#also i know the books go on and on about his beauty
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Chapter 27 - Just a Shot Away
Series Masterlist
Author's Note: Being pointlessly confident and saying that we're going to finish with 31 chapters. See you on the other side of this one! <3
Chapter Title from Gimme Shelter by The Rolling Stones.
Word Count: 27.4k
Chapter Summary/Warnings: The team drives to DC for a meeting with Singer. Usual warnings, with a little extra violence and gore.
Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, very big fluff, very big angst, established relationship
Read on A03!
Chapter 26 - Chapter 28
âCan I drive?â
âThere is not a fucking chance in Christâs blue balls Iâm letting you drive, Sunshine.â
She pouted at Ben, propping her chin on his shoulder and being a fucking hazard to Benâs very good, very safe driving. âPlease?â
âNo.â
âBut-â
âIâm really fucking like my life.â He gave her a side-eyed, flat look as he said Her name. âSo no.â
She stuck Her tongue out at him, crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat as she muttered under her breath. âYou canât even die, you cockfuck asshole.â
Ben snorted. âYou know I can fucking hear you, brat. And youâd figure out a way to kill me, youâre real damn smart like that.âÂ
âKiss ass.â
âOnly for you, darling.â
She flushed at his wink, thighs pressing together with a small squirmâlike She was trying to move Benâs hand up from where it had found an easy home near her kneeâand heâd fucking won. Ben didnât even try to stop the triumphant grin from crossing his face, because he never fucking won these arguments. They usually ended with Her moaning as Ben fucked her in an attempt to regain some control and dignity after sheâd convinced him eat lunch with Her, Hughie, and Annie, or do the laundry, or thank Kimiko for brownies, or read a fucking book. But she wasnât pushing further, cutting right to watching Ben with lust-blown eyes and a pretty, gaping and slack expression, so heâd fucking won.
âNeed me to pull over?â He dragged his hand up Her leg, smirking at her small gasp. âTake care of you on the side of the fucking highway?â
âFuck you,â She mumbled, grabbing Benâs hands and turning it over between hers in a way that was somehow lot more fucking distracting than her pout. âHorny old cunt-â
âI can hear your heart,â Ben drawled Her name, twining his fingers into hers. âYou want me to fuck you, and I havenât even done anything-â
âItâs the driving.â She shrugged, but Ben didnât miss how Her hand tightened in his. âYou look hot when you drive.â
He chuckled, glancing over at Her beautiful, fake sulking face. âDriving fucking does it for you? Should I get a car, just to turn you on-â
âShut up, Benjamin.â She wrinkled Her nose at him. âYou get turned on when Iâm good with Ryan, Mr. Breeding Kink. Iâm allowed to think youâre sexy when youâre driving a car.â
Ben rolled his eyes. âI am not going fucking apologize for loving you and wanting fuck you until your full of me-â
âWell then I donât have to apologize for looking at your hands and muscles when you drive!â
âYou have a damn obsession with my hands, Sunshine.â He grinned at Her, lifting her hand up in his to kiss Her knuckles. âIâm starting to think you like them more than my cock.â
âIâm allowed to like multiple things, Pretty Boy. I donât know if old age is getting to you, but I also said muscles-â
âHow about this.â Ben held their hands in Her lap, looking between her pretty, dramatic, perfect fucking fake-scowl and the road he had to not crash on. âAfter Edgar, Iâll let me give you a blowjob right fucking here, in the car.â
âOh, youâll let me give you a blowjob-â
âI wasnât fucking done, brat.â Ben guided their hands between Her legs, cock twitching in his pants as her thighs squeezed around them. âThen, Iâll finger you all you goddamn want. Use my hands how you like them, make you cum on my fingers. Deal?â
She swallowed. âDeal.â
âGood girl.â
Ben laughed as She hit his arm, half grinding onto him at the same time. âShut the fuck up-â
âYou love it.â Ben felt that strange, radiant thing burst alight in his body. âYou love me.â
âAgainst all my better judgment,â She sighed. âI really do. Can we go over the plan again?â
He nodded, but there wasnât really that fucking much to go over. Theyâd made practically negative progress on what the keys could be forâFrenchie had tried to duplicate them, only to discover it was a magnetic skeleton key, and whatever the fuck that meant had caused Her to let out a long, exhausted sighâand everyoneâs bets on the answer seemed to live in the realm of just fucking praying that it wasnât another problem for them to deal with. Or, if they were all being real damn honest, for Her to deal with.
âItâs probably not something perishable,â Sheâd said, everyone gathered in the dining hall and glaring at the keys on the center of the table. âGiven how long it sounded like the keys were at Red River.â
âThat is why my bet is on a weapon,â Frenchie had nodded along to Her words, looking to Kimiko for agreement. âRight, Mon Coeur? Guns and bomb are not items that perish-â
Kimiko had signed something, and both Her and Frenchieâs faces had fallen.
âIt could be that.â Sheâd muttered, voice raising as She translated for the rest of the team. âSomething that is perishable, but Edgar doesnât care if it perished.âÂ
âWell, whyâd he want you and Soldier Boy to get it now-âÂ
Sheâd shrugged, cutting MM off with a tired, almost bitter look at the keys. âMaybe itâs value isnât dependent on it being, um-â
âAlive.â Ben had grunted, and Sheâd swallowed.Â
âYeah. Alive.â
âOr just ripe?â Hughie had offered, voice practically fucking desperate. âIt doesnât have to be living, they could be hiding something from the government like they did V, like food or-âÂ
âI ainât puttin money on Edgar stashin pears,Hughie-âÂ
Sheâd shaken her head. âNo, Butcher, Hughieâs actually got a point.â
âI do?â
âNo he donât-â
Sheâd turned Her eyes up to Butcher and Hughie, tone bored and amused. âYeah, he does. The keys are to the Cornucopia. In Greco-Roman cultic practices, cornucopias were often depicted with agricultural gods, and copia literally means abundance in Latin-â
Butcher has snapped Her name. âTell us like weâre fuckin idiots, Love-âÂ
Ben had frowned, because heâd been following along just fine. But She was also literally alive inside of him, so heâd either adapted to Her smart talk so well he didnât get phased by it anymore, or She was physically making Ben more intelligent. He hoped it was the former, because then it could be another testament of his love for Her. How he really fucking listened when She spoke, even if his primary motivation was how fucking hot she could be when she was talking about things she was passionate about. And given that She was somehow passionate about every single fucking thing in the universe, Ben would never make her stop talking or dumb it down for his sake. He got to learn shit, and have a boner that She usually ended up fixing. Everyone fucking won.
Heâd almost told Butcher to fucking shove it and let Her speak, but Sheâd been faster, frowning at Butcher as sheâd continued.
âCornucopias are symbols of Greek and Roman food gods. The word means Horn of Plenty in Latin.â Sheâd looked back to Hughie with a small smile. âSo food isnât that insane of a guess.â
Despite Her reassurance, nobody had ended up putting money on food. The keys were now a slight weight in the pocket of Her jacket, and theyâd agreed upon keeping the V from Edgar. If he asked about it, theyâd either playing real fucking stupid and telling him theyâd only received the keys, giving him a vial of water Sheâd put green food dye in, or saying theyâd broken them. Ben was pretty damn sure Edgar would buy that last one, because the man seemed convinced their team was made up of complete fucking idiots.
It might be. In the past two days they certainly hadnât been a bunch of fucking geniuses. Mallory had attempted to brief with them about Singer and potential new avenues for V, and Ben had witnessed some of the worst fucking acting performances of in history. For a group of people whose whole fucking job was murder and espionage, they hadnât managed to be fully capable of looking Mallory in Her hypothetically compromised face and just goddamn lie. Hughie had been all goddamn sweaty, MM and Butcher just kept grunting and glaring, Annie wouldnât stop staring, and Frenchie had been talking at a damn near inhuman pace. If it wasnât for Her and Ben, Mallory wouldâve clued in on how theyâd all finally fucking realized that She was a bitch and couldnât be trusted.
âMaybe,â MM had muttered as theyâd returned to Jersey, the air in the limo tense and wired. âWe could tell, Grace, and sheâd side with us. She didnât seem to be Mullerâs biggest fan-â
âNo.â Sheâd shuffled further into Benâs side, leaning into him with a sigh. âMalloryâs primary allegiance is to democracy. If thereâs even a chance Singer might think that sheâs just trying to sabotage Mullerâs as a VP candidate, she wonât actually help us. And sheâs not stupid. She might put together that weâre going after federal V, notice the documents are missing or something, and try to stop us. We canât risk it.âÂ
Ben had expected more pushback, but Butcher, of all goddamn people, had taken her side.
âSheâs right, Mate.â Heâd looked at them through the rear-view mirror, a sour and tight-lipped expression on his face. âWe ainât able to take big gambles on anything right now. What Grace donât know ainât gonna hurt her, so sheâll be stayin in the dark on this one.â
And that was the fucking plan. Keep Mallory in the dark about the leak, let Her and Ben get the keys to Edgar, and meet the team in Boston for the V. Then theyâd fucking kill Homelanderâno loose ends for him to know itâs coming, Annie had even bought Her a private, non-CIA funded phonesâand deal with the mess it left when the pussy was a million goddamn feet under.Â
The mess that included those two original formula Vâs, one being kept wherever the fuck Butcher kept things, and one in Benâs jacket.
Theyâd agreed not to give it Edgar. There wasnât a fucking chance in hell they were giving that V to Edgar. When this was over, theyâd likely just fucking flush it down the toilet.
But they hadnât. And Ben had looked at it in Her underwear drawer before they left, and decided that there was no goddamn way he was just leaving it here. In the FBSA Headquarters, where Mallory could just walk into their apartment with her seemingly unlimited jurisdiction and find it.
And heâd forgotten to tell Her. It was really just fucking occurring to him now, as She outlined what to do if Edgar asked them for the V, that it was something Sheâd probably want to know about. This seemed like the type of shit heâd get yelled at for keeping from Her, even if it wasnât at all on purpose.
He grunted Her name before he could forget again, and She cut off her own lecture, frowning at him.
âYeah?â
âI need to tell you something, and youâre not allowed to lose your damn mind about it.â
Her tone raised into a slight warning. âBen-â
âItâs not fucking bad,â he muttered, risking a look at Her expression. She mostly just looked concerned, and it was a lot fucking worse, so Ben had to just say it. Lock his eyes back on the road and just goddamn tell Her. âI brought the V.â
There was silence for a second, and when Ben looked back, She was only blinking. Her head had tilted slightly, and her fingers were trying to tap in Benâs hold, but her heart was natural and even, so she wasnât mad.
âOkay.â She sighed, leaning Her head back in her seat and squeezing Benâs hand. âI mean, itâs not ideal, but Iâd rather have it with you than leave it at the compound. Next time tell me before we leave,â She whacked his arm lightly. âBut I can work with it.â
Ben nodded slowly, and muttered, âyouâd rather have it-â
âWith you.â She repeated herself, and Ben could hear the smile in Her voice. âI trust you, Pretty Boy. And youâre even safer than an underwear drawer. You can yell at people, and hit them into a wall if they try to take things from you. Youâre very dramatic, Benjamin. Itâs one of your best qualities.â
He snorted, running his thumb over the skin of Her hand. âBrat.â
âCunt. I need to pee.â
âWhy the fuck are you telling me that-âÂ
âBecause you,â She nudged his shoulder, and Ben turned to see that pretty pout on her lips. âWonât let me fucking drive, and I am not peeing in the woods, so you need to get me to a gas station.â
He rolled his eyes, but grunted for Her to find one on the map and listened to her directions, parking and turning to watch Her move at his side.Â
âIâll be back,â She smiled at him, fumbling with her seat belt. âPut some gas in the car while Iâm gone, weâre low.â
Ben scowled. âNo, weâre not-â
âYes,â She leaned over him, pointing to a small, flashing light on the dashboard. âWe are.âÂ
âThat means Butcherâs low on washer fluid-âÂ
âNope. Gas.â She turned to grin at him, their faces barely a fucking inch apart. âOld man-â
Ben tangled his hand in Her hair, pulling her into a long, soft kiss. Shut the fuck up, Sunshine, I am not goddamn old-Â
Youâre so old. She let out a happy sigh into his mouth, pulling back to meet his gaze. âI love you.â
âI love you too, Sunshine.â He kissed Her cheek, and her eyes on his were so fucking full of adoration and want it might kill him. âGo piss. Be fast.â
âI always am. Fill up the gas, please.âÂ
âWith what damn money-â
âButcher gave me a hundred to use on gas and whatever fuckin lube you and the old cunt need, as a gift.âÂ
âJokes on that pussy, we donât need lube.â Ben winked at Her. âYou get plenty fucking wet for me, all by your damn self.âÂ
âFuck you-âÂ
âIf you insist-âÂ
She bumped his nose with Hers, brushing hair out of his eyes. âAfter I pee, Benjamin, my love, you can fuck me all you want. But only after you let go of me, so I can pee.âÂ
Ben grunted, releasing where heâd subconsciously grabbed Her waist, but holding onto the sound of Her heartbeat as she climbed out of the car. Sheâd passed him the money from Her jacket, and now Ben had to fill up the gas tank, because Her saying Benjamin, my love, was some sort of goddamn override to his brain that made body move to Her will more than his. It wasnât like he wouldnât have gotten Her gasâSheâd asked him for something, and Ben would be damned if she didnât fucking get itâbut he might have pushed for them to go somewhere else if she hadnât added that one fucking phrase.
But now he had to get gas here. At this backwater fucking washed up parking lot, with a pump that might have been installed before Ben was even taken to Russia. This whole fucking place was disgusting, even by the real damn low standards of gas stations in upstate New York. Ben wasnât even sure it was genuine establishment and not an abandoned building that some hicks has started selling dogshit coffee and stale candy bars at. If this was Benâs car, which it fortunately wasnât, heâd probably have flat out fucking refused to put their alleged âgasâ in the engine. They were selling it for a million damn dollarsâSheâd explained the rapid increase of cost of living and inflation to him several times, but $4.50 for gas had to be a crimeâand if he wasnât able to lean against Butcherâs car and keep a very careful eye on every single pussy moving around the lot while she took a piss, he wouldâve damned it and gone into the bathroom with Her, just to make sure she was safe.
But She probably wouldâve killed him for hovering, and it wasnât like Ben couldnât feel Herâeasy and content and humming a soft, natural songâeverywhere his head, or hear her heartbeat slightly muffled, but steady, across the parking lot. And it was just them, three truckers, the store workers, and a family on some sort of weird fucking road trip at the station overall, so things would be fine. And if they werenât, Ben had a fucking gun. They were going right to Boston after this shit, so even though he wasnât allowed to bring his suit, Ben had dropped his shield in the trunk of Butcherâs car and packed one of the gun ranges better pistols in his pants, along with the one Butcher had given him when Sheâd return in his pants. So if that bouncy fucking five-year-old tried anything, Ben would be ready.
The five-year-old wouldnât try anything. It was a little girl, rolling in the grass like a damn dog, giggling to herself as her mother watched her with a tired, joyful smile, and neither of them seemed to be plotting anything. A man joined them with a slightly smaller boy, passing the woman a coffee with a kiss as the boy half-tackled the girl, and something Ben fucking became radiant and soft and aching and hungry in his chest and head and gut.
Heâd never fucking gotten that. Ben couldnât ever remember being that carefree as a kid, and heâd certainly never fucking played in the grass, looked up at his father, and gotten a thumbs up and smile of approval. Sheâd never had it either. Ben would place real good money that Her parents had never watched her with content, easy expressions, and then shared low laughs with each other about a joke Ben could fucking hear, and wasnât that damn funny. Those assholes across the parking lot seemed to think it was fucking hilarious, leaning on each other and watching each other with expressions that wouldâve made Ben scoff and make a face of like heâd smelled something foul forty years ago.
He wouldnât now. He hadnât gotten that before eitherâreal, raw, powerful fucking loveâbut Ben fucking got it now. That together didnât just mean at someoneâs side most days, and in name, with acknowledgments through teeth. Ben had thought the most together had to offer was a show. Someone he didnât like that much, but could half-tolerate for a few hours, to flash and shine with him so everyone went fuck, they look good. Theyâre smiling for us, so thatâs love.
Ben had been a fucking idiot. Together meant together. It meant at Her side, always matching Her step for step, but a fuck ton more than just a name. Together meant just them, no need to stray and no way out, because Ben didnât want a way out. He loved Herâhe couldnât stop telling Her, and it almost fell out of Ben like when he exhaled it would always come out as the words, I love you, Sunshineâand together meant Her and Ben, burning at each otherâs sides, no matter what every other pussy fucker wanted. And all the best parts of this werenât for any single camera or crowd, they were for Ben. They were how She looked wearing his shirts and sprawled over his body, a weight he could easily throw off but never wanted to. They were watching TV shows and Movies with Her, and watching her smile in the glow of the screen. They were trading smirks and winks and jokes, and bumping shoulders or walking with Ben half holding Her up as he made dirty promises heâd always keep. They were dancing with Her in the haze of colorful light provided by her beautiful, fucking enchantingvoice, and saying shit like enchanting because that seemed like a word Sheâd use.
He really fucking got that together wasnât a performance. Ben liked HerâShe was fucking hilarious and mean and smart and perfectâand when he smiled it was for Her. Not a single other pussy fucker mattered when Ben smiled at Her, because it was something that he couldnât help, and acted as another piece of evidence that Ben loved Her. Further proof that sheâd never have to be afraid of anything again, because Ben would keep her safe, and sheâd never have to want for anything because Ben would find whatever she asked for.
So Ben couldnât scowl at the man across the lot, half-hanging over his wife, because Ben knew that he probably looked that fucking stupid when he looked at Her. But anyone would look that stupid if they got to love Her. If Sheâd turned them into a fucking pussy who thought about things like would they take stupid road trips? They could. After this was over, She and Ben could do whatever the fuck they wanted. Benâs whole goddamn brain had been turned into a place to figure out what else would She want. A road trip probably wasnât the best idea, if Ben wanted to keep his sanity. Given how frequent and intense their sex was, theyâd have to pull over two or three times a day and Ben was never going to fuck his wife in a flea-ridden, stiff mattressed, peeling-paint motel room. He couldâBen could fuck Her anywhereâbut She deserved all the comfort the world had to offer.
Sheâd want to see beautiful things. Not have them, but see them. Ben would need to take Her to places that held half the beauty she had in Her own body and heart and head, just so She could see what he got to look at every goddamn day. Ben needed to show Her things like waterfalls and mountains and oceans, find Her a place where the sun was almost as bright as She was, and he could hold Her just to hold her. A place where there were soft breezes and music and good food and flowers.
There were flowers here. As gross as this place was, there were still flowers. Off the side of the lot, past where the family had been standing and where everything turned overgrown and green, there were light pink flowers.
She was still in the bathroom, and the tank was full, and Ben couldnât stop staring at the flowers. It was just him and two truckers nowâshorter men with baseball caps and slightly tattered clothingâand they were looking over at Ben with weary frowns.
But Ben still just fucking stared at the flowers.
And that was the type of fucking love-sick idiot pussy Sheâd turned him into. The type that stomped across the parking lot, glaring daggers at the other men in a silent dare to say somethingâbecause Ben would throw them right through their stupid trucks and not break a sweatâand grabbed some flowers out of the ground for his wife.
Sheâd like them. Sheâd get pretty, wide eyes and smile at Ben and it wouldnât matter that heâd just picked flowers like a fucking child, because Sheâd be happy.
He returned to the car, scowling at where he could still hear Her heartbeat through the walls of the gas station.
Youâre not being fucking fast, Sunshine.
There was barely a beat before she responded. Take it up with my asshole, Pretty Boy. Iâm shitting.
Are you almost done.
I think? Maybe five or six more minutes. Ben heard Her amusement bounce around his head, and he could fucking hear the smile on her face. Think youâll make it?Â
Shut the fuck up. Ben glared at the flowers, still in his hands. Do you need anything.Â
Like what?Â
I donât fucking know, what do gas stations sell now-
Probably the same things they sold in the 80s. Gum, candy, condoms, snack, soda, energy drinks-Â
What the fuck is an energy drink.
Like, a Red Bull or a Monster. There was a pause, and then, have you had a Red Bull?Â
Bulls arenât red, theyâre brown or some shit-
No, dummy, itâs a brand name. Like Doritos, but caffeine and sugar. Go get a Red Bull, Benjamin.
Ben frowned. Why.Â
Because I want to watch you drink it. Â
He looked down at the remainder of their money. Are you hungry.
If I say yes, will you buy the Red Bull. Â
He grunted Her name between their heads, and Her soft laugh echoed through his mind.
Iâll take whatever else you get. Â
What the fuck do you want, Sunshine-
Weâll share. Go get the food and Iâll find you after Iâm done.
Ben nodded to no one and put Her flowers in his pocket, taking one last assessing look around the lotâone more person had parked a white van, but that was itâbefore heading into the gas station convince store.
These things hadnât fucking changed in the slightest. Still flickering blue, washed-out fluorescent lights, dirty floors and walls, and messily stocked shelves. Ben stalked over to the drink fridges lining the walls, scanning the shelves for whatever the fuck a Red Bull wasâfigured out it was a silver and blue can, and decided to get the black and green one a few shelves instead on fucking principle aloneâand moved on to find Her some food.
The newer man, with the van, had walked into the store, joining Ben and the acrylic-nailed woman behind the counter, and was studying all the sandwiches and donuts near the register like he might actually find one that didnât taste like fucking shit. Ben decided to go for the snack isle instead, because he could kick the pussy out of his way, but Sheâd be eating whatever he ate. Ben wasnât that fucking hungry, and he knew if he tried to just give Her food and not take any himself, sheâd go on a strike and refuse to take a bite until he took one as well. That meant he had to figure out something that theyâd both eat, but Sheâd love more, enough to eat most of it without pawning half off to Ben. And Ben would not take a single fucking bite of a Styrofoam, gas station hot dog, so snacks it was.
He grabbed things he recognized. Potato chips and Rice Krispies and Oreos and Pop Tarts, and then a large bag of chocolates he could insist was only for Her, because he had this stupid fucking energy drink for himself. She needed to drink as well, actually, so Ben returned to the drink isle and scowled at the options. Colorful bottles and over-priced water and juices designed for children that Ben wouldnât be buying his wife-Â
Fuck. He kept doing that. Since DC, Benâs brain had decided to turn against his own interest of waiting and doing it right to just call Her his wife. She would beâheâd fucking kill the proposal, and make every other romantic thing in history look like a World Warâbut she wasnât yet. So he needed to get a goddamn hold over himself, grab one of those fancy fucking water bottles, and pay for everything so they could keep going before Ben did something stupid like asking Her to marry him in a parking lot.
He sensed Her before he even realized her heartbeat had moved. An innate feeling of closer, Sheâs getting closer, good things are getting closer, and then a ring of a high bell as the door opened. Ben had made his way over to the counterâwaiting as the cashier scanned everything in the slowest way goddamn possibleâand turned to see Her walking over to him with such a perfect fucking look of ease on her face, a small smile pulling at her lips as she assessed his picks.
She opened Her mouthâeyes meeting Benâs and full of a fucking light and sheer goddamn happiness that made him highâand that pussy fucking van idiot, mouthful of a sandwich he hadnât damn paid for yet, stepped between them.
âWhatâs a pretty little thing like you doing here, honey?â
She froze, and Ben felt his hands curl into fists as something started to twist and flail in his gut.
âI, um, I donât,â She looked over the manâs shoulder to Ben, and he jerked his head to the Van-Pussy.
Do you want me to kill him-
âYou up here with anyone? Nah, no way someone would leave you alone if you were, theyâd have to be a fucking cuck.â The man laughed to himself, and Ben took a jerked step forward to rip off his goddamn head.
No murder, Benjamin.Â
He halted, keeping his attention on Van-Pussyâs every shift and breath. Some small murder can be fucking justified, heâs got it coming-
Iâve got this. If you need to start punching holes in people, Iâll tell you.
Ben was going to break his own fucking teeth, his clenched jaw becoming slightly strained and almost painful, but he gave a small, curt nod. Swear it-
Promise. âI am actually. Here with someone.â
Van-Pussy laughed again, but this laugh was dismissive, like she was stupid. âPlease, honey. I donât see no one-â
She shrugged. âThen turn around.â
Ben coughed to cover his laugh, and Van-Pussy whipped around to meet his glare.
Then the fucking idiot rolled his eyes. âYou could do better than him, darling, youâre way too pretty for him. Come with me, and Iâll show you a real good time.â
That was an insane fucking statement. Ben had issues, but he also knew what his face looked like. He might be the only asshole alive who was close to being as attractive as she was. It was another reason he was fucking built to love Her right, because She deserved to fuck and smile and love someone who could hold even a tiny, flickering candle to the massive, consuming and cleansing inferno of life and beauty that she was.
Ben probably wouldâve broken Van-Pussyâs face for that statement alone, then his ribs for calling Her darling, and then his knees for how heâd started to reach for Her, but she was a fucking wonder of the universe and moved faster. Side-stepping Van-Pussy in a smooth movement, reaching a hand out for Ben to wrap his own around on instinct, and let Herself be tugged right up to his side, under his arm, where they both goddamn belonged.
âIâm good, thank you.â She gave Van-Pussyâs wide, almost thunder-struck expression a sweet, toxic, toothless smile, and turned herself and Ben around, back to the counter.
Ben kissed the top of Her head as she fully assessed his choices, the cashier somehow not finished scanning. âI can still fucking kill him if you want-â
She cut off his words, muttered in Her ear, with a turn of her head and full, long, kiss. âNo murder, Benjamin, my love.â She hummed into his mouth, and pulled away to rest her head on his shoulder, looking back to the food. âNo weed, huh?â
He blinked, frowning between Her and the counter. âWhat the fuck are you talking about-â
âWeed is legal in New York,â She shrugged. âAnd a lot of gas stations sell it now. It might not be regulated weed, but that doesnât really matter to you-â
âAre you fucking with me-â
âNope.â She bumped their shoulders, and turned to the cashier. âExcuse me, maâam, do you have any cannabis products-â
The cashier looked up at her with a flat, almost dead-eyed stare. âWe got joints, $40 for the bag.â
âCan you add that as well-âÂ
The woman turned around to the wall of cigarettes and condoms behind the counter, and She smiled up at Ben.
âSee? Weed-â
Ben cupped Her chin, holding her still so he could kiss her as deep and rough as he could manage without starting to fuck her on the disgusting floor of the gas station. She was fucking perfect, and amazing, and all Benâs and fuck he loved Her so goddamn much-
They only broke apart because the cashier cleared her throat, slamming a bag of weed on the counter and looking at Ben expectantly. âFifty-five bucks.â
Ben paidâhis instance that they didnât need a bag, because he could fucking carry everything without an issue being shot down by Her sharp glareâand guided Her out of the store, back to the car. Ben winked at Van-Pussy as they passed him, because She was his. Sheâd chosen Ben, and was tucked at his side with a smile and perfect fucking look of happiness on her beautiful face. She knew Ben, and got him weed, and loved him so much that Ben could see it everywhere. In the trash littered around the gas station and smudges of dirt on the windows of Butcherâs car. In the woods surrounding them and the and the sparkles of glass in the parking lot, in the reflection of rainbow in some stray oil pooling out of the pump, and Her smile as they climbed back into the car.
âNo weed now,â She glanced up at him as she pulled items out of the plastic bag, a tone of apology in her voice. âJust because we need to go, and canât afford to be pulled over if a patrol cop sees the driver smoking a joint.â Her eyes lit up, and Ben knew exactly what she was going to say before her mouth even opened. âOr-â
âYou are not driving, Sunshine.â Ben drawled, fighting his smile at the pretty wrinkle of Her nose. âDonât even fucking try to convince me otherwise.â
âCunt,â She mumbled, tossing the joints into the back of the car. âWhat do you want first?â
âWhatever you donât want.âÂ
She nodded, frowning at the bag. âChips?â
âI donât give a fuck-â
The bag of chips was half-chucked at his face, and Ben looked over to see her holding up the green can, her brows raised.
âBenjamin, this is not a Red Bull-â
âItâs the same shit, isnât it? And itâs green-â
âHoly fuck, Pretty Boy.â She giggled, passing him the drink. âYouâre like a toddler who wonât eat chicken nuggets because theyâre not shaped like dinosaurs-â
âShut the fuck up-â
âI think itâs adorable.â She leaned forwards, propping her chin on his shoulder. âAnd I love you, you old grump. Drink the Monster.â
Ben scowled, glaring down at Her as he popped the can open. âThis is dumb as shit-â
âYeah, it is. Do it, you pussy-â
He kissed Her once, just to turn her words into a soft moan, and pulled back with a smirk. âBrat.â
He took the drink in one gulp, and almost spat it out over Butcherâs dashboard.Â
âFucking Christ, this tastes like ass-â He glared at Her, head buried against him and absolutely failing to contain her laughter at his suffering. âPeople drink this shit on purpose-â
She nodded, her grin wide and toothy and unrestrained as she looked up to meet his eyes. âThey do, yeah. Itâs like dogshit coca cola, but also helps you finish an essay two hours before itâs due. It has its merits.â
âItâs fucking disgusting,â Ben grumbled, slamming the can into the cup holders for Butcher to throw out later, and She giggled again. âYou think this is fucking funny-â
âI do.â She pulled herself up, kissing along Benâs jaw and taking his hand in Hers. âI think this is hilarious.âÂ
âYouâre so fucking mean to me, Sunshine-â
âYou love it.â
He rolled his eyes, but squeezed Her hand and only muttered, âI do, you fucking brat.â
âThank you for trying that for me-â
âDonât.â Ben sighed, glancing Her as she settled back into her seat, their hands still tangled together. âI got you something.â
âYou got me lots of things.â She looked back to the bag, pulling out the chocolate with a smile. âVery good boyfriending, Benjamin.â
The radiant thing coursed through Benâs whole body, blooming over his ribs and warming his gut. It was damn near impossible to keep frowningâto keep his brow drawn and face neutralâwhen she was so contagiously happy. Like disease Ben wanted to,fucking needed to catch.
He shoved his hand into his pocket before he could pussy out, and coughed to regain her full attention. âI got you something else, as well.â
A small frown crossed her face as she titled Her head, scanning over Benâs very fucking serious expression. âWhat?âÂ
He pulled the flower out, extending it for Her to take with a stiff arm. He didnât have any fucking words for it, because it didnât need words. This flower was for Her. Ben had picked it for Her, and that was all he goddamn knew how to do. Ben knew how to do things for Her, because it was easier than breathing, and that was it, and it would have to speak for itself.
She was gaping between him and the flower, the whole world almost fucking drowning in the feeling of Herâinfinite and good and made of fire and life and love and honey and music and something golden Ben didnât have a name forâand when she reached out with a slightly shaking hand, her voice was soft.
âYou got me a flower?â
Ben grunted an agreement, trying to figure out what the fuck Her exact reaction was. Why she sounded so fucking nervous, when She was electric and overflowing inside on Benâs body.
âWhere-â
âWoods.â He muttered, jerking his head in the vague direction of where the family had stood. âThere were fuck ton of them-â
âYou,â She swallowed, glossy eyes moving to fully onto Benâs. âYou picked it for me?â
âOf course I picked it for you, who the fuck else would I pick it for-â
She practically launched herself out of Her seat, crashing her mouth into Benâs, and his words died with a groan as she straddled him. She was kissing Ben like sheâd fucking die if she didnât, grinding down onto him with moans of his name and sounds of want that made his cock grow painfully hard. Her hands were tangled in his hair, their bodies molded perfectly together, and fuck she smelled good, felt good, everything about Her was so fucking good-
âI love you,â She whispered, voice slightly unsteady as she pulled back to watch him, and Ben realized he could taste the salt from her tears. She was fucking crying, why the fuck was she crying-
âYou-â
âI love you so much, Ben.â She gave him one last, tender and sweet kiss, smiling against his lips. Youâre amazing, and I love the flower, and I really fucking love you.
Ben realizedâas he chased Her mouth back to his, feeling how every piece of Her was coated in pure fucking joyâthat the tears were happy tears. She was so goddamn happy it was making him feel fucking aliveâalive in a way that only She knew how to be, where everything was beautiful and had meaning and somehow Ben was still everything to Herâand he couldnât fight the grin from crossing his face and She settled back into her seat, fully taking the flower from his hand and looking at it like it she looked at him. Adoring and soft, Her whole face relaxed and not an ounce of pain or fear over her perfect features. She looked at the flower like it was a piece of Ben heâd carved out to offer Her, and that made the stupidity of picking his wife a flower feel more than goddamn worth it.
Heâd fucking done it again. Not his wife, yet. Ben could, probably, ask right fucking now and get it right, but they were on a time limit. They had an hour left to go before they reached Edgar, and couldnât afford to use time for Ben to pull her back over him and tell Her to fucking marry me, Sunshine, because I love you and Iâll give you a whole fucking garden if you ask me to. Iâll kiss you stupid on the grass, surrounded by as many flowers as you want, then fuck you stupider until youâre this happy all the goddamn time. Iâll buy you all the damn snacks you need, and drink a million more of those shit fucking cock-drinks if it always makes you giggle. Just fucking marry me, and Iâll love you however you ask for the rest of our lives. Forever. Iâll love you for fucking ever.Â
But stupid things like not letting America fall and crumble under Vought and Homelander made Ben have to start the engine and keep moving. His hand had returned to its home on Her thigh as she rambled about every single, pointless, perfect thought that popped into her head. She loved the color pink, and Ben wasnât allowed to call it stupid or girly, or sheâd put pink and blue glitter in his shampoo and then kick him in the balls. She loved flowers as well, and was proud of Ben for not killing Van-Pussy, and heâd somehow managed to grab her favorite Pop Tart flavor. She made him share her water, and threw an Oreo at his face when he grumbled about how he shouldâve fucking killed Van-Pussy, and started reaching between his legs to grab chips as she spoke, which didnât fucking help him focus on the road at all.
Ben had apparently gotten her a rose milkweed, which was a primary attractor of Monarch Butterflies.
âHow fuck do you know that-â
âI went to butterfly garden when I was a kid.â She shrugged, still smiling at the flower and twirling it between her fingers. âThey had these everywhere.âÂ
He gruntedâof course Sheâd just have fucking remembered thatâand let her continue on a tangent about butterflies and flowers and whatever the fuck else she wanted to talk about. She was distracted from the meeting with Edgarâ drawing closer and closer the longer they droveâand Ben got to hear her voice, so he was good. He could glance at her every few minutes and feel his mouth twitch at the eager, bright expression on her face as she spoke, and wonder if Sheâd want to go to a butterfly garden again. If that would make Her keep smiling like this, if She might tackle him and call him amazing again.
Heâd gave to figure that out later. Right now, they were parking in the back lot of Edgarâs prison, and had a fucking job to do. Sheâd slowly fallen silent as theyâd driven through the gateâher hand tapping against Benâs and teeth visible as she gnawed on her lipsâand when the engine turned off, Ben waited. Stay right at Her fucking side, holding and watching her until she took a long, heavy breath and met his eyes.
âThe plan-â
âGo in,â Ben grunted. âGive Edgar the keys, but not the V, and clear my debt. Try and get him to tell us what the fuck the keys are for, and let you take the lead if he asks about the V. No talking to anyone but Edgar and MMâs contact, no lingering and fighting if shit goes south. If hell breaks loose, get the fuck out and donât look back.â
She nodded slowly. âIf another guard asks who we are?â
âLet our insider take of it.â
âAnd if someone recognizes us-â
âThey wonât,â Ben grinned, reaching over and dropping Her sunglasses from her brow to her nose. âBecause we wonât be around long enough for a single fucking pussy to realize who we are.â
âDo you-â
Ben grabbed the stupid fucking Red Sox cap sheâd bought him from the backseat, glowering at Her as he dropped it over his hair. âThere is no goddamn reason it had to be Red Sox-â
âThe reason is that I think you look very handsome,â an infinite, sharp light danced in Her eyes, and she leaned up to kiss Ben over his beard, holding his jaw with a gentle touch. âWhen youâre so grumpy about a hat.â
âItâs fucking blue-â
âYouâll live, you massive fucking baby.â She dropped back, giving her own bodyâwearing her sunglasses, Benâs green shirt, and a green jacket Annie had gifted to herâa dramatic gesture. âAnd Iâm wearing enough green for both of us. Letâs haul ass Pretty Boy, so we can get it over with.â
Ben scowled, but climbed out of the car, half-running around the car to get her door before She could even fucking think to do it herself.
She smiled up at himâtaking Benâs hand and letting him help her out of her seatâand pressed Her palm to his chest as she gave him one last kiss. Barely a brush, just enough for Ben to have time to wrap his around fully around her waist and hold her face, dragging his thumb over her lips as they separated.
âSuch a fucking gentleman.â
She was teasing him, but the words still made Benâs heart almost pound out of his goddamn chest, made his whole fucking body wrathful and illuminated and fall in time with Her. Her, Her, Her, Ben fucking loved Her, and nothing was could have been better than this, be better than this, be better than them, burning together fucking always.
âShut up, brat.â Ben rolled his eyes, deciding to ignore how she could obviously fuck seeâand defiantly fucking feelâhow everything in his body was made of rough, permanent, immoveable affection and love for Her. âReady?â
âReady.â Her hand fisted in Benâs shirt, her head dropping to take long, steady breaths against him before looking back up, her face set and focused. âLetâs do this.â
MMâs contact was a surly, uptight man who worked for the prison and grunted more than Ben did. Heâd looked them up and down, muttered a request for proof of identificationâneither of them had that, so She set her hand on fire and Ben snapped the manâs baton in halfâand then nodded, gesturing for them to follow him. If he thought it was noteworthy how Benâs arm was resting on Her hipsâheld there by her hand over hisâthe man was smart enough not to say a fucking thing and only lead them long, twisting, empty halls to a steel-doored room, identical to last time.
âHeâs in there,â the manâheâd said his name, and Ben hadnât been fucked to remember itâtold them, looking Her and Ben up and down with a frown. âYou got an hour before he needs to be back in his cell.â
âGot it,â She was braced at Benâs side, every word coming out careful and neutral. âThank you.â
The man just shrugged, moving to stand against the wall and keep guard. âMM wouldnât ask if it wasnât serious as shit, so donât worry about it.â
She sighed, nodding, and looked back to Ben. Iâve got the keys, is it okay if I do most of the talking-
The talking is your shit, Sunshine. Ben kissed the space between Her eyes, dropping his head until their brows were pressed together and he could study Her pretty, sharp eyes. Iâve got you, but youâre doing the damn talking.
Okay. She took another, grounding breath, and Her heartbeat grew a little more natural before she pulled back, and pushed the door open.
Edgar was indeed waiting for them, handcuffed to a table and humming bland tune that halted as they entered the room.
He said Her name first, eyes not even fucking darting to Ben. âHow lovely to see you again.â
âIs it?â She dropped in one of the two metal chairs across from Edgar, pulling Ben with her. âIâd say itâs mediocre at best.â
Edgar huffed a small laugh. âI suppose the circumstances could improve vastly, but at least you have Benjamin.â
Ben got a nod, and before he could snap at Edgar to stop fucking calling him that, She did it for him.Â
âEdgar,â She leaned over the table, eyes on Edgarâs a dry, silent threat. âFor both our sakes, donât call him that.â
âAh.â Edgar hummed Her name. âI never took you for the territorial sort-âÂ
âIâm not. But every time you call my Ben Benjamin, youâre in danger of getting your head ripped off, which would be a real bummer for you, and Iâm in danger of visualizing things I have no interest in visualizing.âÂ
âWould I be able to hear an example of such a thing-âÂ
âDo you have a guess as to what three times I call him Benjamin the most are?â She barely waited a second for Edgar to think before she continued a lazy, edged smile on her face. âNever mind, Iâll just tell you. When Iâm pissed at him, when Iâm telling him I love him, and when heâs fucking me. So forgive me if I donât want to imagine my boyfriendâs cock in your mouth, Stan. I think Iâm doing us all a favor with that.â
Ben might have made sour, lip-curled face at the idea of Edgar giving him head if his brain wasnât spinning around Her calling him her boyfriend again. Husband would sound better. My husband was almost as fucking good as my Ben, and they did very fucking similar things to his whole fucking existence. Reduced everything to Her, a riot and song of Her.
Edgar didnât have the same thing weighing down his disgust, though, because the pussy just sighed, shaking his head. âYour very disturbing point has been taken. Shall we move to business?â
âWhat else are we even here for?â
âIndeed.â Edgar looked between them, Ben rigid at Her side and her fingers tapping a quick, unyielding pattern of Moon River on the table. âI trust you managed to fulfill my request without issue?âÂ
Ben wouldnât call Red River without issueâbetween Her having to move around a Vought Facility by herself, Ben being unable to do a single fucking thing but wait and try not to punch Hughie in the throat as he offered attempted words of comfort, and the whole fucking Ashley thing, it was a little damn insane nobody had diedâbut She nodded, giving Edgar a passive shrug.
âEveryone made it out in one piece. Consider your request,â She reached into her pocket and held up the keys for Edgar to see before tossing them onto the table. âFulfilled.â
Edgar barely fucking looked at the keys, just enough to acknowledge their presence before returning his gaze to Her. âIâd hazard that youâve speculated on their nature with your delightful band of misfits?â
âWeâd be terrible at our jobs if we didnât.â
âMost of you are quite awful at your jobs. But you,â Edgar said Her name with a thin-lipped smile. âSeem quite capable. Would you mind sharing with me your conclusions?â
Her eyes narrowed. âWould you tell me if I hit on anything correct?â
âIâd offer one better, and share their home and use with you. All you have to do is tell me what you believe my answer will be.â
She paused, blinking at Edgar, and Ben frowned. They hadnât expected Edgar to just fucking volunteer that information.
I donât fucking trust it, Sunshine-
I donât either. She glances over at him, and Ben could see a little hint of quickly drying blood as she chewed through her lips. But we have to play his game, and get this over with.
âWhenever you care to begin-â
âFine.â She turned back to Edgar, cutting him off with clipped words. âI think itâs for a house, or some other form of private property.â
A small, snake-like smile played on Edgarâs lips. âWhy?â
âBecause itâs a skeleton key, but itâs also magnet based, which means itâs meant to unlock multiple, potentially high-security doors. Itâs an intricate design, complicated, which means itâs probably not just as house, but all the same itâs yours. Not Voughtâs. Vought wouldâve sprung for a smart key. You chose not to.â
âDid I?â Edgar hummed, his face and tone still insufferably fucking unreadable. âPerhaps it is simply not that valuable-â
âWrong. It is.â She poked at the keys on the table with a shrug. âIf itâs a house, itâs a house with a name. Only rich assholes name their houses, and only weird cryptic fucks use fancy master keys. It might not be something dangerous, but itâs valuable. Important enough for you to hide.â
âImpressive.â Edgar nodded, his tone sounds almost fucking delighted. âWould you like to hear the real answer?â
She didnât dignify Edgarâs words with anything but a half-passive shrug, Her eyes on him still sharp and clear.
âThey are mine, but you were wrong in saying that they were not Voughtâs as well. Before they came into my possession, they were the property of one Dr. Fredrick Vought. Iâm sure youâve heard of his unfortunate history-â
âYou mean the Nazi thing?â She said, voice flat. âYeah, I might have.â
âDo you remember who the Naziâs were allied with, during Voughtâs time within the party?â
âThe axis powers were the Third Reich, Italy, and Japan. But I donât-â
âSmart girl.â Edgarâs smile twisted further over his face. âSee, Dr. Vought may have lost faith in Germanyâs capabilities and defected to America, but he returned to Europe many times after the warâs conclusion. Heâd made several friends within Mussoliniâs party, and paid them a visit from time to time. It was a retreat for him, a time to enjoy like-minded company and get extra eyes on his various projects. Even after heâd perfected compound V, Vought still made many trips back to Italy, if only for leisure. Around the 60s, he went so far as to have a villa built in one of his favorite spots, and named it the Cornucopia. A villa I inherited when he stepped down, and passed me the mantle of Vought CEO. These,â Edgar nodded back to the keys. âServe as the master key, for the master of the house. Myself.â
She frowned. âWouldnât that technically mean theyâre Ashleyâs? If the villa is traditionally passed down from CEO to CEO?â
âIt would,â Edgar sighed. âIâm afraid it absolutely slipped my mind into the chaos of my arrest to alert my successor of its location or existence. However, given that Dr. Vought and I are the only two owners, I wouldnât quite call it tradition, which is why I am more than comfortable skipping over Mr. Barrett altogether and gifting it to you.â
Ben had very fucking rarely seen Her purely shocked. Gaping and wide-eyed, her beautiful face a picture of confusion, looking at Edgar like heâd just started speaking a different fucking language.
âI, um, I donât-â
She stuttered and tripped over words when she was short-circuiting. When Her brain was overloaded with fear or lust, and had worked itself into a fucking overdrive Ben usually knew how to fixâholding Her until she was happy again, or fucking Her until she was stupid and glossy-eyed, and managed to kick herself back into gearâbut didnât have a goddamn idea how to help now.
âWhat the fuck do you mean, gifting it to her.â Ben took over, squeezing his hand on her hips in a silent reassurance, and fucking prayed that some answers would help bring her back down.Â
âI mean what I say. The property and all its contents now belong to you,â Edgar angled his head to Her, saying her full name.
âWhy.â
âBecause, Soldier Boy, I like her. A feeling I am sure you will not take issue with-â
Ben scowled. âYouâre not the gifting type, you dick, so tell us why-âÂ
âI am afraid it is no more complex than a simple an affection and well-wish. Iâve been feeling more generous,as of late, and no longer have use for a villa halfway across the world.â Edgar turned away from Ben, back to Her. âYou are clever, with a hopefully bright future, and I believe you may find worth in it.â
That seemed to pull Her back down enough to respond, thought Her voice softer, more uncertain, than usual. âWorth? What kind of worth?âÂ
Edgar dismissed Her question entirely. âYou may also keep your V. I do not doubt that youâd simply forgotten it,â he looked between Her and Ben with a raised brow. âBut it was never fully mine to begin with. I trust you wonât be foolish with such a volatile and dangerous drug, and if you are, please keep it far away from me.â
She blinked, glancing back down to the keys. âI canât take these-â
âTake them or not, theyâre now yours.â
âBut-âÂ
âIt is a gift,â Edgar said Her name, voice slightly more edged. âIt cannot be returned. Should you leave the keys here, they will be your lost property. Your responsibility.â
âItâs,â She cleared her throat, raising her still voice to a steady tone. âItâs in Italy?â
Edgar nodded. âRome. The northern area, I believe. Forgive me, I only had a chance to see it once.â
She swallowed slightly. âAnd itâs mine?â
âCorrect.â
She pulled her gaze fully from the keys, onto Edgar. âIs that, thatâs all? No hidden plans or debts or secret terms?â
âIf you are asking about Soldier Boyâs debt, it is forgiven.â Edgarâs cold smile had returned, his attention moving to Ben. âIt was a pleasure doing business with you, and Iâd shake your hand, but as you can see,â he pulled slightly on his cuffs. âI am otherwise occupied.â
Ben just grunted, and she took a long breath.
âWeâre done here, then?â
âTragically, yes.â Edgar sighed. âOur time has run out.â
âAwesome.â She stood up, Benâs arm half supporting her, and gave Edgar a small, tight nod. âHave a good life, I guess. And, uh, thanks.â
âGifts do not require thanks,â Edgar said Her name with a bored smile. âAnd I am sure we will be seeing each other again.âÂ
âYeah, well.â She grabbed the keys off the table, returning them to her pocket. âHereâs hoping we donât.âÂ
Before they left, she found Edgar a piece of paper to write the address on, Ben giving Edgar a long, angry glareâjust for the fucking sake of itâuntil She tugged him back into the hall. MMâs contact was waiting, and barely looked at them before he grunted to follow his lead out. Ben looked down at Her as they walked, a grin tugging at his face.
You got a fucking house.
Villa. She corrected him in Her head with a sigh, leaning further into his side. And itâs a Nazi villa, so Iâm not exactly thrilled.
Who gives a fuck what it was, Sunshine. Ben nudged Her shoulder, waiting for her to look up before continuing. Itâs yours now, and you can do whatever the hell you want with it.
She blinked at him as they exited the prison. Like what?
Fill it with bugs and rat shit. Or baby animals and chocolate-
Thatâs dangerous, Ben, a lot of animals canât eat chocolate-
He rolled his eyes. Then make it a fucking hospital, smartass, or an orphanage. Live in it or blow it up. Whatever the fuck you do with it, itâs yours.
Ours. She smiled at Ben, and the radiance bloomed around his heart and along his spine. Weâre fuck-buddy-brain-connected, Benjamin, so the villa is your problem as well.
He should do it now. Ben should just fucking pin Her against Butcherâs car, kiss Her until she was fully relaxed in his arms, drop to his knees, and do it. Tell Her that theyâll be fuck-buddy-brain-connected forever, and heâd never call them that aloud, so they should just get fucking married so she could say youâre my husband, Benjamin, so the villa is your problem as well, and Ben could kiss Her softly and mutter that nothing with her was a problem. She was the best thing in his fucking life, and she couldnât be a problem if she tried. And She certainly fucking had. Also, just as another damn bonus, Ben could call Her his wife to anyone who was around to hear it, and they could have world-ending engagement sex in Butcherâs backseat, until the pussy couldnât drive without smelling Benâs cum and Her squirting.
And Ben probably would have actually gone through with that plan, had they not reached the car to find Sister Sage in the driverâs seat, sorting through their remaining snacks with The Deep at her side, his feet up on the dashboard.
Ben grabbed his gunâhalf shoving Her behind him as he yanked open the doorâand pressed its barrel to Sageâs temple. âWhat the fuck are you pussies doing here.â
Sage didnât even flinch, turning her head to meet their eyes and moving the gun to her brow as The Deep started to climb over, shouting protests Ben could barely hear over the ringing in his ears.
âHey, dude! Thatâs not cool-â
âDeep,â Sheâd moved back to Benâs side, a light hand on arm in a silent request not to yet shoot. âShut up-â
âNo, you shut up, you traitorous whore bitch-â
Ben re-aimed the gun at the Deep, who cut himself off with a swallow. âYou watch your fucking mouth when you speak to her, fish-fuck.â
âOr what.â In a remarkable act of sheer fucking stupidity that was impossible to mistake for bravery, the Deep kept talking. âWhatâs so magic about her blowjobs that sheâs got every fucking guy who gets one obsessed with her-â
Ben clicked off the safety, raising the gun slightly higher. âI warned you.â
âHey, dude, woah, calm down.â The Deep raised his hands, cowering like a fucking pussy. âI didnât know you were serious about-â
Sage raised her hand, and the Deep fell silent.
âCall off your hound,â Sage said Her name in a lazy, almost annoyed tone, and Benâs grip on the gun almost snapped it in half. âWeâre here to talk.â
She looked between Sage and the Deep with weary eyes, and didnât tell Ben to lower the gun. âHow did you know we were here.â
âWe received a tip that the Anomaly and Soldier Boy were alone together in upstate New York, only an hour away from Stan Edgarâs prison.â Sage gave Here a flat look. âIt doesnât take genius to connect those dots. And I am a genius.â
She glanced at Ben. Fuck, someone must have recognized us-
Van-Pussy.
Who-
The asscuck that tried to hit on you. Nobody else but the cashier saw us, and she was high as tits.
Damn it. Light danced slightly in Her eyes, even as her expression remained set and passive. I should have let you kill him.
Ben knew She was joking, but that didnât stop his grunted, smug response of, damn right you should have.
She wrinkled her nose at him and turned back to Sage, who was watching them with a titled head. âWhat do you want.â
âWhat was that?â Sage looked between Her and Ben with a wolfish smile. âWhat did you two just do?â
The Deep frowned. âThey didnât do anything, they just stared at each other for like a minute
âExactly, you fucking idiot.â Sage rolled her eyes. âBut something still happened. Can I guess?âÂ
âNo.â She snapped, glancing back to the Deep. âWhatâs he doing here?â
âI got the tip, I fucking caught you-â
âYou thought it was nothing.â Sage shot the Deep a cold glare. âAnd only told me because youâre mandated to pass on any report of the Anomalyâs actively.â
Ben heard Her heart pick up pace in her chest as the Deep turned red, stumbling over his words. âWell, Iâm the one that had the helicopter idea-â
âAnd I flew it. Youâre only here because youâd have gone to Homelander if you didnât.âÂ
âYou,â She looked between Sage and the Deep. âYou havenât told Homelander.â
âOf course not.â Sage dismissed Her with a shrug. âIâm here to talk to you, not monologue and blow you up.â
Her nails dug into Benâs arm, and Her words were slow, careful. âThatâs not interesting, is it.â
A smile that Ben didnât fucking understand, but made Her lean further into him, crossed Sageâs face. âExactly. Homelanderâs a fucking idiot. I canât have him messing this up.â
âHey, donât talk about my man Homelander like that, I could still tell him what youâre up to-â
âNo, you canât.â Sage didnât look at the Deep as she cut him off, her attention locked between Ben andâprimarilyâHer. âGo to him now, and youâre an accomplice. You kept this from him, and he wonât be forgiving of that.â
The blood drained from the Deepâs face, and She cleared her throat.Â
âWhy are you here, Sage. What do you want.âÂ
âLike I said before, to talk-âÂ
âAbout what.âÂ
Sageâs wolfish grin returned, cruel and jeering and fucking annoying as shit. âYouâll see.â
Ben kept his eyes on Sage and the Deepâs every movement as he spoke, low and gruff, down the line to Her head. I can just fucking shoot them, and we can go-
No. She sighed, squeezing Benâs arm once. The only way out of this is to talk to them.
Or kill them-
Sage will have a failsafe for that. And I think she really is just here to talk.
Ben scowled. Why.
She knows she canât kill us. Homelander, She took a heavy breath, and Ben risked a glance to see her face hollow and tired. Homelander isnât here. Heâs not the wait and hide type. And Sage wonât call him until she and the Deep are far away from whatever happens after he arrives. She has something to say, or sheâd have just sent Homelander to start with. And I want to hear what it is.
They make single wrong fucking move-
And you shoot them. âGet out of the car, and we can talk.â
âGood choice.â Sage climbed out of the driverâs seat, crossing her arms as the Deep scrambled out behind her. âIâm sure we could all build a little more trust if I didnât have a gun pointed at me for the duration of our conversation.â
âTough fucking shit.â Ben growled, tracking the Deepâs stumbling steps to Sageâs side. âTalk.â
âFine.â Sage sighed, turning to Her. âI believe you have something I want.â
Her features remained passive, but her body was half falling onto Benâs. He shot an arm around Her waistâgun still set on Sageâand her hand held him there as she resounded with bored words. âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
âWell, as Iâm sure Ashley has told you-â
âI havenât seen Ashley since I left the tower-â
âPlease.â Sage gave Her a pointed look. âAshleyâs last known location was Red River, the same day that hours of camera footage were erased, and several windows were melted away. I know sheâs defected, but itâs fine. Iâve accounted for it. But she may have mentioned to you that Iâve been hounding Stan Edgar for months, and you might be able to help me get what I want.â
âWhy the fuck would we ever help you-â
Sageâs words were dry but firm over Benâs. âBecause everyone has something they want. And I could help you, if you helped me.â
âHow,â She paused, studying Sageâs face. âWhy would you help us?â
âI wouldnât be helping you, Iâd be exchanging a good for a service.â Sage looked between Her and BenâBenâs arm around Her body, Her fingerâs tangled in hisâand smirked. âIf you give me the Cornucopia, Iâll help you get out.â
âWhatâs the Cornucopia-â
âWhat Iâm looking for.â Sage shrugged. âEdgar told me he had someone retrieving it, and now youâre here. When you find it, bring it to me instead, and youâll be done. Forever.â
Ben caught it that time. The slight stumble of Her heart tipped him off, but he hadnât missed those words. When you find it. Sage didnât know they had it now.
They had a fucking advantage.
Sunshine-
I know. âWhat do you mean done.â She asked aloud, eyes narrowed. âHow is that our end.â
âBecause youâll be gone.â Sage said, a glint in her eyes. âYouâll leave New York, leave Butcher and his cohort of idiots, leave Vought and Homelander and this whole fucking country, and never look back. And Iâll ensure nobody ever finds you again.â
Ben went rigid. Out. Really fucking out, with nobody to ever bother them again. Sheâd be safe, and Ben would be with her. Nobody would ever try to take him away from Her, and nothing would make her cry anything but happy, easy tears for the rest of their fucking lives.
âWhy.â She frowned, fingers tapping on Benâs hand. âIf Ben and I go, thatâs it. No more games, or battles. Itâs not interesting.â
âIt could be.â Sage grinned, and it was fucking blood-curling. âYou could make one last statement, really fuck up everything up, and leave. You could affirm Starlightâs story, tell Homelander youâve never loved him, and Iâd have to clean that up. You could shoot Butcher up with that V you stole from Homelander, and let them go scorched earth while youâre far, far away from it. Fucking your boyfriend and never thinking about any of this again. You could make it interesting, however you want, and get out. Iâm sure you want out. Wouldnât it be so nice for you to just be done?â
It would be the be best thing in the goddamn world to be done. To leave, and never look back. To just be at goddamn peace together, and fuck on a beach or in a forest, and let some other sorry fuckers deal with the fallout of this whole goddamn thing. Ben had faith in Her ability to deal Sage one last blow that would be difficult to fix, and their team would be able get the V and kill Homelander themselves. Sage might fucking stab them in the back, but they could take extra precautions themselves. Measures to make sure that it was just Her and Ben forever.
But no Ryan. None of the rest of their team, and no freedom. Ben could hear Her heartâstuttering and rapid against himâand knew that this would just be locking Her up in a new goddamn way. And Ben wouldnât be fucking worthy of Her. Heâd be pulling her away from every single other thing she lovedâand a few things he tolerated more than othersâjust to have her to himself. And heâd never fucking do that to her. She deserved to have the whole fucking world, not just a small sliver Sage offered them. She wouldnât be able to help anyone, and She needed to help, or sheâd go fucking insane. Theyâd both be away from Ryan, and the kid was just starting to calm the fuck down and stop blaming himself for everything. Christ, She was just starting to stop blaming herself of everything. And Ben, Ben was still repenting.
He was repenting. He was fucking repenting, and this war was part of that. His whole goddamn life was about Her, and he knew that if he told Sage he was in, Sheâd love him enough to follow him. She loved Ben, and it still wasnât something heâd ever fully deserveâhow infinite and powerful and intoxicating Her love wasâso had to keep goddamn earning it.
âShove it up your evil fucking ass with the stick, Sage.â He grunted, his hold on Her hips tightening. âWe donât need your goddamn help. We can get out ourselves, after we kill all you spineless fucking pussies.â
Sage gave him an almost amused look. âThe offer wasnât for you to decide on, Soldier Boy-â
âHis answer is my answer.â She cut Sage off with a shrug, and Ben felt something hot and prideful and loud grow near his heart. âNo.â
âYouâd let a foolish, violent man speak for you?â Sage scoffed Her name, and Her hand grew warm in Benâs. âEven if you love him, Iâd have expected better-â
âWhy?â She snapped, the look of pure fucking blood and exhausted wrath on her face one Ben knew to mean danger. âEveryone keeps expecting better of me, but they really fucking shouldnât. Iâm going to let Ben speak for me, because he loves me, and he knows me. Weâll pass on your offer, but thanks.â
Sageâs face was drawn in a tight frown and analytical glare, probably trying to figure out how to talk them over to her sideâshe wouldnât fucking succeededâbut the Deep was gaping. Looking between Her and Ben with wide, confused eyes.
âYou,â The Deep cleared his throat, voice uncertain. âYou dudes are like, in love love? Not just fucking?â
Something sparked in Her eyes, and she leaned forward slightly as she answered. âYep. Love love. But we do also fuck. A lot.â
The Deep swallow. âOh.â
âReal nasty sex as well.â She shrugged, a smirk playing over her pretty lips. âHeâs good with his hands, and his dick is huge. I mean, the sex would be good regardless, I love him more than life, but he has a massive dick. It helps.â
Ben frowned, glaring down at Her. What the fuck are you doing.
Trust me. We need to rile him up.
Why the hell-
Sage canât stand stupidity. If we can get her to fight with the Deep, the dumbest person I know, then one of them might slip.
Ben looked back to the Deep, and if that was what they needed to do, it was working. The fish-pussy had turned red, and his eyes seemed like they were going to pop out of his goddamn head.
âUh, congrats. Sage, we should like, tell Homelander that-â
âDo not tell Homelander anything, you fucking idiot.â Sage hissed. âAnd shut up-â
âBut if theyâre like, really serious-â The Deep cut himself off, looking back to Her. âIs it serious-â
âYes.â Benâs words were short and firm, because heâd been five fucking seconds from proposing to Her before these two goddamn fuckheads had shown up. She looked up at him with a small smile and sharp amusement, bumping their shoulders.
Itâs serious, Pretty Boy?
Shut the fuck up. Ben rolled his eyes at Her pretty, perfect, teasing face. I love you, or course itâs fucking serious.
She hummed, a little light blooming in Benâs head, even as Sage and the Deep continued arguing. We are fuck-buddy-brain-connected.Â
Brat-Â
âIf itâs serious,â the Deep was still fucking whining, and Sage looked two seconds from punching him. âHomie should know. He thinks she still loves him, but sheâs clearly with Soldier Boy-â
She snorted. âDid you just fucking call Homelander Homie?â
âYeah, I did.â The Deepâs chest puffed out, and he shot Her a glare. âHeâs my bro, and Iâm not going to let some hot piece of ass string him along when sheâs in love with his dad-âÂ
Ben moved to gun to the Deep, and the pussyâs words stuttered off. âFucking watch it.âÂ
âHey man,â the Deep raised his hands, palms up. âI was like, fucking around before, but her head canât be that good. Homie deserves better, and youâre like, a man man. Donât let some chick control you-â
âI donât control him.â She snapped, and Sage fucking laughed. A dry, empty laugh that made Her swallow and Ben feel fucking sick as he re-aimed the gun at Sageâs head.Â
âDoesnât she?â Sage looked between them, voice dripping with a mocking, fake sweetness. âI remember Soldier Boy being an honorable, strong gentleman. But here you are, pointing a gun at a vulnerable woman when youâre at a clear advantage, letting to your girlfriend tell you what to do like a pathetic little dog.â
Ben didnât fucking care about Sageâs mocking words. He was being honorable, because he was protecting Her. He was fucking helping her, and listening to Her because she fucking had this, and Ben trusted her. He wasnât listening to a woman, he was listening to his woman. The most perfect one in history, who was half hanging off his arm with glazed eyes, her breathing mechanical as something loose and hollow writhed around in BenâsâHerâgut.
And that was what Ben fucking cared about. How Sageâs words had made everything fucking horrid and vile because She was hurt by them, and nothing was fucking allowed to hurt her. Not when Ben could fucking do something about it.
âYou are not a vulnerable woman,â Ben hissed at Sage, something like bile on his tongue. âYouâre an evil, conniving bitch.â
Sage didnât even goddamn waver, continuing as if Ben hadnât even fucking spoken. âItâs not healthy, your little arrangement. Love or not, youâre going to be lost and alone when she eventually leaves you.â Sageâs jeering, skin-crawling smile was covering her whole fucking face. âAnd she will leave you, Soldier Boy. Sheâll realizes that youâre not a white knight, come to save her and the world from Homelander, and sheâll leave you.â
âWatch your fucking mouth-â
âYouâre not an angel. Youâre not good enough to heal what Homelander did to her, and sheâll realize that soon.â Benâs vision was lined with red, his body goddamn frozen as drums sounded far, far in the distance, and Sage kept fucking talking. âThat Homelander gets all his anger from somewhere. That youâre no better than he is, because when she tries to leave you, you wonât let her go. Youâll grovel like a child, and when she says no, youâll force her to stay. Lock her up and keep her just for yourself-â
She was moving before Ben even fucking registered that Sheâd let go of his arm. Her smoking, flame-wrapped fist flew through the air and collided with Sageâs face, and a hiss echoed through the air as Sage let out a shriek of pain. Ben saw a flash of something metallicâthe Deep shouting and flying at Her with a raised fistâand shot. The fish-fuck landed in the dirt at Sageâs side, the bullet wound on his shoulder more than fucking effective as he whimpered in pain. It wasnât enough to kill the pussyâShe hadnât killed Sage, so Ben had followed suitâbut enough to bleed out if no aid arrived.
âYou manipulative fucking cunt.â She was a step in front of Ben, glaring down and Sage and the Deep on the pavement. âBen might not be a white knight, but heâs nothing like Homelander, and you fucking know it. Heâs certainly a better fucking person than you are.â
Sageâs words were unsteady and strained, but still crude. Still fucking hateful. âIf you really believe that, youâre not as smart as I gave you credit for-âÂ
âAnd I donât fucking care.â She hissed. âNext time you say anything like that to him, Iâll burn your fucking brain out of your skull.â
âWeâre not done here-âÂ
She huffed a dry, empty laugh. âYeah. You are. Ben and I are going to leave, and youâre not going to follow us. And if you try to call Homie, then it will be over. Iâll kill everyone, and that will be it.âÂ
Sage scoffed Her name. âYou canât really think Iâll fall for such an obvious bluff-â
âI donât need you to, because itâs not a bluff.â She leaned down slightly, holding Sageâs glare. âHomelander shows up, I kill him, and you, and the Deep. If that somehow kills me, then fine. At least it weâll be done. Really fucking done. No games. Not interesting.â
Sage spat out blood, eyes narrowed on Herâs. âThatâs cheating.â
âMaybe,â She shrugged, rising back up and looping her arm through Benâs. âBut I donât care.â
Something was still fucking aching and toxic in Benâs body and she pulled him back to the car. It hadnât been a bluff. Ben knew how to read Her bluffs, and that hadnât fucking been one. And She wouldnât have killed Ben. He wouldâve been left to wait in a scorched forest for the rest of goddamn time, waiting for Her to walk out of the smoke and smile at him again. Sheâd have burned out without him, and heâd never be able to fucking hold her again.
Sage doesnât know what the Cornucopia is. She slid into the passengerâs seat, letting out a long breath. But sheâs still looking for it, which isnât good-
Ben grunted Her name between their heads, his grip on the wheel white-knuckled, bending the metal under his hands. You know Iâd never fucking do that shit to you-
Of course I know that-
And Iâll never let Homelander hurt you again. Ben started the engine, holding Her attention with a glare. If he ever fucking comes for you, youâre not fighting him alone. You burn, I burn, Sunshine, that was the fucking deal. Weâd kill Homelander and Sage and the Deep, together. Got it?
She gave Ben a soft smile, and nodded, her voice in his head low and gentle. I got it. Ready?
Ben grunted. Ready. Youâre good.
Iâm good. She sighed, leaning her head onto Benâs shoulder as he began to drive. Iâve got you, Benjamin, my love. Iâm good.
Even as they drove away from Sage and the Deep on the pavement, with a whole new fucking problem that was made of what the fuck do they do about the Cornucopia now on their hands, Ben grinned. That radiance covered his chest and gut and skin, and nothing really fucking mattered but Her, and finishing this. Finally being free of this dogshit circus, and being a little more worthy of Her hand in his, forever.
There wasnât really that much shit left to do before they could be free, and together, forever.
âââââââââ
Itâs been a long, shit fucking day, and youâre only halfway done with it. Your blood is yours, and your skin barely has an itch beneath it, but youâre so fucking tired.
And youâre not sure if itâs that piece of your brain inside of him, or just how well Ben knows you, but the asshole has started to coddle you. His hand has returned to rest on your thighâitâs there so often youâre starting to think his palm has developed some sort of magnet to your legâand heâs very obviously doing everything he can to distract you from how this is your last shot. That this might end with blood in gutters and covering hands, butâif you do this rightâit will all be done. This has to be done. There are too many other battles to fight for this truly critical one to not be wonsoon.
And Ben wonât let you think about that. He seems to have decided for himself that his job is to drive you aroundâbecause heâs a dick who has flat out refused to ever let you behind the wheel of a car on account of it being dangerous to everyone on the fucking roadâand keep your brain everywhere but they imminent threat of Homelander. Sage. The CIA and Mallory, what will the after look like and who gets to have one, why would Edgar just give you a Nazi villa, and what the fuck does Sage want with it when she doesnât even seem to know itâs a villa-
âYouâre hungry.â
You look over to Ben, his eyes set on the road ahead of you. âWhat?â
âYour stomach,â he mutters. âIt growled. Youâre hungry.â
You are hungry. And it might just be Benâs deep, firm, certain voice and how your body obeys it more than you, but it doesnât really matter because suddenly you realize that youâre hungry.Youâd eaten breakfast this morning, before youâd left for Edgar, and then the snacks Ben had bought you close to noon, but thatâs it. Itâs late afternoon, the sky turning red and gold on the horizon, and youâre really, really hungry.
âThereâs a rest stop in a few miles-â
âNo.â Ben snaps, glancing at you with a scowl. âNot a fucking chance.â
You sigh, because heâs right. You canât risk being recognized again, and this wouldnât be a sketchy, overgrown gas station. This was a rest stop on an interstate highway.
âSo what should we do?â You watch Ben carefully, because you can feel his resolve ripping in half, and you think heâs fighting with himself about something.
âThey still got McDonalds on highways?â
You smile, propping your chin on his shoulder. âAre we in America?â
Ben snorts, and the resolve settles back into itself. Firm and concrete and all around you like a hot, stone shield. âBrat.â
âCunt. Are we getting McDonalds?â
He gives you a curt nod, eyes darting to meet yours and the glow inside him crossing over your ribs and blooming in your heart.
Heâs so fucking handsome. The sunset is making him look goldenâdark hair and defined features and eyes that follow you in the earth and fill you with lifeâand itâs not making it easy for to you remind yourself that heâs not an angel.
It helps to remember that angels arenât real, and Ben is very real. Heâs warm under your touch, and strong and careful in his natural hold on you. His thumb is rubbing circles on your skin, and his arm muscles keep flexing as he drives, and you want them around you, holding you to his chest as his cock hits that deepest spot inside you. You want to see his beautiful eyes watch you unravel under him, want to hear his low, teasing, affectionate voice make your stomach warm as he calls you good and beautiful and darling-
âAre you going to answer me, Sunshine, or just keep fucking drooling?â
You blink, and see his smirk, feel his whole body rushing with a cocky, bright pride. âI donât-â
âYou were staring, and itâs real fucking rude,â He drawls your name, squeezing his hand against you. âIâm not a piece of meat for you to objectifine.â
âObjectify.â You correct, even as your face grows warm. âAnd I donât feel that bad about objectifying you, Pretty Boy. Youâve objectified me.â
âWhen the fuck-â
âWhat was the very first thing you noticed about me?â
Ben pauses, brows drawn, and you realize heâs actually thinking about it. Youâd expected a small grunt of how the fuck am I supposed to remember that, Sunshine, it was over half a goddamn year ago, but his fist is clenched on the wheel, and heâs glowering at the road, so heâs really trying to give you an actual answer.
âHeartbeat.â
You tilt your head at him. âHeartbeat?â
âYour heartbeat was normal,â he grunts, his jaw set and words low. âWhen you woke me up. Mallory, Butcher, and Annie were all being anxious pussies, and Hughie was going to fucking piss himself, but you werenât afraid. Of me.â
Ben glances at you as he finished, something so bloody and powerful inside of his body, and his gaze filled with it. A twisted and pious awe thatâs all for you, that ignites your blood in a way that makes you feel seen. Seen and really fucking alive.
âI,â you swallow, fighting your urge to climb on top of Ben and kiss him all over his stupid, handsome face, if only because thatâs not very safe driving. âOh. I thought youâd say my tits.â
âI noticed your tits as well,â he shrugs, winking at you. âBut thatâs only because Iâm not fucking dead, and youâre the most beautiful woman in history.â
You wrinkle your nose at him, and try to ignore how you need to touch him, or else you might explode into a mess of Ben. Loving you and always being so sweet at the worst, most inconvenient time. âShut up-â
âNo.â Suddenly, something is tight and sore over your lungs and around your throatâBenâs lungs and throatâand when he speaks again, his voice is low and tense. âWhat did you notice about me.â
âHonesty, I donât remember.â You sigh, a little guilt eating at your heart and gut when Benâs frown deepens. âI was a little, um, out of it. I didnât really think Iâd like you all that much, let alone, uh, love you.â
You swallow, because even though Ben knows you love him now, this feels strange to say. Like youâre mostly rolling your eyes at your past self, who had truly believed sheâd be able to wake up Soldier Boy, keep him in line with powers she could barely control, live with him in a mutual contempt, and leave him without a second thought at the end. She had been a real fucking idiot, because youâre never going to leave Ben. Heâll have to peel you off of him and snap your heart in two, and even then you might try to crawl after him and beg him to change his mind.
But thatâs another reason why you love him. Ben wouldnât ever hurt you, let alone like that. Heâll keep you against him and hold you carefully and reverently for the rest of time, and if you fell to your knees and begged him to stay with you, heâd pick you up, kiss you, and call you fucking stupid for thinking heâd ever leave you.
Right now, though, heâs just nodding with almost a pout on his face, and you can feel the soreness inside him grow.
âBut,â you push forward, offering him a soft smile that you mean with all your heart, which belongs to Ben. âI think I know when I started loving you.â
Ben glances at you again, almost wearily. âYou said that didnât matter to you.â
âIt doesnât,â you shrug. âI feel like Iâve loved you forever, and thatâs all I care about. But if you want to know-â
He gives a quick grunt of affirmation, the soreness pounding and clenching over himâgrowing slightly electric, almost wildâand you take a long breath.
âThe club. That we went to with the team. I, um, I liked being near you, and I didnât want to stop being near you.â The soreness starts to ease away, but Benâs grip on the wheel is white-knuckled, and your body is still sore and tensed, so you continue. âJust the, um, just the thought of you calmed me down. And you looked really handsome, and I liked when you laughed and smiled at me, and holding your hand felt good. I didnât ever want to stop holding your hand, and that was scary, but not because of you, because Iâve never been scared of you, just because I didnât want to leave you, and Iâd never felt that before, I didnât think Iâd ever feel it at all, after Homelander, and I think thatâs why I didnât immediately realize I loved you, because Iâd never been in love like this before. I mean, it was really confusing, because my job was to make sure you didnât go rogue, but I was mostly just thinking about you and boob-drugs-â
Ben cuts off your rambling with a scowl. âWhy the fuck were you thinking about boob-drugs.â
âYou liked her,â you mumble, burying your face in his arm. âAnd I didnât want to care, but I did-â
âI didnât like her.â
You shake your head against him. âYou donât have to lie, Ben-âÂ
âI donât fucking lie to you,â he snaps, and you chance at look up at him. Still golden in the light of the sunset, impossibly handsome with an almost confused scowl and deep words you can feel in your chest. âShe was an annoying bitch, I didnât give a fuck about her.â
âBut you were, um,â you force the words out, chewing on your tongue. âYou were hungry.â
âWhat-âÂ
âFor her. I could feel your hunger for her, and itâs your lust-âÂ
âThat was for you, smartass.â
The whole world because blurred and sharp all at onceâlike it does when youâre under Ben, with some part of him inside you and getting you high on just his touch and smell and feelâand you realize Ben is better than an angel, because heâs yours. This stubborn, grumpy, impossible man is all yours, and you can feel his love hot and focused in your chest.
âOh.â
Ben snorts slightly, and you can feel an airy, smug disbelief in his head. âHave you seriously been thinking I was trying to fuck Boob-Drugs this whole time-â
âFuck you-â
âI wanted to.â Ben grins, and the soreness is obliterated by a swelling, hot and bright feeling in his chest and spine. âI wanted to pick you up and fuck you on that table, Sunshine. You were the most beautiful thing Iâve ever seen, you are the most beautiful thing Iâve ever seen, and Iâm never going want to fuck anyone but you again.â He turns his head, eyes still on the road, and kisses your brow. âI told you my dick is yours, darling, and it has been for a damn long while. I love you, not some fucking coke whore in a club.â
A smile tugs at your lips, and you press your head back into his body, moving one hand to tangle in his. I love you too. And if it helps, my pussy is yours.
Ben chuckles, and it rolls through your body, leaving everything soft and calm in its wake. Good.
You nod, a little stupidly, and start to wonder if Ben asking you to marry him hadnât just been a half-dream created by all your love for him that lived with your head. That it hadnât just been a wishful haze born from the smell of pine and taste of salt, or the feel of warm safety around you and constant loop of Ben, Ben, Ben that was everything good. If the deep words youâd felt in your bones werenât just created by your cock-drunk, Ben-drunk brain.
You donât get to ask, though, because Benâs pulling into the rest stop and demanding your order before repeating it in rough words to the drive-thru speaker. You put on your sunglasses, just for safety, and Ben leans his body forward to half-block any view of you from the cashier and serving windows.
From there, the rest of the drive is impossibly easy. Things with Ben are always easy, but you know that heâs working harder than usual to keep it that way. He lets you put on music to cover the rumble of the engine, and gives you pointed glares when your food starts to be forgotten in your hands. Heâs indulging in your every rant about nothing, pulling you out of any spiraling thoughts of three hours to Boston, three hours until youâre either one step closer to killing Homelander or dead in the water with such skill that youâre starting to wonder if heâs studied for this. If Benâs trained himself to keep your head clear, and your smile on your face instead of fading into the haunting thoughts of soon. Soon you may have to fight-
âRyan told me you got him a bunch of fucking books.â
You nod, and your smile spreads a little wider, a little more naturally. âI did. He read all of Butcherâs.â
âButcher reads?â
âAllegedly, yes.â
Ben snorts. âThat pussy doesnât have the damn patience-â
âBenjamin, my love, you donât have the patience. You have the attention span of a toddler.â
âShut the fuck up,â he grumbles, but every inch of annoyance on his face is fake, because you can feel all his affection and care in your body. Warm and innate and permanent. âI am not a toddler-â
âNo,â you hum, giving him a sweet, teasing smile. âBut you are a massive fucking man baby. My massive fucking man baby, who I love very much and takes very good care of me.â
He rolls his eyes, and the glow moves up his spine. âBrat.â
âCunt. Do you think Ryanâs okay?â
Benâs frown deepens. âOf course heâs okay, heâs got us. The kid has finally started to fly and laser at the same time, and youâre real fucking kind to him when he gets all sad about his pussy-fuck father-âÂ
âI mean with everyone away.â You cut Ben off with a sigh, even as his words make the world around you soft and vivid and lined with a light you never want to lose. âThis is all hands, and heâs all by himself-â
âHeâs strong.â Ben squeezes his hand in yours, voice firm and everything in him made of an unwavering, concrete care. âHeâs a smart kid, whoâs gotten through a fuck ton more than one day alone. Weâll be home soon, and you can fuss all over him-â
âI do not fuss-â
Ben chuckles, shaking his head as a flash of amusement runs between your bodies. âYou fuss all the damn time. Christ, you fuss over me,â he grins down at you as he says your name, and it makes everything in you a little electric. âBut youâre a fuck ton meaner about it.â
âWell Ryanâs nicer to me,â you stick your tongue out at him. âAnd youâre an asshole.â
âBut you still fucking fuss.â Ben winks at you, pulling your hand up to kiss your knuckles. âBecause you love me.â
âI do love you,â you mutter. âBut I donât fuss. You fuss.â
âThe fuck I do-â
âYou always make me eat.â You lean forwards, kissing his jaw. âAnd you make sure Ryanâs doing well in school, And you never let us push ourselves, and youâre always making sure weâre okay, and you love us-â
âWhatever.â Ben grumbles, glaring at the lamp-lit road, and you giggle.
âGrumpy-â
âShut the fuck up.â He rolls his eyes, frown twitching as you lean into his side. âYouâre lucky I love you-â
âI know.â You turn your face to nuzzle into his shoulder, ensuring that every breath is Ben. Pine and salt and gunpowder and Ben. âI really am.â
The glow returns in a full, brutal force, and itâs like a sedative. The world starts to blur in a way that you donât want to hide or run from, and Ben is muttering low words that you canât hear but still feel in your body. Soothing your head and easing you into a molten warmth thatâs just too good to fight. Your eyes start to droop, and just before everything turns into a dark, simple daze of sleep, you feel a big, rough, warm hand brush hair from your face, and rumble of words that you donât fully understand but, still make you know that everything is right here. That voice is Benâsâeverything around you is Benâand he loves you, and nothing bad can really happen as long as thatâs true.
And it will always be true, and that knowledge pulls you all the way under, into dreams of sunlight and green and something perfect thatâs just out of reach, but still yours. Still everything, and made of love so strong you feel it a little beyond your body.
Itâs all you feel until a finger you recognize as everything good brushes over your lip, and you drag your eyes open to find Ben watching you. His gaze is attentive and devout, and when you smile at him everything becomes ardor and a zealous wrath of love in your chest. Feral and watchful and protective, in a perfect time with the song in your head of Ben. The night is dark, but you can still see light everywhere because Ben.
You know youâve arrivedâthere are horns blaring in the distance, and you can smell the pungent, briny ocean of the Boston docksâbut youâre still breathing without thought because Ben is here, and you can fucking do this.
Youâre okay.
Iâm okay. You take a heavy breath, grounding yourself in Benâs solid, strong body against yoursâfingers holding your chin with a firm, gentle touch, an arm wrapped over your shoulders with a hand rubbing patterns in your skinâand his determined, concrete feeling of care. Are we ready?
Whenever you are.
You nod, peeling yourself away from where youâd slump and molded into Benâs hold, but lean back to give him one, soft kiss on the cheek. I love you.
I love you too, he mutters in your head, tangling at hand in your hair and gently moving your mouth to his. Weâve fucking got this.
You hum into Benâs kiss, holding his face between your hand, keeping his brow against yours when you separate for breath. Weâve got this.Â
Ben had parked right next to the limo, so you shed your jacket and sunglasses before climbing out, replacing them with a black hoodie that will hopefully lend you some stealth, and follow Ben out of the car.
When you knock of the driverâs window, it rolls down to reveal a scowling Butcher, his arm hanging out the window as he looks over you and Ben with contempt.
âItâs nine fucking thirty.â
âCongratulation on being able to read a clock, asscuck-â
âWe said eight forty-five.â Butcher cut off Ben with a snapping hiss âYou horny fuckin twats are late. Again.â
âThese roads are fucking dogshit.â Ben shrugs, holding Butcherâs glare with an indifference. âLet us in the damn limo so we can get this over with.â
Butcher lets out a huff of annoyance, stands out of the driverâs seat, opens the back doors, and lets you and Ben climb in before following and locking the door behind him.
âYouâre late-â
âSomeone wouldnât let me drive,â you give MM an apologetic look as Ben pulls you half onto his lap. âWeâd have been here two hours early if he did-â
âI donât let you drive,â Ben drawls. âBecause youâre a fucking criminal behind the wheel.â
âNo, Iâm not-â
âYou are, Sunshine. Christ, Hughie and Kimiko have seen it,â Ben turns to them, brows raised. âSheâs a fucking menace when she drives, isnât she.â
Kimiko just signs I donât care, itâs fun, but Hughieâs eyes widen, his facing turning red.
âI, um, Iâve only seen it once, and it was kind of an intense day-â Hughieâs stutters are cut off by Annie, placing a hand on his shoulder and glaring at Ben.
âDonât do that to him, Ben. Heâll have a panic attack about picking a side and weâll have to wait until he calms down.â
Everyone freezes, and you know itâs not just you that heard it.
âDid you,â MM clears his throat, eyes narrowing at Annie with a frown. âYou called him-â
âCâmon guys.â Annie gives a flat look around the dead quiet limo. âI mean, heâs clearly here for the long term, and itâs been getting weird to call him Soldier Boy when I talk to you,â Annie nods in your direction, saying your name with a bored tone. âAbout how much you love him and how good his dick is.â
Your whole face flushes as Butcher lets out a sputtering cough, Frenchie gives Ben a nod of respect, and MMâs gape almost unhinges his jaw.
Ben himself isnât at all helpful, kissing the top of your head and wrapped in a smug, blazing feeling of energy thatâwhen you lean back to glare at himâmakes him look almost boyish. Heâs looking down at you, nothing but want and love and adoration in his eyes, and you almost whimper at how effectively heâs pulling you apart under his gaze. He looks so happyâeven with the mission only one strict reminder to remain on track awayâand nobodyâs but Ben has ever looked at you like that before. Like heâs proud just to be at your side, as if youâve given him something just by loving him. You think you have, because his grin is so wide and handsome and cocky, and his words in you are so certain you can feel it settle in your veins and nerves.
Christ, you must really love me if youâve got Annie calling me my damn name-
Fuck you, Benjamin-
You want to. You fucking love me. He squeezes his arms around you, eyes dancing with cocky, comfortable light. You really damn love me.
You know I love you, you asshole. Shut up.Â
No. Iâm allowed to brag about my woman loving me as much as I goddamn want-
MM let out a long, half-groaning sigh, shaking his head and rubbing his jaw. âYou know what, we donât got the time for this. Letâs do this shit, and then Soldier Boy can be Ben to you motherfuckers all he wants, as long as I never have to hear about his dick again. Hughie-â
âThe warehouse should be clear, I didnât see anyone on their cams.â Hughie glances at Annie, whoâd dropped her hand from his shoulder to rest over his own. âAnnie, can you-â
âI can fry them.â Annie frowns into the air. âBut I donât know if Iâll be able to only fry the cams, I might take out the lights too-â
âWe got that fuckin covered, Starlight, donât worry your blonde little head.â Butcher nods to Frenchie, who pulls a bag out from under his seat.
âI have made them solar powered,â Frenchie pulls a flashlight, displaying it for the whole team to see. âAnd left them in the sun for several hours. Should we be plunged into the darkness,â he makes a dramatic gesture, grinning around the limo. âThere will be light.â
Annie leans backward with a relieved expression, and you tap your fingers on Benâs forearm as you speak.
âWe all know what weâre looking for?â
MM nods. âIf those papers were up to date, six to seven crates label RRD.â
âRed River Donations,â Butcher mutters. âBloody cunts not even tryin to hide it.â
You swallow, pushing on. âAnd the plan? Everyone got that?â
âIn and out, Madame.â Frenchie says your name with a solemn tone, chest puffed. âNo messes, no trail, no fuckery.â
âNo fuckery.â You nod, chewing on your cheek until you taste metal. âNo evidence. Annie, if you can, try to fry out a few of the other warehouses, so it looks like a circuit blew. And no matter what, weâre just getting the V.â You give Butcher a firm glare. âGot it?â
âIâm all fuckin in, Love.â Butcher gives you a sarcasticâbut not crude or mockingâgrin. âLike Frenchie said, in and out, and all you cunts can be home to jerk each other off by midnight.â
You flip him off, and look back to the rest of the group. âMM, youâve got-â
âGroupings, after we all get armed. Look alive motherfuckers, here we go.â
âHere we go.â You echo, looking around this limo with a tight, close-lipped smile that hurts your face. âMake it quick, stick together, and no fuckery.â
Everyone makes various sounds of agreement, shuffling out of the limo in silence. Ben keeps his arm around you as you separate from the groupâweapons being passed out and Butcher lecturing Hughie about how to drive a limo, and to not throw a fuckin raver while weâre gone, Ladâso you lean into his body, forcing your breathing to stay in time with his.
Iâm sticking with you, Ben grunts, popping Butcherâs trunk to grab his guns and shield. And if MM tries to pair me off with someone else-Â
He wonât. Youâre stuck with me, Pretty Boy. Get used to it. You watch Benâs stoic expression carefully, reaching up a hand to trace over the deep lines on his face. When he looks down at youâall his concern and care like armor over your skinâsomething softens in his eyes.
Good. Ben leans down, kissing the space between your eyes. I like being stuck with you. Even when youâre a fucking brat.
I like being stuck with you too, cunt. You wrap your arms around torso, burying your head in his chest and just breathing in Ben. Pine and gunpowder and Ben. Strong and certain and yours, holding you until you rest your chin on his chest, studying his narrowed, concerned frown you can feel all over your skin and like lead in your heart. If thereâs no V-
There will be. His voice is almost stern grunt in your head, and his brow drops to yours. Weâve fucking got this.
You nod, and stay hereâwith Benâuntil itâs not an option anymore. Until holding his face between your hands and sharing his breath doesnât fully stop your brain and heart from racing, but solidifies the instinct of Ben just a little bit more. Itâs already carved into you, already permanent, but it keeps growing stronger. Keeps finding its way into deeper parts of you that might have just not existed before, but are now pulling open for Ben to have. And finding a new place for Ben to be a part of youâthis one somewhere across your skin, bitten by the chill of ocean wind and beginning to come down, down, down into something green and warmâwill have to be enough.
You and Ben return to the groupâone of his arms over your shoulders, and the other holding his shield at his sideâand you take in how everyone but seemingly you and Annie is armed. Even Hughie has a gun, even if he keeps glancing at it like it might try to run away from him. But you donât think Annie knows how to shoot, and you donât need a gun. The fire is all yours under your skin, and Benâs at your side, so youâll be fine. The night air is wired and suffocating, and every distant city noise sets off a cold flare in your body, but youâll be fine.
âWeâre splitting in half,â MM grunts. âTwo supes per team, Hughie holding down the fort. Iâve got Annie, Kimiko, and Frenchie.â MM says your name with a short nod, and something lights up over your bones when you realize youâre in charge of group two. âIs taking Soldier Boy and Butcher. And if anyone tries to fight me on this shit, Iâll shoot them, so donât fucking test me.â
Butcher glowers, slowly closing his mouth with an eye roll, and you look up at the blue-tinted sky, not a star in sight.
âAnnie, can you-â
The words barely leave your mouth before the world starts to fry, crackling and sparking around you. For a second, everything is blinding light, scorching into your eyes and lingering for a painful second before youâre able to see the dark harbor and warehouse, visible in the distant lights of the city and sky.
You got lucky. Your eyes healed within half a second, but most everyone else is still rubbing and blinking, and Annieâs looking around the half-blinded group with a guilty expression.
âOh, shit, Iâm so sorry guys-âÂ
âTheyâll be fine,â Ben snaps, face slightly scrunched as his own eyes recover. âA little light isnât going to goddamn kill the pussies, Annie, donât fucking whine.â
Annie nods slowly with a little less shame in her eyes, Kimiko places a reassuring hand on her arm, and you bump Benâs shoulder with yours.
That was very sweet of you, Benjamin, my love-
Shut the fuck up. Ben grumbles your name between your heads, raising you a little off the ground as he kisses the side of your head. Feeling guilty is only going to slow us down-
You twist your head, moving Benâs mouth to yours for a simple, easy, gentle kiss. I know. But you still made her feel better. So thank you.
He just gruntsâdeepening the kiss until his tongue is tracing over your teeth and his hand his kneading at your skinâand you let out a soft, airy sigh. You can fucking do this, and then your whole life will get to be moments like this. Where Benâs glaring at you, but you know he doesnât mean it because you can feel him wrathful and fond and rough, rolling around in your chest and humming with an affection and love thatâs more real and tangible than anything else in the world.
You can do this.
Kimiko and Ben open the doors of the warehouseâblackened and filled with cold, drafting windsâas Frenchie passes out the flashlights and Butcher stomps to your side, a scowl on his face you can feel searing into you.
âI got somethin you need to answer, Love.â He mutters, and you drag your gaze from Ben to meet his eyes.
âButcher, we donât have time-â
âEdgar.â He hisses, glare narrowed and firm. âYou and the simpin cunt better have gotten some answers for me-â
You give Butcher an amused look. âDid you just say simping-â
âLove, Iâll call that puppy dog of yours whatever the bloody hell I want. Tell me what Edgar told you.â
Ben-
I know. I can hear. What the fuck is a simping-
Iâll tell you later. Iâm going to tell Butcher about the Cornucopia, but not the extra V. I need you to back me up on what-
I always back you up, Sunshine, donât be fucking stupid.
Your face flushes slightly as you return your attention to Butcher, and you have to fight the small smile tugging at your lips from how annoyed Ben sounded at the very idea that heâd ever stand against you.
âWeâve got to move,â you tell Butcher, flexing your fingers slightly. âIâll tell you while we look.â
Butcherâs jaw twitches, but he nods. âFine. Letâs get this shit over and fucked out.â
Ben returns to youâand now Butcher, both men glaring at each other like if they stop their dicks will fall offâand you look over to MMâs team with a tense, grim smile.
âIf you find it first, get it back to Hughie and have Annie send out a signal. If we get it first, Iâll send the signal. Annie-âÂ
âLong flash for regrouping, short for,â Annie swallows. âEmergencies.â
âOkay, good.â You look into the seemingly infinite darkness of the warehouse, chewing on your lower lip as you speak. âWeâll take left, you guys take right. No wandering, and donât be stupid.â
MM nods. âGood luck, motherfuckers. See you on the other side.â
They go in first, Annieâs hand lit up and everyone else holding guns and flashlights. For a second the daunting, long shelves and halls of the warehouse are illuminated, and when theyâre cast in shadows that fade back to pitch black once more, you light a small fire in your palm and take a long breath.
âShelf by shelf.â You donât bother to look at Ben or Butcher as you speak, because Ben always listens and Butcherâs a dick, but not an idiot. âTry and be subtle, and keep each otherâs backs. Ready?â
You hear two low grunts, and roll your eyes.
âCan I get a verbal affirmation, testosterone representatives?â
âStop wastin time, Love, and just bloody go-â
âDonât fucking talk to her like that.â Ben sneers, and you turn to glare at them both.
âRules.â You snap, eyes narrowing and the fire in your hand growing a little brighter, feeling a little more inlaid and pure in your body. âBenjamin, youâre the love of my life and I adore you, but if you spend the whole time pissing off Butcher you lose blowjob privileges for a month, and youâre sleeping on the couch tonight.â
âIn the doghouse Gov, tough fuckin luck-â
âAnd you.â You turn your glare to Butcher, and he falls silent with eyes wider than youâve seen them before. âIf you antagonize him, Iâll kill you myself. Got it?â
You get a crude, huffed agreement from Butcher and take it, turning back to the warehouse.
âLetâs do this.â
For the first five rows, you search in silence. Ben and Butcher keep their guns raisedâthe former directly at your side and the latter a pace behindâand you realize that Butcherâs shock and compliance hadnât just been from your words. Your fingertips are wrapped in a white flame that casts long shadows on the floors and walls when you move, and when you turn to look at Ben around the end of shelf four, heâs watching you with an awe.
Fucking Christ, Sunshine.
You frown at him. What?
Your eyes. Theyâre burning.
They donât feel like theyâre burning. Your vision is clear, and your fire is controlled like an extended muscle as the ghost-like flames light the warehouse, so you shake your head slightly. No, theyâre not-
The fuck theyâre not. âButcher.â Ben grunts, his eyes still on yours, hitting something deep in your body and unraveling it with a care you feel along your spine. âWhat do her eyes look like.â
Butcher glances at you and scoffs. âThe fuck am I supposed to say, fire? She got fire-eyes?â
Ben gives you a pointed, smug look, and you wrinkle your nose at him. âShut up.â
âLooks hot.â Ben shrugs, winking at you. âI wouldnât be mad if you broke that out later.â He pauses, then adds. âFor sex.â
You snort. âYeah, I got that part by myself, Pretty Boy-â
âCan you twats not eye-fuck each other right in front of me?â Butcher sneers, poking at a crate with his gun, glaring at it like the box is personally responsible for you and Ben. âI ainât a prude, but itâs bloody disgusting, keep it in your fuckin brain connection shit-â
âThe Benâoâphone.â You nod, not bothering to fight your smile at Benâs adorable, grumpy glare.
âWe agreed not to fucking call it that-â
âI didnât agree to anything, Benjamin, my love. And you havenât pitched anything else-â
âIâm not pitching fucking shit, but Iâll eat Butcherâs ass before I call it that-âÂ
âCome near my ass, Gov, and Iâll fuckin shoot you.â Butcher grunts, his glare turning back to you. âAnd you still need to get real bloody specific about Edgar-â
âThe debt is cleared.â You cut Butcher off with short, well-chosen words. âEdgar is, hopefully, not our issue anymore.â
âAnd the Cornucopia-â
âHe,â you sigh, bracing yourself for Butcherâs reaction. âHe gave it to me.â
Butcher freezes, looking you up and down with a taut, deep glare. âThe fuck are you talkin about. The bloody tits were the keys ever for-â
âA villa in Rome.â Your fingers start to tap on nothing, and you keep your voice neutral and even as you continue. âIt was Fredrick Voughtâs, then Edgarâs, and now, apparently, itâs mine.â
âIn Rome.â Butcher repeats, shaking his head slightly. âDr. Vought had a villa in Rome and Edgar is just handin it to you? Nah, Love, that ainât trackin-â
âWell, itâs the truth.â You snap. âI donât understand it either, but itâs all weâve got to go on. Now can we please keep moving-â
Suddenly, Ben goes rigid. Standing slightly taller, looking around the shelves with an almost feral attention you can feel raging in your chest, wrapping over your lungs.
Ben-
You hear the click of Benâs gun, and he takes one stride to stand in front of you, the barrel pointed in the direction of the warehouse entrance. Stay quiet.
Benjamin, whatâs-
âThe fuckin hell is wrong with you-â
Ben cuts Butcher off with a hiss. âShut the fuck up, you pussy. Weâre not alone.â
Your blood goes cold, a chill hitting your body that makes everything suddenly far too taut and electric around you. âBen,â you whisper. âHow many.â
âOne.â He grunts, taking a half-step back so he can glance at you. His jaw is clenched, voice low. âFast heart. Not Homelander.â
The world stops blurring, but youâre still on edge. Nobody should know youâre here, and if a single person catches you, this whole thing could blow. âWho-â
âWilliam!â A cool, angry voice echoes through the warehouse. âI know you and the Boys are here. Are you a fucking idiot?â
All three of you become rooted in place as you recognize the owner of the shout, sharing wide-eyed expression of shock.
âWhat the fuck is Mallory doing here,â you whisper, words pushed through your teeth. âHow did she even know-â
âThis is remarkably risky and stupid, even for you dumbasses.â Mallory continues yelling, and you see Benâs grip on the gun become white. âStealing government property is a felony, and I canât let you-â
Butcher hisses your name, nodding to your still burning fingers. âYou have to turn the nightlight off, right fuckin now-â
You nod, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to pull the fire back under your skin, but it keeps itching and scraping its way back out as Malloryâs words ring through the warehouse.
âI know youâre here, and unless you want to fucking abandon Campbell for me to arrest-â
âHughie!â Thatâs Annieâs voice, and itâs frantic, in a sizzling time with the wires above your head. âMallory, this isnât his fault-â
âI donât care whose fault it is, I need you all to come out so we can talk like adults and not petulant children!â
You feel Benâs body press slightly into yours, and open your eyes to see him watching you. Theyâre moving. Whatâs our play.
I donât know. You shake your head, your nails digging into your skin as you try to pull the fire back down. Ben, how did she know weâre here. Who else-
Someoneâs calling your name, and the fire flares up your arm. Itâs a nervous, softer voice, and itâs Ryanâs.
Your name echoes around you once more, and then, âBen? Butcher? Aunt Grace said youâre in trouble, I want to help-â
You start running to the entrance of the warehouse, the ringing in your ears only just quiet enough to still hear Ben and Butcher barely steps behind you.
âRyan!â Youâre half-screaming, not caring that Mallory can hear you. âWhere are you?!â
Ben overtakes you in a second, his voice in your head urgent and low. Front entrance-
You donât bother to listen to the rest, breaking into a full-on sprint until you can see the break of the skyline, dark over the ocean, and seven silhouettes in the door. You skid to a stopâBen catching your arm to prevent a stumbling fallâand take in MM, Annie, Kimiko, and Frenchie in tight stances off to the side, Hughie with a sheepish, anxious expression trying to slowly inch closer to Annie, Ryan a pace outside the warehouse, and Mallory at his side, gun raised and aimed right at your head.
âDonât move,â Mallory warns, the gun clicking. âI will shoot.â
You feel Benâs hand tighten on your arm to an almost bruising grip, his own wrath moving the earth under your feet, but your fury is hotter and brighter, zealous and unforgiving as you narrow your eyes at Mallory.
âWhat the fuck did you do,â you hiss, flattening a palm on Benâs chest in a silent signal not to move. âDid you bring Ryan-â
Mallory scoffs. âOf course I didnât bring Ryan, he must have followed me-â
âI wanted to help,â Ryan whispers, his whole face pale, his body curling into itself slightly. âIâm getting stronger, I can help-â
âRyan, this ainât something for you to do.â Butcher grunts, taking one, slow step closer to the entrance. âAnd you, Grace, are you out of your bloody mind? Tellin the kid weâre in danger just to fuckin one-up us-â
âI am doing my job.â Mallory snaps, re-aiming the gun at Butcher. âYou are disobeying direct orders from the president-â
âThat order was wrong, Grace.â MM mutters. âAnd you know it-â
Mallory sighs. âThis isnât the time for that, Marvin. We canât afford to lose sight of order right now, and you are still CIA employees-â
âWeâre not.â Ben grunts, rising to his full height as he glowers at Mallory. âYou donât fucking pay us. We can do whatever to goddamn hell we to get the job done-â
âSoldier Boy,â Mallory warns. âIâd advise you remember the conditions of your deal-â
Ben snorts, raising his own gun. âFuck your deal. Ryan, get inside.â
âRyan, donât move.â Mallory holds Benâs glare, her gun moving to not him, but you. âYouâre all going to come peacefully, or Iâll shoot-â
Itâs your turn to laugh. A dry cackle that you hate the sound of, because itâs fueled by something hateful and cruel. âGo ahead. Iâll live and you have to know that heâll,â you tilt your head to Ben. âKill you. Immediately.â
âYouâre not the type to make threats,â Mallory says your name, even as her gaze flits to Ben. âAnd you overestimate your importance to this operation-â
âDo I?â You shrug. âI donât think I do. I think youâd be fucked without me. Without Ben. Ryan,â you look past Mallory, your heart straining and turning over at the pure fear on Ryanâs face. âPlease come here, itâs not safe to stay outside right now, this is dangerous-â
âHeâs a supe.â Mallory snaps, and Ryan starts to lean forward, like he wants to run but canât. âHeâll be fine-â
âHe shouldnât have to be.â You stretch out a hand to Ryan, the fire starting to dim. âRyan, I know you want to help, but this isnât the place. Weâre not in danger now, but we canât risk lingering here. Please-â
Ryan takes a tentative step forward, and Malloryâs face twists into a sneer in your direction.
âYou are not his guardian,â she says your name, taking a side-step to block Ryanâs path. âNeither you nor Solider Boy have any claim to him-â
âHeâs my fucking grandson-â
Mallory cutâs Ben off with a scoff. âWho you tried to kill-â
âYou ainât better, Grace.â Butcher mutters, and you realize his own gun has risen back up, aimed right a Malloryâs chest. âYouâd use the kid as a fuckin weapon against his psycho cunt father-â
âHomelander?â Ryan whispers, watching Mallory with a slack, almost tragic expression. âYou want me to, to fight my dad-â
âYouâre stronger,â Mallory snaps, her voice flat, words spoken as if theyâre inherent. As if itâs obvious that Ryan must fight Homelander. âYouâd kill him, and we wouldnât have to waste time with the V-â
âBut the V would work, right? Ben said it would work-â
âSoldier Boy,â Mallory shoots Ben a daggered glare. âHas lost sight of the mission. You are our best bet, Ryan, as the Anomaly has failed to stand against Homelander.â
Annieâs mouth falls open, and you feel relief flash through you as you realize Hughie has made it back to her side. âItâs not her fucking job to fight her rapist, Mallory-â
âIf it isnât,â Malloryâs gaze returns to you, and you feel something start to bubble over between your joint and in your muscles. âThen the responsibility falls to Ryan.â
âI, I donât want to fight him.â Ryan stutters. âIâm sorry, I donât, I know what heâs done, but I canât-â
âYou wonât.â Ben snaps, jerking his head in your direction. âGo to her, Ryan.â Thereâs a pause, long and heavy in your lungs, and then Ben grunts, âplease,â and it dissipates as Ryan starts to move.
âRyan-â
âI donât want to fight, Aunt Grace,â Ryan mumbles, walking slowly past Mallory. âI just want to help, without anyone else getting, getting hurt because of me.â
Ryan reaches your side, and the flames waver almost instantly into smoke as he wraps a hand around your arm, clinging to you like he might drift away if he doesnât. Almost on instinct you pull him a little closer, wrapping him in a hug as Ben shifts his body to fully block you and Ryan from Malloryâs gaze.
âSoldier Boy, watch yourself. I will not hesitate to return you to the box.â
Your hands tense slightly on Ryanâs head, and you try to keep your breathing steady for his sake as you hear Benâs drums, watch the muscles of his back tense at the words.
âWalk away, Grace.â MM grunts, and from the corner of your eye you see his gun raise as well, and hear Malloryâs noise of disbelief. âWeâre going to take the V, take Ryan, and leave. Youâll see us again when the dust settles, but Iâd advise you take a leave of absence right fucking now.â
âMarvin, have you forgotten that this asshole killed your family-â
âNo.â MMâs words are certain, resolved and flat. âI havenât. But Iâm practicing some motherfucking forgiveness, and no matter what Iâm not letting you put the kid in the line of fire. Last warning. Leave.â
Thereâs sounds of shifting, and when you glance around you realize that everyone has raised their weapons. All aimed at Mallory, all paired with solemn, grave expressions as they move like a wall in front of you and Ryan. At Benâs side.
Andâbetween the space of Ben and Butcherâs bodiesâyou see Mallory lower her gun with a thin lipped, cold glare.Â
And you smell coconut.
And something is wrong.
Ben-
You hear him first. Behind you, with stiff steps and humming an off-key, patriotic tune. And when you whirl aroundâkeeping Ryan steady against your body, his face hidden from full viewâyour veins bite with frost, and something broken wails and twists in your gut.
âWell, well, well.â Homelanderâs smiling is wide, all white teeth, made of a rage thatâs in every tense muscle on his face, and thereâs a glint of something like poison in his eyes. âWhat a lovely coincidence to run into all you here!â His eyes scan over your group, and you donât have to look back to know theyâve all frozen. You can feel Benâs eyes looking between you and Homelander, hear the drums drawing closer as that part of him inside you begins to riot and bang on your ribcage.
Ben grunts your name in your head, and you realize youâve started to lean back. Closer to him, further from Homelander. You need to get behind me right fucking now-
I canât. Your breathing is forced, in and out of your body as you try to stifle the horrible, artificial, sickly smell of Homelander. Try to pretend heâs not close enough that you can see the slight wrinkles on his suit. If I move, heâll move.
âIt really is all of you, isnât it?â Homelander sounds delighted, and you feel sick. Cold and vile, suffocating and unable to draw in any new air. âThe whole gang is here! Oh, this is too good, we can be done in ten minutes tops!â
âHow the fuck did you get here, Homelander.â Annie hisses. âHow did you find us-â
âI followed Ryan, of course.â Homelanderâs turns back to you, his smile growing manic, and you hold Ryan a little closer. âGood flying, son, but letâs work on getting a little higher up in the air next time, huh? Donât want satellites to track you again.â
He laughsâcontinuing to taunt Annie with words you donât hearâand Ryan looks up at you with a panic in his eyes you feel scratching at your skin and heart, making everything too sharp and bright, filling the world with a terror that lives in Ryanâs chest.
âI didnât mean to,â Ryan whispers your name, and his voice pleading. âI didnât mean to, I promise, I just wanted to help-â
âI know you did.â You run a hand over his brow, forcing your voice to be soothing as your eyes darting between every rise and fall of Homelanderâs chest and Ryanâs pallid features. âItâs okay. Iâm not mad.â
âI, Iâm sorry-â
âI know.â You repeat, swallowing down a bile in your throat thatâs made of either Ryanâs fear or yours. Itâs hard to really tell the difference. âYouâre going to be okay, Ryan, I promise.â
There is no guarantee you can keep that promise. But you will do everything in your fucking power to make sure Ryan gets out of this, and you know Benâalive inside you, alert and wrathful behind youâwill do the same.
Then Homelander says your name, you have to meet his eyes. You have to keep Ryan against you, and try not to just scream as blue, cold, hateful and evil eyes carve into your head, violating and invasive and wrong.
âThank you, honey, for getting Ryan for me. Come here. Now.â
âI,â you take a long breath, and a shaking half step back. âNo. Youâre not touching him.â
âFine, you can hold him.â Homelander rolls his eyes, extending a red-gloved hand. âI mean, Iâm glad youâre finally getting into that mother bond shit, but heâs still my son. Iâll want him back eventually, and weâll get you another one once this is all just a funny story to tell our it.â
âNo.â Your voice is a little louder this time, and the cracks over your head and heart are starting to leak something like venom into your teeth, spitting with every word. âYouâre not touching either of us. Ever.â
Homelanderâs eyes narrow. âAre you still throwing this temper tantrum? I got it the first time,â he snaps your name, and you can feel Ben roar inside of you. âIâll let you outside more, and you can do, letâs call it 50% less TV appearances. But I canât kill these fucking idiots until youâre over here, and this is a family affair, so letâs get this over with and weâll talk about it more at home-â
âThey ainât goin anywhere with you, cunt.â Butcher snaps, and you see his move forward in your periphery. âAnd you donât got a family. Youâre just a sorry, lonely fuckin murderer who donât got no one.â
Homelanderâs jaw twitches. âThatâs cruel William. And wrong.I have my son, with your lovely wife, may she rest in peace, and my fiancĂ©e and I-â
âShe is not your fucking fiancĂ©e,â Ben growls, and you can feel him move a little closer. âSheâs not your anything.â
âWhat, do you think sheâs yours, Soldier Boy?â Homelander sneers. âSheâs using you to get back at me! Sheâs a lying, manipulative bitch-â
âShut your pussy fucking mouth.â Heâs another step closer, and you risk another inch back. âDonât ever fucking speak about my wi-â
âYour what.â Homelander clicks his tongue, looking between you and Ben with disgust. âYour whore? Did she turn around spread her fucking legs for you, again? Are you so pathetic that youâd pick up your sonâs scrappy seconds-â
âI am not yours.â You whisper, leaning back a little further, until you can feel the warmth from Benâs body. Kindling something inside you that makes you raise your chin, holding Homelanderâs glare. âAnd Ben isnât pathetic. At the very least, heâs never had to make me do anything.â
Homelanderâs eyes flash, his neck flexing spits his words through teeth. âThis isnât cute anymore,â he sneers your name, and you have to force a long breath so that smoke doesnât curl from your hands. âWeâre going home, and all will be forgiven. Fucking my father, being weak and letting these rats manipulate you, every childish stunt youâve pulled to try and hurt me when I love you. It will all be behind us, if you come home now.â
âNo-â
He shouts your name, and you flinch. âI have.â Homelanderâs head jerks, and he lets out a long, harsh exhale. âI have done everything right for you. I have loved you, turned you into a god, ensured that our marriage will be fruitful by asking your mother for fucking permission to marry you! We could be fucking Olympians. I could be a king, and you could be my queen, and we could fill the fucking world with children like Ryan! Stronger! You could be Madonna, the world will remember and worship you for a million years-â
âTheyâll remember me for this.â You whisper, making sure your grip on Ryan is firm, your body wrapped over his. When you run, you arenât going to drop him. âFor killing you.â
âWell,â Homelanderâs mouth draws into a sour, scoffing line. âIf thatâs what this is about, here you go.â
Homelanderâs eyes glow red, and you realize whatâs going to happen a second before it does. Your mouth falls openâmaybe to bargain, maybe to beg, maybe to screamâjust as Homelander turns, and lasers right through the warehouse. Shelves crashing down, boxes breaking open, a fire setting off deep, deep in the falling building and starting to spread before Homelanderâs even moved back to face you.
âThere.â He spreads his arms wide, half-gesturing to the wreckage behind him. âNo more V. No killing me. Now stop playing these childish, annoying fucking games and come here.â
Youâre frozen. You can feel Ben rolling and bellowing inside you, just a slight falling movement away from you crashing into him, and when you chance a look at the rest of your teamâtheir faces washed in the dancing shadows and lights of the fireâtheyâre like statues. Ryan is still clinging to you, his fear everywhere in your body, his breathing shallow and rushed, and you donât know what to do. Everything is moving too slowly around you to process, and thereâs only fire thatâs not cleansing but bloody, air thatâs choked in artificial coconut, and earth and pavement cracking under your feet as the warehouse start to fall.
Then you hear the soft click of a gun, and vaguely register Mallory, pushing forward to Homelander, emptying her rounds into his chest. Bullets that fall to the floor with a rattling sound of metal, off-beat with the drums drawing closer to Ben, off-key with the ringing in your ears, and Homelanderâs eyes glow red once more.
You feel something thatâs heatedâbut foul and sticky and foreignâon your skin, Homelanderâs eyes return to blue once more, and everything speeds back up.
Everyone is shouting around you. Plans are being made to get out, to find a way to survive this, but youâre not listening. Ben is grabbing you from behind, turning to so his body blocks you from Homelanderâs view, and grabbing your chin with his free hand.
Run. Get Ryan the fuck out and run.
Ben-
Iâll find you, Iâll always fucking find you. You feel something rotten and aching start to cover his heart, but itâs not as strong as his wrath. As the hot, resolved, concrete fury in Benâs body, thatâs wrapping around you and making the world sharp as he searches your face with an almost desperate gaze. I swear Iâll find you, Sunshine, but you need to fucking run-
You lean forward, this kiss is feral. Savage and hopeful and made of pure, raw love. Heâs everything, and youâre making sure he feels it. I love you, Benjamin.
I love you too. Ben grunts your name, running his thumb over your cheekbone with a soft, reverent touch. Run.
You nod, and donât spare more than a glance at the scene before youâMalloryâs body split open on the pavement, Ben, Annie, Kimiko, and Butcher fighting Homelander as Frenchie, MM, and Hughie mostly just dodge and try to land blows where they canâbefore you take Ryan and go.
You hear Homelander roar your name behind you, and you donât look back. There are flashes of light and heat ripping through the sky, and bangs and clatters as the warehouse begins to fully cave in, but you just keep fucking moving.
Itâs useless to go for the limoâyou hear it implode only moments after you pass itâso you pull Ryan deeper into the harbor, past more and more warehouses, trying not to drag him but unable to afford a single broken pace. Hiding is your best bet. Ryanâs shaking in your arms, sobbing and half-falling as you pull him along. Everything in his is made of pure, crippling fear that takes every single fiber of your will to push through, and youâre not faring much better. When you crumble against the wall of a warehouse that hides you in shadows and the crashing sound of the ocean, it starts to catch up with you.
How everything is cold, and you canât fucking breathe. Everything is crashing and shattering around you, and itâs constricting over your lungs, plunging you into a white-hot pain that would be numbing if it didnât feel like something was bruising and beating and searing into your skin. Itâs holding you awake by your throat, and itâs made of wrong. Ben is in danger, and the drums keep falling in and out of time, and everything is wrong. Everything is thrashing and pulling and brutal inside you, trying to pull you back to Ben, but you have to stay here.
You have to stay here. With Ryan. Itâs awful and you hate it, but you canât leave Ryan. Another blow leaves an aching, denting pain on your skin like a phantom is trying to beat you into the ground, but you have to stay here, with Ryan.
He gasps your name, and you try to curl over him a little more. You canât flinch when something hits you in your gut, or shout in pain as a foreign burn scratches over your skin. You have to keep a quiet as you can, and stay with Ryan.
âI didnât mean to,â his words are choked, and his hold on your body might crack your bones. âI, I didnât want anyone to get hurt, I wanted to help-â
You let out a soft shush, running your hand through his hair and over his brow. âI know, I know.â You sigh, and gently pry Ryan off your body. He goes with ease, letting you move him back just enough to meet your eyes. âI know you didnât, Ryan, I know. Itâs okay.â
His eyes are glossy with tears, and you think that it might be blurring your own vision. That, or the devastating pain that crashes through your chestâlike someoneâs hit with you with a bombâor the way you swear you can hear Benâs roar of pain somewhere on the wind.
âIâm sorry-âÂ
âI know.â You donât bother to try and smile at him, but you let your gaze grow soft, forcing down a sick, rotting and mold-like feeling thatâs spreading over your chest. âThis isnât your fault, Ryan. Itâs not.â
âBen-â
âHeâs strong.â You whisper, and he is. Ben is still alight and bloody and unforgiving inside of you, and the drums havenât faded. Theyâre pounding louder and louder in your earsânever quite close enough, but drawing closerâand Ben is strong. âAnd he wonât blame you either. He knows this isnât your fault, he wonât even think to blame you.â
âMy dad-â
âWe wonât let him hurt you.â Thatâs a promise you wonât let yourself break, so you pull Ryan a little closer and let him bury his head in the top of your chest. âI promise, he wonât hurt you.âÂ
âCan you,â Ryan lets out a shaking breath, and his fear doesnât fade, but becomes a little less like a disease. A little easier for you both to breathe through. âCan you keep talking? Itâs, itâs really loud, I donât like it.â
âOf course,â you push down another feeling of pain, pain inflicted on your skin by something evil and crushing against  your head like a boulder. âIs there anything-â
âHow did you meet Ben?â Ryan leans back a little, watching you with nervous, almost child-like eyes. Like maybe this is just a horrible nightmare, and heâs seeking easy comfort so he can go back to sleep. âHeâs told me, but he kind of swore a lot, and he, um, isnât a great storyteller.â
âNo, heâs not.â You huff a soft laugh, and even as something slices over your skin, thereâs a warm feeling humming in your head thatâs always made of love for Ben. âI mean, he can be, but he does swear a lot. Heâs a very vulgar old asshole.â You let out an almost dreamy sigh, and something crashes into the side of your head as you whisper, âI love him so much.â
Ryanâs nod is small, and heâs still watching you with wide eyes. âDid you, was it love at first sight-â
âGod, no.â You keep your fingers combing in even patterns through Ryanâs hair, and raise your voice just a little more when he flinches at another too-close bang. âI thought he was the worst. He was crass and rude and mean, and Iâd only been told that he was an asshole. And he is an asshole. But heâs also caring and honorable and determined and protective and reliable and loyal and rational and good. And he loves us.â The smile that tugs on your face is real, and Ryan returns it tentatively. âHe loves both of us. A lot.â
âWhatâs his favorite color?â
âGreen,â you hum, your smile growing a little bit more. âAnd he hates blue. Thinks itâs a pussy color.â
Ryan nods. âThat, um, I think Iâve heard him say that.â
âYou probably-â you cut yourself off with a slight groan, something beginning to beat into your face. And then itâs gone, and you hear a shout of your name. Itâs from a voice that makes cracks line your vision, and itâs far too close. âRyan, fuck,â you start to pull yourself up, taking Ryan with you as your whole body becomes sore, stinging and throbbing with that strange pain. âWe need to move-â
Something cracks on the ground, wind rushing past you, and you shove Ryan behind your body as the cold sets in. Reducing everything to Homelander. Nine paces away and looking at you with a callous, hateful face.
âItâs over,â he hisses your name, hands locked behind his back as he takes you and Ryan in. âYour precious Ben isnât strong enough to kill me, nobody is strong enough to kill me, now stop being a fucking bitch and come home.â
âNo.â You whisper, and itâs more of prayer. A plea for something to help you, because youâre too weak. Your fire has gone dormant, and your blood has begun to try and climb out of your body, but you canât control anything enough to not hurt Ryan. âPlease, Homelander, please just leave us alone-â
âYouâre fucking mine, I made you both, and no amount of prancing around and showing off your little party trick is going to change that you belong to me. You will always fucking belong to me-â
He takes a step forward, and the air feels like lead. âPlease, just, just leave Ryan-â
âNope.â Another step, and a disapproving tsk. âYouâre both coming home, and weâll get through this as a family. Donât you want a family,â he says your name, and you feel so small. You canât draw yourself up, can barely look him in the fucking eyes because they haunt your worst nightmares with how they butcher and chop and destroy every part of you thatâs yours. âI mean, fuck, you canât think Soldier Boy would give you one? He doesnât care, and heâll probably just, you know,â Homelander slices his hand over his throat with a click of his tongue. âYou when you try to leave him. Heâs not patient like I am. Also, letâs face it, your options are limited. Youâre a fucking bitch, youâre lucky youâre pretty enough for me to put up with all your fucking tricks and manipulation and how annoying you are-â
âIâm sorry, Iâll, Iâll try to be better, just please leave Ryan-â
Another step. Youâre trying to think of a way out, but there isnât one. You donât want to go back, you canât go back, youâll fucking shatter if you go back, and Ben is roaring your name somewhere in the distance but Homelanderâs too strong. Heâs malignant and unkillable and thereâs no way to kill him now. You know Ben is trying to get to you and Ryanâyou can feel him getting closer, alive and nuclear in your bodyâbut he wonât be fast enough. Heâs closerâand you feel something tear open in the crook of your elbowâso you can try to delay Homelander until he gets here, but itâs a slim shot.
Then, just after another step, something kills you before Homelanderâs even at an arms distance. The whole world turnsto agony. Pure fucking pain and horror and anguish and youâre dying. Itâs shredding you apart, and your whole body is wrapped in an unending explosion of pain. Your lungs feel like iron and your bones are burning and your skin is being flayed and ripped open and death would be better than this. Youâre screamingâyou only know because you can hear shrieks of pain that sound like yoursâand your vision is clouding with black spots as your head caves in on itself. Your blood is made of lightning, and every nerve is trying to fly off your body as this feeling pulls you apart, as your organs and muscles are thrown around inside your body, being pried open and filled with something atomic. And then they seal shut and you take a desperate, ragged breath as the world clears.
Youâre leaning against the wall, half slumping onto Ryan, and the pain is still lingering in your body. But Homelander is four steps away, and starting to reach out, and you can hear something good bellowing your name.
You canât moveâeverything moving too slow and too fast all at onceâbut you still see Ben running behind Homelander, to you. Closer, so fucking close, but Homelander turns and sees him and itâs not close enough.
Youâll have to protect Ryan. Homelander is turning back to you with a crude, violent smile, and you know youâll have to protect Ryan. Take every bullet you can so Homelander doesnât ever hurt Ryan. And youâll hold on to Ben, and youâll fight and scrape your way out, figure out a way to get both you and Ryan home.
Ben says your name again, and itâs the worst sound youâve ever heard. Itâs aching and tormented, like he, deep down, knows he wonât reach you on time. Your eyes lock onto his over Homelanderâs shoulder, and try to smile at him. Heâll fight to get you. And youâll always find your way back to him.
Homelander takes a lunging step, and youâre going to fucking survive this, and youâll let the sound of Ben roaring your name haunt you in every dream until you get to hear him say it with a soft, easy devotion instead of a rabid, dreadful, wild desperation.
You keep your eyes on Benâs as Homelander takes that last step, and then the world washes in gold. Everywhere around you, solid in a way that feels so familiar, and warm. Grounding you back in your head, clearing to world into something sharp and tangible and safe.
Homelander isnât touching you. Heâs punching against the layer of gold around you, and then flinching back with wide eyes and a strangled sound.
Then Ben comes up behind him, and smashes Homelanderâs face right into the wall of light and energy around you before yanking him away, and tossing him halfway down the ally.
You press your hand against the gold, and realize itâs Ben. Itâs so familiar because itâs simply just Ben. Itâs humming at your touchâa little extra light growing where youâve placed your handâand you meet Benâs firm, tense gaze with wide eyes.
Benjamin. What did you do.
Took the V. He glances down to where Homelander is groaning, starting to rise back up. Donât let Ryan touch it, it feels like the nuke or some shit.
Are you fucking insane-
No, Ben looks back to you, and you feel him roll in your chest. It worked, and youâre safe. Iâm fine-
You couldâve died, you dumbass-
But I fucking didnât. Homelanderâs on his feet against, and Benâs body braces, his fist clenching at his side. Stay here.
You glance back to the wallâmolding into and around your touchâand realize that if you pushed it a little more it might simply let you past. As if it counts you as a part of itself the same way your empathy counts Ben as a part of you.
âWhat, whatâs going on-â
You wrap your arm back around Ryan, trying to shield his view as Ben deals the first punch and Homelander goes flying into a wired, barbed fence. âTheyâre fighting,â you whisper, unable to tear your eyes away as Homelander staggers back up, lasers Ben right in the chest, and a searing pain pulses in the exact same spot on your body. âBen took some V. Donât,â your gaze flies back to Ryan, and you catch his hand as it raises to the gold around you. âDonât touch it. It could be dangerous.â
âBut you touched it-â
âThatâs,â you sigh, your body jerking as Homelander lands a blow on Benâs gut. âThatâs different. Ben and I are, um, weâre connected. It canât hurt me.â
Ryanâs eyes widen. âButcher told me you put your brain in him, and you can read each other minds-â
âYeah, I,â you take a heavy breath as Ben doges Homelanderâs next punch, and lands five in return. âI did. Plant my brain in him. But itâs not mind-reading, itâs more like texting. I send him thoughts, he-â you make a choked sound as Homelanderâs hand wraps around Benâs throat, and a frantic gasp as Ben kicks Homelander back, his whole body seeming to glow through the haze of gold. The drums are clearer, falling into time faster. âFuck, Ryan, cover your eyes.â
âWhy-â
âPlease,â you squeeze your arm around him, letting your gaze flick back to search over Ryanâs open, frightened expression you fell across your skin. Itâs not the paralyzing fear from before, itâs heavy. Uncertain and head-wrecking. âYou donât need to see this, I promise-â
He just nods and buries his head in your arm. You hold him there, forcing your breaths in and out as the drums get closer. So close, Benâs staring to illuminate the whole fucking world, and Homelanderâs just fumbling on the ground-
Heâs not fumbling. Heâs groping at his own suit, trying to grab something.
No.
You donât know if itâs just in your head, or called out to Ben aloud, or traded between your minds, but Ben looks up. At you.
Homelander throws something at Ben, it breaks on his chest, and you feel his panicâferal and animalistic and raw, covering every single part of your body and trying to rip out of your chestâright before his eyes widen, and then close.
Ben falls to the ground, the golden barrier around you fading away, and heâs quiet inside you. Not gone, never gone, but darkened.
Asleep.
And youâre not afraid anymore.
Youâre angry.
Youâre screaming Benâs name, Homelander is standing upâdusting himself off and turning back to youâand youâre furious.
The whole world is made of fire. Your whole body is racked with it, building and churning under your skin, sealing over cracks and making breathing so fucking easy. The air is filled with smoke, but breathing isnât an act of labor at all.
Itâs a way to focus.
Because youâre going to kill Homelander.
He doesnât see it coming. Heâs an overconfident, narcissistic, monstrous pussy, so he doesnât recognize that he did break you. A vital, impossibly powerful piece of you just snapped in your body when Ben crumbled on the ground, and your own voice sounds far away when you tell Ryan to run. To find Butcher, and go.Â
And then youâre moving. Half-flying to Homelander, and savoring the parasitic, hostile fear that rushes through you when your flaming fist collides with his face.
Youâre in complete fucking control. Homelander stumbles back, and you donât even fucking flinch. Your whole body is burning, your clothes turning to scorched ash under the white-purple flame, and youâre standing tall. Looking down your chin at Homelander as he collects himself, looking at you with an almost confused expression.Â
âWhat is this,â he says your name, running his hand over where his skin has twisted and burned, and you donât bother to hide your sneer as you answer.
âThis is it, you cunt.â You hiss. âYouâre never touching me, or anyone else I love again.â
âOh, please, you do not love Soldier Boy-â
âYou willing to bet on that?â
Homelander blinks, looking between your burning body and Benâs sleeping one, and scoffs. âYou canât be fucking serious. Youâd really leave me for him-âÂ
âIâm not leaving you. I was never yours.â You take a step forward, the pavement cracking under your feet. âI do love him. I really, really love your father, because heâs a million fucking times the man you are. Heâs never,â the fire building in your fists grows brighter. âHurt me. He always fucking respects me. He loves me.â You slash an arm through the air, and the wave of fire that rolls from it sends Homelander scrambling back. âAnd after I kill you, Iâm going to marry him. And then Iâll have his kids. And it wonât because Iâm his fucking vessel, it will be because I want to. And they will never,â the air around you is waving and electric and Homelanderâs eyes widen. âEven know your fucking name.â
It clicks. In Homelanderâs horrid, amoral, evil mind, it finally clicks. His eyes narrow, beginning to glow red, and heâs finally fucking got that you hate him.
âFine.â He spits your name, rising off the ground and sneering down at you. âHave it your way, you ungrateful bitch.â
You donât care for banter, or taunting. You just want to finish this. So when he lasers through your chest you bite down on your tongue, but both heal over in a secondâskin and muscle and organs reforming so fast you donât even stutter a breathâand your face curls into a smirk. He canât hurt you.
And then youâre moving.
Homelander is strong than you. Physically. In terms of brute force, Homelander has the upper hand.
But youâre burning the fucking world, and itâs singing for you. The fire inside you is a hurricane, itâs volcanic, itâs world ending and city leveling, and itâs all fucking yours. And itâs not razing the ground or ocean, because itâs all focused on Homelander. Your vision is lined with red, and youâre going to kill him.
You dodge almost every blow Homelander attempts to deal you, and your techniqueâthanks to Benâis perfect. Every hit you land is measured and powerful, wrapped in fire that sizzles and twists and boils Homelander alive. He lasers through you twice more, and itâs just as ineffective as the first time. If anything you brush it off faster, because it kicks your adrenaline up and the pain barely jolt through you for more than a second.
You have the upper hand. Homelanderâs falling back as your fire grows hotter, and heâs almost covering is hideous, still smoking scars. You explode in fire, hovering off the ground from the pure force, and it knocks him to the ground.
You yank his head upâgolden hair singeing black under your fingers, skin bubbling and growing marred beneath your touchâand hold his slightly fogged gaze, letting every inch hatred and loathing and fucking wrath in your body push back on whatever fear or anger lives in him. Allow every bit of your blood into Homelanderâs body like a poison, digging your nails into his skin.
You lower your face down to Homelanderâs, and hope he feels your every word.
âI hate you.â You search every inch of his pathetic, weak fucking face, your words easy but still spoken through teeth. âI fucking despise you. Youâre a monster, Homelander, and I am never going to do anything better in my life than making sure you never hurt anyone again.â
His eyes flash, glowing red and cutting through your body, but your grip only tightens. The smoke is choking his air-pipe, heâs burnt and mauled from your flame, and the roar that builds in his throat is primal.
Cold, leather hands grab your wrists, but his grip slightly slack as he gasps for breath, and he canât push you away from him.
Homelanderâs eyes on yours are frenzied, and suddenly heâs surging up. Not to his feet, but to you. His mouth moving to yours, and your hold on him loosens as you push away from him on an instinct of no. No, never again, cold and wrong and horrible and no.
Thereâs an echoing boom, and then heâs gone. Homelander blasts up into the air, and youâre left naked on the ground.
And Benâs still asleep.
You sprint back to himâbody still ablazeâfalling to his side on the ground, grabbing his face in your hands. The weight and terror of what just happened is crashing into you, and Benâs asleep. Homelander said Sageâs gas would last for three days, you canât wait three fucking days, you need Ben now. You need to feel him in your chest, to tell him you love him and adore him, to hit him and shout at him about how fucking stupid it was to shoot up the V, how thankful you are he did because youâre still here, and everything is going to be okay because youâre still together.
His face is completely neutral. Not peaceful, but blank. And when you try to shout between your heads, for him to wake up, please wake up, Benjamin, I need you to wake up now, itâs like screaming into the sky.
You know youâre crying because of the sobs that shake your body, but the tears are evaporating into your flame. Youâre weakly slapping Benâs face, trying to get his eyes to just flutter, but itâs pointless.
Hitting him is pointless. You can try one more thing.
You drop your brow to hisâyouâd worry about his skin burning, but it might wake him up, and you arenât actually seeing any blisters form where you touch himâand pray to a God you donât believe in that it can be this easy. That, as you start to grow lightheaded and the world fades in and out, itâs because itâs working and not because youâre hyperventilating and screaming choked sounds of Benâs name.
Then you feel strong, steady arms wrap around your body, and you collapse against him with strangled, pathetic noise.
He grunts your name in your head, and your fingers tangle in his hair. Youâre okay.
Iâm, you nod, even as you try and pull Ben closer, try to climb into his body so you can break in the safest place in the world. Iâm okay.
Sunshine-
Iâm okay, really, Iâm just tired. I just, Ben pulls you fully onto his lap, and you wrap your legs over his torso with another sob. I love you, please donât do that again-
Ben doesnât push back about how it wasnât at all in his control, or how youâve pulled a lot of similar stunts that might have left him as broken as you feel. He just squeezes you, moving your head to rest in his neck, and presses a kiss to the top of your head.
I wonât. And I love you too.
You nod, and thereâs more to deal with, but you canât make yourself move. You have to find the team and regroup, to figure out what to do with Malloryâs body, and work out Benâs exact new powers, but youâre so tired, and those will still be issues in ten minutes. You have one last gamble to takeâHomelander wonât face you head on, and you canât risk Ryan like that ever againâand Sageâs next move to worry about, but right now youâll just stay here. Sobbing into Benâs body, letting him hum an off-key tune thatâs meant to be Rainbow Connection until youâre only letting out shaky breaths, only feeling his warmth. He smells like pine and salt and gunpowder and something potent thatâs mostly just Ben, and itâs invading your sense and bringing you down.
There will be more to do.
But youâre just going to stay here, with Ben, for a while.
End Note: Babe wake up, new Soldier Boy powers just dropped.
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Love in the Big City Eps 5 & 6: That Apartment Was Too Small
Iâm late this week to write this post. Despite everything going on in the world and in my life, I have struggled with how similar episodes 5 and 6 played like Part 3 of the book. When I read over my reaction post for Part 3, I felt like I could post it with a few edits as a reaction to these two episodes. Iâve also read so many great posts about this section, so Iâll throw some quick thoughts down on some of the things that stood out in this section.
The T-aras Continue to Be a Great Change
Presenting the drama in a more linear format required baton passes between the sections that the book didnât require, and I really loved having the T-aras as pallbearers who also took care of Yeong when he wanted to go out the night of his momâs funeral. I love how they also feel like theyâve matured as theyâve gotten older.
Making us love the T-aras so much makes their flippancy about being around someone they know, or suspect, is positive hit like a ton of bricks in the flashback. Whatâs so sad about this is it puts this wall up inside of Yeong that keeps him from ever telling them about his situation with Kylie. We know the T-aras love him dearly, and I think they would have adapted quickly to take care of their friend. I couldnât help but think about the hospital scene from Part 2 and wonder how uncertainties Yeong felt about them complicated that moment for him.
I also love that theyâre the ones who got to meet and approve of Gyu-ho, and that they suggested Yeong take him on a trip to help rekindle the romance. Yeong not being completely alone has been one of my favorite changes, because few of us are ever as alone as we think we are.
Gyu-ho Feels so Alive
We see so much of Gyu-ho from Youngâs perspective in the book, and I loved seeing him come alive and share space with Yeong in the drama. I loved seeing the mundanity of their relationship. I loved seeing Yeong consolidate and clean up the room to make it livable for Gyu-ho just as much as I loved seeing them struggle with their living habits. I loved seeing them fight over little things, and then seeing Gyu-ho adapt to that and cover annoyances (especially with the water bottles).
Unfortunately, Kylie ruins so much of Yeongâs ability to commit to this relationship, and I think itâs why staying in Mi Aeâs apartment might be one of my favorite choices of the drama. When we read Part 3, I kept thinking about how small Youngâs apartment was, and how it didnât seem right for the two of them to stay there. Here in the drama, we see that Yeongâs mom made sure to take care of her affairs, and I wondered at how much Yeong had stashed away from that, but also figured he wouldnât want to stay in the home his mom had.
I think, for Yeong, Gyu-ho is just so radiant and beautiful a person that Yeong is worried heâll infect with HIV and make âdirty.â He brings that word up a lot, and it made me so, so sad. Kylie is everywhere in their relationship. Itâs in Yeongâs need to fake a blood test to get a decent job he hates. Itâs in his inability to pursue work opportunities in other countries. Itâs in their inability to have unprotected sex without worries. All of this culminates to make Yeong feel like heâs ruined Gyu-hoâs future for just being with him.
Conversely, itâs so frustrating to watch Gyu-ho from this perspective doing everything he can to make Yeong feel loved and valued. I felt so much for Gyu-ho when he got a solid job as a nurse and wanted them to get a bigger place together. I also felt for Gyu-ho searching for potential new partners on the apps. It sucked in the book and it sucks here when Yeong tries to shove Gyu-ho to go have sex with someone else when thatâs not what Gyu-ho wants at all; heâs a romantic.
As such, they could not make this relationship work. Gyu-ho is probably the one person in the series weâve seen Yeong trust to the most. The T-aras prickled his shame. Mi Ae outed him. Yeong Su turned out to be gross. Nam Gyu died. Â I believe Yeong when he said he was writing as hard as he could to build a future where he was independently wealthy enough to take care of himself and Gyu-ho, and it was so sad to see him completely lose the love he found in the present for that.
Onto the Finale
Thatâs all Iâve got this week. I find myself looking forward to this section because Iâm so excited to see what Habibi turns into with this version. Iâve meditated on the fallout of the Gyu-ho breakup, and Iâm excited to see what the drama does with that. Â
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the date
You were nervous to say the least. The date was supposed to start at 10 am but you got here at 9:30 am. You had chosen your favourite cafe because it made things easier. Just in case they did decide to ditch you, at least you could buy yourself your regular and go back home.
You were dressed in your favourite cherry colored plain sundress and white shoes. You carried a small bag with you that carried your wallet, phone, lip balm and water bottle. Your hair was half up and your stray hair had started falling out framing your face.
You sat in your booth and waited. You had brought a book with you but who were you kidding? You weren't going to read anything. You kept on glancing at the door. You've never been this nervous about a date before. But also, this wasn't exactly a real date, was it?
The door opened and two tall large figures walked in with flowers in their hands. They were in a deep argument or was it a discussion? They let their conversation go and looked around. You tentatively got up from the booth which caught their attention and they bounded towards you like happy puppies.
You weren't just starstruck. You were just⊠nobody could explain. Your breath hitched a little and your heart skipped its beats and your stomach somersaulted. Your cheeks were tinted with pink and it was not just your makeup.
They both held out their hand to give you flowers. You smiled. They were clearly trying to be competitive. You chuckled a little and took both the flowers with both of your hands, deeming the competition null. âThank you. I love roses, especially pinks and reds. I love these.â
Bucky and Steve were awestruck. You were even prettier in person. Your smile alluring and your chuckle endearing. And your voice? Sounded like the warm sun in spring.
They both had walked from different directions to get to the cafe. They both saw you from the cafe window. You looked so⊠angelic. They noticed your nervous tick of chewing your lower lip. Your lips looked so kissable. They also saw how you kept on glancing at the door. They did not want to make you wait any longer so they walked to the entrance at the same time.
âBucky?â âSteve?â
Clearly, none of them had thought that the other would have accepted.
âWhat are you doing here?â Steve was the first one to break the silence.
âMe? What are you doing here?â Bucky wasn't going to back down easily.
âI'm here to⊠go⊠get coffee,â Steve stuttered.
âWeird. I didn't know you could get coffee with flowers in your hand.â Bucky quirked up his eyebrows. They were caught, there was no reason to lie.
âUhâŠâ
âGive it up, punk. You can't lie to save your own life. You're here to see the girl, aren't you? The email girl?â
âYeah. you too?â Steve pointed at Buckyâs hand full of flowers.
âYeah. her idea, whatever you call it, sounded, i don't know, interesting. Wanted to give it a shot.â Bucky shrugged.
âYeah, it's no string attached, no expectations. It's liberating in a way.â Steve put his thoughts out and Bucky nodded to agree.
They both entered the cafe together, though a little apprehensive about the other being there. When you stood up so they could find you, they had to make sure they weren't dreaming. You weren't just angelic, you were⊠you looked beautiful. Especially in that floral sundress.
When Steve stepped forward to reach you, Bucky jumped up too. It had become a competition, unknowingly. But when you accepted their flowers at the same time, their heart thrummed in a rhythm. The moment they heard your voice, they were floored. Such a sweet voice, it was like a melody to them. And when they learnt that they picked the perfect flowers for you, they were on cloud nine seeing you smile at the flowers.
You guided them to sit on the opposite booth and Bucky slid in first, making Steve sit in the aisle. You did something unexpected after that. You took a rose from Steveâs side and gave it to Bucky and you took a rose from Buckyâs side and gave it to Steve. They were confused but in awe.
âWell, you both got me flowers and you both seemed⊠competitive, I thought it would be fair for me to give you each a rose from the otherâs side. If I had known we were doing flowers, I would've bought some for you too.â You nestled the roses neatly in your bag so as to not crush them.
âI- no, the flowers just popped in my head and thought it was a gentlemanly thing to do.â Steve initiated the conversation. âAnd thank you for the rose.â His cheeks were flushed.
âWhy would you give us the flowers though?â Bucky got curious about your comment.
âOh! Well, you should get flowers too. It's not a rule for a woman to not get flowers for a man, is it?â You tilted your head in question.
âNo, no it's not.â Bucky smirked. You were fantastic.
âSo, umm, before we begin, I do have to say something. I don't mind doing this with both of you. I don't want to choose.â You fiddled with your fingers. âIf any of you is uncomfortable with it, you both can pick who should stay. I dont- i wont.â
Bucky and Steve looked at each other. They had never thought about it. Sharing a date. They did share a few common traits they liked in women but sharing never crossed their mind. They turned their heads back to you.
âI don't want to come between two best friends again so if you decide that nobody wants this, it's okay as well. It was an email, not a contractual binding. You still have time to walk away.â you take in a deep breath.
âAgain?â Bucky raised an eyebrow. He wanted to know more about that aspect of your story.
âIt's- maybe some other time. Not right now.â You shuffled in your seat. âTalk it out, the two of you. I'll wait here.â
Bucky signaled Steve to stand up and they excused themselves. They stood outside the cafe in a way where they could see you. For a few minutes, all they could do was look at you.
There was something else about you, a sort of sadness that popped the moment they walked out of the cafe. You were rubbing your face with your hand as if you were worn out and your downcast eyes made their collective hearts clench.
âWhat do you say, Steve?â Bucky wanted to know what Steve thought. Surprisingly, it didn't cross Buckyâs mind that he would be jealous. Would he be?
âShe's right. We cannot ask her to choose. She did email us individually.â Steve wasn't looking at Bucky. His eyes kept going back to you.
âSo, you will be okay if I am on this date as well?â Bucky wasn't going to talk in circles. The time was of the essence.
âWhat?â Steve turned to Bucky. As well? What did Bucky mean? Did he mean all three of them go out together?
âYou know, she did say she wouldn't mind the two of us together with her.â Bucky shrugged, trying to act casual but he was terrified. What is Steve said no? Will this be the last time he sees you? Will he have the heart to give you up? This isn't even about a real date! All this tension over a fake one?!
âAre you sure? I mean, wouldn't you-â But Bucky cut Steve off.
âListen, this isn't even a real date. Why are we thinking so much? We did say we came here for no strings and no expectations. Why not just tell her that it's the two of us? What could possibly go wrong?â
âYou're right. We're overthinking this. Let's tell her it's us and her. A three person couple.â Steve squared up and began his walk to the cafe door.
âIt's called a throuple, you doof.â Bucky followed him.
You weren't paying attention. You suddenly had a minor panic attack which you had managed to settle. You shouldn't be doing this. This desperate attempt to make a perfect date. This isn't even your idea of a perfect date but you can't just invite strangers to your place for movies and dinner now, can you?
You were about to break down in a cafe in front of two of your celebrity crushes. But this overthinking, this maddening need to have just one sliver of happiness was taking over your thoughts of running away. Though, without your knowledge, few tears did escape your eyes.
âAre you okay? Why are you crying?â A very concerned voice made your head jolt up to see two pairs of gorgeous blue eyes looking at you in worry. When had they come back and sat down?
âYeah, why?â
âWell, you are crying.â Bucky reached down to give you a paper napkin.
âOh! I'm sorry. I didn't realize.â You wiped your face and looked back up with a smile. âSo, what was the decision? Is it one, two or none?â
âWe just want your consent over this too. We think that it could be the two of us with you. Are you okay with that?â Steve approached you very politely with the question. Bucky would have been more brash about it.
âThat's great! Yeah, I wouldn't mind as long as the two of you are okay.â You nodded enthusiastically with a smile. âOh but what about the money? Would you be splitting it? I will wire transfer you.â
âAngel, we don't need your money. Keep it. Seriously. We make enough money. Wejust want to enjoy today. Does that sound good?â Bucky tilted his head. You did look angelic, even with tear-stained eyes.
You nodded. âYes. it does. Now, let's go. We're wasting precious time.â
You got up and grabbed your bag. The two men followed you like puppies.
âSo, first things first. Here's the list of places I wanted to go to around the city for this date. I printed it out so it'll be easier. Also I do have a few requests but if any of you have any qualms about it, say the word and I will not bring it up again.â
âLay it on us, Angel.â Steveâs heart fluttered seeing you take a lead like this.
âOk, so the requests are as follows. But first. Do you guys know acting? Or do you know how to act? Even a tiny bit?â
âUh, sure? I mean we do go for undercover missions.â Bucky was confused by your question.
âOh cool. Maybe this could work. Ok, so first, can we pretend that this is not a first date and this is a date people go to when they're in a relationship? The one where there is no awkwardness.â You look at the two of them. âI'm sorry. This is already too much. Let's just finish this. I don't want to make you do something you both don't want to do.â
You start walking in the direction of your next destination. Bucky and Steve follow you and they each hold your hand to stop you.
âIt's not too much. Really. Tell us more of your requests.â Steve rubbed his thumb on your thumb, trying to calm the situation. You exhale loudly.
âOk. Well, that was the first request. The other is⊠Do you know how the hero looks at the heroine in the movies when he falls in love with her?â Both the men quirked up their eyebrows. âYou know, all soft heart eyes and just looking at her as if she's the only thing that matters?â
They quizzingly looked at you. âOh for the love of⊠Really? All these back on earth and you guys haven't watched a rom-com? Never mind. I'll educate you on that some other day. But for now,â You pointed at a very loved up couple across the street. âYou see them, look at the way heâs looking at her. That's how I want you both to look at me. I promise I'll tell you the reason soon.â
Both men looked at each other and nodded. âOk, anything else?â
âOh! This is not a request but this is me consenting the two of you that since we're pretending this is not an awkward first date, you can touch me however you like. Showing affection. If I do feel uncomfortable, I'll tell you, okay?â
âOkay.â âokay.â A verbal agreement was sealed.
Your first stop was the museum. You liked art. You couldn't interpret or understand all of it but you loved looking at them. Steve was excited about it and Bucky kept calling him a dork which made you laugh.
You had to cross the road and your hands automatically seeked theirs. You locked your hands to theirs and crossed the road. It had been a habit of yours since you had gotten in an accident while crossing the road at the age of 10.
The moment you locked your hands with them, a warm sensation reached their hearts. You were in front of them, the way you held their hands was as if you were protecting them. You made sure to cross safely and when crossed, you looked at them making sure they were ok.
âWere all okay? Good. let's go. Here we are! At the museum.â
âŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠ..
âThis is so boring! Can we really not do anything else? You both are dorking over flowers.â Bucky was very bored. He liked art, sure, but he wasn't that into it. He found looking at things for hours very boring.
âThese aren't just any flowers, James. These are Monet.â You turn to him and drag him back to you and Steve.
âBucky. Call me Bucky, Angel. Seriously, I will really like it if you call me Bucky.â His hand reached for yours and intertwined it. He gave you the most adorable puppy dog eyes and you couldn't help but laugh.
âOk, Bucky, stay still. Just a few more minutes and then we will go for lunch. I'm actually getting very hungry.â You pulled him by the hand closer so his chest was brushing against your back.
âLet's go then. Wouldn't want our Angel to go hungry.â Steve looked at you and smiled. He grabbed your other hand.
âOh but don't you want to look at the next exhibit? I thought you were excited about that one?â You tried to pull him towards that exhibit.
He pulled you back and your front bumped to his chest. âNope. you wanted to see Monet and we did. I really enjoyed it. I never thought of seeing Monet the way you did. Now let's get food for us.â
âOh no no. we're not doing that. A date should be for two people. Weâre seeing that exhibit and then we're getting food. Now come on.â You drag both of them to Steveâs most awaited exhibit. Bucky whined in your ear but you giggled and gave him a light jab.
Unknown to you, Steve couldn't keep his eyes off of you. The way you got excited about an art piece or the way you ranted about an exhibit because you knew the history of it. His heart surely skipped a beat when you didn't let go of his hand the rest of the time all three of you were seeing the art.
He was also surprised how he was feeling warm rather than jealous when he saw Bucky flirt with you. He had never felt this way, at least for you. You were just a no strings attachment but Steve seems to have formed some strings and he was willing to pull them to stay in this moment with you.
Once Steve had his fill of the museum, all three of you walked out hand in hand. You asked them if they liked Indian food and they said yes so you dragged them to the nearest location of one of your favourite Indian restaurants.
After you ordered lunch and settled in the seats, Bucky couldn't stop his curiosity and finally asked the question he's been wanting to ask.
âSo, I have to ask. Why did you send the email?â
âOh! UhâŠâ You were trying to gather your scrambling thoughts. What version do you want to tell them? The desperate one or the short one?
âBucky, that's rude. You can't just ask her something like this. She said she'll tell us when she's ready.â Steve saw you flush against the seat.
âOh it's no issue really. I was going to say anyway so might as well. I just thought saving it for the end would make this better but lets get it out of the way.â
Unknowingly, Steve and Bucky shifted to the edge of their seats. You smoothened your sundress on your lap to find the beginning.
âMy love life has never been about me. It should've been but it never was. My first boyfriend actually started talking to me because he liked my friend, even though he asked me out because he liked me for the way I was. That relationship lasted exactly six months before I pulled the plug on it because I just never felt that way about him. I thought having a boyfriend would mean I would like him but I didn't. Not romantically.
That's how my series of unfortunate relationships started. One was controlling, one was a flirt, one was angry all the time, one was a stalker and last one was, well, a ghoster.
But all these relationships had one thing in common and that was me trying to mold myself into that. Into a person they wanted me to become. I felt, I don't know, empty inside when I was with them. The people I liked, they never liked me back. They just used my affections for them and when done, dusted me off like I was just dirt.â
You took a large gulp of water from your bottle. Steve and Bucky were listening to you intently. Before you could say anything else, your food arrived and the conversation ended there. Both of them knew there was more but they didn't push it, for now.
The sadness in your eyes was too evident. They had wanted to hug you, hold you and tell you it's okay but it was neither the place nor the time.
Once the lunch was done, you brought out the list and your eyes sparkled. The next stop was a bookstore.
âŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠ.
âDon't you think that's too much?â Steve looked at the pile that was forming on Buckyâs hand.
âYou can never have too much, Steve.â You pass him by to look at the book behind him.
Steve turned around to see your arms empty. âAnd you, Miss Bad-Influence-on-Bucky. Where is your pile?â
You look at both of them sheepishly. âWell, I don't have a budget to buy new books. I'm just looking.â
âAnd by looking you mean wistfully sighing at every other book then yes, you're just looking.â Bucky taunted playfully. Then he gave you an exciting smile. âI'll buy books for you. Pick all you like.â
âNo! Are you crazy? No no, you don't have to. I-â You were worried this gesture would go straight to your heart.
âNo arguments. Come on. Lets pick. I'll hold your books for you. Pick whichever you like. And then, maybe, you'll help Bucky sort through his pile?â Steve gave you the sweetest puppy smile. You swore you floored there and then.
You started picking all the romance books you had your eyes on. You told them that you will sort again later. While Bucky kept on piling onto his arms any book he finds, you were very conscious about making sure you're not troubling Steve. But that didn't stop you from piling up.
Bucky watched you buzz from one shelf to another. You looked so excited! Talked so much about why you were picking the book you picked. The spark in your eyes went straight to Buckyâs heart.
Bucky kept his eyes on you. He gave you full freedom to manage his book pile. While you brutally shortened your own pile, he loved to see a soft ruthlessness in you. You kept on murmuring about why not this book or why not that.
When you were helping him with his pile, he chose to stand close to you. You actually went through an effort to know what his preferences were. You also asked if he would read âfairy smutâ and then went to explain what it was to the two of them with a deep blush on your cheeks.
Bucky saw you and Steve together, talking, giggling, sometimes laughing at his expense but he did not mind at all. He loved seeing the two of you together, with him. You always made sure that the other isn't missing out. His heart always tugged at you when you did that.
âMaybe I should read that fairy smut you were talking about.â Bucky announced haughtily. He wanted to know what was making you blush so much.
âUh, I wouldn't mind recommending but you like old school fantasy. Are you sure you want to try them?â You didn't want to throw him into the deep end.
âYeah. I wanna know what you are blushing so much about.â Bucky picked up a smut heavy book. âThis one, right? I'll take this.â
You snatched the book from his hand and shook your head. That one was the deep end. You look around the shelf and come across the one you thought would be great to subtly guide him in this genre. You handed him the book and he put it on his sorted pile.
His little comment about wanting to know what made you blush made your heartbeat rise. These are the exact reactions you're supposed to get when you're on a date. But then a thudding twinge of sadness poked the bubble. A lump formed in your throat again.
This wasn't real. None of this was. You snapped out before it got too deep. But one look at the men and your heart betrayed you again. You knew you were going to cry yourself to sleep for the next few nights.
Steve pulled you and Bucky out of the bookstore before both you bought the rest of the store. You and Bucky giggled at Steveâs stern face when he put his foot down about not buying more than five books. He stopped Bucky from buying more than six books but he bought you at least eight, which was a lot more than you had actually thought.
Steve carried your book-filled bag in his hand and Bucky held his own, although Bucky wanted to hold your bag too.
You were standing on the sidewalk with them, cruising through the list, trying to narrow down to one more place before dinner and then goodbyes. You chose a park. It was a small park, not too crowded and very close to where you lived. You didn't need to tell them that.
While you were busy, something in Steve and Bucky told them that they needed to talk to each other but before they could, you swooped in with your idea of relaxing in the park.
Their hands involuntarily went for yours, keeping you between them and all three of you started walking to the park, occasionally joking and laughing at each otherâs expense.
âŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠâŠ
âI should've worn jeans. I don't know how to sit on the grass in a dress.â
Just a slight complaint and the two men removed their jackets. Bucky stood behind you and tied his jacket to your waist, covering your back. Steve stood in front of you and tied his jacket to your waist, covering your front. So now you were all jacket skirted and comfortable.
Both Steve and Bucky observed how tiny you looked between them. Sure, your height came up to their upper chests but you still looked very tiny, something worth protecting and staying.
They kept on sharing looks with each other. They both had things to say about you but they also didn't want to leave you alone. Their brain had, by now, completely accepted this to be the real first date.
The park was pleasant and so was the weather. You sat comfortably with the two men who told you stories about their good old days. You laughed, smiled and commented on their stories. But the twinge in your heart kept on reminding you that this isn't real.
There was occasional hand touching, hand holding and kisses on cheeks and foreheads. There was also leaning on each other to get comfortable and there was no issue in minding the proximity.
If there was a third person looking at the scene, they would surely say that the three of you looked very cozy. Too cozy for being in public. Someoneâs hand was on someoneâs waist, someoneâs hand was on someoneâs thigh and someone was all cuddled between the other two someones.
The evening passed by and it was finally time for dinner. You, being the smarter of the three, had made a reservation to a nearby restaurant that also overlooked the water and the bridge. You wanted the ending to be scenic.
Ordering what each of you were in the mood for, a silence spread over, again. But this time it was Steve who asked you a question.
âIf you don't mind telling us, why just one date email? We never reached that part of our discussion.â
âOh yeah. I'm sorry it completely slipped my mind.â You gulped down water and looked at them. It made you chuckle how eager they looked to get new information.
âWell, as I told you about my sad and pathetic love life, I started seeking more. Of course I can blame my love for romance books and movies but that's just not it. These unrealistic expectations that people talk about, I have witnessed them, in my own home.
My many cousins, who are married to their lovely partners, I see them. I have seen their love. They dont need to say âi love youâ or âyou are fucking annoying but i will do this for you because i love youâ. They show, they act on it. Our family isn't big on PDA but the occasional hand holding, hugging, even annoying on purpose screamed love.
These are the types of things I have read in books as well. So how are these unrealistic? Also, never in any of my past relationships have any of my friends told me that my boyfriend looks at me like I am the only person in the room. I can understand one or two but every single one of them?
I pretended all these years that it didn't matter. But it does. I'm not- I don't know how to say things so I show, say something else instead of what i actually mean and many times it's not that hard to âdecodeâ. The last guy I was with said he didn't want a complicated relationship because I asked him to communicate better.â
You took a deep breath. This was turning into a rant. You didn't want that. You never wanted to show your sad and pathetic side to them.
âI'm sorry. I didn't mean to rant. I didn't even answer your question.â
âAngel, it's okay. You can share anything with us. Go on. We know you have a lot to say.â Bucky put his hand on yours and rubbed your knuckles with his thumb to calm you.
âNo- well, at least let me tell you why the email. So, i was tipsy and because i never got to experience the âin-loveâ part of the couple, i thought maybe a famous person could put up an act for the day and i can get my fill. Then I can cry about my life again but I will still have this memory.â You shrugged and hearing you answering it very nonchalantly, their eyes widened.
âSo, you are prepared to get your heart broken at the end of the day?â Steve was intrigued by your ideology.
âYes. I mean, that is one of the reasons why I sent emails to actors. They can act and at the end of the day, the payment would have made everything settle in place.â
âBut we're not actors.â Bucky sounded jealous. A tinge. Somehow he had pictured you, an angel, their angel, with some random man who wasn't even going to treat you right, even for the sake of a fake date. He hated that.
âYes, well, like I said, I was tipsy. I sent emails to every guy I found hot.â
Before they could get a word out, the food arrived, putting a comma to the discussion. Steve and Bucky were seeing green. They didn't like the thought of you with someone else.
âSo weâre just some lucky winners?â Steve wasn't very good at concealing his jealousy.
You flinched a little with Steveâs tone and Bucky put his hand on Steveâs thigh to calm him.
âNo. This was not a competition. This was a ridiculous request by a drunken lonely woman who has never experienced love.â Your voice raised a little.
âSure it wasn't a competition.â Steveâs sarcasm burnt you. âYou did say yes to both of us when you had the chance to pick one. But no, you wanted us to fight over you, didnt you? This is the type of love you were looking for? A broken one?â
Steveâs words left scaring marks on your heart. He was right, wasn't he? You don't even know what love is while this man had been in love for a century with the same woman. He knew what love was and you didn't, you were just seeking a way to fulfill your dumb fantasies, which you did. You got to go out with two hottest men.
Tears had blurred your vision when you stood and walked out of the place without even a glance. You knew this would happen. The night was going to end in tears anyway. Why wait for dessert? You stumbled down the restaurant deck and wiped your cheeks forcefully. You were not going to cry in public. You started your ten minute walk home. A safe space.
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Cabin - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader
A/N: Written for this request. I hope I did it okay. I left a lot of things vague, but I didn't wanna make up a situation for this one. Also, if anyone saw this post early, no you didnât
I hope Logan doesn't come off as too ooc. Writing him getting angry around Reader didn't feel right for the request, so l wrote it like this instead
CW: crying, unsafe driving (due to crying), family fights, Reader has a toxic mother, I think this counts as hurt/comfort?, more crying, quiet comfort, cuddling, kissing, hugging, Logan's more of an actions guy than a words guy, hopeful ending sorta?, ooc Logan
672 words
You were crying while driving. Itâs a little bit disheartening; how well you know this road by now. How easily you can navigate it, even with your tear-blurred vision.
But you donât stop. You canât. Where else do you go?
Itâs not the first time youâve driven up this road after a fight with your mother. But this time was different.
Youâd finally gotten the courage to come out to her. To set her straight about who you really are. And of course, everything had fallen apart the moment youâd spoken the words, âIâm trans.â
Hell hath no fury like your mother. Even now, you flinch at the memory. You push it out of your mind forcefully. The last thing you want is to start bawling and have to pull over.
Pulling over means stopping. And stopping means facing the fact that you have four boxes in the back of your car, filled with everything she let you take.
All too soon, youâre arriving at your destination. Loganâs house. Itâs small. Tucked away in the mountains. Cozy, with a beautiful view.
Itâs become your safe place. The one place your motherâs too scared to venture. Itâs home.
And now it may really become your home.
You take the time to clean your face up. Making it look a little less like youâve been crying. Heâll be able to tell; you already know. But it helps you focus on something.
Finally, you exit your car. You leave the boxes in the back, taking only yourself as you walk up to the front door. His truck is in the driveway, so you open the door without knocking.
âLogan?â
âIn the living room.â His voice is gruff and immediately soothing. Just the sound has a weight lifting off your shoulders.
You go further in, toeing off your shoes at the doorway.
Heâs lounging in the living room, comfortably sprawled on the couch. Heâs reading a book, though he puts it down once you enter. âHey. Whatâs wrong?â
Something breaks in your chest at his question. Your heart, maybe. Tears spring to your eyes and your voice comes out shaky. âI got kicked out.â
Logan sits up, beckoning you to come closer. âCome here. Tell me what happened.â
You make it into the safety of his arms before everything spills out with a sob. And oh, you tell him everything.
You can feel him tense as you speak, but he never gets angry. He never says anything. He just holds you.
Once youâre all done, he rubs your back. Quietly soothing you into soft hiccups of breath. Your tears have all dried up, leaving your eyes itchy and sore. You feel like shit, except for the fact that you're with him.
âSay something?â You whisper.
He rumbles out a sigh. âIâm here for you. Whatever you need. A place to stay, a voice against her. Iâll do whatever it is you want me to.â
You think about what you want. What you need. âI want to stay here. Will you help me get the boxes out of my car?â
He pulls you in for a gentle kiss and nods. But he hesitates before getting up. âNo matter who you are, youâre always safe here. Youâre always safe to be yourself.â
Itâs gruffly said, but clearly heartfelt. You know heâs rarely so direct about it; preferring unspoken ways of love to words. But heâs doing it for you.
You hug him tightly, a silent appreciation of his words. Heâs never been one for grandiose displays of affection or comfort. Instead, heâs your cabin in the mountains. Quiet. Steady. Always there when you need it.
It gives you hope. Confidence. Loganâs got your back. Whatever you decide to do, whatever ways you choose to continue on, heâll go with you.
It gives you the strength to stand up, gather your shoes, and lead him out to finally face the boxes in your car.
No matter what, youâve got Logan. And she can never take that away from you.
Logan Howlett Taglist: @yhlqmdlg @alekkkkssss
#wolverine#logan howlett#ftm!reader#trans male reader#dividers by saradika#wolverine x ftm reader#wolverine x trans male reader#wolverine x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine x ftm!reader#logan howlett x ftm reader#logan howlett x ftm!reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x trans male reader#x ftm!reader#x ftm reader#ftm reader#x trans male reader#transmasc reader#x transmasc reader#x trans reader#trans reader
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could you write for the impractical jokers with an s/o that has anorexia ? if that would be too triggering for you, i completely understand!!
hihi ! thank u for the ask :) i did my best with this and i didn't mention purging or binging because that's a lil triggering so i hope this is what you were wanting !!
The Impractical Jokers with a s/o with anorexia
-- tw; eating disorders(obv), unhealthy eating habits --
Sal
-he definitely monitors your eating as much as he can(in a loving way i swear, not trying to be creepy)
-texts you casual reminders to eat throughout the day, even if he know you won't
-he has your safe meals/meals he knows your comfortable with memorized
-y'all don't go out to eat often(he def has hellofresh or smth), but when you do, he makes sure to look up the menu with you beforehand and you guys plan what you'll get together
-he's very particular about what he eats so he has absolutely no shame while the two of you are out and will send back any food you mention isn't made the way you like
-honestly you could just give the plate a weird look and he's already calling the waiter back
-makes sure you take at least a few bites, but he won't force you into anything
-anywaysss
-sitting and eating with you is his love language atp
-he's always so proud of you, no matter what !! and he won't hesitate to tell you that
Joe
-we all know this man loves to eat
-he won't hesitate to finish your plate for you(after you take a few bites of course !)
-absolutely LOVES talking about sweet treats with you and honestly that's how he get's you to try new treats most times
-he will def get you to take silly pics with him with food connecting y'alls mouths or making silly faces with the food to "trick" you into eating
-his favorite dates with you are dinner dates, because he loves to chow down and he loves to watch his partner eat
-all in all he doesn't 100 percent understand ! but he supports you, loves you, and keeps you well-fed !
Murr
-he's genuinely so caring with you
-he makes sure you ALWAYS know how much he loves and cares about you
-he loves to pack lunches for the both of you, and he always leaves you cutesy little notes !!
-he insists that you two eat dinner together every night, he loves sitting down to unwind, chitchat, and share a meal with you(no matter how much you eat !)
-he can(and will) just go on and on about how beautiful he thinks you are
-he tells the guys that he doesn't understand how he got such a gorgeous person on his arm
-He will read books and watch yt videos to learn more about anorexia and how he can help
-will always keep it real with you when you start getting bad again, not in a mean way ! he just loves you and hates to see you that way
-loves to remind you of how far you've come in your relationships with food and your body
Q
-he's had his own struggles with depression, so although he may not completely understand, he gets it
-loves to curl up on the couch with you and watch movies; he'll hand-feed you a few bites of whatever snack he's got
-he's completely obsessed with you tbh
-he often brings home your favorite takeout for dinner because it's easy and he knows he can get you to take a few bites
-always wants to remind you how beautiful you are, rarely calls you by your name; it's always "gorgeous" or "beautiful" from him
-he will also text you throughout the day; he loves to yap about how his day is going, he'll also sneak in little reminders to eat a snack of some sort
-he will celebrate every little milestone with you, no matter how small or insignificant you tell him it is(he's buying you flowers, jewelry, the whole works)
-he's just so loving with you ugh
-on days where you're feeling extra weak or tired he's so gentle with you, he spends all day coddling you and making you stay in bed while he takes care of you
#fanfic#drabbles#fluff#angst#impractical jokers#q impractical jokers#sal vulcano#james murray#joe gatto#brian quinn#brian quinn x reader#sal vulcano x reader#james murray x reader#joe gatto x reader#impractical jokers x reader#imagines#impractical jokers imagine#impractical jokers angst
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Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching reading. Today's choice: æ»äșĄäžè±ç / Kaleidoscope of Death.
Kaleidoscope of Death is a 2018 Chinese webnovel about two young men who fall in love while basically playing a whole bunch of horror-themed escape rooms that can for-real kill you.
This novel was gripping. I could not put it down. It started out fun and ended up ripping out my heart several times. It does a good job getting the ball rolling with a series of adventures in weird worlds, then turns into a meditation about grief and loss and what it means to have something to lose in the first place.
This is the first time I've ever done a book rec! I'm doing it in conjunction with a rec post for the Spirealm, and originally I was just going to do this as a bonus section for that post. However, I felt they both deserve whole different posts, because they both have very different things to recommend them. I also think Kaleidoscope of Death a 100% necessary read if you've seen the show, because it provides some context that the show simply cannot include -- but it's not a necessary read before you see the show.
Therefore, I'm going to give you five reasons I think you should sit down with this one, and not a single one of these reasons is going to assume you've watched the Spirealm! The book is great and deserves to be read on its own merits, and then if you then start watching the drama afterwards, so much the better.
1. All the Cross-Dressing
(Yeah, I'm going to punctuate this one with screencaps from the Spirealm, because otherwise it's just a wall of text.)
I'm not going to tell you why the male characters frequently dress and pass as women, since the book explains the practicality of it better than I could. You just need to know that they often do, and it's never not kinda hot when it happens.
When you first meet Ruan Nanzhu, it is as Ruan Baijie, a stunningly beautiful and noticeably tall woman. Lin Qiushi, our POV character who is extremely confused for a number of reasons, spends the first whole arc talking and thinking about Baijie like she's a girl. In fact, one of the cutest things about sweet, earnest Qiushi is that he clocks Baijie several times, and every time he's just like, oh, she's so flat-chested, how unusual for a girl, anyway...
And this isn't even just dressing up! Stepping into the door worlds changes you physically based on your clothing and cosmetics. Nobody inside looks the same as they do outside, and nobody looks the same inside as they did last time they were inside. The rules that govern these transformations aren't even clear to the characters themselves! So, you know, have fun with that.
I'm going to say it's not an out-and-out trans thing, in that we're not dealing with an AMAB egg who will crack someday. Ruan Nanzhu is a very male-identified, penis-having man! He's just also pretty entertainingly comfortable with performing whatever gender makes him the most fuckable person in any given room. Lin Qiushi is not so inherently genderfluid, however, which means that when his gremlin sort-of-boyfriend makes him pretend to be a girl, it's a completely different kink.
Therefore: If you like it in any way when boys dress up like girls, you owe it to yourself to pick up this one. And if you like a fandom that likes it when boys dress up like girls, baby, welcome to the world inside the doors.
2. Those boys GAY
This is a textual romance. Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu are in love. This is a danmei novel about how they fall in love. There is kissing and there are fade-to-black scenes that explicitly acknowledge that the two of them have sex with one another. We even know that Ruan Nanzhu (usually) tops. This s not just me pointing at them and saying gaaaaaaaaaay. This is actual gay.
And it is gay that takes its fucking time. They do not actually hook up until well over halfway through the book, but they are physically affectionate from almost the get-go. Ruan Nanzhu is such a trickster and a liar that Lin Quishi finds it hard to believe that anything he does is sincere, which leads to nearly lesbian levels of wondering if it means anything when a guy demands you kiss him on the mouth when he's pretending to be your girlfriend. Meanwhile, Ruan Nanzhu is over here being the Kate Beaton comic about sitting here consumed with lust all evening.
Even once they both acknowledge what they're feeling for one another, they don't get together right away. After all, they're playing a game of life and death where they lose friends left and right. Every time someone goes inside the door, there's a real chance they won't come out again. Is giving your heart to someone worth how much it will destroy your entire life when you lose them?
(Yes, says the book. Yes, it is worth it.)
The slow burn of their relationship is delicious, in part because the physical (though not sexual) aspects of it predate the romantic ones. It also has the fun hot-and-cold aspect where Ruan Nanzhu is incredibly affectionate inside the doors, then icy outside of them. Poor completely inexperienced, never-been-kissed Lin Qiushi does not know what to make of any of this. He can barely manage parenting a cat. He does not know how to handle a boyfriend who is also a girlfriend who is also (spiritually) a cat.
I also find it charming how much the gay part of it both is and isn't an issue. It's not that Lin Qiushi has a problem being in love with a man; however, the fact that Ruan Nanzhu is a man does mean the heteronormally indoctrinated and relationship-inexperienced Lin Qiushi takes much longer to realize what exactly those feelings he's having are. The book's world is one where heterosexuality is the assumed default, while queerness is unexpected but everybody's still pretty cool with it. Besides, no one's going to judge Lin Qiushi's gay yearnings, because who doesn't want to fuck Ruan Nanzhu?
3. HAKO ONNA HAKO ONNA HAKO ONNA
So as I was reading through @zintranslations' earlier chapters, I kept seeing translators' notes down at the bottom about being so excited to finally get to the Hako Onna arc. Okay, I thought, this is a lot of hype; I hope it doesn't disappoint.
Friends, it does not. This is the arc I was reading while screaming into a pillow. It's thirteen chapters long, tied for the longest arc in the book with the first door. It is a fucking nail-biter. It does the clever thing of taking all the things you've learned about what can happen inside the doors and combining them for a worst-case scenario.
The setup is pretty simple: There's a bunch of boxes. One has the exit. Most are empty. Some have things that help you. Some have things that hurt you. The more things you find that hurt you, the more things there are to hurt you. And you have to open the boxes.
All the door arcs are pretty well-written, so that you can more or less play along with their various adventures. Hako Onna, however, is exceptional. It's so complicated, but you can actually follow it. And you need to be able to follow it, because the multiple emotional gut-punches that happen in this arc all depend on understanding how the rules of the game have just been leveraged to fuck someone over.
Now I really want to play the board game -- which I was pleased to discover is a real board game! And speaking of board games...
sidebar: Betrayal at House on the Hill
I know this isn't technically related to the novel at all, but if you like board games, horror, and being incredibly dramatic, you owe it to yourself to try out Betrayal at House on the Hill.
It goes like this: You and several other horror-movie archetypes wander through a mansion, "building" it as you explore it, so the game layout is different every time. At some point (and it's based on so many random factors that you never know when it'll be) someone triggers a condition, and the haunting begins. All the players then get the rules of haunting explained to them -- except for one player, the one picked to do the titular betrayal, who gets a different set of instructions and becomes the antagonist. From that point on, the game is about either surviving or completing the haunting, depending on which side you're on.
I have played this game before with normal board game people, and they were like, eh, this is fine. I have also played this game before with theatre kids who RP and LARP, and we all had a fucking blast. So I'm going to warn you that you have to choose your crowd carefully. This is a game for people who do improv and voices.
4. The art of losing isn't hard to master
The book has a high body count -- higher than the show's, in fact, though that's related to how the book also has more characters than the show does. When you meet someone who can go into the doors, be careful how much money you'd lay on their survival.
Death after the doors comes so quickly, too. There's barely any time to say goodbye, if there's even any time at all. Often there's just a phone call telling our main characters that one of their friends or allies or enemies is gone.
Everyone who gets the chance to go through the door worlds is only able to do so because they're dying already. The more doors they pass, the more they get to kick that death further down the road -- but the more doors they enter, the more chances they take that they might die inside one. So really, none of the players can be that resentful of being forced to play a game that can kill them, since they're already playing it on borrowed time.
I will say, somewhat cryptically, that the book has a positive ending that leaves open the possibility for other positive things. The path to that positive ending, though, leads through some pretty wrenching takes on living through grief. It's not even all rah-rah and it-gets-better, either -- the text acknowledges many times over what it means to have someone that life isn't worth living without.
And that's maybe not what you expected from a BL horror adventure webnovel, but it's what you're gonna get! Ha ha!
5. What He Is
Which is the title of the first extra chapter, which is not extra at all, but is in fact a necessary explanatory piece that whacks you upside the head like a two-by-four and recontextualizes the entire story.
...Yeah, that's all you're going to get from me about that. You'll understand when you get there.
Have you put it on your reading list yet?
The way you have to read it is a little convoluted: @zintranslations has chapters 1-17 and 63-end + extras. Taida Translations has chapters 1-62. So no matter where you start reading, you're going to have to switch sites at least once.
There are also apparently Portuguese, Indonesian, Russian, and Spanish translations too? And the original Chinese webnovel, of course. And some audio dramas and subs linked to from this Carrd, which helpfully has other information, like content warnings for specific chapters, in case the horror aspect of the story gives you pause.
Anyway, once you're done reading it -- or even before you're done! -- you should absolutely go watch the Spirealm. I think it's clear from both rec posts that I definitely like the book better, but I appreciate having the drama to bring so many scenes to life, and I think the casting is great. Also, I don't think reading the book makes you like the drama less! Rather, I think reading the book gives you insight into the awkward and sometimes terrible choices the drama had to make to survive -- which in turn gives you the ability to see through those choices, on to what the show always wanted in its heart to be.
I do find it funny how "Kaleidoscope of Death" and "Death's Kaleidoscope" technically mean the same thing, but they sure read different, don't they?
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Thank you for the video! I ran it through a transcriber:
Daniel Montgomery: Rolin Jones, you are the showrunner for Anne Rice's Interview with The Vampire, which aired its second season this past year.... The two seasons are based on the first book, Interview with the Vampire. What did you most want to capture from the novel over the course of these two seasons?
Rolin Jones: Yeah, a very particular romance. The strange war that happens between a 78-year-old man and a 148-year-old man, who still have some stuff to figure out. I wanted Anne's language to make an aggressive appearance; the prose that's so lovely in there, which is sometimes the thing that falls first when you're adapting. And then, yeah, I wanted an almost operatic experience for an audience, as well, to go with it. Emotions are really, really heightened. And yeah, I don't know. Just general, you know, I wanted it to be a nervy, vibrating, weird-ass show. God bless AMC for letting us make it.
DM: And how do you decide where to deviate from the source material, you know, what to expand on, what to leave out? Like, you know, I imagine those are difficult decisions in any adaptation.
RJ: Well...there's a lot of wonderful stuff in our book, a really beautiful book to work off of. I think the challenges were a little bigger in season two, mostly because there was a lot less plot in that book. The book is almost like five meditative conversations between vampires, and then some crazy events, and then, and then you're out! And we had to kind of create a lot of plot out of that. But for the most part, yeah, we try to put as jam as much Anne as we could in there. And the basic, the basic changes you make for anything that was beautifully written as a novel and the choices that you'd have to make to turn it into something that is, you know, for actors to speak. And for it to cut over 15 episodes. I don't know, I think we cannibalized that book! There's like, there's not a lot left. It's a couple of characters that fell off, for this reason, or that reason. We made some decisions about the timeline. But I'd say, I think it was done with a lot of love. And a lot of collaboration with Anne, who is no longer with us.
DM: And Season Two, you introduced the vampire troupe led by Armand. What most excited you about bringing those characters and storylines from from the book to the screen and, you know, folding that in?
RJ: Oh, well, anytime you can shove theater into the face of TV viewers is always a good thing! I hire a lot of playwrights, and a lot of actors from the theater. So I think if there's anything we were just trying to restrain ourselves from making a lot of insider dumb theater jokes that nobody could care about. I think, we always kind of had the specter of the movie behind us ,and they did that part really, really well in the movie. So a lot started out just as, like: Oh, how are we, how are we going to do it? How are we going to justify doing this again? I think there was a caveat from AMC too: Don't repeat the movie! We've seen it! It's beautiful, it's out there! Our timeline really opened up a lot of opportunities to make it a grittier, dirtier, slightly more dangerous Theater of the Vampires than the movie, or even in the book. And the joy of actually setting something in post-war Paris. You see Paris going over the war, you see a lot of Paris during the war, and then you don't see a lot of stuff done in those those first four or five years afterwards. Which was, I think, for all of us, was a nice way to feel like you were, you know, coming into Paris in some kind of a side door. And also just numbers! We had a season one was like a chamber drama between three characters. And we got to expand it, not only with just the bodies, but in space and time to with, you know, what was going on with Dubai; and what what Louis was coming to realize was his truth along the way. So, you know, I got to cast Ben Daniels again! Ugh! <3 Best!
DM: And what was it like writing for him? Ben Daniels, in the role of Santiago? You know, that character being such a highlight of the season?
RJ: Well, we knew that's our that was our guy from the day one! Even if he was already scheduled to go be on Lord of the Rings and our dates weren't working out to begin with. He is somebody we had up on the wall. I worked with him on a TV show previously about like seven or eight years ago, seen his theater work, and know what he can do. He's just one of those really wonderful actors that can sort of turn on a dime, and take something that is very, very funny and then make it very sinister, just like that. The instrument is really huge. And we had a really hammy role for him! Which was, you know, he's just he's one of the really delicate butchers--just the right slice of ham on top of given circumstances and stuff, what a joy. And he also acts like a naughty 14 year old boy when the camera is off too. So it's a nice energy on on Sam. And he gets it like, you know, sort of like the grandad of our theater trip because they were all a bunch of theater actors who had known him growing up in the theater too. So that was a treat. You'd see it on stage. I mean, you see in the camera, there's a lot of joy. There's a lot, it feels like a theater company there. You know, nice to be with it.
DM: Now, there are more than a dozen books in The Vampire Chronicles. You're going into Season Three, you know, and you'll be covering The Vampire Lestat. Would you cover them all if you could, or is there like a specific endpoint that you have in mind?
RJ: I mean, like anything else, you're supposed to take a really good hard look at yourself and go: Do you have anything left to say about vampires? And, you know, they pay you to do this. So that's hard. And I have a three year old child and all that stuff. And who doesn't want a swim in the pool? But I think if you're really honest with yourself, you've got to say: Can you still bring it with the same energy that you brought it the first time? And for Season Three, I believe I can. And I believe our staff can. For 12...for TWELVE books!? Man! I think somewhere along the way, you got to hand that thing off. Because you're just, when you're up to writing the 540th scene of Louis, uhhh...you really need some new blood in there. I think that's a while off. You know, if I had my brothers, we'd do this, figure out Queen of the Damned, Tale of the Body Thief, maybe Memnoch? Somewhere there. And at some point, there will be somebody who already says: Oh, it clearly should be this person. And also! Vampires was--I mean, by that time, who knows how old Sam Reid and Jacob Anderson will look! They might not even look like immortals anymore! So we're just going to try, as long as AMC gives us the dough. We're trying to make aggressive things with it--we're very privileged to do it. But yeah! Look, I'm in the heat. It's hard for me to talk about Season Two, I'm in the heat of Season Three right now! I got Season Three Head in here right now. So I think I hopefully none of this all sounds really canned. It's just that I'm already in the next season.
DM: Now the show is getting a spin off about the Talamasca, who tied into Season Two. Does it complicate the storytelling process to have to factor in storylines that are happening in the same universe, but on another show?
RJ: It's fun, we're communicating with each other. You don't want to be the person that says: You can't do that, you can't do this. You want like John and Mark who are working on the Talamasca show to have as much freedom as I had. That being said, we have a couple of characters that are crossing over. So there's some communications between the two about, like, what those characters need to do in the next season of Vampire, and make sure that those things don't conflict. If anything, make sure that they can help build a better story. Like I'm reading the scripts, and grafting on the given circumstances of their show into ours. And that's cool! That's fun. And they're lovely guys too. So that makes it easy.
DM: Well, I want to congratulate you on your work on Seasons One and Two, going into Season Three of Interview with a Vampire. And thank you so much for talking to me about it!
RJ: Oh, a pleasure! A pleasure! *kisses* Gold Derby!
Interview with Rolin Jones.
Full video here đđ»
#interview with the vampire#the vampire lestat#queen of the damned#memnoch the devil#amc immortals universe#the hype is real#must see tv#videos
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y'all remember that erotic but chilling short story where armand tells louis about feeding on people and it's like super horny in that anne rice way. well i had a copy of it somewhere, but i cannot find it. i don't remember what the name was. anyone out there got a link?
#i'm afraid to post in the main armand tag#i don't go there bc i hear ppl are still fighting over armand not being 17 and a redhead#which is a change that i like personally bc they aged up the other characters to their 30s when changed to vamps#like i know that it changes certain aspects of his character#but it's an adaption so i'm fine with it#as long as they stay true to the spirit of the characters i'm good#also i know the books go on and on about his beauty#but i literally work at a high school and see 17 yr old boys daily#and they look like babies to me now that i'm an adult in my 30s
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do skully have pokemon?
Pumpkaboo is the obvious one, but y'know, sometimes the obvious one is the right one! (we'll say SUPER SIZE Pumpkaboo, just for fun. big pumpkin for big skeleton boy.) and another person actually also suggested Greavard, which I somehow hadn't considered, but feels so perfect that I feel like I should have. dangit.
(they can also have little Nightmare Suit costumes :D)
#art#twisted wonderland#pokemon#poketwst#twisted wonderland spoilers#lost in the book with nightmare before christmas#hajimari no halloween#(sorry for leaving anon off for a while! i've gotten a rash of spam and i'm gonna wait it out a couple days before turning it back on)#also apologies for the rest of this not really being pokemon related#i don't have anything right now for part 4 of the event so i'm gonna use this space to go off about it#because. oh man.#a sad lack of the scullsman but a FEAST of everyone else#gotta love malleus and leona uniting in the common goal of hunting trey down for trying to game their whiny pettiness#(trey doesn't know what to do with someone he can't easily distract with cake)#also further confirmation that malleus WILL kill a small child and leona WILL point and laugh the whole time#also sebek's plans revolving around what he knows he's good at: screaming extremely loudly and hoisting nerds#and let us not forget what i consider to be the crowning jewel#which is jamil figuring out IMMEDIATELY where scully has taken his prisoners#only for everyone else to just. literally refuse to do anything about it.#jamil just standing there and going 'WE KNOW WHERE THEY ARE! WE CAN JUST! GO GET THEM!!!! WHYYY AREN'T WE GOING'#visibly losing his entire mind and it's beautiful#top 10 twst event moments honestly#also some delightful character consistency from jade being all#'actually my dicking around is a sign of my immense trust in your abilities to get things done :)'#'but also consider: there are currently two housewardens chasing a child'#'alternately angrily screaming poetry and begging them not to sue'#'and if you will pardon my city of flowers...there is no fucking way i'm missing that'#lock shock and barrel did not sign up for this. how did these idiots turn out to be somehow weirder than the three of them.#twisted wonderland must be a frightening place indeed
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sometimes i think about this txt cover of invitation and... that long haired guy is just choso with his hair down TO ME
#his name is beomgyu and his face is INSANE what the FUCK#also these beautiful kpop boys' voices go up SO HIGH wow good for them#the little rap part in the middle is so fun i love that#the og song is by a woman and they did not shy away from the feminine aspects when making this cover like... gender.....#this drawing is crack LOL sorry imagine if choso was a kpop boy idk i made him TOOO pretty ahahahaha#choso#choso kamo#my trophy husband#jjk#jjk fanart#one thing about me i will make all my faves unrecognizable oops#but also gege said in the character book that he based choso on a fashion model so i know my baby got a beautiful ass show stopping face#do i have to get into txt now omg im only casual about bts adding another boy group is too much i dont got time for that but also... hmmmm#alulu art
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drawing achilles with short hair should be fucking illegal.
#im about to throw hands#honestly yall dont appreciate the BEAUTY of men w long hair#no u dont understand how heartfulling it feels to see achilles w his pretty hair around his shoulders#i go like THATS MY BOYYYY#but then i come across w post where he's hair is shorter than my will to live and#WHAT FUCK IS THAT#NOOOO#DONT U KNOW THAT IN OLD TIMES HAIR WAS A SYMBOL OF STATUS ALSO?????#LONG HAIRED MEN WERE SEEMED AS HIGH PRINCES#IF ACHILLES DOENST HAVE LONG HAIR#HE. IS. NOT. ACHILLES#achilles#patroclus#tsoa#the song of achilles#achilles x patroclus#patrochilles#books#madeline miller#greek myth
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so I'm sitting there in tears over my discovery of what the J in Andrew J Robinson stands for
but wait! I've seen that name before....... no...... it couldn't be.........
unbelievable
#SO I'M GUESSING I OWE AN APOLOGY FOR CALLING HIM HANS JORTS THIS WHOLE TIME. BUT IN MY DEFENSE. I COULD NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT ANDREW SAID.#A Stitch In Time#Andrew J Robinson#Star Trek: Deep Space 9#of all characters in the book to name after yourself......... Mr. Robinson sir WHAT was going through your beautiful mind here........#I need to know literally everything about his writing process. I need to know the reasons behind it all. I Need To Know#also I'm probably just stupid but I still don't know what ''on another communication level'' means in this context#why would Hans doubt that Garak would be able to understand him???#Starky's original posts
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I just think itâs silly that so many people complain about Villain Amaya as âwasted potentialâ and that âwe were robbedâ like-
My pals, post canon fan fiction is right there. The desire to free her husband is right there. Either by touching an evil book while being too eager to remember the obsidian oil, or being possessed by contact (ie what she believes is true loves kiss) when trying to reason with him in the dungeon.
We donât need a rewrite, we can have a continuation. Both can be true. Amaya is a complex character, she can handle it.
#Wish#Queen Amaya#I assume I'm going to get hate for this but like#I know it's not store bought and you have to still make it yourself but also#I'm kind of just tired of seeing a lot of people sh*tting on Wish because it's not the concept art#And I'm kind of over here like how about we love it recognize it has flaws and THEN try to make something new without bashing the OG?#I just love Amaya and she definitely deserves more#but her good character is so interesting and complex#she still knows how to have fun. She still can be sassy or bite.#Like she's still Magnifico's perfect partner you know? and Magnifico isn't perfect?#A truly pure person wouldn't click with Magnifico the way Amaya does...?#I would rather build on Amaya's character than say she can only be good and boring or a villain?#Amaya is so smart yall. I know you can't see it all just on the movie but like she's read every magic book in Magnifico's library#THOUSANDS OF BOOKS.#And knows basic protection spells#She's a devoted leader.#Like.#Idk#She both loves her husband and recognizes that she has to go against him.#She doesn't /turn/ on him. She addresses his flaws and tells him that it's not okay?#She still jokes with him even though she has to put him in time out. She's complex and strong and wise and kind.#And I just hate seeing so many people so quick to just say 'the concept art was better' when like... the idea might be more appealing to yo#But I hate the level of cynicism and pretentiousness I see of people saying their personal ideas of what Wish should be-#-Is better than the piece of media they claim to care about?#Like their personal vision of Wish based exclusively off the concept art is somehow intellectually superior?#And I'm not saying stop doing your rewrites or AU's or anything! Like there's definitely beautiful creativity happening!#I just hate seeing people so negative and like honestly mean. It hurts my heart to see everyone calling Wish garbage?#It's not great but I really really dont think it's as bad as everyone is saying. Like its no like Oppenheimer but it's a children's movie..#Like I personally love the Teens and Amaya#And everyone saying they stink makes me sad... Because they're just great characters?
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kotarou maghni ai thank GOD i literally sighed an audible sigh of relief
#i was so scared. one fear. whether or not the. unsavory figure is still involved or not with ace? i uh. still will never use it regardless#because i dont do subscription only software orz#BUT MAGHNI..... HELL YES#im really intrigued by them. we havent heard a WHOLE lot but i enjoy the engine noise they have its like#somewhere between cevio's 2.0 vocoder and like some world based resamplers#and the systems look like they jack all the things i enjoy about SV and OU (voice color systems - multilingual - etc) which is what i want#all vocal synth editors to do LOL jk jk.... but not really joking at all#but im already excited to maghni this is great. i really fell for audine#she has this really sweet enunciation i really like. very beautiful in the very sugary rnb pop tune answer book#also maybe big al is gonna be there someday. hi big al <3#this rules man i was hoping voisona/cevio or MAAAYBE diffsinger because i had written off sv and maghni as options#(im not sure why. i think it was just because it was a bit of radio silence for a bit there that i wasnt sure what was going on with it)#but im glad it was maghni. im so ready. im so so ready#now i dont. totally know whats going on with them. ive always struggled following their press stuff#which im realizing now is just because the colours they chose on their website is really hard to read for me LOL#so i havent. the slightest idea of when this thang is even gonna be launched or if anyone knows a general ballpark#but i am excited nonetheless <3
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i wanted to joke about an archive of crime and punishment art but actually..
#Computer folder....#There could be a website for all i know but on average i dont think people get this way about a book#It is a neat thing to preserve. Im talking all the accessible art ever. I think its really cool!!#I still hope i have more archives of my favorite guys of the past some art was beautiful but the artists deleted either their profiles or#The art.... woahhh lost media. Just kidding.#Floyd.txt#Deviantarts crime and punishment archives.... god i hope to see 2000s emo fanart of him im so sincere#He was made for it. He was. He really was. Rip rodya you wouldve loved that.#I love art and images...#Also i know theres a 30 minute animation but im still surprised theres nothing more longform to my knowledge. WHY#I THINK ITS PERFECT FOR ANIMATION. But thats always my thoughts. Please....#I have styles in mind oh. Ohhh... maybe one day. Smile.#It will go the way of theif and the cobbler if it so must. It will be...real.#I have visions though. My ideal would be strong german expressionist influence. Caligari adjacent like Movies moreso#But the art is good. Henry Selick was a darling suggestion i think that would be lovely.#But i cannot lie to you something sylvian chomet adjacent would also work#I just think so many things would be beautiful. Ohh...oh i love to ramble guys. Hi.
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Me and my wife: *hang out for 6 hours and stay up til midnight talking about our favorite things*
My wife: *leaves to shower and go to bed*
Me, 2 minutes later: *picks up phone to text her about the new movie trailer I just watched*
#original#I LOVE MY WIFE#romance#best friends#mad sleepover energy#we talked for over 3 hours about our respective novels-in-progress & she read me a moment in hers that made me weep w how beautiful it was#like if you know the 'I want to live!!!' moment in one piece it was like that but better#we also spent the entire day in the apt together as we do most days but generally we are co-working on separate things for a lot of the day#I also came up with a GREAT idea to strengthen the themes of her story and she came up with an EXCELLENT monster for mine#it's going to be so thematically appropriate and also incredibly cool and deeply anti-military~~~~#and it gave me the opportunity to include an incredible scene for the main villain#also the new Count of Monte Cristo trailer looks dope as fuck. fucking finally an Edmond that's not a white guy!!!#there's been dozens of adaptations of the book but none of them reflect the fact that in the book he is brown!#also I liked pretty much everything else I saw about the trailer. he is unbelievably sexy he is so hot I am a gay gay person#I love my fucking wife#and I had to update her about my good friend Count Edmond and his new movie adaptation!
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