as you pretend to be, though, then you’re amazing.” He says, and words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them. 

“Yeah? You wanna find out?” The flirty nature is nothing strange to the two of you, but this time it feels kinda different, it feels like you’re stepping into dangerous territory that there’s no coming back from. You feel like you’ve ruined everything, for some reason.

He laughs, like normal, though. He laughs like nothing happened at all, and you’re so, so grateful for that.

“Sure, let’s do it. You’re about to unpack the full Clay boyfriend experience.” He snickers and you laugh as well. 

“That means I just unlock the dick as well as the personality.” you respond, quick as always, and the wheeze that escapes him is so loud that it makes you laugh too.

“...Unlock the dick…” he repeats through another wheeze and you nod, laughing.

“Yeah! I mean I’m literally experiencing the boyfriend experience without actually having a boyfriend, it’s fuckin’ great.” you say and he hums.

“You could have one, though.” 

The implications are crazy, his words are crazy, he’s crazy and everything that he could mean and couldn’t mean by that is driving you crazy too, brain faltering and heart seeming way too big for your chest to contain it. It’s silent.

“I could, I guess.” 

You choose to say, and he switches the topic naturally, like he never said anything.

Things are never the same again.

It’s not in a bad way. Sure, it is kind of a bad way for the feelings you’re trying to push down inside you, a bad way for hot nights when the unbearable heat forces you to stay up even when you don’t want to and you have no choice but to think about why you feel the way you feel as you melt into the burning sheets below you, a bad way for when he jokes about finding somebody else and you feel your stomach churning. A bad way for realising that this fake dating thing is really getting to you, but not a bad way in general.

Maybe it’s in a good way. Maybe the underlying implications whenever he makes jokes about making the relationship real are good, maybe the way he calls you in the middle of the night when he’s anxious and freaking out and defends himself by saying: “You’re my girlfriend, you’re always there for me, I just figured I could call you.” and you end up wondering if it’s possible to say jokes in such a vulnerable state or if he’s serious is good, maybe the way it’s been a few months and he won’t tell his own best friends that it was a joke the whole time is good, maybe the way you confronted him about it and he said he likes having you as his girlfriend is good. 

Maybe the way the two of you are always walking the line between joking and being serious, between being friends and something more, between lies and pranks and emotional investment and fear of committing, and the way you’re always trying to push the other off, is good. 

The fans love it. The fanart is incredible (serves especially well for those hot nights when you can’t fall asleep and you scroll, watching yourself fall in love with Clay in every universe, tales told by people who observe your story and find it worthy enough to retell in their own words, to take the love you pretend to have and turn it into something real), people love to gush over the compliments he sprinkles in at random times during conversation and the general flirty dynamic is loved by many, pulling in more views and attraction for you. 

And you suppose that’s good too, but at some point, the good warps into bad, bad warps into terrible, and you wonder if this is all even worth the sleepless nights, wondering if he feels the same way.

Those thoughts haunt you more and more often every day. When you wake up, and text him first thing in the morning, your brain acknowledges that the camera is off - nobody’s around, people aren’t listening, so why are you still playing the role of a girlfriend and starting up a conversation with him when you haven’t even brushed your teeth properly? When you’re editing in the middle of the day and he calls to keep you company, making more stupid boyfriend jokes, your stomach flips in a weird way that makes you hate him, hate the way he can joke about these things so freely, like it doesn’t hurt him. Like it doesn’t affect him like it affects you. 

But, as much as you wish you could hate him, you couldn’t bring yourself to, and that was the worst part. Because, in reality, whenever he laughed you’d smile without realising you did, whenever anything exciting happened to you he was the first one you went to, whenever you wanted to laugh or cry or sit in silence for hours or complain you always went to him, the one person who you know would listen. In reality, whenever he made a joke about giving up on the fake dating and making it real, you wished so bad that he was serious this time, that this was what it took and he’d crack and all of your suffering would end.

It eventually happens.

It’s a pretty chilly morning, birds chirp outside and the sun that slowly rises is covering the kitchen floor in a golden hue as you pour milk into your cereal with one hand and hold your phone in the other, letting Clay ramble about whatever it was this time, when he brought it up.

“So, when do you wanna come down to Florida again?” he asks casually, and you almost drop the gallon of milk in your hand. 

“What?” 

“I said, when are you coming down to Florida again? Last time you came was pretty fun.” he says, and an empty silence follows. There’s an unsaid “I miss you” that you don’t hear, and he’s too afraid of saying it. 

“Florida wasn’t exactly on my schedule this month, man.” you say, placing your phone on the counter for a second. Clay sure knew how to surprise a person.

“Well put it down, then.” he jokes, and you hum.

“What, you got another wedding coming up?” you giggle and he groans - you never really stopped making fun of him for that wedding.

“No, I don’t. Can’t a man just miss seeing his beloved girlfriend?” It’s unbelievable how quickly dread can wash over you as soon as he makes one of those jokes. You were convinced the mix of anxiety and butterflies that appears in your stomach was gonna kill you sometime soon.

“He can, he’s just being weirdly insistent.” you argue nonetheless. “But sure, I’ll consider it.”

You do more than consider it - in a few weeks, you’re back at the airport, and falling into his arms has never given you such an adrenaline rush in your whole life. Something about having him wrapped around you, close to you, the warmth of his body radiating into yours sent you spiraling, head clouded with nothing but love and the fact that you wish you could stay there forever. You wished you could press pause and cherish the moment, let yourself bask in that feeling of pure love, pure adoration that you helplessly drowned in. But you couldn’t, and you left his arms feeling oddly empty. 

Hiding the fact that you were unapologetically head over heels for him proved to be a hundred times more difficult when you were right there, next to him, talking to him, when you could just kiss him any second, feel his lips on yours and nobody would stop you - the opportunity was right there, looming over you, the devil on your shoulder taunting you, telling you to do it. 

You got to wake up in the same house as him, watch his hair stick out in different directions and his raspy morning voice as he complained about the smell of your coffee, watch his eyes glint whenever he talked about something he liked and observe as he carried around Patches like a little baby. You got to experience every bit of domestic without the consequences of committing, and you wondered just how far this would go. For how much longer would the two of you blatantly ignore the fact that you were a couple that slapped the title “fake” on it because you were cowards who refused to admit what this truly was. 

Not for long, apparently, because you grew tired, and decided to put an end to everything on one random Thursday night - and if he hated you forever for it, then so be it. 

You were sitting on his couch, watching a random movie together, drowning in one of his Dream hoodies while you chewed the popcorn he made. It was dark outside, just past midnight, and you could see the branches of a tree swaying calmly through one of the nearby windows - the silence while he scrolled through his phone lazily was comforting too, everything was lazy and serene and it would’ve been perfect if it wasn’t for the constant anxiety that gripped you by the throat whenever you were in his close proximity, the nervousness that killed you, the upset feeling of wanting to cuddle up with him but knowing you can’t because you guys are just friends, and nothing more.

The couple on the screen kiss while a violin plays in the background - how fitting. Maybe that’s what pushes you to the edge, or maybe you were just that sick and tired.

You were exhausted, beyond exhausted. Your eyes were tired, the anxiety was morphing into annoyance and anger and you were ready to give up on it all. If this ended the friendship, at least you two had a good run. Your heart couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know, you still owe me a favor in return for pretending to be your girlfriend.” you say, and you sound gone, zoned out, more than you wish you were. You hear his phone turn off with a click.

“Yeah? What do you want?” Clay asks, and you blankly stare at the TV for a few seconds before turning to face him, eyes burning. 

“Kiss me.” 

It’s silent. The characters on screen are arguing. You hear the wind through one of his open windows.

“What?” he asks, voice cracking, and his expression falls. You’ve fucked it. Oh well.

“I want you to kiss me. Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me like someone’s watching and you wanna make it believable.” you say, eyes boring into his, your words having nowhere near as much of an effect on yourself as they do on him. Your eyes sting like they’re being lit on fire, and your throat is sort of closing up, but it’s fine. “Let me have this before I go, because once I leave, I don’t wanna do this anymore, Clay. I can’t pretend like I don’t want you to introduce me as your girlfriend and fully mean it. I can’t lie to your face anymore.” 

Silence. Deafening silence, once again.

“I love you.” he blurts out, and you don’t even register it at first. “I don’t want this shit to be fake either. God, I really don’t. It hasn’t been fake for a while now, at least not on my part. I’m sorry, it’s just- it was easier to keep this bit going than it was to actually admit that I’m… into you.”

And once again, the room falls into silence, much like it always does whenever the two of you share moments like these.

And then, you burst into laughter.

“So… so you mean to tell me, that both of us have liked each other this whooooole fucking time, and just refused to admit it and ‘pretended to date’ instead?” you burst into giggles, and he looks sort of hesitant to laugh, but he does anyway.

“I mean… yeah? I was waiting for you to call me out for doing all that when nobody was watching! Why did you never call me out?! Don’t blame me, I made it so damn obvious that I wanted you!” he protests, and you almost can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“Excuse me? You should’ve just fucking told me instead of making a million and one jokes about how I’m your girlfriend! We’re not in middle school, Clay!” you argue.

“Yeah, but I thought you’d catch on and talk to me about it at some point! You never called me out for anything!”

“So what, I’m supposed to just read your mind now? You’re fucking unbelievable.” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest and turning away in annoyance. As soon as a warm hand lands on your shoulder, though, the annoyance melts like wax under fire, leaving nothing behind.

“I still haven’t returned that favor, you know?” he whispers in your ear, breath fanning your neck, closer than he should be. The hairs on your neck stand up as you turn back to Clay, who wore a mischievous grin and a glint in his eyes that suggested no good. 

You suppose bad can be good, sometimes. 

As his lips press onto yours, that theory is proven true, because he sends a flicker of fire burning down your spine, spreading into your limbs, making your fingertips electric as you pulled him in closer, hand snaking up to grip at his hair - the everlasting grin against your own proves, once again, to be no good as his hands slip under your hoodie and grip your sides, but you think you enjoy this sort of bad. 

They sneak up further, and you hear him chuckle into the kiss as your insides melt at his touch. The two of you silently agree that maybe he should ask for favors more often.

[zepskies]

Hello my lovely friend!! 😘😘

I always get so excited when your comments come in!

Yep M.M. gettin' hit right in the chest from the outset of this chapter loll. But he's starting to see (even if he doesn't want to) that Ben may have some good in him after all. 🥲

He just made the good decision unconsciously because that’s how deep the reader has wormed her way into his heart.

Yep, she's gotten her hooks into him deep without meaning to! lol Exhibit A: he's waiting there in the hospital with everyone else, brushing off his near death by skyscraper crumbling on top of him, looking dusty AF. 😂

And I couldn't not have Frank and Loco return for closure in this chapter. Had to be done! But I love that you appreciated Ben's reactions in all of this. No, he does not handle his emotions well. When you can't bury it, explode it -- as the macho men say. 🙃🙃

[Butcher on his deathbed, still got it with the jokes]: He needs to recover anyway… who else is going to cockblock like he does? 😂

Right?? I couldn't kill off that perfect dynamic. (Funny how Butcher of all people ends up being the comic relief so often in this story. 😂)

Lol Frank and Loco are so dear to my heart. Their bromance is such fun. Reminds me a bit of M.M. and Frenchie. But Frank should abso-fucking-lutely be getting "Employee of the Year."

But the second 🙈 “You were right then, and it still held up now.” But everything is so different now. He’s different, the situation is different and I just wish someone was there to tell him that!

The reader would definitely have clued him into that...ya know, if she was awake. 😭 But at least he's realizing that his actions have consequences, intentional or not! Maybe next time he'll think before he blows up a skyscraper. 🤷🏽‍♀️

[Ben and the V24 decision]: He's really in an impossible situation, poor guy. But you got it exactly right! He's willing to make sure she lives, regardless if she ends up hating him or not. And that's love, is it not? Love can be selfless and sacrificial, but it can also be selfish.

But then Frank "The Solution" Cardoza, coming in for the win!! So glad you're as proud of Ben as I am for making the more selfless choice to "open up a vein." 🥹🥹

The conversation with M.M was interesting. It was fun to see Ben actually contemplate his actions.

I knew we needed to have that ultimate confrontation between M.M. and Ben. Both characters need it, in a sense, in order for them to be able to move forward in their respective growth arcs. For M.M., it's challenging Ben, seeing if this supe is genuinely starting to have a respect for human lives. For Ben, you're right, it's confronting his own actions and becoming more self-aware of how he sees himself. A hero? Or just another super-powered asshole?

Progress indeed. 🥰

I like that he got a few comments in to grace first ““You can fuck right off, sweetheart.”” And “You know what. I’m having a good day, so maybe I’m feeling fucking generous,” he said. His mouth edged into a smirk. “But I think it’s time we renegotiated our contract. Don’t you?” Brilliant lines!

Thank you, my friend!! I thought Ben and Grace needed one last tet-a-tet as well. 🤣🤣

Oh, Ben coming into the reader's hospital room cocky AF after donating his blood. 😂 She does realize how much he has to care about her to do that for her, she's just being a little scaredy cat. 😹

**But remember that little tidbit about the temp. super strength. It might just come into play in a future BMD-verse thing I've got lined up...

LOL Ben's save count is accurate AF at this point, isn't it?? 😂

““Come on now, baby doll. You’re tougher than that.”” He always pushes her and gives her the lifts she needs. That’s what I love about this relationship. They make each other better.

Awww thank you for calling that out!! That's exactly what I intend with these two. Yes, she's been pushing him to grow in her own way, but Ben does the same for her. He reminds her to recognize her own immense inner strength. 🥹

Hahahaa Ben's reaction to learning about Jon's death was predictable, wasn't it? But just docking Frank's pay a bit is pretty lenient, considering Ben's track record of retribution. 😂😂 Considering how he helped the reader, that's Ben's way of letting Frank off the hook for his perceived lapse in judgment (even though she really didn't give Frank much of a choice at the time).

All bens initial thoughts are spot on and completely valid but he takes the time to realise what the reader needs. He’s curbing his more selfish tendencies for her and again. Such growth and progress. It makes me happy.

I'm so glad, because it gives me such feels to be able to show his growth like this. 🥹

Buuut yeah, there's still more work to be done with him. 😂 "Telling instead of asking" her to live with him I thought was on-brand. lol But she's able to bring him down to her level a bit while realizing what he really wants, which she's learned painstakingly with him, cutting through the machoism to find the sensitivity underneath. 🥹

“I am, Ben,” you said more seriously. “I’m not playing games. This is real to me, and I want to be with you.”” FINALLY! Some progress on these damn feelings.

IKR? They're "saying" it without saying ittt. But they'll get there, I promise. 😂 The Epilogue will be a bit of a rollercoaster, not gonna lie, but it's also going to be plenty of fun. 😏😏

Thank you so much as always!! Can't wait to bring you the last chapter next week.

Break Me Down - Part 17

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

AN: *Gives you a box of virtual tissues.* Just in case. 😘

Word Count: 6,000 Tags/Warnings: Macho angst ahead, hurt/comfort, major, major fluff…

Part 17: More Than Words Can Say

Mount Sinai Hospital was one of the largest private hospitals in the city. 

Fortunately, it was also the closest to Vought Tower, or what once had been the focal point of the superhero industry. It had been reduced to mere rubble and whatever dilapidated parts still stood. 

All the news outlets were covering the tower’s collapse, and speculating on what could’ve created the blast that made the entire city tremble—not unlike last year’s incident, when Soldier Boy killed the most powerful supe in the world.

In the hospital, M.M. walked through the Emergency Department until he found Yvette and her son, Devon. They sat beside each other on a single cot, now joined by Yvette’s husband Chris while she signed her discharge papers. She’d gotten off with a minor concussion and a bandage over her temple. 

“Just checking in on you guys,” M.M. said. Yvette smiled, but she asked about you. 

“She’s in surgery,” he told her. 

Yvette nodded, though tears welled up in her eyes. Chris rubbed her back and held his son’s shoulder. 

“Please call me with any news on her,” Yvette asked. 

“You got it,” M.M. said.

“And please,” she said, holding her son. “Thank Soldier Boy for us.”

M.M. paused at that. 

Seeing the family was well in hand, he returned to the trauma wing. There in the waiting room sat the whole team, minus Butcher, who’d been admitted to the hospital as well after the ED doctors didn’t like what they’d found on his lab reports. (But M.M. would look into that later. Hughie was with him now anyway.)

That left Frenchie, Kimiko, and Annie to wait for any news on you. Even Grace had arrived an hour ago. 

But M.M.’s attention was drawn to the dusty motherfucker standing near the hallway. 

Soldier Boy leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. The collar of his supe suit was undone to give his neck and chest some breathing room. He’d removed his gloves, and an empty gallon jug of water lied at his feet. 

He was covered in a fine layer of soot and grime, though he’d since washed his hands and face to the best of his ability. He was also flanked by his two hired men, Frank Cardoza and Lorenzo Rivales. 

Grace had run a quick background check on both, and as M.M. had learned, they were ex-Marines Soldier Boy had picked up in Colombia, while he was busy infiltrating a drug cartel.   

Fucking figures, M.M. thought, shaking his head as he watched the man. Grace stood and joined him.

“He’s not just gonna fuck off back to South America,” he told her. “You realize that right?”

She considered that with a tilt of her head. “Let’s just see what happens here.”

As if right on cue, your surgeon made his way down the hall and over to the waiting group. Ben pushed off the wall and went to meet him, as did Grace, Annie, and M.M. 

Annie and Ben eyed each other with mistrust and annoyance, respectively, but then he ignored her to regard the surgeon with a terse, expectant gaze.  

The doctor was a graying man in his fifties. He seemed to internally brace himself before he spoke, glancing at Ben first before the others. 

“We’ve repaired the damaged muscle around her right leg. The femur is broken. We also addressed the wound near her shoulder,” he said. “However, the rebar did nick her heart. She’ll need additional surgery to repair it.”

Ben sensed a but coming. He crossed his arms. “Okay, what’s the problem?”

The doctor gave a nod and a short sigh. 

“She’s lost a lot of blood,” he explained. “We’ve given her a transfusion, of course, but she’s in a delicate state right now.”

“So why’re you wasting time? Do your fucking job,” Ben snapped. Grace shot him a glance, but addressed the doctor herself.

“What are her odds, doctor?” she asked. Ben eyed her with a glare. She ignored him for the time being. 

“She needs this now. But, there is a chance she won’t make it out of surgery at this stage,” the surgeon replied. “The OR will be available in thirty minutes…so this would be the time to be with her, just in case she’s unable to get through this.”

“Excuse me?” Ben said. 

His tone was dark and deep with grit, and the doctor stepped back. No one dared attempt to hold Ben back, but Grace quickly thanked the doctor and urged him to move forward with prepping you for surgery. 

Loco shared a saddened look with Frank, who watched their boss with a deepening frown. 

Annie turned to Ben with a measure of sympathy, hidden underneath her irritation at his attitude and her worry for you. You were still her friend, and she felt guilty for how cold she’d been treating you lately. And she could see, at the very least, that this man cared about you. 

“Look, can you just calm down a bit? We’re all here hoping she pulls through,” Annie said. 

M.M. stood behind her, silent, supportive. But Ben just ignored her, and everyone else for that matter. 

He stalked down the hallway. And when he turned a corner, out of eyeshot, he growled and punched a hole deep into the closest wall.

Hughie perked up when Butcher finally started to rouse in his hospital bed. They had him on a hefty dose of morphine. 

He blinked his weary eyes, his head rolling over on the pillow. His lips quirked when he noticed Hughie, who was glaring at him. 

“Watching me sleep now?” Butcher remarked. “Pretty fuckin’ creepy, Hugh.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Hughie said. 

That was something Butcher couldn’t refute. He nodded. “I see they told you.”

“When were you gonna say something?” Hughie said. “When you fucking dropped dead?”

“Probably not even then,” Butcher teased. But when he took in the younger man’s face, all he saw was his little brother, Lenny. Butcher sighed. 

“Ain’t nothing any of us can do about it.”

“Fucking cancer?” Hughie said incredulously. “You could’ve gotten treatment.”

“Would’ve bought me a few more months, maybe,” Butcher admitted. That fell between them for a moment with stony silence. 

“It’s all right,” he added. “I’ve had my fucking time. Got to see the life drain from that golden cunt’s eyes…got to let my girl rest easy.”

Hughie didn’t buy that. Or maybe, he just didn’t want to. His eyes burned, both with emotion and determination. He stood from his seat and set out to find Grace. If there was anything that could help Butcher, she would know. 

While the others went down to the cafeteria for a bite to eat, Frank sat in the waiting room with Loco beside him and Dr. Baker’s briefcase on his lap.

He was sorting through its contents while Loco sat with crossed arms and slumping shoulders. He looked over at Frank’s stoic profile with a frown.

He was older, but not by much. They’d gone through one fresh hell after another together, and somehow, Frank always managed to pull their asses out of the wringer. It seemed Frank was trying to do the same for their boss. 

It was funny, actually. Soldier Boy wasn’t their first contractor. You were their first kidnapping though. Neither he or Frank had felt good about it when Antonio brought you back to the mansion in Medellin, but they’d agreed to do a job. Guarding you became part of that job. 

And yet, you had somehow reminded both Frank and Loco that they used to be respectable members of society. They used to have families, friends. They had once been soldiers. Good men. Maybe that was why they’d grown fond of you over the past few months. 

And Frank…well, Loco knew the man had his reasons for wanting to be done with this work. Loco couldn’t blame him; he was feeling tired himself. 

“Found anything good?” Loco asked in Spanish. Frank’s dark brows had drawn together in new interest.

“More than good,” he said. He looked up, but didn’t find Soldier Boy in the waiting room. “Where the hell did he go?”

Loco pointed to the reception desk. “Try asking someone.”

With a sharp sigh, Frank gave Loco the briefcase. “Guard that with your fucking life. Don’t let anyone from the CIA take it from you.”

Loco gave him a look of offense. “It’s like you don’t know me at all, bro. Fucking hurts.” 

Rolling his eyes, Frank got up and went over to the reception desk. 

“Excuse me,” he said. There seemed to be no one at the reception desk. Granted, it was late at night, and they technically weren’t supposed to be there. Grace Mallory had worked out an agreement with the hospital to allow them all to stay overnight. 

He didn’t have to wait too long though, as an on-duty nurse came over with a clipboard in hand. Her red hair caught his eye, along with her pretty smile. 

“Hi there. Can I help you?” she asked. 

Frank faltered, just for a moment. But he cleared his throat and met her eyes. 

“Did you happen to see which way Soldier Boy went?” he asked.

She gave him a wan smile and pointed down the hall, to the left. “That ‘a way. Think he had an argument with the wall over there.”

Frank followed her gaze and caught sight of the hole in the wall. He frowned. 

“Sorry about that,” he said. 

The nurse gave him a sideways look. “No worries, hun. It’s not your fisticuff outline in the wall, now is it?”

Once again, Frank didn’t know quite what to say to her slightly teasing smile. But he returned it, more reserved, but genuine. 

“Thank you,” he said, with a nod. Then he remembered then what he needed to do. 

And he took off brusquely down the hall. 

It took him a few minutes to pull his head together, but Ben eventually worked up his nerve to go and see you. 

You were still drugged out asleep, of course. He stood outside the large window of your private room in the Intensive Care Unit. He wouldn’t go in though. Part of him refused to believe it had gotten to this. 

And the reality, that this was his fault. He’d caused the blast that destroyed the tower. His fault he hadn’t gotten to you sooner.

“You are the reason I needed saving,” you’d told him once. 

You were right then, and it still held up now. 

So, no…he wouldn’t go in there, into your room. The truth was, he couldn’t. 

But Ben’s awareness prickled before he noticed, Frank had joined him. Ben tolerated it. While he wanted to be alone, maybe part of him (one he wouldn’t acknowledge) craved some kind of company. 

“You’ll get paid, don’t you fucking worry,” he said dryly. 

“That’s not the only reason I’m here,” Frank said. 

It felt like a confession. Ben didn’t reply though; he was focused on your pale face, covered by the breathing mask. Shallow puffs of air fogged the inside of it while your heart monitor clipped on.

“There’s another solution here,” Frank said. 

Ben gave him a cursory side glance. “She wouldn’t take Compound V. Not even to save her fucking life.”

“That didn’t stop you before,” Frank mentioned. 

Ben didn’t answer, but he’d been internally debating it ever since he’d spoken with the surgeon. 

“All right, get it over here,” he said. “The temporary stuff.” 

Frank rose a brow. He’d been curious enough to try testing the man. But now, he frowned.

“She won’t forgive you,” he pointed out. 

“What’re you, devil’s fucking advocate? She’ll get the fuck over it,” Ben snapped. 

But after his initial anger subsided…he knew his subordinate was right. 

“She’ll be alive to hate me,” he said, more honestly.  

Frank inclined his head. “There could be another way.” 

Ben glanced over at him. 

“She lost a lot of blood,” Frank said. Ben frowned.  

“They’ve given her fucking blood transfusions—” 

“Yeah, normal blood. A supe’s blood is stronger. Yours could probably heal her,” Frank said. “But, the only one who can break your skin is you.”

Ben eyed him in suspicion. “Who told you that?” 

“Read it somewhere,” Frank said evasively. 

Ben huffed in response, but as that realization truly sunk into his mind, his lips pressed together in new determination. He left Frank to start a brusque pace down the hall. 

He ignored the red-headed nurse calling at him at the reception desk when he shoved through a locked security door, into the OR unit. He searched until he found your surgeon and pulled him from the sink he was washing his hands in.

The man gasped with fright, though he tried to hide it looking up at Ben. “What the hell’re you doing?”

“I’m making a donation,” said Ben. He raised a blunt nail to his wrist. “You better hurry the fuck up, because I’m about to open a vein.”

It was morning by the time another doctor returned to deliver an update on your progress: the “treatment” was working. Your wounds had knitted closed within an hour following the blood transfusion, and you no longer needed surgery. They had also x-rayed your leg and found that the bone was whole once again. Even your broken ribs had healed.

Ben nodded at the news. He didn’t respond, and just started walking down the hall. Grace, Annie, and M.M. stared after him with mixed reactions of confusion and curiosity. 

“Where are you going?” Annie asked. She was exhausted; all of them were. 

The supe ignored her though. M.M. shared a look with her before he decided to follow the man. 

Meanwhile, Ben once again stopped in the middle of the hallway when he was out of view. He took in a slow, steadying breath of relief, his fists clenching at his sides.

“Congratulations. After today, you’re gonna get your statue put back up,” M.M. said.

Ben turned around to stare back at the man, schooling his face into a stoic frown. 

“Yvette and her son are going to be fine, by the way,” M.M. added, as he crossed his arms.

Ben paused slightly at that, filing that information away with secret satisfaction. 

To M.M., he merely raised a brow. “You got something to say, or are you going to keep wasting my fucking time?”  

“You think saving one black kid makes you a hero?” M.M. asked, point blank. “Taking down Vought. Saving her. What does that all mean to you?”

Ben frowned in irritation. “Why the fuck do you care?”

“Just answer the question. Be honest for once in your motherfuckin’ life,” M.M. said. “Do you really think you’re a hero?”

Silence fell between them. 

Ben didn’t know what it was about this guy. Maybe it was his persistence, or the fact that he’d pulled you out of the rubble and got you to a hospital in time to save your life. 

But Ben actually considered the question.

Killing Stan Edgar and Black Noir. Saving you. He’d done it all for selfish reasons. The kid…that was something else. His face stuck in Ben’s mind, how he’d trusted the superhero, like dumb kids were supposed to do.

But in that moment, carrying the tower on his back and knowing he was the only barrier between a mountain of hot rubble and this one kid…Ben hadn’t wanted to fail. 

And still. You are the reason I needed saving…

It wasn’t really saving the fucking day if he started it, was it?

Ben’s lips turned on a humorless smile. Still, he had saved the kid. And his mom. And you. For now, that was enough.

“Looks like I am,” said Ben.

But he met M.M.’s stare, briefly allowing him to glimpse beyond a wall of arrogance and pride.

And Ben walked away. M.M. watched him go in silent contemplation.

Grace intercepted Ben before he could visit you in the ICU. 

Christ. What the fuck now? he thought sourly. 

She gestured for a word, and with an annoyed look, he followed her down the hall.

“I’ll get to the point,” she said. “Butcher is sharing a floor with your girlfriend, down in Oncology.”

Ben raised a brow. That prick had cancer? Par for the fucking course, if he said so himself. 

“So?” he remarked. 

Grace sighed. She’d expected that reaction. “They’ve given him weeks, but the way he’s been pushing himself, more likely it’s days. Taking the untested Temp V long-term has had its adverse side effects…if you were to make another blood donation, I’ll make it worth your while.” 

So now his blood was some fucking wonder drug? Hell no, Ben thought. 

“You’re asking me to save the guy who’s double-crossed me, tried to hunt me down, tried to end me?” he said, with a dark, incredulous chuckle. “You can fuck right off, sweetheart.”

She grated at the sweetheart remark, but Grace leveled him with steely blue eyes.

“If it weren’t for me, you’d be on ice right now,” she pointed out. 

Ben’s lips pursed. He’d really like to snap this bitch’s fucking neck on principle…but then he thought about it. He could work this into his favor. 

“You know what. I’m having a good day, so maybe I’m feeling fucking generous,” he said. His mouth edged into a smirk. “But I think it’s time we renegotiated our contract. Don’t you?”

Grace stared up at him, and she inhaled a deep breath. 

“Fine.”

You slowly woke up in a hospital room, in a paper gown with an IV drip and a heart monitor. Which made sense, as the events of yesterday came back to you in a rush. 

But beyond feeling relieved to be alive, you also felt extremely well-rested. You didn’t feel like a building fell on you. 

What kind of masterful drugs are they giving me? You tried to read your chart on the wall, but you didn’t see any pain medication on there. 

Annie popped into your private recovery room. Her face brightened when she saw that you were awake. 

“Hey, hun! How do you feel?” she asked, lowering into a chair at your bedside. You wouldn’t know that this chair had been occupied by various members of the team over the past few hours, including M.M., Frenchie, Frank, and even Grace. 

“Great, actually,” you replied. But now you frowned. “I shouldn’t feel great.”

You remembered nearly being crushed under a pile of rubble. You remembered falling on a piece of rebar, and unable to move your crushed leg. You remembered the worry in Ben’s eyes… 

And panic stung at yours.

“Did they give me Compound V?” your voice shook when you asked. Annie calmed you down with a shake of her head and a reassuring hand on your arm. 

The door to your room opened once again. Ben’s frame filled up the doorway. When his eyes met yours, your breath caught in your throat. He was still in his supe suit, and with his hands resting on his belt, he strutted inside the room. 

M.M., Frenchie, Frank, Loco, and Kimiko came in behind him and at least looked showered. Ben looked like he hadn’t even done that much, nor slept all night.

“It wasn’t the V,” he said at last. “Just a little blood donation. Seemed to work like a charm.”

His resulting grin had a bit of charm in it as well. Your head tilted in confusion.

"Whose blood?" you asked.

"Mine," he said. His expression faded, slightly more serious.

You found yourself slowly smiling, though your brows still furrowed in surprise. He gave me his blood…instead of Compound V.

While you tried to wrap your mind around the gravity of that, you reached for the pitcher of water on the rolling tray beside you. You grasped the pitcher, but the plastic actually crunched in your hand. You gasped and moved your hand over so the water inside wouldn’t spill all over you.

Ben raised a brow. 

The room fell silent as all eyes stared at you. When the water finished pouring out onto the floor, you gently set it back down on the tray. 

“Seems you got some of his strength in the deal,” Annie remarked. 

“Great, there’s two of them,” Hughie quipped with a grin. 

“Well, that’s probably just temporary,” M.M. sighed. “Hopefully.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, and it brought a slight grin to Ben’s lips. 

After a bit of well wishing, everyone cleared out of your room to let you rest up…except for Ben, Frank, and Loco. 

“What are you guys going to do now?” you asked of the latter two. Loco cracked his knuckles. 

“Got another job lined up in private security,” he revealed. “I’ve lost the taste for drug running. Nearly lost a damn toe on the last one.”

You laughed. “Well, thanks for doing one more job here.”

“Anything for el Capitán,” Loco said, giving Ben a respectful nod. “He pays exceedingly well.”

You raised a brow at Ben, who shrugged with a cocky grin. Smiling, you turned to Frank, who was sitting in the chair beside your bed. 

“And you?” you asked. Frank gave you a rare smile. 

“Going home,” he said. “To my daughter.”

Your eyes began to sting, but you tried to blink away the beginnings of tears. You nodded and squeezed his arm. 

“Give her a big hug for me. And thank you again…for everything,” you said, even though you realized that thanking your former guard keep was strange. Still, there had been no part of your kidnapping that was normal in the least. 

Frank hesitated, but he covered your hand with his. 

Though he caught the way Ben’s face tightened, and Frank let go of you. He stood with Loco, giving you and Ben a final nod. Then the two men left your room and disappeared down the hall.

Part of you felt melancholy, like chapters of your life were closing. But you also felt like new ones were waiting in the wings.

Your gaze turned to Ben, who stood near your bed.

He was looking over your chart to see if the doctors needed anything else before you were discharged. But your soft voice called to him, earning his attention. You beckoned him closer.

He went over and sat down on the edge of your bed, laying a hand on your thigh. You reached out for his arm. 

“Thank you,” you said. 

Ben scoffed, though a hint of humor glinted in his eyes. “For what? Saving your reckless ass for the millionth time?”

“For saving Yvette and her son,” you replied with a smile. “And yeah, all that other stuff.” 

Your hand slid down his arm and slipped into his hand. Your fingers curled around his palm. 

“Really. Thank you…” 

Tears welled up in your eyes again. You still couldn’t fucking believe he opened up one of his own veins and gave you his blood. He gave a public hospital his blood in order to save you. 

He could’ve easily slipped you V24 again, or worse, the permanent stuff. But he didn’t just save you. He’d respected your wishes. 

What you wanted to say next got stuck in your throat.

Ben had something hiding behind his eyes, like he was reluctant to show you his real emotions. But when he focused on your face, his hand tightened on yours. His jaw clenched, but he didn’t speak. He only let go of your hand to brush a falling tear from your cheek. His lips twitched at a smile.

“Come on now, baby doll. You’re tougher than that.”

You choked on a laugh as more of your tears slipped down your warming cheeks. “Nope. I’m actually not.”

“Hmm. Could’ve fooled me,” Ben said. You matched his grin with a beaming smile of your own.  

Slowly, you pushed yourself up and took his dirty face in your hands. You guided him down to you, and you pressed your lips to his. 

He allowed it with his usual demanding, fervent kiss. But then it slowed. He held your wrist to keep your hand in place on his cheek, and his thumb drew bath and forth over your skin. 

You parted from him, pulling back enough to see his face. There was so much you wanted to say…but maybe right now, it was too much. 

You met him with another tearful kiss.

Before you were officially discharged from the hospital, you had one more visitor. 

Grace was once again there to debrief you. This time though, Ben sat at your side on the bed, a silent statue who regarded the woman coolly. He seemed to be tolerating her presence with more ease than usual, and you wondered why.

“You’re going on medical leave,” she informed you. “For three months, and then a psychiatrist will need to clear you for duty.”

Part of you wanted to argue, considering you were completely healed of your injuries. But you knew you needed a break from the S.A.—from all of this. 

“Your mother and sister will be brought out of witness protection soon, after we determine that the threat is sufficiently neutralized,” she said. “You can return home today as well.”

You could finally go back to your apartment…though the thought didn’t call to you as much as it should have. You glanced over at Ben.

“Is this the part where you try to ship him back to Colombia?” you asked. 

“That was the agreement,” Grace said wryly. You frowned, trying to blink away the tears forming once again in your eyes.

You didn’t want to lose him, but you also didn’t want to give up your life here. You didn’t want to leave the S.A., or your family, or your friends. Ben put you out of your misery, however.

“We renegotiated,” he said. 

Your eyes widened. “What?”

Grace explained, “In exchange for his assistance in another case, he can stay in the U.S. on a trial basis. As long as he agrees to live within the law.”

You didn’t entirely trust Grace. Ben would be watched at every moment. That was a given, but considering he still didn’t have full control over his nuclear power, you were surprised Grace would allow him free roam within U.S. borders. 

“And, provided, he agrees to a relocation. Preferably not in a densely populated area,” Grace added.

There it is, you frowned. You shared a look with him, and you could see he wasn’t entirely on board with this. You had no doubt he’d agreed to her demands by lying through his teeth. 

You turned back to Grace.

“What if he becomes a contractor for Supe Affairs,” you proposed. “There may be some fallout after Vought’s collapse, and more of their records to go through. Other labs to clear out. Ben would be a lot of help, if he’s willing.”

You glanced at Ben again. He met your eyes, then Grace’s, and he nodded marginally. He was getting bored of the heat in South America anyway. 

Grace heaved a sigh. Ben’s lips formed a smirk. 

“Oh, relax. I just ended Vought. You’d be an idiot not to cash in on that PR,” he pointed out. 

“Need I remind you that you caused the tower’s collapse?” Grace said tersely. “And you did not end Vought. There will be repercussions to this, believe me.”

Ben’s face tightened, but you grasped his hand. 

“But he fulfilled the mission,” you said. “He took out Black Noir…and Stan Edgar in the process.”

“The idea was to arrest him, but I get your point,” Grace said. Her hand raised to cover her mouth as she thought about your proposal.

Eventually, she spoke. “If you can play by our rules, then we’ll contract with you. But until you get that atomic bomb under control, you can’t remain the city. Upstate is the best I can do.”

Ben chafed at being told what he couldn’t do. What the fuck was he going to do in Upstate New York? Slowly rot to death in dusty-ass suburbia?

You shot him a knowing look, raising a brow. 

“It’s a fair offer, Ben,” you pointed out. His lips pursed in annoyance. But he glanced at your hand in his.

Then he looked up at Grace. “Fine. But first, unfreeze my fucking bank accounts.”

Ben later led you out of the hospital. There was a car waiting outside, and he got in to drive, despite you offering. He must’ve been going on very little sleep, if any over the past two days. 

And of course, he’d refused to be seen at all medically, saying he was fine. You were still concerned about that destabilizing gun Black Noir had shot him with. 

“I’m fine,” Ben had claimed. “Just need some sleep, that’s all.”

You watched his profile for a moment, and a smile started to raise your lips…until you finally remembered something that felt like a heavy stone in your stomach.

“Um…” you said, earning Ben’s attention. You looked up at him. “My father’s dead…”

Good fucking riddance, was Ben’s initial reaction. Followed by a frown, as he now realized he would never get the pleasure of choking the shit out of Jon himself. 

Ben had been fucking livid to learn from Frank that you’d been left alone in the Tower with your father while it was coming down (and Ben was petty enough to dock that little slip up from Frank’s pay). Had that asshole lived, Ben wouldn’t have put it past him to try and take you with him after escaping the building. The mere thought grated on him. 

“Black Noir killed him,” you said, heaving a shaky breath. 

That cut through Ben’s thoughts. He glanced over, watching you fight some conflicting emotions. 

“…Punched a hole straight through his chest,” you added.

Ben hummed in acknowledgement. You turned to him with a raised brow and glassy eyes. When he realized you were expecting a bit more from him, his lips pursed.

“Well, he got a quick death,” he said. ���Better than he fucking deserved, far as I’m concerned.”

You sighed and leaned your head back on the head rest. Your eyes closed. 

“Goddamn it, Ben.”

Ben eyed you with a deepening frown. “What the fuck do you expect me to say?”

“How about some decency?” you asked, as a tear fell down your cheek. “He tried to apologize. But I wouldn’t let him.”

He paused at that. While he thought you were being unreasonable, it begrudgingly dawned on him what you wanted, and maybe, what you needed. He sighed through his nose. Even now, you were a handful.

Ben reached over, taking your hand from your lap. He pressed the back of it to his lips, earning your mild surprise.  

“That’s not your fault,” he said. And he briefly took his eyes off the road to look into yours. “None of it was. You understand me?”

Your face softened. Though you tried to blink away your tears, a few of them still fell. You wiped at them with your free hand, while the other squeezed around his fingers, resting against your thigh. Despite how you were fracturing inside, warmth still kept you afloat. 

So you looked up at Ben, and you nodded. He seemed satisfied by your answer. He turned back fully to the road, but you kept a tight hold of his hand. He allowed it.   

“We’ll have to go to the safe house to get our stuff,” you said eventually, with a small sniffle.

“No need,” Ben said. “That’s taken care of.”

That confused you. Was he taking you to your apartment then? 

But instead, he drove you out of the city, and an hour upstate into Scarsdale. You’d never been there, but you knew it by reputation—as one of the most affluent towns in the state.

You were even more confused when he drove down a street flanked by tall hedges within a private community. He pulled into a circular driveway in front of an immense white house, with a red brick roof, colonial architecture, a manicured lawn, complete with matching fountains lining the front door.

Ben parked the car and encouraged you to get out with him. You followed him up to the front porch, expecting an old billionaire to pop out of the tall bushes at any moment to chase you away. 

“What’re we doing here?” you asked. His hands fell to the belt of his supe suit as he surveyed the stood, the door, and the walls for anything amiss. 

“I’m looking into buying it,” he revealed, as if he’d just told you, It’s pretty fucking sunny today, huh? 

“Our stuff is ready to be shipped out when the deal closes with the owner,” he added.

Your eyes flew wide. “What? When did you have time to scope out houses?” 

You’d only been discharged about an hour after the conversation with Grace. 

“I had Frank look into some shit. He found this one,” Ben shrugged. “Could use some work, but not bad.”

Our stuff, you repeated in your mind. This house…was he trying to recreate what the two of you had in Medellin?

And more importantly, was this his way of asking you to move in with him? 

Well, there’s not too much asking going on, you thought in annoyance. And yet, you blushed; the sentiment in itself was enough to warm you. 

You brought Ben back down to Earth by grasping his hands, earning his attention from the old grout in the tile.

“Ben, this place is amazing,” you said. “But I don’t know if I’ll be comfortable living like this.”

He frowned down at you. “What the hell do you mean? You could have anything you want here. It’s safe. Got plenty of room—”

“A bit too much room,” you said, holding up your thumb and forefinger a couple inches apart. 

He looked adorably grumpy. You smiled and squeezed his hand. 

“Did you really feel cozy and at home in that mansion with fifty rooms and nobody in ‘em?” you asked.

He didn’t answer you, and he didn’t seem happy either. You didn’t want him to take this as a rejection. 

“If we’re going to do this,” you said, “then can we start a little smaller? Somewhere that feels like home to both of us?”

Ben stared back at you in annoyance. “You need to broaden your palate.”

You just managed to stop yourself from laughing.

“You haven’t had a normal home in a long time, Ben,” you replied. Maybe ever, you realized. “How about you trust me?” 

He gave you a dubious frown.

“What about this,” you tried. “Let’s pick it out together! If in a few months you still hate the new place, we’ll try it your way.” 

“You’re assuming we’re gonna make it that long.” Ben was starting to wonder if this was going to work after all. The two of you were from very different worlds. 

You offered a cheeky smile. “I’m optimistic.”

He huffed. “Sure.” 

You reached up on your toes, and gripped the front of his suit when you leaned up to kiss him. His hands rose naturally to hold you, resting on your jean-clad hips. He followed your languid kiss, his furrowed brows relaxing when you touched his cheek.

When you broke from his lips, his eyes opened to find yours. 

“I am, Ben,” you said more seriously. “I’m not playing games. This is real to me, and I want to be with you.” 

But then you hesitated. You lowered back down to your feet. 

“But if it’s not to you…if you’re just passing time with me, until you get bored,” you said, “tell me now. Please.” 

It was Ben’s turn to hesitate. It was the please that got to him, along with your downturned gaze. He captured your chin between his fingers and raised your face up to him. 

“I’m not fucking around,” he said. “I want you to live with me.” 

Your smile was soft and bright when you took his hand. Ben wouldn’t admit it, but something in his chest stuttered to life then.

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “Let’s do it.”

AN: *squeals* It's happening! We've really gotten here, folks. How'd you like how it all wrapped up with Grace, M.M., and even Butcher?

But we're not quite there with these two yet...

Next Time:

“Why’re you nagging me like a goddamn wife?” he snapped.

“Wife?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “You don’t even call me your girlfriend.”

But God forbid another man even smile in your direction. Ben was possessive, protective, and claimed with all but words that you were his. And yet, he wouldn’t say it.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was afraid of commitment, but you’d been living together for six damn months.

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[kingdaddydaichi]

One of my favorite stories I’ve ever read is “Lessons Learned”. So I would like to request something similar with a mixture of Hard dom/ Brat tamer Bakugou ❤️‍🔥 Take it in whatever direction you want, I know I’ll enjoy it however it ends up 😏

@ssplague, bestieeee! Tysm! 🥺💕 I'm sooooo fucking sorry it took me so long to answer your ask! It made me weak the first time I read it! I've got so many other wips I should probably be working on rn, but I finally said FUCKIT! I nEED this in my life rn!

I LOVED writing Lessons Learned - god! It was hard to get through tho. Nearly every time I sat down and started working on it, it always ended the same way and that's all I'ma say rn! 😈

Yes. I see your HardDom!BratTamer!Bakugou and raise you Jealous!Exhibitionist!Bakugou. 💅🏼💋

I hope it's worth the wait...

MINORS 👏🏼 DO 👏🏼 NOT 👏🏼 INTERACT 👏🏼

The Performance 💥 HardDom!BratTamer!Jealous!Exhibitionist! Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader 💥 NSFW

Warnings: slight dubcon, Dom/sub dynamic, possessive dynamic, exhibitionism, marking, circle jerk, creampie, absolute filth

Word Count: 2.9k

It was half past 9 when he walked through the door at the well-to-do club where you'd been enjoying down time with some of your friends. He kissed your cheek and sat down in the half-circle booth next to you, putting his warm, athletic arm over your bare shoulders.

"How long you been waitin'?"

"Maybe an hour?"

He looked down, grumbling. "Got here as soon as I could". He glanced at you with his bottom lip poking out.

You propped your cheek on your hand and smiled at him, rubbing his arm. "I know, babe. It's perfectly fine, I understand".

"Ay, Bakubro! You finally made it!", Kiri yelled from across the table.

Katsuki snarled at him. "Yeah! Some of us have to actually work for a living!"

At that very moment, the cocktail waitress stopped by the table to take Katsuki's order and Mina yelled, "Yes please, for the love of god, get that man a drink!"

He growled at her before turning back to the waitress. "Four fingers of whiskey straight, no chaser".

She scampered off and everyone fell into the chatter and laughs they'd been sharing when Katsuki arrived.

💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

You were on your way back to the table from the restroom when you felt fingers against your elbow and a voice behind you say, "Hey, (y/n)!"

"Oh hey!" It was a young man a few years younger than yourself who worked in the same office building as you. "Fancy seeing you here". He appeared to be with a couple of friends judging by the prying eyes peering from behind him, smirking.

"I know, right? I've been here a few times, but I don't think I've seen you here before".

"Really? I come here quite regularly and I've seen you here before".

"Oh, I'm sorry, I guess I just haven't been paying attention".

"Don't worry about it! I just thought I'd say hi this time".

"I'm glad you did! Maybe I'll see you again the next time I'm here". You waved your fingers at him and started back towards your table again only to see Katsuki's eyes about to burst into flames as he watched you approach.

When you sat down, he leaned in. "Who's he?"

You waved him off. "Just a guy who works in the same building as I do".

"What did he want?"

"Nothing, just wanted to say h-"

"Bullshit". He placed his hand over your thigh under the table. "When a guy looks at a woman the way he was looking at you, trust me baby, he wants something". His large, rough hand squeezed the meat of your thigh beneath it. It hurt and you gripped his wrist in an effort to keep the whine in the back of your throat from escaping. The rest of your party was too close in proximity...at least one or two of them would've heard you. "I don't like it when other guys look at you like that". He dragged his fingers upward, taking the hem of your skirt along with them.

"Katsuki, get ahold of yourself. They're just looking...it's not like they're touching me".

He put his mouth to your ear. "Fuck it. Let 'em look". His hand moved further up your skirt, parting your legs enough that you could feel the cold draft of air against your dampening panties. "It'll just give me every reason I need to show them who you belong to".

His eyes shifted away from yours and you followed them to see what he was looking at. The guy who had just been flirting with you was watching as your husband's hand worked between your legs. His eyes flicked to Katsuki’s whose dark, lopsided, toothy grin spread across his handsome face, pleased that he was making himself clear to the other man that he had already laid his claim on you.

His pinky grazed your clothed, wet slit and you squirmed in your seat, trapping his hand between your thighs hoping it would make him relent. "Stop it, Katsuki", you growled at him.

But he twisted his wrist until he was able to push your panties aside with two of his fingers. He sank said fingers between your inner folds, coating them with your clear slick before curling them upwards to flick them over your hardening clit. You shuddered under his touch as he locked eyes with the other man, making sure he was watching when Katsu raised his fingers to his mouth, sucking them both off at once.

You glanced down to see Katsuki's cock pushing against the fabric of his slacks, tight against him in his sitting position. Showing other men that you belonged to him had always put him in a rut. You used the situation to your advantage and knowing he wouldn't follow you with a half, but nevertheless large, erection for everyone to see, you stood up in one fluid movement, turning away from him and strutting to the bar.

As you waited for the busy bartender to take your order, you noticed the rather strapping gentleman who stood beside you, looking down at his glowing phone screen.

"What can I get for you ma'am?"

You looked back at the bartender, who'd finally spoken to you. "Oh, um- (favorite drink)-"

"On me", the man beside you said.

"Yes sir", the bartender said before turning to his task.

You looked again at the handsome man beside you - taller than Katsuki, but he didn't exude quite the same confidence he did. Then again, not many people did.

"Thank you, you didn't have to do that".

"I know". He gave you a smug, sidelong look. "I wanted to".

You tried to hide your smile, but fuck. His sexiness could easily go head to head with Katsuki's. You watched his eyes travel from your face down to your toes and back up again. You could almost feel your possessive husband's fiery eyes burning a hole in your back.

You turned to face the gentleman beside you, glancing over at the blond in the process. When you focused your gaze back to the man beside you, Katsuki stood up and started stalking towards you. His dick still wasn't completely soft yet, but he didn't care. He probably wanted the man next to you to see the bulge in his pants, using it to his advantage during the impending exchange at the bar. Not many men had a bigger cock than Katsuki and he knew it.

He wrapped his arm around your waist, squaring his hips off at the other man, most likely willing him to notice his size. "Let's go".

You pushed back against him. "Stop Katsu, I'm not ready to go yet".

He locked eyes with the man beside you and put his mouth right up next to your ear. "Would you prefer I fuck you right here on this bar to show everyone who your slutty pussy belongs to? Because I will! You're already wet and aching for my cock, aren't you, pretty girl?"

He was NOT bluffing. You knew your Dom. It had only taken him once before to show you that he was not above covertly pulling his dick out and pushing it inside your hot cunt while standing behind you at a crowded bar, much like the one you were standing at now.

The bartender sat your drink down on a small napkin, but Katsuki pushed it back to him and said, "Oi! Throw this one out and make her another one". He glared at the taller man beside you. "ALL of her drinks are on me, got that?"

He slid two thick fingers inside the plunging neckline of that little black number you wore, carding your hard nipple between them as he rutted his hips against your bottom. "Well?"

A part of you wanted him to fuck you then and there with the other man watching. But you'd never let it actually go that far. "Katsu, please go sit down and I'll be over after I get my drink since I have to wait longer for it now". You rolled your eyes.

He leaned back, his vermillion eyes searching yours until they locked onto the feminine form brushing past your shoulder. He reached out and stopped the cocktail waitress in her tracks, leaning down to her ear, whispering something. Without another word, he calmly walked away and sat back down at the table.

Stubborn as you were, you held your position at the bar. A couple of minutes later, out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement near the table where Katsuki was seated. The same waitress was now leaning down and whispering in his ear, her lips less than an inch from his face. He caught your gaze and smirked before turning his face towards hers. For a second it looked like he might actually kiss her. You were relieved for about half a second when she stood up and started walking away from him, only to watch him stand up as well and follow her up the stairs into the private VIP area.

Now it was your head that was about to explode. I know he did NOT just invite a fucking cocktail waitress to the VIP so he can fuck her! He turned the tables faster than a cheap hooker turns tricks on the streets of Vegas. You knew how other females looked at him. Hell, males too! That girl was probably 10 years your junior too, barely old enough to be serving alcohol. And now you watched as she led your husband up the stairs.

Drink forgotten, you marched your pretty, indignant ass right up to the 2nd level, ready to snatch a bitch up by her hair only to find Katsuki sitting on the couch, alone.

"Seems you're a petty, jealous asshole too".

Relieved, you plopped down on the couch next to your faithful husband, putting your arm over his waist as he pulled you in and kissed your forehead.

You lowered your head to his chest only to notice once again that his cock was pressing against the confines of his pants. You stroked him through the rough material as he raised up, pushing his erection closer to you, physically begging for more of your touch. You palmed him a couple more times before unzipping his slacks and pulling his cock out. He wasn't fully hard yet, but if you had anything to do with it, he was going to be standing at full attention in less than a minute.

You lowered your head further and pushed some spit through your ruby lips onto the angry head of his dick. He watched as you lowered your mouth and swirled your tongue around the smooth texture of his tip before sinking your lips down around him, taking as much of him into your mouth as possible. Not easy, but you're a blow job champ determined to take all of it for the team.

Only a couple of minutes passed by when Katsuki pulled you off his cock. You raised your lusty gaze to see the two men who'd flirted with you standing side-by-side, eyes as big as half dollars at the sight of your tits hanging out of your dress with a fat string of saliva hanging from your bottom lip. Your face snapped to Katsuki who had a shit-eating grin on his face. "What the fuck, Katsuki? Why are they here?"

"Because I had them brought here to watch and see under no uncertain terms who the fuck you belong to!"

Your protest was cut short when Katsuki flipped your body around so that you were facing the back of the couch. He pushed your skirt up around your waist and hooked your soaking panties with his thumb, pushing them aside and holding them against your ass cheek. "I suggest you hold onto something, you bratty cockslut!"

"Baby, no, I don't want them to see-". You averted your eyes from theirs.

Katsuki gave his thick cock a couple of strokes before pushing the head against your weeping entrance.

"Katsuki, you can't-". Your words failed you as he sank his meaty cock inside you.

He looked over at the audience of two, who were enraptured as they watched your husband pull himself nearly all the way out before gliding himself in balls deep again. He set a rhythm, making sure that the two guys who'd had the audacity to flirt with you could see the striations of your slick along his length as he fucked you. The younger of the two, the office boy, had been palming himself through his pants.

"Oh my god, Katsu! They're watching us!"

"I know, that's the fucking point!" Maintaining his pace, he looked at them. "You understand now that she's mine?"

Their mouths moved, but no sound came out. Katsuki pounded his thighs against you harder, a sharp clap ringing through all 8 ears. "Answer me!" The taller man's erection was now evident through the fabric of his pants.

"Y-yes, I un-understand", one of them mustered while the other one could only nod.

Katsuki's wet balls were slapping your clit now, and you whimpered "Katsu? Baby?"

He wrapped your hair around his fist, ignoring your mewl. He never broke eye contact with the men who'd made passes at you. "Tell her who the fuck she belongs to".

The younger one had pulled his cock through his open zipper, jerking off his smaller dick with his eyes locked on the point where your body met your husband's.

"Look at her!", Katsuki commanded. Both pairs of eyes met yours, their dry mouths hanging open. "SAY IT!"

They both jumped. "Y-you...belong to h-him", said the younger man who had been jacking off.

"The name's fucking Bakugou! Fucking say it!"

The same guy said, "You b-belong to B-Bakugou!"

By this time the taller man had pulled his dick out too, much larger than that of the other guy, but he still didn't hold a candle to Katsuki.

Katsuki's eyes darted to his. "Say my fucking name!" Your pussy was sucking him hard and his voice nearly cracked.

"B-Bakugou..."

"That's right...Bakugou. It's her last name too, you fucking beta. Don't you ever forget!"

The man's eyes drifted over to your pussy just in time to see the pink ring of flesh around your husband's cock begin an undulating cycle of flexing and relaxing. "Nnn-Katsu! G-gonna cum!"

Your thighs tightened and your hips stopped rocking back against Katsuki's, but the clamping down of your vaginal walls only got stronger as you unraveled around your husband's weighty cock.

He pulled back on the fistful of your hair, still plunging himself deep within your quivering cunt. Smarmy as ever, he looked at the taller man again. "Who does this fucking pussy belong to?"

"Y-you! I-I mean, Bakugou!"

"You're goddamn right it fucking does". Katsuki's groan escaped on the tail end of his words.

You could feel his cock tensing up inside you, such was his size. "Katsu?" Your body had turned to putty as you tried to hold onto what little shred of dignity you had left. "Cum for me, Katsu!", you whimpered.

"Why the fuck should I?"

"C-uz I want y-ou to mark m-e!" Your eyeliner smeared across the leather material of the couch cushion.

"That's a good a reason as any", he said before shifting his eyes away from the small circle jerk and back down to you. "Ah fuck, baby, yeah. I'll fucking mark you alright!" His eyes darted back up to that of his audience. "Gonna make sure my musk saturates you so they can fucking smell me on you!"

Drool seeped from your open mouth against the cream-colored leather. Your tits swayed and your ass cheeks rippled from the sheer force of Katsuki's relentless thrusts.

"Ah fuck, baby, gonna fill you up with my seed! So fucking full of it you're not going to be able to hold it all in!" Katsuki's hips snapped against your ass one last time before locking up, his ass flexing, relaxing, flexing, relaxing, flexing.

The younger man who'd been jacking off whined quietly as he blew his load onto the carpet beneath him.

"Nn fuck", the taller one groaned.

Finished with his orgasm, Katsuki pulled his cock out, bouncing under its own weight. He pulled your hips around to put on display the creampie he'd left behind inside you. The taller man, still tugging on his cock, watched as your pussy clenched, causing some of Katsuki's seed to ooze out of you and drip onto your ankle. That's all he could take and he came rather loudly, his cum nearly hitting you on the first release, such was the power behind it.

Katsuki frowned at both of them. "She's fucking mine. Don't you ever fucking forget it. Now...get the fuck OUT!"

They barely got their sticky, softening cocks back in their pants before retreating downstairs to no doubt go straight to their respective homes and have existential crises because they just orgasmed while watching another man fuck and cum inside an attractive woman. Porn was one thing, but Katsuki's show of dominance had hit different. And they had to wonder if they were wrong for it somehow.

Meanwhile, your husband helped you pull yourself together at least enough to make it to the car to take you home.

And with the privacy window partially cracked open, the driver was able to watch as Katsuki lapped up both your fresh slick for him, as well as his own seed as it continued to leak out.

[hotwings0203]

now we need a part 4 with izuku and bakugo on what happens next to the poor reader 😩✋🏼

Aight imma do a two for one here so MASSIVE BET

Tw:noncon, gangbang

When your hand reaches the doorknob, you know something is off only half a millisecond before another large hand settles itself on your wrist and another one caressing your side.

You freeze immediately at the voices that croon and snarl to you.

“Open the door quietly and we don’t have to make this any more difficult than it’s already gonna be.”

“God, you smell so good. You still haven’t changed your shampoo even after all these weeks huh? I like it.”

Your hand starts to shake and your body starts to sweat as you wildly try to find a way out of this situation. The voices sound eerily familiar, with one being higher and the other more aggressive and raspy, but you don’t dare turn around to locate the faces.

One of them seems to be catching onto your hesitation, because your wrist is crushed underneath a hard grasp and you cry out softly as they growl.

“Open. This. Fucking. Door. Right now.”

It takes a good 15 more seconds to jimmy the lock open, and once you do all three of you go tumbling in.

You whip back around to see both men standing over you, merely watching you with crossed arms and equally perverse leers.

“D-deku? Bakugo? What’s going on?”

Deku practically bounces on the balls of his feet, itching with inappropriate anticipation for what’s to come.

“We wanted to play with you! Are you ready? You can’t fucking ignore me anymore!” His voice is cheery as always but it breaks when he curses, the strains in his vocal cords sticking out while he forces himself from holding back.

Bakugo steps forward.

“Didnt I tell you I was gonna come again for you, you teasing cunt? Didn’t I say to watch your back? Now look at you, sprawled on the floor like rapetoys should be.”

Both men start slowly uncrossing their arms and advance towards you.

“No-no please, why? I didn’t do anything to you! Deku, please!” You blubber as you scuttle backwards, their strides equally as long.

You continue evading them as they play around with you.

“Oh, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those words. ‘Deku, please.’ Although, I’d very much rather you moan it for me.” He has the audacity to blush, and then Bakugo interjects.

“You deserve this y’know, so don’t start crying now. We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet.” He spreads his hands and his uncharacteristic grin stretches from ear to ear, his vermillion eyes flashing in the dim light of your dorm.

“Anyone whose stupid enough to not realize how this creep has been sniffin’ your panties for months-hell, maybe even years now should get raped. You’re so fucking stupid, you didn’t realize I was protecting you from him.”

“But now look at you. Alone, afraid, vulnerable…oh, and going to the bedroom. You really are an easy slut, huh?”

Deku’s eyes light up when he realizes you truly are unknowingly backing up into the bedroom, but you realize it too late.

It’s only after Bakugo’s words come out that you try to look for a detour for the lock-induced bathroom, but Deku has a different idea.

Out of pure excitement he laughs and sprints towards you, hands outreached to touch your pretty skin, mouth open with drool softly filling the tile below him and eyes bloodshot with lust.

He looks like a creature from hell, and in the pure terror of watching him come at you like that your plan to detour was thwarted and you mindlessly trip back over your feet onto the bed, scrambling as far away as you can from them to the headboard.

You look to your left and quickly seize your bedside lamp, raising it above your head.

“Domt come any closer you closer perv. God, I shouldve known you were fucked in the head. I kept trying to make excuses for you, I thought you were my friend-“ you break down in sobs as the green haired man continues looking at you like you’re a piece of meat, absentmindedly wiping his hand across his mouth.

“And you,” you point to Bakugo who bares his teeth and smirks madly, “I already knew you were the embodiment of hell, but I thought you had a limit of how low you could stoop. You didn’t protect me from shit, you forced your way inside of me day in and day out.”

“Well now that your useless little monologue is over, Deku, tie her legs to the posts. I swear Y/N, you’re making this way too easy for me. It’s almost boring, I already know what I’m gonna get.” He raises his eyebrows at you while he lets his minion do all the work for him, goosebumps racing up his arm at the sight of you screaming and fighting tooth and nail against your fate.

But at the end of the day, after all your curses and sobs and monologues, you’re no match for either of them, especially Deku, who cooes at you to scream louder while he caresses your face and uses nylon string to secure your wrists to the wooden posts. Your legs are also bound after Bakugo seizes them from kicking, and a gag is placed over your mouth by his hands.

He roughly taps the tape covering your trembling lips and smiles condescendingly down at you.

“You’re doing so well for us, rapemeat. Keep up the good work and try to spread those legs as much as you can.” He chuckles when you scream your lungs out, thrashing as he yanks your knees apart.

“Aw, Kacchan, can’t we take the gag off? I wanted to hear her in my ears,” he pouts and looks glumly at your writhing figure.

“No, how fucked in the head are you? Someones gonna come down if she’s hollering for the whole building to hear. And cut her clothes off, I’m getting impatient.”

It seems like Deku too was at his last fiber of self control as his hands shake equally as much as yours, except for an entirely different reason altogether, the opposite reason of yours in fact.

He fishes in his back pockets for something, and produces a glinting steel knife with a black handle.

You still immediately as his descends his hands to the top of your v-neck shirt, right above your collarbones. His eyes fog up as your satiny smooth skin comes in contact with the blade, the coldness of the steel sending shivers down your spine and making you sob harder.

“Kacchan…did you ever get a taste of her blood? How does she taste?” He lifts his head to look into your tear-streaked eyes, but he addresses his childhood friend.

Bakugo snorts. “Calm down Toga, don’t get too crazy yet. We’ll have some more fun later, right now my dick is about to explode. ‘Need a hole,” he mumbles at the end and finally clambers onto the bed right atop your legs.

You stay absolutely silent as pressure from the knife rips the thin strands of your clothes apart, and Deku takes careful care to ensure you at least have thin red lines running down your stomach if not for actual blood.

“Oh fuckkkk,just look at her. You look good enough to eat…” he looks at you and licks his lips, salivating when you whine and twist at your restraints.

“Yeah yeah, you do whatever the fuck you want. Just choose what you’re gonna stick it in and hurry up.”

The blond looks bored almost as the more eager one whips to the side to face him.

“You mean it Kacchan? I can pick?”

They speak as if you’re not alive, no feelings or humanity involved. All you can do is watch and yell into your makeshift gag as the blond waves him off.

“Go for it. It’s your first time satisfying that sick head of yours, ‘must get boring doing it from behind a screen all the time.”

His slowly turns to face you, a kind leer etched across his features, eyebrows slanted and hand coming up to pull your ripped clothes apart.

You struggle and spit muffled profanities out as he slowly drags the bridge of your bra down, eyes wide open as your nipples pop out and eventually both of your tits bounce out.

He hisses and takes his nails up your stomach to fondle your breast. You can tell Deku’s too excited, too inexperienced from the way he handles them like stress balls. You grunt as his mouth latches onto a pert nipple, suckling and looking up at you as if he were some kind of demonic baby.

Bakugo watches all this with a dark glint in his eyes, absentmindedly palming himself as he watches the show unfold in front of him.

It’s entertaining seeing all of the creep’s hormones spiral out of control from years of pent-up lust. He’s never seen the dork so fired up and hungry, he’s never seen him so brutal with a civilian before, the type of people he used to say he’d protect at all costs.

After he’s done playing with your sore tits, he wasted no time in yanking your sweats off. You don’t even trash around anymore, the only thing you’re capable of in this state of terror and shock is weak moans and little sobs, maybe a writhe or two here and there.

Your panties are also torn off and you howl when the elastic cuts into your skin within the process. Bakugo takes this last stripping as an indication for him to move now. He lifts himself up on his knees and moves around your head while Deku situates himself between your violently twitching legs.

“I’m gonna take the gag out now. If you scream or pull any funny business I’ll plug your pussy and your throat with this knife, got it?” He snatches the weapon from the bed and waves it dangerously close to your face.

You nod frantically and try to turn your head to the side, but he yanks you back into place and decides to have his own fun.

While Izuku hurriedly takes his own shorts off the hothead slowly takes the tape off your mouth, staring down at you with unblinking eyes. The knife which you’re so afraid of is traced around your own squeezed shut eyes, down your cheeks and around your lips.

But the horrified trance on which he keeps you in is broken when Izuku suddenly shoved his entire length inside your dry cavern.

Luckily Bakugo has enough foresight to slam a hand over your howling mouth before the entire building can be woken up, and he glares at the sheepish-looking man down the bed from him.

“Are you a fucking virgin? At least rub her clit or something so she doesn’t go hollering at every thrust you damn nerd!”

The man between your legs winces and rubs the back of his neck, chuckling nervously.

“Oops, sorry, got a little carried away there.”

He doesn’t pull out, he merely thrusts slower, trying to fit his fat dick inside your unwilling cunt.

A string of curses leaves your lips and you grimace as the pain becomes near blinding.

Bakugo looks down at you again, the knife forgotten.

“No teeth either.” Your breaths come out in little frantic pants when his bare cock springs out of his own pants.

He taps the leaking purple tip on your lips and you open hesitantly. There’s no point in resisting anymore, they’ve got you quite literally cornered.

“Wider, slut,” he snarls, and you do-but only because Deku’s paps get more aggressive, causing your mouth to fall open in a long whine.

The blond takes this opportunity to slam his length down your throat, groaning around when he sees your throat swell with his bulge.

You immediately start gagging and trying to pull at your restraints for air, his heavy balls rest right on top of your nose and you feel like you’re going to pass out.

You can barely hear him over Deku’s animalistic grunts and whines. He’s going way too fast, as if he’s possessed by your pussy. It numbs you, taking away some of the pain in a flip side.

But on the other end of your body, you’re desperate for air while a fuzzy ballsack paps against your nose and eyes.

Each sadistic stroke he puts inside of you widens your sore esophagus, bringing bile up sometimes and large amounts of saliva too.

He’s not as loud as Deku, but he’s equally as greedy with your holes.

Your body literally hovers up almost in midair as Bakugo thrusts in and lifts his hips up, taking your upper half along with it and Deku does the same unconsciously, trying to fuck up into your womb.

It’s an exact replica of a perverted spit roast, with both of them catching each other’s rhythm and slamming inside your holes at the same time.

Your clit is suddenly rubbed inexpertly to the point of overstimulation, and the incoming sob forced out of your throat warps into a pained scream.

The vibrations of your scream makes Bakugo cum suddenly with a hoarse groan. He doubled over your body and gnaws at your bouncing tits, licking and teething at them the same way his counterpart did.

The sight of copious amounts of cum being leaked out of your filled mouth propels the green-haired man to whimper and shove himself back in one more time, hitting your cervix and causing both his and your eyes to roll back.

He cums too, but both men keep their semi-hard cocks inside of your aching body.

You don’t know what’s worse, having both of them by your side or both of them inside.

[queenshelby]

My Friend’s Father (Part Three)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut

Words: 2,947

Notes:

I have decided to make this into a series.

Alright, no judgment. This was a dream of mine and I felt like I had to write it down. Everyone in this Fic is over the age of 18 and this Fic is in no way based on Cillian’s real family life. It’s pure filth.

 *************************

Cillian’s POV

Shortly after Denise got home from her rather miserable date with Jeremy, Cillian went to bed. It was only 9 o’clock but he thought that he would spend some time finishing reading the book he had started to read two nights ago.

The problem was that, even when he tried hard to focus on the content of the book, he couldn’t.

His mind was overrun with guilt about what had happened between you all so suddenly and unexpectedly and he still wasn’t so sure why he had given into you so easily. It was almost like he had lost all of his self-control in that moment.

This kind of behaviour was unusual for him. Usually, he would have been more sensible than this. After all, he was 45 and never had a one-night stand in his entire life.

Would you share this with anyone?

Probably not, he thought. He had known you for a while and you weren’t the type of woman who was actively seeking attention. You were always somewhat nerdy and a bit of loner. For years, he had known you to be sensible and he always liked that you were looking out for his daughter Denise. You were more mature than her and were always somewhat shy and reserved.

With this in mind, he was even more surprised by your actions. You seducing him the way you did seemed out of character for you which made him nervous.

Did you have feelings for him?

He certainly hoped that you didn’t. For him, this was nothing but sex and he would hate to give you the feeling that it was something more. He didn’t want to hurt you.

He should never have given into you. He knew that it was wrong and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why he acted so selfishly because, in his mind, this was exactly what it was. An act of selfishness.

You were young and clearly inexperienced which made this whole thing even worse. It was obvious to Cillian that you hadn’t been with many men before and he felt as though he took advantage of you even despite the fact that you were the one who made a move on him. He should have stopped you.

The fact that he is seeing someone else in Manchester didn’t help either and, whilst it wasn’t anything serious or exclusive, it felt wrong to him to be intimate with you which, in his own mind, brought him to another dilemma all together.

Why didn’t he use protection when he slept with you?

He knew that he could have simply walked into his son’s bedroom and find what he needed. But he didn’t. Instead, he was so consumed by lust that he forgot all about the need to be play it safe. Of course, he always reminded his adult children about the importance of protection and yet, he failed to adhere to his own rules.

Whilst he knew that you didn’t have many sexual partners and any risk associated with contracting STDs was somewhat low, he worried that you weren’t on birth control.

Why on earth didn’t he at least ask you about it? Was it too late to ask you now? Why did you make him pull out?

WHAT THE FUCK HAD HE DONE???

He panicked and he knew he had to talk to you in order to ease his mind.

YOUR POV

After you listened to Denise about her date gone wrong and what an asshole Jeremy actually was, you also made your way to bed. You felt terrible for her but knew that she would meet someone else who would make her happy and treat her well.

But her date with Jeremy wasn’t the only thing you felt terrible about. Even more so, you felt terrible about sleeping with her father which you knew was wrong and yet, you tried to justify it in your head.

Why did you act so selfishly and gave into your sexual needs?

This was something you had never done before. You were rather careful when it came to getting yourself involved with guys.

You had taken a liking in your friend’s father several years ago when you were 19. But then, it was just a silly crush you thought.

When you heard about his divorce however, you began to fantasise about him in your sleep and this was simply a fantasy you had finally acted upon.

This, however, didn’t change the fact that he was your friend’s father.

Would she mind if she knew?

Maybe she wouldn’t. She might just think that you are disgusting for sleeping with her dad but, in the end of the day, you are two consenting adults.

Why couldn’t you stop even when you realised that what you were doing was wrong?

When you made the first move it was almost like you were in a trance. You were overwhelmed. You wanted every bit of it but you never experienced sex quite like this. It was intense and he certainly knew what he was doing.

Whilst Cillian was much older than you, you were extremely attracted to him. Everything about him was perfect in your mind and he felt incredible when he was inside you.

You wanted so much more and thought that, perhaps, if it was just sex, it wasn’t wrong after all.

Together Again

Just as those thoughts raced through your mind, you heard a quite knock on the door.

Thinking that it was Denise, you didn’t bother to cover up as you were sitting on the guest bed in black cotton panties and a tight cotton singlet.

To your surprise, however, it wasn’t Denise who walked into the guestroom when you called out ‘come in’. It was Cillian.

His chin dropped as soon as he saw you. For some reason, he took a liking in your rather simple but yet revealing outfit, your messy hair and your black framed reading glasses.

‘Hey’ you simply said shyly as he was standing there speechless.

‘Hey’ he responded, swallowing harshly before telling you that he needed to talk to you.

‘Sure’ you said, putting the magazine down which you were reading along with your reading glasses. Then, you scooted over on the bed and indicated to him to sit down next to you.

His scent was intoxicating. He was freshly showered and his hair was still wet but you could still smell a hint of his aftershave on him.

‘So, what do you want to talk about?’ you asked without bothering to cover up your naked skin and you could see Cillian’s mind working overtime while the tension was building.

‘About what happened between us’ he then stammered while he observed your eyes wandering towards where they shouldn’t. But, you couldn’t help it and, when you noticed that he was reacting to your presence, you bit your lips seductively.

‘What happened between us was just sex. It’s not a big deal. People have sex all the time and you can trust me Cillian. It will remain our little secret’ you said in a seductive voice while moving your hand over Cillian’s upper thigh, through the hairs on his exposed skin and then all the way towards the rim of his boxers.

‘Y/N’ he barely managed to stammer, swallowing harshly.

‘Yes Cillian?’ you then smirked, noticing the effect you were having on him and moving your hand farther up his legs and beneath his boxers where you began to stroke his cock.

‘You are so hard’ you then whispered as you received no response from him other than a groan and, just as you did, Cillian took hold of you and pushed you beneath him in one swift movement.

Without words, Cillian’s warm lips met yours in a passionate kiss. The kiss was more urgent than before and you loved the way he asserted his dominance as his tongue circled around yours.

He felt such desire for you that he thought he would explode and, whilst he was normally quite vocal, every word he tried to say and every question he was going to ask you, were caught in his throat.

Wrapping your arms round him you ran your hands up and down his firm back as your mouths ground together. Sucking on each other's lips and plunging your tongues into each other’s mouth.

You couldn’t believe how wonderful it was to be kissed in such an experienced, almost sophisticated way and Cillian was marvelling at how someone so young could have learned to kiss so well.

Within split seconds and in between heated kisses, Cillian’s t-shirt and your singlet landed on the floor.

It wasn’t long until Cillian’s mouth left yours and began to wander over your firm breasts and then all the way down to your stomach which is where they came to a halt.

He interlocked his fingers with your panties and pulled them down, letting them join the other clothes on the floor before his head gracefully disappeared in between your legs.

‘It goes without saying, but you need to be quiet’ Cillian chuckled and you barely managed to nod before you covered your own mouth with the palm of your hand as Cillian dipped his tongue straight into your wetness.

‘Oh god yes’ you whimpered quietly as the rasping roughness of his tongue slid along your velvety wetness and sent enormous tremors through you.

You had little experience of either, receiving or, giving oral sex. In your world of mainly inexperienced boys, it was hardly on the agenda as they were generally too keen to get their rocks off to worry overly about your pleasure. In any case in the usually rushed episodes in the back of cars or downstairs with parents in bed there was hardly the time let alone the opportunity for languid pussy licking or sensual cock sucking. In the world of the forty-five year-old man lying between your opened legs, however, it very much was on the agenda and he seemed to enjoy it just as much as you did.

You moaned loudly as you were holding Cillian’s head in both hands as he licked the length of your pussy. He did it slowly with just the right amount of pressure making sure that the tip of his tongue fully anointed both lips and licked just inside them on that especially sensitive area.

When you moaned a little too loudly again, he reminded you to be quiet just before he sucked and kissed you again, covering every inch of the outside of your pussy before pushing the straightened tip of his tongue inside and probing upwards licking the insides as he started to tongue fuck you.

‘This feels so fucking good’ you stammered, legs shaking and quivering while Cillian held you tightly and it wasn’t long until you reached an orgasm which sent convulsions through your body.

You moaned a little too loud again as your whole body tingled and felt tender to the touch and tears of pleasure and relief, with a tinge of guilt, poured down your cheeks.

‘That was amazing’ you eventually huffed out as you slowly came down from your high and Cillian kissed his way back up your body until his lips reached yours.

‘You taste so fucking good’ he then whispered into your ear after your lips drifted apart and, just as he did, you reached in between his legs and began stroking his cock which was still rock hard.

‘I want to feel you inside me again…please…just once more’ you begged and the sound of you begging alone made Cillian groan.

‘Fuck Y/N…I want you so much’ he whispered as he pulled down his boxers and his wiggling body urged your legs to open so that his cock lay between your thighs with the bulbous end of it pressed against your lips.

‘Then take me’ you groaned marvelling at the fact your friend's dad was about to fuck you.

With the tip of his cock just slightly parting the lips of your pussy and his arms round your body with his hands gripping your taught bum he muttered something you couldn’t understand. It was obvious to you that his mind was hardly able to accept what was happening. Nonetheless, he wanted it so badly and, with a shrug of his hips, he sank his cock deep into your gorgeously tight and wonderfully welcoming pussy.

‘Oh god yes, Cillian’ you groaned as your fingernails were digging into his back.

He pushed himself in as far as it would go, eliciting more groans from you which he had to quickly silence with his lips.

You felt light-headed and deliriously happy. You also felt very filled. Cillian was bigger than the other guys you had been with and you loved the feeling of being stretched. The folds of skin that guard your clit seemed to be open and that so sensitive place felt to be exposed, so as Cillian started moving slowly up and down it was as though his cock was rubbing on it. You had never felt anything like it before. Just as you had never felt like cumming when a man's cock had only been inside you for a few moments.

Somehow, however, you managed to delay your release just a little bit longer, enjoying as Cillian thrusted into you hard and deep until, eventually, the inevitable happened.

‘Let go, there is no need to hold back’ Cillian reassured you and, just as he did, you allowed your orgasm to wash over you.

‘Oh god Cillian, fuck’ you shouted out and he quickly covered your mouth with his hand as he continued to thrust into and watched you lose control.

Your legs were shaking once again as you gave in and, when you finally came down, Cillian pulled out of you.

Thinking that he was done and that he wanted you to proceed as before, you scooted up but, to your surprise, Cillian pulled you on top of him instead.

‘Your turn to take what you need Y/N’ Cillian whispered and you couldn’t help but shiver at his words. He wanted you on top and that was yet another first for you.

‘You can cum again’ he then said but you couldn’t help but shake your head.

‘I don’t think I can, but I am willing to try’ you smirked. He had already given you four orgasms that day which were four more orgasms than anyone else before him had given you.

‘I bet you can’ he then winked and you nodded shyly before taking his hard cock into your hand and lining it up with your entrance.

‘I will be sore tomorrow I think’ you whispered as, with a moan, you sank down on his hard cock.

‘Yes, you will be’ Cillian chuckled as, all of a sudden, he thrusted upwards and deep into your mound, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

Once again, he covered your mouth with his hand as you began to ride him.

‘You feel so fucking good, you know that?’ Cillian groaned as you began to move up and down on his hard shaft. He certainly had become vocal now and you loved it.

‘So tight around my cock’ he then groaned as he met your thrusts and he could hear you starting to whimper.

‘Oh god…yes, fuck my pussy’ you moaned quietly, holding his hand and keeping it near your mouth while sucking on his fingers.

‘Cum inside me Cillian. I want to feel it. Fill me with your cum’ you then demanded as you began to ride his cock harder and faster and, by this point, Cillian had lost all self-control.

The dirty talk, the tightness of your pussy and the way your lips played with his fingers was too much for him.

‘Cum with me Cillian’ you then moaned as you let go and so did he.

‘Oh god Cillian, yes…fuck’ you groaned as such amazing feelings flooded your body and you felt him push into you as far as he could go.

‘Fuck Y/N’ grunted as you both climaxed simultaneously and you soared to a height of pleasure you had never previously experienced when Cillian’s cock exploded sending streams of his cum into you.

‘Oh god that was amazing’ you eventually huffed out when you both stopped moving.

‘Jesus Y/N’ Cillian grunted almost at the same time before his eyes shot open and he saw your satisfied smile.

Carefully, you climbed off him, releasing his cock from your tight pussy before you sat down on the bed next to him.

You spread your legs and, with curious eyes, you looked down on yourself and watched some of Cillian’s cum leak from your core.

‘That feels so fucking good…so warm and wet’ you observed as you collected some of his cum with your finger and brought it to your mouth while Cillian cocked an eyebrow, wondering what you were doing.

‘Uhm…?’ Cillian chuckled, watching you almost speechlessly but yet somewhat turned on.

‘I never had a guy cum inside me but this is so fucking sexy’ you observed with a laugh before reshuffling yourself and collapsing into his arms.

‘Yeah, about that…’ Cillian went on to say…

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