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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 10 months ago

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Chapter 19: I Know Who You Are

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

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

Word Count: 14.5K (It's a behemoth and oh my stars I didn't mean to do this)

Warnings: Angst, Cursing, Angst, Drinking, ANGST, Sexual References, Talks of Pregnancy/Abortion, Some steaminess (barely), Family Problems, Self-deprecating thoughts, Awkward Situation, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

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

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Not going to lie, this one is ANGSTY and it's dramatic... ENJOY!

Soldier Boy POV

Ben couldn't move, couldn't breathe. The words you'd said still hovered between the two of you like an anchor sinking from a ship and lodging itself in his heart to tug him under. At first he thought that he'd imagined you saying it, that he was still reeling from using his newfound powers, but the ringing in his ears was not a side effect of that.

It had been exactly 37 seconds since you said it, and in those 37 seconds Ben couldn't do anything but stare into your beautiful wide eyes and try to remember how to breathe. The look on your face was identical to the first time you told him you loved him, hands gently cupping his cheeks and making him feel like the boy who used to climb up the tree outside your window just to glimpse your smile.

But now what you said was different. What you said didn't bring warmth, it brought destruction, it broke through everything he was.

As soon as you said it a wave of shock crashed over him, followed by another more powerful wave of guilt. It wasn't guilt for getting you pregnant or guilt because the two of you weren't careful. Ben was not upset about that. He would have loved to see you pregnant, see you glow as you wore those cute overalls and prepared for a child that he gave you. To see you smile at him every day and let him make love to you, show you how excited he was to share this with you. Show you how you were the only person he wanted a family with, the only person he ever wanted to be bound to. He had wanted to give that to you and that wasn't a lie. When you first spoke those words to him so long ago about wanting to have a family, wanting to have someone to come home to, someone who loved you, Ben had wanted to be the one to give you those things.

He would have done anything to make you happy, still would. But now he was upset with himself. Guilty that he wasn't there for you when you needed him the most, guilty that he allowed himself to stay away as long as he had, and guilty that he hadn't fought harder to get back to you.

He imagined those years without him raising a child on your own, the sleepless nights you must have had, the way you must have never had a moment of quiet-.

Ben felt himself sinking deeper and deeper into despair when he thought of the years you must have spent alone raising his child, loving his child even though he threw you away.

She loves me that much? How can I ever deserve her?

Ben still didn't breathe, noting the way Legend, Butcher, and Hughie have fallen silent where they stand behind the two of you. Even Legend had stopped smoking his blunt, something that Ben wished he could take a hit from.

I'm a dad and I-

Ben's memories of his own father came up like the rising tide, the shit his father said to him, the way his father pushed him away, the way his father was never there when he needed him to be and the way that his father always made him feel like he wasn't enough, just as your mother made you feel.

Even after all this time, I did become him, I abandoned her and then I abandoned my kid. I wasn't there when they needed me the most, I am a fuck up I- Ben swallows, the overwhelming thoughts dragging him further and further beneath the waves. How could she still want me? How can she say that I've never disappointed her when I did this?

You drop your hands from his cheeks and he misses the warmth they brought, but worse is the look in your eyes. You look scared. It was the same look you'd had on your face this morning when he woke up with you in his arms.

Ben hated that, because he knew why. He knew that you were scared to tell him this because you thought he would leave you again, that you still didn't completely believe that he was never going to leave you again, and it broke something deep inside of him that he tried to hide away for decades. He wished that he had never done those things to you, wished that he had earned back your trust already, wished that you would let him make love to you to show you how much you meant to him, but deep down he knew that he was willing to wait for you even if it took the rest of his life, he would make you trust him again.

At least she's touching me and looking me in the eye now.

But he knew that he still had a long way to go.

“Right.” Butcher clears his throat awkwardly. “Don’t forget to fill up the tank.” He tosses his keys towards you and you catch them in your hand while Ben continues to stand there.

Honestly he still wasn't sure what to say. He was stuck somewhere between guilt and shock and he wasn't sure how to make his body move. Pretty soon he would die from asphyxiation. He hadn’t taken a breath since you said it.

Butcher, Legend, and Hughie walk into the house behind them each wearing a bewildered expression. Ben had been to Legend's summer house many times in the past. He had memories of orgies and parties that went on for days, both of which you never went to, and Ben always ended up at your apartment trying to sleep it off while you sketched quietly beside him. He still couldn't understand that, how you were able to sit there with him and act like your heart wasn't breaking each time he did that.

The silence grows between you and Ben can't find the words to fill it, because he has no idea what to say, no idea how you can look at him when he did this to you, when he got you pregnant and then abandoned you like you didn't matter.

"Look I-" You stammer, looking down at the ground for a minute to take a breath before you raise your eyes to look at him. "I didn't want to tell you like this, but I can't leave her. We have the same last name and the first thing Homelander's going to do is make that connection. I mean, Legend and I made up the story about Indigo being my mom, but Rosemary she-"

Ben's entire body explodes again with emotion and shock as you utter the name Rosemary. He hadn't heard it in over eighty years, the last time was at his mother's funeral. The day that you crossed the gravesite, pulling away from your family, swaddled in another ridiculous dress that your mother picked out, and took his hand, refusing to let it go. You were always there for him.

And then I wasn't fucking there for her.

“I just can’t leave her, not with him.” You whisper, glancing up into Ben's impassive face but he can't say anything.

How can I when she named our daughter after my mother?

“I know it’s a lot to take in. I tried to tell you this morning, but then Butcher walked in and I didn’t want to do this in front of him and- and-“ You were babbling now, a nervous habit that Ben hadn't seen you do in ages, but was now rearing its ugly head all over again. “And you don’t have to come with me-“

You were mistaking his silence for fear, mistaking his silence as him pulling away all over again. He could see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice as it trembled.

“Rosemary.” Ben whispers, your daughter's name, his daughter's name, interrupting you. He barely breathes it, so low that he's not sure you heard him, saying the name with a reverence that he'd never used before. It was the first thing he'd said since you told him that he was a dad.

“Yes?" You look confused.

“You named her after my mom?” Ben’s eyes catch yours, deep green and open. He could feel his own heart flutter when he asked you that, heating in his chest so hot that he thinks it might melt out of it, through the bones and sinew. If that happened he would catch it and give it to you as if you already didn’t have it.

Ben can hear your heartbeat stutter when he asks you that. It was surprising, surprising that after everything that happened you still did that for him, did that to remember him.

He watches the end of your lips twitch in a smile.

“Yeah. You loved your mom. And did you think I was going to name her after my mom? Really?” You smile faintly at him with the joke.

Ben almost smiles at the thought. There wasn't any way that you wanted to remember your mother. Hell, all Ben wanted was to help you forget her, to undo the damage that she'd done to you all those years ago, because he saw how her influence still weighed on you, how everything that happened in the past still sat on your shoulders.

And he wanted to relieve that.

“I did try to tell you.” You repeat, but your smile drops. “Honestly I also want to stop and get some clothes from my apartment so I’m not covered in blood or rubble when I see her. It's going to be hard to explain all of this to her.”

Ben drags his eyes down your outfit again. Although this morning all he wanted was to rip it off you and study your curves with his hands, the outfit looked weathered. There was a prominent hole through the jacket and shirt, just under your left breast that Ben couldn't look away from. He knew what it meant. It was from you pushing him out of the way of Homelander. He could still feel the anger prickling beneath his skin when you again did the thing that he told you not to do. You were just so stubborn sometimes and never wanted to listen to him. Ben didn't give a single fuck that Homelander had punched him and practically choked him, the only thing he cared about was that Homelander had killed you. There were many things that Ben fantasized about doing to Homelander when he had killed you, many he wished that he had been able to accomplish before Homelander tucked his tail and flew away like a little pussy.

He cannot be what passes for a hero these days.

Then again another side of him was incredibly turned on when you faced Homelander. He'd never admit that to you, but there was something sexy about the way you threw Homelander around like he was nothing. It had taken an extreme amount of effort for Ben not to kiss you after Homelander flew away, to take you back into the ruined house and show you just how much he liked your outfit and how much he enjoyed watching you kick Homelander's ass. Of course he'd let the anger win in the moments that followed the fight.

"Okay." Ben replies.

He sees you hesitate. “I guess I’ll see you when I get back.” You reply, with a tight smile, disappointment flashing in your eyes.

“What are you talking about?” Ben’s eyebrows furrow together. He was confused. “I’m coming with you.”

“Really?" He watches your eyes widen in surprise.

Did she really think I'd let her go alone to do this?

"Yes? I told you that I didn't want you to go alone. Especially with that asshole flying around." Ben could feel himself frown.

"Okay."

Reader POV

The first ten minutes of the drive is deathly quiet. Ben doesn’t say anything and you fight to keep your mouth shut. The urge to fill the silence bristled beneath your skin, but you clamp your lips together.

Even when he said he wanted to come with me, he didn't acknowledge anything I said about Rosemary and-

“Are you sure she’s mine?” Ben finally asks interrupting your internal monologue.

You can’t help but laugh, gripping the steering wheel as you snort. “Why is that the reaction all men have when a woman tells them that they’re pregnant? Is it because all men believe that women go around plotting ways to force them into a relationship? Is that a legitimate fear that you guys have? Or is it because all men think women go jumping from bed to bed having unprotected sex with whoever they can get their hands on?”

“No I just-“ Ben sighs and doesn’t finish his sentence. He’s been staring out through the windshield, watching the outside world fade into blurred colors, glancing over at you every few seconds.

“I’m sorry.” You hadn’t meant to laugh at him, but this was all just extremely awkward.

But it shouldn’t be. You can’t help but think to yourself. If Ben had ever asked me to have a kid with him before any of this I would have agreed to it no questions asked. But now I guess it's different.

“Yes she’s yours.” You sigh, but you can’t look at him.

“But how?”

“Do you really want me to explain the birds and the bees to you?”

“Y/n.” He sighs.

“Because of all the people in the world, you probably have enough experience to know exactly how babies are made and I hate to break it to you, it has nothing to do with a stork.”

“Please don’t make a joke right now.”

“I can’t help it.” You mutter butterflies dancing the conga in your stomach. “You know how I get when I get nervous.” You could practically feel your neurons sending electrical impulses through your body, making your anxiety grow.

I really should have had that coffee this morning. Then again it might go right to my anxiety.

“Why are you nervous?” Ben asks you incredulous. He sounds surprised, like he can't understand you.

“Huh?”

“Why are you nervous? You should be fucking furious with me!"

"Ben what are you talking about?" You turn to look over at him. He looks wrecked. He's hunched in the seat, hands clenched tightly over his thighs, jaw tight.

Is he mad at me? Really? Your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach to be devoured by the swarm of butterflies. I knew it. I knew he wouldn't be able to handle this-

"I did this to you and then I fucking left you. I left you when you needed me and was with those Russian fucks for forty-“ Ben’s voice breaks.

You suddenly understand. Ben wasn’t angry with you, he wasn’t pulling away, he was angry with himself. Guilty and angry because he wasn't there, because he believed that he disappointed you again.

“Ben wait a minute-“

“I should have been there every second.” He seethes, jaw tight, hands clenched into fists on top of his thighs. “I should have- FUCK.” Ben’s fist goes through the roof of the car, making the entire frame shudder.

Shit Butcher might kill us for that.

"Oh Ben-" You whisper.

“I-“ His chest begins to glow. “I said all those things, pushed you away, fucked Countess. I put you through all that shit and you still wanted to have my fucking kid? And you named her after my mom? I-"

Butcher will definitely kill us if Ben blows up his car.

You pull the car over to the side of the road, quickly unbuckling your seatbelt and reaching for Ben. "Ben please it's okay." You breathe, hands finding the sides of his face. "It's okay."

"No it's not." His chest dulls, but he turns his head away from you ashamed. "You told me that you wanted a family, that you wanted someone to come home to, someone who loved you. I wanted to give you those things, but not like this. I-" Ben's voice cracks. "I'm so sorry. I-"

"Ben." You whisper, turning his face back to yours so he's looking at you. His green eyes are dim, eyebrows pushed together, mouth turned down in a frown. And you can't help but kiss him. It's the first kiss you'd had in years. Life always seemed to get in the way of that. Whether it was Rosemary or Lou, you hadn't had a lasting relationship with someone in decades, not since Ben. The most you’d done is gone out with another artist and had dinner. It had ended in an awkward kiss that felt completely wrong to you. It didn't feel anything like this.

Kissing Ben was even more wonderful than you remember. The way he softly sighs into your mouth as he deepens the kiss, the way his hands find your waist to pull you over the center console into his lap, the way your hands automatically tangle in his thick dark hair on the back of his head, and the way your entire body melted into him. Warm tingles trace down your spine as your lips move against his, every synapse in your body electrifying, as you try your hardest to tell him how much he means to you with the kiss.

"Don't you understand." You say against his lips, stroking your fingers through his hair. "You did. You gave me a family. You gave me someone to come home to, someone who loves me. And now that she’s all grown up it gets to be you. You didn’t ruin my life. I don’t regret a single moment, even with everything that happened. I don't regret having Rosemary. You gave me what I wanted. It might not have looked the way I thought it would, but it doesn't make it any less special.”

"But I wasn't there for you when you needed me. I-" Ben sighs leaning his forehead against yours and you kiss him again, his tongue tangling with yours so devastatingly languid it seems to take your next breath.

Why did I ever deny myself this?

"Ben, you're here now, and that's all that matters to me."

"But-"

"You don't need to apologize for this Ben. What happened to you was not your fault. You couldn't control being away as long as you were-"

"I could have tried harder to escape. I could have-" He swallows, eyes wide and filled with pain. "I would have tried harder if I knew that I left you with-"

"Ben." You breathe, extracting your fingers from his hair and cupping his cheeks. "Please. I don't blame you for not being there. It was out of your control. And if-" You clear your throat with a sigh. "If you really love me as much as you say, if you've really loved me all this time, then I know you would have been there every second."

"I do. I love you." He kisses you again, breathing you in, holding you so tight against his chest as if he believes that you'll fade away in his arms. "I would have been, even if you hated having me there."

"I might have at the beginning, but now I can't imagine losing you. I can't imagine you leaving me. I don't think that I'll be able to survive this time-"

"I won't leave. I promise."

"I'm starting to believe you." Your thumbs stroke against Ben's cheeks, smiling softly at him, trying to fight the urge to cry, because your emotions are getting the best of you all over again. "Now can we please go? Or are you going to blow up Butcher's car?"

"One more Sweetheart." Ben murmurs, dragging your face back to his. "I've waited forty years for this."

"Does she know about me?" Ben says from your bedroom, over the sound of the sink.

You were standing in your bathroom, washing ash and blood from your face and picking rubble out of your hair. Honestly, you looked… weathered. The revenge outfit had a large irreparable hole that went through the blouse, not to mention you'd lost another favorite jacket and you were starting to get pissed.

Two down in a week. Maybe the vintage shop across the street from Rosemary's will have a nice selection. You reconsider. Or maybe Legend will have some clothes that he doesn't want. You smile to yourself. He certainly looks the same, must have some nice vintage clothes from the "good old days". Maybe I should be more worried about the fact that I’m more upset about ruining another jacket rather than the fact that we killed two people today.

Of course, you also needed to consider getting Ben some more clothes as well. Butcher's minimal selection was dismal, then again Ben could probably wear a garbage bag and be drop dead gorgeous.

He's the worst.

"Yeah. I told her who you were." You pull off the jacket, stroking your finger around the hole in the back of it, noticing the way the singed leather melted away from the laser. "She also knows you're back. It was-um- it was Rosemary who was texting me this morning." You momentarily feel guilty again. Rosemary was not excited to see Ben, the text messages this morning were a testament to that. And you were afraid that Ben was going to get his hopes up about seeing her.

Personally you weren't sure how he was going to approach this. Your heart just about broke when he almost exploded in the car from guilt about getting you pregnant. That was shocking, but at the same time the look of anguish on his face made you feel guilty all over again for not trying to get him sooner, for not asking more questions about his death. You knew that he was more indestructible than you. Why didn't I question that?

You reach for the bottom of the blouse, pulling it from your skin, but you look at your reflection in the mirror. There were two prominent scars, each about the size of a nickel, just under the left side of your bra. The only thing left behind from your fight with Homelander.

Ben's hand against the small of your bare back, makes you jump. It was rough and familiar, brushing against your soft skin in a way that makes you want to push back into his touch, to soak up the warmth like a cat in the sun. Proving again that your body still responded to his touch the same way it had your entire life. "Let me see." He rumbles.

"What?"

Ben turns you towards him, eyes dark as they meet yours, but then they drop to the collection of scars on your torso. "This one?" He strokes the golf-ball sized, almost perfect circle on the right lower part of your abdomen.

"Countess."

Ben's jaw tightens, but then raises his hand to the scars Homelander left then to the bullet scar just over your heart. "I hate that so many of these have to do with me."

"Well you didn't do them so you should see that as a win." You joke trying to make Ben smile, but he doesn't. "Ben we talked about this."

"I know." He pauses stroking his finger on a thin line just over your left collarbone. It was new to him. "What’s this one?"

"Rosemary." A ghost of a smile is on my lips. "Didn't want to eat her broccoli when she was a kid, telekinetically threw a knife at me by accident."

"She's a supe?"

"Yeah she's like us a bit. Doesn't age, she's strong, and more invulnerable, but she doesn't have any other powers unless she touches you."

"She has to touch you?"

"Yeah skin to skin contact only and only 24 hours, that's how she got telekinesis. She touched me and, well, really didn’t want to eat that broccoli-" You shrug. You were used to her powers, happy that you didn't have to watch her age, but worried about Lou. You were always worried about Lou. “But she's not a hero, she didn't want to be one. She's a nurse, works downtown in the emergency room. Though I think she's thinking about being a doctor."

"A doctor? A female doctor?” Ben’s eyebrows furrow.

Right. He basically missed the feminist movement. Note to self, make Ben watch the Barbie movie.

"Yes a female doctor. Nowadays it happens more often than you’d think.” You laugh. “She wanted to go back to school, but then her husband died and she was taking care of Lou-"

"Lou?"

You take his hand stroking your thumb over the back. “It’s not just Rosemary-“

“Please do not tell me you had fucking twins.” Ben tenses.

“No.” You snort. “Lou is our granddaughter. It's short for Lois, though Rosie never calls her that unless she's done something crazy. She’s four, and most of the time she calls me aunty. She doesn’t know I’m her grandmother. Rosie and I, we thought it would be better if I introduced her as my cousin, not as my daughter."

“What happened to her husband?”

“Car accident. Just a few weeks after Lou was born.” Your smile drops remembering. “He was a good guy. Rosemary was head over heels for such a long time, and when he died she just crumbled completely shut down. He wasn't a supe and when she started to have a life with him I was worried about him dying. He wasn't going to live forever and he certainly wasn't indestructible. But after it happened I moved in with them for a while, helped her get through it, but it was hard."

"What about Lou?"

"What about her?"

"Is she a supe?" Ben's palm was still resting on the thin line over your collar bone and it was difficult to think with his bare skin pressed against yours.

"Not that we've noticed. Though I worry every day she will be."

"Why?"

"She's a third generation supe from our bloodline. If that gets out, who knows what'll happen. Same with Rosemary. She’s powerful and she’s only second generation from us. I’m hoping it skipped Lou.” You sigh leaning forward into his hand. "When I first found out that I was pregnant with Rosemary I was afraid that Vought would come take her away. And then when Lou was born I was so happy for Rosie, but everyday I'm scared that-" The words catch in your throat. Nothing really scared you anymore, but the thought of losing Rosie or Lou broke your heart, it was the same fear you had at the thought of losing Ben all over again.

He slides his hand up the column of your throat to cup your cheek. “Nothing will happen to them.” Ben promises. “I won’t let it.” His gaze was locked on yours, eyes filled with steely determination. It made your heart warm to know that Ben already cares about them, that he understood how important they were to you. It also made you all the more guilty for telling Rosemary everything about Ben, afraid that it turned her against him.

But I told her the bad and the good. I told her how much he meant to me, how he touched my life, our childhoods-

Images of the moments with Ben over your lifetime, the good and the bad, the moments you loved him, the moments you hated him, the simple moments that you longed for more, and the moments where Ben gave you everything you wanted, when he was exactly what you needed, as if he understood every part of you, even the parts that you tired to hide from everyone else. The moments before you were supes when Ben and you were together and he made you forget about your mother, when he walked you home as you sang drunkenly off key, and the moments where he cheered you up when everything seemed hopeless. Ben was always there for you.

You tried to tell her that, but maybe you were too jaded to tell her, maybe you focused too much on the bad. And now that meant she might not listen to his side of the story.

He drags his finger over the scar just over your heart, the one he can't seem to forget, trailing goosebumps in it's wake, while his other hand wraps around your waist tugging you forward against his chest.

By now he was wearing the pair of jeans and dark shirt he came to your apartment in, looking just as devastatingly handsome as he always did. Probably a good thing that he didn't go to her apartment in his supe suit, you didn't want Rosemary to ask him why he was wearing it and then have to tell her that he torched the TNT Twins.

Because telling her that you personally kicked Homelander's ass and that he was now going to hunt down Rosemary and Lou seemed so much easier. Not.

Why is my life like this?

"I can't put a shirt on if you keep doing that." You whisper. Honestly you couldn't think straight either.

"Maybe that's my plan all along."

"Well see, if I never put a shirt on that means that I'll be walking around in public with everyone seeing me without one and-"

Ben's eyes narrow at the thought.

“Oh do you not like that?” You smirk.

He pins you back against the counter, the marble biting into your lower back, but you don’t have time to think about it because Ben’s lips are against yours, supple and urgent, driving every thought from your mind.

Your hands come up to grip his shoulders, fastening him tighter against you while his mouth drags over your skin down your throat to your collarbone.

“Ben we have to go-“ you whisper.

“Let me do this first.” He mutters against your skin.

“Do what?” You sigh, feeling him begin to suck a mark directly over your collarbone. “Ben-“ You try to say his name to make him stop. Showing up to Rosemary’s apartment with a hickey was the last thing you wanted. But instead of his name coming out in the harsh whisper you intended, it comes out as a moan.

Ben’s body tightens around you, gaze meeting yours. His eyes are dark pools filled with promises that make a shiver travel down your spine. “I’ve waited forty years to hear you say my name like that again.” His lips fall back to the same spot. “And I look forward to hearing it like that in the future.”

Part of you is screaming too soon! But there’s another part rattling the bars of her cage that screams more! At the top of its lungs.

Ben continues to kiss along your neck, beard scratching against the soft skin in a way that makes you sigh and move your hands up to tangle in his hair.

You can feel Ben’s smile. “That’s my girl.”

“Only yours.” You whisper before you can stop yourself causing Ben to raise his head from your collarbone.

“Damn right.”He growls.

And there goes my last shred of willpower. Fuck.

Rosemary’s apartment building sends a deep feeling of dread through your system. You were happy that you got to change, happy that Ben got to change, but now thanks to the man sitting in the front seat across from you there was a large purple mark just on your collarbone that was barely covered by the long sleeved sweater you had on.

Please let Rosemary not see it.

Ben wasn’t helping. Since your apartment he hadn’t let go of your hand. The entire ride to Rosemary’s he held it over the center console of Butcher’s car, slowly stroking the back of it with his thumb making warm tendrils creep up your arm and settle in your heart. It was just like the night after the restaurant when Ben drove you home and he showed a softer side of himself that you hadn’t seen in forty years.

In the past 48 hours Ben had been more attentive and loving than he ever had and it made you hopeful for the future, hopeful that this really was going to work.

But you were still afraid that this was happening so fast. You weren’t expecting yourself to be so open to forgiving him, to be so ready to let him back in, to let him pick up the pieces of your heart but there he was holding duct tape with his piercing eyes and annoyingly gorgeous face.

“This is a nice apartment building.” Ben says looking up at the towering behemoth.

“She really likes it.” You shrug. “It’s close to a lot of schools and Rosie’s job. I kinda thought it was too uppity.”

“Neighborhood looks safe.” Ben gets out of the car.

“Yeah it-“ You begin to say trying to open your door but as soon as you do Ben is there opening it for you. “Oh thanks.”

“You look surprised.” He smiles.

“It’s just been a while since someone has opened a door for me.”

Ben’s smile twitches for a second. “Y/n?”

“Yes Ben.” You smooth the front of his shirt.

“How many others have there been?” He asks quietly.

You pause for a second hand still on his chest. As ridiculous as it might seem to some people, the truth was there hadn’t been anyone else.

At first it was difficult to find time for anything eat alone that in particular. Chasing a toddler around that occasionally picked up the couch and threw it across the room with her mind was enough to keep anybody busy, not to mention that you didn’t want to leave Rosemary alone with anyone for a night. And when Rosemary finally went off the college and you started to sell your paintings you started to get more comfortable being on your own again. You’d gone out to dinner with a few men who asked you after your show shared a kiss, but nothing ever felt right.

Finally came the one night that you thought things could be different. Max was a colleague that had flirted with you every chance he got. He wasn’t bad looking, reminded you a bit of Ben and your friend Adam Winthrop growing up. Max was also an artist who came to each of your shows, talked you down from the ledge whenever you thought the work wasn’t good enough and always took you out to get a drink after a show to make you feel better. He was sweet, funny, but when you were with him something always felt different.

But one night you figured why not? So you gave in, went back with Max to his apartment, but you couldn’t go all the way. It felt wrong. You could tell how much he liked you, how much he wanted you, but you didn’t want him. And it felt wrong to use someone. To make them believe you had feelings for them only to push them away.

So you told Max the truth and he respected you, didn’t make anything weird between the two of you, acted like nothing happened.

But now standing here in front of Ben with him asking you that question apart of you wished you had found someone else.

“Why?” You ask slowly.

Ben shrugs. “I don’t know you just haven’t- I mean we haven’t talked about that and-“

“I have never asked you how many people you’ve slept with. And I really don't think this is the best time?"

“I know that you've never asked but the last time I saw you I mean-" Ben's hand gently touches your waist, stroking against the top of your favorite worn pair of jeans.

You knew exactly what he was thinking about, he was thinking about the night you shared together, when he was everything you wanted, and he made you feel special loved, when he was gentle and made love to you the way you always imagined.

And yes maybe sex was off the table for a while, but it would come up again, eventually.

"Ben, can we talk about this after we get Rosemary and Lou back to Legend's?" You whisper placing a hand on his chest before you can stop yourself. You weren't sure if you'd ever be able to stop touching him, if you'd ever be able to stand in his presence and not feel warm or happy. You never expected it to be like this again, and certainly not so soon.

Ben looks disappointed for a moment, his green eyes flashing in the brilliant sunlight as it begins to sink behind the buildings. The wind carried the smells of summer, ice cream, beer, sunscreen, and just a hint of rain, rustling through the trees on the edge of Central Park. There would be a storm soon and you hoped that you were on the road before it hit. You hated driving in the rain.

"Okay." He releases your waist and takes your hand once more. "But we are going to talk about it right?"

"I don't see why it's so important." You steer him towards the front double doors where the doorman, Rodger, stands in a green and gold suit.

"Welcome back miss." Rodger smiles and opens one of the heavy glass doors for Ben and you.

"Thank you Rodger. How's the wife?" You flash a winning smile at him, still holding on tight to Ben who walks silently next to you.

"She's doing a lot better. The treatments are going well. She seems more like herself each day." Rodger smiles wider, eyes misting a little bit.

"That's wonderful to hear. Tell her I say hello." You say continuing to the gilded elevator that sits on the other side of the large marble lobby of the apartment building.

The truth was you knew that his wife was doing better, just as you knew she was receiving her treatments. Last Christmas Rodger had broken down when he was letting you up to see Lou and Rosemary and told you that his wife was diagnosed with lung cancer and because they didn’t have the money for treatment, it would probably be her last Christmas. Rodger was one of the kindest people you knew, and you didn't want him to lose his wife, so Rosemary and you both decided to shift around the generous funds that her grandfather left you, to send an anonymous donation so Rodger's wife could get treatment.

"Of course miss."

The elevator door closes, leaving Ben and you alone again, playing a cover of "Don't Stop Believing" on the piano.

Ben tugs you close and kisses you softly, so soft that it makes your eyes flutter while he smiles down at you. "I love you."

"What did you do?" You joke, nerves of Rosemary seeing Ben gone for a moment.

"You have such a big heart." He strokes his finger down your cheek, eyes soft as he gazes at you.

"He was going to lose his wife." You murmur. Ben was doing it again, seeing through you, understanding you even without knowing the whole story. It was like he always had a way of laying you bare, able to see your thoughts and secrets even though he wasn't a mind reader. "He loves her so much and for him to lose her like that-"

Ben hugs you closer to his chest. "I understand what that's like."

You see where his mind is, see that it's on a beach overseas, with blood soaked sand and your body lying in his arms as you draw your last breath. It hurt you to see the pain in his eyes, the loss even when you were standing right in front of him, even when you were in his arms, pressed against him in the way that always made you think that he was made for you just as the way you were made for him.

How could I ever forget how he made me feel? How wonderful it was to be with him when all you could see was the boy you grew up with?

"I'm right here. And I'm not going anywhere. I promise." You kiss him gently on the tip of his nose. It was more to reassure yourself than anything else. Rosemary was not going to react well to seeing him.

Might as well rip the band aid off right now.

The hallway is quiet, carpet plush and thick beneath your shoes and Ben and you make your way to the door at the end of the hallway. The blue paint is supposed to be calming, but your anxiety spikes as you raise your free hand to knock against the front door.

Please let her be here and not be kidnapped by Homelander.

The door opens.

Rosemary is dressed for work. Her maroon scrubs are clean and neat, her dark hair pulled back in a bun, her make up soft. She looks calm, but you can see the coming storm, just as you felt the coming storm outside the building, feel the electricity against your skin before the thunderclouds rose on the horizon. As soon as her eyes meet yours they narrow.

She's pissed.

"What are you doing here? I told you that I didn't need you to watch Lou tonight. Her babysitter is coming." Rosemary glances at Ben once, frown deepening as she notices his hand holding yours. You knew she was still holding back what she wished to say, choosing rather to ignore his presence rather than tear him apart here.

"I know. I'm not here for that. We have to go." You say, not wanting to discuss the full gravity of the situation in the hallway, but Rosemary shifts to block the doorway.

"You're not coming in. Not with him." She spits the word 'him' like it's a curse and you feel Ben's body tense in surprise.

I should have prepared him for this.

"Hi I’m-" Ben begins to say, trying to smooth things over.

"I know who you are." Rosemarys eyes narrow and flick back to you. “I can’t believe you fucking forgave him.”

"I-"

"Before you say you didn't that fucking hickey on your neck says otherwise."

Your cheeks flush bright red in embarrassment, shifting the sweater to hide it again. “Rosie-“

“No no no. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Rosie-“ Ben tries to say.

"Don't you dare call me that." She snarls, face contorting in rage, burning so hot that you could practically feel the air around her raising in temperature. "You don't know me. We're not friends. And I don't care what she says, you're not my dad. You're just the asshole that fucked my mom, got her pregnant and then ripped her heart out." Rosemary spits. “Do you have any idea what you put my mother through? Do you have any idea?"

Ben's body is still tense beside you, pulled so taunt that you don't know how he hasn’t snapped "I know and I apolo-“

“You think one measly apology makes that okay? MAKES ANY OF THIS OKAY?”

“Can we please not do this in the hallway?” You sigh. The last thing you wanted was Mrs. Norbert, Rosemary's prehistoric nosy neighbor coming out into the hall with her yappy French poodle, the same one that always snapped at your ankles and at Lou when you ran into her in the lobby.

“He’s not coming in here.” Rosemary stands her ground in the doorway.

"I know that you’re angry, but I need you to put that aside right now because there are more pressing things we have to worry about.”

"Like what?" Her eyes narrow at you. "Oh let me guess, you guys fucked again, you're pregnant and now you're going to-"

"Don't you dare speak to her that way." Ben roars trying to step in front of you, but you put your hand up to stop him.

Rosemary might be your daughter, but to Ben she was someone who insulted you, family or no, he wasn't going to sit back and let her treat you that way.

"Ben." You say once to calm him down. The last thing you wanted was for him to go nuclear right now. "Rosemary please. I know that you're angry, but we're not here for some big reunion. This is more important than any of this. This is about keeping Lou safe."

At the mention of her daughter's name, you see Rosemary's resolve waver. Her eyes flick to Ben again, once more sizing him up. "Fine." She opens the door wider, so Ben and you can come inside the apartment.

The creative chaos of the living room soothes some of your nerves, but not all. This was going poorly. Well, worse than poorly. Rosemary could barely look at Ben let alone speak to him without looking like she'd smelled something rancid.

You knew it would be bad, but you didn't think that it would be like this.

Apart of your heart broke for Ben. You saw how he acted in the car when you told him he was a father, how upset he'd been at the thought of getting you pregnant and then abandoning you. And now Rosemary was basically making him feel like a deadbeat probably wasn't helped either.

All you hoped was that Ben wasn't focusing on what his father used to say to him about being a disappointment, hoped that he wasn't reliving the memories of everything his father shouted at him at night before Ben fled to the solace of your bedroom.

Because the truth was you weren't disappointed and certainly were not disappointed when you got pregnant. Heartbroken yes. Scared shitless, again yes. But not disappointed, you'd never say that about him or to him, not as long as you lived. You knew exactly what those words would do to him, exactly where they would transport him. And you refused to be the reason Ben was reminded of his father.

"Aunty y/n!" Lou crows as she weaves through the apartment, leaping off the teal colored couch and into your open arms. She squeezes you tightly, burying her face in your neck. To see her safe brings relief washing over you, the same feeling you felt when Rosemary opened the door, but tenfold now knowing that Homelander has not taken either or them.

And he won't ever.

"I missed you." She whispers.

"I missed you too honey." You smile down at your granddaughter. She leans back to glance at her mother who still stands at the front door, holding on to the handle like it's her last nerve. Ben is standing close to you, looking at the little girl in your arms, face impassive, but his eyes betray him, caught somewhere between shock, anger, and just a twinge of guilt.

Please don't be guilty Ben. You think to yourself, trying hard not to reach out and touch him.

"Mommy why were you yelling at aunty y/n?" Lou looks at where Rosemary stands awkwardly by the door glaring at Ben.

"Because I didn’t tell her my friend Ben was coming." You say rubbing her back softly.

"Him?" She points at Ben.

"Yes. And don't point honey it's rude."

"Hi." Lou gives him a toothless smile and waves her chubby hand at him, her dark hair flopping away from her face as she does so.

Ben blinks at her for a moment, before his mouth begins to quirk in a half smile, shoulders still tense. But you could see that he was trying, and it meant something that he was despite Rosemary practically tearing him a new one in the hallway.

"He looks like mommy." Lou giggles cuddling into your neck to look at him.

It was the one thing that you hadn't prepared Ben for, how much he looked like Rosemary, how similar they were. You knew that somewhere deep down he was probably thinking the same thing.

Rosemary's eyes skate to Ben who stares back at her with the same intensity, but something passes in the air between them, something that you can't place.

"Yes. Yes he does sweetie. Now why don’t you go get your art kit for me, and we’ll go." You put her on the ground and Lou scampers off to her bedroom while the three of you stand there in awkward silence.

"Why do we have to go? I thought you didn’t expose yourself because you didn't go to Russia to get him." Rosemary asks. She still wouldn’t say his name. Then again you weren't expecting her to call him dad.

HA. Like that would ever happen.

Ben scoots closer to you reaching for your hand, but when Rosemary narrows her eyes at him, he pauses halfway. So you take his hand instead. "I did expose myself."

"How? Because of him?"

"Look I get that you're pissed, but I'm asking you to put it aside for one second so we can talk about this."

"Fine." Rosemary crosses her arms over her chest. "I'm listening." She still looks angry.

And you know what you're about to say is going to make her even angrier.

"We went to talk to the TNT Twins and things went south." You begin, swallowing the lump in your throat.

"Why?"

"I'll explain that later. But all you need to know is that things went badly and Homelander showed up."

Rosemary's hands tighten on her biceps so tight that her knuckles turn white at the mention of Homelander. Like you Rosemary didn't have any experience with him, only that she also knew there was something off about him.

"What did you do?" She whispers.

"It's not what she did, it's more what that fucker did." Ben almost spits, his skin heating where it rests in your hand.

"Ben." You say squeezing his hand softly as a warning. He gains control. "There wasn't a choice. We got into a fight-"

Rosemary's eyes widen, inhaling sharply. And before she can stop herself, she touches your shoulder, eyes tracing your body as if looking for injuries. "Did he hurt you? Are you okay?"

"Yes Rosie I'm fine, but he knows who I am and that means-"

"He knows who we are." Her eyes flick in the direction Lou went to grab her bag. "Shit."

"You can say that again." Ben mutters.

"Give me five minutes." Rosemary looks from Ben to you for a moment. "But this doesn't change anything."

"I know. Just go. We'll wait here." You reply with a tight lipped smile.

You hoped that one day this would get easier, that Rosemary would be able to look at Ben or have a conversation with him without killing him. The three of you seemed to be practically immortal, that was a long time to hold a grudge. And you didn't want there to be a division in your family. You'd lived with one before and you didn't want to go back through that, the awkward holidays, passive aggressive letters, and tense conversations. You didn't want that for your new family.

Maybe if I show her how much Ben has changed she'll warm up to him.

"Are you okay?" You whisper.

Ben was looking around the living room with an unreadable expression, flicking through the photos on the back of the couch of Rosemary, You, and Lou to the hand drawn pictures on the refrigerator in the kitchen.

"Ben?"

"Yeah." He mutters. "I'm fine."

But you could tell he wasn't. He wasn't really focusing on anything, and even his tone of voice was strange, hollow, but before you could press him further Rosemary and Lou come back into the room.

"Here let me-" Ben steps forward to take one of the large duffle bags from Rosemary, attempting to help, but Rosemary yanks the bag out of his reach.

"No I don’t need your help. I don’t need anything from you."

"Rosemary-" You sigh.

"And she doesn’t either." Rosemary gestures to you with the bag. "Do you have any idea what you did to her? How much you hurt her? And now you think you can just waltz back in here and say 'oh I’ll fix it' like you didn’t fuck up her life?"

"Rosemary!" You shout eyes flicking to where Lou was standing with her TMNT backpack on with wide eyes.

"No. You might not be able to say it to him. But I will. We don’t need you here. We've survived the past forty fucking years without you and we'll survive the next million!"

"Rosemary stop." You step forward this time to move between them, but Rosemary doesn't back down.

"Stop what?" She shouts. "Stop reminding you of what he did? I'm sorry, but I'm not going to just look into his eyes and forgive him like you did-"

"I DID NOT LOOK INTO HIS EYES AND FORGIVE HIM.” You snap, but then stop to take a breath. “We are working through it-"

"Uh-huh sure." Rosemary rolls her eyes. "Just stay away from Lou and from me." She moves around Ben with Lou in tow, storming through the front door of the apartment and leaving you and Ben in the living room.

Oh yeah… This is really working out for the best.

The ride to Legend's is dead silent, all three hours, broken up only once when you stop for gas, but even then Rosemary won't speak to you. She barely makes eye contact as she takes Lou to the bathroom, leaving Ben and you to stand at the car, watching the rain soak through the cracked pavement outside. But even Ben has been more quiet than usual, staring through the windshield of the car lost in thought, and you didn't ask him to fill the silence. You figured that with everything that happened over the past few hours, Ben deserved some silence.

When Lou and Rosemary got back to the car, Ben had silently taken the car keys from you and slid behind the wheel. He knew how much you hated driving in the rain.

Legend didn't require an introduction to your daughter, but it had been an awkward meeting for Butcher and Hughie who breezed through the front hallway on the way up the stairs to their bedrooms.

And finally when it was just Ben, Rosemary, Lou, and you standing at the foot of the stairs, you still had no idea what to say, or if there really was anything to say. You knew that Rosemary didn't want to talk out everything in front of Lou.

By now it was past midnight and you could see that Lou was already starting to sway on her feet. It was hours past her bedtime, but she was still in good spirits. Lou never seemed to stop smiling, she was happy all the time, excited to try new things, and it always reminded you of the way Rosemary used to be when she was a child and as an adult before she lost her husband.

"Rosemary-" You begin to say, throat tightening.

"I'm going to take Lou to bed. We can talk in the morning." She doesn't look at Ben or you, but you could tell that she was tired. She was still wearing her maroon scrubs, hadn’t changed out of them, too worried about Homelander, but her hair had pulled free of the bun and her makeup was a little more smudged under her eyes now. "Say goodnight Lou."

"Goodnight aunty y/n." Lou says tottering over to you, and you stoop down on the ground to hug her close to your chest the anxiety about Homelander prickling under your skin once more.

“Tomorrow can we paint some?” She gives you a wide toothless smile.

She'd lost one of her front teeth a few days ago, and was particularly proud of the hole it left behind. She'd been excited to meet the tooth fairy, even wrote a thank you note and drew a picture of her holding her tooth out for the fairy.

“Whatever you want sweetie.” You smile as she pulls away, brushing her dark hair from her wide eyes.

But instead of going back to where Rosie is holding out her hand for Lou, she turns and hugs Ben’s leg where he stands next to you. Her head barely reaches the top of his knee, but it doesn't dissuade her from hugging him with all her might.

Ben stiffens, unsure what to do.

“Goodnight Ben.” Lou looks up at him with the same smile she had for you.

You feel your own lips begin to pull up at the edges to see how much Lou wanted Ben to like her, how much she was trying to make him feel at home. It warmed you heart.

Ben looks stunned for a minute, eyes flicking to yours wide, and Rosie looks angry, but slowly, Ben begins to smile. “Goodnight honey.” He rumbles giving her a pat on the head, because he's still not sure exactly how to handle this.

Lou smiles pleased with herself then lets Rosemary take her away waving once from over Rosemary's shoulder at Ben as Rosemary climbs the stairs in the direction of the room that Legend saved for them.

Ben stands there watching them go for a minute, lost in thought. “She doesn’t like me.”

“Lou? She loves you. Of course there’s a lot to love.” You smile, trying to take his hand, but Ben pulls away. His rejection pricks at your heart, you couldn't tell why he was doing that, why he was pulling away from you again.

Is he angry? At me? At Rosemary? Or Is this him being angry at himself all over again?

You thought that he was doing better up until you went to Rosemary’s apartment, thought that he wasn’t as upset about leaving you in the past. But now you weren’t sure.

“There’s a lot to hate.” He mutters, his eyes won't quite meet yours and the fear of him leaving begins to creep back, shuddering through your bones like the chill of a winter wind.

“As there is with anybody-“ You try to recover from his rejection, searching his face to understand why he was acting so different.

“I want Rosie to like me. I’m her father-“ He turns to stare at you, green eyes dark, filled with an clouding of emotions that strike you straight in the heart. It wasn't happiness, it wasn't love, it was something different, something that made a lump lodge itself in the back of your throat.

“I know Ben. She just needs some time-" You begin to say, reaching for him, but Ben steps away from you again, refusing to let you comfort him.

"Why did you tell her all those things about me? Did you really hate me that much?” Ben shouts, voice reverberating up the staircase, so loud that you're sure other people can hear you.

"What are you talking about-"

"All the shit that happened between us. Everything that happened that night. Everything I did-“

"She asked me for the truth and I didn't want to lie to her-" You try to explain.

You hadn't. You wanted her to know the truth about her father, just as she knew that truth about you. You thought that she deserved that. And it wasn't like you told Rosemary when she was three. You told her everything that happened when she was twenty three and she had just started seriously dating her future husband, when she was scared because she’d never felt that way about anyone before. And it reminded you of how you felt about the boy Ben used to be.

"I wish you had. Damnit y/n I'm her father, she should like me!" He seethes, fists clenched. Ben towers over you green eyes blazing in the soft light coming from the lights that line the hallway.

And somewhere deep down you start to feel angry. It comes surging up like the roar of a crowd pricking at the back of your spine until you can’t take it anymore.

"It's been 4 fucking hours since you met her, GIVE HER TIME."

"I can't believe you did this." Ben spits glaring at you.

"Are you serious right now?" Your mouth opens in shock.

Was this just some kind of joke? Is he really mad at me for this? Does he really think that I would do something like this purposely?!

"Did you really hate me that much? Did you really feel the need to turn her against me? Make her not love me?"

"I didn't turn her against you Ben. And I didn’t make her not love you." You snap back. "Yes I was angry with you, but that didn't mean that I didn't want you with me every single second in Rosemary's life. I didn’t want to do that alone. I shouldn’t have had to but I don't blame you for that. I’ve told you that-“

“Yeah you’re really showing that. You turned her against me. Made me some villain. Made me some monster who fucked you and then left-“

“I THOUGHT THAT’S WHAT YOU DID DIPSHIT!” You poke your finger into his chest. “Just because I’ve chosen to begin to forgive you does not mean I forgot what you did and what you said to me that night. But I’ll say this.”

He tries to open his mouth to retort, but you speak first.

“Every time something happened with Rosemary I turned to tell you and you weren’t there.

When I went into labor I wished you were there to hold my hand and tell me that everything was going to be okay, I wished that you were there smiling down at her when you held her for the first time. When she took her first steps and fell on her butt I wished you were there to swing her around and make her laugh. When I showed her how to paint for the first time I wished that you were there to see how she was covered in paint from head to toe. And I only told her those things about you because she asked and I don’t lie to my family. I’ve never lied to Rosemary and I’ve never lied to you. Ever.”

Ben stands there stuck straight each muscle clenched, wether it be in frustration or anger you don’t care. Your own anger was coming back, unlocking from the place you shoved it down when you thought you needed to be the perfect person you wanted others to see you as and not the broken girl who lived with a hole in her heart for so long.

“And yeah maybe you can be in here and pout and fucking blame me for her hating you. And maybe I shouldn’t have told her those things but I did. I told her the good and the bad about you just as she knows the good and the bad about me. She can make her own decisions because she’s a damn adult. And don’t you dare say that I didn’t want you there every second. Because I did. Even though you fucking ripped my heart out and stomped all over it I still wished that you could have been there for her, could have filled her life with love as much as I did.”

"But you still did it." Ben growls.

And you realize that maybe this is it, maybe that this is the one thing that pushes him away from you.

"Fine. Hate me if you want. I'm going to get a drink. Don’t follow me." You snap before turning and stomping towards the kitchen, away from him, all the while hoping that he’ll follow after you.

But he doesn’t.

Despite wanting to grab one of the bottles of whiskey in Legend's kitchen, you restrain yourself and instead turn to the coffeemaker. It was fancier than yours, but you supposed that coffee would taste the same. You busy yourself with the steps of making the coffee to stop going over what you and Ben just yelled at one another, but your hands were still shaking.

Did he really think I didn't want him there? I mean yeah I was pissed from everything that happened, but I didn't want Rosemary to grow up without a father. I would have told him eventually that I was pregnant, I didn't want to do that alone.

You pour yourself a cup of coffee and lean back against the counter as you take a sip remembering the day you took the pregnancy test. It was more obvious than anything else, not the lack of your period but the morning sickness. You never got sick. You remembered being afraid at first, the thought of raising a child alone scared you. You weren't sure you even wanted to be a mother, because of everything yours put you through. But then you thought of Ben. Yes you hated him, but the baby might be the last part of him that existed anywhere. If you decided not to have it, Ben would really be gone and you would be alone all over again. So you decided to have Rosemary and you never regretted that decision. Especially now that she had Lou.

You roll the cup in your hands, feeling the warmth of the mug transfer into your palms.

Maybe I shouldn't have told her everything I did. But she knows everything about me. She knows that I killed Countess. She knows the good and bad about me. It felt unfair to only tell her the good about Ben, she deserves to know the truth. She's just upset. Honestly, she's also a upset with me as well for forgiving him or partially forgiving him.

You move to the kitchen table, stretching out in the worn wooden chair and place your mug down on the circular dark wood table. You wanted Rosemary to warm up to him, but at the same time you didn't want to get in between them. She needed to do this for herself and you didn't want to force them together.

You hear someone enter the kitchen. Probably Ben. But when you look up you realize that it's Butcher.

He stands just on the edge as if he's debating whether or not he wants to come in.

"Didn't realize you were still up." He raises an eyebrow. "Trouble in paradise love?"

"You realize that the V is completely out of your system right now right? And I could slowly peel your skin from your body with my mind if I wanted to?" You mirror his eyebrow raise while taking a sip of coffee.

"Eh. Worse ways to go." Butcher shrugs. "Anything stronger in here than coffee?"

"Top cabinet above the refrigerator. The good stuff is in the back. Legend usually tries to hide it from himself."

“Why?”

“Because he thinks it’s a waste to drink the good stuff when he’s really drunk and can’t appreciate it.”

“Seems fair.” Butcher finds the bottle of whiskey easily, moving to the cabinets to find a glass. “You want a cuppa?”

“I told myself I wasn’t going to-“ You pause for a moment thinking of how wonderful it would be if you could just forget for a few minutes. “But sure.”

“Coffee not working?”

“It never has.” You take the cup gratefully from his outstretched hand as Butcher folds himself into the chair next to you. It was weird to say the least. The only thing he had done was act hostile to you and now him being nice was enough to give you whiplash.

The rest of the house was completely silent, except the soft turn of pages. You figured that meant Rosie was reading one of her books to distract herself from everything that happened earlier.

I should be in there talking to her. Trying to explain all this.

But you were tired and still reeling from your fight with Ben and didn’t feel like getting into it with Rosemary for the second time today.

“So why’d you do it?” Butcher takes a big swig from the glass in front of him.

“What?”

“You lied about your powers to Vought for years. Why?”

You roll the glass between your fingers, watching the amber colored liquid slosh against the sides. “I’ll answer that if you answer my question.”

Butcher pauses. “Fine.”

“What did Homelander do to your wife?”

Butcher freezes, leaning back in his chair, one hand on his thigh curling into a fist.

"Legend told me that you had this thing for him because of it-" You continue cocking your head to the side examining Butcher's sudden tense stance.

“Not important.”

“Then I guess you won’t find out more about me.” You shrug.

After the past few days you didn't understand how you were here drinking with Butcher of all people. You still didn't completely trust him and you didn't like that he wanted to use Ben like he was his own personal nuclear bomb.

You both sit in the silence for a few minutes waiting for the other to break.

“He raped her.”

The words are heavy, expelled in a breath after Butcher drains his glass. For a minute you see his tough exterior crack, see the vulnerability in his stature, but then it's gone again. You feel your heart thud once in your chest, jaw locking. It only proved again how messed up Homelander was.

“Is she-"

"She's dead." He pours himself another full glass from the bottle of whiskey.

"I'm sorry." You whisper, starting to understand why he hated Homelander so much. Honestly if Homelander did something like that to my family I would rip him limb from limb.

For the first time since you met Butcher, you feel sorry for him, you understand where the sadness in his gaze comes from and where the tough exterior seems to mask the vulnerability underneath.

But at the same time, you refused to underestimate him.

Butcher nods once then glances over at you expectantly as if re-asking his question with only a look.

“It’s never been about the power for me. Or about proving how powerful I was to other people. I got the injection because Ben asked me to. It wasn't because I wanted to be superhuman or god-like or special. Plus I figured as soon as Vought or the government found out what I could really do then I’d never see the light of day again.”

"But how did you keep it a secret from Vought? They have so many fucking connections." He presses.

"Honestly Ben and I didn't figure it out until the 60s."

"Why is that?"

"The first time I died it wasn't a supe that killed me so there wasn't a change. But later when more supes started coming out of the woodwork, that's when we realized it. And I didn't care."

"Somehow you had to care." Butcher leans forward in his chair, looking at you like you're crazy.

"I didn't have a reason to. Ben liked the spotlight and I didn't."

“Is that why you stopped being Indigo?”

“It’s my turn to ask a question cowboy.” You tap your glass with a smile. “Who’s Ryan?” You had heard Hughie and Butcher whisper the name a few times, figured that it was another supe they were planning to merc.

He hesitates. “Homelander’s kid.”

“He has a kid?” Your mouth drops open in shock.

How does Butcher know that? Is it because he's so obsessed with Homelander that he's going to ask Ben to go after Homelander's son? No. No way. Like hell I'm gonna let this guy kill a kid.

You try to think of a reason why Vought would keep Homelander's son out of the media, a reason why they wouldn't show that the golden boy had a perfect son.

“But how I mean-“ You stop tracing Butcher's face, watching the way his eyes harden, and how his jaw locks together and you realize why Butcher knows about Homelander's kid. “Your wife.”

Butcher doesn’t answer, doesn't confirm what you've said, instead he pours more from the bottle into his glass.

Wow that’s fucked up.

“I’d say I'm sorry again, but I don’t think it’s going to help and honestly I thought my life was way more fucked up than yours. Guess not.” You take a sip from the glass in front of you. It burns pleasantly as it travels down you throat reminding you how much you missed it. “It got old quick.”

“What did?” Butcher looks up from the wooden table.

“Being a hero dealing with all that Vought shit. Plastering a smile on my face, flaunting in front of the cameras, it's not all it's cracked up to be. Ben liked it. He was always in the spotlight, the golden boy and I was too, but we’d been doing it for years and I always- I don’t know- wanted a family.”

Your mind suddenly goes back to the night you told Ben that, the night that you told him what you wanted and how today Ben professed that he wanted to be the one to give you those things, always had wanted to give you those things.

The fight you just had resurfaces in your mind, thinking of how angry he was at you for telling Rosemary the truth about him.

I made my choice. She made hers. One day I think she'll warm up to him, but until then he's just going to have to get through this.

Just because you believed that did not make it any easier. Your heart was tearing in two. You wanted Rosemary to love him the way you did, but at the same time you were scared all over again that this would all be too much for Ben, too dramatic. He didn't like drama, never seemed to.

“Really?” Butcher doesn’t look convinced by your confession.

“Yeah. Plus I was pregnant with Soldier Boy's kid. Vought was obsessed with Ben and I know that if they knew about Rosemary they wouldn't hesitate to take her away. It would have been worse if they knew what my power was. I doubt they would have let either of us vanish into thin air. But even before that I was seriously thinking about getting out-“

“And Soldier Boy fucking Countess was the final nail in the coffin eh?” Butcher's smirk makes your stomach flip flop.

You were still trying to forget that. Really trying to forget that.

“Yeah.” You grumble into the glass momentarily remembering the night at the premiere, but this time seeing them together doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. And instead it’s replaced by Ben the past few days, the one that continued to reassure you of his love, the one who continued to hold you close to him, the one that kissed you whenever he could, the one who patiently waited for you, and the one who reminded you of the boy you lost all those years ago.

Butcher watches you for a moment. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been hard.”

You look at him surprised. It was the first time that Butcher seemed to actually, well, give a shit.

“Thanks. It was.” You wait a second. “So how did you meet Hughie?”

“Why is that important?”

“Because he’s nothing like you. He’s a good kid.”

“You sayin I ain’t a good person love?”

“Yes that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Butcher has the audacity to smile. “You know what I think? I think you pretend to be a good person but you’re really just a bitch who probably didn’t get enough hugs as a kid.”

You lean back in your chair feigning shock. “Is it that obvious?”

He shakes his head with a chuckle. “I don’t see how you got mixed up with Soldier Boy in the first place.”

“I did tell you.”

“What?”

“I didn’t lie about some of the things I said to you the first time we met. Ben and I grew up together. We were friends before all of this.”

“And you what? Followed him?”

“Something like that.”

Butcher sits there for a second tapping his finger on the crystal glass in his hand. Everything in Legend's home was vintage or old, the glasses included. You could remember drinking out of these same glasses years ago, on the porch behind Legend's house the day you realized you were pregnant and you told him you were leaving.

Legend didn't know, but you think deep down he did. Anyone who knew Ben couldn't dismiss how much Rosemary looked like him. Not to mention Legend knew what happened that night between the two of you.

Butcher opens his mouth, but as he does, Ben appears in the kitchen doorway. He still looks a little angry, frown prominent on his face, but his green eyes look from the glass to Butcher to you.

"That's my cue." Butcher grunts. "See you in the morning poppet." He vanishes down the hallway behind Ben leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen. It seems smaller with him standing there in the door, blocking most of it with his broad shoulders and wide stance.

"Are you going to come to bed?" He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the doorway.

"Are you going to start yelling at me again?" You raise an eyebrow.

"I wasn’t fucking yelling." Ben grumbles. "And even if I was, you weren't exactly whispering."

"Sounded like yelling to me." You frown at him, before looking down at your glass again.

So much for an apology. Then again I probably owe him one too.

Ben’s jaw tightens. “Please come to bed.” His voice is composed, but you can still hear the tinge of his anger seep through.

"Surprised you said please. Finally using those manners I've heard so much about." You snark before you can stop yourself.

That is not helping anything.

"Come to bed." His teeth are gritted together.

“Why?"

"Because I said so."

"You are not my dad Ben. You can't just order me around."

"Just fucking come to bed!" He snaps straightening from the door, eyes blazing.

"Why is it so important I come to bed Ben? You need me to read you a bedtime story or something? Or is it because you want to have sex? I hate to break it to you, but I don’t really feel like having sex with you right now. And I don't think I will anytime soon if we keep fucking fighting about stupid-“

“Because I can’t sleep without you there damnit! I never have been able to even when we were fucking kids!"

You pause shocked. Ben had never admitted that before. You were still trying to get used to when he admitted that he loved you how open and vulnerable he’d been, but this-

He’s frowning at you waiting for you to say something, but when you don’t. He turns and stalks back towards the stairs to descend into the basement where the bedroom the two of you were sharing was.

Guilt breaks something in your chest, because now sitting out here felt like a punishment for him and you didn't think that was right.

Damn it.

You wash out the mug in the sink followed by the glass, but you look at the half-full bottle on the table.

Maybe I should bring it with me?

It swings from your hand as you walk down the dimly lit hallway descending into the fully furnished basement. You weren't thrilled with the room, had insisted that Legend change the sheets and spray down the room before you could sleep in there. You knew him, and knew exactly what had happened Legend's house since he had it custom built years ago.

Ben is sitting on the edge of the bed, smoking a blunt that he probably got from Butcher, who seemed to have an endless supply for Ben, much to your annoyance.

"I'm such a fucking pussy. I shouldn't have said that." He mutters more to himself than to you. His gaze is lowered on the shag carpet.

It was the first time that you'd heard him say something like that since he came back to you, something that sounded more like Soldier Boy than the boy you grew up with, sounded more like Ben's father.

"Ben." You sigh, putting the bottle on the bedside table, before you tilt his head back to look at you, hand cupping his chin. "You're not a pussy. I can't sleep without you either and there’s nothing wrong with that. I don't want you to feel like you can't say stuff like that to me. I love you and I won't judge you for that or think less of you. I will judge you for saying stupid shit like you did earlier."

“I’m sorry.” He sighs out a breath of smoke. “I just hate that she doesn’t like me. I’m her father she should like me-“ He repeats the same idea from earlier.

“She just needs to warm up to you."

“Maybe.” Ben mutters. "Or maybe she won't."

He looks upset. But not his usually angry upset, more disappointed and you decide that’s worse. Ben was so strong and didn’t allow himself to give in to his emotions the same way everyone else did. You hated that about him, but you were the only person who knew why. Ben's father had made him believe that showing emotion made you weak, you were there a few times that he yelled at Ben, heard the horrible things that he shouted at his only son, and it broke your heart. If it was your lot in life to bring him peace, to show him love, and to teach him that it was okay to be vulnerable, you happily would bear that cross.

You gently push back on his shoulder so he’ll move his forearms where they rest on his thighs and so you can sit on his lap. Ben’s arm comes around your waist to hold you to him, while the other continues to rest between you when he takes another drag from the blunt. “Ben, I promise she will.” Your knees rest on either side of his hips as you balance on him, ignoring the urge to wrinkle your nose at the smell.

“Your family never seems to like me.”

“She’s your family too and Lou loves you.” You brush his hair back from his face and he leans forward into your touch. "She's an excellent judge of character. Pretty soon she's gonna be drawing you in the family portraits and once that happens you're in, there's nothing stopping you."

Ben's mouth twitches but he doesn’t smile. "She's cute."

“She is. And if she likes you, you’re doing something right.” You smile at him. “And my family liked you it was just my mom who thought you were the devil. My brother thought that you were okay and my dad liked you plenty. Remember he never ratted you out when you slept in my room?”

“He was a good man. We would talk sometimes.” Ben blows out a lungful of smoke and this time your nose wrinkles at the offensive smell, before you realize what he’s just admitted.

Ben notices your discomfort and flicks the blunt into the ashtray shaped like a naked woman on the bedside table.

“About what?” Your father had never mentioned any conversation with Ben or at least you didn't remember him saying anything about Ben, beside your father's usual questions as to what Ben and you were going to do that day.

“You.” Ben whispers, not meeting your eye.

“When?”

“Sometimes I’d come try to see you when you were out with Howard." Ben sighs his name. "Ended up talking with your dad.”

“Are you serious?”

He nods hands gently stroking along your waist.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you came by?”

“Didn’t think it was important Sweetheart.” Ben pauses eyes flicking up sheepishly to look at you. "I didn't want you to think that I was hanging around waiting for you to get back. I was but-" You can tell that it pains him to say it, like he didn't want to admit he cared, but the thought that he came by to check on you made you happy.

“What did you say about me?”

Ben presses his lips together.

“Ben?”

“He wanted to know how your artwork was coming along, what we had done in the past week. Stuff like that. One time he said he didn’t like Howard either.”

“What?" Your hands tighten on Ben's shoulders in shock.

“He said that he hated the way you looked whenever Howard came around and then he said if he was gonna give his permission for anyone to marry you it was going to be me.” Ben shrugs it off as if he hasn’t said the most shocking thing you’ve ever heard in your life.

Your father would ask you about Ben occasionally and only when your mother left the room. He always seemed pleased when Ben would come pick you up, one time he gave Ben some money so he could buy tickets when you both went to a carnival, but you had no idea that they had talked about Ben marrying you.

“Hold on. Did you-" You pause for a second. "Did you ask my father if you could marry me?”

“No.” Ben answers quickly.

“Well then did he say why he didn't like Howard?"

“He said he liked how happy I made you. Said that you would always be singing in your room after you saw me.” Ben smiles one of his hands curving around your hip to hold you steady on his lap. “I told him I was sorry he had to hear that. You have many talents y/n, but singing is not one of them.”

“I don’t want to hear it from you. There’s about a million tapes of you trying to sing, not to mention you trying to dance. I wanted to jump out the window when you dragged me to that Solid Gold Music Video shoot.“ You roll your eyes at him.

Ben presses a hand to his chest as if offended. “You don’t like the way I dance? Because I happen to remember a few times that we’ve danced together and you certainly seemed to be having a good time.”

“I’m a good actress.”

“Sure.” Ben snorts. “Then again I think I’m good a few other things too. Things that I wouldn’t mind showing you sometime.” His arm wraps around your waist as he pulls you into his chest, lips catching along the shadow of your jaw.

“You’re awfully sure of yourself I’ll say that.” You laugh.

"Mhmm." The rumble of his answer seems to vibrate down your spine spreading warmth in its wake.

"Ben." You warn, as his hands begin to play with the bottom of your shirt.

"I know." He whispers raising his eyes again to look at your face with a soft smile, but you can still see a flicker of disappointment behind them.

Deep down you knew that you were getting closer to forgiving him, but it had only been two days, and everything between the two of you was still a little rocky. You wanted things to calm down again before you took that big step with Ben again. You didn't want to rush it, and you could see that Ben didn't want to either.

"How about tonight, we do something a little different." You trace your index finger over his lips, loving the soft curve beneath the pad of your fingertip.

"What do you mean?" He looks confused.

"You'll see." You murmur against his lips as you drop your mouth down to his, losing yourself in him all over again.

A/N: I know it's been a while guys and I know it's crazy to end it on another cliffhanger but... I'm sorry, not sorry? I hope y'all enjoyed this one. I'm sorry it took me a while to get it out, the writer's block is turning into a soul sucking abyss, but honestly, what's new? 😂 Hope that y'all enjoyed this one and I'm excited to hear what y'all think!

As always thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for the series let me know:)

(Also if you have asked to be apart of the taglist and you are not being notified- I am trying to fix it, but it's being weird. Please let me know if you haven't received a notification.)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

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#soldier boy x you #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy/ben #jensen ackles soldier boy #jensen ackles #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #billy butcher #hughie campbell #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fic #the boys s3 #the boys season 3 #the boys tv #the boys series #the boys

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months ago

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Please a Johnny storm x reader? The reader is a baker and she bakes valentines treats for Johnny even she gives Johnny family too

‘No.’ You said.

‘I didn’t even do anything yet!’ Johnny exclaims as he pulled his hand away from your Valentine’s Day heart cookies with raspberries and white chocolate chip that were on the cooling rack. It’s not his fault they smelled amazing and that you were an absolute genius when it came to baking delicious foods, besides Johnny was naturally under the assumption they were for him, especially seeing as how you would always leave him a tupperware box filled with everything you’ve baked for him.

‘They are not for you this time.’ You told him as you watched his eyes widen in disbelief before gesturing to the heart shaped cookies on the cooling rack, as though the thought of you making something for someone else outside of him was something he couldn’t fathom, and he couldn’t. ‘Not for me? I’m your boyfriend and it’s Valentine’s Day, who else could they be for sweetness? Nobody asked you to be their valentines behind my back did they?’ He says with a pout forming on his lips that never failed to make you smile at how cute he was being, even if it was as when he was being all whines and pouting over not getting something he wanted.

‘It’s for your family.’ You replied with a chuckle as you focused on piping the four chocolate cherry muffins -one for each family member including your goofy, hotshot of a boyfriend- with fuchsia pink icing, smiling when you felt Johnny’s arms latch onto your waist as he rests his head on your shoulder, his doe eyes were now soft as was his smile as he watched you do what felt like second nature to you with curiosity and awe. Johnny didn’t know how you could so effortlessly make such delicious treats, but it was only just one more thing that he adored about you, for watching you bake happened to be his favourite thing to do becuase it meant that he got to be your taste tester for your first batches.

‘My family doesn’t deserve your sweet treats, Valentine’s Day or not.’ Johnny stated as though it made perfect sense, but to you it sounded as though you were listening to a child like tantrum on how your boyfriend didn’t like to share your creations, only ever wanting to selfishly hog them all to himself under the guise of wanting to give you some constructive criticism; of which somehow includes taking extra tastes tests to reaffirm his thoughts on your baked goods.

You scoffed as you set aside the icing bag to look at Johnny, resting your hands on his shoulders. ‘And let you eat everything like the gluttonous monster that you are? They at least deserve something from me to show my gratitude in being welcomed into the family.’ Which was true. Sue, Reed and Ben had been nothing but sweet and welcoming to you when Johnny first brought you to the Baxter building, apparently to them Johnny only referred you as the really cute baker that smelled like cookie dough before they got your actual name that night at dinner.

In actuality Ben wanted to help you bake this morning, but you were very insistent that you do all the baking for him and his family for this particular day, a day of supposed celebration of love where love of all kinds was encouraged to be shown through overly expensive gifts. You hated that aspect and decided to make the people you love sweet treats with your barehands, after all it was better then buy some mass produced sweet treats that wouldn’t taste anywhere near as good as your own.

Johnny’s smile widened upon hearing you speak so kindly of his family, loving how you were wanting to show your thankfulness towards them by making something from your barehands, something that Johnny had soon learned was your version of a love language with how often you did similar things with him now and then. ‘They love you more than enough.’ Johnny reassured you as he pecked your cheek, holding you closer to him just so he could cover more of your face in kisses, all the while as he whispered words of comfort to your overworking mind. ‘But I will always love you more becuase I am your boyfriend, not that I’m jealous that they’re getting all this sweet stuff and I’m left on my own.’

You couldn’t help but laugh as you moved back to grab one of the chocolate cherry muffins and present it to Johnny. ‘I didn’t forget you stupid, you know I’ll always think of you when I bake.’ You tell him as you watched his eyes shine excitedly as he reached out for the muffin, shoving it into his mouth and groaning as the taste of cherries and sweetness of chocolate hit his tastebuds.

‘Is it because you love me?’ He says through a mouthful, something you smack him playfully on the bicep for before wiping smears of fuchsia icing near his lips.

‘No because I frequently remember the time I had to stop you from getting salmonella.’ You said and Johnny looks at you unimpressed, remembering that embarrassing moment in his life as well as you did, though he was too proud to stay so but you were able to see through him and knew his true feelings on certain things.

‘That was one time! We promised we wouldn’t talk about that.’ He whines as he swallows the remains of the muffin before placing his head against yours, where you could almost taste the cherries and chocolate on his lips with how close he was to brushing against your own. You smile as your hands reached to hold his face, caressing his cheeks as you felt yourself at home with the silly man you got to call yours in front of you.

‘Sure now I need my beloved taste tester to help me bring all these treats to his family, all without feeling tempted to eat them after devouring his own muffin within seconds.’ You whispered to Johnny, looking him deep into his beautiful brown eyes, only to find love and affection looking back at you as you felt yourself wanting nothing more then to stay within his arms for the rest of the day but you really needed to give Ben, Sue and Reed their valentines baked goods. ‘Do you think you can do that for me?’ You finished.

‘For you sweetness? I’d do anything.’ Johnny answered honestly and he kept his word as he helped you give his family their sweet treats, albeit teasing Ben a little bit before giving him his treats per your request; and not once did he take sneaky bites behind your back either and you treated him greatly by giving him his baked goods, all of which were filled with his favourites you’ve made in the past.

You may not like valentines as a whole, but if baking for your loved ones and seeing their happiness upon their face whenever they took a bite? Then you’d be more than willing to keep doing so into the nearby distant future for your family.

#johnny storm x y/n #johnny storm fluff #johnny storm x you #johnny storm imagines #johnny storm x reader #johnny storm imagine #johnny storm fanfiction #fantastic four x reader #fantastic four imagine #fantastic four imagines #mcu x reader #mcu imagines #mcu imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines

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ptq3000 · 2 years ago

Text

bakusquad w/ quiet but caring fem!reader

reader has a portal quirk which allows her to make portals and teleport.

—

> everyone in 1A thought you were a complete bitch since you never sought out to talk to them. you just had a resting bitch face

> one night after training, iida was struggling with making the communal food and he was going abt the whole process sluggishly.

> you noticed, so you walked over and gently took the knife out of his hand and took over. he just stared at you in shock as you quickly but perfectly cooked dinner for 1a that night.

> you found it calming, so you silently decided to cook dinner for the class once a weekish. maybe twice if you were generous.

> everyone is super thankful for the food, but nobody really said anything else to you.

> you were feeling like cooking in the dorm's kitchen today, so you started to make spaghetti. you were making the marinara pasta and alfredo pasta since you didn't know which kind everyone liked. halfway through, denki came up to you.

> "thank you for dinner, y/n. your cooking is always super good," he praised. you nodded in acknowledgement, but didn't say anything.

> denki then asked if he could rest himself on you and you obliged, seeing nothing wrong with it. he wrapped his arms around your waist and his head rested on your shoulder.

> you both stood like that as you continued to cook. mina took notice in the silence without denki and glanced over at the kitchen to see you 2 together

> mina quietly, but super excitedly got most of 1a's attentions. "guys!!! look at denki and y/n..they look so cute," she ranted.

> people started to watch you and denki as you offered him a bite of the pasta and he approved it. you softly smiled at denki and everyone saw how sweet you actually were.

> unwrapping denki's arms from you, you carefully set the table with both pastas in the middle and went over to iida to tell him that dinner was ready.

> to say you were shocked that everyone was already staring at you was an understatement. hell, even bakugo had his gaze on you. you nodded in greeting and quietly announced, "food's ready."

> the bakusquad started to include you more, unintentionally. yk? it just kinda happened.

> sero and denki started hanging around you whenever you would be in the kitchen making something. you would 'accidentally' make extra portions just because you knew one of them would ask for a bite (denki would definitely attempt to eat all of it.)

"y/nnn" denki drags out your name as he dramatically lands on your lap. you look at him and he continues. "can i have a bite? it smells so good." you smile as you answer, "of course, there's extra on the stove."

"hey y/n, what's that?" denki looks to see sero pointing at your food. "just something i was craving. i accidentally made extra, so you and denki could have it. it's on the stove still if you want any," you explain with a small smile.

> jirou is 9 times out of 10 awake til 3am. she can never fall fast asleep unless she's absolutely exhausted. most times, to help her fall asleep, you stay in her dorm as she puts movies on to entertain the both of you. she's out like a light when you sleep in her dorm.

> you 2 also share playlists with each other, fight me. jirou loves when she plays a song on her speakers and she finds you bopping your head to the music.

"thanks for coming over. sorry for waking you up, y/n." she softly says, opening her dorm to let you in. you sleepily drag your pillow and blanket into her dorm, settling on the floor.

"it's not really a problem," you yawn out. "i'll put a movie on, just get comfy and go to sleep," you assure her as she looks at you with guilt. you put a movie on and 10 minutes later when you look over to check on jirou, she's quietly snoring away.

> you and mina would go out together, yet whenever you were tired, you would just help her pick outfits. she was definitely your go-to gossip buddy, even though you usually found yourself listening to her as she rants abt this annoying girl at the mall.

"y/n!! i've been looking for you!! where have you been?!?" mina exclaims to you with a loud volume. "sorry, i was jus-" "yeah, yeah, sorry, but we need to talk and walk. emergency girlie," she interrupts.

you 2 walk to her dorm and she throws herself on her bed, using her hands to express herself as she rants. you sit at her desk and hum acknowledgements to show you were still listening and you try to give feedback to her. she normally ends up frustrated, so you teleport to the nearest gas station to buy her favorites.

"thank you so much y/n!!! you're a lifesaver babe." she praises

> you and kirishima, i feel like he would definitely be into taking care of you more than you taking care of him. he loves to be cared for, but he wants to show that he's there for you..so you 2 get together sometimes after school to have small 1 on 1 discussions together. it's normally abt each other's weeks and school work, but sometimes it drifts to the new restaurants in town or potential hangouts together.

"y/n, i need a little bit of help on the homework today. did you finish it?" kirishima asks.

you nod and without a word, walk to his dorm. it's routine with you 2 now. kirishima would ask or offer something and you would wordlessly walk to his dorm. you're not one for words and he gets that.

after you help him, kirishima lays down and you wait to hear what he has to say. "y/n, is there anything on your mind?" you smile and avoid his gaze as you confess. you're easy to get to talk, you just need someone to show interest in you.

> bakugo..he's the type to challenge you after school to spar. you're a decent fighter and you've already told him that you don't want him to hold back.

> so he doesn't and he sees you improving. you find new tricks or moves for your quirk and you never tell bakugo, always insisting to try it out in the moment. you have a small scoreboard in your room for whenever someone wins. bakugo says is super childish and stupid, but whenever he's at your dorm door to tell you something, you see him glance at the scores.

> speaking of being sparring buddies, he's also your gym buddy. sure, he has kirishima, but kirishima doesn't usually go to the gym straight after school, so you find yourself spotting each other.

"come on, woman. one more." bakugo insists, always getting you to fight the pain and work harder.

tears threaten to spill out as exhaustion hugs you close. "i can't, bakugo, my body's tired." you hang onto the pull up bar. "one more and i'll be off your back. come on." he says. his motivation isn't the best, but you oblige and do one final pull up slowly. bakugo helps you down, holding your hips as your body tires out.

—

a/n: wasn't as short as i had intended it to be, but it works. ngl, im actually super proud of this one :DD

#bakusquad x reader #denki x reader #sero x reader #jirou x reader #mina x reader #kirishima x reader #bakugou x reader #mha x reader

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stringcheezeislife · 2 months ago

Text

Filthy Fixation

Mr Reed x Fem!Reader [18+]

Summary: You've been stalking Mr. Reed, your charming neighbor for a few months now… your little crush spiraling quickly into obsession. One particular snowy evening, you decide to fulfill your filthy desires; whether he wanted to or not.

TW: smut, age gap, dubcon/noncon elements, rape, unhinged reader, hostage, drugging, bdsm-ish, torture, bound, gagged, blindfolded, sensory deprivation, manipulation, power play, oral fixation, aphyxiation, getting stepped on, role reversal, hate fuck.

Words: 10.9k

One-shot.

Also available in ao3

[erm. it's a bit dark so be warned. enjoy!]

-**-

Knock, knock.

You knocked on the door of your neighbour, Mr. Reed. The entrance stood tall and imposing, the door arching peculiarly. The pathway littered with snow and leaves, worn in a way that’s comfy, yet strangely gloomy. You glance at the closed curtains, wondering when he would appear. You clutch the heavy basket in your arms.

Your gaze wanders, caught by the strange beauty of his home’s architecture. It stood apart from the others in the neighborhood– grand yet slightly unsettling. Gated bars surround the property, its ornate pattern catching the eyes of anyone passing by. Though, it was the dense trees inside the yard that truly concealed the place, wrapping it in a veil of mystery and keeping the world at a distance– away from prying eyes. At first glance, it may have seemed like any other well-kept home, inviting even, but you knew better. If others knew what you knew...

Finally, you see a silhouette shuffling behind the glass window of the door. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself. A few moments later, the door swung open and the bewildered head of Mr. Reed poked out. His grey hair disheveled, as if not expecting company. His eyebrows scrunched cutely as his eyes adjusted slightly from the blinding porch lights, before adjusting and focusing on you.

“Ah, it’s you.” He smiled, finally opening the door fully, exposing the interior of his home. “I should’ve known, nobody else knocks when there’s a fully functional doorbell right over here .” He points toward the doorbell, eyes twinkling.

“Well, you know me, Mr. Reed. I’m not just anyone . I’m sure there are plenty others who do so as well.” You tease, adjusting the basket around your arms. His eyes follow your movement, and finally notices the large wicker basket.

“What’s this?” He asked.

“Some baked pastries, a few croissants, some tarts– I didn’t know if you liked sweets so I made others too. The bread is fresh out of the oven, so I’m hoping it’ll still be warm on my way here.” You touch the top covered with a checkered cloth, feeling the warmth emanating from it. “Yep, still is. Take it, it’s for you."

He gapes, clearly baffled. “For… me?”

“Yeah, you. Who else is here? Your wife?” You look pointedly at the ring on his finger. He notices, and lets out a laugh. You both knew why he wore it, and it wasn’t for marital reasons.

“Well, thank you dear. You’re very kind.” His smile never falters, though at times it looked farce, exaggerated. You held it up for him to take and he did, cradling it in his arms like a baby.

“May I ask, though. Did you really bake these yourself?” You nod. “That’s amazing, absolutely wonderful– oh wow, these look scrumptious.”

You beam, proud and basking in the compliments. You thank him.

“What’s the occasion?” He asked again, quizzically looking at you. “It’s the middle of January– I don’t think there’s a celebration that would merit this sort of gift.”

“I had some extras left from the batches I made for my niece’s birthday.” You shrugged. “Thought it’d be nice to share– spread a little kindness, you know?”

“Well, well– nothing like being the lucky beneficiary of a niece’s birthday leftovers.” He grins, “Should I be flattered or concerned about where I rank on the gift-giving hierarchy?”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic– you’re at least in the top five. Besides, I figured you’d appreciate a treat without the hassle of a party hat.” You gesture toward the basket with a grin. “Just don’t expect me to start singing ‘Happy Birthday’ – I have my limits.”

Mr. Reed huffs a quiet laugh, lifting the basket slightly as if weighing its worth. His amusement deepens as he takes in just how full it is.

“This…” You perk up. “might be a bit much, don’t you think?” He glances down the large basket, filled to the brim with various pastries and bread. “I might not even finish these till next christmas, dear.” He chuckles. Then, with a glance at the sky– where snow was starting to fall heavier– he shifts his stance, as if making up his mind.

“Listen, why don’t you come inside?” He says, already stepping aside. “The snow’s getting heavier, and you could help me with finishing these.” He joked, pointedly looking at the pastries. “Consider it quality control. ”

You chuckle, though not moving an inch from the porch. His blue eyes flicker to you, and he then places a hand over his heart, gesturing dramatically.

“What, you don’t mind sticking around with this old man for the evening, do you?” He looks at you with wide eyes; expectantly, almost like a puppy waiting for attention. “ Surely a sweet lady like you wouldn’t want all this food to go to waste.”

You fake contemplation, looking into the distance with a hand perched on your hip. You pause for a few beats, dragging out the moment, before beaming out a toothy grin. “Eh, sure why not.”

“Excellent! Come on then, come in.” Gesturing into his home, you step foot into his warm living room.

The interior was as inviting, the warm lights contrasting the cold winter outside. You’ve been here a few times, though never past the living room. Never past the pleasantries, past being acquaintances.

Recently, you’ve both bonded on your mutual interest of academia. Something you’ve picked on the previous visits. It quickly spiraled into something deeper, an actual interest, and you’ve learned about him more than the past few years you’ve been neighbours.

It was almost unfair– he’d always been charming but speaking to him left you utterly enthralled. He knew just what words to say; plucking your strings– as if playing you like a fiddle.

It wasn’t your intellect kink’s doing for sure– well, maybe that’s only half of the reason why. And surely not your daddy issues, isn’t it? Whatever the reason, Mr. Reed just has the quiet magnetism that draws you in, and without you noticing– you’re already in his trap. Hooked. Obsessed .

Your infatuation with Mr Reed is not entirely his fault, though. That’s just how you’ve always been. If something, or in this case, someone– catches your eye, it lingers, gnaws at you until you’ve had your fill. And tonight, seeing him in his casual wear, eyes bleary as if he’d just been napping and hair tousled that frames his handsome face– you’re not sure if you can hold it in anymore.

Placing down the wicker basket on the coffee table, he offers to take your coat. You smile and nod, taking it off to reveal the almost translucent white tank top underneath.

He raises an eyebrow as he watches, eyes flickering up and down your body– something you wouldn’t have catched if your eyes weren’t on him already. “Well, looks like someone’s committed to the idea that warmth is overrated. Who needs it when you've got… boldness?"

You smirk, shrugging slightly. “Well, if I’m going to freeze, I might as well do it in style, don’t you think?” You lean back slightly, meeting his gaze. “Besides, I’m pretty sure I can handle the cold. I’ve been known to warm up even the iciest of situations– especially when the right company’s around."

He pauses, seeming surprised by your advances. “Well, I didn’t expect that kind of confidence.” He says, his tone still playful, a sly smile gracing his lips. “You’ve got a way of keeping me on my toes– maybe I’ll have to reconsider my earlier assumptions."

You wink, and he shakes his head playfully as he heads inside to hang your coat. You flop down on the armchair facing the window, watching the trees outside swaying violently with the wind. You can’t help but notice that the weather was getting worse by the second.

That’s good. That means nothing would bother us. If there are others coming anyway…

It was no secret that Mr. Reed was a recluse– the kind of man who lived on his own not by necessity, but by choice. He seemed happy, content to be by his lonesome. Occasionally, missionaries or a neighbour or two would pay him a visit. You’ve kept track of it through your windows. Most leave. Some didn’t. You’re sure of that. The camera you’ve kept facing his home to capture video tapes of him to add to your collage made sure of it.

And he’s not that old, though he might be twice or thrice your age. Who knows? Who cares? Certainly not you.

You touch the top of your pockets that contain the chloroform-soaked handkerchief in a baggy. Leaning back into the armchair, you stretch out, toes curling in excitement. But you have to wait for the perfect moment to strike– a vulnerable moment. He’s quite strong for an older man– you’ve seen him carry a large trash bag almost his exact height effortlessly, so you need to be extra careful.

Mr Reed steps into the living room, the clicking of tea cups and silverware together resounding with each step. “Here we go, some fresh tea.” He places the tray on the coffee table as you clap excitedly. Taking a seat right next to you, he shares a smile watching your childishness. “You’re quite easily excitable aren’t you?”

You shoot him a look. “Nothing wrong with that. Life’s meant to be exciting. The little things, especially.” You pour the steaming hot tea into both your cups. “It’s not meant to be a meaningless string of jobs and responsibilities. We’re mammals! We’re meant to eat, hunt, and rest.” He looks at you, listening intently as you slide a cup towards him.

“But no! We’re too occupied with our own problems that we can’t even enjoy life. What are we, ants? We’re so busy with our daily lives that we can’t even take a break from responsibilities– and all that hooey. If we’re meant to be working day and night, why not grow six legs and create a hive mind, why don’t we?” You huff, growing more irritated.

Mr Reed nods, an acknowledgement and a slight nudge for you to continue. You take a deep breath, calming your racing heart. You pause to think, and before you could continue, he cuts you off.

“If you think about it, aren’t we creatures created to chase our desires?” He inquires, “There’s one thing that we possess that separates us from other mammals– or any other living creature; intelligence. ”

“Right,” You nod excitedly. “Intelligence! Not only does it make us a better hunter– it creates a deep, insatiable hunger . A hunger for love, for attention, fame–” You pause. “ Greed. It makes us greedy.” You grip the cup in your hand tightly, “But that’s not wrong, is it? Greed is what drives us. Greed is the damn reason we’re much like ants in the first place.” You chuckle at the irony, looking deep into his downturned baby blue eyes.

“We take what we need. We seize what we want. That’s just human nature.” You take a sip, keeping your gaze locked with his. “Don’t you agree, Mr Reed?”

He stares back at you, a flicker of something unrecognizable flashing through– hands on his chin, fingers on his lips. It then curves into a smile– a slight chill behind it.

“That’s true.” he straightens, bringing the cup to his lips. “But you’ve forgotten something, dear. Mammals don’t just eat, sleep, and hunt.”

You tilt your head. “What did I miss?”

He looks at you, a slight mirth in his eyes. “They also, well, excuse my french, fuck .”

“Oh, silly me. Of course! The most important aspect in the circle of life.” You roll your eyes, looking at him pointedly, a smirk tugging on the corner of your lips. “I wouldn’t expect you of all people to say that.”

He crinkles his eyebrows in confusion, clearly offended. “And what is that implying, hm?”

“Well, for starters, I’ve never seen you with anyone. Even that ring of yours,” The silver ring on his ring finger glints under the dim light. “it’s meant to ward off suitors, is it not? Though I don’t expect it to work out much. Considering your…” You trail off, eyes wandering to marvel at his handsome features. “charming personality.”

“Well, for the record I am perfectly capable of... fucking.” He clears his throat, looking away from you; ears tinged red. “I’ve had lots of experience with women in my younger years, believe it or not.”

“So you still fuck?”

“...Emphasis on younger years, darling. Now , I choose not to– academia has that kind of effect, whether you want to or not.” He chuckles, scratching his chin. “Research was the only thing on my mind back then. Theology , like I said before. Now, not so much.” He mused, eyes wandering towards the back of his home. His tone grew darker, an uncanny smile gracing his lips. “I have… another endeavour in mind currently.”

You nod, pastries and tea completely forgotten. Before you could ask more, you’re startled by the ceiling lights flickering out with a loud click. Both of you plunge into darkness, only a small lamp illuminating the shadows.

“My apologies, I forgot to tell you the lights are set on a timer.” He patted his knees and stood, heading off to turn the dial clockwise. The lights crackled back on.

He strolls back to the coffee table nonchalantly, as if it were a normal occurrence. He sits back down next to you, picking up a pastry– an egg tart, munching on it delightfully.

“I’m not one for sweets, but I’m a sucker for these.” He moans, cradling the pastry delicately on the palm of his hand. “You simply have to share your recipe, darling. I’m quite the baker myself; how did you make it so creamy?”

You look at him weirdly, annoyed that the topic of conversation changed quickly. Also, if you had known his love for egg tarts, you would’ve laced it before you came. It would’ve made everything so much easier.

You hum discontentedly, reaching over to take a croissant for yourself. “Why don’t you tell me more about your research, Mr Reed?” He looks at you with surprise, munching on his second tart. “Surely, thirty years of research, all that effort, what did you find?”

He chews slowly, taking his time; contemplating. “I can answer that, but do you mind me asking a question first?” His tone casual, but it had a hint of something darker.

“Sure.” You nod, taking a bite of your croissant.

“Do you believe in god?” He questions, wiping away crumbs from the edge of his lips. “Of course, it’s a rhetorical question. But humour me–”

“No.” You cut him off, smiling sweetly. “There is no god for me.”

“Right,” He pauses, studying you, before clearing his throat. “Well. That’s understandable, really. Why bother believing in something that you can’t see, smell, or touch.” He exhales, shaking his head slightly. “So I’m guessing you’re a… correct me if I’m wrong– an atheist?”

“Not quite. I’m agnostic.”

“Damn.” He slaps his thigh in mock disappointment, a smirk curved on the corner of his lips. “Almost got it.”

You tilt your head, enquiring for him to continue.

“Yes! Well imagine this.” He leans forward, fingers thrumming excitedly against his knee. “A world teeming with belief systems, each with its own version of an ultimate truth. You’ve got your natural religions– those born from the earth, shaped by human instinct, folklore, and ritual. Then, there’s the big three– Judaism, Christianity, and Islam– the Abrahamic giants, sprawling across centuries, each claiming divine authority. Then the Dharmic paths– Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism, Sikhism– more focused on cycles, karma, liberation. And, of course, the existentialists, the nihilists, the deists, the pantheists… so many flavors of faith, each offering something, yet none with irrefutable proof.”

He pauses dramatically, eyes locked on you. Then, his voice drops lower, his smile turning contemplative.

“But you only believe in yourself? Admirable.” He nods, as if seeing something familiar in you. “I was once like you– skeptical, questioning, clawing for reason in the void. If God exists, why suffering? If He sees all, knows all, then why apathy? Is He merely watching– our feasts, our sorrows, our little indulgences? Omniscience as divine voyeurism.” A dry chuckle escapes him. “It never sat right with me.”

He exhales, gaze drifting into some distant memory. “So, I turned to books; scriptures, philosophies, esoteric texts. If I couldn’t find God, I’d find the idea of Him.”

He takes a sip, with you nodding slightly, bored out of your mind. “Thirty years of study, devouring the words of prophets and scholars alike, searching for meaning.”

He looks back at you, his smile sharpening. “Perhaps you know these things already. Perhaps you’re one of them – the ones who pretend not to seek, but secretly, deep down, are hoping for answers.”

You blink.

He smirks, tapping his temple. “See, people like you? They think they’re immune. Too rational, too clever. But the truth is, when you strip everything away– when the walls close in, when the silence stretches too long– everyone, eventually, starts whispering prayers.”

He leans back, watching you, waiting for your reaction.

“That’s… very interesting, Mr. Reed.” You nod lazily, leaning back into your chair. “But I gotta stop you there.”

He pauses. “What seems to be the problem?” His eyebrows knitted.

“Can you show me where the bathroom is? It seems that I drank a bit too much tea.” You pout, squirming on your seat.

“Oh.” He deflated slightly, perhaps disappointed. “Of course, dear.” Nodding, he led the way deeper into his home. He led you past the dark hallway, and gestured to the wooden door with a quaint sign hanging from a nail in cursive; ‘Bathroom'.

You went in and did your business, the stark contrast inside unsettling you. The ivory tiles gleam under the light, pristine, sterile– too pristine. It feels more like a surgical room than a place for something as mundane as washing your hands.

You shake the thought away, stepping towards the sink. Cold water splashes on your face as you watch your reflection. A smile formed on your lips, one you don’t remember forming. Have you been smiling like that this whole time…?

You feel your blood pumping, adrenaline spiking through your body.

Patience. Just a little more.

You put your hand in your pocket, playing with the baggy in your hands. The crinkle is deafening to you, but you keep your face neutral as you turn the door knob. You flinch, noticing a dark figure looming next to the door.

He startled you. You find him leaning beside the bathroom door with his arms crossed, watching.

The dim lighting casts sharp shadows along his face, but that ever-present, polite smile remains. You smile back awkwardly, hoping he didn't hear the crinkling of the baggy.

“Monthly business, I assume?” He muses, his voice smooth, easy.

You nod awkwardly. A lie.

“I hope you dispose of it properly. There is a specific bin in there, in case of… guests.” A pause, deliberate. “Like you.”

Your jaw clenches. Something about his tone irks you; it makes your fingers twitch, itching to punch the smirk off his face. Instead, you watch as he turns, heading toward the living room as if the conversation was mere small talk.

“Does that mean you get lots of guests, then?” You call out, leaning back against the bathroom door. “Women, especially?”

His steps falter. Just slightly.

He glances back at you. For a second you catch it– a flash of surprise, then something unreadable. You don't know what your expression looks like right now, but you're sure of the feeling burning in your heart. Jealousy.

His back still facing you, he looks forward; a solemn silence lingering. His posture shifts, tension creeping in where it hadn’t been before.

“...Yes.” He finally spoke out. “Like I said. Guests.” A pause. “It would be rude not to accommodate to your needs, no?”

Your lips curl.

“Kinda strange, don’t you think? Considering you barely have anyone visiting you.” You retort, crossing your arms. “I would know that– I'm your neighbor after all. And isn't it weird, a lone bachelor, yet having a waste bin specifically for… women’s menstrual troubles?”

His back is still turned, but you don’t need to see his face to know you’ve struck a nerve.

“No wife, no daughters, no family. Zip, zilch, nada.” Your eyes lock on his troubled figure, watching for the smallest reactions. “It’s nice of you, though. Thoughtful. But it does bring up some questions, don't you think?” You push off the doorframe, tilting your head. “Just… something to think about.”

Your tone is light, but the weight of your words linger. You see it in the way his shoulders stiffen. The way his fingers flex slightly before stilling. His silence only tempts you to push further.

A beat. Then another.

“You could be the most considerate bachelor in the whole world,” You say, stepping closer, taunting, voice mocking. “or a weird, creepy pervert .”

His breath is steady, but his muscles are not. You wonder how much you could push before he snaps.

You reach out, trailing your fingers on the fabric of his shirt before jabbing them sharply into his lower back. He flinches.

“Mr. Reed, the neighborhood pervert.” You mock, sing-song. “Has a nice ring, don’t you think?”

His fingers twitch– subtle, but telling.

“I wonder what the others would say.” Your voice lilts, dripping with mockery. “Oh, what a scandal! A pervert in our midst! What could he be up to? Stealing underwear? Lurking in the shadows?” You feel your adrenaline pumping, patience wearing thin. “Does he lure women into his home? I bet he does. I bet, he keeps them tucked away in his basement– indulging in his sick, twisted urges– ”

A sharp exhale.

Your pulse spikes. The tension between you tightens– like a wire stretched taut, waiting to snap. His posture stiffens– just slightly. But it was enough.

Fuck waiting. Take the bait.

Another sigh– measured, composed. But when he finally turns to glance at you, his mask slips. His smile is gone.

“Honestly,” He murmured, voice quieter now. “you're being ridiculous. All that… just from a sanitary bin? You jump–”

You don't let him finish.

Before he could turn to face you, you strike. The laced handkerchief slams on his face, pressing hard as he gasps– forcing him to breathe in the chloroform.

He claws at you, trashing, twisting, jerking– wringing his body from side to side to break free from your grasp, but you held on tight. Arms and legs locked tight around his torso, riding his violent resistance as he bucks like a wild animal. His strength was terrifying, but you don’t let go. You just had to ride it out until the fume went up his head.

It didn't take long. His grip weakened, his strength faltering, movement sluggish, until at last– he finally lay limp.

You crash on the floor with him with a thump, sending a sharp pain through your head as it hits the wooden floor. His body weight nearly crushes you, but you don't let go– not yet.

For a moment, you just lay there, panting. Months of training– it finally paid off. He struggled hard– slamming you onto walls, bruising your back and shoulder– you can feel the forming bruises pulsing. But it didn’t matter.

Finally, he’s yours.

Still in your arms, you press a lingering kiss on top of his head, fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him closer, pressing him flush against you. He doesn't resist. Can’t resist.

For a moment, you just breathe him in. The faint scent of his cologne, the heat of his skin seeping into yours– his warm body heavy against your chest. You can’t stop grinning, it almost hurts.

You savour the moment, only the raging winds outside accompanying the silence. The wind howls, rattling the windows. But inside, it’s quiet. Just you and him.

Finally.

–**–

Darkness ebbed away in suffocating waves, giving way to a dull, throbbing ache behind his eyes. Consciousness crept back in fragments, a sharp pulse in his skull, the distant howl of wind, the faintest sensation of warmth against his skin. His fingers twitched. Wrong. Everything felt wrong.

His breath hitched as he tried to move, his limbs were sluggish, heavy�� uncooperative. A haze clung to his thoughts, thick and unnatural, but panic gnawed through the fog with sharp, gnashing teeth. Where—?

A scent, too close. A presence, too near. Then– a voice. Low, and dripping with satisfaction.

“You’re awake?”

His stomach turned cold.

He tried to move, but couldn't. His arms were bound. Thick rope dug into his skin with every flex of his muscles. His legs, too, were just as useless.

A blindfold covered his eyelids, suffocating his eyes with darkness. Worst of all– something was in his mouth. A gag, holding down his tongue, choking down any words before it could form.

Shaking the fog in his head, his mind races– assessing the situation. Memory fragments piecing back together one by one.

You. The struggle. Your arms around his before falling unconscious.

It’s all coming back to him now.

He steadies his breath, keeping his composure. He dared not show any weakness– not giving you the satisfaction of protesting outright. After all, that’s what you wanted isn’t it? To see him falter, to see him sweat?

He doesn’t answer, keeping his silence.

“Hm. Silent treatment? You’re not being a good host here, Mr. Reed.” You muse, a playful tone in your voice. You crept around him, drinking in the sight of his bound and gagged figure.

“Hope you slept well,” A finger– your finger– trails on his jaw, featherlight, testing. “You were out for quite a while. I was starting to think I might’ve overdone it.”

He tensed. Your touch trails lower, down to the column of his throat, where his pulse thrummed frantically beneath the skin. His composure remained still, but his body betrayed him.

You huff a quiet laugh. “Oh, don’t be scared,” Your fingers tilt his chin up to face you, though the blindfold covers his sight. “I’d never hurt you. Not unless I have to.”

You sigh, almost wistfully.

“I really like you, Mr. Reed.” You perch on the table of his office, with him facing you. He was sat on his office chair; plush, soft. You were kind enough to plop him there, instead of the hard steel chair you found in his creepy basement. “Even if you’re kind of messed up.”

He’s been unconscious long enough for you to explore his home– a labyrinth, with doors locked from the inside. You had always found it strange, how Mr. Reed had always been the one to unlock the door for you.

It was never your hand in the doorknob.

The miniature model of his house in the office gives you an idea on what’s going on in his house of horrors– the pseudo-church. The dark, damp basement. The room with cages– you could only guess what– or whom– he kept in it.

The pseudo-church, though? That had been something else. It was… extravagant. Lavish.

A shrine to his own ego, you realize.

Religious texts lined the shelves, vinyl records stacked meticulously, and idols perched like spectators to his grand performance. A man so obsessed with his own image– of course, he had a place like this. A perfect set for a perfect facade.

You wonder who it is he’s shown it to.

You ran your fingers through his hair, grazing his scalp, caressing it softly, slow, deliberate. He shudders. A soft sound slipped past his lips, barely audible behind the gag.

Why wasn’t it you?

Trailing your fingers down to his ears, to the back of his neck– a sensitive spot– he couldn’t help but let out a gasp. Goosebumps rise under your touch, following every trail. With your arms looped around his neck– you pull.

The chair wheeled forward, colliding his body with yours.

Why didn’t he choose you?

You held him there, his face buried against your chest. Soft strokes ran through his hair, delicate, almost loving. He melts slightly in your arms, letting down his guard.

Then, you whisper, your voice barely a breath into his ear. “You don’t know how much it hurt me,” Your arms tighten. “Seeing those women coming into your home.”

You grabbed the back of his head, pushing him further– deeper into you. He struggled, body jerking against yours, muffled protests swallowed by the gag. His breath hitched, sharp and desperate as he fought against the suffocating warmth of your embrace. But you only held him closer.

“I wonder…” You murmur, the flames of jealousy burning. “Do they struggle like this?” Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging slightly, just to see him gasp for air. “Do they fight back? Or do they just… give in?” You pushed him back in, pressing him closer, feeling his body tenses against yours.

Seeing him like this; his breath uneven– shallow gasps, muffled by the gag, warm against your skin– it was intoxicating. His body trembled, muscles coiled in protest. He struggles against the restraints– not violently, not yet– but enough that you can feel his frustration bleed through.

For a moment, you enjoy it.

The great Mr. Reed– always so composed, so charming, with that unreadable, infuriating smile– now bound, gagged, and blindfolded. Just for your eyes. No witty remarks. No charming deflections. Just his ragged breathing, and the small, involuntary twitches of his fingers.

You exhale softly, running your nails behind the back of his neck, delighting the way he shudders beneath your touch. His pulse thrums faster underneath your fingers. You tug his hair back, tilting his head back, granting him a fleeting gasp of air.

“I don't really give a damn about the religious mumbo jumbo you're trying to sell me, Mr. Reed,” You mumble, your lips pressed against the damp line of his hair. “Nor do I care about your so-called research, honestly.”

You tug on the knot of his blindfold, slowly, deliberately. His eyes flutter open, revealing his droopy, resilient blue eyes. He looks at you blearily, finally taking in his surroundings.

You press a lingering kiss on the top of his eyelid. He flinches.

“I may not know faith, but I know what I want.” You whisper, drinking in his glares. “I'm a slave to my desires, you see,” Your lips curl. “and… it's telling me to want you.”

He doesn’t react. Not in the way you wanted him to.

His eyes just bore into you, steady, unwavering. He’s putting up an act. Controlling his breaths to be slow– measured, deliberate. He’s trying to keep his composure, trying to maintain the illusion of control. Of power.

But you notice.

The tension coiling in his shoulders. The way his fingers twitch against the restraints, curling into a fist. His shallow, uncertain inhales– like he’s still waiting for his next move.

You smile.

“You don’t like this, do you?” You murmur, leaning closer to him, your breath barely grazing his ear. “Not so fun when you’re the one being toyed with.”

You push his body forward, wheeling the chair back. You’ve been soft, teasing this whole time. You’ve been gentle. But now? Now, it’s your turn to take control.

You fingers brush against the desk, finding the letter opener tucked neatly in one of his office drawers. His gaze flickers– brief, sharp– from the blade, to you, then back again. Panic? No, something else.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you.” You whisper soothingly– teasing. “We’re just going to have some fun, okay?”

You start from the bottom, pressing the tip to the fabric of his shirt. One by one, the buttons give way under the touch of the blade. Slowly, you move your way up– each undone button revealing a bit more.

The final button pops open, exposing the smooth planes of his chest. His chest rose and fell, nipples perking and taut due to the cold breeze.

“Such pink nipples you have there.” You muse, tracing the metal blade around it. “Boop.”

You playfully tap it, itching for a reaction. His eye twitches and his breath hitches– only for a second. Then, nothing. The same cold, impassive stare.

Sitting there, bound and exposed wasn’t enough to crack him. The blindfold had taken away his control, left him unmoored. But now? Now with his eyesight returned, he had steadied himself, retaining some semblance of control.

You hum. A challenge is always welcome.

“I like it when you look at me like that, Mr. Reed.” You purr, pointing the blade up to his neck, putting enough pressure to remind him how fragile flesh can be. You watch his throat bob as he swallows. His muscles tense, but he doesn’t flinch.

You grin. “It’s making me want to break you harder.”

Your free hands move, rummaging his desk.

“And look what I found!” You open another drawer from his desk, taking out an egg-shaped vibrator. “I didn’t know you were nasty like that, Mister.”

His eyes widened at the sight, and involuntarily croaked out a choke through his gag. You grin wider.

“I wonder what you use it for.” You muse. “Self-pleasure, maybe?”

He rolls his eyes, a sharp, dismissive glare cutting through the dim light.

Maybe not, then.

You hum, jumping down from the desk to plop yourself on one of his thighs instead. He grunts at the added weight, body sinking deeper into the chair, his restraints digging into his skin. You can see the subtle signs of discomfort.

Good.

You’re glad you took those knot-tying lessons. Snug, secure, but just loose enough to keep circulation flowing. Just tight enough to hurt.

“Let's put this bad boy for a test drive, eh?”

You press the button, turning it alive. It hums in steady, rhythmic pulses in your palms. You turn it up to a higher setting, dangling it right on his face, swinging it side to side, like a pendulum. His eyes follow it briefly, before focusing solely on you again– maintaining his stance.

You gaze back into his eyes, watching him with amusement. He may have his composure for now, but not for long. You wonder how long it would take for him to break.

Pressing the toy on the fabric of his jeans, his body twitches– only a little. It was muscle reflex, you could almost hear him say. It doesn't matter.

Trailing it up higher, to his knees, his thighs– the vibration filling the silence alongside his muffled breaths. He doesn’t react– his unwavering eyes still locked on yours– but you could see his chest rise and fall, each breath growing heavier.

Finally, after teasingly lingering on his inner thighs, the toy finally arrived at its destination.

He couldn’t help but shudder– the vibration against his crotch was stimulating something deep within him– something he didn’t want resurfacing. You trail the toy up and down his crotch, from the tip of his rising cock down to his balls.

Circling it in a slow and rhythmic motion, you watch as his shudders turn violent, his breath stuttering– ragged. His body betrays him; reacting, responding.

Clicking the settings higher, you press it harder against him, the vibrator pulsing rhythmically. His jeans grew painfully tight, and you can't help but rub your palms against his bulge, making him cry out through gritted teeth.

His face is flushed deep red, while saliva drools down from the corner of his gagged mouth. He's struggling– for control, for composure– but every touch, every pulse of the toy betrays him. And that, more than anything, sends a thrill down your spine.

“You're so cute, Mr. Reed.” You cooed, rubbing his cock harder through his jeans, making his muffle out a defiant groan– cracks forming on his cold, unwavering mask.

“I bet it'll feel better if we didn't have anything in between, right?” You mused, pressing the blade just a tad deeper against his throat. Not enough to break skin– just deep enough to show who’s in control. He doesn’t respond, not giving you the satisfaction of an answer.

But you don't need to hear them to know how he feels; you can see the way his body betrays him.

His body tensing– the way his hips buckled slightly when the toy hummed against the tip. You could see the look in his eyes– half-lidded, slightly clouded– as he watched you with something unreadable. Lust? Defiance? Submission? It didn’t matter, that was all you needed.

You smile, dragging the blade down his chest and slipping your fingers in his belt. “Let's find out then, shall we?”

You took his belt off, throwing it behind you without a care. His eyes follow your every move, quiet, waiting. Popping open the button of his jeans, you then slowly– agonizingly– slid the zipper down. Sliding your hand down his boxers, you reach inside.

It stood erect without any resistance. It throbbed, following the beat of his pulse– and twitched when you touched the tip. Warmth emanating from his cock, as it throbbed under your fingers.

His eyes flicker back and forth between your hand– teasingly playing with the pre-cum leaking from his cock, and to you. His brow furrows in frustration as you teased him a little more, rubbing the tip of his cock with your palms in slow, languid motions.

Finally, you lock in. His breath caught as you gripped it firmly, slowly running it up and down his cock. You stroke it from the tip, down to the base of his shaft– slowly, sensually, using your spit and his precum as lube.

He closes his eyes shut– breathing growing more laboured as you stroke faster, running it up and down his shaft as he groans softly against his gag.

You watch him, amused, catching every little detail as pleasure takes course of his body. The way his lips trembled, gasping out with every shudder– teeth grinding to stop himself from moaning. His muscles flexes and tenses as he pushes himself deeper into the chair, avoiding your sly eyes.

Placing the letter opener down, you pick up the vibrator you've left forgotten. Knees deep in pleasure, Mr. Reed doesn't notice as your free hand trails down to his balls, before a click turns the toy alive.

He jerks– the unexpected pulses shocking his sensitive genitalia. He gasps, glaring at you through hooded eyes, definitely cursing you internally. You grin, before working your hands faster; clicking the control higher and higher, the toy humming faster against your palm.

The faster you stroked his girth, the more you could see his facade cracking. Seeing him struggle to maintain composure, resisting something not under his control, it just made you want to push him harder.

He was close– you could feel it.

You watch as his body tenses– hands clenched into a fist and eyes delirious as he nears his climax. Finally, before he could cum, you stop.

Taking the toy away, you also let go of his throbbing– ready to burst– cock.

Plugging the tip of his cock with a thumb, he protested– shuddering violently– crying out for a release that would never come.

It took a moment for his body to acclimate to a ruined orgasm.

He twitched and groaned, eyes damp with tears, before slumping back into his seat– delirious; before he shook it off– glaring sharply, his gaze piercing into you.

A smile of satisfaction creeps on your face, drinking in his sweaty, messy state. “Were you about to cum?” You cooed, teasing him as you pushed his hair back neatly with your pre-cum slicked fingers. He continued glaring at you without saying a word, breathing out heavily through his gag.

“Don’t be so cold, Mr. Reed,” You chastised, “We’re just getting started!”

“Now,” You wrap your legs around him; straddling him, pushing him deeper into the chair. He groans, eyebrows scrunched in agony from the pressure. His old bones can't handle all these strenuous exercises.

Pressing your body flush on his, you cup his face in your hands, cradling it softly, looking deep into his piercing blue eyes. “come here.”

You kiss him, a small, lingering peck on his chapped lips. You kiss him again. And another. Peppering his face with small kisses, marking it with bright lipstick.

He tenses with each kiss, bewildered by your actions. You were unpredictable. Soft and tender in one moment, but violent and pushy at the next. Just how could he know you were such a psycho?

You trail your kisses lower, down to his neck, his chest, peppering your mark along the way, his bellybutton, the dips of his hips– then finally down to his happy trail; reaching your destination.

Getting down on your knees, you gaze up to your neighbor, his sexy messy state igniting the throbbing feeling down your nethers.

Shadow cast upon Mr Reed's face as he looked down on you below, but you felt as though you could almost see him smile. Pressing his warm hard cock on your cheeks, lips grazing the shaft, nose rubbing his cock– his musky scent dominating your senses, you wonder, just how much more you could do to please him.

You're obsessed with him, yes, your need to dominate him was as strong; but the look on his eyes… made you wonder if he could dominate you just as well. The thought made your cheeks flush– imagining all the filthy stuff he could do to you.

Flicking a tongue out, his cock twitches as you slowly trail up to the tip, following the thick veins of his cock. The salty taste of his cock enveloping your senses.

How could he have you under his spell like this? If he’d known how much just a glance could melt you down in puddles, he’d dangle it over your head. But the thought just made your heart burn. Was it your ego? Pride? Whatever it was, you knew you and Mr. Reed were much more similar than you’d like to admit.

Determined to wipe off the smile on his face, you double down– reaching to pick up the belt you’ve left on the floor behind you. A lesson was in order, even if it meant whipping it out of him. Reaching out behind you, still kneeling on the floor, you realize that it was too out of reach– at least a few meters away. You swear, cursing your strength in the heat of the moment.

You turn your back to him, crouching on the floor with stretched out arms, reaching out to grab the belt. You ponder about the things you’d do to him. Which would be best? Whipping? Choking him with the belt? While you ride him? Oh, choices, choices.

Your nails graze the leather belt, as you fantasize about the filthy shit you’d do– just a little more– and as your finger finally loops around it– yay!– your head hits the floor with a thud.

Blinding hot pain throbbed as a shoe pressed your skull harder into the floor, twisting it with clear resentment.

It was heavy; relentless as it dug deeper on the back of your head. He had his other leg on your thighs– pinning you down– stepping on you with his full body weight. It was too much to bear, the pain shooting up to your brain– making it hard for you to even think. You hear him click his tongue far above you, voice dripping with disdain.

“Not so powerful now, hm?”

You wheeze out a response, the air knocked out of your lungs. Shadows cast on the floor as he shuffles around above you, shifting his weight on yours– sending a jolt of pain throughout your body. You twist, trying to shove him off, but he shifts again– knees pressed between your shoulder blades, locking you down in place. He binds your hands behind you, strained together underneath his weight.

Your mind stumbles, trying to catch up. He was restrained, bound. You made sure of it. So how–?

“You got careless.” He hums, grabbing a fistful of your hair– tugging it back– making your neck arch painfully. You wheezed out a gasp, as he looked down on you.

“You enjoyed yourself, didn’t you?” He continues, almost conversationally. Leaning over, he picks up the belt you almost had, gripping it in his hand. “Toying with me. Playing your little games.” A quiet chuckle, barely audible. “And yet, here you are. Beneath me.”

You open your mouth to answer, but he just pulled your hair back further, choking any words you had.

“Cat got your tongue?” He chuckles, a low rumble inside his chest.

Leaning down, his breath tickling your neck, his voice low, almost a whisper, “I didn’t expect a neighbour of mine to be such a dirty, perverted girl.” A pause, as he forced your head back further, forcing you to lock his gaze with yours, as much as you could see out of your line of sight. It wasn’t simmering with anger– nor with anything you could decipher. It was cold, watching. You feel your heart pound against your ribcage, pulsing inside your throat.

“To think I almost considered you a friend.” He sighs, before loosening his grip on your hair.

Your skull hit the floor again. At this point, you’re starting to worry about a concussion. Then, cold leather slithers around your neck, as his other hand wrapped around your throat, keeping it afloat. It gripped your jaw, as the belt tightened around your neck– strangling you. With air cut off from its circulation, you can barely keep a coherent thought.

“Not fun, is it?” He muses. “Being the one at a disadvantage.”

You open your mouth, maybe to bite out a retort– maybe to beg, to make a joke perhaps– but he pulls the belt tight, choking down any words that may form. Nevertheless, you strain out with the last few breaths you had, wheezing it out.

You laugh. A dainty, wheezy one, but a laugh nonetheless.

Mr. Reed pauses, loosening the hold he had on you, perplexed. Mustering with the air you had, you laughed harder, a large grin on your face– turning your head to face him. Cheeks flush red with teeth bared, you keep your gaze locked on his.

You’re enjoying this, he realized.

Tightening the belt on your throat, you choke, but the grin doesn’t fade. He coiled slightly, tightening his grip on yours.

“Disgusting.” He mutters under his breath. “You’re really a degenerate aren’t you?”

If you didn’t know better, you swore you catched a hint of arousal in his voice. Grabbing you by the shoulders, he flips you over, his grip still tight on your jaw. Hands still bound behind, he straddles you, his weight pushing out any air left you had in you.

He forces your head up, making you look up at him. A halo of light flares behind him, obscuring his face in shadows– like an angel. With the oxygen dwindling, your vision swims, and for a fleeting moment, you wonder if asphyxiation births revelations. Because, God help you, if he spoke now, you’d follow.

He watches you silently, keeping his grip locked tight– analyzing.

“Look at you,” He murmurs, tilting your head from side to side, as if examining something that’s beneath him. “Pathetic.”

You shudder, the way he looks at you– his voice? It sends shivers down your spine. He notices, with a furrow of his eyebrows.

“You really are sick.” He mutters, his voice low and cold– but it had a hint of something you knew you hadn’t been imagining. Lust.

“You say that like you don’t like it.” You whisper out, a smile still tugged on your lips.

His lips part, a flash of something unreadable passing through– only for a moment, then it’s gone.

Just as quickly, he reasserts control.

He pulls on the belt, yanking your head sideways– digging into your jaws tighter. You cry out what you could muster, painting a small smile of satisfaction on his face, only a little.

“I don’t.” He says, almost convincingly. Almost.

“Liar.”

His expression darkens. Releasing his grip on your jaw, his hands trail higher, up to your still grinning lips.

That same twisted, knowing smile.

It makes his jaw clench. It's infuriating. He jams his thumb inside your warm mouth, gripping the inside of your cheeks with his thick fingers. It stretches out, exposing the pearls of your teeth.

He wants you to plead, to beg – anything really. For mercy. As all the other girls had been.

But you.

Instead of submitting– anything – you run your tongue over his thumb. Tasting, sucking it– slowly, sensually, while keeping your gaze locked on his.

His fingers twitched, debating. He should be disgusted, repulsed– by how much you’re enjoying this.

But instead?

He finds himself leaning in.

“You wanted me like this, didn’t you?” His voice low, heavy, dripping with condescension. “You went through all that effort. Just to push me over the edge.”

You grin, still suckling on his thumb. “What gave that away?” You mused, breathy, despite the weight keeping you down.

He pinches your tongue between his fingers– smothering any words you had.

Playing with your tongue between his fingers, you moan– enjoying every little flicks and pinch as he pushes deeper, making you gag. His fingers were paced– deliberate, hitting you in just the right places.

His breath grows heavier looking down at you like this– a drooling mess from just a few fingers.

“Disgusting.” He mutters, but his actions says otherwise; finger fucking your face with voracity. You choke and gag, both from the belt around your neck and his fingers down your throat, but the sheer dominance, the power rolling off of him as he empowers you– it turns you the hell on.

“Look at you,” He mutters, lips curling as he smears drool across your face, wiping his fingers while trailing up to hair– pushing it back neatly– giving you a clear view. “Just a filthy Whore of Babylon, aren't you?”

His voice is thick with something dark, something raw. The way he looks at you– like he's disgusted, like he's starving– a raw, primal desire rolling out of him in waves you could almost feel it burning on your skin. It sends a shiver down your spine.

“You defile everything you touch,” He breaths, fingers trailing down to the column of your neck, slipping it under your make-shift collar. Your pulse thrums under his touch, exposing just how needy you were. “Worse than a sinner– you're a disease.”

The tension crackles between you, feverish and unbearable. You were delirious in ecstacy, and him, eyes brimming with lust; chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

“And yet you keep touching me.” You parted your lips to taunt, egging him on further. He tenses, jaw clenching. His grip on your throat tightens minisculely.

You laugh, soft, teasing. “Maybe I’m contagious, Mr. Reed.” You lean in, close enough for your breath to ghost against his lips. “Maybe you like being defiled.”

He pushes you back down, tightening his grip. “You talk too much.”

You gurgle, his thumb pressing down on your esophagus. “What's wrong?” You wheeze out, feeling quite lightheaded. “Afraid of the truth?”

He stiffens, lips parting as a sharp inhale fills the space between you. His eyes were dark, warring between control and the undeniable pull dragging him closer.

“You think you had me figured out?” His voice low, dangerous.

You tilt your head as much as you could, grinning cheekily like you've already won. “Haven't I?”

His jaw clenches. He hates it. Hates your confidence, hates the way you speak as if you've unravelled him, thread by thread. Hates that he hasn't moved, hasn't let go, hasn't killed you.

Then, before you could gloat any more, he moves.

Faster than you expected, he wrenches your wrists above your head, holding it in place while roughly taking off your collar– using it to bound your hands instead.

He stood, grabbing you by the shirt and shoving you down on his desk. Before you could protest, his body presses flush against yours, suffocating, overwhelming– forcing himself between your legs. His lips brush against your ear, dark, dripping with something possessive, something he doesn't even want to name.

“Let’s see how much you really know.”

Then his lips crash onto yours in a feverish haze. It was hard, passionate, not even giving you a chance of gasping for air. As if silencing every word you've thrown at him.

His hands wander, slipping underneath your bra to play with your breasts– and wandering down lower to your hips, your thigh, every touch blazing with goosebumps.

Taking off your trousers, still devouring your lips, he slips his fingers underneath your panties, teasingly pushing it to one side. A chuckle bubbles up as he feels how dripping wet you were.

“Dirty girl.” He mumbles against your lips, rubbing your wet clit. Your moans drown underneath his hot tongue, as he ravages you in ways that you can't even comprehend.

As you drown in ecstasy, bound, held down and touched, Mr Reed slips in two fingers inside you– making you gasp. The sudden intrusion tore you away from his lips, as his eyes looked down on you, watching your every reaction.

Immediately, he pushes deeper into you, pumping in and out, relentless– not giving you a chance to adjust. You cry out, tears in your eyes as pain flames out with each thrust.

“This was your choice. You wanted this.” He breathlessly mutters against your lips, a predatory look in his eyes as he savours your suffering. “Remember?” A smirk tugged on his lips.

With his other free hand, he picks up the toy you've left forgotten. Turning it on, it thrums alive and pulsates. Clicking to its highest setting, he presses it on your sensitive clit– making you cry out. You struggle, bucking your hips as he kept on finger fucking you– pain and pleasure mixing– turning you into a puddle as your brain turns to mush.

Each thrust of his fingers gradually felt less painful. It pushes in deeper and hits your g-spot– and for a moment, you were mindless– just a pain slut delirious in pleasure. It made you writhe and tremble, something deep inside your guts building up.

Mr Reed pins your wrist down, watching as you melt and drool on the desk– every twitch and whimper making his cock harder.

“Just a pervert aren't you?” He hums, pressing the toy harder on your clit, circling it in slow, languid motions. “Tell me, do you think you deserve to cum?”

You don't answer. You were too lost in pleasure– a mindless mess. He raises a hand and slaps you, gripping your cheeks in one hand– forcing you to look at him. You meet his deep downturned eyes, clarity coming back to you.

“I don't like repeating myself, dear.”

Wide eyed, you nod– confused but excited. Anything he wanted, anything he needed? You know you just can't refuse.

“Then beg for it.” He mused, eyes knowing.

Mouth gaping open, you try to think of what he wanted to hear. You try, but it's difficult with the vibrator on your clit– it feels like you're losing brain cells by the second.

“...Pl– please?”

“Please… what? Hm?”

He's toying with you. Playing with you like a hunter with its prey. You don't hate it.

“Please… can I–” He jabs another finger inside your cunt. “C-can I cum?”

“Again.” He says, enjoying every moment as he pumps you faster. You feel something warm building up inside you, begging for a release.

You gasp. “Can I cum?”

“What’s the magic word, darling?” He hums, pausing. He slips his fingers out, the onslaught gone– your insides feeling hollow.

“Please!” You plead, desperate. “Please, can I cum? I–” Bucking your hips on his palms, desperate to reach your climax. “I need to cum, please–”

He hums contentedly, fingers rubbing your clit in circular motions. “Only good girls get to cum,” He says, taking away your toy. “Are you a good girl?”

You nod vigorously, willing to give anything away just to feel the sweet release of ecstacy.

“Use your words.” He raises a hand to slap your thighs, the stinging pain almost enough to make you burst.

“I.. I’m a good girl.” You pant. “I’ll be a really good girl. I promise!”

“Aww,” he cooed, and you almost felt hope. “but good girls don’t hold their neighbor hostage, do they?” Your heart drops.

“Good girls don’t… befriend a neighbour with deeper intentions, no? Drug them, tie them up– use them as playthings?” His breath ghosts over your lips, head tilting to the side in mock contemplation. You whimper.

“That doesn’t sound very ‘good girl’ of you, does it?” His voice is sweet, but the venom beneath it makes your stomach twist. “Good girls don’t lie, either.”

You shake your head quickly. “I-I’m not lying! I promise! I’ll do anything–”

“Anything?” He echoes, a smirk tugging on his lips. “Now that’s a dangerous thing to promise.”

He leans closer, and your breath hitches. Wandering his hands to your thighs, his breath grazes warmly against your ears. “From where I’m standing, it looks like you’re still just a filthy little deceiver. A snake in the garden.”

“So tell me,” He tightens his grip on your thighs, strong enough to leave bruise marks. “How can a lying, scheming little thing like you repent?”

You tremble under his gaze, but your lips part, breathy and eager. “However you want.”

His eyes darken, a smile gracing his lips. “Excellent.” His hands snake up to your hair, pulling it back to meet his eyes. “From now on, you’re mine . Understood?”

You nod hastily, far too deep in to care. Mr Reed’s expression shifts, his lips curling ever so slightly, the barest twitch of amusement tugging at the corners. It was the kind of satisfaction that seeps slowly, rich with victory.

He pressed a lingering kiss on your forehead, a reward for obedience. “Good girl.”

You melt. His warm embrace making you feel all gooey inside. Trailing his head lower, his hands spreading your legs wide– he trails his lips down to your nethers, kissing your throbbing needy clit.

He hums, the warm vibrations on your clit better than any toy you’ve had. Using his tongue, it swirls and laps up your cunt– sucking and eating like a madman, drinking in your sweet nectar. You whimper and mewl, desperately writhing around, pulling against your restraints as you feel your orgasm building up again.

Seeming to notice your neediness, he pumps a finger inside you, hitting your insides in the right spots– fucking it deeper into you. His thick fingers were filling you up so deep– it felt like not even your own touch could satisfy you as much as he would.

He was ruining anything else for you– nothing else could lift you up to heavenly bliss.

Increasing his pace, his groans and hums against your clitoris made it throb harder, as your orgasm almost reaches its peak.

You scream as it crashes over you like a tidal wave, sweeping away every coherent thought, leaving only raw sensation in its wake. Your body tenses, every nerve alight with an almost unbearable pleasure that coils tighter, tighter– until it snaps. A rush of heat floods through you, shuddering tremors racking your limbs as the world narrows to this singular, overwhelming moment.

Mr Reed kept on eating you– riding out your orgasm together as you buck and twitch, holding your hips down as the waves ebbs and flow. And then, the slow descent– your heartbeat thrums in your ears, skin oversensitive, the aftershocks leaving you boneless and dazed, drifting in the hazy remnants of pleasure.

Laying there, dazed, you hear the shuffling of clothes thrown on the floor.

Looking up through your eyelashes, you see Mr Reed towering over you, his wicked blue eyes looking at you like a wolf eyeing its prey.

“Stand up.” He barks, pulling you forward by your restraints. Your knees buckle as he forces you to stand, almost falling if it hadn't been for his arms catching you in time.

“Careful, dear.” He mused, arms wrapped around you, his tone almost tender. “Can't have you breaking so soon, now do we?”

You shiver, as he spins you around facing the desk. Your palms rest on the wooden desk– legs splayed wide as he pushes himself between them.

“Now,” He whispers behind you, his warm breath on your ears sending a shiver down your spine. “Bend down, whore.”

With his hard cock pressing up against you, he pushed your head down, pulling your arms behind you. Grinding his girth between your thighs, pressing up against your sensitive clit, you whimper, the stimulation almost too much to bear.

Caressing your hair– pushing it back, he shushes you, whispering affirmations. “You're going to be a good girl for me aren't you?” Kissing the back of your shoulders, he mumbles, teeth nipping on your skin.

“Because I can’t hold back much longer.” He growls, before plunging into you.

Both of you groaned as he entered– finally entwined in flesh. He paused, only for a second– adjusting to your tight insides. Groans escape his lips as you clenched and bucked around him, holding on to your hips for balance.

Slowly, he moved. Your cheeks dig into the wood of the desk with every thrust, and he picks up the pace– the desk creaking and groaning matching his rhythm.

You gasp– the pain and pleasure of being manhandled fucking you up deeply. He grips the belt restraining you behind your back– pulling you in deeper– harder– controlling your reins. The cool facade he's worn cracked further, revealing the hungry beast he'd kept hidden.

“Look what you made me do.” He grunts between thrusts, gripping your neck from behind– choking you.

"I told myself I wouldn’t." His lips curl, eyes raking over you like you’re nothing more than a mess of impulse and desperation. "Told myself I wouldn’t waste my time on something so beneath me– on a pathetic little whore who doesn't know her place."

Slipping his hand to your throat, he pulls you up– pressing you flush against him, his hot breath on your cheeks. “And yet, here we are.” A chuckle escapes him, quiet, mocking. “Look at you. So eager. So desperate. You want me to ruin you, don’t you?”

You felt every flex of his muscles– his warm, soft yet rigid body– as he thrust up into you. You gurgle out a response, enjoying every moment as pleasure courses in your veins. He grips your cheeks harder, waiting for a response. Realizing you’re too far gone to respond, he sighs.

“Filthy, scheming thing.” He mutters, almost as if he's disappointed, yet there was a hint of admiration. Grazing his lips on your ears, he whispers, warm and breathless with a smirk tugged on his lips. “You really are disgusting.”

His pace was faster now, and you could feel his cock throbbing deep inside you– threatening to burst. Even in your delirious state, you heard something that almost made your heart stop. He uttered your name– his voice low and sensual– almost yearning. That was the last straw before you came again– a wave of earth-shattering orgasm melting you down. You clench and shudder, making him grunt– head resting on your shoulders– as his orgasm came too.

Both of you stood there, breathless and panting. Still wrapping you in his arms, he calmed his racing heart. Pushing himself off of you, you collapse on the desk– still shuddering from your orgasm, your belly warm and stuffed with cum. You feel Mr Reed’s warmth behind you, holding on to your hips for balance. He took a breath, pushing his sweaty hair back neatly.

Looking at him through half-lidded eyelashes, you smile. His eyes lock on to you, a devious grin forming on his lips. Leaning down, he kisses your neck, snuggling his nose in the crook behind your ears whilst taking off your restraints. “My good, filthy girl.” He hums, scooping you in his arms.

He picks you up in a bridal carry, shushing any protests. Pushing his way past doors, you finally arrive in a bedroom. It was comfy, with a queen-sized bed in the middle of the room. Laying you down gently, he tucks you in, smothering any whines with a kiss.

“Tell me,” he mumbles against your lips. “Do you feel better now? Getting exactly what you wanted?”

The question lingers in the space between you, heavy with meaning. You don’t answer, but he doesn’t need you to. He sees it in your eyes, in the way your body melts against the sheets, in the way you don’t pull away.

He chuckles, low and quiet. “That’s what I thought.”

Sliding beside you underneath the covers, he drapes an arm over your waist, pulling you flush against him. His breath is warm against your temple, his voice softer now, but no less possessive.

“Sleep, little lamb.” His fingers trace slow, lazy circles on your hip. “You’ll need your strength. After all… I’m not done with you yet.”

And with that, he presses a final, lingering kiss to your forehead– one last claim, one last reminder– before letting the darkness take you both.

-**-

#mr reed x reader #mr reed x femreader #heretic fanfic #heretic 2024 #hugh grant #mr reed #darkfic #heretic a24

126 notes · View notes

hueshy · 9 months ago

Text

pair: hueningkai x f! reader

warnings: drinking, reader is kind of stupid, overthinking, not proofread.. thats all, if i missed one or two lmk

genres: fluff, reader gets cute aggression because of kai, bad angst cause i don't know how to write it

you and the members are doing your daily hangout on fridays, playing videogames and laugh at the one who lost, drink until nobody knows where they are or what they’re talking about.

but today, something feels off

every one is bickering as usual but kai, you couldn’t help but notice at the way he's unusually quiet. hiding his mouth with his sweaterpaws, shy, quiet responses while his cheeks are naturally colored

dear god

you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, biting your lip whenever he speaks and pinching the pillow on your lap when his bangs slightly cover his eyes. ever since you sat on this couch you had the strongest desire to hug him tightly while you squealed on how adorable he is

if you did just that, he wouldn’t be weirded out right? he would receive the hug happily and giggle along with you, you think

soobin has noticed you staring at kai for awhile now, giggling on how mesmerized you look at the sight of kai and also how obvious you are, obvious to everyone but kai himself.

he approaches you and says,

“you’re clear as a crystal you know,” you hear a deep voice next to you, it’s soobin, you stare at him like he has grown two heads “what do you mean?”

he stares at kai who’s sat in the couch playing games with beomgyu then back at you, “do you like him?”

“…what?” he shrugs, “just curious”

you scoff and playfully roll your eyes, slowly mouthing a ‘no’ before going back to the couch to sit next to kai “who’s winning?” asking the two but eyes only looking at him. kai suddenly goes silent, you furrow your eyebrows and open your mouth to voice your worry but beomgyu beats you to it. “what’s wrong huening? why are you so suddenly quiet? you were so talkative just now" red cheeks, eyes staring down at the controller in his hands, everything but you, red ears.. oh? " don’t tell me—“ beomgyu looks at you for a second, “shut up!” “oh it is, isn’t it?” he teases, smirking. “what? what’s wrong? tell me!” you whine, desperate to know what’s up so suddenly.

“nothing! beomgyu-hyung is just being annoying” kai answers, irritated

you hum, furrowing your eyebrows once again, “is he really? c’mon tell me beomgyu!” as soon as you glare at him he nonchalantly shrugs, the dimple on his cheek appearing as he was smilling too hard

“ugh i was planning to share my chips with you beomgyu but not anymore traitor”

although he looked absolutely endearing when 'shy', you didn't like how quiet he is whenever you're around. he was practically ignoring you, but why? 'does he hate me now? what did i do? why is he barely speaking to me? we we're just fine 4 days ago..'

'is this the thing him and beomgyu didn't want to tell me? then why was beomgyu so chill and smilling about it?' negative thoughts ran through your mind back and forth, your heart starts to hurt.

"are you okay?" a soft, husky voice greets your ear, a whisper of an angel..

your dear friend, how could you forget he was next to you?

"i'm fine, not in the best mood" you hear a weak hum and a small, 'is that so?'

you continue watching the screen infront of you, you totally forgot you and the others were watching a movie but soon all of them fellasleep but you and kai

a finger taps your shoulder

"..would a hug from hueningie cheer you up?" he opens wide his arms while smiling softly, bangs now swept to the side, exposing his forehead, is this heaven?

the smile on his face fades seeing your hesitance, arms not as widespread as before

you feel horrible

you wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him, a sweet scent of vanilla drown your senses “..i’m sorry” he whispers into your ear, warm breath hits your cold skin, “it’s my fault right?” you nod against his shoulder, you gulp before saying “you hate me”

“no, no, you got it wrong! it’s just..” he whines and hides his face in your hair, your tummy fills up with butterflies at the action “i.. i recently figured out something, n-not something negative, well.. depends on how you take it” you feel his shaking fingers play with the ends of your hair

you stay in silence, waiting for him to speak up, you hear a shaky breath above you “i think i like you— no, i’m inlove with you, ..i, the way you make me feel, i didn’t know the exact name for it but now i do, y/n.. if you don’t feel the same way please—”

"you're not lying to me right?" kai's eyes widen "no of course not! i would never—" you take his face in your hands, closing the gap between you and him by bit, "then, would you kiss me?" he finds himself nodding uncontrollably, repeating 'yes' over and over again. "yes, yes.. would.. would you.. let me?" he stutters, you could feel the way his cheeks were burning hot, so cute, why would you say no?

"of course"

he kisses you, tangling his fingers on your hair and bringing you closer to him, he backs up for air then smashes his lips on yours

"you're so— desesperate to kiss me aren't you?" you laugh

"yes.. yes i think ive liked you for so long but i didn't realize until now” sighing he leans closer to you, foreheads kissing. “we.. are a couple now, right?” you hum and shrug after, “obviously, we just kissed”

“..good to know, question.. can we do it again?—“

"eww what the fuck! yn and kai are making out on my couch!" an annoying voice says behind you, you roll your eyes

“beomgyu!”

#huening kai x reader #hueningkai x y/n #hueningkai x you #hueningkai x reader #hyuka x reader #txt x reader #txt smau #txt x y/n #txt x you #hueningkai smau

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worriedvision · 5 months ago

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A romance with no romance - Sunday

Gender neutral reader, readers good friends with Robin here and they've had a big crush on Sunday, knowing he doesn't like them back. Angst lol, includes heavy spoilers from the most recent trailblazer quest (inspired by it tbh!)

You were a fellow singer, and you landed up meeting Robin and Sunday at the same time. It wasn't even related to your work, and at that point you were an upcoming vocalist. You didn't have a good time that day, your mentor seemingly disappointed that you couldn't find the confidence to wear an outfit too revealing to 'accentuate your voice'. Robin invited you to join the both of them, which you accept, and you start talking to the both of them.

Truth be told, Robin was such a lovely person to speak to. Free from the singing conversation, just talking as if you were just normal people. You didn't speak that much to Sunday, he seemed more reserved. It was when you saw him and Robin interacting that you foolishly fell in love. While he was embarrassed to say it out loud, you could feel how much he loved hearing Robin's performances. It made you want to strive to get an ounce of that attention, starved of positive attention in your pursuit for a successful career.

"Robin, I want to get better with my singing." You admit, Robin waiting for you to continue. "It feels like I'm trying everything I can, and I know I have some potential, but I'm so scared because nothing I do works."

Robin falls silent for a moment. She's smart enough to know that she is a very talented singer, but there's another factor that can be in play here.

Her influence from her brother.

Robin gives you an idea - ask out Sunday, and once he says yes you both will be out as a couple. You honestly didn't know what to think when she said it - was it really the fact you weren't being out there enough? Or surrounding yourself with the right people enough?

Regardless, you go ahead with the plan. Surprisingly, Sunday accepts. In any other scenario of this happening, you would be over the moon.

But you know Robin spoke to Sunday about the plan, and nobody was more important to Sunday than his sister. You weren't jealous of Robin, absolutely not, but you felt a twinge of guilt when Sunday accepted as you knew by the look in his eyes that you had some sort of feelings for him, and these feelings would never be returned.

He would hold your hand, tell people he loves you and you were like an obedient cat that would willingly curl up in his lap - leading to the inevitable 'thats so cute' reactions.

He did this publicly for months, but he wouldn't share any affection with you when it was you, him and Robin. He would always have Robin between the two of you, and you'd just hang out as you typically would before you became a 'happy' couple.

Fast forward to when Sunday had his downfall, you were suddenly in the spotlight for a strange reason - people were worried you were being used by Sunday as a pawn, as he would be projecting you out more than he did with his sister at times. When he got locked away, you got more popular. Your career was taking off!

But...you weren't happy. Neither you nor Robin were happy. Neither of you blame each other - you both know Sunday did those actions of his own discretion - but you silently thought to yourselves 'what if I did this differently '?

One night, you get visited by a strange figure. No features to identify by, you fear for good reason, and they give you a proposal.

"If you are willing to ensure your partner's punishment, Sunday will be set free." They state.

"...But how could I possibly help here? Even if I do that, isn't there a chance he gets caught and gets punished more?" You query.

"Sunday is a very capable man - he can survive." The cloaked figure replies.

"And what about outsiders? Won't they get suspicious when I disappear?" You tilt your head.

"That's a simple answer - people will pretend to care about your unfortunate disappearance, and then move on swiftly." The figure bluntly explains.

"...I'll do it. I'll take his place." You nod, the figure giggling before grasping you by the forearm. You lose consciousness, unable to stay awake.

When you next wake up, you're in a dark room. Thorns wrapped tightly around you, securing you as if you could run away. No windows, only a door in front of you somewhere, and even if you could get out of the room what was the chance of you getting caught?

Or of Sunday getting caught, as you were in here to essentially be a substitute.

Looking back at his way of describing you, you really begin to realise he felt hunted by you. As cute as his descriptions were, he described you as a cat as opposed to a songbird. He would talk about Robin as a songbird, perhaps he thought you were going after Robins career.

But it doesn't matter now. Your life as you knew it is now over. No career, no friends, pure solitude. The only thing you can truly yearn for is Robins wellbeing. You knew Sunday would be fine, and Robin would likely be fine, but you can't do anything more than what you have done already.

#sunday x gender neutral reader #sunday hsr #sunday x reader #hsr #robin #gender neutral reader #angst

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ashtavula · 1 year ago

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I don’t know if you’re taking asks or anything and this is my first time ever even asking anything on tumblr BUT ANYWAY

Trey, Azul, Lilia and Leona with a pastry chef/baker reader?

I just think it would be so darn cute-

You're right, it's a super cute concept!

Trey, Azul, Lilia, and Leona with a pastry chef reader

Trey:

- He's firmly convinced that he's found his soulmate. Seriously, Trey thinks you're absolutely perfect! The two of you often end up in the kitchen, coming up with new recipes and enjoying the fruits of your labors. Though, he does end up feeding you by hand more often than not. He just likes taking care of you. At least, that's what he claims.

-He can't wait to introduce you to his family, and show you their business. He's pretty proud of it, and the thought of you making things in his family's bakery makes his heart flutter. He's already dreaming about just how wonderful it would be to work with you, side by side in a kitchen surrounded by his supportive family. The idea of you being a part of his family, of being a Clover? He's struggling to stop himself from putting a ring on your finger right now.

Azul:

-Azul's torn between having you bake things for the lounge, or keeping your sweet treats all to himself. In the end, he'll have you whip up some samples for him to try, and then you can teach the twins later. Please don't comment on the fact that his cheeks turn pink when he's eating your desserts, or that he's always willing to indulge in something you've made, even though he's watching his weight.

-Speaking of his figure, he's more than a little worried about gaining a few pounds from eating what you make. Don't misunderstand, he loves you, but he's afraid that you won't like him as much if he gets "fat". He'll be over the moon if you try to make healthier sweets just for him. Azul also wants to introduce you to his mother. He just knows the two of you will get along. And she'd be over the moon once she learned about your skills in the kitchen.

Lilia:

-Hope you like having company in the kitchen, because Lilia refuses to let you bake alone. He's always sticking his fingers where they don't belong, stealing little tastes of what you're making, and trying to "improve" your recipes. And if you get mad at him, he'll just coo out apologies and kiss you until you forget why you were upset at him to begin with. Honestly though, keep an eye on him. Lilia can and will try to add something "nutritious" to your sweets. And nobody likes petit fours with pureed liver filling.

-Lilia does really enjoy watching you feed Silver, Sebek, and Malleus your treats. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, seeing you take care of his boys. It makes him think that you'd be a wonderful addition to his and Silver's lives. He'll teasingly call you Silver's other parent, and will sigh contentedly when the boy quietly compliments your skills. Please give Silver more of your baking. He needs it, and it just makes Lilia more affectionate with you.

Leona:

-He honestly doesn't care for sugary confections, but he'll take a bite of what you give him. It makes you happy to see him eat it, and he wants to keep you happy. Even if that means swallowing more sugar than he would normally consume. You do notice he prefers it when your baked goods are more savory, or if their sweetness comes from fruit instead of sugar. And it's a pleasant surprise for him when you take his tastes into account. He also doesn't mind if you share what you make with others. Just don't be too generous, yeah? Don't forget, lions can get territorial, especially yours.

-Seeing you feed Cheka makes him feel...odd. On the one hand, he can begrudgingly admit that it's sort of cute to watch you bond with his rambunctious nephew. On the other hand, it makes him think more about the future with you. You wouldn't be allowed to bake for yourself at the palace, but wouldn't his brother insist on you being a part of the royal family? He hates the idea of his family forcing you into a role you don't want. Honestly, thinking about it makes his head hurt. So for now, he'll drape his arms around you while you help Cheka frost a cookie.

#trey clover #trey x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #twisted wonderland #twst reader insert #twst x reader

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eli0004 · 1 year ago

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Any Levi headcanons you’d like to share with the audience 🥹

Whew😮‍💨 Anon, as a dedicated Levi stan of multiple years, you know i do!

Pairing: Levi x GN! Reader

Synopsis: Random relationship hcs!!! Woohoo!

Warnings: Levi struggling with emotions, gossiping, mentions of substance use, very slight nsfw implication

Levi isn’t really someone who cares too much about what music he listens to. He’ll listen to whatever you put on, even if it’s like…loud angry metal, he’ll sit there like 😬 Yes this is great i love it and i’m absolutely not horribly overstimulated right now. He just likes to see you happy.

This man is made of 100% husband material. He thrives living the quiet married life, and feeling appreciated and loved for doing the simplest, most menial household chores.

For the most part, if you were to ask him if he wants children i think he would say no, but then he watches you interact with children and it patches up this broken place inside of him, and suddenly he’s dreaming of little feet pattering around the house.

If he accidentally hurts your feelings with some dumb joke he made, he will feel intensely guilty. It will eat him alive, he can’t believe himself. But he also has no idea how to say that, so he’ll just make you tea and torture himself over it.

Even if you’re years into your relationship with him and living together, he still gets butterflies when he sees you again after a long day. You’re his solitude, his safe place, his home isn’t a home without you there in it.

He likes to listen to you gossip with your friends. Every once in a while he’ll pipe in and share his thoughts on something, and you’re like…? Since when did you start paying attention to this?

He has a high tolerance for alcohol, but half an edible has him absolutely faded. It’s actually ridiculous. And high Levi is so soft and sleepy, and he seems so genuinely relaxed, it’s a blessing to be able to witness him in that state.

Levi is hardly interested in status symbols, and values practicality over luxury. In a modern AU he probably drives a slightly beat up older classic car, but has no idea it’s a classic, so when car people compliment it he’s like ??? Tf

He’s a slightly picky eater, but if you make dinner one night and it doesn’t look appetizing to him, he’ll gather every ounce of courage in his body to take a bite and try it for you, since you went out of your way to make him something.

He has a keen sense of smell, and he loves fresh, fragrant aromas. He definitely stops in the candle aisle in the grocery store to smell all of them, and then gives himself a massive headache.

When you get out of the shower and smell all nice and clean, that shit gets him so bricked up.

I mentioned this before in another post, but if you ask him to pick something up from the store and it’s on a shelf he can’t reach, he will literally leave that store and go to a different one. He’s not going to ask the 16 year old cashier girl to help him reach it, and he’s definitely not climbing the shelves like a mad man. You’ll just have to wait a while longer.

Literally blushes from ear to ear when you call him pretty, or cute. If he gets compliments on his physical appearance, it’s usually said that he’s “sexy” or “handsome” which are still great things to hear, but it’s about the loving adoration in your eyes and the gentleness with which you touch his face. The genuine honesty behind your compliments, and the way it feels like you see something in him that nobody else does.

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returnofeternity · 26 days ago

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thinking about reader who starts to pay more attention to taissa after the second summer because holy SHIT. there was something in the air because they all looked so good.

the only problem is that she's with van and you have absolutely zero chance. your crush gets out of control and you find yourself blushing at merely looking at her. you try and talk to her more, figuring why not get to know her more at least. i mean, you survived a fucking plane crash, and you're still gonna sit back and be a nobody? absolutely not.

awkward encounters where you just randomly speak to her, complimenting her hair that day because she put a lil hair band or flower in it. waving to her across the camp and wanting to die when she raises her brow and looks behind her 😭

van notices it immediately. i don't think she'd be jealous tbh, i feel like she'd be proud in a way because of course her pretty girlfriend is turning your head. probably teases you for it.

"she's pretty, huh?" van's voice breaks you out of your thoughts, your very taissa-filled thoughts as you watch her walk into her shared hut with van.

you blush in embarrassment and splutter, hand coming up to scratch your neck as you pretend that you weren't just checking out her girlfriend. "y-yeah. i guess." you mutter, looking down in shame when you hear taissa's voice calling out for van.

you and van make eye contact as she gets up, and she winks at you before slapping her hand on your shoulder and walking to taissa.

oh my godd you'd definitely catch van and tai giggling and looking at you 😭 they think it's cute that you have a little summer crush. tai would feel slightly bad when you get up and walk away, probably coming to you later and asking if you're okay. she tells you that they weren't making fun of you, just teasing.

catching them fucking by that tree because you just had to go and talk a walk. being jealous and embarrassed, but mainly embarrassed.. van who doesn't stop what she's doing to tai and asks if you wanna join, tai smacking her side and trying to say "stop" but she cant get any words out. you run away, horrified and kinda turned on. maybe later that night, van and tai crash your little area that you sleep in, van telling you that she meant what she said, mumbling that she didn't know you were a pussy cause you ran away 😭

something something they talk about letting you join their relationship (kinda? Maybe?) and you get to kiss taissa that night, van watching very closely as tai kisses you until your brain turns to mush, which doesn't take very long.

#taissa turner thoughts 💭#taivan thoughts 💭

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partycatty · 1 year ago

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dark star!johnny cage > when i met you

johnny wants nothing more than to corrupt the pretty thing you are

warnings: we all know ds!jc is a piece of shit by now, have you read my other fics of him? LOL

notes: @iliketangerines ;)

MORE DS!JC > part 1* / part 2* / part 3* / part 4* / part 5* / part 6*

[ masterlist ]

• when johnny first laid his eyes on you, he was floored by just how... cute you were! there was a genuine attraction, he called it love at first sight, you called it "he asked me out 40 times until i said yes."

• in a literal sense, you were like a sweet little pet to him, something he wanted to leash and train to behave properly, to know how to be a star just like he was (though, you could never be at his level. he said so himself.)

• he would do absolutely anything for a single glance from you, from wearing his most expensive coat to spending an absolutely ridiculous amount of money at your workplace. with all these riches and no one to share with, he was ready to throw everything at you so you'd smile his way.

• johnny would sit in the corner of where you worked, covering his mouth with his palm and eyeing you down through his obnoxiously lavish sunglasses. you knew his gaze was on you, you always had, and it made you sweat bullets.

• lovebombing. he'd purr about what a good girl you are, how much he adores your every action, how he just wants to whisk you away and keep you for himself. johnny wanted you to fold quickly and easily; he was the cagester, nobody turns him down.

• he did actually love you in the beginning, as he would sit awake at night and fantasize about you sharing his giant bed with him. he wanted to toy with your hair, whisper sweet nothings, surprise you with gifts.

• you'd be the only think on his mind at the late hours in all senses. he wanted to fuck you stupid and then some, make you choke and slap you around until you served him like the toy you were.

• you were ensnared in his trap, the one he placed from the very beginning. you were charmed and it would lead to the worst mental downfall of your entire life.

• but, at the same time, he was so good to you. you lived the good life as tiring as it may be. johnny had no off switch, partying and blowing his money just to show you he could. you weren't going to find a better man than him, so you thought. not that he'd let you run off and choose another, anyway.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mk1 #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage smut #mortal kombat smut

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cr33pz-mck3nna · 5 months ago

Note

hey, it’s the same anon who requested the yandere carnival trio hcs, and i absolutely ADORED THEM!!! i was wondering if i could get the same thing but poly (with the reader), and it could be a oneshot or hcs!! up to you! :)

POLY YANDERE HEADCANONS WITH THE CARNIVAL TRIO

Warning: My versions of the carnival trio and mentions of yandere themes and death

Chaos level: 10/10

Yandere level: 10/10

• If you read the last headcanons you would know that none of these men like sharing

• When all three realized they all fell for you it was actually Candy who suggested that they share you, as for Jason and Jack..they were already preparing for war-

• Would absolutely immediately snatch you up just to ask you if you agree to them sharing you, very blunt about it(or in Jason and Jack's case..ask which one you like more-)

• Love bombing. Love bombing. LOVE BOMBING. They don't even mean to, they're just trying to one up each other until you're crying dying of cuteness under a pile of gifts and animals, both stuffed and real-

• Even as a poly couple Candy is still the most loving and understanding, he may not have the same human emotions and sanity as you but he tries to understand them and make sure you're happy with them at all times. Jack is just plain old insensitive due to his own lack of knowledge while Jason is flat out uncomfortable with human emotions, he doesn't understand them but unlike Jack and Candy he is the closest to a human and feels similar things to them.

• Trust me, no matter their stabilityJason or what they may say in the heat of the momentJack, they LOVE you, or as close as they can get to love.

• If you thought in the Yandere headcanons that their trust with you around the crps was bad...whooo boy- It's the fact that they are sharing you...and you let them? Yeah they're NEVER letting you around the crps.

• None of these bitches even remembered that birthdays existed until Jane or Hoodie gave them a present to give you and then it registered...that day is going down in history for the most hectic day next to the day Slender came back from vacation a day early.

• Not many things are different with it being a poly relationship, these bitches still think that living children is a good present, they still will (reluctantly) return them if you ask them to

• They fight.everyday.possibly even worse since y'all got together.

• You and Candy will refer to the four of you as partners, Jason and Jack are still in denial and just call it "A sharing transaction" like they don't have the worst sexual tension out of the four of y'all

• If you left..Candy would shut down completely, no more bubbly joy, only doing his job..Jason would snap, I don't think anyone would ever see him again..Jack, most surprising out of all of them, would cry, everyone knows that he collects bodies well his new collection? People who look like you.

• If you died...I don't think even Zalgo could stop these three from destroying the entire world for you. They would kill every living thing, and if humanity won and managed to kill them then nobody would find their bodies..because they would return to your grave(or your body if you haven't been buried yet) and die next to you.

OMG I WAS WAITING FOR THIS REQUEST!!! I'm SO happy you liked the other headcanons and my mind may not be fully awake yet but I TRIED MY BEST AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY THESE!! Little funfact: Three of my earliest ocs, a trio of guys, were heavily based off the carnival trio so my little shitheads helped me with writing this! As always, my requests are open just read some of my previous posts to get an idea of the kinda things I write and pls read the pinned post. Tata for now my lovely little gremlins! -Creepz

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selfcestmovies · 2 months ago

Text

Kate Bishop still had a lot to learn.

Heroing? She was making progress. Generally life skills? Those were on hold.

But dating? Sex? She wanted a crash course. Yelena had been giving her the runaround and Kate realized she needed to learn what she wanted quickly if she ever hoped to keep up with Yelena one-on-one.

Casual hookups had never been her speed – she got attached too quickly – and so she seemed stumped. Her pursuit of Yelena seemed perpetually on-hold.

And then the solution landed in her lap in the weirdest way possible. Adventuring as a hero in New York City often threw her unexpected perks – and this time, it was a run-in with a few sorcerers and their elicit magical artifacts. Caught in a stray wisp of a magical aura during her raid and... presto.

Two of her. Two Kates.

There wasn't much time to process the absolutely fucked-up magical mishap before the sorcerers had vanished and Kate was left in complete stereo – no seemingly clear difference between her and her double.

"Um—" "Right—"

There wasn't much to say. It was like talking to a reflection in the mirror.

But they managed to gather enough clarity of thought to escape the scene without causing much of a stir. And back home, in their small loft apartment... the gravity of the situation slowly sank in.

There wasn't anything Kate could do (both of her acknowledged) until the spell either wore off or Wong would return her calls. In the meantime, they were stuck together.

And that presented an interesting opportunity, didn't it?

It dawned on the Kates shortly after their long silent staring session that this "other Kate" shared everything with her – including the puzzlement about Yelena, and including the desire to "crash course" her way into being a confident romantic partner.

And she couldn't quite help but check herself out.

"Cute." "Same."

She looked like the type of person who would be good at sex. She was pretty, and had a great body – and these felt like unbiased observations now that she could see herself from a new perspective.

Her mind skipped over a few major assertions. It had already leapt ahead towards: "Nobody would need to know" and "I would sure learn an awfully lot about what I like in bed..."

The actual question – "Should I fuck myself" – seemed to have been answered already. The Kates made eye contact and gulped. Just because they had wordlessly agreed that it would happen... it didn't make the notion any less weird.

"We could start just by getting close," one said, feigning confidence.

"I was thinking the same thing," the other laughed.

It started with light, exploratory touches. Her neckline. Her chest. Her abs. This was already more contact with another woman than Kate had ever experienced – and it felt good. Oddly, it felt right. They talked more – casual flirtatious compliments that broke the ice, but they felt nice to hear. "We have great abs" and "I like our skin" that made what they were doing feel simultaneously more and less fucked up.

"We can never tell Yelena," they agreed. This would never leave their apartment.

Neither Kate knew whether they preferred to be a top or a bottom, so they agreed to switch. Obviously.

"Like this?" She'd ask.

"Works wonders for me," the other said, her breaths becoming labored.

They agreed that kissing was off limits, at least for now – too weird even for them, although they acknowledged that rule might get bent as they night went on. For now, though, there was plenty to experiment with already. Timing, pressure points, ways to ask what she wanted... it was all on the table, and it was all perfect.

Kate was finally able to learn what she liked, from the best partner imaginable.

#selfcest #kate bishop #kate bishop smut #ai artwork #ai fanart #hawkeye #wlw #lesbian #sapphic #clones #ai art #mcu #kate bishop headcanon #kate bishop fanfic #bishova #kate x yelena #mcu headcanons

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eldaryan · 1 year ago

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AHHH OMG THAT STORY FOR “His little kitten” I LOVED IT, I MEAN YOUR SO ABSOLUTELY AMAZING AT WRITING!

PLEASE, PLEASE, CONTINUE IT, IM LITERALLY BEGGING!! 🧎‍♀️😭

Maybe something along the lines of we come home after a stressful day at work and decide to go full on dress up as a cat for RZ Michael. Omg it’d be so cute and if you don’t mind NSFW.

Thxsm!! 😭❤️

}Hi! Yeah, sorry for taking so, SO long with it, but my life got pretty messed up but… I never forgot about it and the other asks. Please, I hope you enjoy it!🌹

•Warning: Smut, agnst, mentions of killing (lightly), +18 (minors dni), finger teasing, a bit of fluff (a bit), female reader, unprotected sex, bread kink.

🤓Under revision📃

His Need

Part 1 • Part 2 (His Possession)

What a day. You loved your job, but some days, it was just so exhaustive. Indecisive people or people who end up not buying anything, others ignorant and difficult to deal with, others who treated you as if you were nobody and didn't understand anything about the business… But at least you were finally home. You could take a long bath in your tub, wear your most comfy pajamas and cuddle with Michael. Oh, Michael. You almost forgot.

— Michael? I’m home!

You yell from the entrance, letting him know of your presence. Normally just opening the door he knew you arrived home, greeting you and standing on the stairs.

— Weird. He’s not here.

You take off your shoes, keeping only your socks on and you start walking around the house looking for Michael, not finding him in the living room or the kitchen. Maybe He is upstairs? With that thought, you made your way to your bedroom, not finding him there either.

— He still out hunting?

A shiver runs down his spine, imagining him killing someone. You had already talked with Michael about his “hobby”, trying to convince him to kill only the people who deserved it, after all, as you saw Chucky say in a movie: there are people who really deserve to die.

After much persuasion, and favors, Michael agreed to your request, just looking for victims who truly deserved the fate of the boogeyman's blade. You shrug your shoulders, forgetting about it now and taking off your clothes, just wanting your bath and relax from this day. Walking towards your bathroom, you turn the faucet, letting the water fall into the tub. With your hand you feel the hot water. Just how you like it.

You enter the tub, letting your body rest and a sigh escape from your lips, feeling the warm water embracing you. Washing your body, you just can think about the last time Michael did share a bath here, when you could convince him to. How his massive body did embrace yours, almost not fitting in the tub. The water escaping with every trust of his hips… He was a possessive man, kinda aggressive, but that’s how he is. Wasn’t his fault. With some research, you’ve found everything about his childhood, his forced treatment… ”Poor child” you thought. And living with him, day by day, you met the man with a boy in his cold heart, that melted little by little with your smile and warmth.

Lost in thoughts, you did remind of that day you arrived home with cat ears. Something different, but wasn’t your intention, you didn’t even knew that Michael would be so obsessed with that. The way he stared at you, marked your skin that night… You could feel goosebumps run through your skin just with the memories, biting your lip when an idea pops into your mind.

You wanted to feel the man that way again, so animalistic. And that’s why you bought something special last week when Michael was out hunting again. After finishing cleaning your skin, you get up, letting the water run, drying the tub while you grab a towel to dry your body and hair. You walk towards your room again and to your wardrobe, opening it and searching deeply on it for something specific, finding the black medium box. Carrying it, you put the box on your bed, opening and revealing the full cat costume you did buy and hide from your partner.

— Ah, yes. Let’s see what Michael thinks about it…

The towel fell on the floor from your body with you starting to wear the costume piece by piece and going to take a look at yourself in front of the mirror beside your bed. It did fit perfectly in your curves and a smile grows in your lips when you realize it. Wasn't everytime you had the courage to wear something like that, but Michael, with the passion he seemed to show you, the want to try and tease for him just growth.

— Now all I have to do is comb my hair and I'll be ready.

•••

The large and tall figure finds it's way to the house, entering and finding the same perfect silence of when he left. But something different did caught his eye. Her shoes and coat were in the entrance, finding out that his partner was finally home. He could feel his cold blood slowly heat at the discovery, lightly tightening his grip on the hilt of his bloody knife, starting to walk again, looking around for you.

No signal of you downstairs so you probably were in your bedroom, reading a book as usual or just taking a nap from your day at work.

He couldn't wait to see her. His obsession. So he immediately makes his way towards the stairs, climbing calmly and silently, even though he's anxious inside. Michael was a patient man, he knew exactly the perfect time to strike even after long days of stalking his potential victim. With his silent footsteps, and long breaths, he finally finds the door to the main bedroom of the house, opening it slowly and running his gaze around the room. The clothes strewn across the floor catch his eye before she finally lifts her masked face to the bed, finally finding you there, lying invitingly and dressed in those clothes. She did it again.

— Oh, Michael! Welcome home.

You say with a smile on your face, crawling across the mattress only to sit on the edge and cross your legs.

— I missed you. Come here!

With your arms outstretched you call out to him, seeing his tall figure somewhat tense and his strong grip on the knife, as if he were holding back while he watched your body in those small pieces of clothing through the dark holes in the mask. Your skin burned from just that. They were so small that almost couldn’t cover that precious parts of you that should be covered, and for him only to see. And here were you two.

— Michael? What’s wrong?

You asked when he just stood there, watching and holding the bloody knife. He seemed to be thinking about something. To do something or just about how to start something. Usually, the heat of the hunt always guides him to grab your body wherever you were and claim you, just to dissipate all those feelings. That heat of being the predator, and you were just another prey. The most valuable prey, his reward.

And then, the figure finally moved, walking to you slowly and without any sign of rush, just analysing your tiny little body, in comparison to his, almost fully undressed for him. There. On that bed.

He finally reached you, starting your heavy breathing escaping from your lips and your breasts going up and down from that angle, analysing the beautiful and submissive look on your face. All his.

His left hand found it's way to your face, slowly caressing his big calloused fingers to your cheek as he continues to go down to your neck. You were so hypnotized by his presence and the figure of his mask that you didn't notice the strong grip on the back of your neck, making you gasp as he pulled your hair.

— M-Michael..? What? Y-You didn't like the costume?

You asked finally, wanted to know his mysterious thoughts for the first time, feeling your cheeks burn as he watched you before finally approaching his face from your, and slowly to your neck. You could listen to his loud heavy breath perfectly by the close distance now, and how he smelled your skin, making you shiver in pleasure.

He was analyzing you. He was curious about the motive you were dressed like that again. Michael couldn't understand what you wanted, but he hadn't disliked what you did bring to him. Quite the opposite. You were different from everything he has seen in his life. Anything you did amazed him in ways himself did not understand. But Michael knew one thing.

You were his.

You felt your body slammed against the mattress just by his strong grip as the man placed his knife on the edge, letting you there. With his calm movements he approached you again, covering your body with his now and grabbing both your wrists, squeezing them on either side of your body and pinning them there before pressing you down with his weight. Michael went back to burying his face in your neck, smelling the scent of your skin that only made him grunt behind the mask and press it lips there, as if kissing you.

— Oh, I see… You like it.

Michael backed away and tilted his head to the side, making your body pulse as you felt the volume on his pants against you meanwhile you tried to keep the eye contact. You whimpered as he hold both your hands together with his left one, over your head, as the right started to touch your skin.

He slowly slides his fingers between your breasts and around now, teasing you before using them to press your nipple marked on the costume, pulsing when you moaned his name. He knew your body like his own hand, just by watching your reactions all this time.

That's why he just kept going, feeling the curve of your waist and tightening his touch, grabbing your leg to open you more for himself. And the smell, ah, that sweet smell with the vision of your panties wet, showing how much you desired this without the need to say something.

— Y-Yes, I was waiting you…

You said, making him look at you again as you opened more your legs for him to watch you more and better. You loved this side of him. You knew it's was his aspect, how he used to act and know things about you that even you did not know, that always surprised you.

— Your girl needs you.

He has looked at your body one last time before squeezing your waist and slide his fingers to your panties, feeling the sensation of the fabric and the details there against his hand before pulling it. Surprised, you moan with the sensation of the fabric being torn against your sensitive skin, another consequence of the ecstasy.

Michael had that singular power against you. Always making your heart beat faster, curious of what he could do next or just the way he showed his sweet side (with the mysterious gifts he did bring to you), or what he was thinking meanwhile watching you or how your skin seemed to burn with his touches. His heavy breath and muscular body, his strong grip that could break you easily, but just used to keep you there, for him.

His fingers found your pulsing core, touching your sensitive and aroused point that always called his attention, grunting behind the mask as he could listen your sweet moans again, encouraging him to continue exploring your pussy with his big calloused fingers.

— Y-You… You, Michael. Your kitten wants you…

You begged with your panting voice, knowing that he liked when you did beg. And wasting no time, he used both hand to take your panties, seem you relax before grabbing your wrists and tying them together over your head with the fabric, keeping you pinned so he could unzip the jumpsuit. Exposing his muscular, scarred body to you, making you shiver at the very sight. You never got tired of seeing him reveal himself like that.

With his left hand at your waist, he finally took his massive cock in his right hand, showing you how he was for just smelling your perfume and seeing you dressed like that. A pure vision of redemption for him while he could barely contain himself from corrupting you.

His tip teased you as he approached your bodies again, wanting to listen and see your face closer as he slided his member to your wet entrance. And with a single trust, he invaded your warm and wet embrace, grunting as you moaned satisfied. Feeling every inch of him inside of you, filling you, and his pulsating veins.

You had no time to adjust to his size as he grabbed your leg and started moving his hips against you, slowly. You noticed when he closed his eyes by the light of the room, enjoying the sensations of being inside of you, making you tremble in pleasure and scream of surprise. He felt it, looking back at you instantaneously with the feeling, knowing you too damn well.

Michael seemed curious tonight, as the first time you wore something like that. His eyes couldn’t stop to explore your figure with that costume. The fluffy ears, your hair and the costume bra hugging your skin tightly, letting your breasts to jump a little with every single move of his. You looked stunning for him. Delicious. Sweet as you’ve always been.

And he just wanted more and more to consume you entirely.

He focused his slow, but intense, trusts to just feel you clenching around him as your cunt fought to adjust and embrace him as best as your body could so abruptly, feeling his massive member twitching inside of you. As you could hear a hum from him… as he did enjoy to see you like that. Fighting the feelings inside of you that felt so overwhelming with each trust.

His hips snapped against yours with his single force, causing those sweet and surprised moan that slipped so well from your lips. The force of his movements, his cock hitting your walls and giving delicious chills trough your skin. The sound of his hums and low groans behind the mask. Everything that he only gave to you. Things that no one ever heard or felt.

You were his obsession. The only thing that made his feral desires mix on his mind. The need. The hunger. To feel your skin again as his calloused hands tightened while holding you. The smell that only you had. A parfum that embraced his thoughts. His nerves. Your face, and how it seemed to change whenever he was around. Of course he knew. By stalking your house whenever he felt bored by not finding the right prey on his hunts.

You made it all. Alone.

Michael starting to feel more and more conscious about you. The much the touched and felt you, the more the voice inside of him felt louder and louder.

Mine. Consume. Take. More.

His member pulses against your tight and wet walls that felt more slick as his body was against yours. The warmth you felt embracing your body as his arms and hands got lost in your curves, exploring as he used to like to do whenever you were together like this. His left fingers slowly going up to feel the costume’s bra, pushing it more against your skin and sensitive nipple, playing with the sensation of the fabric and your body. Causing you to close your legs around him and vibrate, moaning his name softly. In need.

— Feels… Feels good…

You only wanted to tease the man. See what more reactions you could get from the mysterious and famous killer. And yet, here you was. Again. Submissive to him. In his hands.

The more reactions you gave to him, more his entire body pulses. And more he feels the need to push himself against your little cunt, picking up the speed and force he claimed you. Fucking you as much as his body needed.

His grip tightened against your breast, making you feel the light pleasurable pain in your skin. And inside of you, as well. His massive form that never felt tired, retreating only to quickly force his way back to you, causing more of the wet songs as waves of pleasure run trough you like a river. Your arms shivering.

There. When your legs freely hugs his waist and he starts to slam his force against the right spots and you tight even more around his massive cock. When you feel your brain melting and your moans get louder, you can listen how vocal Michael can get.

Grunts and rough moans escaping from the man above you. When his eyes drift along your body, entirely, with your warmth involving him. When you makes him feel sensitive. And makes him almost furious due it.

It’s when his left hand found your neck with anger, his harsh gaze meeting your lost eyes. Your lips parted with the heavy breathing and mixed with your moans and cries from the violent pleasure of him fucking you. With his animalistic side that always drives him. He needed more. He wanted more.

— M… Michael…

He grunts, huffing behind the latex mask as his body hovered your frame, getting his face close to yours only to listen. To absorve more of you, if that was possible. The warmth of your breasts against his chest, your body moving due his movements, almost making you jump on the mattress.

Your legs felt like jelly as tension and pleasure were mixed, the knot in your belly growing more and more. The feelings overwhelming you and making you loose yourself as tears escaped the corner of your eyes, influencing Michael to only tighten his grip around your neck even more.

You were so close. You felt so close to your high as much as he pushed and forced your tight walls open, as he hates you. And he knew it by how your body did tremble below his, with his mouth watering as a carnivore. In delight to make you feel so lost like this. By using you.

— P-Please… I’m… ‘M so close… I… can’t.

Your voice was a mess as yourself, rocking your hips against his body in a plead. Your breath harder and quick with Michael’s hand not letting go of you, feeling your heartbeats echoing in your ears with force. As you felt hotter. Michael only stared at you, letting go of your hand to slap your hip before holding it in a bruising way, to make you still for him to continue moving the way he wanted.

Quickly he pulled more of your body against his, your hips lifting a bit in the air only to encounter his harsh deep trusts every time he pushed himself. Again. And again. Reaching even deeper inside of you, making your walls clench against his massive rough cock, and vibrate almost desperately. Wanting to milk him.

You felt too weak against this man. You were nothing compared to his strength and stamina. You weren’t even able to think anymore, only surrendered by how well he could handle you. How well he could make you be a mess and loose yourself. Be weak. And that’s how your high exploded, the knot in your belly reaching its limit as a long moan escaped from your throat.

Michael let himself stop moving for those seconds only to feel you melting around him, his gaze locked in your face as it changed so much in pleasure. Your lips forming a “O”, your eyes squeezed shut as your back arched and your body shake. Almost not noticing how he was holding his own breath. You were like an magnet. In so many ways.

Before your body started to relax, Michael started to move again, easing his grip in your neck only to slowly reach your hair, pulling it against his massive hand. His hips moved by its own, guided by his feral need to have his release after so much of feeling you.

You moaned tired and surprised by how light you felt and how rough he still could use you, slowly moving your hands to his arms and feeling his muscles flexing. A loud huff of approval coming from him as you could see Michael closing his eyes. He seemed to be in a internal fight, lost in it and the madness pleasure and hunger he felt with you.

It was when he breath paused and a loud groan echoed from his throat, long enough to make you have goosebumps, biting your lower lip with the feeling as he trusted his hips against you one last time, with a bruising force that made you moan in surprise. Using your nails against his arms.

You felt his hot release almost exploding deep in your cunt, making your legs tremble in pleasure as you almost could feel yourself cumming again with the sensation. Being filled by Michael’s cum more and more, claimed by the infamous killer again.

His body relaxed and pressed against yours, almost laying against you as both catches the breath. Not long passes as Michael’s gets up to stare ate you, still breathless. He stared at you silently before looking up to your messy hair and the cat ears accessory in it. Slowly reaching it with his right hand, feeling the fabric and your hair together.

— So… You… liked it, mm?

A smile grow in your lips, letting your hands caress his arms lightly. You knew Michael almost never did you touch him, but you could abuse in those moments. Even now that he seemed to be analyzing you. Probably still in his high.

Nothing seemed to change the fact that only you affected him the way you did. Don’t mattered how many people he killed or how long he tried to stay away from you, forced by his own desires to stalk you trough your windows and finally enter your house. To meet you. Always with a bigger hunger than before. Because you were his. His need.

Hi! I want to apologize to everyone who did wait for it so long! Thank you for reading and enjoying the other ones I did write, as well! Please, feel free to contact me and I hope to write more in the future! Xoxo!🌹

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