#and if he falls asleep and she winds up with his head in her lap so that she can pet his hair and keep him that way it is Completely An Acc

[hyuny-bunny]

｡⋆˚under the stars ｡⋆˚｡⋆. LK + HH

pairing: hyunho x fem!reader, hyunjin x reader, lee know x reader,

synopsis: camping with 9 people, 4 tents leaves you stuck with sharing a tent and bed with minho + hyunjin who fight for your attention

MNDI 18+: somnophilia, implied consent, thigh riding, kissing, groping, masturbation, fem!reader

part ii

---

you can't recall to anyone raising questions at the wise idea it was to plan a trip with nine people without any consideration for the sleeping arrangements. of course there was gonna be some sacrifices made considering their couldn't possibly be 9 tents available for you each to have your own space and yet you were still shocked to find only 4 tents.

minho had the made the suggestion to organize a camping trip now that you all had an upcoming week of a completely free schedule. it wasn't often you had this so who were any of you to object ? it would start as early as 4am, rounding everyone into the rental van, an ungodly amount of luggage, and 8 unruly passengers who would be bouncing off the walls once 6am rolled around. the first few hours were quite, chan was driving and minho as the designated passenger princess offering directions and company as the only other person awake at 4am.

i'm the rows of seats behind were jisung who had already found the perfect angle to his pillow pressed against the window with drool slipping past his lips. felix also laid against changbins shoulder in a similar manner, opting to use his bicep as a make shift pillow. seungmin had his head tilted back against the seat and every so often waking up like a puppy fighting sleep. jeongin stayed leaned against the window watching the passing trees and rain droplets shower the window, once he was woken up he found it hard to sleep.

then there was you, directly behind the drivers seat with your own princess sleeping on your lap. hyunjin complained that if he slept on your shoulder, it'd cramp his neck too badly to sleep. so he spread himself out across 3 seats (yours included. it was only a matter of minutes it took for him to fall asleep aided by your hands running through his hair.

minho would glance back at every so often before giving you his cat-like grin then gesturing you hit hyunjin awake, forcing you to stifle a laugh. finally arriving to the camp grounds, you were fortunate enough to find minho had found a camp ground with luxury style tenting. all the tents had been set up perfectly, cutting out the labor of setting it up yourself. along with the tents were a plethora of chairs, a man made pit for fire, along with any other necessary camping amenities for cooking and survival. it was tucked away from the roads and next to a gorgeous lake with a breath taking view.

as everyone is unloading the bags from the car, it becomes apparent that the next standing conflict is the sleeping situation. you all stand in the center, surrounded by the 4 tents while everyone argues about who has first dibs and who has to sleep with who. eventually chan is directing seungmin and jeongin to one tent, felix and changbin to another, then the dilemma. the five you stand there staring at one another.

".... i think maybe we should give her own tent?" chan is the first to speak.

"hyung you want us to dog pile in one tent with 4 of us on one bed?" jisung turns to him with his arms crossed.

"i really don't mind sharing it's just-" you begin to say but end up cut off by two voices.

"i'll do it" "i'll do it"

your turn to find hyunjin and minho staring each other down, both surprised to hear the other offer to bunk with you.

"i think she can decide for herself who she wants to sleep with- i mean ! not sleep with but share SHARE i mean share." chan speaks up flustered as jisung laughs with a shaking head.

you feel your face growing warm with the way minho and hyunjin stare down at you, ironic given how the cold wind nips at your face.

"i uh... let me see how big the room is first." you say making a bee line for the tent furthest from. you can hear hyunjin and minho muttering something to each other when you brush past them.

you take a peak inside noting the bed size, the makeshift air mattress couch. you could sleep on that right ? they can have the bed and you could have the couch. you put your bag down on the outside portion, adjusting your scarf as you approach them. jisung had already taken his bag to the other tent, deciding his input was no longer needed by whatever decision you made.

"there's a blow up couch inside, i can sleep on that and they can take the bed so..."

"you're not sleeping on the couch? minho can sleep on the couch." hyunjin slaps minho's shoulder as he says while the person in question shoots him a death glare.

"are you sure you want those two in your tent? i'm sure one of them wouldn't mind sleeping in the tent with ji and me-"

"i'll sleep on the couch! really it's no problem." you interrupt chan's objection.

you couldn't say refuse either minho or hyunjin sharing the tent. part of you wanted to bunk with both of them, another part of you took comfort in not sleeping alone. you waived chan off saying it would be okay and watched hyunjin grab his bag bolting for the tent. chan reassured that if you wanted to kick one of them out, he'd gladly help.

minho looked at you asking you if you were really sure but you reassured him that it would be alright.

"you're still not sleeping on that couch, i'll drag hyunjin out by his hair if i have to make you sleep on the bed."

"i really don't think that'll be necessary."

"i beg to differ."

the two of you walked towards the tent to find hyunjin splayed out across the bed in a starfish position staring back gleefully. he leans off the bed to grab your wrist when you approach the night stand to plug in a charger.

"you'll keep me warm tonight?" hyunjin ask's in a flirty tone but is only met with a pillow minho has swatted at him.

--

the lake was too cold to swim in but you and felix rolled up the ankles of your pants to dip just your feet in the water. the two of you collected pretty rocks before venturing off to find some twigs and branches to help start the fire for later tonight. minho being the vetted camper, had assembled and prepped everything for the barbecue. hyunjin sat perched on a rock enjoying the view of the lake and mountains surrounding. he had brought a retro camera, capturing some pictures and videos of you and felix sword fighting with twigs before seungmin killed the fun deciding to chase you with a muddy stick.

as night time approached, felix and you felt it would be best to step away from the lake, bundle up as the wind blew colder then before. for as isolated as the camp grounds was, this truly was more luxurious then most hotels. after a quick and very cold shower out door, you headed back to the tent to retrieve any and all heat that had left your body. layered in clothes sitting on the couch trying to warm up just the slightest before making the 10 ft journey to sit by the fire. minho came in taking in your shivering appearance.

"just a little cold?" he half laughs while looking in concern, you were already wearing sweats, a tank top, a long sleeve thermal, thick fluffy socks, a beanie, and the warmest/thickest sherpa jacket you owned.

"why does it look like it?" you ask through shivers. he's rummaging through a bag, he stops and pulls out a black knit sweater, extending his arm out to you.

"here, put this on." he says waiting for you to take it.

"i'm fine, ill warm up in a bit."

"please, just put it on. you're making me cold just by watching you shiver."

"but what about you? aren't you gonna be cold-" you're cut off by him walking over to you and kneeling in front. without missing a beat he pushes your jacket off the shoulders and is already bringing the open down on your head. he helps you put your arms through before pulling your hair out from the opening to readjust it.

your flustered at the gesture and truly speechless. minho had always been caring and really shows it in his actions so why should this be any less of surprise? he'd given you his jackets before when you were cold but this gesture felt more personal, romantic even. whatever it was, it made your heart swoon and your cheeks pink with blush. even as he fixes the loose hairs flying your face all you can focus on his the feel of his finger tips brushing against your face.

"better?" he asks, his eyes bore into yours before flickering down to your lips.

"yes. a lot better, thank you." you don't miss the way his ears are turning red, you can feel his breath fanning against you. fighting the urge to lean in and kiss him on the lips just for being so sweet. his hair falls over his eyes bit, you push a strand back with a feather touch that his him leaning into your hand. your hand stops momentarily on his cheek.

"what is taking so long ? i'm hungr-" the sound of hyunjin's voice cause you both to jump back a bit.

minho scrambling to his feet to grab his other jacket and head towards the entrance hyunjin stands at. you head feels dizzy at what happened, thinking about how you should've just kissed him. it's when hyunjin walks into your line of vision pull you both literally and metaphorically out of your thoughts.

"jagi sit with me! jeongin won't let me hug him so you're going to."

you don't have time to object before hyunjin has already pulled you down with him into the rocking chair loveseat. to anyone who didn't know you're friendship with hyunjin, you would've looked like a couple with the way his arm is thrown around you and pulling your legs to rest on top of his giving the ability to rock you both back and forth under the blanket. for as long as you had known hyunjin, he'd always been like this. he loved to hug, cuddle, and hold you but i guess there was no alarm bells to be rung when you noticed he didn't hold any of his other friends that were girls like this. it was clearly platonic and he felt comfortable, right?

minho and chan were grilling, you basked in the warmth of sitting next to hyunjin in the blanket. every once in a while you were reminded by the the fact that you were wearing minho's sweater since his cologne seemed to seep into the threads of the sweater. it smelled heavenly, his cologne was vanilla mixed with sweet tobacco but mixed with his own musk had your chest feeling like butterflies swarming where your heart should be. hyunjin so close to you didn't help either since he always smelled of florals and now the breeze of pine wrapped you in comfort, a state of melancholy. your nose twitched at the smell of the bbq, hyunjin clocked it giggling saying you looked like a bunny.

he retrieves a plate for you to both share and demands you feed him. his arms wrapped around your waist under the blanket, you take notice of the way minho stares down hyunjin with every bite you feed the drama queen, he only offers a smug smirk to minho. you spend some time around the fire talking, laughing, that is until seungmin decides now is the best time to start telling scary stories. unfortunately, as tough as you are about scary stories, you can't help the growing paranoia at every branch snap or twig snap. you're so engulfed in seungmins story you don't notice jisung has disappeared and is now currently crouched behind the love seat waiting to scare you.

you scream louder then you could've possibly anticipated when jisung grabs your shoulders from behind growling. hyunjin screams too pulling you closer, everyone else folds over in laughter. it only takes a moment for you to move out of hyunjins grip to chase jisung around the fire with a shoe in hand. you're only stopped by minho lifting you off your feet to keep you from further charging at jisung.

--

as the fire burns lowly, everyone begins to make their way to the beds for the night. hyunjin and minho stand outside the tent to give you privacy while you change your clothes to sleep. you shed the layers keeping a tank top, minhos sweater and boxer briefs on. no matter how cold it was you could never sleep in pants or too many layers. they both make their way back into the tent noticing you attempted to make a bed out of the couch.

"....at least let hyunjin take the couch." minho says as you turn to find them both standing in shorts and t shirts.

"i promise ill be fine to sleep on the couch."

"just sleep in the bed with us?" hyunjin says, you both turn to him. he has a look on his face that says 'isn't this the obvious option?'.

"w-wouldn't it just be uncomfortable for you two ?" you ask. the thought crossed your mind but didn't want to be too forward, you had slept next to hyunjin like this before but it would be a new thing to sleep like this with minho let alone with the both of them.

"ahh its fine. besides minho can sleep in the middle." this earns hyunjin another death glare. so it was settled. no one was sleeping on the couch and you'd be sleeping between them ? it's fine it was only gonna be for a few nights. what could possibly happen?

you slept on your side, back towards hyunjin and facing minho who laid face up. it was a bit of stirring before you felt yourself drift. hyunjin had threw his arm around your waist and minho eventually turned to his side, you were too deep in sleep to have even noticed how close you had all been squished to gather. you hadn't even noticed that minhos thigh had pushed up against you between your legs and your own between his.

the room was peacefully quite with the only sound coming from the nearby lake and crickets tucked away in the grass. minho was a light sleeper so when he heard soft whimpers coming from you, he barely peeked his eyes open. your face was a bit scrunched but nothing to worry. he took a moment to take in how beautiful you looked with moon light barely peaking in, he could just make out the features of face in the darkness. he did notice hyunjins hand on you waist had made its way under your (his) sweater just laid atop over the curve your waist on top of the tank top.

as minho begins to reach over to remove hyunjin's hand, you stir a bit letting a louder whimper fall past your lips. he's afraid he's woken you up in his attempt to pry the hands of the other off you but when he feels movement below, he realizes that your legs are interlocked. minho is about to shift when he feels your hips moving around again but this time he feels it on his thigh.

minho looks down to find that you're practicing straddling his thigh at this point. he knows if he wakes you up, you'd just feel embarrassed. he should stop you but how can he when all he can do is focus on the way your hips are subtly shifting for friction against his thigh. the same thighs he caught you drooling over on far too many occasions for him not have fantasized what dirty things must've run through your head, surely enough this very moment of you grinding your cunt against his thigh was one of them.

your whimpers are becoming more erratic with every move, he feels himself growing harder with every brush of your own thigh pressing up against his strained cock. he tried to close his eyes like he was sleeping convinced this had to be a dream. his eyes shoot open when he hears a grunt that clearly isn't yours. he finds hyunjin now pressed closer to you then before and his hand have moved from the curve of your waist to groping your tit.

hyunjin was not the heaviest sleeper so enough movement could wake him up. he tried not to lay so closely to your back as the way you slept made it nearly impossible for his own hard on to stay at bay. as he fell into a wonderful sleep, he dreamt of you. of laying closely pressed to your backside and rutting himself against while you cried out his name. when he woke to hear your actual whimpers, it turned out that his dream state began to seep into reality as he had been grinding himself into you from behind with his hand groping your covered chest. this was wrong he should stop while he still can but clearly his dreamlike state hadn't left him just yet as he kept grinding his hard cock into your bottom pulling himself closer to be flush against you.

your boob felt so soft and warm under his hand even on top of the knit sweater. hyunjin's eyes shot open when he heard your gasp. he couldn't see it but your eyes were shot open wide at the realization you had been grinding against minho's thigh, he was already staring back at you with a pained expression. your hand was clutching the fabric of minhos shirt as your movements had stopped but there was no denying the reality of the situation. the fact that you had been grinding so hard against minho's thigh, his shorts had risen up and your owner brief shorts did nothing to hide the seeping wet spot.

"minho, i-"

now wasn't the time for explainations or apologies as minho quickly decided that would be a conversation for later, stopping your sentence to kiss you. his lips were soft against yours but his kiss was anything but. unlike you, hyunjin hadn't stopped his own movements. he continued to grind against you, moving his hands under the sweater, warm soft skin against his hand as he made his way back up to your chest and pressing his forehead against your shoulder. minho held your hips in place while scooting himself closer without breaking the kiss. your hand stayed clutching the fabric of his shirt as he pressed his thigh firm against your drenched cunt and ruined panties. he slipped his tongue past your lips rewarding himself with your moans and soft cries.

as you pull back from the kiss momentarily, the reality that hyunjin had been egging this moment on hits you as you realize his hand his fondling your chest. the moment you pull back from your kiss with minho, you take in how red his lips look even in the darkness, eyes twinkling with need. its only split second before you feel hyunjin's hand pushing you back into him and his own face coming into view, lips crashing down against yours. he's quick to pinch your nipple that has you gasping, he takes the opportunity to slip his own tongue against yours and drinking in your whimpers. minho is locked into the feeling of your continued movements down below, he almost doesn't notice your hand traveling down his abdomen to his crotch. his cock is straining hard against his shorts, helping you he guides your hand to lay just on top of the fabric outlined cock where you take no time to begin stroking him over the fabric.

hyunjin pulls back from the kiss, leaving a string of saliva connecting your lips still, his attaches his lips to your neck sucking a hickey right below your ear as he feels desperate to for relief. he's picking up his pace rutting against your ass while minho goes back to guiding your hips. your cries are becoming louder as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach, your orgasm feels like wave about to crash down. you reach behind to hyunjin who his more than happy to slide your hand into his shorts guiding you to stroke him. you return the favor to minho sliding your hands down the front of his shorts earning a groan from the two of them.

blissed out on the feeling of your hand wrapped around their lengths, stroking them to their own orgasm. it only take a few strokes before their both spilling into the their shorts and painting your hands white with their cum. they both work quick to pushing you onto your back. hyunjin pulling your thighs apart and minho pushing your sweater up and over your chest. hyunjin makes good use of his fingers skidding them into the briefs gathering your slick on his fingers giving your clit a few circles before plunging one into your hole. your so warm and tight, it's everything he has ever dreamed of. his fingers are long, perfectly reaching the wet spongey spot inside that has your toes curling and crying out for more. minho on the other hand has one of your tits firmly in his grasps, massaging the warm flesh in his hand while his mouth latches on the other. he's not satisfied until your nipple has pebbled in his mouth before moving onto the next. once satisfied with their state he blows air onto them making you shiver and arch back in pleasure. he leaves a few hickeys across the top's of your breasts as to leave his mark behind, of course hyunjin shouldn't be the only one allowed to leave his mark. your orgasm is quickly approaching as hyunjin moves the heel of his palm against your clit and thrusting his finger even faster against your g spot. minho moves quick to kiss you again, capturing all your cries and moans against him as to save the rest of you from being caught by the others. your orgasm hits your hard as your legs stretch and toes curl against the mattress, body twitching as you cum down from the feeling and hyunjin's fingers ride you out through the orgasm almost leaving you too sensitive to touch.

so there the three of you laid out tired, wet, and messy. your briefs are ruined with your wetness, the other's shorts spoiled by their own cum. no one loves just laying in the silence, soft panting and small groans. minho looks over at you to find you've already drifted off to sleep, hyunjin picks up his head from the other side of you. he makes sure minho watches him bring his fingers up to his mouth before sucking and dragging them out with a quite sucking noise.

minho taking the high ground decides to ignore it to the best of his abilities getting up to change his soiled shorts, hyunjin follows suit to do the same. right as their slipping back into the bed with you centered. minho swiftly scoops the blanket and you to lay against him once more before shooting hyunjin a cocky grin.

this would only be the first mark of a very long weekend sharing a tent and bed with these two...

------

part ii

[star2fishmeg]

can I request 143 and all three hughes 🙈

Thank you for requesting <3

SCENARIO #143 Skinny dipping

📞 dialling…

ǫᴜɪɴɴ

Dipping in next to her, Quinn’s nerves swirled in his stomach, yet the excitement fizzled in his chest. He’d never felt like that since college, usually he felt a consuming level of nerves, but the addition of y/n’s bare body submerged under the water, waiting for him, just eased those fears, “Are you sure this is safe?”

The weren’t far out into the lake, just next to the dock where their clothes lie in piles with their towels. He held the ladder for support, to not only keep them afloat, but in hope to shelter them from any eyes. 

“You said you wanted to live a little before training camp, didn’t you? Well, wouldn’t this be something to cross off the bucket list?” She replied, his arm winding around her waist until he pulled her into him, chests pressed together as her arms snaked around his shoulders.

“True, I just hope our neighbours can’t see, oh god, or my family.” He buried his face into her shoulder, “I’d never live that down.”

She giggled, placing a kiss to his hair before cupping his cheeks, her thumbs caressing over his cheekbones as her legs hooked around his waist. Although unnoticeable in the dark, his face radiated a raging heat and she knew he was blushing furiously. She smiled lazily, kissing his nose.

“It’s two in the morning, Q. And we’re in water. In the dark.” She watched his lips falter, “C’mere and I’ll take care of you.”

She pressed her lips to his, a sweet kiss quickly becoming greedy when he softly moaned into her, the grip around her waist tightening and hugging their bodies closer, fingers sliding to his nape and tangling in his curls and mouths opening to welcome tongues into a languid rhythm. He licked into her mouth desperately, the guttural moan vibrated against their chests as saliva coated their lips and his hand trailed down the small of her back to grasp her ass, almost smiling when a whimper slipped past her lips.

He pulled away first, panting and pressing his forehead against hers, mumbling low, “I missed this.”

“Missed what? I kiss you all the time.” She traced circles on his shoulder with her fingertip, her nose bumping with his.

Even such a small act of passion could open the floodgates of memories, they were still young but gone were the days of dumb ideas with no consequences. If they were back in college, he knew they would have moved quickly by now, jumping into sex just for the thrill of it but where they were now was romantic paradise. The company of another was enough even if they were skinny dipping.

“Not that, being young and stupid. Like in college when we thought mixing vodka and milk and then inhaling a McDonalds was a good idea until we were just puking the whole night simultaneously in our friend’s toilet. Or that stealing shopping carts phase.” He said, eyes steadying on hers, a frenzied sparking feeling surging through his limbs.

She cocked an eyebrow, smirking, “And falling asleep while making out-” 

“-I was wasted, oh my god!” He groaned, half-amused with a twinge of embarrassment, silencing her laughter with his mouth, once again connecting their tongues to lap against each other and create the sweet sound of wet kissing to fill the void of the atmosphere.

ᴊᴀᴄᴋ

“See? Isn’t this better than whatever Trevor’s up to?” y/n grinned, swimming backwards from the dock, not too far in the pitch black of the summer’s night, the water chilling at first but gradually holding her into a warm embrace. Social media could be a pain in the ass and Jack succumbed to it, falling into a glum mood over being unable to attend Trevor’s party due to being in Michigan. 

Jack hesitantly pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it to the deck before fumbling with the ties of his jersey shorts, “Seeing you naked is better than anything, pretty girl.”

He kicked his shorts and boxers off, taking a small run up until he launched himself over the dock, cannonballing into the lake next to her and disappearing under the water. She waited for a little bit, glancing towards the house in case someone heard them at the dead of night. But they were safe. 

Jack resurfaced quietly, flipping his hair back from his forehead and winding his arm around her waist, pressing his chest into her back until his palms cupped her breasts, wet kisses smothering up her neck and drowning in her soft giggles that just made his stomach warm and fuzzy.

“You gonna move those hands or am I gonna have to pry them off me?” she leant her head back onto his shoulder, gazing up into his half-lidded eyes and feeling his lips meet hers for a slow but gentle kiss, hands kneading her breasts tenderly, boyishly, fascinated by the way they moulded to his palms.

“But your boobs make me feel better,” he murmured playfully with a smirk against her lips, before the hands in question slid down the sides of her waist, arms wrapping around her torso and the transferring of their bodies’ heat like a blanket in the chill. “I’m kidding, this is so much better than some party. I get to swim in a lake, in privacy with my girl while naked. That’s so much better, babe.”

With nothing but the crickets singing their songs, they leant their heads on each other’s, watching the moonlight cascade over the ripples and sparkle against the reflection. They missed moments like that, where it was just the two of them in each other’s company, entirely. Skinny dipping in the lake wasn’t a conventional way to spend time with someone, but if they were happy, whatever.

ʟᴜᴋᴇ

With both hands in his, Luke led y/n into the lake, both their clothes and towels piled at the bank as the cold water nipped at their bare skins and woke every goosebump to run over them. 

“Are you sure about this, Lu? What if we get caught?” she whispered, looking back at the lake house in the far distance, not a light to be seen. She wasn’t really walking, it was more letting Luke pull her into the water with him, feeling her knees submerge knowing he’d be further in. 

“Then we get caught, we’re adults, we’re allowed to do what we want, angel. It’s gonna be a good story to tell.” He lured her in further until the water covered their shoulders, the temperature freezing yet when Luke pressed her body into his, arms secured around her waist, it didn’t seem so unbearable. When she’d said she was too hot, skinny dipping wasn’t on her mind, yet her chest squished against his brought that familiar comfort she was used to in bed. 

She wound one arm around his shoulders, her other helping him tread water, noses ghosting with dilated pupils and electric urges in their chests to close the gap between them, “Lu, I don’t want anyone seeing me ass naked, that’s so embarrassing. We could have just dug out another fan.” 

“But you’re beautiful, and where’s the fun in that?” his warm lips met her cheek softly, peppering her face and travelling to her neck gradually, smiling when she broke into a hushed giggle. “I wouldn’t let anyone see you, don’t worry. You’re all mine, babe. Have you cooled down now?”

She scratched her nails lightly at the nape of his neck, in the curls that sat there and were soaked for the water’s surface, relishing in the way he tipped his head back into the feeling that left tingles over his scalp, his eyes closing, “Mmm, yeah. But this is nice.”

[phone4pills]

STREAM BABY dad!Chris x Reader

no warning for this apart from baby fever and delusion, NOT robot!Chris

Chris crept through the kitchen slowly, being careful not to wake the little girl he held against his chest, sleeping as peaceful as an unprovoked river on a summer night without wind. Her gentle breaths created a warm cast just over his heart. The same heart that had been beating the rhythm which lulled her to sleep just half an hour ago.

At first the both of them lay still on his bed, her tiny, chubby fingers gripping on his shirt loosely as Chris stared up at the ceiling, stroking her back that rose and fell with each breath. He played mindlessly with the toothpick between his teeth. She’d let out quiet whimpers in her slumber, moving her head a little so each fluffy curl on her head, resembling that of her father’s, would tickle him ever so slightly.

After a while, Matt had texted him wondering if he’d join the stream. Chris turned to see you were already asleep next to him, tucked under the covers with your eyes tight shut and lips parted a little. He made his way up to Matt’s room, in anything but a hurry, hoping incessantly that his baby girl would remain unbothered.

When he reached the door, he opened it by a crack, peeking in. Matt’s head turned to face him, instantly noticing the little life resting against his brother’s frame. His face softened, grinning and the chat exploded, questioning who may have showed up at the door. Matt held an index finger to his lips, signalling that he and Chris would have to be quiet.

Chris entered the room, taking a seat on the chair next to Matt. Comments flooded the computer screen, remarking upon the child nestled in Chris’ embrace. Matt chuckled as he read at a few messages in his more hushed voice. “Someone says ‘she has so much hair already!’”

Chris nodded, watching as Matt gave the little girl’s brown flourish a feather-handed ruffle. He smiled, glancing down at the messy hairs blanketing his daughter’s head. The two men boys sat scanning the chat for a while before playing a few rounds of Fall Guys, eventually the little girl began to stir. Her dad caressed her arm slowly, kissing the top of her head as he shushed her. Though it was no use, as her eyes opened slowly, lids fluttering. Her small fingers fisted together, raising to rub her eye. She stretched out her arms, her minuscule body scrunching and stretching against Chris’ front before she lifted her head off him for a second.

Her tired eyes glimpsed around the room, taking in the different shapes and voices, her uncle Matt, the bright screen that caused her to squint. Then her head fell back down onto Chris’ chest as she sighed. A hearty laugh racked through him at his little girl’s dramatics. “Don’t wanna say hi to chat, baby?” Chris teased, tickling the underside of her chin. She squirmed with a breathy giggle.

“Mama?” The little girl pondered. Chris shook his head. “Mama’s asleep. She’s kind of sick today.” She pouted, reaching out her nubby fingers towards her uncle. Matt took a hold of her, sitting her on his lap.

The stream continued for a couple hours before the boy got tired. Chris found himself tiredly carrying his daughter back to his room where you were still fast asleep and he placed her into her cot where she almost instantly fell asleep. Then he dropped down on the bed beside you, his wight in the mattress earning a groan from you as you turned over and buried a hand in his hair, throwing a leg over his hips. And the two of you fell asleep together, entangled like that with your daughter snoring lightly nearby.

No tag list for this :(

Had to get away from robot!Chris for a little so here’s dad!Chris instead. Thanks for reading and supporting me you guys!

- ©phone4pills

[spnbabe67]

Knee Deep In The Passenger Seat

Kinktober Day 1: Road Head (D.W)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem Original Character

Warnings: Oral (M. Receiving), slight mentions of blood, face fucking, hair gripping?, perilous situation?

Summary: What does one do when they have a free afternoon? Tori and Dean go driving. What happens when ones love language is acts of (sexual) service.

Word Count: 1510

It was rare to have a day like this. Tori couldn't remember the last time she and Dean had an afternoon that wasn't preoccupied with lore research, various repairs to the Bunker or assisting other hunters on cases ranging from basic salt and burns to exterminating whole nests of vamps. The stars had finally aligned and for the first time in a while, Tori and Dean found their afternoon wide open for leisure. So when Dean showed up at her doorway with Baby’s keys dangling from his fingers, Tori couldn't get up from her desk fast enough.

Tori had lost track of how long she and Dean had been cruising the open backroads. The only break in miles and miles of gold fields was the occasional cars. She'd fallen asleep sprawled across the front seat around the 2 hour mark, head lolled back against the windowsill, lower legs draped across Dean's thighs. 

That was where she woke some amount of time later, the leather of the seat creaking as she stretched awake. Tori felt Dean's warm hand squeeze her calf, running his calloused palms up and down her shins. She shot him a sleepy grin reaching her arms up and out the window in a languid movement.

It was an unusually chilly early fall day, so the crisp wind whipped through the car, teasing goosebumps across Tori's bare arms. Her legs were kept warm enough via her jeans and the residual heat from Dean's legs and hands, but she'd opted to wear a cutoff tank in lieu of Dean's suggestion for a sweater. Sure she was a little on the cold side, but her pride wouldn't let her accept the jacket he'd offered her on multiple occasions. 

Tori blinked sleepily at her lover, admiring the way the golden glow of the midafternoon sun clung to every topographic feature of his face, how it crested over the bridge of his nose, stippling across his 5 o’clock shadow. The wind had swept his brown locks in a way that Tori knew would feel positively divine were she to reach up and run her fingers through it like she so desperately wanted to. 

“Sleep well, my love?” God, even his voice was sexy.

Tori hummed a noncommittal answer, not bothering to hide the way her eyes dragged over Dean’s form, even when he looked over at her.

“What?” Dean laughed, eyes flashing between Tori and the road before him. 

“Nothin’” Tori grinned cheekily, ignoring the loss of warmth as she pulled her legs from Dean’s lap and under herself instead to sit cross-legged next to him. “I can't admire my sexy ass boyfriend?”

Dean laughed sheepishly and Tori watched the telltale rosy hue stain his cheekbones. “I didn’t say that.”

Tori carded her fingers through his hair, letting her nails gently scratch his scalp, the strands extra fluffy from his shower that morning. Dean’s hum of contentedness reached her ears and Tori felt the rush of satisfaction at pleasing her lover. Speaking of which… Tori glanced sidelong out the windshield seeing nothing but open road, a devious idea flooding her brain. With a smirk, Tori leaned forward, pressing an open mouthed kiss to Dean's neck, her hand in his hair continuing its movements.  

Tori felt Dean go stiff and liquid all at once, hearing the creak of the leather as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Tor,” Dean began, her name half warning half moan. “Whatcha doin babe.”

Tori didn’t deign to reply, simply smiling against his neck as she kissed the spot beneath his ear, her lips trailing south. Her teeth nipped at his pulsepoint, sucking a dark mark against his tan skin. Somewhere along the way Dean had tipped his head to the side, providing her better access. Tori let her free hand that had been resting on Dean’s chest wander down, feeling the soft skin that laid taut over the muscles of his torso until she arrived at the button of his jeans. That was when Dean’s hand shot to hers, encompassing her wrist and hindering any further movement. 

“Tori.” Dean scolded her half convincingly, his voice breathy, chest rising and falling shallowly. 

“Do you trust me?” Tori whispered into his ear, lips caressing the shell as she shook off his grasp. “‘Cause I trust you.”

Dean didn’t make any further moves to stop her as Tori expertly undid the button of his jeans, sliding her hand between the fabric and his feverish skin. Dean’s gasp as Tori’s hand wrapped around his length shot heat directly to her core. He was already half hard beneath her grasp as she ran her hand up and down his length before pulling him free from his boxers. Tori spared a glance upward as she shimmied herself backwards, bracing one knee on the footwell, the other stretched out under her as she lay on her stomach. His eyes were laser focused on the road, his hands locked in death grips on the wheel. His bottom lip was raw from the abuse of his teeth gnawing on it, likewise his cheeks were flushed pink. 

Tori felt the car swerve sharply as her tongue made contact with the swollen red tip of Dean’s cock. She knew it was mean to torture him, kitten licking at the top of his dick, the tang of precum soaking into her tongue. Dean made a desperate sound at the back of his throat as Tori’s hand lazily pumped up and down his shaft as her tongue worked the head of his cock, dipping into the slit at the apex and tracing every contour. His hand shot to the back of her head, fisting in her hair as without warning Tori let his cock slide along her tongue and into her mouth. 

Expletives spewed from her lover's mouth in the form of a guttural moan as her mouth engulfed his cock, feeling the fat head of it nudge the back of her throat. Dean’s grip in her hair loosened, rubbing the back of her head in small circles, a silent apology for his accidental roughness. Tori languidly bobbed her head up and down on his length, utilizing her hand slick with her spit for whatever her mouth couldn’t quite take in. Tori could feel her own arousal soak into her underwear, her clit throbbing almost in time to the grunts and groans slipping past Dean’s lips. Tori gagged slightly as Dean's hips snapped up slightly, chasing her mouth wrapped around him. She blinked back tears, her free hand digging into his thigh to steady herself. She half wondered if she could cum just like this, with her lover's cock shoved down her throat, his big hand tangled in her hair guiding her head up and down; it wouldn’t be the first time she’d gotten off pleasing Dean.

Dean’s hips thrusted up to meet her as she willed her throat to relax, gradually taking almost all of him past her lips. Tori couldn’t help but moan as Dean gave a particularly harsh tug on her hair, sending vibrations down his shaft that had him uttering a low moan. Every so often the car would snap back to center, shifting Tori ever so slightly. Just as Tori felt her jaw start to become sore, the steady rhythm of Dean’s thrusts into her mouth stuttered, his rhythm becoming sloppy, his hand more forceful on the back of her head. Tori let him fuck her face, feeling tears slip down her cheeks as she resisted the urge to gag against his cock bumping against the back of her throat.

Dean’s hips stuttered violently as he came with a ragged moan down her throat. Tori tried to swallow all his spend but some frothed out the side of her mouth as she pulled off of him. She went to wipe the residual cum off her face but before she could Dean’s hand still tangled in her hair guided her back up, slamming her lips to his own. Tori barely registered Dean driving the Impala off to the side of the road, slamming Baby into park before hauling her into his lap. His tongue assaulted her mouth, tasting himself on her tongue. His hands massaged her hips through her jeans, kissing her harshly like he had wanted to since she started on his neck. 

He pulled back only on the lack of oxygen, both of them breathing heavily. Dean reached up caressing Tori’s cheek as he gazed at her, a soft look etched across his face. Tori’s eyes scanned his face, her own hand coming up to cup his jaw, thumb dragging across his lower lip where he’d dug his teeth in hard enough to draw blood. “What?”

“Nothin’,” Dean smiled at her tipping his head into her hand, his grip on her waist holding her to him. “I can’t admire my sexy ass girlfriend.”

Tori giggled at his words mimicking hers, leaning in to kiss the wound on his lip. “I love you.” She murmured into his mouth. Dean’s answering kiss was all she needed.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 21 - Some Things You Just Can't Speak About

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: I think it’s high time I admit I accidentally gave Her a praise kink and both of them size kinks. Oops. That’s my bad y’all. Chapter Title from epiphany by Taylor Swift

Word Count: 30k (so long I had to combine paragraphs...)

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Everyone takes steps forward, and a few back. Usual warnings, with extra alerts on the smut. Just so much smut.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, pining

Read on A03!

Chapter 20 - Chapter 22

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Ben hadn’t even been that fucking tired, but his eyes had somehow closed and his brain that had been supposed to stay alert—focused on Her, her safety and every shifting movement she made against him—became glossed over and lulled into a haze by Her. In his arms, tucked into his body, with her breath hot against his skin and her heartbeat slow and steady in his ears. Safe and home, smiling slightly in her sleep and holding onto his shirt in the dark. Ben loved her, and when she’d hooked one leg over Ben’s hips and given a content sigh in her sleep he’d almost exploded. She was perfect, and clinging to him like he might vanish from her hands, and he’d made the mistake of kissing her brow.

She’d leaned into it. In deep sleep, without a single fucking thought about it, she’d pushed herself up Ben’s chest and made a small, happy humming sound that shattered all of Ben’s will and vigilance because it was just Her. So peaceful and calm, sleeping in Ben’s arms like nightmares weren’t even something to fucking consider. It was contagious. She’d used that stupid flower shampoo—it was better on Her than Ben, stronger and more potent—and her hands were still as her heartbeat rolled through him like a drug. Pulling Ben down, down, down without a fight, because she was in his arms and everything was right.

When Ben woke up, it was easy. Eyes pulling themselves open because he was rested, and the pillow against his face had blocked out all the light of morning pushing into the room. He’d rolled over in his sleep, but She wasn’t under him or at his side. There was a weight on his back that felt like Hers, and a soft sound of a piano that they didn’t own surrounding Ben’s head that Her voice floated over, smooth and controlled, brighter and warmer than the sunlight on Ben’s face when he turned his head. The whole room smelled like honey, and Ben could feel a soft wind coming from nowhere. He made a low sound—against his fucking will—and the music stopped.

“Hi,” Her voice was near his ear, and one of her arms was resting on his shoulders. She was on top of Ben, sprawled across his body with her legs half-straddling him and half-tanged in his, her hand fucking petting Ben’s hair. She was trying to fucking kill him. “You’re up.”

“Fucking obviously,” he muttered, and She just laughed into his neck. A light, joyful sound that made Ben’s whole body relax and his mouth twitch up. “Why are you sitting on me.”

Her hand trailed down the back of Ben’s head, resting on his neck. “You’re comfortable.”

“We’re on a goddamn bed-“

She leaned up, kissing Ben’s cheek with a small hum, and rolled off his body, onto the mattress beside him. Ben’s arms flew out to catch Her, stop her from getting too far away or falling off of the damn bed, and when her perfect, beautiful face landed in his view, she was smiling.

“Grumpy-“

Ben yanked Her forward, back against his body where she fit so fucking well, and kissed the small yelp out of her mouth. Let Her moan into his throat as he sat up against the headboard, pulling her with him until she was in his lap and was falling right onto his chest. Where she was fucking made to be. But, even as he fucking ate Her, Ben kept vigilant attention to her every movement and reaction. Every shift of her hips and small sound that escaped her throat when he squeezed her waist that drew them closer and closer to Ben having to stop, to reaching that unspoken limit of what he could take and take and take and give, and having to pull back so She could make that choice for him. 

She ground down on Ben once with a breathless moan, and froze. Dropped Her head down to his chest and sighed, resting against him with nothing more. She was going to apologize. She was going to try and fucking apologize to Ben for this—he recognized that small, sad sigh that meant she was going to be sorry—and he didn’t want it. He didn’t want Her to keep apologizing for everything, to keep thinking Ben gave a shit what they were doing or not doing when he had Her back. All that fucking mattered was that she was here and safe, and if Ben had to be a celibate fucking monk pussy for the rest of his life so be it. She’d be there, and Ben loved Her, and that was enough. He wished he could just tell Her he loved her, and make her understand that if she said sorry for this again, Ben would lose his fucking mind.

But he couldn’t. Not now, not when She wasn’t ready. When she was ready Ben would make Her whine and moan and do whatever the fuck she asked him to. He might die on his knees for Her, just to try and make her get it. Finally fucking believe that She was the most important thing in the universe, and Ben was lucky she was just sharing oxygen with him. That he fucking loved Her, and she should never apologize to him. He would rather eat a goddamn bullet than have her think she ever needed to apologize to him. So he spoke before She could even try to.

“You were singing.”

She tilted her head up, watching Ben with a frown. “What?” 

“Before I woke up,” he grunted, pulling Her a little higher up his chest. He wanted her closer, as close as she’d fucking allow. “You were singing.” 

“Yeah, I,” She sighed, and her arms moved up to wrap around Ben’s neck. “I just wanted to see what I could do. If I’d regressed.” 

Ben paused, examining Her sad expression, her soft words echoing in his head. “You didn’t sing at Vought.” 

“No,” She shook her head. “They never even mentioned it. I don’t think they forgot, Sage wouldn’t forget. Homelander-“ She made a small, pained sound with the name, and that was enough of that fucking shit. “He-“ 

Ben kissed her, gentle and soft until she sighed and her nails stopped digging into his skin. When he pulled back—She was so fucking perfect, swollen lips parted and pretty eyes watching him—Ben said Her name, firm and slow. “Tell me what you were singing.”

She blinked. “But-“ 

“No.” Ben glared at Her, and she swallowed her own words. “Tell me about your fucking song, or shut the hell up.” 

“Rude.” Her words were mumbled, but lighter. No strain in her voice, the pure fucking sadness in her eyes fading when she looked at Ben. “You’re not the boss of me, Benjamin, you can’t tell me what to do.”

He snorted. “You don’t even listen to your real boss, Sunshine. I don’t think that would change a single goddamn thing.”

“Well-“

“And,” Ben leaned down, bumping his nose with hers. “I don’t need to be your boss to tell you what to do. You like it when I order you around.” 

Her face was flushed, breathing heavy against Ben’s mouth, and she was so fucking perfect. “Fuck you.” 

He winked. “That’s the idea.” 

“Horny old man.”

“It’s all for you, beautiful.” He kissed her nose, and she made a small, high sound that was going to make Ben cum in his pants like a teenager. “Tell me about your music, or admit you get turned on when I tell you what to do.”

“You can’t fucking prove that I-“

“Don’t need to.” Ben pulled back, grinning down at Her. “I know how fucking wet you get when I throw you around, or make you beg.”

“Ben-“

“If it helps,” he grabbed Her chin gently, holding her gaze to his. “I think it’s fucking hot when you tell me what to do.”

She swallowed, chewing on her mouth as she watched Ben with wide eyes. “You do?”

What he wanted to say was don’t be dumb, Sunshine, of course I fucking do. You get all bossy and loud, and it makes me want to throw you against a wall to see just how loud I can get you. It makes me fucking love you more, because you’re not afraid of me and trust that I’ll listen to you. Because you never fucking waver, and I love you, and I think you should keep telling me what to do for the rest of fucking time, because that means you’re with me for the rest of fucking time and I can fuck you and make you so goddamn happy and I love you. I fucking love you, and you’re a brat who thinks she knows everything, but you actually do and it’s so fucking hot. And I love you. But He can’t say that. Not now.

“I do.” Ben smirked at Her, running his thumb over her lower lip. “Just like you it when I tell you how beautiful you are, and tell you to say my name, and how good you are-“

She made a strangled sound, and something flashed through Ben’s body. Some sort of feeling that was consuming and vast and powerful, that rushed through him before being almost yanked away. She’d leaned back, away from Ben, and this was the line he had to walk. He didn’t fucking understand it, why She’d let him say almost every filthy thought he had aloud, why she’d let Ben tell her all the ways he wanted to fuck her, but wouldn’t allow him to just do it. Just fuck Her smart as shit brain empty and blissful, let Ben make her feel good like she deserved. Why when she peeled off of his body she did it like it was impossible, why she kept looking at Ben with a fucking want and adoration but wouldn’t just tell him what to do to help. He wanted to fucking help her, make this better for her, and she wouldn’t tell him how.

All he could do was stay, and wait, and keep finding that exact line between making Her smile and happy and heartbeat steady, and telling her he fucking loved her and having her moan into his throat while he fucked her until she was good. Ben didn’t want Her to be okay or fine, she needed to be goddamn good. Nobody deserved to be fucking good like she did. To feel as desired as Ben desired her, to have someone love them like Ben loved her. He’d do anything for her. The longer she was near him to more certain Ben became that he’d do fucking anything for her. Which was why he had to wait. He had to file away how She’d looked at him when he’d called her good and try to ignore his boner—making a poor attempt to shift it away from Her thigh—and just wait. She wanted him, Ben knew she wanted him, and now all he had to do was wait.

“I’m-“

“Music,” Ben snapped, because she wasn’t fucking apologizing to him. She’d stayed on the bed— leaning into Ben’s side with her head buried in his shoulder—and there wasn’t a single reason she needed to apologize. “Tell me about your music.”

“It’s not interesting,” Her voice was muffled against Ben’s body, breath warm on his skin. “I was just practicing. I don’t even really remember what I was singing-“

Ben knew what she’d been singing. It was one of the songs he’d tried to learn while she was gone, but had been so slow and long and tedious so he’d given the fuck up and moved onto something with a goddamn beat. And when he grunted the answer for Her, she looked up at him with narrow eyes. 

“How did you know?” 

“You’ve sung it before,” he muttered. “I pay attention, Sunshine-” 

“And I’ve never sung that one.” She shuffled up, onto her knees, until her eyes were level with Ben’s. “Truth, Benjamin. Now.”

“That was-“ 

“Nope.” She shook her head. “It wasn’t.” 

Ben scowled. This shouldn’t be so hard to tell Her. He’d missed her, she knew he’d missed her, and it wasn’t a big fucking deal. She might tease him, but she always teased him. And she wouldn’t figure out Ben loved her just from this. He wouldn’t lose his chance to tell Her the right way—holding her perfect face in his hands, when there was nothing to interrupt them or try to separate them, when Ben could fuck her immediately after—because there wasn’t a chance something this stupid would give him away.

“I listened to your music while you were gone.”

“Oh.”

“I missed you.” He grunted, trying to figure out if that was a confused oh, or a turned on oh, or a I’ve figured out you love me, Benjamin oh. “And I was bored as fucking balls. I listened to all your stupid songs, and that was one of them. It’s not-“

“Ben,” Her voice was a whisper, and her whole face was soft. Looking at Ben with that adoration in her eyes, tugging on his arm until his words trailed off. “I missed you too.”

“I fucking know that-“

“No,” She shook her head, hands running mindlessly up and down Ben’s skin. “I really, really missed you. And I’m-“

“Don’t say sorry,” Ben glared at her. “If you say sorry, I’ll never kiss you again.” 

She scoffed. “Fuck off, Pretty Boy. We both know that’s not true.” 

It was. Ben would probably die if he never kissed her again. But he wasn’t losing this argument. “You don’t want to take that bet, Sunshine.” 

“Yeah, I do.” 

“Someone’s real fucking sure of herself-“ 

“Well,” She grinned, smug and perfect and Ben fucking loved her. “It’s hard not to be when I just had Soldier Boy say he listened to music because he missed me-“

“I told you not to fucking call me that,” Ben leaned forwards, letting their lips brush, savoring how her words died with the pretty flush of Her face. “And of course I missed you.” I fucking love you. “Nobody else moans my name quite like you do. Brat.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “You’re such an asshole.”

“You fucking love it.”

She was silent, watching Ben like he was everything but with something heavy in her eyes. Mouth a small pout Ben couldn’t understand for his goddamn life. She’d looked at him like this before, and Ben never fucking understood what it meant. If it was just lust—her eyes were blown out, and Her heart was fast—or that adoration, or want or need or fucking what-

“I do,” She sighed softy, and Ben was fucking confused. “You’re a cunt, but I do.” 

He grunted Her name, because she needed to stop looking at Ben like that or he’d tell her he loved her. If She kept staring at Ben with her hands warm on his arm and that small smile on her mouth that he couldn’t understand, Ben would damn any consequence or repercussion and say he loved Her. 

“You didn’t have any nightmares.”

Ben blinked at Her, word dying in his throat. “What.”

“You were asleep for hours,” She tilted her head at him. “No nightmares.”

“What the fuck does that matter.” 

“You said they were getting worse. I can start working on your PTSD again-“ 

“No.” Ben’s words were fast, firm, and rough. He hadn’t had a fucking nightmare last night, he’d slept like a goddamn baby, but She was with him, so everything was fine. And even if it wasn’t, Annie’s words kept fucking rattling around in his head. Don’t hurt her. “I’ve got a grip on it.”

“But-“

He said Her name, moving up to kiss her brow and hum words against her skin. “This isn’t your fucking problem. I’ve got it.”

“I want to help-“

“I know,” he sighed, because of course She did. Stupid fucking perfect and kind woman. “But I’ve fucking got it handled.”

She nodded slowly, rising higher on her knees until they were level once more. “Promise?” 

“Swear it.” 

“You’ll keep,” She swallowed. “You’ll keep sleeping in bed with me? Even with the nightmares?”

“Do you want me to.” 

“Yes-“

“Then I will.” Ben shrugged, because it was that fucking simple. She wanted him here, this was where he would be. He still thought it was a dumb as shit idea—she needed to be able to always sleep peacefully, never be worried about Ben’s nightmares of blood waking her up—but he’d still stay. If all he could do was stay, he’d stay. “But you don’t get to waste time on my shell shock.”

“It’s not wasting time,” She frowned. “It helps you.” 

“I’m fine, Sunshine.” 

“But-“ 

“No.” Ben moved a hand into Her hair, stopping the frantic shake of her head. “I keep sleeping in the bed, you don’t work on the shell shock. Deal?” 

She sighed. “Deal.” 

Ben grinned, and kissed her once. It was long, biting her lip and running his tongue along the roof of her mouth, going until she was breathless and slack against his body. They probably had to fucking move, Ben could see the sun higher in the sky, and they both had shit to do. Soon, Butcher would start barging into their bedroom and demanding they attended the team meeting, and Ben was not going to allow that shit. This version of Her—where she molded perfectly against him and smiled at him so easily—was sacred, and Butcher wasn’t allowed to see. Nobody was allowed to see it but Ben, because she only showed it to him and he’d protect that with his goddamn life. So—in a display of restraint and sheer fucking willpower that should earn Ben some sort of medal—he pulled back. Ben gave Her one last tug of her lip between his teeth, sat in the needy sound that left her throat, and grinned down at her perfect, relaxed face. “Hungry?”

She nodded, and made a soft, heady sound that made Ben’s brain a little fucking foggy.

“Up,” he grunted, wrapping his arms around Her hauling her up his chest. “Let’s move.”

“What time-“

“Late.” He muttered. “And we need to eat before the meeting.”

“The meeting?” She frowned, arms tensing where they still rested around Ben’s neck. “What meeting?”

“Team meeting. At noon. It’s-“

“At noon?” She whacked his shoulder, and Ben tried to keep his gaze locked ahead as he stood, feeling Her glare burning into him. “Benjamin, why didn’t you fucking tell me-“

“I forgot,” he snapped. “I got fucking distracted, you’re just as much to blame-“

“Oh, fuck you.” Ben made the mistake of glaring down at Her, finding her sticking her tongue out at him and having to fight the urge to toss her back onto the bed and keep Her there forever. “I didn’t know. You did.”

“Well, if you hadn’t fucking sat on me, I wouldn’t have gotten off track and we’d have been downstairs a goddamn hour ago.”

“If you weren’t such a horny old cunt,” She grinned at him, kissing his neck and trying to fucking kill him. “You’d have been able to remember to do your job.”

“Brat.” He scowled into the air, trying to ignore how her pretty giggle rolled through his body, and she was trailing up to him jaw and driving him fucking insane. “I am doing my goddamn job, and we’re not fucking late to anything yet-”

“Yet,” She hummed. “I think you almost completely forgot. I think your memory is going-“

“My memory,” Ben found a better grip on Her body, using one arm to support her legs wrapped around his body and allowing the other to reach up and tug her face away from him, forcing Her to meet his eyes. “Is goddamn fine. You’re just a fucking needy, beautiful distraction.” He paused at the bottom of the stairs, watching her mouth fall open and smirking at the small whine that escaped her. He wasn’t even fucking touching Her. “But next time, I’ll just ignore you. I won’t suck your pretty face, or make you feel good. Is that what you fucking want?”

He’s won. She’s scoffing and rolling her eyes, squirming out of Ben’s grip, and he’s finally won one of these stupid things with words.

“Shut up.”

“No, you fucking said I should do my job, Sunshine, so next time you climb on me, I’ll throw you off and leave-“

She shoved his chest, pulling away from Ben’s arm trying to steady her feet. “Fuck you.”

“I won’t, not it if you don’t admit-“

She pulled his head down, kissing him like he was water and she’d been lost in the desert for years. Ben understood that, because he’d nearly fucking died of starvation while she’d been gone. He hadn’t even been hungry before her, he’d felt satisfied and been completely fucking satiated, then he’d gotten her and now he’d crave her for the rest of goddamn time. She was fucking perfect, and Ben loved Her, and when she kissed him like this he had to growl against her and dive down to make Her whine so he didn’t say it. He could say it. She was kissing Ben like he was everything and maybe, if he said it now, She’d just keep going. She’d smile at him and say Benjamin, I love you too, and he’d tell Her I love you more, Sunshine. You’re so goddamn perfect, and I love you so fucking much. It’s not possible for you to love me more than I love you, because nobody’s ever loved anyone like I love you. You drive me goddamn insane, and I’m going to fuck you until you get that. Got it? 

Ben almost heard her response, breathless in his ear even as she moaned into his mouth. Got it. But I love you more.

The feeling was back. For a split second something flashed like lightning through Ben’s body, setting him on fire before vanishing. She pulled her mouth away and took a small step back, and all Ben could do was stare at her and bite his tongue so he didn’t say it. She’d moved away again, she wasn’t ready, and Ben couldn’t say it.

“We should get ready,” she mumbled, staring intently at Ben’s chest. Not meeting his eyes. “It’s 11:30.”

“You need to eat-“ 

“I’ll go get dressed,” she glanced over her shoulder, frowning at the kitchen. “And you make some food? I don’t know what we have-“

“I can do it,” Ben muttered, taking a careful step toward Her. Another when she looked up at him and didn’t move away. “Sandwich?”

She nodded. “That sounds good. Do you want your phone?”

Ben grunted in agreement, and she smiled at him.

“Thank you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

She took a small step, standing right before Ben without actually just fucking touching him. His back went straight, his whole body tensing as he waited. She’d tell him what she wanted, and this was fucking killing him but he’d let her. He wouldn’t pick her up and eat her out on the dining room table, or slam her back into the wall and make her cum on his fingers like before. He had to wait, and it was worth it. All she did was smile at him with teeth and pure goddamn joy on her face, reaching up and kissing Ben’s cheek, and Christ on a fucking cross it was worth more than anything in the world. He didn’t breathe until She pulled back, didn’t do anything but watch Her and swallow down a shout of I love you, I fucking love you, do that again because I fucking love you and it’s better than any fucking high or rush as she turned and walked back up the stairs.

Ben made Her a sandwich and coffee—stupid goddamn love was turning him into a pussy and he couldn’t even bring himself to give a fuck—and caught his phone when she reappeared over on the loft strip, leaning over the railing and chucking it at his face.

“Jesus fucking christ, woman-“

She scoffed. “Don’t be a baby, Benjamin, you caught it. You’ve got a text from Butcher.”

Ben frowned down at his phone, where William Butcher; asshole, bother as much as possible, 3 Messages was displaying in a small banner on his lock screen. When he looked back up She was already gone back into the bedroom—Ben could hear her shuffling around, hear drawers opening and fabrics shifting, and had to actively fight the image of her naked out of his head—so he returned his attention to his phone and read Butcher’s texts.

William Butcher; asshole, bother as much as possible

Mallory said she’s been cleared, so you both better be at the meeting

Ryan will meet you both in the gym after

You two twats need to stop reunion fucking long enough to get to the dining hall

Nobody had told Ben they had a gym. He’d been here for four fucking months, and not once had anyone said they had a gym. He’d have to yell at Butcher about that later though, because she was walking back down the stairs, frowning at him and glancing at the phone in his hand.

“Everything good?”

He gave a tight nod, looking Her up and down. She was dressed—that was Ben’s fucking shirt—and her fingers were tapping at her side. “What’s wrong.”

“Nothing-“

Ben said Her name flatly, narrowing his eyes and holding her gaze. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m fine, Ben.” She sighed. “Will Ryan be there? At the meeting?”

“After. We’re meeting him in the gym.” Ben frowned, hearing Her heartbeat stumble. “If you don’t want to-“

“No!” She shook her head, eyes widening. “I want to, I do. I’m just, what if he doesn’t like me? Then what?”

He loved Her. Her eyes on Ben’s were so soft and concerned and Ben fucking loved Her. He took one long step across the room, pulling her up into his chest and holding Her perfect face between his hands, kissing Her until that worried little frown vanished and was replaced by an open mouth for Ben to mutter into.

“Stop being fucking insane.” 

She pushed his chest, but didn’t try to pull away. “Fucking rude-“

“I’ve already told you,” he grunted Her name, and her hands loosened on his shirt. “The Kid likes you.”

“You don’t know that-“

“I do.” Ben moved back, glaring at Her. “I’ve fucking talked to him about it, and he wouldn’t stop asking about you. Asking to meet you. He’s going to like you just fine, because he’s not a goddamn idiot.”

She swallowed. “You’ve really talked to him about me?”

Ben needed to learn when to shut the fuck up. His inability to not just tell Her everything he did and everything he thought didn’t bode well for keeping the fact that he loved her a secret. “I told you I did, and I’m not a fucking-” 

“Liar pussy, I know.” She was grinning again, and her eyes were sharp, so Ben decided however she was about to fucking tease him for this was worth it. “You didn’t say what you told him.” 

“I don’t remember.” That wasn’t a lie. Ben couldn’t fucking remember exactly what he’d told the Kid, because the Kid had asked a fuck ton of questions and Ben had answered all of them. He genuinely didn’t know what he had and hadn’t told the Kid. “But he already likes you. So don’t lose your damn mind worrying about it.”

“Okay.” Her voice was a whisper, and Ben kissed the top of Her head.

“You’re good.”

“I’m good.” She pulled back, tilting her head at Ben. “Did you say gym?”

“Butcher said we’re meeting the Kid there after the meeting.”

“Huh.” She frowned. “I didn’t know we had a gym.”

Ben snorted. Fucking Christ he loved Her. “They don’t tell us fucking shit, Sunshine.” He kissed the space between her eyes, light and soft and because he fucking could, and forced himself to step away. “I’m going to get changed. Eat.”

She wrinkled her perfect nose at him. “I was going to, don’t tell me what to do-“

“You like it.” 

“Fuck you.”

Ben winked, starting to walk past Her to the stairs. “You’d like that as well, wouldn’t you.”

She flipped him off, stalking to the kitchen, and Ben laughed. Really, fully laughed, feeling his goddamn cheeks hurt from grinning at Her. He fucking loved Her, and he’d missed so many goddamn things about Her—Her beautiful face, her pretty smile, her big words and smart fucking mouth, the sounds she made when Ben touched her—but he’d mostly just missed Her. The way that everything was good when she was there. How Ben could laugh and it felt so fucking simple to do so, because She was there and it would be a goddamn crime to keep joy from her. The whole fucking apartment looked better with her in it. It wasn’t big, barely three fucking rooms, but Ben hadn’t even realized how hollow it had felt without her presence filling it up. Her heartbeat echoing around it, her soft cursing when she dropped something, her tapping on the surface of the table as she ate. The light leaking in through the windows was a little brighter, everything smelled like Her again, and when Ben opened the drawers of their dresser Her clothes had moved. Because she was home to move them.

Ben changed fast, and managed to get downstairs right before the clock hit noon. She was waiting for him at the door, arms crossed, glaring at him as he walked to meet her.

“We’re going to be late, Benjamin.”

“What the hell are you talking about, it’s noon right now-“

“The meeting is at noon, dummy.” She linked Her arm through Ben’s, tugging him into the hall. “We’re supposed to be there already.”

“They can’t fucking start without us-“

“Exactly,” she gave him a flat look over her shoulder. “So walk faster, Pretty Boy. And you’re taking all the blame when we get there.”

Ben’s glower and eye roll was a complete fucking performance. She was touching him and talking to him, so he’d do whatever she told him to. He’d take the blame—Mallory could suck his fucking dick if they got shit for being five minutes late—and if She was really upset about being late, Ben would make it up to her later. He’d steal her some chocolate, or watch a movie with her, or tell her about all the shows he’d watched while she’d been gone until she smiled at him. Then he’d eat her face until she moaned. He’d probably do all of that shit anyway, but she never needed to know that.

Everyone was waiting for them, giving them varying levels of dirty looks when they walked into the dining hall. Mallory seemed to be the only one truly pissed, because MM’s glower was probably about respecting people’s motherfucking time and Butcher’s was lined with a smug amusement at Ben being pulled behind Her like a fucking dog. A-Train looked nervous—Ben was a little fucking shocked he was even here—and The French Prick, Kimiko, Annie, and Hughie just looked happy to see Her. Everyone should always be happy to see Her, so Ben wasn’t going to award them any points for that. He would appreciate Kimiko standing up and crossing the room, though, signing shit Ben didn’t understand that made her smile. Point against Kimiko, She had to fucking let go of Ben to respond. Point back to Kimiko, they hugged. Without hesitation, Kimiko hugged Her, and that was what made Ben give the woman a small nod when they pulled apart.

“Look who finally managed to pull his bloody dick out-“

“Butcher,” Annie sighed. “Can you save the sex stuff for after the meeting? Please?”

Butcher looked like he was going to argue, but Mallory snapped over him.

“We’re working, William. Save the personal talk for your own time.”

“We fuckin live here,” Butcher muttered. “Ain’t no difference between our work hours and personal hours.”

“Well this is work,” Mallory’s glare turned to Her and Ben. “And I expect professionalism.”

Ben scowled, slinging his arm over Her shoulders as they walked to the table. “We’re not fucking in front of you, so shove it up your damn ass, lady.”

“You’re late-“

“By five damn minutes,” Ben snapped, dropping on the end of the bench, keeping her at his side. Fighting the instinct to hide Her from Mallory’s tight lips and angry eyes, because she’d want to handle herself and Ben wasn’t interested in her kicking his ass right now. “We’re not delaying fucking shit anymore, that’s all you.”

Mallory looked them up and down, eyes narrowing. “Next time, I expect you both to be five minutes early.”

Ben shrugged. “Make this worth our fucking time.”

“Mallory,” She injected, and Ben looked down to find her leaning forward, elbows on the table. “We’re sorry, but can we please just get started?”

“Fine.” Mallory crossed her arms, shooting Ben one last sneering glare. “We’ll start with new developments. Campbell, updates on the V?”

“Um,” Hughie glanced around the table. “There aren’t any. I’ve been going through all the shell companies, but half of them were dissolved. Two weeks ago, actually.”

“What about the offshore accounts?” A-Train frowned. “I gave a shit ton of them, Hughie, you should’ve been able to find something.”

“No, I shouldn’t have.” Hughie was actually glaring. Ben had never seen him glare. He looked like a damn angry mouse. “All of them were emptied into the shell companies, then the shell companies were dissolved.”

MM ran a hand over his beard, shaking his head. “That money didn’t just fucking vanish, Hughie. They put it somewhere.”

“I know, I just can’t find where-“

“Keep at it, Lad, you’ll come through.” Ben gave Hughie a nod, and Hughie leaned back with a sad look at Annie. “MM, any progress on Sacramento?” 

“I reached out to my contact at the FDA, but they said that the port worked with pasteurized produce, not narcotics.”

“That was the cover,” A-Train muttered. “We were supposed to keep it off the feds radar. There’s V there, I swear-“

Butcher scoffed. “Just like you bloody swore ‘bout Atlanta?”

“Sage must have gotten there first-“

Ben felt a tug at his arm, and looked down to find Her frowning up at him. What’s going on?

We’ve been looking for the V. A-Train gave us a long as fuck list of locations and shit, but none of them worked.

She nodded slowly. What about the FDA? Or Military?

Ben blinked at Her. What.

After everyone found out about V, didn’t the government confiscate like, a shit ton of it?

I don’t fucking know, I was in Russia.

And I was underground. She gave Ben a flat look. I read about it, Pretty Boy. You could’ve as well.

Why would I read when I can just have you tell me everything? He winked, and She stuck her tongue out at him.

Cunt.

Brat. Ben glanced up, and everyone was still fucking talking about Atlanta. Tell them about the FDA. 

She gave a small shake of her head. I don’t think Mallory will like it. 

Mallory can go fuck herself with the stick up her ass. Tell them.

She sighed, and raised Her hand. When nobody noticed, Ben gave an aggressive cough that turned everyone’s eyes to them.

“What the fuck was that, are you sick-“

“I can’t get sick, dumb-fuck.” Ben cut MM off with a glare. “We’ve got an idea.”

“We?” She elbowed Ben’s ribs. “Who’s we, Benjamin?”

Ben scowled, and She just grinned at him. “Fucking Christ, she has a plan.”

“Well will you cunts stop bloody eye-fuckin and tell us?”

“We weren’t eye fucking Butcher. And it’s,” She sighed, fingers tapping on the table. “I’m not sure about it.”

“It’s better than nothing,” MM sighed Her name. “What do you got.”

“When I got out, I read about the V scandal.” She frowned, and Ben knew she was thinking, picking out all the right words to convince them. “I also read that a large amount of V was confiscated by the FDA, and the Department of Defense was granted a warrant by Congress to take some for ‘studies’,” She made small air quotes, looking around the table. “Sage probably has people in the Pentagon, but it would be harder for her to make V that’s under federal control vanish.”

“What, exactly, are you implying?” Mallory’s voice was cold, and She swallowed.

“MM has a contact at the FDA. We could ask if they still have any V.” She sighed. “Or we could meet with Singer? He kind of owes us, after Nueman-“ 

“The President doesn’t owe you anything.” Mallory snapped, and Ben’s vision went a little red as She gave a small nod. “Vought has international locations, it’s unlikely Sage has been able to flush all of them out-“ 

“This isn’t a horrible idea, Grace.” MM was watching Her, brows knit. “It’s a sure fucking bet, and a hell of a lot safer than raiding a Vought warehouse. I can reach out again, see what they’ve got for us.“ 

“It wouldn’t hurt to ask Singer either,” Annie added, nodding slowly. “Worst he says is no, right?”

Mallory’s lips somehow got fucking thinner. “We are not wasting his time-“

“It ain’t wastin’ time if he’s got what we’re fuckin lookin for.” Butcher drawled. “And if he do, we’ll all take turns suckin him off as a thank you.”

Hughie blinked. “I, uh, I don’t want to do that-“

“I’m not sucking anyone off, Butcher, you can shove that right up your ass-“

“Bloody hell,” Butcher rolled his eyes, cutting MM and Hughie off. “Frenchie will, then.”

The French Prick shrugged. “For America, of course.”

“Me and you, Mate, are the only cunts committed to the safety of this bleedin country, and we ain’t even citizens-“

“Butcher,” Annie sighed. “On topic, please.”

“Fuckin party pooper, ain’t you Starlight.” Annie’s scowl deepened as Butcher turned away. “MM, reach out to the FDA again. Grace, it ain’t gonna kill Singer or destroy America for him to meet with us for a bloody hour.”

“William-“

“If you don’t, I will.” Butcher’s eyes narrowed at Mallory. “I’ll even send Soldier Boy ‘ere to drag ‘im by the ear. We’re runnin out of options, now ain’t the time to be picky.”

Ben didn’t even bother to tell Butcher to shove it up his ass and stop giving orders. He would drag Singer by the ear, what the fuck could that pussy do to him anyway? 

Mallory scowled, looking around the table and seeing the determined, set faces all siding with Her plan. Apparently Ben wasn’t surrounded by complete fucking idiots.

“Fine. Let’s move on to the next item on the agenda,” Mallory’s gaze rested on Her, saying Her name in a clipped voice. “Have you checked the news today?”

“No,” She mumbled, fingers tapping faster. “But I don’t have a phone to check it with.”

Mallory frowned, but gave a tight nod. “In that case, I recommend you pay attention. Marvin?”

MM leaned forward. Giving Her an apologetic look that made Ben’s skin crawl.

“Homelander gave an address.”

Her heart picked up, and her hand shot up to Ben’s arm around her shoulders, smoke rising against his skin. “What,” Ben pressed his thigh to hers, and she took a steadying breath. “What did he say?”

“I’m not fucking sure how to-“ MM cut himself off, pulled out his phone, and slid it across the table with a sigh. “I think it’s best if you see for yourself.”

It was a news article. A video playing of Homelander behind a podium with a sad, weak fucking pussy expression as he addressed the camera. Sage was standing behind him, with her face neutral and bored. The audio was off, but Ben didn’t even really fucking notice it. He read the headline above the video, and clenched his jaw so hard his teeth might have shattered. 

Homelander Accuses CIA of Kidnapping Fiancée, Anomaly

Ben read the word once. Twice. A third time just to certain he wasn’t going fucking insane. Fiancée. Homelander’s Fiancée.

“What the fuck is this.” He growled, not addressing anyone in particular. Pulling Her further into his side, running his fingers in small circles on the skin of her shoulder as her heart picked up faster and faster. Her breathing was mechanical, and it was making Ben cold. She looked so fucking afraid and Ben’s whole body was cold. He felt fucking sick, and between Her every breath he could almost hear her voice going no. No, no, no. “Someone better start talking, right goddamn now-“

“It’s Sage’s move,” She whispered, staring at the table and shaking her head. “She’s giving herself jus ad bellum. I should’ve known. I should’ve seen it coming.”

Hughie frowned. “Pretend that some of us don’t know what jus ad bellum is-”

“Right of war,” MM muttered. “Justification for further escalation. But how the hell would you have seen this shit coming?” MM said Her name, nodding at the screen. “It’s an insane gamble, even for Sage-“ 

“No, it’s not.” She looked up slowly, taking a long, unsteady breath that made Ben’s heart move into his throat. “It’s what she’s been planning. She knew I’d escape-” 

“How?” Hughie leaned around Annie to look at Her, titling his head. “Sorry, I mean, how could she have known? Wouldn’t she have tried to stop you-”

“No, that sounds like Sage,” A-Train shook his head with a sigh. “That bitch plays 4-D chess, you won’t understand why she does something until it’s too late and it’s paid off for her.”

She nodded. “She told me a week ago I was going to propose to Homelander on TV, as a surprise. And if I didn’t, She’d-” Her eyes flicked up to Ben, and she swallowed. “Hurt people. She knew I wouldn’t, she knew I’d escape. I think I surprised her by telling Homelander I was going to marry him, though-“

Butcher gaped at Her, voicing Ben’s almost exact thoughts. “You fuckin what-“

“I needed him away from Vought. It worked, and it might be the only thing Sage didn’t anticipate. She probably thought I’d just run, and Homelander would give up on me.”

“No more hang ups,” MM muttered. “No more dealing with his obsession and erratic outbursts about you.” 

“Exactly.” She swallowed. “But I told him I’d marry him, and now he probably just thinks I was taken from him again. So her move is to back us into a corner. We say I left of my own volition, and we’re ignoring the gravity of the situation. We admit I’m here, it’s because you took me.”

“What if we just ignore it?” Annie’s suggestion was hesitant. She didn’t even fucking believe in it herself. “Don’t even respond-“

“We have to respond,” She gave Annie a small, sad smile. “I’m too important to this now. I made myself important, and Sage doubled down on that. If the CIA doesn’t put out some sort of statement, Sage will say silence is complicity.”

“You got any ideas?” MM glanced at Ben, giving him a small nod. “Soldier Boy said you were working on something-“ 

“I was,” She whispered. “But I didn’t plan for this. I don’t-“ 

“We’ll figure it out,” Ben grunted, unable to stand the slightly strangled sound of Her words. “They haven’t fucking won, Sunshine, we’ll figure it out.” 

She nodded, and when she leaned into his side Ben didn’t feel quite as cold anymore. “I know. I mean, I could try to distance myself-“

“That ain’t gonna fuckin work, Love.” Butcher muttered. “You’re America’s bloody Valentine, don’t matter what you say or do.”

“Butcher’s right,” Annie gestured between herself, A-Train, and—after a moment of hesitation—Ben. “We all know, these things get away from you. You’re more of a symbol, whatever people want to hear, they will.”

“What if,” She was chewing on her cheek, frowning ahead at nothing, and Ben knew she was about to say something fucking insane. “Everyone keeping in mind that there are no bad ideas in brainstorming, what if I kill myself?”

Fucking Christ.

“I think,” Hughie swallowed. “I think there might be bad ideas in brainstorming.”

“Just, listen-“

“No,” Ben snapped, trying to ignore the drums sounding far away. “Shut the fuck up, you’re not doing that.”

“I wouldn’t actually kill myself, Ben.” She leaned forwards, starting to talk far too fucking fast for how Ben’s heart was still pounding in his ears. “I mean, I can’t. But I need to be out of the picture, and this way you can say Homelander drove me to it-“ She cut herself off, frowning at nothing. “No. Wait.”

The room was silent, and Ben could fucking hear Her thinking. Hear her brain running through scenarios, her voice in his head going Sage will twist that. Say it’s a CIA cover up. It needs to be something she can twist, but not well. Not a red herring for our intentions or where I might be, but a placeholder. Make it static, make it ready for when we need it. Any attacks need to be easily deniable, implied, unactionable. Any response from Vought has to be suspicious, otherwise we’re just exposed. And I can’t be dead. That was stupid. If I’m dead, I’m too far removed, and it’s permanent. But I still can’t be here, that’s too easy for Sage to say I’m being held hostage. It won’t matter what I say myself, Annie’s right about that, so I need to be-

“I’m missing,” She said, and Ben blinked. That was aloud. “I’m just missing. Nobody knows where I am, and I’m certainly not here. The CIA is working to recover me, but you don’t have any leads. I left New York, and I’m missing, and,” she paused, tilting her head. “You’re praying for my safety.”

Mallory frowned. “Is that all you have? Just push the problem away-”

“No,” She was smiling, and it was manic and feral and a little fucking hot. A lot fucking hot. She had an idea, and it was one Ben could probably get behind, and she was fucking hot. “In the statement, say you’re not sure what happened, that it’s truly just a bipartisan tragedy, and mention that you’re not sure how it all got away from Vought. No matter what, I was in their care. That’s two people who Homelander cares about, Ryan Butcher and I, who have just vanished. You can’t say it’s because Homelander hurt me, but you can allude to it. You can say it’s so heartbreaking that I disappeared right after we got engaged. How odd.”

“It’s a non action,” MM nodded, watching Her carefully. “Walk the line. Keep Homelander going full fucking human genocide, dwindle supporters, bide time.”

She nodded. “Exactly. The CIA can’t be on the record with the rest, people won’t trust it.”

“The rest?” Butcher narrowed his eyes, looking between Her and Ben, as if Ben had a fucking clue what she was talking about. “There ain’t much more-“

“There’s more,” She took a deep breath, smile wavering slightly and falling into a determined, set look. “It’s time to tell the truth.”

“What fuckin’ truth.”

“About me,” She swallowed. “The truth about me. A few hours after the CIA’s statement, Annie’s going to tell the truth about me. And exposé on Vought, out of necessity. That I didn’t want people to know, but now I’m missing and people need to be aware.” 

“How much of the truth?” Hughie rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head at nothing. “Like, what you’ve been doing with us? Or-“

“All of it,” She mumbled. “My real identity. What Homelander did. All my powers, how I broke out, how I’ve been working with you guys, with Ben, how Homelander took me. All of it.”

“Why not have the CIA make these accusations?” The French Prick frowned. “Make them official, or believable.”

“They need to be unofficial. We can’t incite legal action, there’s no telling what Homelander will do.” She sighed. “People will either go all in on the Homelander train, or finally realize what he is. His more powerful supporters, senators and representative and military officials, will want to distance themselves. It will slow him down from government power, and Sage will latch onto this. She’ll point out how there’s not any evidence, because technically it’s just speculation and I’m not here to testify. But it has to be the whole truth. And it has to be Annie.” She gave Annie an apologetic grimace. “Sorry.”

“I’m okay with it,” Annie shook her head, giving Her a nervous look. “Are you? It’s going to be a lot-“

“I know. I’m ready.”

She was fucking lying. Ben knew she was fucking lying. Her voice was too steady, she was half on-top of him, and all her movements were mechanical. The picture perfect image of someone who was okay, the one she presented right before she collapsed, screaming in Ben’s arms.

He didn’t get a chance to call Her fucking shit, though, because behind them the dining hall door creaked open and half the table jumped up with their guns pointed at the intruder, Ben taking a large step to block Her from view.

The Kid yelped. “It’s just me! It’s Ryan Butcher! Don’t shoot!”

“Blood hell, Ryan,” Butcher glared at the Kid as everyone’s guns lowered, Ben not missing Mallory’s glower at him as he tucked his own back into his pants. “I told you to fuckin wait-“ 

“It’s 1:30,” the Kid mumbled, glancing at Ben. “They were supposed to meet me at 1:15, I just got nervous-“

Butcher frowned. “I told you they’d be there at 1:45.”

The Kid shook his head. “1:15. It’s okay, I can wait, I just wanted to make sure nobody had, um, forgotten.”

Ben felt bad. He hadn’t fucking done anything, but the Kid looked so fucking sad and now Ben felt like a piece of shit. It didn’t help when She bumped his arm, and he turned to find Her watching him with pretty, hopeful fucking eyes.

Can we go now, Ben? The meeting’s kind of over, and Ryan’s already here. We don’t even know where the gym is, and he can show us.

It was fucking amusing she was phasing it as a question. If she’d said Ben, we’re going now, it would have had the exact same goddamn effect. They were going, now.

“Wait outside, Kid, we’ll be there.” Ben looked up, glaring around the table. “Anyone got a fucking problem with that?”

“This meeting is not over-“

“Yeah, it is.” Ben snapped, holding Mallory’s glare. “You’ve got a plan, we’re done.”

Malloy crossed her arms. “I still have yet to receive a debrief about Vought Tower-”

“I don’t have much to say about it, Mallory,” She mumbled, sounding fucking guilty. “I mean, I was a hostage. You don’t tell hostage’s your evil plans for world domination.”

“Is that her?” The Kid piped up, still at the door, not in the hall like Ben had defiantly fucking ordered him to be. Looking at Ben with a small, nervous expression and wide eyes. “She’s still coming with us, right?”

“Yes,” Ben pointed at the door. “Hall.”

She was moving behind him. Ben could hear the scrape of the bench and the slight pick up of Her heart that meant she was standing up, and when he turned she was glaring up at him, pressed between his body and the table.

“Move, Benjamin.”

He scowled at Her, but couldn’t find a reason to even justify to himself keeping her hidden—The Kid wouldn’t hurt her, and moving himself over her had been more instinct than anything—and stepped to the side.

Ben was certain the Kid was going to like Her. She was perfect, everyone should like her, and people who didn’t were shit-headed dumb fucks. The Kid wasn’t a shit-headed dumb fuck. He was a fucking nerd, and talked all polite, but so did She. The Kid would like Her, and it didn’t really fucking matter if he didn’t because nothing was riding on this. Ben alone loved her enough to power the Eastern Seaboard, one random child not understanding how fucking amazing She was wouldn’t do any harm to anything. But Ben still felt something taut in his throat and around his lungs. It mattered to Her. Ben could feel Her hand warming up on his arm—starting to sear and smoke against his skin—and this felt like it mattered. She’d given her whole fucking life for the Kid, and Ben seemed to have somehow found himself important to the Kid’s life, and this might matter.

They were just fucking staring at each other. Everyone else was staring at them—even Mallory had dropped any protests—and this did matter. These two people needed to like each other. She needed to walk away from this with clear eyes and an easy smile, and the Kid needed to understand that She’d scarified to make him safe and—if Ben knew her, which he fucking did, better than anyone—would probably do it again. Then they’d both stop apologizing for their fucking existence, and whatever was choking Ben and tightening his fists would die a sad, withering death. If they didn’t start fucking moving, Ben was going to pick Her up and carry her over-

“Hi,” Her voice wasn’t a whisper, but it was quiet, gentle, unsteady. That was Her for once I don’t know what to say voice. “It’s, um, it’s nice to meet you, Ryan, I’m-“

She’d barely said her own name before the Kid was running across the room, slamming her into a tight hug. She froze, face slightly panicked—everyone in the room tensing but not launching forward to pull them apart—but when she looked down at the Kid it shifted. Became almost disbelieving, mouth parting into a small smile, eyes growing soft. 

Whatever she was feeling from the Kid, whatever was making her so relaxed, was good. She hugged the Kid back, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and holding tight, and she squeezed the Kid once in a way that Ben knew meant reassurance. The Kid liked Her—Ben had fucking known it, and now he’d get to rub that in her perfect face later—and she looked like she might cry. If she did start crying, Ben was going to have to push the rest of the team out of the dining hall so she could do it in peace. He wasn’t even sure why they were still fucking here, this was for Her and the Kid.

Butcher coughed, and Ben was going to rip out his throat. “Ryan, try not to crush the lady. She ain’t made of steel.”

“I’m fine,” She mumbled, shooting Butcher a glare over her shoulder. “And I’d live if he did.”

The Kid pulled back, looking up at Her with an admiration that Ben understood. She was admirable, she was fucking amazing.

“I, I won’t hurt you?”

“You can’t,” She shrugged, not peeling herself from the hug. “I have a regenerative healing factor.” She looked up, frowning at the group. “Did nobody tell you that?”

“They did!” The Kid shook his head, still watching Her. “But you’re not invulnerable-“

“No, but I’d live.”

The Kid nodded slowly. “Do you still feel pain?”

“Yeah,” She sighed. “I do. But you can’t control your strength, and I’d be okay.” She gave the Kid a smile, easy and content and real, and Ben fucking loved Her. She was so fucking kind and good. “It’s really nice to meet you, Ryan. I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

“Me too,” the Kid was smiling back, because when She smiled you’d have to be fucking insane not to smile back. “I mean, I’ve also heard about you.”

“We all have,” Butcher grumbled, still watching Her and the Kid with careful eyes. “Soldier Boy wouldn’t shut his fuckin’ cake-hole-”

“Butcher,” MM sighed. “Don’t be a bitter motherfucker and ruin the nice moment.” 

Butcher rolled his eyes, but shut his mouth. Smart move, because Ben was about to rip out his fucking tongue.

“What,” the Kid looked nervous, and Ben was starting to worry he might crush Her. “What have you heard about me?”

She huffed a small laugh. “A lot. Butcher over there’s a fucking hypocrite, because the first three months I knew him it was just Ryan’s a good kid. Smart kid. Bloody good kid.”

Ben had to cough to cover a snort, and Butcher scowled.

“That ain’t my fuckin’ voice-“

The Kid leaned around Her. “Did you really call me a good kid?”

Butcher shot Her a glare, and she returned it with a sickly sweet smile. “Yes.”

The Kid pulled away from Her, and walked over to give Butcher a hug. An awkward, tight hug that made Butcher freeze before returning it. “Thank you.”

“You’re like your mother, Ryan.” Butcher grunted. “Course you’re a good kid.”

She was smiling at them, and Ben fucking loved Her. He had to turn the words into walking back to her side and slinging his arm over her shoulder, kissing the top of her head and grinning at her when she smiled up at him. Fucking perfect. The whole world was better when she was here, because the Kid had been with them for months and Ben hadn’t actually seen him and Butcher hug. But she made everything good, because she was a goddamn miracle worker. She was a miracle herself, and Ben fucking loved Her.

“You got some trainin’ to do with Soldier Boy, Ryan.” Butcher was giving the Kid tense pat on the back, but not trying to pull back. “Better get started.”

“William-“

“Stuff it, Grace. It ain’t like they’re all gonna fuckin vanish, like I said we live here. Just go knock on the horny cunt’s doors later.” 

“It’s okay,” the Kid pulled back, frowning. “I can wait if you have work to do-“

“We don’t,” Ben snapped, glaring at Mallory in a silent challenge, pulling Her closer into his side. “We’re fucking done with this shit, let’s go.”

The Kid looked at Butcher, who nodded, then Her. “Are you coming with us?”

“For a little bit, sure,” She glanced at Ben, and he gave a tight nod. Of course She was fucking coming with them, if it was up to Ben she’d go everywhere with him. “I might have to leave early, to help Annie with some stuff, but I can sit in on the start.”

Annie shrugged. “We won’t need you for the, uh,” she glanced at the Kid. “Thing. But if you want-“

“No, I need to be there. It needs to all be accurate, Sage will exploit any fallacies. Just text-“ She cut herself off with a sigh. “Ben, I guess. And I’ll head back here.”

“We’ll get you a new phone,” Hughie said Her name, giving her a reassuring smile. “They’re not that expensive, and you need one. I can work on that.”

Butcher frowned. “You worry about the V, Lad. Frenchie-“

“I will take care of it, petite Hughie. I can even find a discount from my suppliers.”

She blinked at the French Prick. “Frenchie, please don’t get me a crime phone.” 

The French Prick shrugged. “Beggars cannot be choosers-“ Kimiko whacked his arm and signed something that made the French Prick sigh. “Fine. I will not get a crime phone.”

“Thank you.” She glanced around the group, then up at Ben. “Ready?”

Ben nodded, looking at the Kid. “Let’s fucking move, Buddy.”

The Kid started to walk over to them, and Ben felt Her elbow his side. When he frowned down at Her, she was grinning.

Buddy?

Ben rolled his eyes. What the fuck is wrong with calling him buddy.

Call him his name, Benjamin.

Why.

Because you shouldn’t call real people buddy. I call bad drivers buddy. I call my brother buddy. 

Your brother is a real fucking person.

She shrugged. But I also call him by his name. Buddy is what I say when I’m doing an impression of a 1920s Chicago mobsters, not talking to someone.

Ben scoffed. Well your impressions are fucking terrible.

I’m sorry you can’t appreciate my talent, Pretty Boy. 

I can appreciate a lot of shit about you, Sunshine. Ben winked at Her. And you’ve got a fuck ton of talent. Your impressions are still horrible. 

She wrinkled her nose at him. Rude.

Yep. Ben kissed the top of Her head, turning as Ryan stopped in front of them, looking him up and down. “You think you can move in jeans?”

He frowned. “Yes?”

“Then let’s get a fucking move on.”

They gave a few nods to the team before leaving—Mallory still looking like a sour bitch—and Ryan led the way to the gym. This place was a lot fucking bigger than Ben had thought, but exploring hadn’t really been high on his priority list. Later—if the amazed expression on Her face as they walked through the halls was any clue—She’d probably pull them around to see every damn inch of this place, and Ben would gladly follow her. As long as She kept looking so fucking relaxed like she did now, a step ahead of Ben, walking at Ryan’s side.

“Do you like biology?” Ryan had been asking Her question after question, She’d been answering them all in the same genuine, serious tone—no matter how fucking stupid they were—and Ben had been watching, biting his tongue until he drew blood so he didn’t accidentally yell that he loved Her.

“I think it’s interesting,” She shrugged. “But I’m not great at science. I’m passible at it, but it’s never been something I excel at.”

Ben rolled his eyes at nothing, because she was fucking good at science. Her benchmark of passible was just way too damn high, because she was genius.

“You can do biology manipulation, right?” Ryan’s voice was almost goddamn bouncy. “That’s one of your powers?”

“I’m not sure,” Ben could hear the thoughtful frown on Her face. “It’s a working theory, but I’ve never really had my powers fully assessed. I didn’t even really know how to use them properly until a few months ago.”

Ben tried not to be too fucking proud of that. How She gave him a small smile over her shoulder at the words, how she was better at talking about and using her powers because of Ben. He’d done that for her. He’d made Her happy and comfortable, and now that was permanent.

Ryan followed Her gaze at Ben. “Did Soldier Boy teach you too?”

“Teach me as well-“ She stopped in her tracks, and Ben nearly slammed into her back.

“Goddamnit-“ Ben started to grunt out Her name, but she whipped around with a glare at Ben that told him he was in trouble. He hadn’t even fucking done anything-

“Why is he calling you Soldier Boy?”

Ben swallowed, glancing at a wide-eyed Ryan. “I don’t fucking know-“

“Don’t get mad at him, it’s what everyone calls him-“

She raised a hand, and Ryan cut himself off, giving Ben a nervous look.

“Benjamin.” Her eyes were narrowed at him, her voice smooth and firm, and fuck She was hot. Ben probably shouldn’t want to pick her up and fuck her against the wall as much as he did right now, but Christ she was so perfect, even when she looked like she was going to kill him. What did you promise me.

He frowned. I have been fucking nice to him. A name isn’t a big deal.

Yes, it is. She glanced at Ryan, then back at Ben. He doesn’t really have anyone, Ben. He has you and Butcher. Soldier Boy isn’t you, it’s the guy who tried to kill him.

He’s forgiven me for that, Sunshine. And what the hell else is he supposed to call me, because he’s sure as shit not using grandpa.

She gave him a small smile. He could call you your name?

Ben scowled. Smartass.

She’s won, and she knows it, because Her smile grows into a wide grin. Thank you.

Shut the fuck up. Ben turned back to Ryan, who was looking between them with wide eyes. “Fine.”

“Um-“

“You can call me Ben, kid. That’s it.”

Ryan nodded slowly, his facing turning a little brighter as he looked up at Her with nervous smile that she returned—less nervous, more encouraging—and Ben was going to fucking lose his mind.

When they arrived at the gym—a full fucking gym, Ben was going to yell at Butcher and Hughie later about a pamphlet or fucking something to tell people how big this place was—Ryan led them over to a large mat, and She grabbed Ben’s phone from his pocket and dropped near the wall with her legs crossed.

“Are you not,” Ryan glanced between them. “Are you not training with us?”

She sighed, shaking her head. “My powers are a little, um, different. My training is different.”

“But you said-“

“I did train her,” Ben grunted, walking over to Her to hand her the rest of the shit in his pockets. “It’s not the same as what we’re going to do.”

She leaned around Ben’s legs as she talked to Ryan. “I’m not strong like you and Ben. When I punch someone it’s really not that effective.”

“Fuck ton more effective than when we started,” Ben muttered, and she stuck Her tongue out at him.

“It’s your fire, right?” Ryan asked, and Ben could hear him shifting on his feet. “That you use to fight?”

She nodded, tilting her head. “What do you know about my powers?”

“Um, fire?” Ryan mumbled. “You said you can heal, like Kimiko. Right?”

“Kind of like Kimiko,” She hummed. “But Kimiko still ages. I don’t.”

“Why?”

“Ben and I,” She patted Ben’s leg, leaning forward to hang off his body, and Ben had to remind himself job. Job to do. Kid in the room and job to do. “Have the same V. Old V, more unstable, makes you immortal. That’s why he’s an ancient grumpy fuck that looks like that.”

“That?” Ben scowled at Her. “What the fuck is that?”

She grinned at him. “A Pretty Boy.” 

He rolled his eyes. Brat.

Ryan coughed, and Her gaze returned to behind Ben. “You have that V because of my dad, right?”

His voice was so fucking sad. Weak and sad and nervous, and Ben didn’t know how to handle it.

She did. She was fucking perfect, so she did. She was watching Ryan carefully, words gentle. Honest and clear, but gentle. “Yes. I do. But don’t blame yourself. Homelander did it, not you,”

“But he’s my dad-“

“But you didn’t do anything.” She squeezed Ben’s leg, and his hand dropped to run through her hair. Let her handle this, never let her think she’s alone. “You aren’t responsible for his actions.”

“I’m still sorry-“

“It’s not your fault, Ryan.” Her voice was gentle, even as her nails dug into Ben’s calf. “None of this is your fault. Homelander deserves the blame, don’t take it for him.”

Ryan made a small sound, and Ben glanced back to see him looking at his feet. “I still feel bad.”

“I know,” She was smiling that soft, sad smile that meant she was being kind and forgiving and good. “Trust me, I know. But it’s not your fault.”

Ben gently tugged on Her hair, just enough for her attention to turn up to him.

What?

You should take your own fucking advice, Sunshine.

She wrinkled Her nose at him. Fuck you.

Ben grinned, and didn’t even bother to tell Her I would like to. As soon as you say the word, before it’s even out of your pretty fucking mouth, I’m carrying you home and fucking you until you scream. I’m going to fucking worship you, beautiful. Fucking ruin you. You’re going to beg and whine and moan and cum, and I’m going to fuck you until you’re dizzy. You’re going to smile at me, and I’m going to fucking cum from it, and we’re not going to leave the bed for a hundred years. I love you, and you’re going to goddamn get that when I fuck you the way you deserve. All he did—right now, when she wasn’t ready and didn’t know he loved her, when Ryan was still in the room with them—was lean over and pull her up to Her knees and kiss her, sloppy and deep. Going until she made a small sound only Ben could hear, and he drew back up to his full height.

She stared at Ben with a slack expression, and even Her glare of Cunt sounded breathless.

Ben winked. Brat. And turned back to Ryan, walking to meet him on the mat. “Let's get started, Kid. Show me what you’ve got.”

Ryan was fucking strong. It barely took ten minutes for Ben to understand that Ryan was strong. Not quite as strong as Homelander or Ben himself, but with a little practice, he could be. Fuck, with maybe five years of solid, consistent work Ryan would fly past both of them. They started by just trying to find the limit, but ran out of weights and started adding equipment from around the gym. Eventually, at about 85 tons, Ryan looked a little nervous and they moved on. He had to control it, and Ben was sure not to pussyfoot around the fact that Ryan’s strength was dangerous, real dangerous, but controllable.

“Do you think I’ll be able to?” Ryan was fidgeting with his hands, looking nervously between Her and Ben. “I’m not sure-“

“You will.” Ben snapped. “That’s what my fucking job is. You do yours and listen- Fuck!”

She’d thrown a plastic bottle at his head. Ben didn’t even fucking know where She’d gotten a plastic bottle, but while he and Ryan had been testing Ryan’s limit she’d wandered the gym, and Ben wouldn’t put it past certain fucking members of their team not to clean up after themselves.

“It’ll take time,” She didn’t even look at Ben as he glared at her, flipping him off behind Her back where Ryan couldn’t see. “But you will, Ryan. You’ll get there.”

Ben scowled. “That’s exactly what I said-“ 

“I was being encouraging.” She wrinkled her nose at him “You were being a grump.”

Ben just scoffed, and returned his attention to Ryan as she sat back against the wall, fingers tapping on the back of Ben’s phone. It was only a half hour later the screen lit up with a buzz, and She was called away. Ryan gave Her another tight hug, and Ben kissed the space between her eyes, muttering against her skin.

“You don’t fucking have to go. Annie knows everything.”

She sighed. “I do, Ben. This has to be done right. I’ll be okay.”

Ben didn’t believe Her. She didn’t believe her. Her hands were curled against his chest, and her heart was unsteady and stumbling, and Ben knew she was nervous. “Just stay the hell here-“

“No,” She pulled back, reaching up to give Ben one last, light kiss. “I’ll see you tonight, Pretty Boy. Play nice.”

He wanted to tug Her back. There was something hollow forming in her eyes when she pulled away from him, and Ben wanted to just yell I love you. I know you’re going to do this no matter what I tell you, because you never fucking listen go me, so just do it knowing I love you.

But she was gone, and Ben was left alone with Ryan, starting to feel fucking sick. Love was making him a desperate, whining pussy who felt nauseous when She was gone. And he still didn’t fucking care.

“I forgot to say thank you,” Ryan mumbled, and Ben frowned at him. “I meant to tell her thank you for getting me out-“

“She knows,” Ben grunted. “Trust me, she fucking knows.” 

“Do you think she liked me?”

Ben snorted. “Yes. And she’s not fucking gone, she’s still on this same damn floor.” Those words were more for him. Ben trying to convince himself that she was barely a three minute walk away. That he was feeling worse and worse by the second, that something was sitting like a weight on his chest the longer she was gone, but if he was really that fucking pathetic without Her he could just go find her. She wasn’t gone, and she was fine.

They kept training. Ben tested Ryan’s grip strength, trying to see what could and couldn’t be crushed by accident in a hand, and made a note to tell MM they needed metal cups. Kimiko and Annie would sure as fuck appreciate it as well, and it would be a good placeholder until Ryan was better at controlling himself. From there Ben dragged out some mock targets—boxing bags that he drew large X’s on—and they worked on heat vision. Using it at will, trying not make the bags just immediately fucking explode.

And Ben still felt fucking sick. It was still getting worse and worse as the afternoon crept on, until suddenly it was gone. Fully vanished into thin air around dinner time, right when he and Ryan were wrapping up.

“Solid work, kid.” Ben muttered, giving up almost immediately on trying to rearrange and clean up the gym. MM would have a grand fucking time doing it himself later, and Ben didn’t have any interest in being told he’d done it wrong. “Here, next week, same time.”

“Thanks,” Ryan mumbled, and Ben nodded, picking his phone up off the floor. “Ben?”

He grunted, frowning up at Ryan’s nervous expression and waiting for him to continue.

“Are you going to dinner?”

“Maybe.” Ben sighed. “We’ve got some shit to deal with, but we’ll try.”

“We?” Ryan said Her name, watching Ben carefully. “Um, she’ll be there too?”

“As well,” Ben muttered, smiling to himself. “And if I’m there, yeah. She will be.”

Ryan nodded, and didn’t push further. They walked in silence back to the dining hall—which was fucking empty—and continued until they reached Butcher’s apartment. Ben knocked, loud in case Butcher tried to fucking ignore it, and the door opened almost immediately. 

“Oi, Gov, ain’t not reason to fuckin break it.”

Ben scowled. “Looks fine to me. We’re done.”

Butcher turned to Ryan. “Good session? Worth bloody houndin me about?”

Ryan nodded, eager and sincere, and Ben felt something warm and prideful flare in his chest. “I hit the target.”

“The target.” Butcher repeated, glancing at Ben. “What target.” 

“We worked on his laser eyes,” Ben grunted. “Can’t have him exploding the fucking building.”

“And I hit the target.” Ryan’s chest was puffed out, and Ben sighed.

“And he hit the damn target.”

“Well then, bloody good work, lad. Let’s get you in a fuckin shower, you smell like ass.” Butcher gesture for Ryan to enter the apartment, but Ryan turned to Ben and pulled him into a fucking hug.

“Thank you, Ben.”

Ben didn’t know what to do. The kid was squeezing his torso, and thanking him, and he was frozen, staring at Butcher. Butcher didn’t seem to know what the fuck to do either, but his glower at Ben a little too shocked for Ben to just push Ryan away. He didn’t want to push Ryan away, it felt fucking wrong to push Ryan away. Her words echoed in Ben’s head—he doesn’t really have anyone, Ben. He has you and Butcher—and Ben hugged Ryan back. It was tense, awkward, and weird, but Ryan didn’t seem to care. He just hugged Ben tighter before stepping back and disappearing into the apartment. Leaving Ben and Butcher staring at each other in the doorway, Butcher’s face looking as confused as Ben fucking felt. 

Butcher spoke first.

“Don’t fuck this up,” his glare on Ben wasn’t hateful, it was weary. “That kid don’t got much. Don’t give him hope then fuckin turn away.”

Ben narrowed his eyes. “Shut the fuck up. I know what the hell I’m doing.”

Butcher didn’t waver. “I guess we’ll bloody see if you do. But know that if you drop the fuckin grandpa ball-”

“Call me grandpa again and I’ll fucking twist you like a pretzel and shove your dick in your mouth.”

“I ain’t joking-”

“I won’t fuck him up.” Ben grunted Her name. “She’d kick my damn ass if I did.”

Butcher sighed. “You seen her?” 

Something tugged at Ben’s heart. “No. Why, what’s fucking wrong-“ 

“It’s been a real rough fuckin afternoon, Gov.” Butcher shook his head. “You should go find your woman.”

“Is she-“

“She’s okay. The media is full of cunts, and she’s on the blunt end of it now.” Butcher looked Ben up and down, face twisting into something tired and tight. “I’d just fuckin go. She might well need you.”

Ben didn’t bother with goodbyes, or even wait for the door to fully fucking close before he was tearing down the hall to their apartment. Butcher said she was okay, but everyone kept fucking telling Ben she was okay when she clearly fucking wasn’t. He seemed to be the only pussy in the whole goddamn world who had eyes, who was capable of hearing her say I’m okay and noticing how her smile wasn’t full and her eyes were too fucking empty for it to be true. Nobody seemed fucking worried about Her but Ben. Seemed to even think that maybe the was just a slim goddamn chance that after being kidnapped—fucking again—She wasn’t okay.

He pulled out his phone as he all but ran. The media was full of cunts, full of worthless fucking pussies whose jobs were make everyone’s life fucking hell. Full of idiots saying Annie was a liar, or speculating about Her life. Her real life. Her job and original address. If she’d asked Homelander to make her a supe, gone to that Vought party to stalk him. Why she’d left Her mother’s house so young, if it was really a coincidence that her step-father was a public figure, or if this had been engineered. Everyone had fucking something to say, and all of it was dogshit. Ben was mentioned. For the first time since this started, he could find articles where their names were the main headline. Saying Starlight claims that Soldier Boy and Anomaly are close, but what does that mean? and calling her a whore. A fucking gold-digger or power-chaser, saying she was jumping between powerful, older supes to get her what she wanted. Sinking her claws into Ben—just like she’d done with Homelander—and she was going to leave him the moment she was tired of him.

She was in the hall. Ben had the keycard, she couldn’t have gotten in herself, and she had tucked Herself against the wall outside their door. Staring at nothing, and from Her side-profile, her expression was slack. When Ben dropped to Her side, she didn’t flinch or start or even fucking look at him. He grunted her name, and She just hummed. He said it again, voice low and scraping his throat, and moved in front of Her body. She was flushed, and her eyes were hazy. He wasn’t even fucking sure she could see him for a second, but then her face lit up. It didn’t clear or focus, but a loose, happy smile crossed her face, and hands shot up to grab Ben’s face between Her hands.

“Ben,” She was trying to whisper, but doing a piss-poor job of it, pulling Ben’s face closer to hers. “You’re here. Wait,” She frowned, eyes narrowing at him as one hand started poking his nose. “Say something Ben would say.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about.” 

Her smile was back. Bigger this time, and she started falling forwards. Ben’s arms moved to catch Her, slumping against him, and she giggled. “You’re Ben. Ben frowns like that,” She traced a finger over his mouth, following the downward turn of his lip. “And he always catches me. And I can feel you.”

“Of course you can feel me,” he grunted Her name. “I’m fucking touching you. What’s-“

“No,” She shook her head, pushing herself up and half crawling up Ben’s body. “No, no. You don’t get it you handsome dumb dumb. I feel you here.” She jabbed a finger at Ben’s chest. “And it’s you. It’s big and strong and loud, and it’s very Benjamin.” 

She looked back up at him, he studied Her face. Relaxed, completely relaxed, parted lips and glossy eyes, words falling out of Her mouth without thought. Her heart was slow, but her face was flushed and her breath was short. 

He said Her name slowly, holding her face so her eyes stayed on his. “Are you fucking drunk?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Christ on a cross, woman.” Ben sighed, tucked stray hair away from Her face, dropping an arm under her thighs and hauling her up his body, standing cautiously. “How the fuck do you even get drunk.”

Her hands grabbed Ben’s face, pulling it to barely an inch from Hers. “Frenchie,” she whispered, staring at Ben with wide, serious eyes. “Is a fucking god. And very bad at hiding his experiments in the kitchen.” 

Ben sighed, carefully prying her hands away so he could open the door. “What happened, Sunshine.”

“Nothing,” Her lips dropped into a pout. “Ben?”

He grunted, and She buried her head in his neck.

“Why do you like me?”

He paused in his tracks, frowning down at Her. “What.”

“Why do you like me?” She mumbled. “I’m the worst.”

“You’re being insane,” he mutters, adjusting his grip so one arm was under Her knees, the other holding her back. “You’re drunk, and tired, and talking fucking nonsense. We’re going to bed.”

“Ben,” Her voice was almost a whine. “I’m not being insane. I don’t have friends, why would you be my friend.” 

“Why the fuck wouldn’t I be your friend.”

“Because I’m annoying.” She whispered, hands tightening around his neck. “And mean. And a whore.” 

“You’re not a whore.” Ben pushed the door to their room open. “I’m a whore. You’re perfect.”

She wasn’t letting Ben lower her onto the mattress. “I’m not perfect. I’m a liar-“

“You’re not a liar.” Ben made his voice, firm, a little louder than he’d normally be with Her, but she needed to hear. “You just told the world the truth. That’s the opposite of lying, Sunshine. And you are fucking perfect. You’re a genius, and funny as shit, and kind, and powerful, and beautiful-“

She snorted. “I’m not beautiful.”

Ben scowled. “Yes you are. Shut the fuck up and let me talk-“

“No,” She squirmed out of his arms, falling on Her back onto the bed, head hanging off the side, reaching to Ben until he knelt at her side. “You’re beautiful, Ben.” She sighed, rolling onto Her stomach. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Yeah, I know.” Ben stood up, dropping at her side on the bed and watching Her scramble into his lap. “You call me Pretty Boy every fucking day.”

She shook Her head, falling onto his chest and placing one hand on each side of his head. “You’re beautiful, Ben. You don’t get it, it’s not normal.” She was staring at him with something burning and desperate in her eyes. “Nobody should get to have your face and be you. It’s mean to me.”

He watched Her carefully. “How the hell is that mean to you.”

“Because,” She was glaring at him. “You don’t get it.”

“Then fucking tell me-“

She’d shifted up onto her knees, guiding Ben’s brow to Hers, eyes burning into his body. “You’re so beautiful,” She whispered, shaking her head. “It’s not fair.” Her eyes were drooping, words growing more and more slurred as she fell further into Ben’s body. “Not fair.”

“None of this is fair,” he sighed Her name, cradling her head against him. He didn’t know how to fix this. He didn’t have a fucking clue what to do to make this better for Her, and all he could do was stay. “But you’ve got me. And I’ve got you.” 

She made a small sound that might be a sob, or a moan, or a plea. Her words were barely a breath. “Please stay.” 

Ben leaned up to kiss her forehead, before pulling back to watch her eyes flutter, almost closed. “I’ll always fucking stay. You burn, I burn, Sunshine. That’s fucking that.”

“That’s that,” she whispered, a small, blissful smile crossing her face. She said something else, but Ben didn’t understand it. It was a noise from Her throat that sounded like words, but Ben didn’t have the foggiest fucking idea what words they could be. Then She was burying herself back into his neck, breathing growing steady, and something started to wash over him. That feeling, the one he’d felt a few times before that wasn’t wrong but fucking strange. It was so big, covering the whole world and circling around his head. Climbing into his every thought until everything was just this illuminated, boundless, earth-shattering feeling. 

It was everywhere. When he looked around the room, trying to figure out if there was some sort of fucking gas leak or if this was an odd, weird dream, everything was washed with it. His shield at the door, the sheets on their bed, their reflections on the dresser mirror and the deep green, fluffy carpet on the floor. The whole word was fueling the feeling until it was sweeping through Ben’s body, making his blood hot and his head light. This was holy and ancient and fucking everything. This was wider than the ocean, and brighter than the goddamn sun. It was some sort of song that called Ben like a siren, morphing his body into something beautiful. It was peaceful and electric and thirsty and safe, and Ben wanted it to go and go forever. He wanted to create it and then devour it, let it care for him and make everything better. It was natural, it felt like something inevitable and fucking sacred. It made him feel stronger. It made his whole body along with something deeper, further down and intangible, fucking eternal and unstoppable. He could fucking destroy and rebuild the universe without faltering, because this would be with him the whole way.

She sighed against Ben’s neck, and the feeling was gone. Dissipated into thin air, slipping between Ben’s fingers before he could figure out what the fuck it even was. He wanted it back. She was fast asleep against him, heartbeat in perfect time with Ben’s, and he wanted that back. It had been some sort of fucking drug, making him high in a way he’d never felt before. He needed it back now, he needed to feel that for the rest of his fucking life, but he didn’t know how. He didn’t even know what it was, where it had come from, let alone how to get it back in him, around him, through him.

She made a soft sound against Ben’s skin, and he couldn’t stop himself looking down at Her and smiling. She was so fucking beautiful. It didn’t matter what the hell she’d said in her odd, drunken state, She was the most beautiful thing Ben had ever fucking seen. She was the fucking night sky in the wild, when it was more stars than actual darkness, and everything was washed the millions of colors of northern lights. Nothing could ever trap Her, not really, because she wasn’t something that could be trapped. Ben could watch Her, though. He could stay near her, and let her keep being beautiful while he destroyed anything that tried to mar that. She could handle herself, Ben knew she could handle herself, but fuck he wanted to help Her. He wanted to hold her like this every time something in Her broke, and keep calling her beautiful and perfect and good until she stopped fucking fighting with him about it.

Ben loved Her. He still couldn’t tell her he loved her, because this wasn’t at fucking all about him. But he could hold Her like this. He could carefully, steadily pull off her clothing and replace it with his own shirt, keeping his eyes trained only where they needed to be. He could pull them both—still pressed together—up to the top of the bed and under the covers, run fingers through Her hair and savor in the feeling of her body clinging to his. Ben could drift in and out of sleep and watch over Her. Take care of Her in this one way that she allowed him to. Love her and whisper it into the dark, where she couldn’t hear. 

He kept eye on his phone on the bed beside him, and dawn was barely breaking when it buzzed, the screen glowing in the low light of their bedroom. 

Hughie Campbell; Cocksucker, don’t be a cunt, 2 messages.

Ben sighed. He really needed to change those damn contact names, he knew who fucking Hughie was. He’d ask Her to, because the only reason they’d stuck for so long was because She’d put them there, and Ben had no interest in changing them if she didn’t write out the new ones.

He swiped open the display, angling the light away from her closed eyes and reading Hughie’s texts.

Hughie Campbell; Cocksucker, don’t be a cunt

We’re having a meeting in the dining hall in twenty minutes.

I think you’ll want to be there. 

Ben frowned at the words. Hughie never told him there was a meeting. It was always Butcher or Mallory, sometimes MM or Annie, and they’d once sent Kimiko and the French prick right after he’d lost Her, when he rarely looked at his phone except to see Her perfect face in photos. 

He peeled Her off his body in careful, slow, and measured movements to make sure she stayed asleep. Resting Her head off his arm and on a pillow, pulling his legs away from hers and replacing them with blankets. Adding an extra comforter from their closet, because Ben was heavier than a blanket and she seemed to sleep easier when his weight was on top of Her.

It was difficult to get changed and ready for whatever fucking meeting Hughie had been telling him about without waking Her. Clothes off then on one at a time, not bothering to go to the bathroom because he’d have to flush the toilet, and brushing his teeth with one eye on the door for any movement. She shifted mid-spit, and Ben went rigid. He had to wait for Her to settle before walking out, looked at Her beautiful, neutral face one last time, and whispered into the silent room, “I fucking love you, Sunshine. Sleep.”

She made a small hum, but her heart didn’t flutter and breathing did break rhythm, so Ben knew she hadn’t heard him. He left the apartment in silent steps, and the moment the door was cautiously closed behind him he stalked to the dining hall. Everyone was already there, except Mallory, A-Train, Ryan, Ben, and Her. Huddled around the table, speaking in low, tense voices, turning to see Ben push through the doors with wide, surprised expressions. 

“Soldier Boy,” MM frowned at him. “You’re… up early.”

Ben scowled, looking around at their nervous, fucking guilty expressions. “Hughie said there was a meeting.”

A chorus of groans and sighs echoed through the room, and any pretense of silence was apparently thrown out the fucking window as everyone glared at a red-faced Hughie.

“Bloody fuckin hell, lad,” Butcher whacked Hughie upside the head. “You ain’t able to keep your mouth shut about this for one morning?”

Hughie rubbed the back of his neck, frantic words paired with gestures at Ben. “He should know! And he’ll help-“

“Kid,” MM shook his head. “We all fucking agreed he couldn’t be a part of this. He’s biased-“

“I am not fucking biased,” Ben snapped, voice loud enough to silence all the various protests and pussy fucking arguments. “And someone better tell me what’s going on, before I start chopping dicks of and shoving them down throats-“

Hughie said Her name, flinching as everyone’s glares grew sharper. “It’s about her. We’re, um, worried.”

Ben was worried as well. But he didn’t fucking trust that his worry, which was about how She was perfect and beautiful and needed fucking rest, matched their worry.

“Why.”

“As you know,” Annie sighed. “She passed the psych test. But she was really quiet last night,” Annie whispered. “She didn’t talk unless we asked her a question. And it wasn’t getting better, when we wrapped up.“

Ben studied their faces, and it was all concern. Granted, Butcher’s concern made it look like the emotion was physically fucking painful to him, but it was still worry. For Her. Just Her, not how she could help them or if she was a liability. He trusted them. Somehow, at least for this, Ben trusted that they at least fucking meant well for Her. And he could acknowledge that he was a little fucking biased. A lot fucking biased. He loved Her, and she was more important than the whole goddamn world, so he was a lot biased. 

“She got drunk,” Ben muttered, stalking across the dining hall to stand at their table. “Last night, I found her outside our apartment. Fucking hammered.” 

Butcher frowned. “She ain’t able to get drunk-“

“She said he,” Ben glared at the French Prick. “Hides his experiments in the kitchen. Fucking horribly.”

The French Prick’s mouth fell open. “Merde. That would, ah, that would be the V.”

Hughie blinked. “We have V in the kitchen?”

“No,” the French Prick ran a hand over his face, shaking his head. “I have been attempting to recreate V in the kitchen. But it has been trial and error, and I did not think it would, ah, have narcotic effects. It should not have narcotic, I must have made an error-”

“Frenchie,” MM grunted. “I want that shit out of my kitchen by this afternoon.” 

“Just the V, or would you like everything else gone with it?���

“The fuck you mean everything-“

“MM,” Butcher grunted. “Bigger fish, mate. Frenchie, take care of it, before MM’s fuckin head flies off his body. Soldier Boy,” Butcher turned to Ben, saying Her name with a frown. “Is she alright? Frenchie ain’t killed her on accident?”

Ben gave a tight nod. “She’s sleeping it off.”

“What do you think we should do?” Hughie was looking at Ben with sad fucking eyes. “I mean, she can’t go in public right now, but we also-“ 

“Can’t fucking bench her,” Ben finished for Hughie with a sigh, because they couldn’t. She’d climb the fucking walls and yell at them until they let her do something. “She can work on the V. Help us go through the records. That’s it.”

He’d have to ask Her. Later—even though everyone else seemed willing not to tell her about this—Ben was going to ask her what she wanted. It was a lot fucking easier for them to keep secrets from Her. They didn’t fucking love Her.

Annie frowned at him. “Do you think she’ll be okay with that? I mean, she might try to do something else-“

“She will try to do something else,” Ben snapped. She’d always try to do more, even when it killed her. “But she needs rest. So she can do whatever the fuck she wants, as long as it’s far away from Homelander and Sage. Got it?”

That wasn’t something he’d waver on. She could make all their plans and tell everyone what to do, and she could do it right here. At Ben’s side, where if She cried he could wipe away her tears, and if she fell down he could pick her back up. Everyone was nodding, mumbling agreements, and Ben stayed at the table as the group wandered off. The French Prick and Kimiko into the kitchen with MM glaring after them, Annie and Hughie to the hallway as Hughie whined about meaning well, and calling Ben having worked out, leaving Ben with MM and Butcher, silently watching each other.

“You’re going to tell her about this, aren’t you?” MM muttered, and Ben rolled his eyes.

“Of course I fucking am.” I love Her, you pussy. “And if you try and stop me I’ll rip out your asshole-“

“We ain’t gonna stop you, Gov.” Butcher grunted. “Just checkin.”

“Why.”

Butcher shrugged, giving Ben a look he didn’t understand. “No reason. Call it healthy fuckin curiosity.”

Ben scowled, but moved on. If Butcher wanted to be a weird, cryptic fucking dickhole, Ben wasn’t going to be the one that managed to force him to make fucking sense. “You dickhats seen the news?” 

“Yep.” MM sighed. “They’re saying some fucked up shit. You think it got to her?” 

“She was saying,” Ben paused, figuring out what he wanted to tell them. Not everything. Not how She’d called him beautiful, or passed out in his arms, or that strange fucking feeling. “Fucking weird shit. Things that only an insane fucking pussy would say.”

“Things Homelander would say?” 

Ben nodded at MM, something rolling in his stomach. “Things fucking Homelander would say.”

“Keep an eye on her,” Butcher frowned, hands tucking into his pockets as he stood. “She’s strong, but that shit was bloody hell. Right now it’s about the V, so let all fuckin lock in on that. Get Homelander well and bloody buried, twenty feet under. Agreed?”

Even as Ben grunted an agreement, sitting at the table and combing through more and more worthless fucking records with MM and Butcher—the French Prick and Kimiko filtering in and out—he didn’t fucking mean it. This was about Her, not Homelander. This didn’t get to be about Homelander. He didn’t get to fucking take Ben’s attention and energy from Her, along with how’d he’d taken her life and happiness and fucking peace. Ben was already here—sat in the dining hall with the papers in front of him—so he’d keep working at it, but the moment she called for him he’d be gone. Doing whatever she needed him to do. He fucking loved Her. This was about Her. For Ben, this had to be about Her. Nobody else would make it about Her—the real Her, not the speculation or lies or fucking Vought persona—so that was Ben’s most important fucking job. Love Her. Silently, piously love Her. Watch Her bounce around with Ryan and listen to her make plans and kiss her and nip at her until he was allowed to fuck her stupid. Never do anything that made Her feel annoying or the worst or like a burden. Just fucking love Her. Sit in her light and love Her. 

There were worse fates, Ben decided, than waiting for a perfect woman, sitting in Her light, and loving her forever. All Ben could really ask for now was to prove that he was worthy, really, truly goddamn worthy, of sitting in Her light forever.

——————

When you wake up, someone is banging on the downstairs door and Ben isn’t at your side. He was here. You’d gotten drunk, barely managed to keep the words Ben. Ben, I love you from falling out of your mouth, and he’d pick you up and carried you to bed. It wasn’t an exact memory, more of a clouded over flash of sitting in the hallway, alone. So alone. Everyone knows your name and they all have fucking opinions but you’re alone that turned into Ben. Ben’s here. He’s in front of you and real, and everything is warm now. Then you were on the stairs, then on the bed, then in Ben’s lap, then asleep. Not alone. Ben’s still here so you’ll never be alone. He’s so handsome and doesn’t know you love him, and this isn’t fair. You should be able to tell him you love him and it should be easy. Ben is so easy, so you should tell him you love him.

You hadn’t. You know you hadn’t because this part was clear in your memory. Not fair. This isn’t fair. Why you, why are you the one who has to be here and fix this. Why were you the one Homelander decided to take, why did it have to be you. You don’t want it to be someone else, you wouldn’t wish this for anyone, but it’s still so unfair. You didn’t do anything, you didn’t make this mess, but now you have to clean it up. It’s not fucking fair, but this isn’t about fair. Nothing’s fair, but Ben’s got you and you love him. He’s staying, you’ll burn together, and that’s that. You love him, and it’s not fair, but that’s that.

And then you’d fallen asleep. Deep, peaceful, dreamless sleep, that Ben had been here for. The bed smelled like him, and his Thing in your chest was just a little stronger than it had been yesterday. It was always strong—it was tattooed on a part of you that was far too carefully tended to and protected for it to fade—but when Ben was here it flared. Grew almost painful and loud. Like it was responding to his proximity, revitalized by the fact that Ben had been here. With you. You loved him, and he’d been here, so really nothing was that terrible.

The door bangs again, and you have to move. You were only wearing Ben’s shirt and underwear—it smelled like him, pine and salt and Ben—but whoever’s downstairs won’t let up, so you have to move. 

When the door slides open, Frenchie almost falls onto you with a shout of surprise and a hand flying forward you narrowly manage to dodge.

“Fuck, Frenchie!” You watch him with a frown, regaining steady footing and looking around the apartment with curious expression. “Are you-“

“It is lighter.” Frenchie looks back to you, looking you up and down. “The apartment feels much lighter.” 

You blink. “Lighter than what? What’s-” 

“The last time I was here, it was heavy. Full of Soldier Boy’s pain. It is now light.” 

“Yeah, okay, sure.” You sigh. It’s too early to decipher weird Frenchie sayings. “Can I ask why you’re here now?”

Frenchie nods eagerly, reaching into his pockets. “I come with gifts.” 

“Gifts?” 

“A phone,” he shoves a brand new, practically sparkling phone in your hand before returning to his pockets. “And your request, well and fulfilled.” 

He holds up a small, plastic baggie filled with white pills, and you swallow. “The suppressant?”

“Oui.” Frenchie passes it into your hands. “Take two a day. They will run on a thirteen hour cycle, and grow less effective as the hours pass. If you start to take them with more frequency, I will make more. And do not let anyone else take them. It would not be good.”

You narrow your eyes at the pills, glancing at Frenchie with a frown. “What would happen?” 

“Well, your empathy works as an extension of your limbic system beyond only your one self. It does not end with you, but connects beyond your body into others. Correct?” 

“Sure.” You don’t have a single fucking clue about the scientific aspects of your power outside of V goes in, something happens, but Frenchie’s talking fast and you’re tired. That sounds right, and as long as the pill works, you don’t really care. “So?” 

“This will destroy your limbic system. Bomb it entirely. For you, it will regenerate within the millisecond, fast enough that you will not even notice it was ever fully gone. Within the thirteen hours it will have returned to its previous capacity, and another pill will sever your connection to others emotions once more. Stop taking the pills, the empathy returns in a full force.” 

“And for others?” 

“Death.” Frenchie shrugged. “Immediate death. Their brains would likely leak out of their ears.” 

You grimace. “Gross.” 

“Oui, very much.” 

“So, I guess I just take one?” You look between the bag and Frenchie. “And that’s it?”

“They will not work immediately, Madame,” he says your name with a sigh, glaring at the pills like they’d disappointed him. “Your body will attempt to fight them off. If I have been correct, after one pill they will have more of an instant kick.”

You nod slowly. “Two a day?”

“I would do every twelve hours. Should the thirteen pass, you will be made to start from scratch once more.” 

“Okay,” you sigh. “Thanks, Frenchie. This really means a lot.” 

“Do not worry, I enjoyed making them. Let me know if you die.” 

You snort. “I’ll try not to, but sure.”

The door closes behind him, and you don’t bother to get any water to take the pill. Nothing happens—like Frenchie’d said—and now all you have to do is wait. For it to work, and for Ben to get back. You put the coffee on, hide the pills with the V, and take an inventory of what’s changed in your absence. The fridge is stocked better than you’d thought it would be, and all the dishes are clean. Most everything, actually, is clean and well maintained. You’ll have to tell Ben later that you were proud of him, because this was even more than you’d hoped for. You’re low on toothpaste, but toothpaste is cheap. There was a blanket and pillow still on the floor near the couch, and all that took to fix was carrying them upstairs into the hamper. Everything else was almost exactly as you’d left it.

Another reason to love Ben. He was a surprisingly good housekeeper.

I am not a fucking trophy wife, Sunshine.

You sigh into your empty bedroom, where everything still smells like him. Even when he’s probably just in the dining hall, he won’t stop haunting you, his voice rough and low in your ear. I didn’t call you a Trophy Wife, Benjamin. I called you a housekeeper. 

And? Those are the same goddamn thing-

No. Trophy wife implies wealth, and we technically live on welfare. And a housekeeper is a job. So if escorts don’t pan out, I can start a sexy male maid business.

I am not a fucking maid.

No, you’re a sexy maid. Big difference.

You can hear his chuckles, rolling somewhere near his Thing. You think I’m sexy? Think I’m fucking hot? 

Shut up.

I think you’re fucking hot. If you’d let me, I’d show you just how hot I think you are.

It’s not real Ben. It’s okay to indulge this, because it’s not real Ben, and he can’t feel all this love for him, swirling in with the thirst as something warm spreads through your body. How? 

There’s a pause, and then a grunt. You want me to tell you? 

Yes, please.

Silence again. I love you.

Ben, I told you-

I know what you fucking told me, his voice snaps your name. If you want to know what I’d do, I get to say I love you.

You sigh. You know him too well, love him too much, because even this phantom of Ben is a stubborn asshole. Fine. 

Good. I love you. I’d tell you that first, until you got it. Then I’d kneel at the side of the bed, and pull you right onto my face. You fit real well on my face, Sunshine, like you were fucking made for it. Then I’m going to prep you. I’m not fucking small, beautiful, and I’ve felt how damn tight you are. I’m going to have to tongue-fuck and finger you until I decide you’ll take me easy. If it takes a whole goddamn day, that’s a whole day you get to cum for. A whole day I make you feel fucking good. 

You almost fall over, because his voice is everywhere. Sitting around you and in your body, warm and deep and hungry. He sounds so fucking hungry, and he’s everywhere. Ben’s not even here but he’s everywhere. The whole room smells like him, and his voice is living somewhere in your skull, and every time you touch yourself—squeeze your breast or shove a finger into your cunt—it’s so easy to imagine it’s Ben.

If you get tired or need a break, you can suck my cock until you’re ready again. But once I get you in bed, we’re not leaving until I fuck you right. If you need to stop you’ll tell me, and I’ll take care of you, because I fucking love you, but if you’re just fucking sensitive we’re riding it out. We’re going until you’re ready, and once you are I’m fucking you until the bed breaks. Until you’re screaming so loud the suits downstairs hear you begging for me and saying my name.

Ben- 

Just like that. Over and over again until I’ve fucked you so good you can’t even speak. All you’ll be able to do is make those pretty moans and whines, and I’m going to fucking eat them. The first time it’s going to be fucking romantic, because I’m a gentleman and I love you, and we’re going to do goddamn boring ass missionary so I can watch your face when you cum on my cock and devour all your pretty fucking sounds.

You swallow, and give up on standing. This is your apartment, your bedroom, and you’re allowed to fall backwards onto your bed and imagine your… Ben telling you how he’d want to fuck you. You’re allowed to slide a hand into your underwear and up your shirt—Ben’s shirt—and indulge this. The first time? How, being speechless in just a fantasy does not bode well for when this is real. How else do you want to fuck me?

Every fucking way.

Can you be a little more fucking specific-

After we’re romantic, you’re getting on your stomach and I’m fucking you from behind until you can’t hold yourself up anymore. You’re going to fall forwards, and I’m going to have to hold your perfect fucking ass in the air until you cum again and I finish on your back.

That’s specific. That’s really specific. Is that it?

It’s a taunt, a bait for the phantom to keep going until you manage to cum in real life. He takes it, because he’s a figment of Ben and that idiot doesn’t know how to shut up. You love him so fucking much.

Of course that’s not fucking it, brat. I think I’ll let you ride me, see how long you can keep yourself upright before you need me to take over and fuck up into you. Then you’re going to sit in my lap and I’ll fuck you and finger you until you’re fucking putty in my arms. We’ll try to clean up, but I’ll fuck you in to shower as well. You’ll probably suck my dick after, and then I’ll bend you over the table downstairs when we try to get food. We’re defiantly fucking doing it against the wall, and if Butcher tries to cockblock me again we’re not stopping. He’ll just have to watch me fuck you until you try to bite me again. That was real fucking hot. I want to see if that’s just a wall thing, or if it’s just something you do whenever I throw you around.

You’re so close. He sounds like he’s talking right in your ear, and you hear every wet sound your fingers are making as you go faster. 

I’m going to throw you around, Sunshine. I’m going to get real fucking rough with you, because you like it. I know you fucking like it. And I love you, so every time I leave bruises on you I’ll kiss them away then fuck you slow to make up for it.

You can’t bruise me, Ben. It’ll heal.

Who gives a fuck. I’ll still fuck you until you’re scratching my back and bursting into flame then fuck you until you’re begging and dizzy. The, when this shit is over, we’re going to travel the whole goddamn world together until there’s not a corner of I haven’t fucked you in.

Even as you start to grind into your hand and your eyes start to flutter, you scoff. Romantic.

Only for you, beautiful. By the time I’m done with you, everyone will always be able to fucking smell me on you. Know how fucking good you are, how goddamn addictive and perfect you are, because I won’t be able to stop fucking cumming all over you. Fuck, I’ll never be done with you. The world will go to shit and I’ll just keep fucking you, Sunshine. I fucking love you. 

That’s enough. That’s all the right things to say, said in Ben’s deep, firm voice, and you let out a small whine that he can never know about when you cum. It’s silent for a second, Ben’s Thing is still humming a beat in your body that carries you back down, and you smile into the air. Pull out method guy, huh?

Condoms don’t fucking work on supe jizz, Sunshine. It’s like trying to block a bullet with a damn window. 

Did they not offer sex ed in the 1930s? Pull out method doesn’t work, Pretty Boy.

I don’t give a fuck. I’ll cum in you all I want, until you’re fucking full of me. And I’ve slept around my whole damn life, never knocked anyone up.

As far as you know. 

You can almost see his scowl. That’s not funny.

What, don’t like the idea of a bunch of tiny Benjamin’s, running around telling their stuffed animals to shove it up their fucking ballsacks? 

There’s a long pause, and when Ben speaks again his voice low. Low and careful and rough. 

I like whatever the fuck you like. If you want an army of kids in a white picket fucking house, then you get that. If you never want to look at baby again, I’ll kick all of them into the fucking sun. But that’s a bridge we’ll cross after I fuck you like you deserve. Got it? 

You don’t get to respond to the Phantom—remind it that it’s not real, and can’t really offer you anything—because the door opens downstairs and real Ben is home. He’s not talking or making any real noise except for heavy footsteps, but his Thing in your body flares and you know it’s him. 

When you exit the bedroom he’s outside the door, frowning down at you. You’re about to ask him where the hell he went—your mouth already open and eyes narrowed at his stupid, handsome face—but he moves first. Pulls you against him and kisses you, long and heavy until your knees are weak and you can’t stop the moan escaping your throat. He takes it, mouth curling in a smirk against yours, and your blood is hot. Burning in your body and trying to push out of you, into Ben. Everywhere you’re connected to him you can feel his hunger, and when his arm wraps around your hips and squeezes your whole body almost caves in with an effort to keep all your love for him in you. You’re still a little high from your orgasm, and he’s kneading at your skin and dropping his head to suck on your neck, and it’s almost impossible to just push him away. Take an unsteady step back—keeping your fists in a tight grip on his shirt because you’re not that strong—and watch him carefully.

“Good morning to you too, Benjamin.”

“It’s fucking not,” he grumbles, hands covering yours against his chest, holding you there. “Better now, but still not good.”

You have to focus on the not good part, so that your heart doesn’t pound right through your ribs and out of your chest at the better now part. “What happened?”

Ben sighs, eyes scanning over your face, pulling you apart until he finds whatever it was needed. You let him. It always makes you feel safe, known, and a little more alive because Ben can look at you like that, so you let him. You sit in the concrete resolve wrapping around you, in the rumble of his Thing around your body, and wait.

“You’re hungry.” 

You are hungry. You haven’t eaten since yesterday, unless you count whatever Frenchie had been hiding in the Kitchen that had gotten you drunk and the tiny pill in your system, still not kicked it. But Ben says it and suddenly you’re starving, and your stomach makes a bubbling, rolling sound. Ben hears it—of course he does, stupid asshole with stupid supe ears—and smirks at you.

“Shut up.”

His smirk widens. “I didn’t say shit.” 

“It was a preemptive shut up.” You take a step further down the loft strip, and Ben follows, folding his fingers between yours as you walk down the stairs. “To keep you from saying something fucking dumb.” 

He snorts, and you can feel his shrug jostle your arm. “Preemptive warfare is a crime, Sunshine.” 

“I know that.” You turn with a frown, waiting for him to join you at the bottom of the stairs. “How do you know that?” 

“I’m not a fucking idiot-“ 

“I don’t think you’re a fucking idiot.” You tilt your head at him, feeling that odd glow start to hum inside Ben’s body as his glare softens. “But when I tried to explain Bill Clintion’s impeachment, you started shouting about how fucking should never be a crime. I’m just never sure what you do and don’t know.”

Ben sighs. “I was there when the UN Charter was signed. I remember all the fucking peace-pussies arguing about that shit for three days.” 

You grin at him. “Old-“

“Shut the fuck up and eat.” Ben starts to tug you toward the table, where he’s poured the coffee into your mug and set out a plate with a muffin that definitely hadn’t been in your apartment before. 

“Where-“ 

Ben pulls out your chair, and all but shoves you into it before walking around to his own seat, dropping across from you with a glare. “Dining hall.” 

“Why-“

“You like those muffins. And you need to fucking eat.”

You sigh. “No, I’ve got that. Why were you in the dining hall?”

Ben’s jaw tightens, and he glares between you and the muffin. “Working before I got kicked out. Eat.”

“Kicked-“ 

“Eat, and I’ll fucking tell you.”

You wrinkle your nose at him and take an exaggerated bite of the muffin. Ben nods, staring at your chewing as he answers.

“Got a boner. MM saw it. Fucking prude asshole kicked me out.”

“Out of-“ You swallow, covering your mouth with a hand. “Out of what?”

“Work.”

“Why were you working in the dining hall?”

“You’re not allowed to flip your shit.”

You glare at him. “No.”

Ben grunts your name. “You’ve got to swear you won’t fucking lose it-“

“If you don’t want me to lose it, dumb dumb, don’t lead with asking me not to. Why were you working in the dining hall?” 

He sighs. “We had a meeting.”

“About?”

“You.”

He’s still looking at you. Watching you carefully, a foot pressed against yours under the table. There’s something sick in his body, made of that stone protection but wrapped in toxin. Worry. Ben’s worried.

You take a long breath. “What about me.”

“If you’re okay.”

“I’m fine-“ 

“No, you’re fucking not. You got drunk,” He snaps your name, but it’s not angry. It’s strained, and the sickness starts to wrap around his throat. “And you’re still throwing yourself in front of trains when you need to rest.” 

“That’s not for you to decide,” you glare at the muffin on the plate, because you can’t look at Ben. If you look at Ben, you might start crying. “I’m here, Ben. I’m okay, it’s just a lot-“ 

“It doesn’t fucking have to be a lot. This doesn’t have to be your job-“

“Yes, it does.” You sigh, feeling blood draw in your mouth as you bite through your cheek. Blood. So much blood. “I have to fix this.”

He mutters your name, and when you look up he just looks sad. The toxin has settled into something that aches, and Ben’s eyes on yours are just tired and sad. “This is fucking killing you. You’ve done enough, you’ve fucking scarified all your goddamn privacy and peace for this shit, just rest-“ 

“No,” you give him a small, sad smile that you know doesn’t reach your eyes. “I’ve bought us time, but we have to finish this soon. I’ll rest when we finish this.”

Ben shakes his head, the ache growing, but sighs. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Is anything I say going to make you, for once in your damn life, listen to me?”

“No,” you mumble, and it’s a half lie. The only thing that would make you listen is the one thing Ben won’t say, so, technically, the answer is no. “It won’t. I have to-“

“You have to fix this.” Ben mutters. “I know. But,” he narrows his eyes at you. “No more fighting Homelander and Sage by yourself. No more risky, shit fucking plans that put you in the line of fire or make you afraid.”

“Okay,” you whisper. You don’t really want to fight Homelander and Sage by yourself again. Ever. You don’t want to see blood on your hands for the rest of your life, and agreeing to this makes something loosen around Ben’s throat, so it’s so fucking easy to agree. “Deal.”

Ben’s hand finds yours on the table, squeezing once. “Deal.”

“Ben?”

He repeats your name back to you with a frown, and you smile at him. This one’s real, and born from how he didn’t yell. You didn’t yell. He’s still here, and worried about you, and you love him, so it’s perfectly natural and easy to smile at Ben.

“You smell like shit.”

Ben scowls, but his amusement sparks in your chest and your smile widens. “Shut the fuck up. I didn’t get to shower last night, because someone was climbing all over me and wouldn’t let me fucking move.”

You feel the heat rush to your face. “Sorry.”

“Don’t-

“Apologize.” You sigh, poking at your muffin. “I know. I’m still sorry. I was out of it, I know you’re my friend, but it was, um, weird to see what everyone was saying-”

Ben grunts your name, and his Thing is aching. “You’re my best friend. I was fucking serious when I said you’re my best friend.”

“I know-“

“You clearly don’t,” he glares at you, and you can’t look away from him. His thumb is running over your knuckles, there’s a heat in his eyes that starts to make the fire push under your skin, makes something in your gut ignite. “I fucking adore you. Not some fake, plastic, marketable version of you. Nothing any sort of fucking Hollywood pussies and vultures say about you, nothing Vought says, and nothing fucking Homelander says matters, because I adore you, and know you better than fucking anyone. You’re not a liar, or a whore. You are mean, but I usually deserve it, and you’re also beautiful and kind. Got it?”

It’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done to not launch yourself across the table and kiss Ben, tell him you love him, and that you know that. That any fear or doubt festering in your head is in the form of a cold, cruel voice calling you weak, and what pushes it away is an ardor and love and certainty that Ben will catch you. You manage to stop yourself. Bite your tongue and choking down the words, give Ben a smile that says thank you.

He sighs, scooting back from the table. “Come here.”

The muffin is forgotten as you stand and move around the table, falling into Ben’s lap and just holding him. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your head into his shoulder. You can feel his every breath moving his body, and it makes an even harmony with his Thing in your chest.

“The media is full of idiot pussies,” he mutters in your ear, hands drawing circles on your back. “In the 60s, they said I couldn’t really shoot a gun. I can shoot a fucking gun.”

You smile against him. “I know. I’ve seen you do it.” 

“And I hit the mark every goddamn time.” 

“Sure.”

He pulls back, glaring at you. “I fucking do.”

“I believe you, Ben.” You grin at the adorable, frustrated frown and knit of his brow. “What am I supposed to say?”

Ben narrows his eyes at you. “I don’t know, something fucking encouraging. With Ryan you kept telling him he was strong-“

“Ryan is twelve. You’re a grown man.” You pull yourself further up his chest until your lips are brushing against his when you speak. “You know you’re a good shot, Ryan didn’t think he could hold more than three tons. What do you want me to say.” 

He’s glaring at you, and his words are low and tense. “Shut up.”

“I’ll say it,” you mumble, falling further forward as that glow deep in Ben’s body returns, still not fully kissing him. It’s hard to keep teasing him, because his invading all your senses in the best way possible, but you manage. “I’ll tell you you’re stupid fucking handsome, and strong, and my, Benjamin, what nice hands you have-”

His Thing roars inside of you, and suddenly he’s moving. Picking you up and slamming you down onto the table, leaning over you and smirking against your lips without ever just fucking kissing you.

“Brat.” His words are a growl, and you can just watch him. Feel the hunger sweeping through your body, drowning out all the lingering fear and tension until it’s just Ben. Ben, I love you. “You’ve got a smart, pretty fucking mouth, Sunshine. You want me to touch it, all you have to do is damn ask.”

You don’t bother. Your nails are digging into the skin of Ben’s neck, and his grin is so fucking cocky, and the groan he lets out when you tug him down—pull his mouth onto yours—is the best thing you’ve ever heard. He doesn’t push it further—his hips pinning yours to the table so you can’t buck up into him—but it’s still too much. Your love is starting to get away from you. But you can hold it in a little longer, hopefully long enough long enough for Frenchie’s stupid fucking pill to do its job so Ben can just fuck you. He can’t keep looking at you and touching you like this—hungry and reverent and devoted—and expecting you not to fuck him. He needs to feel how much you love him, even if it’s just with hands and teeth and moans instead of soft confessions and whispers of Ben. Ben, I love you. 

It doesn’t kick in though. Your blood is starting to burn in your body, and Ben’s thing is rioting in the spaces between your ribs. So you have to lean your head away and take a heavy long breath as Ben drops his head to your neck, kissing and sucking a wet, heavy trail up to and along your jaw, across your face, and stopping on your lips, pressing his brow to yours. 

“Ben?”

He grunts, and you move your hands to hold his face, pulling him back to meet your eyes. 

“You still smell like shit.” 

He scoffs. “You didn’t seem to fucking mind.” 

“I am capable of being distracted.” You grin up at him, running a hand up, into his hair. “Are you going to distract MM or Annie at dinner by making out with them when they say you smell?” 

“Smartass.”

“You love it.”

Ben sighs, dropping his full weight back onto your body, pressing his head into your neck. “I do.”

That doesn’t mean anything. He means the words—Ben means everything he says, it’s one of the reasons why you love him—but they don’t mean anything. His breath is warm on your skin, and his hands tracing across your body like you’re sacred, but it doesn’t mean anything. His thing in your chest is pounding and roaring and trying to carve something crucial into you, but it doesn’t mean a single thing. Your blood is starting to leak out of your body, and that’s why he’s acting like this. It’s your love, crawling away from you, making you a liar. A weak, horrible liar.

You pray he can’t hear the strain of your voice when you mumble in his ear. “Go shower, Pretty Boy.” 

He nods, hauling himself off your body with a strange expression that you can’t read, kissing you one last time. Slow and gentle, letting your hand curl into his hair before standing up—tugging you upright as he does—with a glare.

“Finish your muffin.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

You see his mouth twitch up, and can’t stop your own smile crossing your face as he rolls his eyes, and kisses you one last time before he walks away—up the stairs and into your bedroom—and you love him. You need this stupid pill to kick in now, because you love Ben and the longer you draw this out the harder it is to keep holding your ground. The more you walk right up to the line, the harder it is not to cross it. That had been too close, far too close, but it had still been impossible to stop it.

Because you’re weak. The words are bored, obvious, and crude in your head. You’re a weak, manipulative, lying bitch. Useless. Weak and useless. 

You’re not useless. You can’t be useless. You might be weak—too soft, too kind, too forgiving—but you won’t allow yourself to be useless. Once your empathy is severed, you will be useless. You’ll have your fire—sitting comfortably under your skin—but if you have to face Homelander again it might go dormant, and you still don’t trust your singing enough to work in your favor.

You’d promised not to face Homelander alone again. And you’ll never go looking for it. But there will always be a chance. A single, hollow sliver of a possibility that no matter what you—or Ben—do, Homelander will find you again. You can’t be useless if that happens. You won’t be useless if that happens again.

The phone Frenchie gave you is already half set-up. The benefit of your phone being destroyed last time is that—unlike when Homelander had found it—you could just port in all your old data. Nothing’s been lost, nothing has to be redone. Ben’s contact is still pinned at the top of your messages, and your heart breaks a little when you see the last text he’d sent you.

Benjamin: Handsome Fucking Dumbass Cunt

If Butcher gives u shit for going off bok, tell me and Ill rip his face of

He texts like a child with two broken thumbs. The longer he’d had a phone, the more his grammar and sentence structure had regressed. You’d made the mistake of turning his autocorrect in the hope it would make him try harder, then the bigger mistake of explaining texting abbreviations, and now every single text he sent looked like that one. He’s an idiot, and you love him so much it might kill you. 

I’m going to Annie and Hughie’s. I love you.

You type it without thinking, and barely catch it the second before you hit send.

I’m going to Annie and Hughie’s. I’ll see you in a few hours.

Ben’s phone lights up on the table next to you when you hit send, and you smile when you see your own photo, still his lock screen.

You can’t lose this again. It’s what carries your feet out the door and down the hall, makes you knock on the door of Annie and Huhgie’s apartment. You can’t lose Ben again, and if you’re useless, you might. I might be wiser to ask Ben to do this for you, but you don’t have the strength to explain to him why you need it. To see his face fall and feel his worry when you tell him that you’re still weak and afraid, that he’s your best friend and you adore and trust him, but you’re still weak and afraid. That his word means more than anyone’s, but it can only do so much to combat Homelander’s cold and the screams of the world that you’re a liar. A weak, useless, liar.

Hughie answers, and says your name in surprise. “Hi, are you-“ 

“I need you to help me.” 

“Me?” Hughie blinks. “Um, with what?��� 

You take a deep breath, crossing your arms over your chest. “Teach me how to shoot a gun.” 

Hughie stares at you, mouth slack, shaking his head and stumbling over words. “What? I mean, why? Why are you asking me, and not MM or Butcher or, uh, Soldier Boy-” 

“Because you’re the only one who I trust to not be a dick about it.” That’s true. MM will try to be patient, but you’ll get frustrated with yourself and it will end up making you both tense and angry. Butcher will probably end up shooting you to make a point, and—on top of not wanting to explain to Ben why you need this—he’ll be a cocky fucking showoff about it, and you’ll get horny, and nothing will get done. “Please, Hughie. I don’t need to be an expert sniper, I’m just the last person left on the team who doesn’t know how.”

“But I’m, I’m a terrible shot. Butcher says I might as well be blind-“ 

“You know how to use a gun?” 

“I mean, I guess yeah. I kind of have to, for this shit-“ 

“Then teach me.” You sigh. “Please.” 

“Are you really-“ 

“I’m sure.” 

“Then yeah,” Hughie takes a step back, pausing with a nervous smile. “Okay. Just, give me a sec.” 

He’s only gone for a minute, and when he reappears with shoes on and his phone in his hand, Hughie closes the door and leads you down the hall. 

You walk in silence for a while, before he clears his throat and frowns at you. “You’re really okay?” 

“I’m tired,” you mumble, looking down at the floor. “But I’m okay.” 

“And Soldier Boy-“ 

“He’s good.” You smile to yourself, because you’re a lovesick dummy. “He’s really good. He brought me a muffin.” 

“A muffin?” When you look at Hughie, he’s frowning. “That’s, that’s kind of sweet.” 

You nod, shrugging. “He’s a lot more like a puppy than you’d expect. I mean, I know you met him before I did and he was a dick-“ 

“I don’t judge you,” Hughie interrupts you with almost frantic words, and you blink at him. “I mean, he’s still a dick, and you know that, but, fuck, he’s isn’t calling me cocksucker anymore, and even Annie thinks he’s nicer-“ Hughie shakes his head, and you start to get a little worried he’s going make himself pass out. “Not nicer. But less, um, mean? Like he’s still a dick but more of a soft dick? That’s horrible, I-“ 

“Hughie,” you almost nudge his shoulder, but manage to catch yourself. “I get it. And I don’t think you judge me.” 

“Oh. Good.” As you reach a door labelled Shooting Range—Ben was right, they don’t tell you fucking shit—Hughie stops in the hall, giving you an awkward smile. “Is there, uh, a reason you don’t want him to teach you?” 

You breathe out a small laugh. “Not any you’d want to hear.” 

“I don’t think that’s true, I mean you’re my friend-“ 

“We wouldn’t get through a lesson without being, um, less than PG-13.” 

Hughie’s eyes widen, and his face grows red. “Uh, gross.” 

You shrug. “I told you. Should’ve believed me.” 

Hughie opens the door, and his smile is still embarrassed, but less awkward. “Learned that lesson, I guess.” 

You grin, and follow Hughie inside. 

The shooting “range” is more of a shooting hall. It’s not small—there’s at least five or six booths—but it’s narrow and tight, with the guns being kept in a large gray trunk that Hughie kneels down to unlock. 

“This can’t be safe,” you mutter, watching him shift through the hopefully unloaded firearms. “You’d think a government building would have stricter gun codes.” 

“They do.” Hughie stands back up, handing you a pistol similar to the one Ben had taken from the agent in February. The one you’d shot Sage with. “These are all ours. I don’t think we’re technically supposed to have them here, but nobody seems to really give a shit that we do.” 

You hum an agreement, glancing down at the gun. “Now what?” 

“Uh,” Hughie looks around the hall. “I guess you chose a booth, and I figure out where MM would’ve put the ammo?” 

All the booths look the same. Headphone mufflers you won’t need provided, targets set up behind a steel counter that runs the length of the hall, floor to ceiling dividers between each area. The dividers have full length mirrors for some reason—though it is pretty easy to imagine Frenchie flexing into them to try and show off to Kimiko, or Butcher winking at himself when he makes a shot—and there’s a panel of buttons to adjust the targets. You chose the closest one, and watch Hughie shuffle around the area until he finds a small box at the booth closest to the door, filled with neatly sorted bullets.

He returns to your side, swallowing and giving you one last apprehensive look. “Ready?” 

You nod. “Born it.”

The first thing you learn is how to load the gun. Hughie does it once for himself, then again to walk you through it, and you manage to do it yourself in one try. The moment the bullet is locked in the chamber, Hughie freezes. 

“We probably should’ve done gun safety stuff before the bullet went in.”

“I think I’ll be okay,” you shrug, keeping the barrel pointed at the floor. “No pointing it at anyone, myself included, safety on until I shoot, finger off the trigger, don’t be a dumbass. Right?”

Hughie nods, and from there it’s all about how to shoot the gun. Logistically, it’s simple. In practice less so. Guns are loud. You don’t wear the earmuffs—your eardrums can’t shatter, so you hand them to Hughie—but the bang still echoes through the room and the blast makes you stumble back slightly. Over the hour you figure out how to plant your feet so you don’t fall backwards, Hughie gives you nervous, hesitant tips about aiming and stance and hand positioning, and you get better. You’re not good at it, not by a mile, but you’re hitting the target and stop flinching every time you fire. 

“You want to try and move it back?” Hughie leans forward, frowning at ten foot space between you and the target. “I think you could manage fifteen-“

You feel Ben right before someone knocks on the door. His Thing in your chest spikes up along your spine, and you sigh as Hughie jumps. “Shit.”

He’s shouting your name, and the wall is barely muffling it. “Open the damn door!”

“Do it yourself, drama queen!” You yell back, and the banging on the door stops.

“I can’t, you took the fucking keycard!”

You had done that. It’s sitting on the counter, right in front of you, next to your phone. When you open the door to a glowering Ben—hair still damp, scanning you up and down—you sigh. “I forgot, sorry-“

“Shut up.” He marches past you, glaring around the room, eyes settling on Hughie. “Why the fuck didn’t you pussies tell me we had a gun range.”

“Uh, I don’t-“

“And what the fuck are you,” Ben turns back to you with a scowl. “Doing in it?”

You give him a flat look. “Guess.”

“Brat.”

“Cunt. Why are you here.” 

“I went looking for you, and Annie said you and Hughie went to the gun range that nobody fucking told me we had.”

“We didn’t think-“ 

Hughie’s mumble is cut off by a sharp glare from Ben. “Shut the fuck up. What have you taught her.”

“Ben, I asked him to-“

“Why him?” Ben’s Thing in you is aching and sour, and his face looks almost lost. “Why didn’t you fucking ask me?”

You don’t have a good answer that doesn’t either start or end with Ben. Ben, I love you, so you just give a lame, guilty shrug. “I didn’t want to bother you-“

“You never fucking bother me.” He snaps, and you feel the heat rush into your face. “I’m sure as hell going to be a better fucking teacher than he is.” Ben jerks his head at Hughie, and you frown. 

“Hughie’s been fine, Ben, don’t be an ass.”

Ben scoffs. “I’d be fucking better.”

“I actually agree with Soldier Boy-“

You raise a hand, and Hughie falls silent as you hold Ben’s glare. “I’m not try to join the fucking army, Benjamin, just shoot well enough to get by. And we’re doing fine.”

Ben steps to the side, gesturing back to the booth. “Prove it.”

Hughie all but stumbles back as you march to the counter—shoving past Ben and ignoring the heat rolling off his body into yours—and pick up the gun. You can feel his eyes on you, his Thing starting to scorch your lungs and heart, you pull the trigger. Hughie yelps—you hadn’t given him enough time to put the earmuffs back on, you give him an apologetic look when you turn—but Ben is silent. Stalking over and glaring at where you’d hit the target. A small, smoking hole right over the heart. You’d been aiming for the head. Ben didn’t need to know that.

“Good,” he grunts, leaning past you and picking up the gun. Loading it with rough, careful movements. “Do it again.”

“Do I, uh,” Hughie’s looking between where Ben is standing over you, glaring at the gun, and where you’re staring at Ben’s hands, trying not to drool, clinging to even a fake anger at him. “Do I have be here?”

“No.” Ben snaps, glancing up at you with a smirk flashing across his face. “Fuck off, kid.” 

Hughie doesn’t wait to be told twice. He gives you a small nod, Ben an anxious look, and the door closes behind him.

“That was mean, Ben-“ 

“I don’t give a fuck.” Ben passes the gun back into your hands, taking a large step back. “Again. Knees further apart.”

You frown. “Why?”

“You won’t have to tense as much to stay up.”

“But-“

“Just fucking do it, Sunshine.”

You stick your tongue out at him, and turn back to the target. Knees further apart, raise the gun, shoot.

It’s really annoying when Ben is right. His handsome face gets all smug, and his eyes get all taunting, and the cocky grins that always pulls at his lips never goes away until you kiss it. “You going to admit I was right?”

“Fuck you.”

He snorts. “Do it again, and I might. You look fucking hot.” 

You flip off, but do it again anyway. This time the recoil barely even shakes your body, and Ben’s grin grows.

“Arms higher up.”

“What?” 

“Your arms.” You don’t get to turn to glare at him before you feel Ben behind you, wrapping around your body and moving your arms to level with your shoulders. “There. Again.”

You have to take a shaky breath before you fire, because even after Ben steps back his Thing keeps bellowing in your chest.

It goes like this for another hour. Ben adjusting you, muttering orders and standing behind you as you fire. His Thing in you becomes almost violent—clawing against you, making your blood rush and burn and try to reach Ben—but you push on. You won’t be useless. 

“Even footing,” Ben grunts from behind you as you glance back at him, reloading the gun. “You’re putting more weight on your left. They need to be even.” 

“Can you say please?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You grins at him. “So you can’t say please.”

Ben lets out a long, labored sigh, and his Thing makes a long, feral sound, and pushes at the top of your chest. “Please. Brat.”

“Well,” you hum. “If it’s that’s important to you-“

“Shoot the damn gun, Sunshine.”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Asshole.”’ 

When you turn back around and raise the gun, you freeze. 

You can’t feel Ben.

He’s behind you, a foot away and watching you silently, and you can’t feel him. His Thing in your chest is gone. Not dormant, not quiet. Vanished. Frenchie’s pill had worked. You weren’t dead, and you can’t feel Ben.

You lower the gun and turn around, taking a deep breath when you find Ben staring at you, scanning your face with a frown.

“Are you-“

“I’m done,” your words are quick, frantic, and you rush past him. Unloading the gun, shoving it back into the trunk and dropping the bullets in MM’s box, and turning back to Ben. “Let’s go-“

“What's wrong with you.” He cuts you off with a glare, crossing the hall until he’s towering over you. His arms are brushing yours, and you can’t feel if he’s angry or annoyed or worried. You can tell he’s worried—he’s still studying your face, wrapping around you without touching you so he can block you from any possible threats—but you can’t feel it. He grunts your name, low and gruff and Ben, he’s saying your name and looking at you and he’s warm and- Fuck it.

You surge up, crashing your mouth into Ben’s and yanking him down by his shirt to meet you halfway. His hesitation barely lasts a second—a long, painful second of him tensing under your hands—before he makes a low, rumbling sound from deep in his chest and spurs into action. Hands grabbing your face, angling it so he can deepen the kiss with his tongue down your throat, biting your lip as he presses his body against yours and walks you back into the wall. Groaning when you start to tug at his hair, dropping his head into your neck and sucking that one spot until you moan. A loud, desperate moan that makes Ben grin as he moves a hand up to support himself against the wall, dropping the other grab your hips. 

He says your name again, and you can hear the hunger. It’s not in you, but Ben’s voice is deep and hoarse—his hand starting to squeeze and rub your skin as he nips near your ear—and you know he’s hungry. “You’re okay.” 

“I’m okay-“ You cut your own words off with a high, breathless sound when Ben starts to leave sloppy, open kisses along your jaw. “Fuck, I’m good. I’m really good, Ben, please-“

“You’re good.” He pulls all the way back, his fist curling on the wall near your head as he watches you with dark eyes. “You want this.”

You nod, not even bothering to pretend that you’re not desperate. That if Ben doesn’t touch you right fucking now you might die, or at least start crying. “Yes, please.”

He nods, but still doesn’t just move. “Say it.” 

“Benjamin, please fuck me-“

You don’t get to finish your sentence before he’s back on you. Bruising your mouth with his, growling your name down your throat as you start to try and climb up his chest with desperate hands scraping at his shoulders. Hands Ben grabs and moves around his neck, muttering an order against your lips that rumbles through your body and makes your knees almost buckle. 

“Hold on.”

Ben’s knee pushes between your thighs before you’ve even had a chance to listen, and when you roll your hips onto it his hands hold you down. Stopping any movement, pressing your core right against him as his arms drop to hook under your knees. He pauses, rubbing circles on your thighs as he adjusts his grip and watches at you, still trying to grind down onto him.

“Please-“

“Tell me you want me. Fucking mean it.”

You nod, your nails digging into his neck. “I want you. Now, Ben, I want you now-“

This kiss is heavy. All of Ben’s weight is over you, and he’s eating your words, turning them into breathless, needy whines. You're a little dizzy when he pulls back, trying to chase his mouth and squirm higher up his leg, and almost squealing when your shorts are ripped off your body. He’s grinning at you, watching you with almost an amazement, and his chuckle makes you whimper. “You want me so bad you’ll fuck yourself on my knee, Sunshine?” 

“Ben-“

You yelp when he hauls you up and over his body, your legs wrapping around his chest and your head leaning down to try and connect his mouth back to yours. It doesn’t take much effort, because Ben drops you down his chest just enough that you almost slam back into him. His nose is bumping yours, and he tastes like coffee and strawberries, and his beard is scraping the soft skin of your face as he takes more. His hands are squeezing and pulling at your thighs, and he won’t stop making low, deep sounds that cause his chest to vibrate and make you moan into his mouth. 

“So fucking good,” he mutters your name, and you try to roll your hips against him. Try to do something about your whole body feels like it’s on fire, how every time Ben’s big, rough hands move against you, and every time he groans and sucks your tongue into his mouth, you can feel your heartbeat move down, down and the ache grows painful. “And so needy, beautiful. I haven’t even really fucking touched you, and I bet you’re dripping.” 

“Please, Ben, you asshole-“

He pulls back, and looks up at you like you’re the best thing he’s ever. With blown-out eyes, his nostrils flaring and his mouth half-open. “You’re so fucking perfect.” He growls, one hand moving up your thigh, running one, broad finger right over your pussy and sending a shiver through your body. “I’m going fucking ruin you. Fuck your beautiful fucking cunt until you can’t sit down, until you can’t walk for a week. You’re going to fucking soak my cock, I’m going to make you so fucking wet and desperate you’re going to fucking scream.” 

You nod, and if you had any sort of thoughts right now that weren’t Ben. Fuck, Ben, I love you. I love you, please, Ben, I love you, fuck, please- you’d point out that you can’t be fucked enough to get sore, you can’t get sore, but Ben moves to rub your clit in one rough movement and you decided that it doesn’t really fucking matter. If he wants to take up that challenge, who are you to stop him. 

“Words.”

“Do that,” you mumble, your whole body going slack as one of Ben’s fingers runs between your slit over your panties, before rising to flick your clit once. “Fuck, Ben, do that, that’s good-“

Your words turn into a whine when he starts to slide you down his body—an arm moving around your waist to keep you upright and pressed against him—and Ben hisses when you brush against his cock. Hard in his pants, long and thick, pressed against your thigh and so close and big and Ben- 

He’s trying to sit you on one of the booth counters, but you lean your weight forward and keep going down. Ben doesn’t try to stop you, his hand moving up to your face as he watches you drop down onto your knees. Level with his cock, grinning up at his slack face. When he says your name, his voice is rasp. “Are you-”

“Yeah,” you move your hands up his thighs, holding his gaze. He needs to look at you like that forever—like you’re all the stars in the sky and the spaces between them—because combined with the way you can see his cock twitch in his pant and how you his  chest is rising and falling in a heavy, uneven pattern, you might cum without Ben even touching you. “Do you want me to?”

He chuckles, leaning back against the divider and tangling his hand into your hair. “What are you supposed to do if I tell you no.”

“Shoot you,” you start to undo his belt buckle, glancing between your hands and Ben’s face. His jaw is clenched and his free hand has moved to grip the counter, leaving an indent on the metal. “I can do that now. I’m good at it.”

“You’re real goddamn confident for only a day of practice-“

“I have a great teacher,” you smile at him, and Ben swallows, glaring at you. “He’s a cunt, but really hot. I think I might let him fuck my face if he asks nicely.” 

“Brat.”

You hum, pulling down his pants, boxers with them. At this point it’s really not worth fighting the small whine that escapes your throat when you see him, because that cock is yours. And you’re going to suck it, if it's the last fucking thing you do. “That’s not nice, Benjamin-“

He growls your name, and when you look back up his eyes on yours are feral. Pushing right through your body, making you grind mindlessly onto nothing and your nails dig into his skin. “Do you want me to fuck your face.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, glancing back at where he’s only centimeters from your mouth. “I do.”

“Well,” he smirks. “Are you going to ask nicely?”

“You dick-“

“My dick, beautiful,” he keeps glancing over your head, looking between you and something behind you that you can’t see. “Is going to fuck your perfect, pretty fucking mouth. If you can’t take it, squeeze both my knees twice. Got it?”

You nod, and your voice is breathless. “Both knees. Twice.”

“I’m going to start slow,” his hands in your hair curls into a fist, pulling your head back until your eyes meet. “And when I cum-“ 

“Inside.” Your words are a little too fast, because Ben grins.

“You want to fucking swallow, Sunshine?”

“You know I swallow, asshole-“

“I don’t know shit,” Ben winks, and you grind down on to the air again. “But I know you’re going be a goddamn work of art with your lips on my cock. And I know you’re going to fucking prove that you can swallow all of me. Ready?”

“Yes-“

The word has barely left your mouth when he slams forward. His cock pushes into your mouth, the head resting at the top of your throat, and Ben’s hand tightens in your hair as he just sits there. His dick on your tongue and your nose brushing his hips, and a whimper leaving your body when Ben groans and you can feel it.

He pulls you off, keeping the tip right between your lips, and tugs your hair until you look up at him. “Good?”

You squeeze his thigh, hold his gaze, and run your tongue around the head on his cock, grazing it with your teeth. Don’t be a pussy, Benjamin. Fuck my face.

His eyes flash, and you hear the metal of the counter whine under his grip as he takes a deep breath, staring behind you again. When he looks back to you, he looks like an angel again. He’s so handsome, and he looks primal and powerful, and you love him. You can tell him that, in a long, desperate noise when his cock is muffling any real words he could hear. He’s looking at you like you’re the holy one, when he’s everything. He’s the whole world, and when he starts to move, all your thoughts just clear to that. Ben. Ben, I love you. 

He’s not holding back. Ben’s hand is guiding your head up and down his cock at a brutal, unrelenting pace, and his hips keep bucking when he hits the back of your throat to the point that you give up on trying to do anything productive and just focus on keeping your gag reflex from choking on him. There’s smoke starting to curl from your hands and the whole world is growing blurry, but fuck, you don’t care. He tastes so good, and every hiss and groan that leaves him is like music, and he’s everything. 

“You’re, fuck,” you suck on him once, just trying to contain the drool falling out of your mouth, and Ben’s hips jerk. “You’re so fucking good. So fucking good, Sunshine, you’re beautiful and perfect and I fucking-“ His words turn into a long, deep strained sound, and you start to grind onto the air. You can’t let go of his legs to touch yourself, you’ll fall over, so all you can do is whine and hope a pillow somehow appears for you to ride. “Fucking Christ,” Ben’s words are pushed between his teeth, and he somehow goes faster. “God, fuck, you’re beautiful. Your mouth was fucking made for my cock, so fucking soft and warm and perfect and, fuck-“

Ben’s hand flies off the counters, joining his other on your head, and he’s close. You can feel the head of his cock twitch when your throat squeezes around it, and his words are starting to slur.

“Fuck, you’re so good, you’re fucking beautiful, and perfect, and fuck, Sunshine, you’re beautiful, you don’t have a goddamn fucking clue how beautiful you are, how much I, fuck-“

You’re dizzy and your brain is clouded with lust, but you’d manage to move one hand off of Ben’s thigh to squeeze his balls. It works just like you’d hoped, and Ben’s whole body tenses as cum shoots, fast and hot, down your throat. You swallow—you’re not a pussy, and you love him more than anything—and Ben’s hands splay against your scalp and cheek. When you pull back your lips make a popping sound, and you smile up at Ben as he looks down at you, his thumb tracing your cheekbone and his breathing loud and ragged. 

“Fucking Christ,” Ben mutters your name, and the devotion is back in his eyes. Devotion and heat and something else you don’t understand. “You’re… Christ.”

“I’m Christ?” You shift on your knees, trying to ignore how the ache is starting to become painful so you can just look at him. “Wow. Don’t tell Butcher, he’s a big god-hater-“ 

Ben pulls you upwards, leaning down to meet you halfway, kissing you until your knees start to shake again and you have to lean against him to avoid falling over.

“Brat,” his growl is paired with a long suck of your upper lip and squeeze of your waist, and you make a high, needy sound. “Want me to show you something?” 

You have literally no idea what he might want to show you, but you nod because right now if Ben asked you to figure out time travel you’re pretty sure it would take you an hour.

He spins you around, pressing your back to his chest, and you realize what he’s been staring at. The mirrors. On the booths. You’d totally forgotten about the mirrors on the booths.

“See how fucking beautiful you are?” Ben’s muttered in your ear, the hot air of his breath making you shiver and try to push further back into his body. “You’re the most beautiful woman in goddamn history. Fuck, you might be the most beautiful thing in history. I don’t know how you ever expected this to be a fair fucking fight, for us not to end up here. Where I’m going to make you feel fucking good and you’re going to watch.”

“Ben-“

“I liked watching you suck my cock, Sunshine.” One of his hands has moved up to palm your breast, and the other has started to trail down, tracing patterns on your stomach. “You looked real fucking pretty, taking my cock all good and deep in your throat, letting me fuck your face and swallowing my cum. But you’ve got a little bit of a problem, don’t you.”

Ben’s watching you in the mirror, locking your gaze with his, a thumb rubbing over your nipple as his hand slides a little lower, resting right below your abdomen. All you can do to answer him is nod, and try to grind up so that his hand will drop further. 

“You’re so fucking desperate for me to touch your perfect fucking cunt,” Ben says your name, and it rolls through your body and sets you on fire. There’s no smoke rising through your body, but everything smells like pine and the whole room is starting to dance with a misty, green light. “That’s your problem, isn’t it. You need me, need me so bad you’ve fucking ruined your underwear just from sucking my cock. I can fucking smell you, Sunshine, you smell fucking delicious.”

He hates you. You’ve made a grave miscalculation in how much Ben likes you, because this is torture. He won’t stop teasing you and calling you beautiful and good and not just fucking touching you. He must hate you, because you’re whining sounds that are meant to be pleas of his name and humping the air near his hand, and Ben won’t just touch you. Ben’s smirking at you in the reflection, and he’s such a cunt and he’s so handsome and you love him and if he doesn’t start doing something right now you’re going to punch him square in his stupid, smug, handsome face.

“You want me to fix your problem?”

“Ben-“

“I know, beautiful.” His hand moves out from under your shirt, moving up to your chin until you’re looking back at him and he can kiss you. Soft, gentle, deceptively innocent. “I’m going to take care of you. All you have to do is-“

He needs to stop being so sweet and good or you’ll tell him you love him. He needs to shut the fuck up and touch you. “Ben, please. Please-“ 

“Please, what?”

“Fucking touch me-“

His hand on your chin pulls your head back down, forcing your eyes back to the mirror right as he tears off your underwear. Ben grins at your reflections, thumb brushing against your lip as his hold on your chin loosens slightly, and his hand drops down, resting right between your thighs without just moving.

“God, you’re fucking wet,” he’s still whispering right into your ear, and it’s making you a little lightheaded. “Is this all for me, beautiful? All for me to take care of?”

You start trying to grind down onto his hand, and Ben’s free arm drops back down to pin your hips against him, muscles rippling when your try to squirm away and he’s kissing your neck and hie won’t move- “Ben-“

“No,” he grunts, hand moving back up  your shirt to brush your tits, face buried into your shoulder where you can’t actually see him. “My turn. You’re going to relax, and I’m going to do this for you.”

“Please-“

He says your name, pulling back to meet your eyes in the mirror. “You trust me.”

Not a question. You both know the answer, and it’s more for Ben to hear it. You know that, because when you glare yes, at him through the mirror, he grins. You’re about him to just do something, anything, whatever he wants as long as he’s touching you, when he moves.

Ben’s finger pushes right into you, pumps once, twice, and then is joined by a second one. “Fucking tight,” he growls in your ear, still watching you. Always watching you. “Look at how fucking beautiful you are, squirming on my fucking fingers. I’ve barely even touched you, Sunshine, and you’re already fucking squeezing me.” 

You make a loud, shameless moan as he starts to move faster, playing with your boobs with his hand up your shirt and muttering pure filth into your ear.

“So fucking good. Look at how fucking good you take me, beautiful, and this is just my hand. Just my goddamn hand that’s making you whine, whine like the perfect fucking brat you are, fucking soaking my fingers, covering me in how much you fucking want me. So goddamn perfect, you’re perfect, it’s not even a fucking contest. So fucking good and perfect, going to cum all over my fingers, look at how fucking beautiful you are with your perfect fucking mouth all swollen and your pretty fucking eyes watching me ruin you-“

He groans, because you’ve figured out that you can grind backwards, into him.

“God, fucking Christ, woman, you’re driving me fucking insane-“

Ben rambles start to turn into just low, deep sounds that roll straight through your body and down into your core. He’s still talking, and you know he’s saying words, but you’re high. Ben’s fingers are big and broad and rough inside of you, and they keep brushing against that one spot deep in your body, and he won’t stop scissoring them when they push all the way in. He keeps driving his fingers into your pussy, curling and twisting them with harsh, fast movements, and yanking them out until you can see them in the mirror. See your need for him falling off his hand, see them disappear back inside you, see his palm start to rise up to press against your clit and rub.

“Ben-“

“So fucking good,” He growls against your skin, half-pulling you off the ground. “I fucking adore you, Sunshine, fuck, see how goddamn perfect you are? Look at you, so fucking beautiful, all wrecked on just my hand-“ 

You do look beautiful. Ben is wrapped around you—he looks almost animalistic as you grind back into him with your head pressed into his shoulder—and you’re not sure if it’s the lights dancing through the room or the way that some sort of soft music seems to be playing in the distance, but you’re beautiful. You think, in the haze, that it might be how Ben’s watching you. That his eyes on yours are full of lust and hunger and affection, and you feel like something better than what you are. You’re barely in control of yourself, grinding back into Ben and countless, wanting sounds leaving your body, and you feel like wildfire. Like a star, burning and burning against the infinite way that Ben exists around you. Beautiful. But you look at Ben, watching you like you’re all the stars and planets and everything through and past the universe, and he’s better. You mold perfectly against him, and his dark hair is falling over his eyes as he ruts up into you. If you could think enough to make yourself move, you’d reach up and brush it away. But your hands are clinging to his arm over your stomach—you can see his muscles flex with every movement and it makes you squirm—and all you can do is meet his eyes in the mirror. He’s watching you whine and moan and writhe against him, and his jaw is slack, and he’s everything. Ben is everything, and he’s looking at you like you’re holy and crucial, so you’re beautiful. Ben doesn’t lie, so you’re beautiful. 

Ben’s palm rubbing circles on your clit start moving in faster, smaller movements right as his fingers press down inside of you and he bucks up into your ass, you almost scream as you cum. He’s still just watching you—eyes blown out and jaw slack—and when your legs give out he scoops you up into his arms, tearing his gaze from the mirror and meeting your eyes. I love you. Ben. Ben, I love you.

“You’re okay.” When you nod, your brain still a little slow, he frowns. “Words-“

“I’m okay, Ben.” You smile at him, reaching a hand up to trace his jawline. “I’m going to have to buy you a thesaurus, but I’m good.”

He snorts, rolling his eyes. “Well, you clearly fucking liked it-“

“I wasn’t of sound mind, Pretty Boy. Corrupt testimony.” You shrug, leaning further into his body. “You need to learn a few more words.”

Ben grins at you. “Someone’s trying to talk herself out of a proper fucking when we get home.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“See if I give a fuck.” He kisses the top of your head, and you wrap your arms around his neck. He’s so warm. You can’t feel him, but Ben’s still so warm. “You want a proper fucking?”

You swallow. “Yes, please.” 

“Then here’s how this is gonna go.” Ben leans back, holding your gaze. “We’re going to put on your shorts, and I’m going to put on my pants. We’re going back home, and cleaning up, then going to dinner because you’re going to need the energy. Then, the moment the door closes behind us, I’m fucking you. In our bed. Deal?”

Your voice is a whisper. “Deal.”

“Good.”

He helps you get dressed. Ben pulls his pants back on—shifting his body to block yours from the door—and let you use his arm as balance while you put your shorts back up your legs.

Your underwear has been effectively destroyed, and when Ben picks it up you think it’s going straight into the trash can, but instead he shoves it into his pockets and winks at you.

“Pervert-“ 

“Shut the fuck up.”

He tries to carry you. Ben bends down, and you have to whack him to stop him from picking you up and carrying you down the hall. He pouts—the grumpy, annoyed pout that means he being a little bitch about something—but settles for slinging his arm over your shoulder and tucking you into his side. He smells good. He’s big and strong and warm and Ben, and you can’t feel him. You’re okay. You can touch him, but not feel him, and you’re okay. 

It’s later than you’d thought it was. Barely twilight—everything cast in a blue-purple glow—and Ben tells you you’re taking the first shower. Demands it, actually. Grumbles about how I fucking showered this morning, and you’re the one covered in cum, Sunshine until you relent, because you’ve lost stupider arguments with him and you are indeed covered in cum. Mostly yours, running a little down your thigh, but some of Ben’s had managed to escape your mouth and dried on your chin and shoulders. Ben walks you upstairs and into the bathroom, drops on the bed with a frown as you start to close the door, and you love him a little too much to leave him looking like a lost puppy dog in the dark. Especially when it’s really not that much effort to cross the room and stand between his legs, to give him one last gentle kiss until his hands relax on your hips and he’s grinning against your mouth. 

Ben. Ben, I love you.

The shower is almost burning. Steam collects on the glass door and your skin is still sensitive from the gun range, the hum of the fan the only sound tangling in with the water.

It’s been coming in waves. It’s important for you to recognize that this is coming in waves. When you tell Ben you’re okay, you really are. You’re okay. Then. In that moment, when you’re smiling and laughing with the people you love and care about, you’re okay. When Ben looks at you—really looks at you, sees you in a way no one else does—you’re okay.

And then you’re not. Then it’s silent, and you’re cold even with the scalding water, and that fan is humming in the same key that ones in Homelander’s apartment did. And you’re so tired.

Something feels wrong in your body. It feels like a limb has been cut off, like something’s been taken out that’s vital to your existence. The longer it’s gone—the longer it’s just you, alone in your body—the worse it gets. The more you can feel that part of you that snapped in Vought tower, and all you can feel it is flailing around in your body, trying to find where it can fit back in. It’s making you sick, it’s making everything cold again. You’re broken, and afraid, and exhausted, and all this fear has to stay in you. All of this pain has to live and fester in your body, and you’re not strong enough to stomp it out. Weak. 

You hate not feeling Ben. He’s not touching you, and you can’t feel that imprint of him in your chest, and you’re alone. You can’t control yourself, keep your shit together and keep your love or panic or pain in your body, so now you’re alone. Ben’s just outside—waiting for you to finish showering—but the fan is humming like you’re back in the tower and they had warm showers there as well. Weak.

Everything is wrong. You’re broken and exhausted and in pain and weak. Ben is staying and you don’t get why, and people aren’t giving up on you but they should. You’re making everything worse for everyone, and you’re so cold, and the whole world can see how weak you are but you’re tricking your friends and lying and you’re weak. Useless, lying, manipulative bitch. Nobody stays, because why would they? Unlovable, better alone, better never being touched or loved because nobody could love you, you’re too weak.

You can’t feel your tears falling, any evidence of them being washed away with the water and the steam, but your eyes hurt and your throat is sore. You can’t breathe, and you’re drowning and alone, and you must have started screaming because the door bangs open and Ben bursts into the room. You think you say his name, but it’s so loud. Your blood is pounding in your ears and it can’t get out, and the fan is suffocating you, and Ben’s here but you can’t feel him. You can’t feel anything but freezing, painful, cold.

He turns off the fan. His fist slams into the wall, the sound stutters off, and you still can’t really breathe but now you can hear him. He’s saying your name, pulling off his shoes and opening the shower door. His hands move to his shirt, but you make a weak, choked sob and he freezes. 

“Fuck it.” 

You hear that. You hear his grunt, and watch as he pushes into the water, let him pull your head against his chest and hold you. You’re shaking and making strangled, weak noises, but he’s holding you up and staying. You don’t know why, but Ben’s really, truly staying. He’s humming in a low, horrible voice that rolls through your body and slowly starts to clear your head, and when he says your name this time you can nod, so he continues.

“What’s wrong.”

“I, I can’t-“

“Breathe,” he mutters, hand running up and down your back. “I’m here, you’re safe, and this is real. We’ve got all the damn time in the world, so fucking breathe.”

It takes another minute, of uneven, heavy inhales and long, sobbing exhales, but you finally manage to whisper the full sentence. “I can’t fight him again.”

You can hear his frown, but he doesn’t ask who. You both know, and Ben doesn’t waste time on clarification. “There’s not a chance in hell-“ 

“There is,” you mumble. “There’s always a chance. And I can’t. If I have to, I won't be strong enough, I can’t fight him again.” Your words are vomiting out of your body, your head shaking against Ben’s chest like you can push the thought—push Homelander’s cruel, callous voice—out of your head forever. “I’ll lose, I can’t lose, I can’t go back-“

Ben snaps your name, and you let out a shaky, weak breath. “Fucking listen to me. You are never fighting that pussy alone again. Ever. That’s fucking it. End of story. You can cry all you goddamn want, as long as you understand that you are never fucking going back there, and as long as I’m fucking alive he will never touch you again.” 

You make another soft sound, and nod. “I’m sorry-“

“No. You’re fucking everything to me, and if you’re burning, it’s not without me. So don’t fucking apologize.”

This time you just let out a breath, and wrap your arms fully around his body. “Thank you.”

He doesn’t push that one. Ben just grunts, and holds you tighter against him, shielding you from the water, still holding you like you’re sacred. Always holding you like you’re sacred. Like you can’t be broken, because the fire in your body will seal the cracks back together, and he’ll be here while it does. Words are coming a little easier, mumbled into his shirt, and you’re still broken but it’s not wrong anymore. “I’m tired, Ben. I’m so tired.”

“I know,” you can feel the heave of his chest as he sighs, and you think you might just fall asleep here. You’re safe, Ben would pick you up, and you’re so tired. “Sleep, Sunshine. I’m here.”

He’s here. Ben’s here, and saying all the right things, so right before you collapse against him, you smile. His heart is right under your head on his chest, and you can’t feel him but he’s real.

“You’re home.” Ben mutters onto the crown of your head. “That’s all that fucking matters.”

This time, when he’s warmer than the water and stronger than all the fear in your body, his heart lulling you to sleep, you believe him.

End Note: Big character centered chapter, I know, but we have to EARN the confession. Who do you guys think is gonna slip up and say I love you first. I know who I’m putting money on, but also that’s insider trading.

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

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[glassrowboat]

Daydream in a Nightmare

Authors note: I read a soulmate au where with dream sharing. Everytime you fall asleep you and your SM would meet in a world that would reflect your consciousness and who you were. So down below are the boys and what I think the places their dreams would depict.

Mondstadt

Diluc: The cathedral. His mom, back when she was alive, used to play during service and afterwards Diluc ran over greeting her with the biggest smile, asking her to play him one more song. She never failed to. Maybe that's why there's always a gentle melody playing whenever you see him as he rests his fingers over the same white tiles, simply trying to remember how to play.

Kaeya: The Dawn Winery. Or at least parts of it. Behind closed doors there's the scent of grass, of dirt, and the faintest smell of ash. He says it's simply the vineyard that in the real world would be right outside, but he knows well as he pulls your hand from the doorknob that it's ruins of a fallen nation haunting him right on the other side.

Albedo: Glass walls. A maze of mirrors and reflections. If you ever have stopped to bother to count between Albedo’s musings as he shares with you the secrets of the world, you'd notice that for some reason he always has more reflections in the walls around you than of your own figure. Like there's more of him than there is of you.

Venti: Old Mondstadt. Back before the revolution, back when there were people in the streets wishing their God weren't so unjust, but in his dreams that wall of spiraling wind is never there. A warped perception of a life he wished to have lived as he sits in your lap not as Venti the bard, but a wind sprite trying to bury into your clothes for warmth. Just don't call him pipsqueek or he'll try and bite your fingers. Playfully. You think.

Liyue

Zhongli: A place that no longer exists, one torn away by this world during the archon war. It's unlike him not to comment on a place, a trinket, an item, as you pick something up and fiddle with it, but this place he never goes into full detail on. However, he will tell you all about the artisanship of the table you two are sharing tea over.

Baizhu: His home back in Chenyu Vale, back before the illness hit his village, back before his parents passed away. Just a modest home that shows signs of being truly well lived in and loved. Mindlessly while you two talk he'll be cleaning the place, just the way he always does at the pharmacy. Though it does help give him something to fill the silence. It turns out he's a lot more used to Changsheng chiming in with comments than he thought. He just hopes you two get along when the time to meet in person finally comes about.

Ga ming: A festival. There's water kicking up at everyone's feet, up to everyones ankles as people with their face covered in all manner of masks walk you both by. Ga ming would pull you along from booth to booth, trying his best to win prizes despite the fact you both know they'll be gone by the time you wake.

Xiao: A Chinese pavilion in the sky. You walk among the clouds as you follow the path of the street, looking over the accents that seem somehow both rich in color and dull, muddied all at the same time. Something you've noticed from his dreams compared to yours, his always have a lingering black fog creeping in at the corner of your eyes. It makes you feel like someone else is in this world with you, like there's eyes waiting to do more than just watch.

Inazuma

Kazooha: A meadow. The wind passes you both by, stirring up pages of books you two sit reading in silence. You can't help but wonder if these are all books he's read before, especially the ones that wax poetry or something else. His thoughts, perhaps? Maybe Kazuha's very own writings? But that matters little as his head is resting on your shoulder as you try to catch words between the fluttering sheets of paper.

Itto: A kabuki play. It always ends up in you two hiding away in the back room where the performers would get ready before getting back out on stage for the next act. You would see the brightest of colors, richest of fabrics, and practiced movements so fine tuned that you can't understand why Itto is so focused on taking the makeup on the vanity in the back simply so he can paint your face with red marks just like his. To each their own you suppose, and who are you to complain when it means drawing hearts on his arm when Itto isn't paying attention?

Gorou: A tea house. It's a small place, simple, but certainly not lacking charm as Gorou pours you a cup. At first the fact you could actually taste the rich herbs on your tongue in this dreamscape threw you off, but now it's just another part of this odd reality. But saying that, the first time you spat out the drink he offered as soon as the bitter taste hit you. Apparently he never expected you to not already be used to green tea. The poor fella was apologizing for the rest of the night, ears laid flat on his head and tail tucked between his legs. It's okay though, you made it even by trying to give him dog treats. It was you having to beg for forgiveness then.

Thoma: It was different this time. No glowing blue flowers and a forest that you two would stroll through mindlessly while chatting for hours. No, this time Thoma was sitting on a wooden platform below a giant stone statue. Intriguing, yes, but mattered little compared to the rope burns around his wrist. He tried to tell you not to worry about it. That it was an accident. But that mattered little as your lips pressed to the red, irritated skin and he gave you a strained smile. You knew better than to ask about it more from there.

Ayato: It's ever changing. It's like he is constantly thinking of something whenever He falls asleep and it reflects in his dreams. Once it was a Japanese styled room the next it was some room in Fontaine's architecture. But it's always a bedroom. A place of relaxation as Ayato buries his head in your lap like it was a pillow. He'll whine about being overworked until you're tempted to pull on his hair just to make the man shut up for once, but last time you did that it led to the bed being used for a lot more than just rest. For now just pat his head and let him vent, the man needs it.

Sumeru

Kaveh: A sketch brought to life from his mothers blueprints. One he saw his mother sketching back when Kaveh was a boy and she would let him sit on her lap, let him comment on the drawings. She would always find some way to incorporate his addictions into the sketch. Nowadays he knows the building that was actually constructed in the end to be simpler, duller than the one his mother wanted, but in his dreams with you it stands tall and proud.

Al Haitham: An attic. It's dusty and it clearly had a hole in the roof that was covered over by some wooden planks and nails. A patch work job that needs to be fixed but if you ever take the time to bother with it while Al Haitham sits in an old rocking chair covered by a quilt reading the night away it will only be there the next dream cycle. It pisses you off. He pisses you off. All nonchalance and an apathetic look even as you plop yourself in his lap and take that book away. And what pisses you off even more? How he dares to call you needy as he holds you close. It's best to ignore the fact he started reading over your shoulder.

Tighnari: Pardis Dhyai. He'll sit on the walkway watching you kick the water of the ponds around, paying no mind to when you splash at him. Not anymore at least. He's learned quickly if he makes a snarky comment you'll give one back and it'll go on and on until somehow it ends in him getting dragged into the pond with you. Both dripping algae filled water as he wondered what gods made this numbskull his mate.

Cyno: Lambad's Tavern. Everytime he would come back from treks in the desert he would go there, get a drink, and play a round of cards with whoever was willing. It was a pattern. Work, work, rest, and more work. But now he didn't have to constantly be on work mode as he sat with you in the old booth shuffling cards as he tried to explain to you how TCG works. So far everytime you lose you've thrown those elemental dice and him, and with a smile he lets them hit him in the head despite being fully able to dodge them. His soulmate is such a sore loser.

Wanderer: Shakkei Pavilion. He hates it. Hates that this is the place his unconscious has chosen to sink onto so stubbornly. His wooden fingers would slide over the paintings depicting Scaramouche’s past that has now been severed from him in everyone's eyes but Nahida and the Traveler. If you knew, would you still hold his hand? Would you still trace the details of his joints and comment that you find his pretty face such a stark contrast to his sharp words? He's afraid to find out, the idea that you might be his fourth betrayal always lingering in the back of his mind.

Fontaine

Neuvillette: Under the water where the currents would carry stray bits of seaweed and fish swimming past. The first time you shared a dream with him here he had to calm you down as instinctively you held your breath, taking your hands in his and assuring you if he can talk like this, you can suck in air just as well. It took some time getting used to, but now he watches as you grab starfish off the ocean floor and bring them over to him like a prize to be presented. This is what humans must be like Neuvillette tells himself as you braid them into his hair.

Worcestershire sauce: A home. A nice one at that. Big, had decent furnishings, pictures of kids hung up on the wall. If you listened closely enough you could even hear children playing outside from the cracked open windows that showed the brightest sky outside. Wriothesly would walk behind you as you would watch the grass blowing in the wind, not saying a word as he rested his chin on top of your head. He never thought he'd be back here again. The very place made him feel sick to his stomach, but with you? It was bearable. Even as you tried to grab his handcuffs from him.

Snezhnaya

Childe: His childhood home. Back before the renovations he bought for the place with his money as a harbinger, back before the redecorating of rooms to fit more children, and back to what the house was like when he was just a boy yet to fall into the abyss. Back when everything was simpler. He would pick up toys that have gone missing, never to be seen again and stare in wonder how it all is exactly how he remembers it. It makes it so much easier to be Ajax with you, rather than Tartaglia.

Dottore: The hospital he was working in when trying to help Eleazar patients. For the life of him does he hate it, being back in the desert always having to tip his shoes out of sand that never seems to fully clear off. It doesn't help you try and pour sand down his shirt, but in a way he supposes it's better you two stay out here under that blistering sun than you going inside to be met with the smell of death. No, you don't need to know about that side of him just yet.

Pantalone: His office. It always makes it hard to tell at first if he's awake, not when the same scene greets him either way. You always joke about him being married to his work and you're the mistress in this relationship. At this point he counts on the comment as soon as his eyes flutter open and he's greeted with the sight of you sitting on the desk he's been using as a pillow. Still, he can never help the genuine smile at seeing you once again.

Captain: A flower field. The snowdrops peek out from under the fluffy blanket of white powder, crunching under every step he takes. Even in his dreams the cold of Snezhnaya is ever present, ever biting. It only makes sense you are shivering behind him even as he lets you steal his cloak that is more of a blanket on you than anything. This field, he knows it well, knows that what waters these flowers is more blood than anything else, but that matters little as he wraps his arms around you. Maybe he can find a way to dream you a proper jacket.

Pierro: A grand hall. It reminds you of the way ballrooms are described in romance stories as the couple depicted would dance the night away. Columns so high you have to tilt your head back just to see where they meet the ceiling covered in paintings you've never seen before. That is until Pierro steps into your view. He always offered his hand to you before you could ask, and as your fingers interlocked he would tell you about them. Always ready to answer your questions. It meant someone was curious about a part of his long lost nation. So, of course, he was always happy to share.

Scaramouche: A never ending fire. It's a small shack, engulfed by flames that never seem to dwindle or burn out the wood it feeds on. Like this place was stuck in time in his mind. He doesn't talk to you, not any more than a sharp shut up. The only time that glare he showed you disappeared is when you pulled your hand back from the curious fire with a hiss, not expecting it to actually hurt in this fake reality. For a moment you could have sworn he took a step towards you, but he never came any closer than that as he hissed at you to be careful. Dumb mortals should at least know not to burn themselves.

[grimesgirll]

“are you guys coming to bed?”

you’re sitting up halfway, half lidded eyes fighting the hard fight to stay open.

blue eyes meet yours from the inside of the en-suite. “yes, one moment, sweetheart.”

your chest falls with your huffy breath. poised to pout, you splay yourself back onto the bedspread. what the fuck is taking so long? you’re about ready to bury your face in the pillow.

needy is the only word to describe you in the aftermath of nights like tonight.

fucked several times over, you couldn’t stand to be so far apart from your men. at least one of them should be on the satin blue sheets with their sinewy arms around you. their absence aches. you know someone has to throw away the condoms, fetch you a clean sleep shirt, toss the used towels in the hamper, etcetera. however, you’re too needy for them to just throw you one of rick’s oversized shirts and hang out in the bathroom without you.

you stretch your arms in an attempt to extinguish the last traces of energy in your system but you know you’d feel infinitely better in a pair of toned arms. head rolling to face the bathroom, you’re unlucky enough not to catch either of their gazes. it’s only your loud pouts that snap them out of whatever conversation they’re having.

“is someone in there whinin’?”

rick’s sultry smooth voice reignites something in you that has you responding with nothing but a hazed out moan. emphasizing the manner in which you flip yourself over to your stomach, sticking your ass up when you bury your face into the clean sheets in protest.

“don’t tell me she’s poutin’ again.”

“sounds like exactly that.”

you do your best to hide your snide smile when the bed lowers slightly right beside you.

“what do you need? a kiss?” the ex-sheriff plants an arm into the soft bed beside you to lean over and rotate you onto your back, caressing your hair and tonguing your mouth open - not that you gave up a fight.

“mhm,” you yowl into his mouth.

a matching groan rumbles from his throat as rick reaches down to inspect your panties. he chuckles. “just as i expected, two cocks and you’re still craving another release, silly girl.”

whenever he gets his fingers in your hair, you’re putty in rick’s hands. the simple sensation is satisfying enough to have you wincing when he withdraws his fingers, nearly kicking in desperation.

you can’t complain though because before you know it the man is moving his fingers from your hair to attack your entrance.

“shit,” you gasp into his mouth when two fingers pry you open.

“pretty girl need some lovin’ before she falls asleep?” daryl whispers into your ear and appears on your opposite side.

“just a little more.” rick concludes, lazily pumping a finger into you while you squirm beneath him. “i think we tuckered her out. maybe we give her one last release for being such a good girl and put her to bed.”

you nod eagerly and like that daryl is descending between your legs to lift up your rick’s oversized sleep shirt. still underwear free from when you’d first climbed in bed with them, daryl’s tongue lands on your sensitive center.

the redneck’s auburn locks are in your hands instantly as you pant, “daryl, fuck.”

“this how you like to wind down?” rick mocks with a mouth on your rosy right bud.

you muster enough energy to nod your head. “mhmm.”

“do the sounds of daryl lapping up your slutty pussy help you fall asleep before bed?”

your mouth falls open at the question. all you can do is babble, blubbering when rick bites down on your chest. “rick!”

“honey,” rick’s tone turns serious. blue eyes honing in on your cloudy stare. “awfully rude to be just callin’ my name when dear daryl’s the one fucking you with his tongue.” you can’t argue with that. “why don’t you give him some credit?”

crying out, a sob starts your apology. “sorry, daryl. your tongue feels so good,” you stutter through teary eyes, legs and lips quivering. “thank you for taking care of me before bed.”

daryl doesn’t respond; too focused on the task at hand.

rick’s face is still smug. “why don’t you ask daryl for permission to come, sweetheart?” rick muses with a hardened nipple between his fingers, painfully turning it over the pad of his forefinger and watching your face twist with wanton need.

“daryl!” you’re howling.

the man doesn’t stop.

rick snickers. “try again, honey,” he’s traveling up the bed to bestow a peck on your lips before they’re parting to plead at the man who’s taking you apart with his tongue.

“daryl, please,” you’re borderline wailing now, tempting rick with your fucked out tears and irregular breath. chest rising and falling with every respiration, you’re red with the need for release and the need for the redhead beneath you to spare you some grace. “please, i need to come, daryl. please, i want to come so bad, can i come? daryl!”

for the first moment in minutes, the archer briefly pops his vacuum of a mouth off of your weeping slit to give you the most serious look before granting you permission to, “make a mess, girl.”

leaning into daryl’s blessing, you ground your hips against his face and squeeze the hand that’s intertwined with rick’s as the pressure that had been heightening explodes.

the circles daryl’d paired with his unforgiving tongue do nothing but pulsate the pressure deeper throughout your sensitive bundle of nerves. the same nerves that were flaring and rocking you in galvanizing pangs of pleasure as if they’d also gotten that memo that daryl had given you permission to cum, encouraged by the warm tongue flat against you.

it’s only when your legs are about to collapse on top of his tawny head that daryl retreats, giving your spent cunt a light slap for good measure.

his face is glistening just as your cunt had been when he dove headfirst between your legs.

you’re bending forward towards him in an anxious effort to have him on your lips again. he’d been so close to you - you need him to be that close again. that’s why you’re about to sob when he gets up to head to the dresser. your tantrum is paused once you see that he’s bringing your water bottle to your lips.

the thoughtful man brings the straw to your lips, allowing you to take a long drink and signal for him to place the bottle on the nightstand. it’s not ten seconds before he’s grasping your face and giving you the long, drawn out good night kiss you’re always craving from him.

daryl’s flush against your left when your lips disconnect. if rick hadn’t caught you in his arms, daryl would’ve been closer but he’ll be rising early to hunt anyways, and he wouldn’t want to wake you.

rick’s arm lays atop your pillow and his head tucked on top of yours as you start to drift off, “night, sweet girl” being the last words you hear before you fall into the coziest slumber.

[motthe]

Congratulations on reaching 2k! Every bit deserved your writing and characterization is always so amazing 🫶🏼

For the event, Could I request a Drabble of rivals/ crushes snowed in with Ekko with a she/her reader? (Possible accidental confession perhaps?)

I need more ekko content in my life 🥹 Ekko presents tough but he’s such a sweet lover boy!

Thank you for this event! And thank you for blessing us with your writing 💖

tysm!! i’m always so happy to hear the characters sound like themselves 😭 i hope you enjoy the drabble!

warnings: spoilers for s2 despite this being a modern au, grieving, mentions of jayvik, fem!reader

Professor Heimerdinger had been a phenomenal professor. You were thankful to have made it in to every one of his lectures in your college career. He had always been a spontaneous character, treating his students like family.

After his funeral, you weren’t too surprised when Ekko appeared. You both had been gunning for the top grades in classes, the most genius designs, the greater anything. He was a worthy opponent, taking his defeats in a respectable manner. When he won, you’d have to suffer one of those insufferable smirks and a tick of his eyebrow but you had come to enjoy them.

You’re not sure when the jealousy of his mind had turned to attraction.

He was well dressed for the ceremony, all suit and tie and raw eyes. You wanted to hold him, but you settled for a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Left a letter to us,” he said, holding up an envelope.

“Heimerdinger did love dramatics,” you joked, stepping closer as paper unfolded. For this you let your head fall to his shoulder, feeling as much as ewing the shake in his hands. You helped steady it.

“Can you…”

“Of course,” you whispered, clearing your throat and reading it aloud. You were teary-eyed by the second sentence.

The letter detailed how proud he was of you and Ekko and that he was sorry to leave the world before he saw both of you graduate. He’d never married or had a family, but he considered the two of you his own. He also asked if one of you would care for his cat, Poro, until a proper home was found.

“I’ve been taking care of him,” Ekko said. “I don’t have the room in my apartment so I’ve been spending time at Heimerdinger’s place. Helped Jayce and Viktor clean some stuff out.”

Another generation of assistants and protégés. They were married, too.

“Could you take him for a bit? He’s a good cat,” Ekko promised.

“Of course,” you said. “I’ll go grab him now.”

“I’ll go with you. I have some stuff I need to grab.”

That was exactly how you ended up snowed in at Heimerdinger’s residence with your rival and crush, Ekko, and Poro the cat skirting your feet.

“This feels like one of his schemes,” you chuckled as Ekko got the fireplace in the living room going. “Remember when he locked us in the lab until we stopped fighting?”

“He forgot about us until the next morning,” Ekko finished, smiling over his shoulder.

You giggled, reaching down to pull the cat into your arms. “I can still feel the crick in my neck from falling asleep at the desk.”

“It worked, though.” Ekko settled back on the carpet as the fire roared to life. “We got along a bit better after that.”

“We respected each other,” you chuckled. “I had to after you picked the lock.”

He shrugged. “I’m a man of many talents.”

Sitting down beside him, you both basked in the warm glow, shoulder to shoulder. The sound of the wind outside alongside the crackling wood calmed the nerves of being so close to him, well almost.

“He’s well behaved around girls,” Ekko said, looking to Poro in your lap. The car purred, raising his head as a strong hand ran over his back. “He hates Viktor. I think Heimerdinger mentioned something about a laser?”

“Like a toy laser?”

Ekko shrugged. “Either way he’s a lot more careful around guys, but he’s warmed up to me over the years.”

Yeah, you thought, who wouldn’t?

“I’d like to keep him,” you murmured, scratching under his whiskers. “Just have to figure some things out first. I’ll manage it.”

“I can help,” Ekko offered.

You shook your head. “You’ve already done so much. Let me.”

“I love the little troublemaker too.”

“Then you can visit him.”

“Yeah?” His eyes glinted as he looked at you.

“Yeah,” you agreed, heart thundering. His shoulder nudged yours, sending sparks down your shoulder and into your stomach.

“Only him?”

Your breath caught. For being the top of your class, you sure went brain dead by a simple question.

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking away. “I just…”

“No,” you said, “I mean, yes you can visit. Not just for the cat. Don’t apologize.”

“If you were uncomfortable—”

You shook your head, grabbing his arm. “I’m not. Just nervous, surprised…”

“Surprised?” he huffed, the start of a smile on his lips.

“What? I don’t know,” you scrambled, feeling too hot. Poro stretched before walking away, leaving you to die of your embarrassment.

“I’ve been crushing on you for a while,” he chuckled, “I thought you noticed.”

“I’m a genius in school, Ekko, not,” you gestured haphazardly between you, “this.”

He busted out laughing. You tumbled into it with him, the sound far too contagious.

“First the lab, now his house,” Ekko sighed later on, the two of you leaning against one another on the couch. “This does feel like Heimerdinger’s doing.”

It did. One day you’d have to thank him for bringing you together.

[that-one-ostrich-friend]

Soft Night

king caspian x reader

word count: 500

summary: a quiet night after a long day

warnings: none

     The fire crackled in the hearth of the stone castle, its warmth spreading through the room and casting gentle shadows on the walls. Outside, the wind whispered through the trees of Narnia, a reminder of the untamed wilderness that lay beyond the castle's protective walls. Inside, however, it was warm, cozy, and peaceful — an atmosphere that was a rare treat for King Caspian.

     He had been busy all day, meeting with the Lords and ladies, listening to their concerns, and overseeing the peace in Narnia. But now, as the day began to fade and the first stars twinkled in the velvet sky, he found himself retreating from the demands of his crown to the solace of the private chambers he shared with her.

     Y/n was curled up by the fire, a book resting in her lap, but she had long since stopped reading. The soft glow of the flames illuminated her face, and Caspian couldn’t help but smile at the sight. There was something about her, something that calmed the storm inside him. The weight of the crown, the responsibility of the throne, all seemed to melt away whenever she was near.

     “Are you still reading, love?” Caspian’s voice broke the silence, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet as he moved towards her.

     She looked up from her book, her face lighting up with a smile. “Not really. Just… resting my eyes,” she admitted, closing the book and setting it aside.

     Caspian chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with affection. He sat down beside her, his warm presence radiating as he drew her closer. His fingers gently brushed through her hair, a touch so tender it made her heart flutter.

     “It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?” he murmured, his voice hushed, as though he didn’t want to disturb the peaceful tranquility of the moment.

     She nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here, Caspian,” she whispered, content to simply be in his company, to have him near. The weight of the day was still heavy on his shoulders, but he seemed to forget all of it when she was close.

     His hand moved to the back of her neck, his fingers tracing idle patterns on her skin. "I’m always here for you," he said softly, his voice full of sincerity. "You know that, right?"

     She nodded again, letting the comfort of his words wash over her. "I know," she replied, her eyes closing as she relaxed further into him.

     Slowly she began to fall asleep, the only sound in the room was the crackling fire and the soft rustle of the wind outside. The steady beat of Caspian’s heart against her side grounding her in a way nothing else could.

     Caspian’s fingers tightened around hers, and he pulled her even closer, as though he could never have enough of her presence. 

     "You’re my greatest treasure," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Everything else can wait when I’m with you."

     The world outside may have been vast and full of challenges, but in this moment, in his arms, nothing else mattered. The kingdom of Narnia, with all its glory and troubles, could wait.

     He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his fingers gently threading through her hair.

     And for that moment, at least, the world outside the castle faded away. 

[saltyprincessblog]

Imagine: Driving late at night with Billy Butcher

The road was a dark blur beneath the tires, the only light coming from the dim glow of the dashboard and the headlights cutting through the night. Butcher kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting on her legs, which were draped across his lap. Her bare feet pressed against his thigh, warm and familiar, like she belonged there.She was half-asleep, head tilted back against the window, eyes closed, a small smile playing on her lips. Butcher glanced over, catching the rise and fall of her chest, the way she seemed so at peace, even with the storm brewing inside him. It was always like this—her, calm and content, while he wrestled with whatever demons clawed at his mind.He gave her leg a light squeeze, rough thumb tracing over the smooth skin just above her ankle. She shifted a little, adjusting her legs on him, and mumbled something under her breath that sounded like a contented sigh.

“You alright there, luv?” His voice was low, a little gravelly, carrying that edge it always had, but softer, somehow, when he talked to her.

She nodded, not bothering to open her eyes. “Mhmm, just don’t drive us off the road, yeah?”. He smirked, eyes back on the road. “Can't promise that.”

The night was quiet, just the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of wind through the cracked window. Butcher liked it this way—just the two of them, the world outside falling away. His hand stayed on her leg, fingers moving absently over her skin, a touch that was both possessive and comforting.She shifted again, getting more comfortable, and her foot nudged against the gear stick. Butcher just chuckled, letting her do as she pleased. There was something about her, the way she let herself be so at ease around him, that made the constant knot in his chest loosen just a bit.

“Gotta say, you make a pretty good passenger, luv. A hell of a lot better than Hughie—kid just can’t shut his gob for five minutes.”

She let out a soft laugh ,“Yeah? Guess he doesn't keep you warm like me huh?” she teased, voice lazy and mischievous. Butcher chuckled, giving her leg a gentle squeeze.“Nah, his legs don’t fit the space" , Billy joked, which made her giggle.

He let his hand drift up, brushing against her calf, a small, almost unconscious gesture, like he needed to feel her there, to know she was real.

They drove on, the road stretching out ahead, the night closing in around them.Butcher didn’t need to say it, but this—her presence, her warmth, the way she made him feel a little less broken—was what kept him grounded, kept him from spiraling completely. Even if he’d never say it out loud, he knew she was the one thing that made the chaos in his life a little easier to bear.

[chocoshrooms]

Fluff creepypasta headcanons?

:: FLUFF CREEPYPASTA HEADCANONS ::

• i do not own the image above •

NOTES ( i just went with adding random fluff headcanons of various creeps because i wasn’t too sure what to write exactly. hopefully this is what you wanted… but if not, feel free to request more! this took so long to get out, i’m sorry! life is a bit hectic sometimes but i still love to write when possible :) )

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:; brian will hold doors open for you, he lets you in the room before he enters himself no matter where you are. even when you are away from the manor/their homes! he also opens vehicle doors, too

:; toby and ben will remove anything from your hair that gets stuck, they’ll also adjust your hair if your hairstyle gets out of place. this gives them an excuse to gently touch you and they “look like a gentleman”

:; brian, ben, eyeless jack, dark link and toby always give their S/O a kiss goodbye no matter where they are going. you could literally be going outside to hangout on the porch and they will get a quick smooch in

:; eyeless jack, brian, kagekao, nina, and jane are probably the most comfiest to cuddle with.

jack is tall and big which gives you plenty of room to cuddle him from all angles or get comfy underneath him.

brian likes to wrap his arms around you and bring your bodies chest to chest, he’s also really warm! it takes seconds to fall asleep!

kagekao is also similar to jack but always smells so good like lavender oils, which he probably does put on himself just because he also thought it smelled good. he’ll also share some wine with you while you wind down for the night

nina is a chaotic cuddler and definitely the little spoon. she will fight over this, but it’s cute! she’s all over you, underneath or on top. though she does drool once she passes out

jane has a warm, tight embrace. she will wrap her arms around you while scratching your head/back for comfort. she also smells amazing and her chest is a great place to lay your head, sooo comfy

:; jane and nina love to do makeup! they will glam you up in heartbeat if you ask them to. if your makeup starts to get a little runny or is a bit messy they will fix it for you, too! (they’re good about making it not discreet so you’re not embarrassed). their hands always smell fruity when they get close to your face with a makeup brush, you’ll be thinking about the smell all day

:; toby, dark link, ben, and nina are huge hand holders. they are always reaching for their s/o’s hand

toby has a tight grip, he’s the one who will grab your hand every single time you’re with him. almost without a thought, he’s wrapped around his s/o!

dark link is a gentle hand holder, he likes to be smooth with it and usually runs his fingers over your shoulders and down your arms before locking his fingers in yours. he’s very proud of his s/o!

ben is a lazy hand holder, he has a really loose grip but don’t pull away from him! he gets so offended but it makes him realize he needs to hold a bit tighter

nina is a bit like toby, she’s all over her s/o (or really anyone in general). she loves to hold hands and will comment on good manicure techniques that will get your hands/nails in shape

:; eyeless jack is a nest maker, if you’re his s/o he will definitely make you the most comfiest spot to lay in, even though his s/o’s are allowed to snuggle in his bed (which is a bundle of covers and pillows he’s arranged like a nest)

:; brian, tim and jeff love to tease other creeps, but especially their s/o. height difference is something they pick at. cant reach the top cabinet? they’ll come up behind you and coo at how small you are, “poor thing can’t get a cup? guess you’ll be thirsty, haha.”

but! they can’t be mean for long. they’ll get you whatever you need and expect a kiss for the help.

:; all the creeps enjoy when their s/o sits on their lap!

eyeless jack and kage are pretty huge guys being demons and all, so they’re the most comfiest to sit on. there’s so much room to move around and honestly if you do move around a lot, they more than likely don’t even know. they give amazing head scratches, you’ll be asleep in seconds

brian, tim, jeff, and toby are a normal size for humans. they’re also very comfy themselves but are more likely to be the ones who fall asleep first! brian and tim especially love when they’re busy doing paper work and their s/o crawls into their lap, they may scold you for a bit saying they’re busy but they’re really not busy enough for your cuddles

ben and dark link are demons like jack and kage (i hc them to be lol) but they’re much smaller demons! definitely bigger than the average human but not as big as the other two. ben is cold to the touch so he’s nice to sit on when you’re hot but dark is the opposite! both place their hands on your hips or wrap their arms around you right when you sit on them

jane and nina are the squishiest seats, and the most great smelling… and more! the second you’re on their lap they’re ecstatic, reaching out to you or giving you a hug from behind. they’re ready to talk so it’s never boring!

:; brian, tim, jeff, kage, dark link and eyeless jack are rough kissers. they’re more likely to bite your lip and start a heated make out session

jane, nina, toby, and ben are soft kissers (of course this depends if you’re getting freaky) but they’re more likely to kiss you and ask how your day has been before anything else

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Bunch of random creeps! If you’d like a specific creep, please check out my profile & pick any character(s) from the list that i write for! Any request made will be out first thing! thanks so much for the requests/support so far! <3 i cant believe some of my headcanons have already gotten over 100+ hearts (or close to) ahhh :) everyone seems to like ben a bit 👀 - 🍫🍄

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 49

part 1 | part 48 | ao3

cw: angst, canon-typical violence

It's a totally normal Tuesday the day it all starts going to shit.

Eddie's got a show at The Hideout, and Wayne's got a rare night off, so Steve's at his boyfriend's place without him catching a basketball game with Wayne and Ernie. He did try to go to the show, to be fair; wanted to, but Eddie took one look at the way he was cradling the side of his head and winked at him to "sit this one out, big boy," so here he is: drinking beer with two old men and watching the most frustrating game he's seen all season.

"Oh, what the hell was that?" he begs the tiny screen, jumping out of his seat to pace a tight circle and rake his hands over his scalp hard enough to pluck a few strands. Beside him, Ernie shakes his head and mutters "goddamn disgraceful, that's what" and in the kitchen Wayne munches happily on a fresh plate of nachos, taps his bald head with a half-eaten chip and warns, "Quit tuggin' at your hair 'fore you wind up lookin' like this."

"Whatever, old man." Steve rolls his eyes, but he loosens his grip. Drags his hands down his face instead. "Don't act like you're not loving this."

Wayne laughs, a broad, smug smile that's pure Munson mischief. "Never claimed otherwise," he says, then he pops a cigarette in his mouth and tells them to get their wallets ready.

Bastard. His team's doing fine tonight. (And sure, the bet was only five dollars, but it's a point of pride, damn it.)

Steve turns his attention back to the game, where the ref is making yet another call that's so laughably bad Steve's not sure how he isn't getting decked for it. A stray elbow to the face, at least. Fucking something.

"Jesus Christ," he mumbles; still pacing, arms crossed. "If they don't fire this idiot, I swear..."

He turns to Ernie for back up; remembers that Ernie's got a lapful of Misty the cat right now and quickly looks away. Creepy little thing still freaks Steve out (even if Ernie's stroking her fur like she's a harmless stress toy and not the razor-clawed, rat-chomping demon she really is.) He still can't look at her. Gets queasy just thinking about all the "presents" she's left him since he moved in.

Ernie catches the way his shoulders tense. "Didn't think you'd be afraid of a little pussy," he teases, scratching the cat behind her ears.

Misty gives a low rumble of approval.

Steve's stomach flips. "Whatever," he scoffs, looking anywhere but at them. "That thing's bad luck. No wonder we're losing."

He settles back into his seat, and the game goes on — and on, and on, until the score gets so embarrassing that Steve considers just getting up and yanking the TV plug out of the wall, or maybe storming out of the place in protest — and he's about to beg Wayne for mercy, ask him to change the station to anything else, when the front door opens so softly it sets off alarm bells in his head.

Steve whips around at the lack of sound. Knows immediately that something is wrong, because Eddie Munson doesn't do quiet. Eddie Munson comes home like fireworks going off: Crack! Whizz! Bang! He's always a burst of noise and energy; he's a fucking racket; Wayne's said so a million times — muttered it angrily when Eddie's music keeps him up, grumbled it fondly over breakfast while he tries to stop himself from falling asleep face-first in a plate of eggs.

Tonight Eddie comes home quiet as a thief. A mouse trying to evade the clutch of Misty's claws. His head's hung low as he shucks off his boots, his face obscured by frizzy hair.

Steve's across the room in a heartbeat.

"Baby?" he whispers, trying to peak behind the curtain. Eddie won't look at him, but his breathing sounds off; labored and whistling, and his hair is matted with something dark. "You okay?"

"Fine," Eddie croaks.

They both know it's a lie.

Steve lifts a hand to gently tip his chin up, but the moment his fingers graze skin Eddie winces and tugs away. "Okay," he says, pulling his hand back. "Okay, I'm sorry, just— can you look at me? Please?" He softens his voice, tries to coax Eddie out. You're safe here; you can trust me.

When Eddie finally looks up, Steve's heart lodges in his throat.

His face is ruined. Caked in dried blood, the skin below his left eye like an overripe eggplant: deep purple and threatening to split down the middle, to spill rotten juices all over the floor. There's a cut above his brow, another nick between his eyes, and— fuck.

His nose is broken.

Steve's gonna kill someone.

"Who did this to you?" he asks, deadly quiet. Whoever it is, they're not living to the morning. Steve's got a car and a nail bat and a boy with a broken nose, and he's going to kill whoever did this to him. "Eddie." He grips his biceps; shakes him a little. Insists. "Eddie, tell me who did this!"

Eddie hiccups a weak sob. Lips shiny with blood and tears, and Steve lets go; feels horrible for making it worse, for letting his anger get the best of him. He wraps Eddie up a gentle hug, cradles him against his chest and doesn't care if Ernie sees. He doesn't give a damn.

"Fucking—" Eddie grunts against Steve's shirt, his teeth chattering around the word. His throat clicks when he swallows. Sticky with blood and phlegm.

Hospital, Steve thinks. Blood loss; sepsis; shock.

Eddie gulps a ragged breath and tries again. "Fucking assholes," he gets out, "they took our- t-took our—" The words cut off with a pained whimper, and he breaks down and just cries. Cries and cries until the heaving subsides, until it lessens to muted trembling in Steve's arms. There's fresh blood on his shirt.

Eddie's blood is on his shirt.

He looks up, eyes wet and wide, and then Wayne's there; two strong, weathered hands firm on Eddie's shaking shoulders. "Is it bad?" he asks Steve. No nonsense; demanding answers. Decorated veteran.

Steve nods without a word.

"C'mon, kid," Wayne soothes. "Let's get you cleaned up."

—

part 50

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[unknowntoyou2205]

Believe me (pt 1/3)

Warnings: Kidnapping and Rape implied *no details*

Y/n Casey was raised by her aunt since she was born. Matt never knew his little sister existed till she was saved by Kelly in a house fire. Matt and his aunt had rarely seen each other, which meant that y/n had never met Casey, yet when Kelly seen the 5 year old girl, he instantly thought she looked a lot like the lieutenant. Y/n had clung to squads Captain after he had brought her to safety, and refused to leave Severide while Brett and Dawson tried to look her over. When it was time to take y/ to med for evaluation, Kelly winded up travelling with them at the back of the ambulance, with the young girl falling asleep on his chest on the way. The captain grew soft for the girl sleeping in his arms, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to leave this call behind. His thoughts were proven as his heart pulled at y/n’s screams as he went to leave her. She only let him leave when he gave her his beanie, with the promise of coming back after shift.

Thankfully young y/n had winded up with only small amounts of smoke inhalation, and was left in the hospital overnight before being discharged. Unfortunately, her aunt wasn’t so lucky, and she winded up dying three days later in the hospital. With no one else in the young girls life, y/n, had to be left to the system ,where she would either be adopted or fostered. Kelly had held her when he was told the news, and as he held her as she cried, something in him didn’t want her to be taken to the system, so he asked April to do some blood tests to see if there were any matches on the systems. Convincing the nurse was easy due to her having a soft place for kids, and after a quick run to the lab, they found out that the 5 year old was a match to Matt.

Matt was shocked when he was told he had a little sister, and went to confront his mother who admitted to having another baby after she murdered her husband. She had found out after being sentenced to prison and knew that prison was no place to raise a baby. Matt was hurt that his mother never told him or his sister, so decided to visit the young girl to know her. With him being a practical stranger to the young girl, he brought Kelly with him, who had been visiting the young girl on his own time.

"Kelly." The young girl shouted in delight, running over to the firefighter. "Hey, kid, how are you?" Kelly smiled, squatting down to allow y/n to run into his arms before picking her up, her legs wrapping around her waist as she perched on his front. She giggled before seeing the stranger who was standing beside him, shying into Kelly's shoulder slightly. "Y/n, this is Matt, he works with me." Kelly introduced Matt to the young girl and Matt smiled softly at the girl, "Matt, this is y/n." "Hi there." Matt smiled, waving slightly at the girl. "Y/n, Matt needs to talk to you about something important okay?" Kelly stated, looking down at the girl who kept her head on his shoulder. Y/n nodded and moved as Kelly sat down on her temporary bed before sitting on his lap, and Matt crouched in front of them. "Y/n I know you don't know me but I am your brother. My aunt, the woman who you believed is your mommy, took you in after you were born. I didn't know about you until now. And if it's okay, I would like to take you in and care for you." Matt tried to not overwhelm the 5 year old as she looked at him with confusion. "I have a brother?" Y/n asked innocently, looking at Matt before moving her head up to look at Kelly. "Yeah, and Matt wants you to go home with him. Are you okay with that?" Kelly spoke, nodding his head. "Will I see you again?" She whimpered, tears building in her eyes. "Sure will Kid. Can't get rid of me that easily." Kelly joked, poking her side so she would giggle. "You can see him whenever you like. And you can meet the rest of firehouse if you like." Matt explained, wanting the girl to be comfortable around him.

And with that, y/n moved in with her brother. It was rocky at first, with y/n being so shy around him and avoiding him whenever Kelly was around. Kelly had signed on as her second guardian, but slowly she warmed up to her brother and Casey quickly grew into the parenting roll. With the help of firehouse 51, the lieutenant managed to raise the young girl into the young woman she was today, though Casey and y/n’s relationship neve grew quite as close as Kelly and her, but Casey wasn’t okay with that as he knew Kelly would always watch out for the girl.

--

Kelly leaned against squads truck, watching for a certain 17 year old to come walking in with her brother. It was a weekend, and with Casey’s 24hr shift, the girl often came to hang out with the firehouse squad so she wasn’t alone all day. It wasn’t uncommon for y/n to wind up falling asleep in Kelly or Caseys office, but ultimately Casey allowed her the freedom to stay at their apartment on her own at night, provided she texted him when she arrived home. Generally the morning before their shift y/n would text Kelly, but having not heard from the Casey girl, Kelly was anxious to see her. Yet his attention was drawn to the truck that pulled up across from the road, only one head in view.

“Where’s y/n Casey?” Kelly called out to the Lieutenant as he walked across the road. “She’s not been home. Stayed with friends last night.” Casey stated, holding the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “You not collect her on the way? I haven’t heard from her all morning.” Kelly asked, crossing his arms over his chest as Casey stopped in front of him. “Geez Kelly, relax. She’ll be here soon. You worry too much.” Casey chuckled lightly as he hit Kelly’s shoulder in a joking way. "Well it isn’t like her to not text.” Kelly defended himself. “I appreciate your concern for her, but trust me, she’s fine. Time gets away from her when she’s with friends.” Casey smiled, placing a hand on Kelly’s shoulder before looking up as the bell went off before the two rushed off.

-----

The call had winded up with a bad outcome. An abandoned house where teens had parties had winded up catching on fire, and there had been multiple casualties, three had been found charred, with 8 winding up in hospital with serious injuries. Intelligence were treating this as a party gone wrong, with evidence of multiple flammable options being found after examining the scene. Each firefighter hung their heads as they arrived back to 51, and Boden called a meeting to check up on everyone.

Kelly and Casey opted to head outside to smoke a cigar after the case. It was midday when they were sitting on top of firehouse 51, and Kelly looked down the street to see a figure slowly walking towards them, arms folded as they hunched over themselves. Y/n was yet to turn up, so Kelly stood up, hoping to see y/n’s face. He hit Caseys chest when she recognized the girl, before moving to get down from the roof, meeting y/n halfway.

“Y/n where the hell were you?” Casey snapped before Kelly had a chance to open his mouth. “With friends.” Y/n muttered, avoiding the two men’s vision. “That was last night. You told me you’d be here by the time shift starts. Yet you rock up after lunch, what’s up with that?” Casey spoke harshly, and Kelly glared at him. Casey please.” The young girl pleaded, moving around them to head into the house. “No y/n, where were you?” Casey pushed, grabbing y/n’s arm harshly. “Hey, Casey, stop.” Kelly interfered when he seen y/n flinch away from her brother. “Get off me.” Y/n pleaded, pulling her arm away from her brother. “No, y/n, tell me where you were.” “I wasn’t at friends last night.” Y/n muttered, causing Kelly and Casey to look at her. “I’m sorry?” Casey questioned with a raised eyebrow. Y/n looked at Kelly slightly, and his eyes softened as he seen her broken sight. “Kelly, leave us be while I talk to my sister.” Casey stated to his fellow firefighter who took a glance between the siblings before leaning to Casey. “Go easy, listen to her before snapping.” Kelly warned Casey before moving to y/n, wrapping an arm over her shoulders and kissing her head before leaving the siblings be. “Kelly.” Y/n whispered. “My office y/n.” Casey spoke harshly, stepping out of the way for y/n to go first.

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

“You gonna tell me where you were?” Casey asked his sister once he closed the door. “I dunno if I can.” Y/n muttered, causing Casey to sigh and rub his forehead. “Y/n I am tired okay. We’ve had a bad case and I am not in the mood for cat and mouse. SO just tell me where you are alright. It’s that easy.” Casey stated harshly, swinging his arm out, causing y/n to flinch. “no.” Y/n whimpered, flinching back at her brothers harsh movements. “Enough of the flinching. Where were you?” Casey snapped, rolling his eyes at his sisters antics. “Stop.” Y/n begged, tears welling up in her eyes. “I was kidnapped.” Y/n muttered, yet Casey heard it. “Don’t lie to me.” Casey snapped. “I’m not.” Y/n cried. “The truth y/n.” “I was kidnapped, I was raped Why won’t you believe me?” Y/n cried out, covering her face with her hands. “Cause if you were kidnapped, you wouldn’t be here.” Casey explained, moving closer to his sister. “Matt please..” Y/n begged, crying harder. “Get out of my sight. Come back when you choose to tell the truth instead of some sick lies.” Casey spoke, opening the door to his office. “I’m telling the truth.” “Do you have any idea how many people go through what your insinuating y/n. I can’t believe you would make that up.” Casey spoke abruptly, causing y/n to look down in tears. Casey please.” Y/n begged, wanting her brother. “Now y/n.” Casey finished, pointing out the door for y/n to leave.

Y/n hung her head as she walked out of the office, ignoring the looks of Cruz and Hermann as they walked by Casey’s office.

[hyacintheros]

Child of the Stars

|| (Regulus Black x Fem!Reader)

Main Masterlist

Word Count: 0.7k

P.S: A little blurb I was thinkin of c:

She brushes her nails on his scalp, massaging and scrubbing the soap in. Rinsing out the bubbles, she gives the nape of his neck a nice pull, loosening any tense muscles. His wife wrings out the water from his hair, applies conditioner, and leaves it in for a few minutes.

“Ow! What was that for!?” Regulus holds his cheek, trying to soothe the pinch. She looks at him, ready to beat him with the conditioner still in his hair. “D'you know what Sirius said? He told me he saw you getting ice cream with Draco! You guys went without me..” his wife pouts.

“Really? That's what you're upset over? You were at Lily's place! What was I supposed to do, not get him ice cream??” Regulus pouts back, thankful his wife isn't actually angry. Merlin knows what she'll do to his hair when angry, shuddering at the thought, praying for his precious hair currently in her hands.

She rinses out the conditioner, giving his scalp one final scrub before wrapping it up in a cute pink towel, one she bought to tease him about. “Would it make you feel better if we went out for ice cream?” He kisses her forehead in a means to make amends. She smiles at him, happy and bubbly for ice cream.

“D'you want help drying your hair?” The girl mumbles as she cleans up the huge bowl of water and products, doing this once a week for Regulus. They find that washing his hair is a nice bonding activity to wind down from the week, just basking in each other's presence.

“Could you help, please? My curls look nicer when you do them..” They move to the bedroom, she sits on the edge of the bed while he sits on the ground below her, head facing the other way. “Pass me the creme, darling,” he grabs the dark purple container, opening it for her and holding it up so she can dip her fingers into the product.

Regulus’ head falls gently onto her lap, breathing having evened out, too blissed out to stop himself from falling asleep. His wife chuckles softly, scrunching his hair gently and palming at his nape to help him feel better. She lets him sleep, putting a towel on her thighs to protect his hair.

—♡—

“I'm going to kick your shin if you don't get up from my lap.” Regulus chooses to ignore this threat, instead turning his head around to nuzzle it into her stomach, mumbling incoherent words. “Reggie! My feet are asleep, please!” He relents, just a little bit, standing up by and stretching his back.

“Old man,” his wife mumbles, also getting up to stretch. “You promised me ice cream, you know.” He pulls her in for a sleepy, discombobulated hug, shushing her. “Same place..?” He whispers into her hair, still physically in a different realm. She nods, giving a little kiss to his cheek where she pinched an hour before.

They both grab a coat, not in the mood to change as their coats cover them all the way to their ankles. “It's cold out and you still want ice cream? Truly a well oiled machine, you are” he snickers at her, apperating them to the ice cream shop in Diagon Alley.

Walking in, the smell of handmade waffle cones and sweet cream fill the air, temperature even colder inside. “Oh look, they've got a new flavour!” She points out to the glass divider, a swirly black ice cream with gold shimmers in it. The couple have been coming to the same ice cream shop for a decade, having tasted every flavour, new and old. 

Regulus knows that look on his wife's face, having seen it a million times. Turning to the scooper, he says, “Could we get one Black Cherry Cheesecake scoop on a waffle.. and the new flavour- Child of the Stars? in a cup please.” He didn't see the name of the ice cream before, a bit ironic, he thinks.

Serving their ice creams, the boy behind the glass screen rings them up, “11 sickles please,” and Regulus pulls out his membership card, scanning it then paying for his tab. Grabbing the ice creams, they approach their signature table, one the couple have sat at almost every time they come.

Staring at his wife, he can't help but laugh at her expression, clearly confused by the flavour of her ice cream, not being able to place the actual taste. It's days like today that Regulus feels it was worth it, pushing through the hardest of what life had to offer, just to end up back in her arms.

[prettypinkporkchop]

My my those eyes like fire

You put the meat inside the zip lock bag and put it in your purse. You are ready to go back out into the woods and see your wolf friend.

One day, you were in the woods upset about something when this gray wolf befriended you. At first, you were scared of the gigantic creature. But, you realized he's so kind to you. Every day, you go out there, hang out with him, and feed him.

He has become your only friend since you've lost your best friend in an accident. You two moved together to start over when tragedy struck. Now you're alone and grieving.

You get deep enough in the trees to where you know he will be. You place down your bag and cross your legs, waiting.

It doesn't take long when you hear a happy whimper and running. You turn, and the wolf is right in front of you, licking your face. You play your hands in the beautiful fur and laugh.

"Okay, okay!"

He sits down next to you, leaning into your arm. You softly pet his head and reach into your bag. His ears perk up, and he looks to see a big thing of meat.

You place it in front of him, and he starts eating it.

"So crazy my only friend is a beautiful wolf." You sigh and then scratch its back. "But I don't mind. I know you won't hurt me." You smile.

The wolf finishes eating and lays its head in your lap. You play with its ears and run your fingers through his neck. He seems to love it as he's trying to keep his eyes open.

"Maybe I should name you?" You giggle.

The wolf opens its eyes, stands in front of you, and keeps his dark brown eyes on yours. Every time you look into this big boys eyes, you feel a connection. You don't have room at home for a whole ass wolf! And Forks probably has a law for that, lol.

"How long can we sit out here today, huh?" You ask as if it would answer. But you always leave when he does.

The wolf places its pay on your knee. You put your hand over the paw. Then, a howl is heard. Followed by another one. The wolf backs away, running a bit forward, howling back, and then runs away.

You stand up, dust off your pants, and go back home.

------

You just got off work, and now you're back in the woods. Hopefully, the wolf will come see you at this time. It's only during the day that you two visit. But right now, you don't want to be home. You're scared of the dark and being alone in the woods, but at this very moment, you just want to not hurt anymore.

You plop down on the ground and start crying. You hope he comes to you.

You end up falling asleep.

"Wake up." A deep voice in your head says.

You jolt awake and notice the gray wolf is lying next to you. When you woke up, it woke him up. He lifts his head and whimpers.

"I'm okay." You sniffle and cuddle into him. But once you do that, he gets up and looks at you.

"What?" You ask.

He stomps his feet and huffs.

"Oh, you're right. I should be in bed, huh?" You giggle and stand up. You start to walk out of the forest but see he is behind you.

"AWE, my guardian." You keep walking, and he doesn't leave your side.

You get home, and he runs off.

"Bye, friend." You mutter.

-----

Another day in the woods, it's a different time like yesterday. You're feeling awfully cold. You feel like you aren't alone, but maybe you're just tripping. It's okay, wait for the wolf.

A hand grips around your neck from behind. It was the coldest hand you've ever felt. It lifts you up and you meet piercing red eyes.

"Who are you?" She smirks at you.

Her grip is too tight for you to speak. Her long and curly red hair is blowing in the wind.

She breathes in, closing her eyes. She opens them and smirks at you.

"Wow, you smell so good."

Your eyes start getting blurry due to your breathing being constricted.you see tiny black dots.

"Victoria, put her down, now." You hear in the distance.

You're dropped to the ground, coughing. You look up and see three different wolves chasing her down.

You sit, trying to compose yourself when the familiar wolf sits next to you. His paw reaches up and softly lands on your back. You lean into him on instinct and cry. The wolf huffs, leaving behind the trees. You hear rustling, and you stare up at the high rocks and trees. Soon, a young man that you find to be the most attractive person ever steps out and looks down at you. (THE GIF ABOVE IS WHAT YOU SEE PLZ SAVE ME).

Before you can say anything, a few howls are heard. He looks back down and then runs off.

-----

You sit on your porch, drinking some wine, thinking about everything that just happened. If only you could call your best friend to tell her.

Your glass is empty, and grab the wine bottle next to you. You move the little bit left at the bottom. "No wonder I'm so tipsy." You sigh.

"You know it's never good to drink that much." You jump and look up to see the guy in the woods. He walks closer to your porch, putting one foot on the step and looking down at you.

You scoff and look down. "Did you see what happened back there?"

"I did. Are you okay?" He sits.

"I guess. I'm just so confused. So over it." You sigh.

"We killed her. She uh.. that was a vampire. Her name is Victoria."

You laugh in distress and nod your head, "Yeah let's keep adding on to crazy. Wolves and vampires?" You down the last bit of the bottle.

"I'm Embry. I'm the wolf. Every day I had to see you." He looks into your eyes.

You realize he wasn't lying because of his eyes. It's the wolf. You feel how he makes you feel.

"That's embarrassing. You know everything about me."

"No, it's not embarrassing." He moves up the steps, sitting on the porch beside you.

You sigh and lay your head on his shoulder. "I'm so tired." You sniffle.

He reaches over, holding your cheek. "Y/n, is it a good time to tell you something life changing?"

"As if my life hasn't already changed. Go ahead." You wrap your arms, pulling on his neck so your head moves closer toward his neck.

His scent is relaxing you. You feel genuine love for Embry. You don't want him to go. You're so happy that he's not just a wolf.

"I imprinted on you."

------

A FEW DAYS LATER:

Embry wraps you tighter in your blanket, holding onto you as if you could disappear. You love falling asleep with him. You love him. He loves you.

His warmth fills you up and you lift your head up looking into his eyes.

It feels like fire staring back at you. You lift your hand, touching his chin.

"Are you about to kiss me?" He asks, looking over your face and bringing his gaze down to your lips.

You slowly nod your head and lean in. He leans in, too. Next thing you two know, the gap is gone. His lips fit in yours. You push further and add your tongue. He plays with his tongue as you two mix saliva.

You throw your blanket off of you, half of it hanging off your bed. You quickly straddle his waist and hold his face.

He breathes heavily, and your heart speeds up. You want all of Embry. You want to be one.

You notice he's scared to touch you as if you're going to break like glass. You grab his hands and lower them to your bottom. He softly squeezes before flipping you over, making him on top. He smiles down at you, chuckling.

"I love you. Like... a lot. Is that weird?" He asks raising an eyebrow.

"No, because I love you."

-----

You stand next to Bella and Edward. Your mind racing as Edward enters the wolves minds.

"Embry's doing good. He's very good." He says.

Riley slowly walks up, making you and Bella jump back.

"Seth! Take her!" Edward yells.

Seth steps to you, and you jump on his back. He doesn't waste a second to start running at full speed, taking you away as Embry requested.

Seth and you sit in the woods. He shifted back to boy Seth. You two sit next to each other, picking grass.

"Sucks, I can't be in the action. But I'm glad you're safe." He nudges you.

"Yeah, it's weird that I was a target, too. It's not like I have anything to do with Bella and Edweird." You giggle.

"It's because she saw you and then wanted to attract us. Wipe us out with the Cullens. Like, okay, I do not care about your drama. Sorry, your boyfriend died?" Seth, and you burst into laughter.

-----

You grab Embry's shirt, pulling him down for a kiss. Your room is cold, but now you feel Embry's temperature.

His hands grab onto your arms, keeping you in place and kissing you back.

He won. You won.

[toasttt11]

never grow up

Your little hand's wrapped around my finger

A five year old Quinn walked into the hospital room while his little brothers were waiting outside with their grandmother. He saw him mom in the hospital bed looking tired but extremely happy and smiled bigger when her oldest came in, and his father was holding a pink bundle smiling down at it.

Quinn walked over to his mom leaning up and kissing her cheek, “Hi mama.”

“Hi Quinny you want to meet your little sister?” Ellen smiled brushing a hand over his hair, smiling at his enthusiastic nod, knowing her sweet boy have been very excited to meet his sister.

Jim walked over as Quinn sat in the chair, Jim leaned down gently setting his daughter into Quinn’s arm.

Quinn softly gasped seeing his baby sister look so cute he slowly brushed a finger over her soft cheeks, before her little hand went to her face and her tiny fingers wrapped around Quinn’s finger.

Quinn smiled widely at his baby sister, “I’ll always protect i promise.” Quinn smiled at her holding his finger and knew he was already wrapped around her finger.

And it's so quiet in the world tonight

A three year old Carter slowly sliding of her bed, quietly opening her bedroom door and tiptoeing down the hallway to Jack’s door, she gently opened the door sliding into his room.

The whole house silent as her family is all sleeping, but she wanted to be with her brother.

Carter gently lifted up the corner of Jack’s comforter and pulled herself up into his bed and sliding right into his side.

Jack woke up slowly feeling something move next to him, and he looked over and saw through the strips of moonlight coming through, a tiny body with brown curls and he smiled wrapping an arm around his sister.

Jacks hands curling around her curls as he felt his little sister relax againt him and fall back asleep , he pulled the blanket up more around her before falling back asleep.

Your little eyelids flutter 'cause you're dreamin'

A six year old Luke was watching a hockey game with his five year old sister sleeping with her head on his lap, as their mom was in her office and their dad and brothers were at a game.

Carter slowly moved around making Luke look down seeing her still sleeping but moving around and her eyes fluttering, her nose scrunched.

Luke gently put his hand into her curls gently rubbing her head making Carter slowly relaxed and fall back to a more peaceful sleep.

So I tuck you in, turn on your favorite night light

Carter whimpered seeing the shapes move around on her dark walls, the wind howling outside and she whimpered again before throwing her blanket off running out of her bed into the room next to hers, Quinn. She quickly pulled the door handle running into her room.

A eight year old Quinn looked up from his book that he was reading in bed, before he had to got to sleep, and he saw his almost three year old sister biting her lip and shaking as she busted into the room.

Quinn quickly jumped out of bed rushing to his little sister, he kneeled down in front of her pulling her into a hug rubbing her back.

“What’s wrong Reesie?” Quinn frowned feeling how much his sister is shaking, he kissed the top of her head.

“Dark.” Carter whimper out hiding her face in Quinn’s chest.

Quinn slowly nodded understanding what’s wrong, He picked her up still holding her in a hug and setting her on his hip, he walked over to his desk digging in the top drawer looking for something, before he found what he was looking for.

He walked them out of his room back into her room, he clicked on the main light before waking to the outlet and plugging in the nightlight he grabbed. He turned it own making stars shine across the whole ceiling.

“Hey Reesie, look!” Quinn cooed making Carters head slowly move from where she was hiding in his chest and smiled at the stars, blue and purple stars filled her ceiling.

“Woah!” Carter gasped seeing how pretty they all are.

Quinn slowly walked back with Carter still sitting on his hip but focused on the stars and clicked off the main light and breathed out a sigh of relief seeing Carter not notice.

He slowly walked them to her bed and set her down onto the bed, he kneeled down on the floor by her bed covering her up with her blankets seeing her tired eyes watching him, “That use to be my stars, i use to have to sleep with them too.”

“You did?” Carter gasped not thinking her big brother would be afraid of anything.

“Mhm, but i learned that the stars protect you when you’re scared. If you’re ever scared just look at the stars.” Quinn leaned down kissing her on the forehead slowly humming until she feel back to sleep.

To you, everything's funny

Carter who was six was making a grunt looking down at her dinner plates seeing the peas, she hates peas.

Jack who was nine was sitting across the table from her and as she put the food in mouth he gently tapped her leg making her look up at Jack who scrunched his nose and made a pea come out from both sides of his nose, Carter laughed forgetting the food in her mouth making it fly across the table and hit Luke who was sitting next to Jack.


The table paused before Carter was laughing so hard she was leaning out of her chair and not quick after Jack was wheezing trying to catch his breath as he laughed so hard and Quinn tried so hard not to look at the mashed potatoes that splatted all over Luke’s face but the when he saw them he couldn’t help but bust out laughing just as hard as his siblings.

Luke was trying to be annoyed but when he saw his face in the reflection in the mirror in the dinning room he couldn’t help but break out laughing as well.

You got nothing to regret

Carter who had just turned six was playing outside hockey a 1v1 with her seven years old brother, Luke was behind her trying to get the puck she had in her hands when suddenly she went to move and her stick went up and it flung right into Luke’s nose, Carter quickly dropped the stick turning seeing Luke holding his nose in pain and his eyes teary.

Carter eyes widened with worry, “MOM! MOM!” Carter screamed towards the house having her hands on Luke’s arms as his nose started to bleed heavily.

Ellen rushed our hearing Carter scream, Quinn was quick to follow behind her, they saw Carter holding Luke and Luke holding him face.

Ellen quickly ran to Luke making Carter’s hands drop from Luke’s arms, “What happened!” Ellen gently demanded as she gently lifted Luke’s hands wincing seeing all the blood but his nose was still very much straight and looked like it was just a very bad bloody nose.

“I accidentally hit with the end of my stick when we were playing.” Carter tearfully and hurriedly explained.

“Quinn go get toilet paper.” Ellen asked her eldest who nodded now realizing that it must just be bloody nose.

“Is he going to be okay?” Carter softly asked holding Luke’s hand tightly.

“He’ll be okay, it’s just a bloody nose.” Ellen soothed her daughter worries as Quinn walked out with a toilet paper roll handing it to his mother.

“I’m sorry.” Carter regrettably whispered to Luke as they walked back into the house and Ellen was holding toilet paper on Luke’s nose to stop the bleeding.

“It’s okay Reeses pieces.” Luke whispered back, it didn’t even hurt that bad but it was uncomfortable with all the blood but he knew his sister didn’t do it on purpose.

I'd give all I have honey

If you could stay like that

A recently just turned six Quinn snuck out of his bed in the middle of the night. He tiptoed out of his room and down the hallway towards Carter’s room he quietly opened her door and walked to her crib seeing her eyes fluttering open and shut, he leaned into the crib gently picking her.

Quinn picked up the blanket hanging over the back of the rocking chair before sitting in the chair with Carter in his arms, he covered himself and Carter with the blanket.

Carter cooed making Quinn attention immediately go to her, Quinn saw his baby sister staring up at him and he gave her his finger and she wrapped her little fingers around it.

Quinn slowly rocked the both of them back to sleep and he hep Carter all night long until Ellen came into Carters room the next morning and found her oldest and youngest fast asleep in the rocking chair.

Oh, darlin', don't you ever grow up

Don't you ever grow up

Just stay this little

“Mom!” Carter groaned frustrated sitting on her bedroom in frustration, it was the first day of first grade tomorrow and she couldn’t figure out an outfit.

“Reesie?” Ellen responded out in concern walking down the hallway to Carter’s bedroom seeing Carter sitting on the floor looking frustrated, Ellen walked over kneeling down in front of her and gently rubbed Carter’s back, “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find an outfit.” Carter huffed out.

“Would you like some help?” Ellen softly questioned still enjoying the days where her children need her help, especially since her youngest seems to want to do everything on her and is always very independent.

Carter titled her head before slowly nodding, Ellen smiled and looked at the clothes all around them and saw a grey and black plaid skirt and then looked and saw a black long sleeve with ruffles, she help them up to Carter, “What about this? With your black headband?” Ellen smiled at her.

Carter nodded happily a smile now forming on her face as she hugged her mother, “Thank you.”

“Anytime Ressie, Anytime.” Ellen closed her eyes savoring the hug.

Oh, darlin', don't you ever grow up

Don't you ever grow up

It could stay this simple

An eleven year old Carter rubbed her eyes as she quietly walked into the kitchen in the middle of the night wanting cold water, she blinked seeing her dad sitting at the dinning room table, “Dad?”

Carter soft voice got Jim’s attention who turned around seeing his daughter standing there, “Hey bug.” Jim softly smiled at her patting the seat next to him.

“Are those the cookies mom made? Carter cocked an eyebrow at her father as she sat next to him seeing him have cookies and milk in front of him.

“I won’t tell, if you want.” Jim mischievously smiled holding a cookie out to his daughter.

Carter looked at the cookie knowing they are really good because her mom made them before grabbing the cookie and taking a bite out of it, “Deal.”

Carter happily grinned as she munched on the cookies with her dad.

I won't let nobody hurt you

Quinn turned around just seeing as his sister was smashed into the boards after the whistle was already blown, and before anyone even knew it, Quinn had his gloves dropped and he was on top of the Calgary Flames player tackling him to the ice and not stopping hitting him until Quinn was dragged off him.

Quinn knew his mouth was running but he didn’t care he shrugged off the referee and took his penalty seeing his sister not on the bench, the second the period ended Quinn had jumped out of the box skating across the ice hurrying down the tunnel to the medical room, he bursted in seeing the doctors holding a light to Carter’s head checking for concussion.

“Is she alright?” Quinn hurriedly questioned, gently grabbing her hand.

“She’s okay, i would like her not to play the rest of the game as they was a very bad hit to the head, she doesn’t have a concussion but for safety i suggest she doesn’t.” The doctor kindly instructed Quinn before leaving the room.

Quinn pulled her into a hug pressing a soft kiss to her head.

Won't let no one break your heart

And no one will desert you

Quinn frowned as Carter denied the FaceTime something she never does and then she texted “sorry can’t talk now” Quinn frowned deeper having feeling like Carter has been off lately.

He quickly got up and packed a bag and getting into his car, he had three days off from work and decided to drive the five hours to his little sister.

Quinn drove the five hours to Regina and walked up into her apartment building, he took the elevator to her floor. He knocked on her door waiting for her to open the door.

A fifteen year old Carter looked up from her couch and got up walking to the door, she opened it and was shocked to she her brother, “Quinny?” Carter softly questioned feeling her eyes fill with tears.

“Ressie.” Quinn softly smiled at his baby sister, she lunged forward pulling him into a hug.

Carter let out a shaky breath as she felt comfort from her big brother, she didn’t realize how alone she would feel in a new city all alone.

Just try to never grow up

Never grow up

Carter got off the plane from Sweden after staying there for almost a year only really doing school and playing hockey, she turned 16 there, she did end up growing a good few inches while she was away and she knew she put on a lot of good muscle, and a lot of her baby fat on her face went away. Carter saw Quinn waiting for her and she quickly walked over to him a smile, “Hey big brother.”

“Can you stop growing please.” Quinn questioned wirh a wide smile pulling her sister in a long overdo hug, her now only being three inches shorter than him.

Quinn drove her to their parents houses were the rest of their family was waiting for them.

Carter laughed as she was covered in confetti from Jack and Luke as she walked into the house and she saw the welcome home banner.

“This is not fair.” Jack pouted seeing how tall his sister got and how his younger siblings are way too tall.

Luke pulled Carter into a tight hug swaying back and forth. Jack pushed Luke off her and pulled Carter into a tight hug, “No more growing ok.”

“Ok.” Carter fondly rolled her eyes at her brother.

Ellen pulled her youngest in a tight hug pressing kisses to her face having missed her so much, “Oh my love you got even more beautiful.” Ellen smiled softly holding her daughter’s face in her hands. Of course the family had facetime while Carter was away but it was hard to tell how much she grew up from a screen.

Jim rested his chin on his daughter’s head holding her a long hug.

Don't you ever grow up

It could stay this simple

Luke walked into the living room seeing his three siblings cuddled up together so he walked over to the couch towards them.

Luke layed down in between Jack and Carter resting his head on Jacks thigh and gently grabbing Carter’s hand gaining a squeeze in return. Quinn was cuddled against Carter.

The four siblings cuddled together on the couch for a long time just listening to the pouring rain and thunder outside until they all fell fast asleep, just like they always did when they were younger.

Jim and Ellen walked down to the basement that was usally always loud but was completely silent and they saw all their kids cuddled up together. Ellen and Jim smiled, Ellen took a picture of her kids as Jim grabbed the other blankets on the back of the couch covering Luke with one and Quinn with the other.

And no one's ever burned you

Nothing's ever left you scarred

Carter was on her roller skates in the front driveway of her house playing with her brothers, when she slipped and her knee slid roughly across the asphalt. Carter gasped seeing the blood starting to run down her leg and could feel the tears running down her face rapidly. Quinn saw her fall and quickly dropped his stick and skated to her, Carter who was only four.

“Sshh, Your okay Ressie.” Quinn softly cooed bending down in front of her and wrapping her in his arms, “Jack can you go get mom.” Quinn calmly demanded his brother not taking his eyes off his sister, Jack quickly nodded and skated towards the house.

Luke sat on the other side of Carter holding her hand looking at her in worry. Ellen came out with Jack seeing her daughter crying sitting in the floor and her boys comforting her, “Oh honey, what happened?” Ellen brushed her baby hairs that fell out of her ponytail.

“I slipped.” Carter soflty hiccuped being more frustrated at falling than being hurt, and crying because she was so overwhelmed.

“Ok, why don’t we go inside so we can clean your boo-boo up yeah?” Ellen softly talked to her daughter, Carter slowly nodded and looked up at her big brother with her big wide eyes that were filled with tears.

Quinn picked up his sister bridal style and carried her into the house. Jack made sure to pick up of Carter’s hockey stick off the driveway, and Luke kept a hold on Carter’s hand the whole time.

And even though you want to

Just try to never grow up

“Bye Quinny! Bye Jacky! Bye Lukey! Bye Mom and Dad!” A recently turned five year old Carter smiled widely waving at her family as she happily skipped into her first day of school.

“Does she have to grow up.” Quinn frowned unhappy his baby sister seems to never stop growing.

“Can’t she just stay little.” Jack pouted hating seeing her grow up.

Ellen and Jim shared fond looks having thought the same things many times with all their kids.

Take pictures in your mind of your childhood room

Carter who had just turned 14 looked around the room she grew up in, the dark green shiplap that her mom picked out years ago and Carter never got rid of it having always loved it , the wall full of her old hockey’s sticks, the bulletin board above her desk filled with photos of friends and family, her bay window that has way to many pillows and throw blankets, the star nightlight that Carter could never get rid of.

Carter looked around seeing a now empty room having packed everything up and loaded it onto the moving van to their new house in Michigan.

Memorize what it sounded like when your dad gets home

Carter was sitting at the dinner table working on her spelling for her kindergarten class but perked up hearing the sound of the car in the driveway and it turning off. Carter hurriedly dropped her pencil and scurried across the house to the front door.

She heard the key in the door unlocking it and the door opening it, Carter smiled running right into her dad’s legs.

“Dad! Your home!” Carter grinned up at her dad, Jim tiredly smiled down at his youngest kid, “Hello Bug.” He picked her setting her on his hip as he held her with one hand and the other grabbing his bag.

Carter wrapped her small arms around his neck, “I missed you.” Carter leaned her head on his shoulder.

“I missed you too Bug.” Jim kissed the top of her head.

Remember the footsteps, remember the words said

Carter pulled the cover over her head trying to block out all the noise in the morning and go back to sleep not wanting to be awake this early.

Carter groaned frustrated hearing all her brothers and their friends stomping around in the morning. She could hear all of their loud voices traveling through out the house and she knew she wasn’t getting anymore sleep this morning.

And all your brother's favorite songs

Carter groaned hearing Jack playing another country song on the speaker as they were all out on the boat and Jack grabbed the speaker first.

Jack and Trevor sung to the music dramatically jumping around the boat together.

Carter just shook her head feeling the headache forming but knew she misses these kinds of moments in the season so she put up with listening to him sing his favorite songs.

I just realized everything I have is someday gonna be gone

Carter was sitting in her new bedroom in their new Michigan house that they moved into a few months ago. She opened the email from the WHL and knew exactly what it would be, either the acceptance or rejection. Carter had applied for the WHL, when they were still living in Canada and now knew if she was accepted she would be moving away from her family.

Carter let out a breath as she realizes she got accepted into the Hockey League she’s been dreaming of and the first player to ever get accepted a year early something her brothers didn’t even get approved to do.

Carter proudly smiled to herself as she got accepted to one of her dreams, but frowned when she remembered that the only close team to Quinn only had one draft pick this year, and all the other teams are at least two hours away from Vancouver, Carter knew it was going to end up with her being all alone.

So here I am in my new apartment

In a big city, they just dropped me off

It's so much colder than I thought it would be

So I tuck myself in and turn my nightlight on

Carter looked around her new bedroom in her little apartment in Regina, Canada. She looked at how little things she really did bring with her from home, she frowned feeling the chilly breeze and seeing nothing but dark in her room. She looked through her suitcase and found the nightlight she brought, the one she has had for ten years.

She plugged in and slowly relaxed seeing the stars fill the ceilings, something she’s always slept with ever since Quinn gave it to her.

She put on a hoodie she stole from Jack and got under her comforter trying to warm as she slowly fell asleep all alone in her new apartment.

Wish I'd never grown up