#and that made me uncomfortable and so i left | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seitmai · 3 days ago

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“Of course,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to your thigh and lifting his head with a smile. The darkness had left his eyes. How long until it returned? “Thank you for calming me down.” “Of course,” you echoed because what else could you do?

Truly 🥲

His brows pinched a little as his hands gently framed your cheeks. “Kotyonok, why do you sound so upset?” He asked, his thumbs moving in a soothing motion as you took a deep breath. “Wait, are you scared that I’d be mad at you?” “I… I don’t know,” you said. You didn’t necessarily think he’d be upset with you, but after his mood swings at lunch and everything else so far you weren't sure what to expect. “I just don't know.”

He is so erratic, it's hard to tell anything at all 🥴

“I appreciate you telling me, but you have nothing to worry about. Just have a good rest of the day.” With a kiss to the corner of your mouth, he whispered, “I’ll be thinking of you until I see you again.”

I'm sure he is 🥲

She clapped her hands. “Oh, that’s wonderful! And don’t you dare be modest. Let him spoil you.” “I have a feeling he’ll spoil me even if I don't ask him to,” you said. Your whole experience with Bucky was whether you wanted it or not, so why would he stop now?

🥴😬🫣

He held your arm when you tried to get out. “You express yourself through Acts of Service with loving gestures and helping with tasks, but what you crave is Quality Time because you value meaningful interactions and connecting with people on a more personal level.” You nodded slowly. It was why you loved hanging out with your girlfriends. You cherished making memories with them.

Which is very natural and reasonable, if you choose these times yourself 🙈

“Right. Not for our first time.” He tipped his head back as he took a breath, no doubt trying to control himself. “Just one more kiss, Kotyonok. One more for me to dream about tonight,” he groaned, bringing his face back to yours for one more kiss with fervor. Just when you thought it would turn more ravenous, he shifted to something soft, tender. A feeling that had both of you shaking when it ended, but likely for different reasons.

Very different reasons 🥴

“It doesn't matter, but if you really want to see and hear me, please, pay attention,” you said, yanking your arm away. “I want to go home.” “Why? Is it because that kiss meant something to you and you don't want to admit it?” He asked, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “If you're embarrassed that it made you wet, don't be. I'm flattered. Besides, it got me hard.”

Geez Barnes just listen to her 🤦🏻‍♀️

Heat filled your cheeks and you wanted to smack him. There was a fine line between the delusion he had in his head and the reality of the situation. The tightrope you were walking was close to snapping. “I’m not embarrassed. I can't breathe.” You stepped back, trying to give yourself space. Was Ray watching from the car? “Everything in my life recently has revolved around you or you being there. Say what you want about me being lonely, it doesn't give you an excuse to take over.”

I beg you, please smack some sense into him!

Bucky’s smile slipped, like he was really seeing how bothered you were. “I told you I just want to love you. And you enjoy Quality Time.” “Quality Time when we agree upon it. And love itself should be the thing to take my breath away, not you smothering me,” you gently stated.

This!!!

“I’m not trying to smother you.” He shifted like he was the one uncomfortable, his gaze flicking to the ground. “I… I know you can't breathe,” he said, lifting a hand as if to reach out before he dropped it and took a deep breath. “That’s why I'm leaving you alone tomorrow,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You're what?” You asked in disbelief, catching the hint of vulnerability in his eyes as his shoulders dropped. He hadn't left you alone since he broke in. Why in the world would he stop now? “I was going to bring it up when I dropped you off.” His hand worked its way through his hair. “I’ve been thinking about it and talking and… I’m smothering you. I know I am. Rearranging your schedule, making you meet my friends, and everything else. So…” He reached for you this time and took your hand. “I’m giving you a breather and I’m not going to be around tomorrow. No surprise visits. No calls. Maybe a text, but nothing more.”

Good god it's so up and down with him, im gonna get whiplash 🥴

You blinked. “So, we won't see each other tomorrow?” You tried not to get too excited. It was only a day, but between that and the girls day that was still something. You had to go the cautiously optimistic route again and take what you got.

She's better than me, I would have done a happy dance or something lol

“That’s my girl.” He turned and paused at the door with a smile. “Can I at least help you try on the dress? Or you can model it for me and I'll tell you how beautiful you are.” You smiled back a little. “Don't push your luck,”

For real 😒

Hold You Tight: Part 12

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 11 | Series Masterlist | Part 13

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.7k

Chapter Summary: Bucky gets under your skin when he takes you shopping.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, dirty talk, mild dubcon (kissing, touching), tension, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, gaslighting, manipulation, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and hope you enjoy! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren’t sure how much time passed with Bucky’s head resting in your lap, your fingers absentmindedly moving through his hair. While his body relaxed, you remained rigid. You tried to think of positive things. Your upcoming trip to the winery, Addison’s wedding. The images in your mind darkened though as if a cloud loomed over them. In a way, it did because you didn’t know what Bucky had planned for those events. Because even if Bucky really let you go to the winery alone, someone would be watching.

You forced the cloud in your mind to lift. Things could still be positive. You could still have a good day and have the best time with your friends.

“I’m sorry, but I have to get back to work,” you whispered.

“Of course,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to your thigh and lifting his head with a smile. The darkness had left his eyes. How long until it returned? “Thank you for calming me down.”

“Of course,” you echoed because what else could you do?

Brushing his pants off once he got to his feet, he helped you up and didn’t let go of your hand. You didn’t attempt to pull away. He made sure to grab the money you left on the table before he paid the server and you tried to give the poor guy a smile when you thanked him. You just wanted to get on with your day.

As Bucky led you out of the cafe and back to the shop, you caught Ray’s gaze as he stood by the car and waited for his boss. Whatever concern he showed for you faded when he blinked. How did he deal with this life? Would he ever walk away from it?

“I’ll pick you up after work then?” Bucky asked.

“Sure,” you said. You didn’t tell him when your shift ended, but he knew, didn’t he? “Thanks for lunch.”

“It was my pleasure, but one more thing.” Bucky stopped you before you could enter the shop. “This regular customer you mentioned earlier. How often does he stop in?”

He asked as if he had no idea and maybe he didn’t in this case. That assumption didn’t ease your worries. “Once a month,” you said, your stomach turning slightly. “Listen, the roses he tried to give to me, I gave them to him first. They were his usual order and I thought it would be nice gesture and I was just-”

“I… I don’t know,” you said. You didn’t necessarily think he’d be upset with you, but after his mood swings at lunch and everything else so far you weren't sure what to expect. “I just don't know.”

“No, no, no, I’m not mad at you. Why would I be mad that you were kind to another person? That’s one of the things I love about you. It drew me to you,” he assured you. You oddly felt better by his assurance. “I don’t want you to stop doing kind things for others because you’re worried it might upset me.”

“So, it doesn’t upset you?”

“You being you would never upset me,” he smiled. He had said more than once that he loved you as a person, so maybe he was telling the truth. “A man trying to give flowers to you while going through a break-up is, at the very least, a little strange.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you said, not wanting to admit that he had a point and that you were slightly put off when Clark tried to give the roses to you.

“I’m also well aware that you don’t hit on any guy who comes into your shop, so I wouldn’t view any act of kindness to a customer as trying to get their attention.”

“That’s true,” you agreed. Even Ray had pointed out to you that you didn’t give guys in the shop the time of day. Why would you when most of them were buying flowers for someone else? “But I just wanted you to know.”

You weren’t sure why your heart fluttered. Relief that Bucky reacted calmly to what you said? You didn’t dwell on it as he held the door open and smiled after you as you went back into the shop. It was time to concentrate on work again.

Mrs. Crandle smiled and waved to Bucky through the door. “Oh, he is a looker,” she winked. “How was lunch, dear?”

“The food was good and Bucky and I got to talk a bit, which was… nice,” you answered, glancing around the shop and wondering if the place was bugged, too. Could he get access to the shop? Letting you continue to work seemed too good to be true, but he’d have nothing to worry about if he had eyes and ears there, too. “He’s taking me shopping tonight.”

She clapped her hands. “Oh, that’s wonderful! And don’t you dare be modest. Let him spoil you.”

“I have a feeling he’ll spoil me even if I don't ask him to,” you said.

Your whole experience with Bucky was whether you wanted it or not, so why would he stop now?

As expected, Bucky arrived back at the shop a few hours later to pick you up. Instead of giving him the chance to go inside and speak to Mrs. Crandle again, you grabbed your bag and rushed out the door to greet him. He caught you easily when you nearly collided with him, and for the first time, you felt like you were intruding in his space instead of the other way around.

“Eager to see me?” He smiled, his voice teasing as he kept a hand on your shoulder and helped you into the vehicle when you didn’t immediately answer. “How was the rest of your shift? I hope no one else bothered you.”

Just you.

“It was uneventful. I got a lot done,” you replied, feeling a warmth spread through you from the normalcy of your afternoon. “And no one bothered me.” Your gaze flickered to him and he was hanging onto your every word. He also looked much more relaxed, like the moodiness at lunch never happened. “How about you? How was your day?”

“Also uneventful. A couple of boring calls. Kept thinking about you though and it got me through the day,” he said, slipping an arm around you as the car door closed. The way you two were speaking to each other sounded almost normal. Checking in on each other, seeing how the other was doing. “Steve asked about that double date.”

“I’m sure he’s excited for that,” you said, wondering if that poor coat check girl had any idea.

“We both are. You can find a dress for that, too,” he smiled fondly. “In fact, what would you think of me getting you a new wardrobe when you move in? Your style, your choice on everything. You name it.”

You raised an eyebrow, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty washing over you. “Is there something wrong with my current wardrobe?” You hadn’t done anything to deserve a whole new set of clothes and you hoped he wasn’t suggesting it to mold you more to his liking.

“Nothing wrong with it at all. You have great taste and I just want to spoil you,” he said, running a finger down your side. This was the man who let you go into his exclusive club wearing a dressed down outfit simply because it was you, so he’d probably let you get away with any sort of wardrobe you wanted. “Do you know how ravishing you look right now?”

“I’m not ravishing. I’m in my work clothes,” you muttered.

“You are ravishing,” he said, moving his finger back up as you shivered. “We should get some stargazer lilies for your first night in our home. I could strip you down, lay you out on our bed, and brush one of the petals along your skin.”

You inhaled sharply and closed your eyes, trying not to picture him spreading you out on a luxurious bed. He would say something like that when he was right in your space and you had nowhere to go. The man went from zero to sixty in seconds. No doubt he could feel you tremble and knew your heart was racing.

“Bet it’ll feel soft against your nipples,” he whispered, exhaling against your ear. “And your pussy.”

Your next breath was shallow, but you managed not to whimper. “Where are we going shopping?” You asked evenly, hoping to get to the destination sooner rather than later.

You stubbornly kept your eyes shut when he chuckled. “You’re changing the topic because you’re thinking about it, aren’t you? Worried you’ll get your panties soaked before we get to the shop?” He questioned, your heart thudding. You didn’t want to think about it at all. You wanted out of the car so you could properly breathe again. “I’m sorry. I’m not playing nice, am I? We’re going to one of your favorite stores and you can pick out whatever you want.”

You’d no doubt look at the price tags out of habit since you shopped on a budget and bought your nicer pieces on sale. “Do you ever really play nice?” You asked, opening your eyes. “One moment you’re being vulnerable and talking about your family and the next time I see you you’re talking about sleeping with me. I’m shocked the whiplash hasn’t scrambled my brain.”

The image of him destroying the utensil at lunch like it was nothing flashed in your mind for some reason. And him and his gang beating up John. Just how strong was he? Was he a killer?

“Sometimes we’ll talk about something tough or serious and the next it may be something more fun or intimate. That’s part of being in a relationship,” he said. If only it were an authentic relationship. “I want that with you, telling you what’s on my mind and how I feel.”

If he cared about what was on your mind or how you felt, he’d back off and let you have a bit of space. “Relationships are built on mutual respect and trust,” you said. Did he not see that the mutual respect wasn't there since he pushed for things to be his way? And trust was something he couldn't force no matter how powerful he was.

“I understand that. You also said a first date was getting to know each other and seeing if there's a mutual connection. I'm opening up to you, letting you get to know me. I’m getting to know you, too, beyond the things I knew in advance,” he said. What was he learning about you that he didn’t already know? “And you can't tell me you don't feel something for me.”

“Do you want me to tell you what you want to hear, Bucky? That I want you and want to be with you?” You asked. Even if you did develop feelings for him, it would have to be classified as some form of stockholm syndrome. And even then, strong feelings wouldn’t be enough. He wanted everything from you. “That I don’t want anyone else?”

The hand along your side crept up to your neck, tension heightening when he gently squeezed. He loved putting his hand around your throat. “You do want me, you do want to be with me, you’ll never want anyone else once I have you and I know you love how much I want you,” he spoke with confidence, like he could make the words come true as you took your next breath. “Should I check your panties before we go inside and feel how wet they are?”

You needed to distract him. Fight him. Do something. “What’s your love language?” You blurted out. “Physical Touch?”

“What?” He whispered, your heart still pounding when he slowly moved his hand away from your throat.

“Your love language. You constantly touch me when I’m close to you, so I guessed Physical Touch,” you explained. He always had a hand on you.

He sat back with a pensive look. “No one has ever asked me that.”

“Oh,” you said as the car rolled to a stop. You blindly reached for the door handle. “Well, it’s something to think about if you don’t know.”

You nodded slowly. It was why you loved hanging out with your girlfriends. You cherished making memories with them.

“You also appreciate Words of Affirmation, even if compliments make you feel uncertain because you sometimes feel overlooked. The combination of those languages makes you feel seen and heard,” he continued, giving you a tender smile. “I can hear and see you if you let me.”

You found yourself unable to speak as he gauged your reaction, your throat tight as if gripped by an unseen force. He nailed it right on the head about your love languages, didn't he? “I need air,” you whispered, letting yourself out of the car once he let you go.

The tightness in your throat moved to your heart. Bucky saw and heard you in his own way, didn't he? Not just as a passing thought but because he genuinely believed he loved you, deeply and wholeheartedly. The more he sank his fangs in, the more venom he injected. You had to be your own antidote.

With a shake of your head, you glanced up at the shop. True to his word, it was one you loved. Another piece of yourself that would now be tied to him.

You jumped when Bucky appeared beside you and took your arm. “You okay?” He asked, studying your face with gentle eyes.

“Just fine,” you replied, smiling for his sake. “Let's go shopping.”

You walked into the boutique together, the air filled with a subtle mix of lavender and something sweet that made you feel right at home. The space was a blend of trendy and rustic, exuding charm and intimacy. Clothes lined the wooden shelves and vintage racks, showcasing a variety of styles that ranged from casual to bold. Delicate accessories sparkled in the soft light, inviting you to explore.

You could easily find the perfect dress for the winery here.

“Hello! Welcome to… Oh! Mr. Barnes,” the associate smiled, her heels clicking on the floor. She was a picture perfect example of style and beauty. “I have the back dressing room set up and I’ll be sure no one disturbs you or your girlfriend. It was sundresses you requested, correct?”

Bucky looked proud of himself. “Yes, the perfect sundress for my girl,” he smiled, his blue eyes sparkling as he looked at you. “And whatever dress you choose, you’ll need jewelry. Oh, and a clutch.”

“Girlfriend?” You asked. He must not have wanted a repeat of how the hostess treated the two of you at lunch. “Wait, you already have dresses selected for me to try on?”

“He called and gave us all the details. And we’ll make sure you have everything you need,” the associate promised as Bucky nudged you ahead of him to follow her. Was anyone else in the shop? “Would either of you like a water?”

“No thank you,” you said. You were never offered a water when you shopped there before, but you were never there with Bucky Barnes.

“Just let me know if you need anything at all,” she smiled, opening the dressing room door.

Bucky thanked her as he took a seat in one of the chairs across from the door, watching you expectantly. “If you don't like any of them, we can go somewhere else.”

“I’m sure they're fine,” you said, going into the room and shutting the door before he could say anything else.

Quickly slipping off your shoes, pants, and top, you turned your attention to a small rack with a range of sundresses. Checking each tag as you pushed through them, none of them on sale, it wasn't a surprise that they were all your size. And all something you'd consider wearing. After flipping through the dresses twice, you decided to try on a sleeveless white dress with small rosebuds. It would be nice for a vineyard.

Before you could put the dress on, the door opened. “Need any help?” Bucky asked as you spun around in your bra and underwear, his eyes slowly scanning your body before you had a chance to cover yourself.

“No. I…” you trailed off as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

He stared at you for what felt like an eternity before he breathed your name, want written all over his face. The dressing room felt small. Hot. You could hardly breathe as panic threatened to overwhelm you. And you couldn't do anything but step back as he stepped closer, a predator ready to capture his prey.

Your back hit the mirror when he brought a hand to your chin, your knees shaking as he leaned in. “You’re right about one thing,” he said in a husky tone. “I do crave Physical Touch. Yours.”

He pressed his lips to yours, keeping you still and giving you no chance to turn your head away. It was a light, feathering sort of kiss before his tongue flicked out to trace your lips. He teased you until you opened up for him and allowed his tongue to sweep into your mouth. You couldn't think as he groaned and continued his claim. It was only a matter of time until he claimed you completely.

Bucky pulled away a little, his free hand moving down your torso in a possessive path. “Fuck, you taste so sweet,” he rasped. You felt so small, your insides both frozen and melting from his touch. “Just wanna take you home and make you ride my face before I fuck you.”

You gasped when his knee moved between your legs, your hands flying up to hold his arms. He rocked his leg and you felt power in the motion, a promise of what was to come once he had you where he wanted you. “Bucky,” you whispered. The next word out of your mouth was smothered by his lips, but he didn't increase the urgency in his kisses. He took his time. Like the world could be burning around you and he’d let the flames take over as long as he was kissing you.

You bit back a whimper when he rocked his knee harder, the friction sending heat to your core. Another roll of his body and you were certain you felt the outline of his cock. Bringing a hand to his chest, you lightly pushed. It was already going too far. To your surprise, he broke the kiss. His eyes were still hungry though. “You said you want to hear me?” You asked breathlessly, your lip trembling when his thumb brushed it. “Then not here, please,” you whispered, praying he'd stop.

If he was going to have you, it wouldn't be in a dressing room.

You stayed upright when he stepped back and gave you space, but your legs still shook as he straightened up his clothes and looked you over once more. If he could devour you with a look... “Thank you.” He actually listened to you and didn't push it any further.

He glanced down as he adjusted his pants and you tried to avoid looking at the tent he began to sport. Horror filled you when your gaze went lower to the wet spot by his knee. He hadn't gotten you off, but you both knew he sparked some arousal within you. “Can’t wait ‘til you really make a mess on my pants,” he smirked, walking out just as quietly as he entered the tiny room.

Fighting back tears once he shut the door, you touched your lips. Bucky finally kissed you. Your mouth still tingled. You still felt him there.

Glancing at the rack of dresses, you wished he really was a sweet boyfriend trying to spoil you just because he could. But he hadn't given you a chance to pick them out yourself. He spoke for you, like you were a doll. It was just another piece he put in place for his twisted puzzle of your relationship.

What was wrong with you?

You pulled your clothes back on and flung the door open so hard it almost hit the wall. Bucky’s smug look immediately changed to concern when you walked out holding a sundress. “This one's fine,” you said in a flat tone.

“Are you sure?” He asked, sitting up more in his chair. “You didn't try it on, did you?”

“It’s the one I want,” you said, calling for the associate before Bucky had a chance to argue. You gave her a stiff smile when she joined you and handed over the garment, feeling Bucky’s eyes on you. “Whatever jewelry and handbag you think will go with this, I’ll take it. I trust your judgment.”

“Oh, this dress is lovely and we have the perfect accessories for this. Would you like to look at shoes as well? Or maybe something to go with any of the other dresses?” She asked, her eyes wide as you brushed past her. “Miss?”

“I’m sorry. I need to step outside,” you said, not wanting to be rude to her.

Bucky called after you, but you ignored him. You were furious with yourself. You let him kiss you and allowed some of his words to get under your skin. He didn't fuck you, but he still won, didn't he? And you were letting him. Just like with everything else.

You took two steps out of the shop before you felt a grip on your arm. “Woah. Slow down,” Bucky said, turning you to face him. “What’s wrong?”

Everything.

“It doesn't matter, but if you really want to see and hear me, please, pay attention,” you said, yanking your arm away. “I want to go home.”

“Why? Is it because that kiss meant something to you and you don't want to admit it?” He asked, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “If you're embarrassed that it made you wet, don't be. I'm flattered. Besides, it got me hard.”

Bucky’s smile slipped, like he was really seeing how bothered you were. “I told you I just want to love you. And you enjoy Quality Time.”

“Quality Time when we agree upon it. And love itself should be the thing to take my breath away, not you smothering me,” you gently stated.

“You're what?” You asked in disbelief, catching the hint of vulnerability in his eyes as his shoulders dropped. He hadn't left you alone since he broke in. Why in the world would he stop now?

“I was going to bring it up when I dropped you off.” His hand worked its way through his hair. “I’ve been thinking about it and talking and… I’m smothering you. I know I am. Rearranging your schedule, making you meet my friends, and everything else. So…” He reached for you this time and took your hand. “I’m giving you a breather and I’m not going to be around tomorrow. No surprise visits. No calls. Maybe a text, but nothing more.”

But you also couldn't help but wonder why he was really giving you that space. Did Ray or someone say something to him? Was this another ploy to keep you in line?

“You won't see me. God knows I’ll miss you, but it's just a day, right?” He squeezed your hand. “Maybe you’ll miss me, too.”

“I appreciate you giving me that space,” you said sincerely. He needed that space, too, even if he didn't believe it. “And maybe I will.”

“We won't have to miss each other much longer once we're together in the penthouse,” he said, his tone soft and your heart sinking. “Will you answer one thing: Did that kiss mean something to you?”

You didn't want to answer that. If you denied it, it would be a lie or he’d either see through it or snap. If you confirmed it, it would feed him more hope. You still had to examine your feelings because you were afraid and you couldn't think with him staring at you with those longing eyes.

“It meant something,” you answered, not expanding on what exactly it meant when he exhaled. It wasn't smart to let him decipher it how he wished because he could use it against you later.

He took your breath away once more when he pulled you close and brushed his lips against yours. Just as quickly as he started, he stopped and brushed his nose against yours. Any passerby would think it was a sweet moment between a couple making up from an argument. “Thank you,” he whispered, his thumb moving along the racing pulse in your wrist. “Come back inside, please? Pick out a few things for real and then I’ll take you home so you can relax.”

You remembered that the bugs were still in your apartment, which took some more of your enthusiasm away. But if Bucky was really going to leave you alone tomorrow, you’d have to appreciate the time to yourself. Maybe you could pack a bag and get out of the city even sooner than planned.

It wouldn't hurt to try, right? What was the worst that could happen? Making him freak out over your safety? That could be bad.

“Okay. A few things for real and then home,” you agreed.

“That’s my girl.” He turned and paused at the door with a smile. “Can I at least help you try on the dress? Or you can model it for me and I'll tell you how beautiful you are.”

You smiled back a little. “Don't push your luck,” you said, missing the pair of blue eyes that watched you and Bucky go back into the shop.

So, a little bit of action. 😏 Will it be enough to tide Bucky over? Is he really going to leave you alone for a day? Who was watching you? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 days ago

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Chapter 14: Don't Be A Bundt Cake

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

Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy, Miscommunication Trope

Word Count: 13.1K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Talks of Death, DENIAL, Idiots in Love, Pining by the Reader (and SB, but he won't admit it) Depressing Thoughts, Mentions of sexual assault/rape (not detailed at all, really just in passing) Talks about weed, Sexist comments, Ben makes derogatory comments, Threatening Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

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

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: I am so sorry this one took me a bit longer. The writers block was fighting me the whole way, but we are very closely nearing the end of this series and the moment the reader and Ben stop being so stinkin' stubborn.

Reader POV

You lean your forehead against the cool window, watching the world flash by in a flurry of color. The wooded forests had vanished hours ago and all that was left were the yellowed sprawling fields of corn and grain and family farms that were laid sporadically along the interstate. Each one a little world that caught the flecks of golden sunlight as the sun began to peak above the horizon.

The bus rolled smooth and steady over the weathered pavement towards it's destination and was filled with an odd assortment of people young and old. There was man with a brightly colored parrot that had been singing "It's A Small World After All" since you left NYC, a woman with a little boy playing with an iPad and who refused to turn down the volume no matter how many times his mother asked him to, a group of teenagers a few seats up that continued to pass around a flask, and due to how far back you were sitting on the bus an uncomfortable smell emanated from the bathroom each time the door was opened.

But you didn't notice any of it.

The only thing on your mind were the events that happened almost twenty hours ago. They continued to circle your mind, playing over and over again like a perverted cassette tape making you sink further into the worn cloth covered seat at the back of the bus. The images were haunting, some new and some old, but all the more still horrible to re-live.

The song "Nights In White Satin" floating into the backseat of your family's car, the flash of unnatural light you knew was never lightning, the caskets at your parent's funeral covered in flowers that were much to pretty to lay on something so morbid, Elijah's body succumbing to the poppies that ripped him apart, the proud sneer on your brother's face when he admitted to killing your parents, Darren's broken and bloodied body strewn in pieces over the street with the creature standing over him with a dripping red maw, the ruined building that housed "Please Don't Die" reduced to nothing more than rubble, and the look on Ben's face when you turned your back on him and fled the scene.

For some reason that particular image seemed to cling on to you and refused to fade. You'd never seen him look that way, almost… helpless and a little fearful. In all the time you'd known him, Ben had never looked at you that way. Sure you'd seen him proud, angry, cocky, lustful, mischievous, but never fearful. And you were sure that it wasn't an emotion that he was used to feeling, but that begged the question… why?

Why was he looking at me like that? Why wouldn't he let me go? And what was he afraid of?

The creature curled in your lap snorts something in it's sleep, turning it’s head further into the cradle of your elbow to shut out the brilliant early morning sunlight. It was now the size of a toaster and had warranted several odd looks whenever you got off to change buses, but you didn't care.

You weren't sure about anything anymore. Everything your brother confessed to you made you feel like you were living a lie and the revelation of exactly what your powers could do- take life from plants to heal yourself, create whatever the hell it was on your lap, and speak to plants… it scared you.

You thought for so long that you knew everything about your powers, that you were in control, but now you weren't sure.

You felt different, as if something had unlocked deep down that you couldn't shut up again.

You'd felt different after you killed Elijah, but this was more alive, weaving and twisting in the pit of your stomach. You felt more connected to the earth, to the world outside the bus even though you were divided by glass and metal. You could feel the energy that thrummed through the body of the creature on your lap, bending to your will, the life force of the plants it was formed from molding with you, becoming a part of you.

You felt so different than the person you had been before Darren entered the shop, so uncertain, and there was only one place you wanted to be when you felt like this… home. You couldn't wait to run up the worn front steps of your grandmother's house and into her arms. She always knew what to say in times like this.

And you desperately needed the comfort of her embrace.

The phone in your pocket buzzes again and you flip the screen to see the ridiculous selfie Annie and you had taken on Halloween last year. The one that you'd both spent dressed up as the two brothers from your favorite paranormal tv show. It wasn't the first time she'd called. Annie had called and texted you more times than you could count over the past twenty hours but you didn't answer her. You didn’t want to.

It was the first time that you didn't want to talk to her, but talking to her meant that you'd have to re-live all of it again and you were clawing at the last shred of sanity you had left to keep it together.

The overwhelming waves of emotion kept pummeling you, dragging you deeper beneath the white surf. Each one brought the memories of what happened surging over you and were followed by everything that Darren said to you. Years of taking care of Darren and doing whatever he wished were tearing at your soul, years of giving up little things in your life to make him happy, and years of taking care of a man who you thought cared about you, but hated you enough to kill your parents and try to kill you too.

It made your skin crawl. Each time your brother told you that he loved you was an even bigger lie and now that you knew the truth and saw him for what he was, it felt like you were drowning. The darkness that ebbed just on the edge was begging you to leap into the abyss, but you were resisting the best you could.

The tears had stopped falling miles ago, but you couldn't stop the memories or the emotion that formed a cold ball in the pit of your stomach.

A sigh works it's way up and you pull your legs on the seat underneath you, jostling the creature on your lap that raises it's head for a moment to blink it's black eyes at you sleepily.

It was surprisingly docile right now, especially considering that twenty hours ago it had ripped your brother to shreds. In fact it seemed to understand how upset you were and had spent the better part of the last twenty hours rubbing it's head against your arm as if trying to bring you some comfort. It was settled on your lap, the weight of it a comfort, almost like a weighted plushy that gave you something to focus on.

"It's alright buddy." You whisper, scratching him under his chin. "We're almost home."

The phone in your jacket pocket buzzes again, but when you pull it out to turn it off, you catch a glimpse of the screen, and you hesitate. Because this time it's not Annie who's calling, it’s Ben.

The picture that flashes on the screen under the contact name "Gramps" is the picture of Mr. Fredrickson from Up. It always made you smile whenever he called you and you saw the picture because Ben did often remind you of him. He was certainly just as grumpy as Mr. Fredrickson and just as out of touch, but you thought it was cute.

Your thumb hovers over the answer button and you think about talking to him.

But what would I say?

You weren't sure what to say to him, or why you wanted to speak to him so badly, why you wanted him to be sitting here on the bus with you as you went home, and why you wanted him to hold you against his chest while you allowed yourself to break, but you did. You wanted to feel his awkward shoulder pat and his awkward version of hand holding and you wanted to hear him try to tell you to "buck up" or whatever he thought that a comforting word should be.

He's really not the best at that.

You smile to yourself at the memory of how he tried to comfort you back at the hospital, but the longer you sit there and look down at the picture on the screen the worse you feel.

Maybe that scared you more than your newfound powers, how much you were realizing that you needed him, how much you depended on him when things got too much for you to bear. The memory of him appearing as soon as you needed him back at the shop, another of him grabbing Darren and throwing him into the street as soon as Darren insulted you comes in a flash, and finally followed by the memory of Ben carrying you out of Elijah's office while you curled into his chest. You couldn't remember too much from that moment, in fact you'd thought that Ben had kissed you on top of your head, but you ascribed that to the haze of pain you'd been in from your broken arm.

What you did remember was how wonderfully warm he was after you'd been trapped in that damn freezer and how nice it felt to be in his arms. Another memory of Ben sleeping on the couch at the hospital bubbles up and you feel something in your chest begin to crack open. And you try your best to tell yourself the same thing that you always do when you feel like Ben might care more about you that he was letting on.

Ben doesn't want that. He's made it perfectly clear. He doesn't want a relationship. He's only wants one night, that's why he goes out with all those women-

You hesitate, thumb still hovering over the answer button as you do, the memory of the week you'd spent at the apartment with him flickering in the back of your mind. The week where he refused to leave you alone in the apartment, where he refused to do any jobs for Butcher, where he took care of you the best way he could, when he sat with you on the couch and made you laugh with his ridiculous movies, and the week where he hadn't had one date.

Your finger itched to answer the phone, but you couldn't, because you didn't want to feel this way about Ben, not when he'd told you countless times that you kept romanticizing him, not when he told you that he didn't want a relationship, and not when you could feel yourself beginning to fall for someone you thought was the wrong man.

For just a moment you tried to pretend that it was different, that he was different, but you didn't want to. It only made it hurt more.

The phone stops ringing, but the pit in your stomach still gapes open at you and for the first time in twenty hours you feel tears begin to fall. You didn't know why you were crying about this, why the thought of not picking up Ben's phone call seemed to hurt more than everything that had happened, but something made it hurt.

The bus driver announces over the overhead that you're reaching your final destination as he takes the exit for your hometown. The familiar buildings that line the streets are sheathed in a honeyed glow from the sun, the long shadow of the bus darkening them momentarily as it rumbles down the small streets to the bus station.

When it rumbles to a stop at the bus station you wait for everyone else to get off, trying to summon the strength to stand, and swipe the back of your hand across your face to rid yourself of the remaining tears.

The bus station was about a thirty minute walk from your grandmother's house, and you still hadn't called her. You didn't know what to say, didn't know how to tell her that Darren was dead and that he was the reason why your parents were dead.

The creature crawls up your body to drape it's warm body over the back of your neck as you stand. It wasn't bothering to hide, besides the people in your hometown already thought that you were odd because you were a supe and you'd always welcomed it. You give him a scratch on top of his head and his warm tongue flicks on the bottom of your earlobe as if thanking you before it curls further into the side of your neck, seeking warmth.

The first few steps on solid ground are shaky, but you find the strength while taking in a deep cleansing breath of the outside world, letting the gentle warmth of the sun and the tickle of the autumn breeze pull at your coat. You hadn't stopped at your apartment before coming here, instead you had stumbled your way to the bus station covered in dust, flecked in blood, and demanded the first ticket back to Illinois. It was lucky that the next bus was leaving immediately, because you didn’t want to spend another second in NYC, not when all you wanted was to be home.

Plus you were worried that someone had recorded what exactly happened outside the plant shop and you didn't want to get arrested.

It was self defense anyway. Maybe Jake would represent me in court.

The thought of Jake makes you twinge. You hadn't checked to see if he was alright before you ran from the scene. Not to mention you'd destroyed the shop he'd put all his life savings into after he stopped being a lawyer.

Oh fuck, what if he sues me? He can't exactly sue Darren…

You hear someone call your name and you open your eyes.

Your grandmother is standing in front of the same baby blue pickup truck that she'd had longer than you've been alive, wearing a long multicolored skirt and a pressed white blouse tucked elegantly into it. Her silver hair is loose and long, curling over her shoulders in gentle waves. She looks the same way she looked one week ago when she left, and you've never seen anything so beautiful in your life.

You're running before you can stop yourself, crumbling into her warm embrace, with more tears streaking down your face, but she doesn't mind.

"Shh. It's alright honey." She whispers, rubbing her hand over your back, her embrace steady and surprisingly strong. "Let's go home."

Her home is the same as it's always been. A two story Victorian house painted in a happy yellow shade, with a white wrap around porch and two white rocking chairs sitting empty on the front porch. You'd spent more nights than you could count rocking silently beside her with a crochet project in your lap listening to the rain fall and soak the world outside, while the plants sang praises with every gentle bend beneath the heavy droplets.

You could barely remember the home you spent in your early years with your parents, not when you'd spent most of your childhood spending the night here and after your parents died living here permanently. There was still a large oak tree were a wooden swing swung in the slight breeze on the left side of the yard, a gardenia bush that stretched as high as the second story on the right side of the house and brushed it's soft leaves against the sunshine colored outer walls, a garden filled with both flowering plants and herbs that perked up on both sides of the front yard as you walked up the path, and a cobblestone path that Annie and you had spent hours of your shared childhood covering in chalk art.

Neither of you were good, but when the rain would fall and smudge the clean lines, you'd jump in the puddles that pooled along the walkway singing the lyrics to ABBA's "Cassandra" not quite understanding what it meant.

Standing here outside your house made you miss Annie and feel worse about not calling or texting her back, but you didn't feel like talking about what happened and you were sure that Butcher filled her in. The only thing that you wanted was to collapse in your bedroom upstairs and curl under the comforters.

Despite everything the house was a welcome sight, but at the same time it was different. You could feel the plants calling out to you, asking for you, bending towards you just to touch your shoes as you walked by. You'd never felt so connected with them before, not even when you were in your apartment or working at the shop. It was overwhelming.

And although a part of you was frightened by it, another part of you rejoiced in it. You didn't feel alone, didn't feel weak, and you knew that you never would ever again.

The creature nuzzled into the side of your neck with a sigh, soaking up the sun's healing rays as you walked up the front steps with your grandmother following behind you silently. She hadn't spoken since she picked you up at the bus station and you hadn't supplied anything in the ten minute car ride back to her house.

You didn't know where to start and you were still trying to process everything yourself.

The inside of her house was just as cozy and warm as it was the day you moved out. There were photos of your parents and you covering the walls (Darren's had been placed in the closet long ago), half-finished knitting projects sorted in different baskets on both the dining room table and the living room coffee table, spools of yarn were strewn over the couch sorted by color, and the fresh smell of gardenia wafted through the open windows on the breeze.

It was home. This was what you'd been missing the moment everything began to crash over you, but as you stood there in the familiar living room it felt like something was missing. Something tugged at the back of your mind, but you couldn't put your finger on it.

There was something or rather someone that should be here, but you didn't know what or who. And your mind supplied Annie, but you weren't sure that's who you meant.

"Let's have some tea." Your grandmother says from behind you and you feel her soft hands come down on your shoulders to steer you through the familiar creative chaos and into the large kitchen at the back of the house.

The kitchen isn't spared from the madness, it rarely was. There are boxes upon boxes of cookies in different stages of being packaged all over the counter, dirty bowls and a measuring cup stacked in the sink, and a large opened bag of chocolate chips spilling over the flour covered kitchen island.

It wasn't unusual to find the kitchen or the house in a state of chaos, your grandmother always said that a house should look lived in and that the mess was part of the fun of any major project as long as you were responsible enough to clean it up.

"Bake sale?" You ask as you sit down in the breakfast nook, uttering the first words that you'd said to another human being in twenty hours.

The next breath that you inhale was supposed to be cleansing, but you can still feel a weight pressing down on your chest, the same one that settled in the moment everything happened with Darren.

You contemplate again how you're going to tell her that Darren is dead and was the reason why your parents died.

Damn it Darren.

"Mhmm." She hums, filling the well used red kettle. "Annie's mother practically cornered me in the supermarket yesterday and begged me to make cookies. I love Annie, but her mother needs someone to pull that stick out of her ass. It's been up there for so long that I'm sure it's rotten."

The creature crawls down from your shoulders and down your arm to sniff at one of the chocolate chip cookies nearest you. It hadn't eaten since…

Darren.

You wince slightly at the thought and hope that you hadn't created something that needed and craved human flesh. The last thing you wanted to unleash on the world was Audry two especially in the wake of Homelander.

Truthfully you were waiting for the guilt at killing your brother to come, but it never had and you wondered if it ever would.

Probably not. He deserved that, he killed our parents, he tried to kill me, he tried to kill Ben.

The thought of Ben again makes a lump form in the back of your throat. You didn't know what was happening to you only that you felt guilty for leaving him like that, for yelling at him to let you go, and just vanishing on him when he probably thought that you were going back to the apartment.

He doesn't know where I am. Maybe that's why he tried to call, because he got back to the apartment and couldn't find me there and he was worried. You press your lips together. Yeah. Worried. Right.

"Honey?" Your grandmother says in a soothing voice

You look up from the box of chocolate chip cookies that you didn't remember picking up. Even the creature is looking at you with an expression that you can only explain as worry.

"Yeah?" Your voice shakes slightly.

She's leaning back against the counter, arms crossed over her chest, head tilted slightly to the side, her beautiful grayed hair pulled up in an elegant bun, but in her eyes you can see genuine concern. "Fuck." She sighs after a minute.

You blink in surprise. It was the first time that you'd ever heard her say that word in your entire life.

"I shouldn't have left." She breathes. "I told Ben to look out for you. I told him, that little bastard was bound to show up again and what did he do? He left you at that plant shop alone with no protection!"

You'd only seen her really angry a handful of times in your lifetime. Like you, your grandmother often had a gentle disposition and didn't get angry unless the situation called for it.

I mean, Darren admitted to killing our parents and then got fucking ripped apart. But how does she know about any of that? I haven't told her…

"How did you know that he left me there? Did Ben call you?" You ask putting down the box of cookies.

An odd expression crosses her face, as if she's contemplating something. "No." She hesitates again. "I saw it."

"No." Your grandmother hesitates. "I saw it."

"You saw it?" You repeat, confused.

What's going on?

"Too late of course, but I'm a little rusty. I was able to warn Ben that Darren was coming back. That's how he got there so quickly or rather-" She shrugs sheepishly. "He got there in time to make sure that Darren didn't get you to forgive him. Which you shouldn't have at all, but I know he's always had a talent for manipulating you."

"What?"

Is she saying what I think she's saying?

Instead of explaining further your grandmother walks out of the kitchen, leaving the kettle behind on the stove and you in a state of utter confusion.

Is she saying that she can see the future? Because that would mean that she's a supe and there's only one supe in history that I know of that can do that. A supe that no one has seen in over forty years.

You can hear her open the door to the closet under the stairs and the sound of her sifting through all the junk that the two of you had shoved in there over the years instead of finding the right place to put it.

When she comes back into the kitchen, she's holding a giant cardboard file box that you'd never paid attention to each time you opened the closet to find something. Your eyes shift from the box to her still not comprehending exactly what she was saying.

"I probably should have told you this a while ago, but…" She trails off and nods her head at the box before turning back to the kettle on the stove that has begun to scream. "I kept putting it off."

The box is old, worn at the edges, and theres a musty black fabric beneath a collection of yellowed photographs. You pull out the one on top to examine it.

Ben is standing there in his full Soldier Boy regalia outside of Vought tower and the woman standing next to him is Soothsayer. The outfit she wore was familiar, a black-skin tight suit with a blind fold tied over her eyes.

Soothsayer was a supe who could see the future and who was apart of Payback, a supe that had vanished a year before the mission in Nicaragua and no one knew where she went. There were rumors that she'd died and that she'd been a Russian spy, but you'd never believed them. You'd heard Butcher talk about how he tried to find her when he was trying to figure out what happened to Soldier Boy, but he never had. Said that the trail went cold.

But now you knew where she went, because she was standing directly in front of you.

She's Soothsayer? Holy fuck that's why Ben kept accusing her of cheating in the poker game because he knew that she could see the future.

"You were Soothsayer?" You gasp. "But why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me?"

She continues to measure the tea leaves. "I didn't tell anyone."

"Grandpa didn't know? But he was alive when you were a supe?"

Your grandfather had never spoken about a history with supes that you remember.

"No." She turns to look at you, a hurt expression crossing over her face for a minute. "Well, I know that I said I was going to have tea, but if we're going to talk about this I'm going to need something a little bit stronger."

Your grandmother opens a cabinet under the stove an pulls out an enormous bottle of scotch. Truth be told you'd never seen her drink more than just a glass of wine, to see her like this was about as shocking as seeing a polar bear sunning itself on a Florida beach.

"Do you still want the blueberry tea or do you need something a little stronger?" She looks back over her shoulder at you as she pulls down a glass for herself.

"I think I need something stronger." You answer honestly.

Learning about everything Darren had done was one thing, but finding out that your grandmother used to be a famous supe and that she never told you about it was another thing. It was like looking at another person. You'd always loved your grandmother's gentle way, her care for her community and her family soft, but now you weren't sure you really knew who she was.

She sits down across from you and hands you a glass of the amber colored liquid. There's a heavy silence that hangs between the two of you as she tries to find a way to start. The photo of her and Ben is laying on top of what you realize is her uniform inside the box and she smiles down at the photo, just a little twitch at the corner of her lips.

"I met Ben when I was twenty three years old." She begins taking a sip from the glass. "Legend 'discovered' me. I had the injection of Compound V maybe two years before that, not when I was born, but I hadn't gotten popular. Other powers were much more flashy and by then there were so many heroes coming out of the woodwork that someone with the ability to see the future didn't seem as marketable."

There's something reflected in her blue eyes, the same eyes your father had, that you can't place. "I had just moved to New York, I had no money, and the way I was getting it was by pretending to be a fortune teller and betting on some sports events on the side. It wasn't hard to prove that I could see the future, the past was more difficult, but Legend somehow stumbled into my shop and figured out that I was a supe. And he didn't think I was too bad looking so he helped me get big."

"You pretended to be a fortune teller?"

She snorts into her glass. "Mhmm. People really will believe anything if they're desperate enough and back then there was so much turmoil going on with Russia that people were scared and wanted to feel comforted. My job provided some of that."

"But why did you walk away from it if you were such a big hero." You ask. "Everyone knew your name, you were-"

Your grandmother raises an eyebrow at you and you fall silent so she can continue. "When I got onto Payback that's when everything exploded for me, the films, the commercials, the ridiculous ads." She sighs. "That's also when I met Ben."

You take a sip from the glass in front of you, sputtering slightly. It was stronger than you were expecting. "And you two were-"

Please don't say dating, please don't say dating, please don't say…

"Friends. Just friends." Diana sits back against the back of the breakfast nook, sinking into the navy blue pillows. "But he is almost as charming now as he was then."

You cringe at the thought of Ben coming on to a younger version of your grandmother.

She taps her glass with her index finger deep in thought. "But I think that I was the only person that Ben actually talked to, the only person that he was comfortable being around."

"What do you mean?" You ask confused. "Didn't he talk to Countess and to Legend?"

Her expression hardens at the mention of Countess's name. "He didn't talk to her the way he talked to me. Ben is difficult, he always has been and I think that most of the people he meet him write him off as this asshole with a chauvinistic look on the world, but he's not. At least, not all the time. There are so many people that he's met that are never willing to take a chance on him. To trust that there is really something beneath all of that bravado."

It was what you had been thinking for the past week, that there was more to Ben than he was willing to let people see, but you were slowly realizing that Ben was letting you see those parts. In the quiet moments at your shared apartment when he sat with you while you read or made you laugh or walked you to and from work you saw another side of Ben that you never saw when he was around anyone else. The guilt rises again when you think of how you ran from him, how you turned your back and left him standing there to clean up your mess.

I shouldn’t have done that, but it was all just so overwhelming and I didn't want to talk to anyone.

"I think that Ben is the most loyal friend I ever had. No one ever seems to believe me when I say that. That we were just friends, but nothing happened between us."

"You didn't date? Or sleep together?" You ask cautiously. It was difficult to imagine Ben being friends with a woman and not having a sexual relationship with her.

Well. We're friends, but that's different.

The last thing you wanted to think about was Ben and your grandmother having sex.

I would need so much therapy after that. You sigh. Yeah, because after all the shit I've been through and found out about my life in the last twenty hours, the knowledge that Ben fucked my grandmother is what's going to push me over the edge.

"No." She shakes her head with a small smile. "About a week after I met Ben, I was running late to a movie shoot and I stepped off the crosswalk without looking. There was a car coming and I didn't see it. Ironic isn't it?" She laughs at herself. "I can see the future and I didn't see a car coming, but your grandfather did and he grabbed the back of my jacket and yanked me onto the sidewalk, saved my life. And the second my eyes locked with his I saw our future. I saw our wedding, our first house, I saw our son take his first steps and I saw how much I would love him and how much he would love me." She clears her throat for a minute, her fingers tighten on the glass, and her gaze drops to the wedding ring on her left hand. “The future is never set in stone, it’s fluid. It morphs and shapes with your decisions, but in the future I saw, I was so happy. And I didn’t want to lose that.”

Your grandfather had passed a few years ago, but you knew it weighed on her everyday. She had spent the week after he died in her room not saying anything to anyone. And sometimes she'd look out the window into the backyard with an odd expression, but you knew that meant she was thinking of him.

Growing up you'd seen how in love the two of them were, more so than your parents. Seen the flowers your grandfather always brought home just because he was thinking of her, watched him do little things around the house without being asked, saw how they never walked away angry from one another, and seen the soppy expression he'd get when he watched your grandmother move around the kitchen baking with a grace that you'd never possessed.

You reach across the table to touch her hand and she takes it gratefully.

"I didn't want to tell him that I was a supe, and at the beginning I thought I could balance it all, but then Ben started dating Countess." She takes another sip from her glass. "She hated me."

"What? Why?" You ask. The creature crawls across the table to sniff at the glass in front of you, before it snorts and falls into your lap, curling into a ball.

"Countess was a bitch." Your grandmother says mirthlessly, her expression hardening. "She wanted to possess Ben completely. Only loved how famous he was, how popular it made her, and he threw himself at her feet, in his own way, not understanding that love didn’t look that way. He’s never had a good example of it in his life. And she never understood that Ben and I were just friends. By then I had been dating your grandfather for a few months and things were getting serious. It was about a year before everything that happened in Nicaragua."

She presses her lips together as if remembering what happened to Ben there. "She was jealous, possessive, and she came to me one night. Ben was out of town for a film so she knew we wouldn’t be interrupted. She threatened to tell your grandfather who I really was and threatened to kill him.” Her jaw sets. “My powers were never really as offensive as hers were. And she said that Ben wouldn’t ever protect me over her because he loved her and would do anything to make her happy. So I left and I never looked back.”

And here I thought I couldn't hate Countess any more than I did for what she did to Ben.

“You didn’t talk to him ever again?” You wonder out loud.

She left without telling him goodbye?

“There was the occasional phone call. Sometimes Ben would ask me to see who was going to win a ball game or something so he could make a few bucks. He stopped by to say hi a few times because he was in the neighborhood. One time he brought your father a baseball glove that was way too big for a one year old.” She snorts, the memory flashing in her eyes. “I always thought Ben would be a good dad some day. But I think seeing your father was when Ben realized how much he wanted to have kids. And I think seeing the way your grandfather treated me made him start to feel conflicted about Countess. But he respected that I walked away, he saw that I was happy.”

“But what about Nicaragua?"

A dark look crosses her face followed by something that looks suspiciously like guilt. “I saw what they were going to do to him.”

“What? But why didn't you tell him what they were planning? Why didn't you-"

"I tried." She snaps, shoulders tense, but then they drop. "I called Ben, but Stan answered. By then your father was turning two, your grandfather had opened up his practice, and Stan threatened me, he knew where we were and knew everything about us. So I kept my mouth shut and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

You could feel your heart breaking for her.

Ben was her best friend and she had to sit by and watch them do that to him. She saw what they were going to do and they were going to kill her for it, kill my family for it.

The anger that surges in your chest makes the creature in your lap stir and grow a few inches, but you tamp it down before it gets bigger than a small dog.

“Does Ben know?” You ask her to distract yourself.

You didn't want Ben to hate your grandmother for this, didn't want him to hate her for something that wasn't her fault.

She nods. “Yes. I told him everything.”

“When?”

“The moment I saw him in your hospital room. I couldn’t keep it in any longer. I wasn't expecting him to be there, but it all poured out of me. I was so surprised to see him there. I hadn't seen a future where he came back."

“Was he mad?”

I mean… he didn't seem mad when I woke up, not to mention he was upset when she left to come back to Illinois.

“Not at me.” She shakes her head. “He knew how much I wanted a normal life and how much I loved your grandfather. He doesn’t blame me for any of it.”

“Good. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

The glass in front of you is still more than half-full but you don't want to risk another sip of what you're sure is gasoline packaged to look like Scotch. Your grandmother reaches to pour herself another glass.

“I didn’t want to until you were ready.”

“And when would that be?”

Your grandmother shrugs. “Maybe on my deathbed.”

You weren't angry for her not telling you, more surprised, but now that you knew everything about her it was hard to see her the same way you had.

You snort. “And no one knew?”

“Your dad figured it out.”

“How? When?”

“The moment you made that strawberry plant grow from your high chair.” She shakes her head with a smile. “It skipped a generation. Don’t know why, but you got it all somehow.”

“I was never injected?”

“No. That was a lie your father created. He knew that your grandfather didn't know and he knew that I didn't want your grandfather to know."

“Darren thought I was.”

“I know.”

At the mention of your brother's name, you watch her expression harden and she takes another swig from the glass in front of her, not flinching as the liquid goes down her throat.

“Did you see everything that happened?” You ask in a small voice.

You still weren't 100% sure how it was her powers worked, but you figured that she was able to see some of what Darren did and what he said.

“Yes.”

“You heard everything Darren said?"

“Yes.”

You chew the inside of your cheek for a minute hoping that she didn't take it as hard as you did. “Did you know that he killed them?”

“No.” She breathes, rolling the glass between her hands for a moment. “The night they died, I got a vision a few minutes before the car ran off the road. I was the one who called the police and who told them where to look, but I never saw that it was Darren or that it was anyone causing the accident. All I saw was the three of you in the car. I should have known.” Her voice breaks.

“It’s not your fault.” You squeeze her hand.

“And it’s not yours either.” She squeezes your hand back.

The memories are beginning to float up from the recesses of your mind and your teeth clench together as you try to keep them at bay.

“I know.” You breathe. The memory of the ruined shop flashes through your head. “I didn’t know that I could do something like that.” You gently touch your healed right arm and glance at the creature that is nibbling on the edge of the cardboard box with its sharp splinter-like teeth. “I feel so different and I don’t know how to go back to the way I was.”

“I don’t think you ever will.”

"Really?"

The thought was unwelcome. You were hoping that all of this was going to blow over, but you knew it wouldn't. Your powers had changed. There was an energy that thrummed in your veins now, stretching out of the house to the plants that grew in the garden. You could feel them all if you concentrated.

She frowns. “When you told me that you were working for Butcher I was worried about you getting involved in the supe world. I didn’t want that life for you, didn’t want you to suffer the way I did-��

“Was it really that bad?"

“Not all the time, just at the end. But I think that’s why I loved your grandfather so much. Because he was different than all the supes. He was down to earth, not just normal but-“ She shrugs. “I think Compound V does something to our minds, makes them more susceptible and when you’re surrounded by people using their powers and thinking that they’re gods it’s easy to lose who you are. I was glad I left when I did."

“Great." You huff, thinking about how your powers had grown exponentially since you killed your brother. It was scaring you to think that you would reach a point where you acted like Homelander, where you saw yourself as a god and killed anyone who stood in your way.

As tired as the stereotype of you only being able to make the flowers grow, you liked doing that. You liked healing plants, tending to them, and helping them grow. For you it had never been about using your powers the way that you had to kill Elijah and your brother and had always been about spreading a little more joy and love like your grandmother did with her kindness in her community.

Your mind flashes back to the first night that Ben stayed with you in your apartment and he'd asked you why you worked for Butcher and told you that he thought you "didn't fit."

Before you hadn't. You knew that. You weren't intimidating to look at or fueled by revenge or had a bone to pick with supes. You'd joined because you thought it was the right thing to do and because you wanted to be closer with Annie. She had been so involved in the supe world and you'd felt like you were losing your best friend. When in reality being at "Please Don't Die" was the only thing that felt natural for you.

You could feel yourself changing and you weren't sure that you wanted to and you weren't sure if you were changing for the better. Deep down you still felt like you, despite everything Darren had revealed, but your powers were greater than you'd thought they could be.

“No.” She squeezes your hand pulling you out of your head. “I don’t see you losing yourself in this.”

“You’ve seen-“ Your eyes widen.

“The future yeah.” Her lips twitch up at the ends in a smile. “It is what I do.”

“That’s so weird.”

You hadn't meant to say it, but you really didn't want to know too much about your future.

Well, not all that much. Maybe just a little.

“You of all people have no right to judge what’s weird. Not with Godzilla sitting in your lap.”

"Godzilla" yawns, flashing a mouthful of his pointy teeth, before settling back down on your thighs.

You smile for the first time in twenty hours, but then it drops. “I don’t like losing control. I thought I knew who I was but now I don’t-“ The emotions were bubbling up again, chest tightening, and lungs beginning to gasp for air. “I don’t know who I am anymore or what I am or what I can do and-“

“There’s nothing wrong with not being in control.”

“But what if I hurt someone? What if I kill-“ You body shakes as you think about all the important people in your life, Annie, Hughie, Butcher, Kimiko, MM, Frenchie- and then your mind stutters on Ben.

“Your powers are growing and there’s nothing to be afraid of or ashamed of. If you’re afraid of them it won’t get easier for you. You have to embrace the fear to see the lights that line the path through it.”

"I killed Darren, I killed Elijah-"

"Not because you lost control. You did it because you were protecting yourself and protecting your friends."

"But-"

"Who is it that you're scared of hurting? Annie?" Her expression turns sympathetic. "Annie is a supe and understands what it's like to lose control. None of us are in control all the time and it's ridiculous to believe that you won't lose control at least once."

Your throat clenches tightly, because when she asked the question you didn't see Annie's face, you saw Ben's. You knew that it was probably ridiculous to worry about hurting a guy with a nuclear reactor stuffed in his chest or a guy who'd been through every torture known to man, but you were. And you weren't entirely sure if you meant hurting him with just your powers.

Tears crest and fall down your cheeks as you sit there, throat thickening. "I don't want to hurt Ben."

"He's a little more indestructible than us sweetie." She cracks a smile, but you can't smile back and you don't answer because you're unsure how to.

She sits back against the breakfast nook and sighs, examining your face and slowly realizes what you mean. "Ben is complicated. He always has been. I like to think that most of it, is his father's fault. Has he told you anything about him?"

You shake your head.

"He was a dick. Made Ben think that he was a disappointment his whole life. I don't think that Ben has had someone love him unconditionally since his mother died. And loving Countess only made it worse for him. Her love was jealous, possessive, and I don't think that he's really come to terms with what real love should look like." She lets out a breath, tapping her index finger against the glass. "I never saw him as more than a friend, but I do love him. It's not a crime to love him."

"I don't love him." You say it immediately.

"Why not?"

"What?" You sputter. "I don't know what you're-"

"Tell me why you don't love him." Your grandma says methodically, as if she's trying to talk you through it.

"Because I-" The pressure was back in the back of your throat and you couldn't quite meet her eye. "Because-" You scramble for the answer, trying your darndest to keep your heart from clenching in your chest. "I want what you and grandpa had, what Annie and Hughie have, and what my parents had. A strong relationship with someone who sees all my flaws, the little parts, and the darkness and still choses to fall in love with me anyway. I don't want just one night I want every night. I want something real and Ben has said countless times that he-"

"So you've talked about it with Ben?" She raises an eyebrow.

"Only because he kept trying to sleep with me and I told him that I didn't want to have sex with him." You reply exasperated.

"You don't?"

"Gran!"

"What? He's attractive."

"It doesn't matter. None of it does. Because Ben has said that he doesn't have relationships, that he doesn't care about feelings, or emotions." Saying the words that Ben had told you countless times made something inside begin to shrivel up and die. "And I do. And I don't want to manipulate him into being something he's not or force him into a relationship that's doomed from the beginning. Ben is Ben. He's not changing or-"

"He has." She interrupts.

"What?"

"The Ben I saw in your hospital room is not the one I knew." She says it so matter of fact that makes it hard to breathe. "And neither was the one that I saw in your apartment when I stayed with you. I mean he is in essence Ben, but-"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"He is changing. Not completely, but he's acting differently than when he was with Countess. I mean, I saw all the things he did for her. The way he was around her."

"Why does that matter?"

"Because he loved her."

The words make your heart seize in your chest. "Ben doesn't love me. He's my roommate and my friend-" It was the same thing that you kept telling yourself on repeat to beat back the other feelings that you hadn't quite identified yet. "And he's told me that he doesn't want a relationship and that I should try to meet other people."

That last part was a lie, but you honestly didn't know where she was going with this conversation or why it was getting so hard to breathe.

"Have you thought that maybe Ben doesn't want to love you because he's scared?"

"He doesn't love me and Ben isn't afraid of anything."

"He is. It might not look the same way on him as it does on everyone else, but if you pay close enough attention you can catch it." She hesitates. "And I think if you pay attention to you, you'll see what it is that you're afraid of too."

What does she mean? What the hell am I afraid of? Ben isn't afraid of anything, he's practically shouted that from the mountaintops like Julie Andrews.

"I already told you what I'm afraid of."

"I'm not talking about you hurting someone honey. There's something else that you refuse to admit to yourself because you're scared." She smiles sadly at you. "You should though, because when you embrace it, what comes after is really beautiful." There's a far off look in her eyes and you realize that she'd seen something further ahead that she wasn't letting on.

"And it's all I want for you. To be happy." Your grandmother stands from the other side of the booth "I think you need some rest. You drove all night long and I doubt you got any sleep. And I have to package all of these before Annie's mother calls down the four horsemen of the Apocalypse on me."

"Wait-"

"Please sweetie." She lays her hand down on your arm. "I think you'll feel a little better about all of this when you've had some rest." Her fingers raise to push back some of the hair that's fallen forward into your eyes. "Hmm?"

You didn't want to rest, you wanted to talk about this, but you knew better than to argue with her. Not to mention she was right, you hadn't slept.

"And when you wake up I'll make your favorite for dinner, alright?" She smiles, but there's something behind it that you can't place.

"Okay."

And this time you don't argue with her. You go up the worn staircase that you have your entire life and collapse onto your bed, wondering exactly what it was she saw your future hold, and what it is that you won't admit to yourself.

Soldier Boy POV

There was no light in the apartment save from the burning red tip of Ben's blunt and the bluish glow emanating from the tv that caught the dips and sharp edges of his face. But it was nothing more than background noise.

His hand absentmindedly stroked along Bean's back, his eyes focused on the ceiling above the couch. He hadn't moved in hours. It had been over twenty four hours since everything that happened at the plant shop, since you'd summoned a creature from the depths of the store, since Darren had thrown Ben through the plate glass windows of the bakery, and since Ben had last seen you.

He didn't understand why you hadn't let him take you back to the apartment and why it was that you had to leave. Ben hadn't liked the feeling that stabbed him in the chest when you turned your back on him and ran away. He'd felt the urge to comfort you the way he'd watched Hughie do for Annie in the car a week ago, but you hadn't let him.

Instead all he'd done is stood there and watched you run, still covered in dust, rubble, and blood. Worse was you hadn't let him check you for injuries and Ben hated the thought that you were hurt somewhere and he didn't know where you were.

You were so much more fragile than he was. He was realizing that more every day, was acutely aware of it after everything that happened with Elijah. Honestly, sitting there in the hospital with you laying there asleep with nothing that he could do, but wait for you to wake up had been agony. Not to mention that looking at the bruises around your throat, over your eye, and the bright green cast only made him feel worse. He'd never felt so helpless in his entire life and he hated it. Because Ben wasn't some helpless damsel in distress, he was a man and a man shouldn't wait on anyone or feel out of control, or at least, that's what he told himself.

Ben hears someone walk down the hallway outside the apartment and he perks up to listen, hoping that it's you finally coming home. Ben's mind stutters on the word "home." He'd lived many places in his life, apartments that felt more like way-stations, and the drafty cold mansion back in Philadelphia where he grew up, but neither felt like home. And although he hated how small your apartment was, it was the first place that Ben liked living in. He was starting to understand the word home.

But the feet keep moving past the apartment and Ben sinks into the couch cushions. Even Bean seems to be disappointed. "It's alright buddy." Ben mutters. "She'll come back."

But he wasn't sure.

Ben also wasn't used to feeling this way. It was close to the way that he felt when he went to Boston and was sitting in that damn hotel room waiting for something to happen and he still didn't understand what it meant. He didn't understand why he couldn't stand it that you weren't back yet. It made him feel like a woman waiting for her husband to get home from work when he told her that he was "running late." He'd tried to distract himself by looking at some possible prospects on Tinder, but just like the week after you'd come home from the hospital and just like the date he had in Boston, no one held any appeal.

His mind was awake and roaming around, pacing back and forth. The blunt was supposed to help, but it hadn't.

His phone chirps and Ben picks it up to look at the screen, but it's not you, it's Jake.

Jake: I know that I'm not your favorite person, but thank you for what you did.

Ben huffs and turns his phone face down on the couch once more. "What a fucking pussy."

When you left Ben had realized that Jake was still inside the building and as much as he wanted race after you, he understood that you'd be even more upset if you'd killed Jake. So Ben had tromped back through the building and found him trapped beneath some rubble. Jake was okay, just unconscious, but Ben had carried him out and put him on the sidewalk before he high tailed it out of there. The last thing that he wanted was to be caught with a shredded body outside a ruined building.

I didn't do it for him. I did it for her. Ben thinks to himself, looking down at the text message.

As much as he hated the thought of saving your future boyfriend, he didn't want to see what it did to you if you found out that you killed Jake, so he'd done it to avoid watching you cry again.

Ben didn't understand why he hated watching you cry.

Women cry. They're damn emotional all the time. He tries to reason with himself taking a puff from the blunt pinched between his thumb and forefinger. And she fucking cries way too much.

The image of you crying outside of the shop in the wake of everything that happened pricks something under his ribcage. Fuck.

Ben didn't feel remorse for what happened, well, the only thing he regretted was not getting there sooner and getting to fuck Darren up himself. When Diana had called him to tell him that Darren was coming, Ben had practically ripped the apartment door off in his haste to get back to you. He hadn’t wanted to leave you at the plant shop, but Butcher had told Ben, that he had a possible location for Darren, but it came up empty and Ben had been at Butcher's apartment chewing him out for sending him on a fucking wild goose chase.

It only made Ben more angry to allow Darren to speak to you, but he was trying to let you handle it even though he wanted to handle him. But it had brought him an unholy amount of joy to throw Darren in front of that minivan and to watch that creature tear him apart while the final whitish blue pulses of electricity jumped and crackled down the street making the streetlights shower sparks everywhere.

But Ben was more upset that Darren had been able to land a few hits on you before you killed him.

Ben remembered the giant lizard that crawled out of what was left of "Please Don't Die" and felt his lips quirk up into a smile. As much as he hated the entire situation, Ben couldn't help but feel a little surge of pride at what you'd done to your brother. He'd never seen you look so powerful standing there in the street, your eyes glowing a brilliant green, arms outstretched, and the ground trembling around you as the world begged to be unleashed.

Of course he'd been just as surprised as you were at the fact that you'd healed your broken arm. He wasn't sure if you'd noticed it yet, but you looked different too. There weren't as many lines on your face and your hair was more springy, the few silver hairs that Ben had noticed in passing were no longer there.

He wasn't sure what that meant, but there was something that felt suspiciously like hope tingling in his stomach, hope that you weren't as fragile anymore and hope that it meant you wouldn't die.

When Diana had told Ben that her husband had died, he saw the pain in her eyes when she said it, saw her relieving the memory, and for some reason as soon as she said that he was dead, the first thing Ben thought about was you. Ben hadn't considered his inability to age as much in the past, hadn't cared about outliving anyone before. Seeing Countess as an older woman had made him more aware of it. Looking at the woman who he once thought he loved, had showed him what that was like. Not that he had a problem with daring older women, Ben always thought that women really did get better with age, but it was what came next that Ben wasn't fond of.

And for some reason thinking that one day he'd wake up and see the marks of age on your face or one day he'd wake up and he wouldn't be able to annoy you or hear you yell at him made his chest tight.

Ben takes another hit of his blunt. The longer he sat there the more then unnatural feeling stirred in the pit of his stomach, thrumming through his veins, the feeling that he was trying to avoid. He thought that the joint would calm him down, but he found himself jumping at every creak and footstep in the apartment building, perking up each time and hoping that it was you coming home.

He didn't know where you were. You hadn't answered any of his texts or calls and Ben was ashamed at how many times that he had tried to call you.

Get a fucking grip. He'd thought to himself when he typed out another text message to send you, stopping himself from sending it.

But he'd been so desperate to hear from you that he'd actually gone to talk to Annie who seemed upset that she couldn't get ahold of you either. When Hughie and Annie had seen how upset Ben had been, Hughie had laid his hand on Ben's arm and told him not to worry. Ben had yelled at him that he "wasn't fucking worried and to mind his own business" and had shaken off Hughie's comforting hand before stomping out of the shared apartment.

No one else seemed to be as concerned about finding you. Butcher, MM, and Frenchie were all deeply involved in trying to figure out the cover-up for what happened outside the plant shop. By some miracle no one had caught a picture of your face, but there was little they could do about Darren's body that had been strewn across the street. Annie was having to deal with the repercussions at work, trying to handle what the news was calling a "super villain threat."

Personally, Ben thought that since they froze Homelander, the Seven looked weak and Ben believed that the superhero team that represented America shouldn't look weak. Of course before Ben had also thought that they looked like a bunch of pussies and again felt himself sink deeper into the couch when he thought about what his supposed son had become.

He shakes off the feelings he has about it and his thoughts turn back inevitably to you.

Ben wasn't used to thinking about someone as much as he thought of you, but each time he settled back into the apartment and you weren't there he was hyperaware of how quiet it was.

Maybe I should call Diana. She might know where she is.

As soon as Ben thinks that, his phone begins to ring, but Ben doesn't bother to look at who it is before he answers it.

"Hello?" Ben huffs out a breath of smoke that hangs in the air in front of his face, catching in the bluish light coming from the television.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The voice on the other side of the line yells at him.

"Di?"

"Yes it's me. Who did you think it was? Santa Clause?" Your grandmother snarks.

"Why are you calling me and why the fuck are you so mad? What did I do?" Ben answers slightly annoyed.

As much as you got under his skin, your grandmother had been the same way. He actually thought that it was amusing that even before he figured out that she was your grandmother that he had often compared you to her in his mind. You had the same mannerisms, the same defiant and stubborn attitude that drove Ben up the wall, and you were just as beautiful as she was.

Ben was okay with admitting that he was attracted to you. To him that felt normal, it was the other feelings that he was conflicted about, the ones that he'd never felt before stirring in his chest that made him feel "too emotional" and "woman-like."

Truthfully, Ben was sure that if your grandmother had given him a shot that maybe he would have felt that way about her too. She was the only person that Ben actually trusted in the 80's, the only person that was brave enough to call him out on all his shit. You did that now. But he liked her husband also, so Ben was content with letting her go. He liked how happy that Henry, your grandfather, had made her. He knew that she wasn't happy as a supe and seeing her so happy and in love made Ben feel something that was close to happiness.

And it was seeing the way the two of them were together made Ben wonder if what he had with Countess was the same thing. Because he did have feelings about her that were different, but each time he went to visit Diana and saw your father playing on her lap he felt that there was something missing in his life.

It was the same way that he thought something was missing when you weren't in the apartment, but Ben hadn't realized that yet.

"Because I don't understand what the hell you're doing!" Diana replies and Ben honestly doesn't know why she's angry with him.

"About what?"

"My granddaughter."

Ben sits up the blunt in his fingertips forgotten. "Is she there with you?"

"Yes." Her voice softens for a moment.

Ben relaxes and leans back onto the couch, sighing in relief. "Good. That's good." Relief swelled in his chest when he thought about you staying with her, safe.

That's what she meant when she said that she wanted to go home. Home is with her grandmother. Ben stopped the next thought before he could go there.

The thought that home wasn't with him.

Ben was trying not to think about that or think about you hating him. He didn't think you did, well, didn't think you did anymore. At first it really was touch and go, but now he was almost eighty percent sure after you'd told him more than once that you weren't afraid of him and didn’t hate him that you sometimes wanted him around.

"No, not good."

"What do you mean? Is she okay?" Ben's grip on the phone tightens so hard that he's sure that he hears the screen cracking.

"No."

"What happened?" Ben's voice is a growl, the feelings of relief evaporating as soon as they had begun to bloom in his chest. He mentally calculated how long it would take him to get to you.

"Her entire life fucking fell apart and where are you? Not here!"

Oh. Ben relaxed a little bit.

"I don't need to be there." He says on an exhale of smoke.

"Yes you do!" Diana presses.

"No, I don't. She a big girl she doesn't need me there, she's-" Ben takes a puff from the joint.

“If you were any denser you’d be a Bundt cake Benjamin!” She says exasperated.

"What the fuck are you talking about doll? I am not-"

“Let me guess." She interrupts and Ben can imagine her tapping her foot. He hated when she did that. "You’re moping around smoking a blunt on the couch probably with a glass of something that you're hoping to numb whatever the hell it is you're feeling."

Ben's eyes shift to the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table that he hadn't touched in a few minutes.

“I’m not fucking moping and stop spying on me!” He snaps back at Diana.

He hated how well she knew him. She was his best friend in the 80's through all the shit, she had seen him at his worst and at his best too many times to count.

“I don’t have to use my powers to know what you’re doing. I know you Ben.”

"Sorry to disappoint you sweetheart.” Ben grits his teeth, temper flaring hot. “But if you know me as well as you fucking say you do then you then you know that this is-“

“You avoiding your feelings by acting aloof and brooding like a fucked up version of Mr. Darcy.” She interrupts.

She certainly hasn't changed.

“I am not avoiding-“

“She needs you here Ben.” Diana stamps her foot, the same way you do when Ben pisses you off, and Ben can hear it.

“She doesn’t need me! She said that she wanted to go home, that she didn’t want to be here with me! I tried to-“ Ben shouts back standing up. It was the exact thing that he'd been thinking for the past twenty four hours, that you didn’t need him and that you didn't want to be any where near him.

That last thought made an uncomfortable sensation prickle in his gut when he thought it, because all it did was remind him of how you acted when the two of you first met, when you didn't want him to live with you and tried your darndest to make him go away.

He didn’t want to and he wasn't sure why that was.

“Try harder.” Diana interrupts him again and frankly it was pissing him off.

Ben clenches his jaw. “I think that you’ve confused me with someone else baby.”

“Don’t you 'baby' me Benjamin! We both know that you’re doing what you always do when things get hard for you.”

“And what’s that?”

“You pretend not to care and shut out everyone who tries to care for you. Not to mention you drown yourself in drugs, booze, and women.”

“She doesn’t care about me!” He spits.

“She does!” Diana snaps back. “And believe it or not she needs you here and she wants you here.”

"But-"

"Ben please." It was the first time that he'd heard Diana sound softer and almost pleading since the conversation started. "Don't do this to her. She's worth more than Countess and all those other women you've fallen into bed with."

"Do you really think I don't know that?" He roars. The answer surprises himself. "Do you think I don't know that she's different?"

Wait what?

"If you know that, then why aren't you here?"

He hesitates.

Everything you said to him the night of the party comes roaring back. You looking beautiful in a dress that made his throat tight, and you telling him that you just wanted to be friends and that you understood that he wasn't the type of guy to have relationships. He didn't understand why it stung a bit when you said that, but it had.

Ben thinks about the week that the two of you spent together after Diana went home, when he tried his best to take care of you, distract you from everything that happened with his movies, and would sit with you and try to make you laugh. He'd never wanted to take care of someone before.

Not to mention he kind of liked the way you laughed. He wouldn’t admit that to anyone, but each time you did, it made him want to laugh too. That had never happened to him before. But he wanted to make you laugh to forget everything that happened with Elijah. His fist clenches when he thinks of exactly what Elijah tried to do to you and it makes him feel so mad that he feels close to spontaneously combusting. Ben might not be the best role model when it came to women, but he couldn’t imagine the type of man who would force himself on someone else.

It had made him angry when he thought that you were suggesting that he would try something when he first moved in, because he wasn't that type of man.

Ben was trying to be better for you. He wasn't admitting that, but he really was trying to be better. He didn't understand why. You'd told him countless times that you didn’t want to be with him, that you wanted to be with someone else like Jake.

Ben frowns when he thinks about the man he'd pulled from the rubble of the shop. And again thinks to himself that you should be with someone different, someone who was a supe and could understand you. Ben had seen how difficult it was for Diana when she was keeping her supe life a secret from your grandfather and he didn't want you to have to do that with someone.

"Because I'm not-" Ben begins to say, but he holds his tongue. It was too honest, too raw, too unlike him to admit this to anyone.

Because I'm not this guy. Because I'm not the one she wants. Because I'm not some knight on a white horse. Because she's everything right with the world and I'm just a fucking asshole who sleeps on her couch.

"Ben." Diana breathes and he can practically hear her pinching the bridge of her nose. "In all the years I've known you, you've never done what you did for her with anyone else. You carried her out of that warehouse, you stayed with her in the hospital even after she woke up, you took care of her when she came home, you protected her from Darren. You can't ignore all those things."

"I'm not ignoring them. She's my friend." The word sours in his mouth as he says it. "And she would have done the same thing for me." He knew it was true.

She's a good person and she wouldn't let me chase her away if any of that shit happened to me and I told her to leave me alone.

"Yes she would. Because she cares about you." Diana sighs.

"She doesn't."

"Why don't you believe me?"

"Because she's told me what she wants!" Ben shouts so loudly he can feel the room shaking. "She wants to be friends-“

"Because she doesn't think that you want a relationship you nitwit!"

"I don't." Ben spits the words before he can stop them, but as he does something tightens at the base of his throat.

"How is it that it's been forty fucking years and you're still able to dance on the grave of my last nerve?"

Ben chuckles. "I missed you too sweetheart."

She sighs into the phone again making it crackle in Ben's ear. "She needs you.” Diana repeats. “And I think you need her too.”

His temper was flaring again, the thoughts that his father pressed into him surging up before he can stop the words. “I don’t need anyone. I’m Sol-“

“If you say that you’re Soldier Boy, I’m going to reach through this phone and slap you silly.” She snaps. “And you do need her, but you’re still just too stubborn to admit it.”

“I-“

“Ben I know that everything that happened with Countess was fucked up, but my granddaughter she-“ Diana pauses before she changes the thought. “You say that you know she’s different, but right now you’re treating her the same way you treat all those other women.”

“I’m not-“

“My granddaughter has decided you’re important to her and once that’s happened it’s hard to make her let go. You saw the way she was with Darren and that guy was a manipulative asshole. Imagine what she thinks of you.”

“I-“

“Stop making excuses!”

“You didn’t even hear what I was going to say!” Ben shouts.

“And I don’t need to! Think what you want Ben but if you’d stop acting so stubborn and so ridiculously blind to what’s right in front of you. I promise that what comes next is worth the risk.”

“Don’t go all fucking mystical on me doll.”

“And don’t go all macho- no feelings asshole on me! So stop being so damn stubborn, get on a plane and get your ass here.” She retorts. “Don’t fuck this up Benjamin because if you do I’ll fuck you up.”

The line goes dead.

Ben sat there for a minute in the silence still holding the phone up to his ear, listening to what your grandmother said to him ring around in his head for a second.

No one ever spoke to him that way. In fact, Ben had never allowed anyone to speak to him the way that she did, well, not until you came along. You reminded him so much of her that it was astounding and he wasn't going to admit that maybe it's why he liked being around you so much.

Ben frowns at what Diana said, thinking about the unusual feelings that were swirling in the pit of his stomach. He felt wrong and the feelings were odd for him. He hadn't felt anything remotely like this ever in his life, not even for Countess.

And although Ben refused to be afraid of anything, the feelings he was having scared him. He didn’t understand and he wasn't sure that he wanted to. He wasn't sure that he wanted to see where this ended up. He felt like he was in too deep.

As much as he wanted to go to you like Diana ordered him to, he wasn't sure that he should. Something was holding him back, digging it's heels in and refusing to budge.

But why do I feel like-

His phone rings and he doesn't look at the caller ID when he picks up, expecting it to be Diana again, yelling at him.

"Di I-"

But it's not Diana.

"Hello Ben. It's nice to hear your voice again." The familiar voice says, sounding calm and collected.

"What the fuck do you want?" Ben snarls.

"I thought it was time the two of us had a chat.”

A/N: At this point Diana is really just trying to give both Ben and the reader the kick in the pants they need. And yes I know another cliffhanger, but you know you love it. 🤭😉 We are quickly reaching the end of this series, but that means the confession scene is coming and I am so excited about it!!

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know. 😊

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @ej13928 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @modiddys-blog

@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies @fireskyy

@n-o-p-e-never @nesnejwritings @am0rem @tpwkcalli @momggn

@fitxgrld @whimsicalcherry @ladysparkles78

@spxideyver @zepskies @impala67stellawinchester

@reidtomewinchester @samanthadegaro @glossy01 @nikimisery

@tunnelvisionlove @incandxscents @winchester-stark @samahanta

@melonmochi

@kamisobsessed @whichwitchwanda @karolina-12110905 @jcollins03-blog

@pixviee @filmologetica @yvonneeeee @c1nnamong1rl29 @kmc1989

@livya99 @cherrygirl444

#jensen ackles #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy fanfic #soldier boy fic #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys series #the boys fanfiction #the boys fanfic #the boys

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fyoxi · 1 day ago

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୨ৎ 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓬𝔂 𝓸𝓯 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓸𝓭 . . . ft. boothill

boothill x f! reader. established relationship (but still new). nonsexual intimacy. petnames.

boothill visits you a lot, knocking on the door to your apartment at least two or three times a week. sometimes he stays a few hours, sometimes he stays the night. it just depends really. but he always comes. and he always comes with a gift, a little stuffed animal, or a single flower he picked on his walk to your place. but it's always something. he made you smile, and that's all he wanted.

he had come to your apartment later in the evening this time. not being able to make it until well after sundown. he was honestly surprised when you opened the door for him, he had expected you to be in bed by now. but your door opened, and there you were, standing in the doorway, the light from the entryway behind you made you look like some kind of angel to him.

"well, hello there, pretty girl," he said. he couldn't help the silly grin across his face. "i got this for you" he held out a single premature dandelion.

"thank you," you smiled back at him, taking the bright yellow flower from his hand, and stepping to the side to let him in.

once the door closed behind him, and he hung his hat on the coat rack on the wall. he reached out to you, fingers curling around your hips to pull your body to him. "i missed you" he mumbled into your hair, before resting his chin on the top of your head.

"i missed you too��" your response was cut short by an absolutely awful smell. you took a breath in through your nose, trying to locate where the smell was coming from. "oh, goodness boothill ! when was the last time you washed your hair ?!"

boothill looked down at you, his brow raised, he seemed confused. "i dunno" he shrugged, "how often am i supposed to ?"

"more than you have been, clearly !" you exclaimed

"is it really that bad ?" boothill asked. he seemed genuinely confused. like he didn't smell the near nauseating scent coming off his hair.

you nodded your head, "come here" you said with a little sigh, walking into the kitchen, dragging a chair from the dining room table up to the sink. "take your jacket off and sit down here" you said, it came out more like an order than you intended it to. but boothill didn't seem to mind, he kicked his boots off, leaving them by the front door, he knew you didn't like outside shoes on your carpet, and shrugged his jacket off, hanging it up on the coat rack with his hat.

he followed you into your kitchen, sitting himself down on the dining chair you brought over to the sink. he watched from the spot as you put the flower he got you between the pages of a heavy cookbook, pressing it down like you did all the flowers he got you. you left the room for a second, and returned with a towel over your arm, and a bottle of shampoo and conditioner in your hands.

"what's that for ?" he asked, nodding to the toiletries in your hand

"you" you answered, setting them down next to the sink, "i'm gonna wash your hair"

boothill's brow raised, just for a second before he shrugged his shoulders "alright" he said "just be careful with it, took a lot of work to grow all this out. and don't get any soap in my eyes"

"i'll do my best" you reassured him with a little chuckle, wrapping the towel around his shoulders, securing it with a hair tie.

boothill watched your hands as you tied the towel in place, it was made of a fuzzy cotton material, warm and soft against the back of his neck. "so, what do you want me to do ?" he asked

"just lean back, relax. i got it" you tilted his head back, he had to slouch in the chair quite a bit for his head to be where you needed it, but it wasn't too uncomfortable. it wasn't like his body could get sore.

you gathered all of his hair, and pulled it over the edge of the kitchen sink, the black and white strands pooling against the stainless steel. you turned the water on, waiting for it to get to a comfortable warmth before using the attachment next to the faucet to spray his hair.

using your free hand to undo any tangles, you made sure every strand of his head was thoroughly soaked before setting the attachment back in its place, and reaching for the shampoo. "the only shampoo i have here is mine" you said, squeezing a generous amount directly onto his scalp "so you're gonna smell like me"

"that's okay," boothill hummed, "you smell good" his eyes were closed, his shoulders were back, his breath slow and heavy, a subtle smile etched on his lips.

you nodded, smiling down at him. "alright" you said softly. you used both hands to rub the soap into his hair, pads of your fingers gently massaging it into his scalp, making careful work to coat every inch of it in the sweet smelling suds. boothill's head twitched, a little laugh escaping him as you moved to scrub behind his ears. you pulled your hands away, "are you okay ?" you asked

boothill nodded "perfect, darlin'," he answered "just tickled"

you nodded again, going back to your work. boothill's mouth was shut tightly, pressing his lips together hard to keep from laughing as your fingers scrubbed behind his ears.

once his scalp was fully coated and scrubbed, you ran your fingers down the length of his hair, coating it too with the soap, until the entirety of his hair was covered in a thick lather. "i'm gonna rinse it out now," you told him, receiving only a tiny, slow nod in response.

you put your hand on his forehead, holding it up like a mini wall to keep the soapy water from his eyes as you used the sink's spray attachment once again to rinse the soap out of his hair. you were extra attentive, making sure you got every last bit of the soap out of his hair, as leaving any behind would make this whole process pointless.

boothill was completely sill, his face and body were relaxed, legs spread, his feet flat on the ground. he wasn't bouncing his leg, or tapping his fingers on his thigh. which is usually what he'd be doing anytime he had to sit still for anything.

when the soap was rinsed from his hair, you grabbed the bottle of conditioner, and squeezed about a quarter sized amount on your palm, and ran it through the ends of his hair, careful not to get any on his scalp. "it has to sit for a little bit" you said, rinsing any of the left over residue from your hands.

there was no response, not even a hum or a nod, from boothill. "boots ?" you asked. there was still nothing. you looked over his face, there was no sign that he had heard you at all, not even in the tiniest twitch in his face. now that the water was off, and you weren't so focused on his hair, you could hear the quiet snores coming from him. "oh" you whispered, realizing only now that at some point during the process of washing his hair, he had been lulled to sleep.

you leaned down, brushing your lips ever so gently on his forehead, leaving a feather light kiss on his skin. the rancid smell he'd come into your apartment with now replaced with a sweet floral scent, mixed with subtle hints of vanilla and fresh cotton. you spoke in a hushed whisper, cautious to not wake up, saying out loud for the first time; "i love you, boothill"

#ꨄ︎ . . . literature #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #boothill #boothill hsr #boothill x reader #boothill hsr x reader

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cheoliedollie · 3 days ago

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uni crush! scoups: texts and...♡

genre: scoups is crushing on reader hihihi | reader isn't oblivious and is also a gym rat | reader is small compared to cheol

note by marie: trying to do something different ♡ hope you guys like it!

~☆ Seungcheol was at the entrance to your building. You opened the door and were greeted by the man's loving gaze and gentle smile. You knew very well that the next few minutes would change your life.

You didn't talk much for the first few minutes, just enjoying the cool evening breeze and the noises of the city. Seungcheol noticed your arms shivering from the night chill and quickly took off his jacket and offered it to you.

“Did I scare you?”

“What?”

“You know… my sudden jealousy and calling you out for a night walk.”

You sighed, snuggling even closer to the warmth and delicious smell offered by Seungcheol's jacket.

“No, not at all… I have feelings for you too, so it's not uncomfortable for me.”

Seungcheol stopped walking, making you look back and see his surprised face. You walked up to him, a few steps to get close enough to look him in the eye, even if it was a little difficult because of the height difference.

“What did you say?”

Seungcheol whispered as he said the words.

“I like you too”

A smile took over Seungcheol's face, and the dimples that went with it made the scene even more beautiful.

Seungcheol held your face with both hands, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Can I kiss you?”

Just a nod was enough.

Your lips were captured by his, as if you were the air he needed to survive. And indeed, even for a short time in his life, you were already of enormous importance and a person that Seungcheol needed to be around every day.

It was a slow, quiet kiss, just to seal the beginning of a story between the two of you.

With chaste kisses left on your lips and hands running to your waist for a tight embrace, Seungcheol asked the question you wanted to hear and would gladly answer.

“Will you date me?”

Another kiss, another smile and another hug. A huge “yes” came from your lips.

This was the first walk of many that you would take together.

#cheoliedollie #seventeen imagines #seventeen texts #svt x reader #seungcheol imagines #scoups imagines

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zigrethsnotebook · 2 days ago

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[SHOULDER KISS]

Ford x Reader

words: 2,846

tags: sfw, toothrotting fluff, non-sexual nudity

a/n: this is so devastatingly self-indulgent,, pls don't judge me. But also, this is for all of you who said there aren't enough Ford fics out there <3

Winter. Snow was falling, but it wasn’t soft. The winds were strong and managed to blow snow in your face no matter which way you turned or how much you covered it up. This was supposed to be a short and simple hike through the woods with Ford. When you had left the house this morning it had been just that, with snow falling softly and all. But now the weather had turned like it held a grudge against you two personally.

The twins had decided to have a little break on their sea adventure for the holidays and while Stan decided to visit the kids and Shermie, Ford had decided to come home to you. Even Soos and his Abuelita had left to spend this time of the year with Melody and her family, meaning you and Ford had the Shack all to yourselves. It also meant that there was nobody home to make sure the Shack stayed warm while you two were out.

Finally, you had made it back to the Shack, and when Ford opened the door you quickly got inside, spreading snow across the floor. You shivered as you took off your snow-laden coat and shoes, the cold having seeped inside your very bones.

Ford wasn’t much better off - his nose and cheeks burned a bright red and his eyebrows and eyelashes had little white crystals hanging off of them. He was a human furnace of a man, but even he was shivering now, rubbing his hands along his arms to generate a little warmth.

“We need to warm up as quickly as possible, I don’t want to risk either of us getting hypothermia. You should go and take a hot bath while I’ll put more wood in the furnace so the house can warm back up. I’ll take a bath after you’re done.”

You shook your head. “Sorry, won’t work. While you were gone we had some problems with the hot water. Now there’s only enough hot water for one hot bath or shower at a time.”

“Oh.” Ford’s eyes darted around the room for a moment, trying to find a solution. “Then I guess I’ll just get some extra blankets and try to warm up like that.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Or you could just take the bath with me. That way we won’t risk either of us getting sick?”

You said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, Ford on the other hand could feel the heat rising to his face even more now, his turtleneck suddenly feeling a little tight around his neck. It wasn’t a secret that Ford was… uncomfortable when it came to nudity.

During your few months of relationship with the man the furthest you had gotten was one very fun make-out session where, in the heat of the moment, Ford had pulled your shirt over your head and immediately turned bright red at the sight of you. You had pulled him back in with a smile but when you tried to pull his turtleneck off of him as well he had pulled away, ending the moment abruptly.

You had tried to talk to him about it afterwards and he had confessed that he felt incredibly self-conscious about his own body after all the things Bill and his time hopping dimensions had done to it. After lots of kind words and soft kisses he had hugged you and shown you the scars around his wrists from the chains Bill had kept him in.

But none of that mattered now and you hoped he knew you wouldn’t think worse of him for any of it. You just wanted to make sure he wouldn’t get sick. “No. You go.” You could tell he was trying to sound determined, but his own shivering wouldn’t quite let him.

You shook your head. “You take a bath, I’ll get some blankets.” Ford looked at you with pleading eyes. “I won’t take a bath before you. Either we take one together-” You had to pause as a more intense shiver overcame you. You continued with chattering teeth. “-or I’ll take one after you.”

“But you just said-” The look on your face was unwavering, he couldn’t win this one. With a sigh he agreed. “Okay. You get the bath ready. I’ll take care of the furnace, then I’ll meet you there. Does that sound good?” You nodded and quickly made your way to the bathroom.

Ford felt silly for being afraid of your reaction to his body. He was a normal guy! Apart from the six fingers of course, but you had shown him again and again that you loved that part of him. Why would this be any different? He shook his head, trying to rid himself of all those negative thoughts as he placed another log in the fire.

With every step he now took towards the bathroom he could feel his heart hammering stronger and louder inside his chest. He was about to reach for the doorknob when he stilled in his movement. There was something he hadn’t even considered. He would also get to see you naked.

Ford’s cheeks, after having cooled down a little, now turned tomato red again. No. No, he couldn’t do this. He was just about to turn around when the door in front of him opened. “Ford? Why are you just standing there? Come in.” You gently took his hand that was still hanging outstretched in the air and guided him inside the room.

The bathroom had already begun to heat up a little through the warm water evaporating and filling the air. You quickly closed the door behind him, shivering again as you felt the fresh air entering the room. Ford just stood there, unable to move, just watching you as you moved around the room, getting shampoos and towels ready and finally turning off the water.

You turned to Ford. The crystals on his eyebrows and lashes had melted away, but his face was still flushed and he looked very tense. You moved over to him, gently put your hands on his arms and looked into his eyes. “I’m sorry, Ford. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to. I want you to know that I’m as worried about your health as you are about mine, but if you leave now I won’t judge you for that or think any worse of you.”

One of your hands found his cheek and he instinctively leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath and brought his own hand up to yours, moved it to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to your wrist. “I’ll stay.” You smiled and when he let go of your hand you moved back towards the bathtub, taking your sweatshirt off in one swift movement.

Ford watched your movements with awe. You turned to face him again and he struggled to focus on your eyes. It made you smile - you thought it was adorable how much he wanted to stay a true gentleman, even though you were more than okay with him checking you out properly.

“Suggestion: I get in first. Then, if you’re not comfortable with me seeing you naked I’ll close my eyes while you get in as well. How does that sound to you?” Ford couldn’t help but smile at how considerate you were and also admire you for your self-confidence. “Sounds perfect.”

You nodded and quickly started undressing further, looking forward to the warm water thawing your tense muscles. Ford quickly averted his eyes which earned him a quiet chuckle from you, but you didn’t say anything. When you were done, you carefully stepped inside the tub and sighed as the warm water engulfed your shivering body.

The way it was now the water reached to just above your nipples. But, knowing Ford, you had made sure to create enough foam, so you couldn’t see through the water, leaving just your shoulders and upwards visible. When Ford realized that you had settled into the tub he turned to face you again and you smiled an encouraging smile at him before closing your eyes.

Ford hesitated a moment but eventually found the courage to take off his turtleneck. His heart beat rapidly in his chest but when he pulled it over his head and realized your eyes were still closed he relaxed a little. He felt bad for not trusting you enough to see him shirtless while you trusted him enough to sit naked in front of him with your eyes closed. He took another deep breath to steady himself and took off the rest of his clothes.

After you heard what you assumed to be Ford’s pants dropping to the floor you lifted your arms out of the water and placed them on either side of the tub, inviting him in. You heard two footsteps and then felt the water moving slightly. It took all your concentration to keep your eyes closed, not because you wanted to gawk at him, but rather because you wanted to help him sit down safely without hurting either of you.

You managed though, and soon enough Ford sat between your legs in the bathtub. A deep sigh left Ford’s lips as well, as he felt the warm water around his cold skin. He was careful not to lean too far back, trying desperately to touch you as little as possible. When he was as comfortable as he could get, he spoke up again in a tiny voice. “You can open your eyes now.”

The sight in front of you made your heart flutter. It felt so domestic somehow. His gray hair and strong shoulders in front of you - all you wanted to do was reach out, pull him close and never let go. But you restrained yourself, you had to go at his pace. For a moment you just admired him, studied all the scars and tattoos you hadn’t seen before and committed them to memory.

“Please say something.” Ford’s voice didn’t quite manage to break you out of your trance. “I love you.” As soon as the words left your mouth you froze. You didn’t mean to say that - you had never said this to each other before. “Sorry, I don’t know wh-” “I love you, too.”

You were shocked, to say the least, your heart felt like it was about to jump out of your ribcage. With Ford facing forward you couldn’t look at him, but you could tell from the red of his ears that he was blushing. You bit your bottom lip as you tried to anticipate whether or not your next words would ruin the moment. “Can I touch you?”

His breathing picked up its pace and he nodded. Slowly, you lifted one of your hands from the side of the bathtub and moved it to his shoulder. Ford’s breath hitched when your skin touched his. You let your thumb draw slow, soothing circles on his skin and after a few seconds you heard Ford let out a long breath, relaxing a little.

After a few moments like that you slowly let your hand wander up his shoulder until your fingers came into contact with one of his scars and you could feel Ford tense under your touch. With a feather-like softness you let your fingers trace the scar. “Bill.” Was the only word he managed to get out. “You don’t have to explain yourself.” You assured him and he relaxed under your touch again.

A few more moments passed with your one hand tracing gentle patterns on his shoulder, until Ford raised his other arm out of the water and put it on top of your other arm. He took your hand and slowly moved it forward, pulling you along with it. You didn’t protest as you felt him wrap your arm around himself, holding it against his chest and gently kissing your knuckles.

This gave you the perfect opportunity to gently pull him towards you, encouraging him to lean into your chest, while never stopping the soothing strokes of his shoulder with your other hand. A smile formed on your face when you both had settled into a comfortable position, his back to your chest and your head looking over his shoulder.

You stayed like that for a couple of minutes, neither of you saying a word, just enjoying the moment.

You looked downward just enough to look at his shoulder and then leaned down, pressing a loving kiss to your boyfriend’s skin. Ford gasped, not expecting the sensation, but quickly relaxing into it. You could stay like this forever.

After some more time enjoying this moment, you noticed the water losing some of its warmth. Ford noticed this as well. “We should probably start getting ready soon.” He said but didn’t move an inch. You chuckled lightly. “Yeah…”

You took a deep breath, taking in as much of this moment as you could. “Do you want me to wash your hair?” Even with all that’s happened to lead you up to this point, Ford blushed again. It was adorable. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I-If you want to?”

With a smile on your lips you gently guided him into a more horizontal position, cupped some water in your hand and let it flow over his head. Once his hair was sufficiently wet you grabbed a bottle of shampoo and put some on your hands before messaging it into his hair. Ford's eyes fluttered shut and he practically melted into your touch. You loved to see him so relaxed and it filled you with pride to know that you were the cause for this.

After you had rinsed his hair with water he was about to sit up straight again but you stopped him. “Your hair needs conditioner.” He didn’t protest and let you go through the same motions again. “I could get used to this…” Ford breathed the words out and you almost didn’t catch them. But when they registered in your mind your heart swelled with affection for the man.

“All done.” Your voice made him open his eyes and sit back up. He was no longer leaning against your chest and you noticed that the foam was starting to dissolve. You could see a little more of his back now, but you tried not to stare.

“I-ehm…” Ford started but didn’t know how to voice his question. You understood him though. “How about I close my eyes for you to get out and then I face the wall to wash my own hair while you get dressed?” Ford chuckled lightly, the tension of having to ask an uncomfortable question immediately lifted by your genuine respect for his boundaries.

“They’re closed,” you told him and he stood up, got out and wrapped himself in a towel. As soon as you heard both of his feet hit the ground you turned in the tub and faced the wall, presenting Ford your back. You wet your own hair and when you were reaching backwards for the shampoo bottle you couldn’t reach it. Seems like you didn’t think this one through fully.

“Here.” You felt the bottle gently hit your hand and took it from him. While you were busy washing your hair, Ford realized that neither of you had brought any fresh clothes into the bathroom. He quickly left to get some for himself and then some for you as well. When he came back you were just putting conditioner into your hair.

“I brought you some clothes as well.” You halted. “I knew I forgot something. Thank you.” Ford chuckled and quickly got dressed into some fresh pants and a different red turtleneck. When he was done you were just about to stand up. Ford picked up the towel and held it in front of himself. You stood up, your back still facing him, and he wrapped his arms around you and the towel along with it.

Ford pressed a chaste kiss to the nape of your neck before letting go of you. “I’ll make us both a hot chocolate.” You just hummed in response.

When you stepped out of the bathroom the house felt warm again and the smell of hot chocolate filled the air. You let the smell guide you to the kitchen where you found Ford. Your arms snaked around his waist, hugging him from behind and you nuzzled your face into his turtleneck.

When he was done preparing the drinks he turned around in your arms, cupping your face in his hands. “What have I done to deserve you?” He sighed dreamily and you smiled a crooked grin at him. “You made us hot chocolate!” You both chuckled and took the drinks to the living room where you both settled into the old recliner.

Once the drinks were emptied and you were just about to drift off into sleep in his arms, you heard Ford whisper in your ear.

“Thank you.”

#you know how the other ones in this series are all less than 1k words so far? yeah...#gravity falls #zigreth writes #gravity falls x reader #stanford pines #stanford pines x reader #ford pines x reader

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pixieishottogo · 2 days ago

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"Anything" ♡ Curly x Anya

art credit: seagummies on twitter

warnings: angst, topic of miscarriage

this is a good ending au of mouthwashing! if u are a hater, then dni🥰 this post aint for u, babe

Chapter 1

Jimmy had been dead for the past few months due to the crash. The crew has been slowly rotting. They have lost all hope, and for good reason. Daisuke and Swansea are unconscious because of hunger and exhaustion. Curly and Anya are slowly losing grip. Despite all this, the beautiful glowing screen still showcased the moon and stars. Curly's hair sticks to his face due to anxious sweat. "Well, we had a good run. Didn't we." Curly smiled. Anya laid beside him and she smiled despite the tears rolling down her face. "Yeah." Curly's breath hitches "Anya... I'm-”

Curly opened his eyes with a jolt. There he was, in the hospital. His whole body was aching. A nurse walked over to his bed, "How are you feeling, sir?" His eyes widened harshly. "Where is my crew?" He yelled. "Are they okay? Is Anya alive? I never got to tell her I'm sorry!" Curly's heart beat spiked. Thinking about Anya's distressed face made him feel nauseous from guilt. He placed his head in his hands, as if grappling with reality. The nurse spoke gently to try and to calm him down, "Everyone is okay. Some are still waking up." He sighed, feeling relieved. A doctor came into the room. "How did we survive? How are we home?" Curly was more than shocked. The doctor walked up to him, holding his papers. "Another space ship found you guys. Some astronomers were on an expedition in the area. You all were very lucky they were out there." The doctor said, cracking a smile. Curly looked down at his hands. "What room is Anya in? If you don't mind asking." Curly asked quietly. The nurse responded, "Room 25. And this is 24." After doing some basic checkups, and giving him some medicine for the pain, the doctor and the nurse left. Curly laid there, alone with his thoughts.

A few hours pass by, and unable to just sit and do nothing, Curly sneaks out of his room. He finds Anya sitting down in the lobby. The moon light shining on her in her hospital gown. She looked tired as usual, and mentally drained, but she still smiled faintly when she heard his voice. "Anya!" He cried out, limping towards her. She looks up at him and smiles with tears in her eyes. He wrapped his arms around her and cried. She held his head gently. "Anya... I-I I'm so sorry. I should have done something. You already had told me that you felt uncomfortable around him. I felt like I was losing my mind. I didn't know what to do. I'm so sorry that I made it seem like I didn't care. I care so much. I will do anything you want to gain your forgiveness. We don't have to ever talk again if that's what you wish. I'm so sorry, Anya." The words came out almost pleadingly, and rushed. He couldn’t hold back a sob. "Captain-... Curly. Our worst moments don't define us. I don't blame you for what happened, we were in the middle of space. But it will still take me a long time to heal. Thank you." Anya was always the more quiet kind. She didn't know how to respond. After several quiet minutes spoke quietly, "I lost the baby." Curly looks up at her, his eyes slightly wide. To not offend her, he asked honestly, "How do you feel?" Tears rolled down her face, as she stared at the ground. "Empty.”

In the morning, Curly and Anya met up with Daisuke and Swansea. It seemed they were recovering well. The crew all sat together in the lobby. It was surreal, everything felt so much lighter. Almost happy. "How are you guys doing? What do you plan on doing after this?" Curly asked. Daisuke's face lights up, "That was totally crazy! I'm happy we survived. I can't wait to see my mom." Swansea pops in, "Heh, It will be nice to be with my family again. No more pony express. I get to be a retired lazy old man!" Swansea chuckles. Anya and Curly look at each other smiling. It felt like a dream.

A few days went by, and the crew slowly recovered. Everyone was released from the hospital once they were fully recovered. Getting back from the hospital was refreshing. The sterile white rooms grew to be nauseating. He could finally go home. Curly pulled up to his home, the sight of his big white house with blue shutters made him smile. That company never cared. Some random astronomers were the ones who cared enough to save them. He was free from that stupid job. He hated being glorified, he soon realized. Curly felt like a monster after everything that had happened. His loving pet guinea pig was waiting for him in his bedroom. Curly’s mother would take care of her every day while Curly was gone. Whenever anyone visits, they are surprised that he has such a small creature when he's such a big guy. Almost every time someone says the classic "Wow. I thought you would have a dog of some sort, captain." He sighed and flopped on the bed but gently held Daphne. He felt so relieved to be home, after all this time. But every time he tried to close his eyes, he would see Anya's crying face

☆

sooo this is my first fan fic ever that im gonna actually commit to😭 plz be patient. also, im gonna try to write the miscarriage plot as realistic as possible. i have had multiple friends and family that have suffered from miscarriages

#mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #curly x anya #jimmy mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing

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shantechni · 17 hours ago

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Related to your post about Mikey "accidentally delivering low blows when stressed" (Aug 2023) would you hc that it's related to his emotional awareness of his family? Like when he blamed Splinter for letting them go up to the surface, he would know Splinter was already questioning his decision to let them do that, or he calls Splinter out on not being affected by his mutated appearance (when Splinter looks uncomfortable being seen by humans/Shredder)? Basically, what are your further thoughts on it? Has he done this elsewhere?

The post in question for the curious cats

This compilation video as well because my big brain remembered me doing that and it's related to this topic and I meant to do a part 2

Oh, that behavior is 100% related to Mikey's emotional awareness. I'd hardly even call it a headcanon, it's just canon lol.

After not only botching their first fight above ground but failing to stop two kidnappings on their watch, the boys immediately start playing the blame game by pointing out each other's rash decisions and dumb mistakes that led to such an outcome. Obviously, the idea of Splinter's decision being yet another mistake of the sorts was hanging somewhere in the air waiting to be grabbed at, but no one readily went for it as something that needed to be acknowledged as mistake. That's why it's so fascinating to see the writers establish Mikey right out of the gate as someone who isn't afraid to comment on Splinter's decisions and his emotional state when he's making those decisions.

He was certainly aware of their father's doubts concerning them going above ground for the first time because a comment like that doesn't just come out of nowhere.

Granted, this instance was him speaking his mind in the heat of the moment and only realizing how much his words would sting after the fact (especially since they're the ones who convinced Splinter to send them off with their begging), but this becoming a continuous trend of his throughout the series further proves the fact of him being more aware of things than a lot of people pegged him to be.

In Mikey Gets Shellacne, his remark about Splinter telling him not to fret about his appearance when he could hardly bring himself to do the same can be interpreted as a more apparent example of him knowing more than he lets on. It's made rather obvious from the start of the series that Splinter wasn't keen on roaming the streets looking like a giant rat, but that's more of a show and tell deal where both the audience and the characters are left on their own to pick up on such an important yet minor detail. Splinter never tells anyone about his insecurity, nor does anyone in the series talk about it amongst each other, so a moment like this can be a bit jarring when it's framed as Mikey calling out Splinter's opinion on his own appearance.

Though the intent of his comment was to simply call Splinter old, the underlying insult is there and Mikey regrets saying something like that to their father of all people.

Other than letting his frustrations get the better of him and unintentionally plucking at Splinter's insecurities, Mikey is greatly in tuned with the emotions of those around him and will usually pick up on any changes rather quickly. Take these two moments with, funnily enough, him and Splinter near the start of Serpent Hunt.

I previously posted the first clip as a funny little observation, but the scene is more intriguing than my jestful sentence made it out to be. Mikey's attention is split between hanging his goofy pieces of artwork on the wooden boards and listening to April as she announces how the restaurant is starting to look like a makeshift home. It's not until he turns around to joke with her about his drawings that he finally has Splinter in his sights, and his attention evidently begins to drift to Splinter as April is responding to his question (you can literally see his head following Splinter's movements while April is speaking to him😭). And just look at how taken aback he is by Splinter's melancholic expression being on full display:

While Splinter answers Mikey by stating that he's concerned for Casey, Leo and Raph because they've been gone for a while, it's pretty obvious that's not all he's bothered by, and him not being subtle about his troubled mind like usual had enough flags raising in Mikey's mind for him to hop up from his spot. Once the scene transitions to the second clip, Mikey lingers with Splinter in the front of the restaurant while April ventures to the back in search of Donnie to check on his progress with the retro-mutagen, as well as to see if the others made it back yet. Mikey and Splinter decide to follow April as soon as Donnie utters Karai's name, and Mikey is visibly bracing himself for another look of heartbreak on their father's visage:

Splinter moments aside, Mikey recognizes when something is up with his brothers and friends, as well as whether or not he should step in. Of course the prominent moments of him demonstrating his ability to calm Leatherhead and Raph down count among the times when he steps in, but the times when he chooses not to step in shouldn't be understated either.

Take the pre-intro scene in The Cosmic Ocean for example, when April breaks the silence and questions where Leo ran off to. We understand where Raph is coming from when he says that it can't be healthy for Leo to confide in a simulated version of Splinter since it could just make him miss their father more than ever, but Mikey suddenly pops from his laid back position off-screen and joins the conversation:

He's knows as well as Raph that speaking with a simulation of their father isn't exactly ideal, but he also knows that Leo is used to coming home to confide in Splinter for advice whenever he feels his confidence as a leader beginning to waver. The whole gang knows all of this, but once again, Mikey's the only one to verbalize it. Sometimes people need to hear something so obvious outloud to really understand or remember its importance, and Mikey seems to know that best.

I don't really need to mention how his emotional awareness extends far beyond simply knowing when someone is down, or when he is or isn't in a position to help them, but it makes for a decent epilogue to this analysis so-

Him being the least (read: least) temperamental of his brothers automatically puts him in the position of a mediator when there's tension in the group, and it's common knowledge that he'd often go out of his way to ease that tension in his own ways. He sometimes makes jokes, both corny and intelligent, just to get everyone's minds off of the heaviness of a situation, even if that moment of reprieve only lasts for a minute. He attempts to break up fights before they get too far, which sometimes doesn't work because they're a stubborn bunch of turtles (literally the entire first five minutes of New Girl in Town lol), but his efforts are commendable and genuine.

He's exceptionally conscious of changes in the atmosphere and a swing in someone's mood, which could go hand in hand with his sixth sense for weird Kraang stuff if you think about it. But all of this comes together to paint an undeniably clear image of Mikey having a great amount of emotional awareness, and just all around being one of the most emotionally intelligent characters of the series.

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n0ahsebastians · 20 hours ago

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mayday, one, two, your touch is atomic...

18+ below the cut, there is HEAVY smut in this! please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable! this is a fic about real people but NOT about things they would do persay, it's all fiction!!!! please enjoy otherwise!!!!

(this is the fic i said i was gonna post last night but i got home hella late from work BAHAHAHHAHAHHAHA here it is though!!!!)

She’s lying on her stomach, cheek pressed into the pillow below her as he presses kisses across her skin. His breath’s warm, raising goosebumps across her upper arms and her legs. She’s bare, so is he. He’d barely made it in the door before he was lifting her up from the couch and carrying her to their bedroom. He took his time with her, laying her down on the bed, kissing her slowly. His fingers tugged at the hem of her t-shirt before lifting it up over her head.

“Lift up,” he says softly against her lips. She smiled before pulling away to allow him to toss her shirt onto the floor somewhere. She was already out of her daytime clothes and of course wasn’t wearing a bra. She laid back on the bed, her breasts on full display, watching the way his teeth sunk into his bottom lip.

“You’re so sexy,” he nearly growls, lifting his own shirt over his head, baring his tattooed torso before her. He leans over her, his lips pressing to her, his tongue parting her lips to brush against her own. Her fingers tangle in his hair at the nape of his neck, tugging gently at the strands. He moans softly when she lifts her leg and her knee brushes against his center. She smiles against his lips, tugging at his bottom one with her teeth.

“Take the rest of your clothes off,” she whispers and he doesn’t hesitate another second. He undresses quickly, tossing his sweats, boxers, and socks to the floor. She reaches out for him and he leans down to press his lips to her left thigh, moving up to her hip bone, before tugging at her underwear with his teeth. He pulls them down with his mouth in one swift motion, her legs lifting up so he can pull them down the rest of the way. They’re tossed to their bedroom floor with the rest of their clothing.

“Wanna taste you, baby,” he presses a kiss to the crease between her center and her thigh, causing her leg to hitch when he nips at the flesh there.

“Yeah.” She can barely speak let alone form a single thought, not while his mouth’s on her like this.

He chuckles at her; she can barely say a single word and it makes this that much more thrilling to him. His mouth trails down her thighs, spreading her legs and placing them over his shoulders. She’s soaking between her legs and he wants to absolutely devour her.

“Baby,” he says, squeezing her knee to get her attention.

“Mhmm.”

“Look at me.”

She opens her eyes, lowers them to look down at this godsend of a man that’s between her legs, and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth again, resting her hand on his cheek. He kisses the palm of her hand, then the inside of her thigh again before pressing his mouth to her. She gasps, instinctively pressing her hips against his face and tugging at his hair. She feels his tongue inside of her, licking and pressing into her folds, these sinful sounds that make her head swim. He sucks his lips at her and she throws her head back against the mattress, digging her heels into his back, pressing her hips even closer to his mouth.

“That’s it, there’s my girl. Taste so fucking good baby.”

His breath is hot against her, his voice vibrating against her causing her breathing to pick up and her hips to move faster.

“Fuck Noah…please…”

“Feels good?”

“Yes, so…so good.” She was so close; they could both feel it. Noah moans against her, breathing gently.

“Come for me baby, come on my tongue.”

She does, she comes hard against his mouth and he mouths at her through her release. He rubs circles into her thigh with his thumb, coaxing her down from her first high of the night. Her breath comes in pants as she drops her legs from his shoulders, his lips pressing to her inner thigh again. She drags her fingers through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead.

“Fucking hell,” he whispers against her skin. She chuckles, watching the way his chin glistens with her arousal. She runs her thumb over his lips, watching the way his eyes flutter closed, watching the way the dim lamp from their bedside reflects off his tattooed skin, her cleaner skin contrasting against him, the way there’s a thin layer of sweat covering their bodies.

She loves them like this, loves the way he makes her feel. Even when they’re not fucking or making love. These little intimate moments between them are ones that she’ll always cherish, ones that she’ll always love. She loves him so much, so much that it hurts sometimes.

Her thumb pushes past his lips and she chuckles gently when he flicks his tongue over the pad of her fingertip. She sees a glimmer in his eye and her heart rate quickens; she knows what he’s thinking.

“Can we try something?” he asks her, releasing her thumb from his lips. He crawls up her body, resting their foreheads together. She nods before answering.

“Yeah.” She’s not sure what he has in mind but she knows it’ll be so good, because that’s what they’re best at.

“Turn over for me,” he says, gently tapping her hip. She hesitates for a moment but turns over onto her stomach.

Now they’re here. Her on her stomach, him above her. She’s nervous, he can tell by how tense she is.

“Just relax, baby. I got you.”

They’ve never done it this way before, it had never really occurred to them to try it. He’d thought about it before of course, so had she. But they had never really gone through with it.

But now…now it seemed like the perfect time. And she was more than ready for it.

His knee parts her legs from above her, a hum falling from her lips. Her hips gently rock against the mattress, trying to release some sort of friction between her thighs. He watches the way her body begins to relax into the sheets as he lowers himself to kiss her skin, across her shoulder blades, the backs of her arms, over her lower back. He ghosts his lips, leaving goosebumps in his wake, over the freckles littering the expanse of her back, inhaling her scent in the process. She smells so good, like vanilla and sex, and it clouds his senses. She smiles into the pillow below her, letting his breath and lips overtake her.

“You okay?” he asks her, his lips meeting the slope between her ass and her lower back, his favorite part of her besides her thighs.

“Yes,” she says quietly. He hovers over her again, nudging her cheek with his nose and pressing his lips there. She turns her head just slightly to press their lips together gently and he sighs against her mouth, suddenly lowering his hands to her hips, lifting her so she’s on her knees. A small gasp leaves her lips before she leans back against him, his blunt nails digging into her skin, kneading the flesh in his hands. Her mouth falls open against his when he pulls her hips back gently to press himself against her backside.

“Can I fuck you like this?” he breathes into her mouth, one of his hands reaching up to cup her breast in his hand.

“Uh huh,” she moans, her own mouth falling open against his, their tongues pressing together. She sighs when his other hand descends where she needs him the most and her eyes flutter closed at the feeling of his fingers suddenly entering her. He nearly comes just from watching her fall apart underneath him for the second time. He circles his fingers inside of her and her head falls back against his shoulder again.

“Fuck baby, you’re so fucking wet,” he nips at her throat gently. She still feels sensitive from her first orgasm but she knows that she’ll be able to do it again; Noah is well aware she’ll be able to come again.

She can barely form a single coherent thought; she’s being all consumed by him. His body’s pressed against her back, his fingers are moving inside of her, his breath on her neck and in her mouth. She feels light headed and his other hand that was covering her breast comes up to wrap around her throat gently. She moans, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip as he fucks her slow with his fingers.

“Fucking Christ, I wish you could see how good you look right now. How sexy you are. Tell me how it feels, love.”

She can’t even speak, let alone form a single syllable. It does feel so fucking good, but she can’t even tell him. She just bucks her hips forward to meet his hand.

“Words, baby girl. Use your words.”

“So…good…”

He chuckles before spreading her legs again, making sure she’s okay, asking her once, twice, and she turns her head again to kiss him slowly.

“Noah…I’m fine, okay?”

“I just…need to make sure,” he says sweetly, rubbing their noses together. He kisses her again, keeping their lips together as he sinks into her from behind. They both gasp and the sound she makes after that mixed with his own is sinful and he nearly comes right then. They’ve never done it like this before, it feels fucking amazing.

“Oh fuck…”

“Noah…” She pushes back against him to try and relieve the ache between her legs but he removes his fingers from her and squeezes her hip gently to stop her from moving.

“I know, baby, I know.”

He keeps his other hand around her throat still, barely putting pressure against her skin. He squeezes her hip again before rocking his hips forward, pulling her closer to him, his hand moving to rest on her lower stomach.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good like this,” he breathes into her neck, his nose nudging at her chin. Her head falls against his shoulder again and her hand lifts to tangle in his hair. The slow drag of his cock inside of her makes her head spin; he can feel every fucking inch of her, more than usual, and it makes his mouth go dry as he fucks her faster, harder. She moans the dirtiest moan he’s ever heard from her and he drags his hand from her throat to her lips, pushing his fingers against her mouth.

“Open your mouth,” he breathes. She gasps as his fingers press into her mouth, dragging against her tongue, his hips snapping against hers, the sensation driving him absolutely insane.

“Noah..unhh…”

“Fucking hell, baby. So…good,” he moans when her tongue curls around his fingers and she begins to suck on them. His eyes flutter closed as he watches her tongue drag against the pad of his fingers, watches the way her legs begin to shake, quivering against his own. She’s so close, he can feel it.

“Oh…oh baby, are you coming again?”

Her breathing speeds up and he squeezes her throat gently, dragging his fingers from her mouth to press against her entrance again.

“Noah…oh fuck, right there…, right there…”

“Right there?” He snaps his hips again in that one spot that has her fucking screaming his name. He never wants this to end, he wants to feel her like this for the rest of his life, wants to be consumed by her for the rest of his life.

“I want…you…to come inside me,” she whispers between breaths, tugging at his hair again and bringing his face around to kiss him again.

“Yeah? Want it inside?” His hips begin to slow down, dragging the length of his cock in and out of her to let this feeling last a few more minutes. She hums at the feeling, gasping as she comes around him seconds later. One hand squeezes her hip, the other squeezing her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers, his own hips stuttering against her as he finishes inside of her moments later. He moans into her mouth, snapping his hips one last time to feel himself dragging inside of her this way, one more time.

“Fuuuuck I love you…” He wraps his arms around her waist, taking her down to the mattress with him, his cock beginning to soften inside of her as they both catch their breath. He pulls out of her slowly and she turns in his grasp, smiling sleepily at him. She wraps her legs around his own, dragging her toes across his tattooed calf. He presses their lips together, a low hum passing between them for her.

“I love you,” she finally says, petting her fingers through his sweaty hair. He scrunches his nose at her.

“That was probably…the best sex we’ve had…”

“Ever?”

“Mmm…maybe not ever, but close. Very close,” he chuckles, dragging his fingers over the skin of her thigh, drawing circles there. She runs her thumb over his cheekbone, down to his lips and his eyes flutter closed. A quiet tone begins to settle over their bedroom, the low hum of the heater from the vents and the sounds of passing cars outside are all they can hear as they settle into one another finally. He absentmindedly runs his fingers up and down her thighs and over her hip without stopping his movements and she suddenly notices that something’s wrong.

“You okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Noah…”

He sighs. Dude she knows, come on now.

“Just…wish you could come with us, that's all.” He means the tour that’s starting in a couple days; they’re going to be gone for almost a month in Europe and even though she’s used to it by now, the band being gone for long periods of time, she knew that he was more worried about it, about leaving her again.

“Noah, I’m gonna be fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Yeah but…last time…”

“Noah, look at me.” She cups his cheek in her hand, running her thumb over his lips before kissing him slowly. He pulls her closer to him by her hip, squeezing the skin. She’s warm, she smells so good, and it’s consuming him once again.

“I’m gonna be fine,” she says against his lips, resting their foreheads together, “I promise if something goes wrong I will call Matt or Bryan immediately.”

“Or Jolly?”

She smiles and kisses him again. “Or Jolly.”

He takes a deep breath, kisses her one more time, before pulling the blanket up over their naked bodies, encasing them in their little bubble.

“I love you so much,” he whispers, kissing her forehead, sleep overtaking them both.

“I love you the most.”

questions? comments? concerns? 🫣

#noah sebastian #bad omens #fanfic #bad omens cult #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah x reader #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian smut #noah x original character #bad omens band

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newkatzkafe2023 · 2 days ago

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Hear me out what would the monkey kings reactions be if their monkey wife gets the same circlet they had on themselves to be on her head

Oh god why would you ask something like that?!?!?!??!?!?oh my god😟😟😟 (I'm being dramatic but still😦)

(Lmk Wukong) Yoooooo he is mighty pissed right now, he left you out of the celestial war for a Motherf*cking REASON!!!!!!!!😡🤬 He knew damn well you would escalate the situation especially with your weapon and how many Celestials lost their lives to you. Though to punish you for something you were not responsible for like at all, it made his blood boil remembering it. Which is why he made to take extra good care of you.

(MKR Wukong) He's also SUPER PISSED AT THIS!!!😡😡😡😡 it's bad enough you were both put in Separate mountains, but for you to suffer from those glorified shock collor. ARE YOU KIDDING HIM😡😡😡😡, which is why any offense and mistake you made he would gladly take the blame or accountability for. It's no problem at all after all he had dragged you into this situation, and is ever so sorry for it.

(NR Wukong) He feels horrible about it to this day, not to mention you were his second in command in the war. Then you were put under the same mountain and he would spend all those years apologizing for what happened, but your were more angry with heaven then you would be with him. Then it's gets worse when you are made to wear the circlet as well and those things are painful!!!! Wukong made sure to protect you from it's effects despite your pain tolerance to be higher then his.

(HIB Wukong) Yoo I feel he got the worse of it like seriously It was bad enough he had to listen to you cry in a Separate mountain for 500 years especially since you couldn't see him. Now when he's let out, he finds that they put you in a blood diamond and a forced circlet on you I swear THEY WANT TO DELIBERATELY PISS HIM OFF, he comforts you every time you were shocked. Even with your Extremely high paint tolerance, He hates this and angry at heaven and at himself.

(Netflix Wukong) Oh cool matching crowns his first though, but then he saw what they were really for and boi was he scared and Furious at the truth of them. I mean considering you went to help your husband fight heaven all those years ago, it was kinda expected but very much uncalled for. He always made sure to cuddle and kiss you pain away whenever they were used and would take the pain himself when ever.

(BMW Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh sh*t.....this, this is probably the most Angry anybody has ever seen him like it's claws on sight😡😰 You don't ever in your long or short life EVER HARM HIS QUEEN UNDER ANY GOD DAMN CIRCUMSTANCES!!!!!!!!!!😡😡😡😡 Wukong is Furious, vindictive, but gets responsible as he takes the blame for all your offensives but once he gets you out of that F*cking shock collar it claws on sight with Erlang👿👿👿👿

(Destined one) that was a dark and terrible time, after all you were there with that fight with Erlang. You had jumped in to help your husband in battle but you both lost at the time. Then that horrible circlet that would shock to to kingdom come, you always had a high pain tolerance but you were still uncomfortable and that was enough to make the destined one irritated and Vicious he's gonna make sure you won't have to worry about a thing.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG😬

#monkey king netflix #monkey king reborn #monkey king x reader #nezha reborn #lmk monkey king #monkey king hero is back #x female y/n #black myth wukong #the destined one x reader #married life #marriage

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episodes-ff · 3 days ago

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Please Please Please

Anaya

Riding home in uncomfortable silence, I glanced back to see Maya sound asleep before peering over at Terry as he drove home. Noting the frown lines and creases of anger on his face, I reached over and subtly rubbed his shoulder. Sighing deeply, he continued to drive in silence as we made it home. Watching him get the bags out of the car, I pulled Maya from her seat and shushed her fussiness with a bottle heading inside. Rocking her to sleep, I watched him unpack and put up the groceries and supplies. “Baby?” “Not right now, Anaya.”

Nodding at his sentiments, I waltzed up to the nursery and sat in the rocking chair as I continued holding the baby. Looking up as I heard his heavy footsteps, he gently lifted her from my arms before kissing her cheeks and laying her in her crib. Signaling for me to follow him, I got up and set her baby monitor before closing her room door and walking with him into our bedroom. “Terry, I’m so so-“ “Anaya! Please can you just hush right now.” He snapped sternly as I tried to control the sting of tears I felt creeping to the surface. “Come here.” He spoke quietly as I nervously followed his instruction. Standing in front of him, he looked down at me with an angry, disappointed expression before kneeling down to his knees and hugging me close. Heaving a deep sigh as I hugged him back, he pulled away and I could see the thick, salty tears cascading down his beautiful face.

“Babyyy.” I cooed with worry as I wiped his cheeks. “I’m sorry for losing my cool in front of you and Maya. That should have never happened. I… I just saw how uncomfortable you were and I pictured him doing something to you and her and I just fucking lost it. I snapped…” He voice cracked while he ranted helplessly. I nodded and caressed his shoulders taking in his words. “I don’t ever wanna imagine something happening to you two especially after what I went through with him.” He cried as I nodded tearing up thinking about his cousin Mike. “Get up, baby.” Standing to his feet, I sat him on the bed and wiped his eyes before kissing his frowned lips. “I understand your worries, baby. Trust and believe me I do. But me and baby girl are right here and we’re not going anywhere. Ok?” Nodding, he sighed a breath of relief as he held me closer to him hugging my hips. “I’m really sorry about earlier, mama.” “There’s nothing to be sorry about, papa. Can I get a smile? Hmm?” I asked poking his dimpled cheeks earning his bright smile. “I love you so much, Anaya. You have no idea.” He spoke truthfully as his eyes explored my soul. “Can I get a hint?” I hummed trailing my hands up to his face as I bit my lip.

Meeting my lust filled gaze, he held my cheek and smiled softly before guiding me to straddle his awaiting lap. “I think I can make that happen.” He husked trailing his lips down my neck as chills shot up my spine. Gasping as his warm breath touched my ear, I smoothly wound my hips while his big hands held me closer. “Just like that, Mama. You got me so hard.” “Yes, baby.” Using his thumbs and fingertips to gently trace my back, the goosebumps rose up my spine as he sucked and nipped at my neck leaving passion marks in his wake. Swiftly removing my shirt, we resumed our heated exchange before he moved me onto my back. “So beautiful, mama.” He complimented as I melted under his lips. Gripping and squeezing my left breast, his kisses traveled lower until he met my right and began sucking feverishly. Being trapped in this heavenly moment I couldn’t do anything but moan his name as he showed me care. After giving my left the same attention, he licked and kissed the rest of his way down until he met with my awaiting pussy. Removing my shorts, he sucked in a sharp breath admiring my thong-clad peach. “So fucking pretty, baby.” “It’s all yours, Daddy.” Sliding the material off, I waited with panted breaths as he rubbed slow circles around my now swollen clit. “Fuck, baby.” “Hmmm, are you sure you need that?” He questioned teasing me as I grew more impatient. “Yes baby, I need it. Please please please.” I begged, a whimpering mess as he continued toying with my love. Giving me a loving gaze as he bit his lip, he locked eyes with me as he gave my mound slow and long licks. “Ohhhh, Terry!”

Terry

“Fuuuuuck just like that, girl. You taking this dick so good, mama.” I groaned as I stroked her deeply. Tugging her hair as I continued delivering powerful back shots, I bit my lip focusing on not cumming too quick as I sloshed around in her insides. “Baeeeeeee.” She whined gripping the sheets as I massaged her hips. “You feel so fucking good, baby.” She cried arching as much as she could to allow more access. “Shit, mama. Don’t move.” I panted as I held her in place and drove faster into her. Snapping my hips into her backside, she yelped deliciously as her juices continued running down both our thighs. “This pussy so fucking wet and creamy. Fuck, why you tryna make me cum so fast, baby? You like when Daddy cum fast in yo pussy?” I hissed smacking her ass as she trembled under me. “Daddyyyyy.” “Mmmm. Yes, baby?” “Fuuuuuck, I’m gonna cum!” “Let it out, baby. Gimme that sweet ass cum, mama.” I husked taking hold of her hips and pounding harder as she moaned releasing all over me. “Ohhhhhhhh, fuck fuck fuuuuck!”

Not letting up on her, I let her ride out her orgasm as I felt mine soon following behind. “Wait, baby.” She panted sliding off of me as I looked up in confusion. “Lay down.” Following her lead, I laid on my back and placed my hands behind my head as I watched her movements. Kissing my lips hungrily, she smiled biting my lip as I smacked her ass earning her giggles. Reaching down between us, she gripped my shaft and massaged it against her wetness causing a flustered moan to part my lips. “Damn, Naya.” Leaning down to suck and kiss on my neck, she rolled her hips allowing her warmth to wrap around me in sweet bliss. “Shiiiiiit.”

Sliding her down more until our hips met, my eyes rolled back as she started riding me like a pro. Clenching her walls around me, my hand reached up to fondle her neck while she positioned her hands on my shoulders. Making sure she was in a stable spot, she started throwing ass like rent was due as I lost my mind under her. “Shit, I’m boutta cum, baby. You ready for Daddy to cum inside this pussy?” “Yesssss, cum with me, Daddy.” She cooed gyrating faster. Pulling her down to me, I held her close as I let go shooting ribbons of cum inside her love. “Ohhh my god.” I whimpered tangling my hand in her scalp as she continued rocking her hips and milking me dry. “That’s it, baby. Fill me up just like that.” She hummed in my ear as she rubbed my chest. Finally letting it all out, I sighed deeply as my toes curled.

Admiring her beauty, I smiled at her as she bit her lip caressing my chin. “Let’s have another baby.” “What?” “You heard me. Let’s have another baby.” I smiled softly as she laughed. “You really serious, baby?” “Yea, I’m serious girl. Have my baby.” I sang hugging her. “Your baby in there sleeping, Terry.” “I know, but let’s give her a little best friend.” I coaxed rubbing her body and kissing her neck as she giggled. “You are something entirely else.” “You didn’t say no though.” I said sucking another hicky onto her shoulder. “So you gone have my son son?” Rolling her eyes, she pinned my hands against the headboard and kissed me deeply before trailing her lips down my chest. “You’re very annoying you know that?” “Wh-what are you doing?” “You want a son, we’re gonna have you your son, Mr. Richmond.” She purred getting closer to my manhood and I shivered. “Wait, bae, I’m uh, I’m a little sensitive right now. You think we can get some rest first?” I said leaning up on my elbows as she continued snaking down my body. “Who needs rest? We got work to do, Daddy.” “Anaya?” “Terry.” She countered staring at me as my heart raced watching her reach down and grip me in her hand. “Anaya? W-wait, wait… Ohhhh shit.” I panted and cowered as she slowly licked my overstimulated tip. This woman gone be the death of me I swear.

Tags (Based on interactions, if you’d like to be added or removed let me know): @violetmuses @believeinthefireflies95 @brisunique @kaylaahisthebestest- @madxlov3 @armandosbabymama @casualsludgeshoetoad @mauvecherie-writes @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @theereina @kumkaniudaku @geneziesm @megamindsecretlair @simpledopeme @goldenjasssy @vivaalenaa @playgurlxoxo @ghettogirly @luuvprincess @perfectlyimperfectme @tbmotw @comfortzonequeen @melanin-honeyy @strawberrymoon45 @luckygirlszn @kindofaintrovert @secretlifeoofmarpessa @cmbmjbfan @summwerella @qdancer22

#episodes-ff #fanfiction #anaya ivy #aaron pierre #terry richmond #short stories

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hhghgt · 3 days ago

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How ep 6 should have ended:

Buck barely remembers how he ended up here. All he knows is that, after Tommy left him, he’d stumbled out of his apartment with a six-pack, and somehow, his legs had brought him to Eddie’s place. Maybe he wasn’t thinking straight—hell, he knew he wasn’t. Eddie’s house had become his refuge so many times over the years, and tonight, it was the only place he could imagine feeling any semblance of comfort.

When Eddie opened the door, Buck shoved a cold beer into his hand and stormed into the living room, collapsing onto the couch in a daze. Eddie quietly followed, sitting down beside him, and for a while, the only sounds between them were the clicks of bottles opening, the quiet sighs of breath as they drank, and the creak of the couch under their weight.

By the time Buck’s fourth—or maybe fifth—beer was empty, eddie asks: “Are you okay?” Eddie’s voice, soft but steady, broke the silence that had lingered since Buck had walked in.

“Tommy’s gone,” Buck mumbled after a long pause, his voice rougher than he’d expected. “Left me. Just… left.”

Eddie nodded, taking it in quietly, just understanding. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Buck let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, leaning back and letting his head fall against the couch. He hadn’t realized how badly he needed that—someone just sitting with him, letting him be a mess without asking for answers.

“I don’t know why I keep ending up here, Eddie. You’d think… I don’t know… you’d think I’d learn by now that I’m not good at this. Not good at… keeping people around.”

Eddie shifted a bit closer, his voice lowering, warm and steady.“Maybe you don’t have to try so hard. Maybe… someone’s been here all along, just waiting for you to notice.” The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

The words settled between them, weighted and deliberate. Buck turned his head, meeting Eddie’s gaze for the first time that night, his friend’s steady look holding something more. There was a softness there he hadn’t noticed, the absence of Eddie’s usual guarded expression making him look almost vulnerable, raw in a way that struck something deep in Buck, made his heart stammer in his chest, leaving him feeling vulnerable, caught off guard.

And then he noticed the details he’d missed. Eddie’s face was clean-shaven, bare without the mustache. His gaze tracing over the lines of his face and the sight was… distracting, almost intimate in a way he hadn’t expected. And then he noticed the rest: Eddie was missing more than just the mustache. His legs were bare, stretched out, his white shirt hanging low, skimming just above his thighs. He was sweaty and flushed maybe he was warking out or something.

“Uh…” Buck blinked, the haze of alcohol and exhaustion blurring into something else as he kept staring, taking in the sight of Eddie, his best friend, looking so casually undone, his face bare and softened in the low light, relaxed yet alert, like he was waiting for something from Buck that Buck hadn’t even realized he wanted to give.

“You’re staring,” Eddie whispered, his tone somewhere between teasing and serious, his voice pulling Buck back from his daze.

Buck swallowed, his own voice barely a whisper. “Where are your pants? And… the mustache?” A nervous chuckle escaped him, half a laugh, half something else he couldn’t name.

Eddie grinned, low and easy, like he knew something Buck didn’t. “You don’t like it?”

The question lingered, and Buck couldn’t look away. “No, I mean… yeah, I like it,” he murmured, feeling his cheeks flush as he realized just how much he was still staring, caught between the unexpected closeness of Eddie beside him and the hum of energy that buzzed between them. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward. It felt like it was building toward something, something he didn’t want to break, It felt like Eddie was letting him figure it out, letting him find the words. Buck finally looked up again, meeting Eddie’s steady gaze. "Maybe… maybe you’re right," he admitted softly, the thought both terrifying and grounding. "Maybe I don’t have to keep looking."

They were close enough that Buck could feel Eddie’s breath against his skin, could see the way Eddie’s eyes darkened, gaze locked on him, waiting.

“Buck…” Eddie’s voice was barely a whisper, filled with something raw, something that sent a shiver down Buck’s spine.

Without thinking, Buck closed the remaining distance, his lips brushing against Eddie’s in a tentative kiss, soft and questioning, yet charged with all the weight of the words they hadn’t said. Eddie responded instantly, his hand coming up to the back of Buck’s neck, fingers threading through his hair as he deepened the kiss, the warmth of his touch grounding Buck in a way he’d never felt before.

Buck had always thought being with Abby and then Tommy had changed him—made him see parts of himself he hadn’t understood before.

But being here with Eddie was something else entirely. It didn’t feel like he was changing for Eddie or even because of him. Instead, being with Eddie felt like coming back to himself, like shedding the layers he’d worn to fit into other people’s lives. With Eddie, he didn’t have to try so hard to be what he thought someone else needed. Eddie didn’t ask him to change; he just saw him, accepted him in a way that made Buck feel seen in a way he never had before.

With Eddie, it wasn’t about transformation��it was about finally feeling whole, like he was exactly where he was meant to be, as he was. Eddie gave him space to just be Buck, flaws and all, and Buck realized that maybe this was the kind of love he’d been searching for all along, one that didn’t require him to be anything other than himself.

Eddie wasn’t just someone who had walked into his life and left a mark—he was the one who stayed, the one who showed up time and time again, even when Buck was at his worst.

#911 abc #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie au #911edit #911 au #buddie fic #911 fic #buddie edit

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tsams-is-my-hyperfixation · 3 days ago

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◀ | ◼ | ▶

[NONVERBAL SUN AU: LUNAR]

Moon skipped around. He was finally learning how to walk! Sun watched him, smiling softly. It was after hours again, with all the kids going home. Moon stopped abruptly, looking at a barrel. He then walked over to Sun, poking his shoulder. Sun turned to look at him. "What's wrong, Moon?" the solar animatronic asked. Moon blinked. "I feel weird" Moon responded. Sun sighed, as Moon sat down. Sun got on his knees and powered him off. Then, he went into the mindscape.

Moon's mind was...peaceful. It was a nice little island, with the nighttime sky shining down on it. The light of the moon illuminated the walls of a gazebo in the middle. Then, he saw something. It was quick, but Sun noticed. It looked like Moon, but it glowed. It was smaller than Moon, about 6'7. Sun walked over to the gazebo, the midnight moon shining a light that let him see. The stars glowed softly in the night sky, so beautiful it looked unreal. Sun put a hand on the door frame as he peeked inside. He saw the glowing blue eyes. "Hello?" he asked, and his voice echoed into the vast darkness surrounding him.

"Yes?" a smaller, higher voice greeted him. He flinched, surprised, but quickly gathered himself together. "Why are you in my brother's head?" Sun asked. "Head? This is my home!" the voice responded. Sun, taken aback, responded with a sharp "This isn't your home, this is my brother's head!" in which the voice replied with a raspberry sound. Sun walked in, and when the blue eyed thing tried running, he caught it. Staring it dead in the eyes, he realized it was none other than a kid. Mentally, at least.

"Who are you." Sun asked it. "I'm Lunar!" it responded. Sun, surprised, put it down. "Lunar, eh?" he said. "Tell me, Lunar, why are you occupying my brother's mind?" "Because I was made here and I live here!" Lunar responded back sharply. Sun glared at him. He was REALLY not liking this kid. "Listen. You're gonna stop causing my brother discomfort, okay?" he said sternly. "But I'm bored!" Lunar responded with, annoyed. "I'LL GET YOU SOME GAMES, ALRIGHT?" Sun snapped, making Lunar flinch under his voice. It took him a bit to realize that the guy was tearing up. He sighed in exasperation.

"Look. Sorry for yelling. I'll get you some games, okay? But stop making Moon uncomfortable." he told Lunar. Lunar silently nodded as Sun left the mindscape. When returned, Moon was powered back on, hugging him. "I feel better, brother!!!" Moon exclaimed happily, to which Sun pat his back. "Good...that's good..." he said softly. "Sunny, we must be close in EVERY universe, right?" he said happily.

"..." Sun didn't have the heart to say that a universe probably existed where nothing was as good as now. "Yeah...probably..."

I LOVE THIS AU SO MUCH!!! The island is where Moon died originally though...

Tagging people who might like it even if we aren't mutuals: @goodolddumbbanana @noinoi999 @ikamigami @multifandomcutie13 @thekillermaretwinz @inkyucu @skyuvu123 @ryomaandgundhamkin @coffee-the-bat @sen-sational @dagh0stking @ilikescience-confession-blog @tsamsconfessions123 @silly-a-777 @nosleepygay @eddwardharrison @bloodmoon-da-idiot @lunarlovesbeanbags @mo0ndr0p @sleepy-hall @a-fucking-tornado @rayofmfsunshine1201 @darksuns-beloved-pet @letthebloodrunlikeariver @astrofairy06 @sunny-sourzii @upsidedownapple @yelesomeblue @deyisacherry @zampop2 @h-didanart and literally anyone else. Half the people on here are not my mutuals and half of them are. If you would like your tag removed, just ask me and I gladly will. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

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theallianceofcelestials · 20 hours ago

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Sooo, yesterday's MASM episode, huh?

Why is Moonblock, Moonstone, whatever you wanna call him, the way he is? He doesn't make any sense! I'm not going to talk about anything they do in gaming videos, because that's just the VA's bullying eachother, like frinds do.

Pulling Sun along on their adventures as a way to try and bond, helping him (however reluctant that help may be) whenever Sunny goes to him for something, fixing him up during the night, while Sun is sleeping, knowing and making him his favourite cookies (once), wingmanned him a handful of times (the one where he told Sun, Roxy and Foxy to go get ice cream, which turned into the Roxy and Sun date episode, was very sweet of him) ect.

But then turning around, calling him mean names, yelling at him, hitting him, laughing and encouraging when others are jackasses to him (like when Bonnie hung him from the ceiling, and he was up there for days. crying.), joining in on when a child as a form of playing, wanted to stab him - and yeah, sure, he may be made of metal and plastic, so he would've been mostly fine if the kid stabbed him, but just like with the rabbit shooting him with fake bullets, that still hurts, - stabbing him just in general with a sword, blowing him up, letting others shove grass and weeds down his throat and jumping on him from higher and higher with more and more force (which actually could've seriously injured him. they're heavy machines, who were not made to whitstand other heavy machines jumping on them), hitting him and letting him be hit by others with a shopping cart, that half-assed apology in 'Sun Begins His VILLAIN ARC With Eclipse??!!' episode, which kind of sounded condescending if you ask me, basically going "Welp, I tried" when Sun still refused to go back "home", and all the other other sins the little space rock has, but we'd be here all night and I have to watch my bloodpressure.

He clearly wants to be friends with Sun, or at least wants to spend time with him, as I already mentioned. He wants to be close-ish with him. And he claims he likes him, just like how he likes everyone else in the Plex.

But that just feels like he said it, one so Sun wouldn't leave, and two so he doesn't have to directly tell him he likes him.

He sometimes acts almost exactly like the stereotypycal *giggling and kicking feet in the air* "My crush/bestest friend forever and meee <3", but in the most assholeish Karen way of "If A bOy PuLlS yOuR hAiR aNd Is BuLlYiNg YoU! ThAt MeAnS hE iS cRuShInG oN yOu!"

Like, "Oooh I'll write me and Sun's name together as the password🥰! But throw in someone else's name aswell, so if he ever finds out I can just say it's me and my two friends!!"

Make it make sense!

This post was meant to be about how the way everyone acted in yesterday's episode 'Sun Continues His VILLAIN ARC And Plans REVENGE...' felt heavily like it was backtracking. But I kind of got sidetracked with talking about the little space rock.

How "Yeah, I only was an ass to you and abused, so you would reach your literal breaking point, snap and go join Eclipse, so I could try and catch him. Proud of ya, or whatever I'm supposed to say, here's a plush... Still going to shoot you. Because why not." and "Ohh ya know, stabbing people is just Foxy's way of showing he loves you! Classic Foxy teehee!" just felt like some poor attempt at damage control. Same with suddenly everyone wanting to hang out with Sun, the one time he wanted to be left alone.

I'm not counting Freddy, his IQ is room temperature on good days, and I mean it in the nicest of ways. As nice as can be.

But why do suddenly everyone else want to hang out with Sun, like he's suddenly the most interesting of people. Though they're still hitting him with gokarts, insisting they need to look at something at the back of his head (a bump which may or may not have even been there), and when he rejected the idea of them looking at his head, clearly uncomfortable, they surrounded him, held him down, and forcibly checked his head and then fixed(?) it.

And then when he wanted to be alone again to cry, they still wouldn't leave him be. The rabbit actually wanted to watch.

In short, because I truly lost where I was going with this post and just started ranting, yesterday's episode felt like everyone attempting to backtrack a little, but falling back into the comfortable habits, the little space rock confuses me (what do you want?! do you want to be friends? do you want to hold hands with him in the most romantic of ways? do you just view him as a sentient punching bag?! do you just want to keep him around and fix him up, so he can do all the daycare stuff so you don't have to?!), I hate the rabbit so much, same with the gator and the fox, disappointed in the others, and Sunblock. Deserves. Justice.

#moon and sun minecraft #masm #masm sun #masm freddy #masm roxanne #masm bonnie #masm foxy #masm moon #I really lost where I was going huh #rant #i guess???#yeah. rant #little space rock why are you so weird?#there's no other word to describe it #putting your and Sun's name together as the password is quite peculiar #like writing your names under a little umbrella #but then having someone give him a drink which explodes upon consumption?#rant over I have a pair of episodes to catch

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us3rnam3-r3dact3d · 2 days ago

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the world (it burns through me)

Chapter 7

Ao3 | 2.7k Words | Darlin's POV

Milo is a drill Sergeant. Darlin' gets some emails. Angel washes dishes. Quinn is the type of asshole that flirts with teenagers.

TW: Stalking, threatening behavior, vomit.

“You’ve gotta put on some weight.” Milo tutted, his hands resting on his trim waist. Even two years later, Milo was a picture of petty tension. He hadn’t grown, despite the fact that he claimed people could grow into their mid twenties. He had built up a good deal of muscle in his back and chest, which served to make him look just a little bigger. He still had an air about him that made him seem two feet taller, even when you stared purposefully past the top of his head to piss him off.

Milo had started working you out as soon as Sam had given you the all clear, after you gave up on trying to avoid him. He was faster than you when he wanted to be, and staying away from him was so much less fun than just giving in to the familiarity of your quiet, playful arguments.

The workouts started slow; annoying, silent yoga, something his partner had gotten him into that left you infuriatingly loose and relaxed afterwards. Once you could do that without panting and twitching with pain, he moved up. Light cardio and weights. You’d managed alright with that. Your stamina was shot but you were strong. Now, Milo had moved on to C.P.A.T. specifics.

You’d passed the Candidate Physical Ability Test with flying colors the last time you’d taken it, but that felt like a lifetime ago. You were younger, stronger, fitter. What came to you naturally at eighteen made you wheeze at twenty-seven. Milo cast his gaze across the practice course before cutting those clever eyes back to you and your sorry state.

“There aren’t any weight class requirements for the physical.” You snapped.

“No,” Milo replied, “but you’re not gonna get through the endurance test like this. You’re gonna fall out.”

“I guarantee you I won’t.”

“Put your money where your mouth is, doll.”

“Call me that again and I’ll knock your teeth out.”

“Twenty?”

“Fifty.”

You won, just barely. Milo had a point, though. Running that course in full turnouts, hauling that ladder, scaling it, finding the hidden dummies in the fake building’s facade and hauling them back down, dragging the dummies and the ladder back the safe distance requirements; it was nearly too much for you. By the time you’d finished the run, you were gasping for breath, gripping at your protesting ribs, and dumping the dummies at your feet without a care for their ‘wellbeing.’ That part wasn’t new. It was a habit from your days as a probie you couldn’t shake. This time, though, it was done with some extra disdain.

Milo clapped a fifty in your hand and let you catch your breath before he tugged off your turnouts, up your tank top, and pressed his thin, clever fingers into your flesh to check your ribs.

“You’re gonna make me blush.” You gasped. Milo sneered.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed if you don’t give your body what you need. You have to eat to heal.” He shook his head, dark curls bouncing this way and that. You patted him on the head the way you knew he hated.

“You’re preaching to the choir. David’s already working on me.”

“He’s got the patience of a Saint.”

“No, he’s just force feeding me.”

“Good.”

You were eating three square meals a day, all packed with protein and healthy fats and carbs. Whenever David wasn’t putting out fires, both literal and figurative, he was cooking. He put more plates in front of you than you could manage in a day. It was the biggest bulk you’d experienced in your life, and even it was falling short of what your body needed. To be completely fair to David’s efforts, your body had always run on fumes. There had never been enough to go around. You had gotten used to making that work.

David surrounded you with abundance. The tension of your sort-of-fight had eased. He had started asking you questions. They were uncomfortable, and you were finding it harder and harder to dodge them.

You were going to spill your guts soon. You could feel it crawling up and out of you. You were going to lay down your load at David’s feet, unburden yourself through clenched teeth and let him take the weight. You’d done it with Gabe. David looked so much like him.

You hit the showers, scrubbing the sweat from your skin. The cold tile made your toes curl. The lines of your tattoos were raised with cold and irritation from the cheap body wash that was stocked in all of the shower stalls. You ran ghost-soft touch over all of them before moving on to your scars. The one over your side, the newest one, was still pink and new. If you pressed hard enough on the two inches of clean, stitched skin, it still hurt.

David caught you in the locker room as you slipped a D.F.D sweatshirt over your head. You’d slowly moved your meager belongings from your shitty studio to the last locker in the row at the 10-19. David had offered you plenty of his own clothes, but you didn’t like to wear them. Not the way that his spouse did, anyway. The little Shaw slid one of his giant tee-shirts over their head and wore it like a badge of honor, like a mark of ownership. You didn’t own David. You certainly didn’t plan on letting him own you. As it stood, the majority of your wardrobe was either covered in blood or stolen pieces from the D.F.D.’s lost and found.

“Hey,” you mumbled, pushing your still-wet hair away from your face, “are you done, do we need to go?”

“No,” David shook his head. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his uniform pants. “I’ve got a few more hours. Look, I reactivated your D.F.D. email account. There’s a form in there for the next C.P.A.T.. Fill it out sometime today.”

“Okay.” You nodded. “When is it?”

“Three weeks.” David said. “I can get you back on the job within forty-eight hours if you pass it.”

“If?” You grinned. “I recall holding a record with my last one.”

“Yeah well,” David shrugged, “you were a spring chicken then. We’ve gotten old.”

“Speak for yourself, Shaw.” You flashed teeth. “I could still kick your ass.”

“Email. Form. Today.” David barked. You could tell, somewhere in your gut, that he was joking just as much as you were.

“Yes, Captain, sorry, Captain.” You clicked your heels together in a salute as he rolled his eyes and retreated down the hallway towards his office. A smile slid over your face as he left you alone in the cold, quiet locker room.

You D.F.D. email had two-thousand-and-seventy-three unread messages waiting for you once you’d managed to remember the password. You flopped down on a couch in the bunk room and sighed as you clicked into the newest one, skimming the form to sign up for the C.P.A.T.. Something about filling out that form, going to that test, made your chest hurt. It made all of it, being back here at the 10-19 feel… real. That was a dangerous thing for you. You couldn’t explain why.

November was drawing towards a close. The cold had long settled over Dahlia and into your blown, shitty joints. You could do the C.P.A.T., you could not do it. December would come on either way.

You clicked out of the form, out of the email, and back to your inbox. Maybe you’d feel more inclined to carry on with your future when all of the spam messages were gone.

Spam. Advertisement. Debt collector. Spam. Medical bill. Spam.

You almost swiped it right into your archives when your eyes caught on the subject line of a message from an email address consisting entirely of scrambled numbers and letters. That was usually enough for you to chuck the whole thing as bullshit. The subject, though, made your heart squeeze. You sat up on the couch, your feet hitting the ground. You needed your boots flat on the floor. You needed your legs under you when you read this. You might need to run.

Back home so soon, Precious?

Bile rose up in your throat, acidic and cutting. You swallowed hard and clicked on the address’s icon. Copy, paste, the address went into your search bar and twenty-odd unopened messages popped up.

California state employees’ email addresses all followed the same formula. Last name, first initial. It would be so easy for Quinn to find it.

You scrolled down to the earliest message and opened it up. The subject line made your hands shake; I’m never far behind, you know.

It was a picture of you from sometime in September. You were still black and blue from the fight you two had devolved into. You were standing in a gas station somewhere in Washington, staring at two different, overpriced painkiller options. You’d killed that bottle in less than a week.

You’d known, in your gut, that Quinn would follow you when you ran. You hadn’t noticed him. You thought for sure, if he was that close, you’d have noticed.

It was more of that. A picture of you in a diner, flirting with the waitress who gave you free pie. A shot of the back of your head in a Greyhound bus heading for California. You through the stained, narrow windows of your shitty apartment.

Sam and his EMT’s leaving the night you’d been stabbed.

Sam’s truck in the firehouse parking lot.

Sam at lunch in a plush restaurant with a handsome man in his mid-forties.

Sam sitting on the porch of his cabin, coffee cup in his hand. He looked so peaceful, his eyes closed and head tilted back against his rocking chair.

Vincent in his fancy car, kissing who you assumed to be his partner in a school parking lot. He’d mentioned that they worked in an elementary school.

Sam’s Probie walking towards a nightclub, their arm linked with a drop-dead-gorgeous man, surrounded by friends.

David outside of a fire, smudged with soot, directing the scene like a conductor.

Little Shaw standing at the sink, scrubbing the remnants of dinner from a plate, taken through the slots in the pantry door.

He had been inside David’s house. He had stood three feet away from them and taken that picture. He was close enough to hear the little songs they hummed to themself whenever it got too quiet.

You locked your phone, stuffed it into your pocket, and moved. You barely made it to the bathroom before you lost your lunch.

He could get inside the house. He had gotten inside the house. There was no telling how long he’d stayed there. He could be there right now, waiting in the shadows for somebody to pass by and make an example out of. You had to tell David. You had to make them leave, had to put them both somewhere safe and torch the fucking place. It was tainted. He’d been in there, and it would never be safe again.

Hands shaking, you replied to that last picture, staring at their tiny frame and estimating how long it would take Quinn to subdue them. Seconds. He could kill them in seconds.

What do you want?

The response was almost instant.

You.

He attached an address. You didn’t need to punch it in anywhere to know it. Max’s was familiar ground. The house ordered from there more than anywhere else, and Gabe’s accident had been just down the road.

It got dark early this time of year, and by the time you emerged from the bathroom, the sun had set and night shift had invaded the building. You could smell dinner on the stove and hear the chatter of the house through the walls. If you hung a left, you’d be surrounded by them. You could find David, ask him to talk. He would know what to do about Quinn. He would handle it.

Quinn was dangerous. David could handle himself, but Quinn fought dirty. David couldn’t win against him, not playing by the rules.

No, you had to handle this yourself. David was already in danger, his spouse too. Quinn liked to aim for the weakest link. He liked to strike where it was easy to do real damage without taking any injuries himself. That’s where he’d hit you. The only way you’d learned to make him back off was to hit him head on, to not even give him the chance to find your weak point.

He knew you just about as well as you knew him, of course. You’d have to hope he wouldn’t call your bluff. You’d have to hope he wouldn’t smell the terror rolling off of you in waves.

You retreated away from the noise, from the sounds of your house, and towards the ambulance bay. You could sneak out the backdoor, have it out with Quinn, and be back before David was any the wiser. You gripped your hand into a fist as you shrugged on your jacket and shouldered open the back door.

“Darlin’,” Sam’s voice called from inside. You stilled, boots just barely on the icy sidewalk outside. You turned, your hands still fists at your sides. Sam’s uniform collar was unbuttoned. He must have been getting off shift. “Where ‘ya running off to?”

“Mother hen.” You muttered bitterly. Sam smiled anyway, seeming almost… bashful. “Just going on. Meeting somebody. Shouldn’t be long.”

“Well, I’m off.” Sam reached inside to grab his jacket off the rack. “Let me drive you. It’s cold as all hell.”

“I’m fine.” You shook your head and stepped back. “Really.” You did not want to introduce Sam to Quinn. You didn’t want Quinn to make any assumptions. You didn’t want Sam to hear the things he was going to say to you, about you. Whatever you were, whatever parts of you Quinn had broken, whatever parts of you had always been broken, Sam didn’t know about them. You didn’t want him to see you and all of your broken parts in the naked light.

“Is it… um… are you going to see him?” Sam squinted at you, his jacket still in his hands. You swallowed. Your poker face crumbled. You’d never been a good liar.

“Sam,” you started, hands clenching and unclenching.

“I’ll take you.” He said decisively. You blinked, surprised. You were expecting him to try and talk you out of it.

“You… you’ll take me?”

“I’m sure as shit not letting you go alone.” Sam grinned like it was such a ridiculous notion that it was funny. “Come on, we can talk on the ride.”

You were quiet for most of it, your throat constricting over all of the warnings and defenses you desperately wanted to spew. Instead, you answered each of Sam’s questions steadily, one word at a time.

“How’d he reach you?”

“Email.”

“And he followed you here?”

“Yeah.”

“So he knows where to find ‘ya if you don’t go to him.”

“Yeah.”

“He’s liable to start a fight?”

“If not him, then me.”

“And he fights dirty?”

“He brings guns to knife fights, let’s put it that way.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?” You turned to him from the passenger seat, your face pinched and twisted in concern. Your teeth worried over the scar on your top lip. Sam’s eyes caught yours, brown gone red with the street light.

“I do.” His shaking fingers tapped against the steering wheel in an awkward, unsteady rhythm. “Better than I can put into words.”

The parking lot outside of Max’s was full this time of night, so Sam parked across the street. You spotted him through the wide, bright windows. Quinn had taken up a booth at the back of the small restaurant. His feet were kicked up on the table, shitty, worn boots smearing dirt across the clean surface. He was flirting with the teenage server who was refilling his coke. She blushed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The guy behind the counter was eyeing the two of them nervously. Anybody who had ever known an asshole before could see right through Quinn if they tried hard enough. That was why he had to flirt with teenagers.

Quinn turned suddenly, stiff and aware. His bright, blue eyes caught yours through the window. His face split out into a terrible, toothy grin as he beckoned you inside.

#redacted asmr #my redacted content #redacted sam #redacted audio #redacted david #redacted darlin #redacted angel #redacted vincent #firefighter story #redacted quinn #redacted guy

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