#but i don't know that i had much else to say?
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lostfracturess · 1 day ago
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words you couldn't hear — satoru gojo
satoru's been hopelessly in love with you for years, but can only confess when you can't hear him. but someday—maybe someday soon—he'll tell you for real.
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"How do these look?" you ask, slipping on a pair of noise-canceling headphones and striking a pose. "Be honest."
Satoru, who's been trailing behind you in the electronics store for the past hour without complaining like the best friend he's always been, looks up from the speaker he's been fiddling with. "You look good in anything."
"No, for real." You turn to check your reflection in a nearby screen. "Do they make my head look bigger? I feel like they make my head look bigger."
He snorts, reaching over to adjust the headband. His fingers brush against your temple, and you try not to think about how many times those same hands have absentmindedly played with your hair during movie nights, or how he still unconsciously reaches for you whenever he laughs too hard, just like he did when you were kids.
"That's what you're concerned about? The size of your head?"
"It's a valid concern."
"Your head is perfectly normal-sized," he assures you, his fingers lingering perhaps a moment too long as he fixes the fit. "Though I suppose all that overthinking has to go somewhere—"
You shoot him a look, but there's no heat behind it. Fifteen years of friendship has made you immune to his teasing — well, mostly immune.
You're not quite immune to the way your pulse quickens when he's standing this close, or how he still smells like that same cologne he's worn since high school, the one you helped him pick out for his first date with someone else while ignoring the weird ache in your chest.
"I really need good ones for studying," you say, checking the price tag. "My roommate talks way too much."
Satoru winces at the price. "Expensive. But they're supposedly the best."
"Worth every penny if they can block out her ramblings." You adjust the fit, immediately noticing how they muffle the noise of the shop. "Oh wow, these are actually incredible. Say something so I can test them properly."
"What should I say?"
You arch an eyebrow at him. "Anything. Just need to check if they work."
His expression shifts then, melting into something tender as his lips move. Even though you can't hear the words, something about the gentle way he's looking at you makes your heart flutter strangely in your chest.
"These are perfect!" you say, pulling them off, trying to ignore the way your pulse has picked up. "I couldn't hear you at all. What did you say?"
Satoru leans against the display counter, chin propped in his hand as he watches you fiddle with the headphone cord, a fond smile playing at his lips. "Nothing really," he murmurs, but there's something soft in his expression, something unguarded that makes your heart skip.
You pause, catching the way he's looking at you — like you're something precious, something more than just his best friend of fifteen years. "Satoru?" you say softly.
He seems to catch himself then, straightening abruptly as a flush creeps up his neck. "Ah, yes. Should we, uh." His voice comes out slightly strangled. "Should we get these paid for? Before they close?"
"The store closes in two hours."
"Better safe than sorry." He's already heading for the checkout, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste.
What you don't know — what you couldn't hear through those noise-canceling headphones — were three words he's been trying to say for years. Three words that slipped out so easily when he knew you couldn't hear them, when the safety of silence gave him the courage he's never had before.
"I love you."
Simple. Honest. Everything he's wanted to tell you since he was seventeen and realized his best friend was the love of his life. Everything he's been too afraid to say, too afraid to risk losing you.
But for now, those words remain caught in the space between silence and sound, in the safety of a moment you couldn't hear. Maybe one day he'll find the courage to say them again, when you can actually hear him.
Maybe one day soon.
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© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.
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anonymous-existences · 3 days ago
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DCxDP Prompt 15 :
Danny/Wes idea, Demon Sibs Combined into it.
Short prompt and vague stuff. If I had to motivation I'll do some continuation to it but picture this.
DanyalDanny knows he's adopted, always had known especially since he was adopted as the Fenton's were out and about looking for ghosts back when he was merely 6, they found him all battered and bloodied up and immediately took him in as their own, Jazz was very pleased with a new little brother and she became her reason to stay and purpose to protect.
The Fentons aren't the best but they loved Danny, Danny could say the same as he was shocked to see their reactions when he first called them 'Mom' and 'Dad'. They burst into tears and pulled Danny into a love filled bear hug, Danny could say it was the most love he has ever felt.
But Danny, he would never talk about his past, no, no, he claimed amnesia. He felt subtle guilt when he lied about it but now it felt insignificant to worry about, after becoming a Halfa due to the portal accident, he found himself in the middle of simping A-listers and a conspiracy theorist who immediately clocked him upon sight(how did he do that??).
Wes Weston always had the affinity of finding out someone's identity behind a mask, he always voiced out these thoughts knowing no one would believe him but at times it can still get pretty annoying. Danny Fenton caught his eye, he never paid attention to the boy but he kept a secret tab on him, the way he walked felt stuff and subtly regal, the way he talked had a hidden southeast accent(?) that Wes couldn't pinpoint where came from.
Considering the Fact that Danny was adopted... Completely out of nowhere, the Fenton's picked up a boy from somewhere in the world and adopted him without question but Wes doesn't think that's suspicious since the Fentons ARE the Fentons after all.
What kept his tabs, and everything else come to life is when Phantom appeared, Kyle Weston, his brother refused to help and exempted himself from Wes's spiraling Theories piling up.
Wes immediately clocked Phantom as Danny, It's too obvious for Christ's sake, Fenton? PHANTOM? It was so original and unoriginal at the same time, Wes still forced his brother to listen and at some point Wes noticed Dash stopped bullying Danny after having Dash listen through Wes's Theoretical Rant.
Dash and Kyle want nothing to do with Danny, they don't have him, they just suspect Wes is secretly gay and his love language is comparing his crush to the awesome town vigilante ghost.
Everything is as normal as everyday until the GIW found out about Danny's identity, The Fenton Parents and Jazz weren't there when they took Danny away for 'Examination'. So Wes did what any normal person would do, pull out the exact blueprint and hidden passageway of The GIW Facility Base and Bust Danny out of there without getting the already wounded and partially open boy even more injured and in pain.
The Fenton parents did everything they could do to hide Danny as soon as they got home after Wes had contacted them somehow, they love their baby boy so much, He's their Danny, their Daniel, their Phantom.
Wes dragged Kyle into the mess, Not that Kyle had any options and thus. With the help of Jazz who was in Gotham for college, The Fenton Parents stayed behind to keep the GIW in Amity, And Wes along with his Begrudgingly Dragged Along Older Brother Kyle, Is heading to Gotham.
Did Danny anticipate that Wes and Kyle both have truth altering possibly also Reality Warping curse that they bend to their will, but then again sometimes they're too stupid and too human to use these curses to their advantage.
They arrived in Gotham and at first everything was Normal, Danny became the Handyman of their free and he'd fix anything for food and any of the sort. Especially candies for children who wanted their toys fixed, Wes was the weird quiet one who was deemed tough on the outside, soft on the inside because of how oddly kind he still was despite his first impressions.
Kyle was the chill one who was denser than rock in most occasions and jazz was the oldest one who was raising them(along with Kyle) as well as pursuing psychology.
Now here comes more of the DC part :
Wes starts to theorize about the bats, same old same old, Danny listens to them intently as Wes makes pretty good points about the identities(Except Bruce Wayne as Batman, cuz that guys a Total Himbo Billionare.)
Danny and Robin meet by pure coincidence. Danny recognizes him immediately, Damian impulsively taking off his mask and charging at Danny, Both knew they were not Clones of each other and Danny comes home with an unmasked Robin and not any of them feels that this is something out of place.
Going as far as serving Damian a plate of food and Danny introducing the Weston Siblings and Jazz. Jazz immediately mentally adopting Damian because he's her baby brother Twin thus he's just another little chick of hers.
For a while Robin takes time to have dinner on their house, Alfred obviously instantly notices but doesn't mention it Infront of others but merely tells Damian to stay safe and eat well.
The Batfam slowly notice the change of demeanor, Damian slowly getting less aggresive and acting softer and perhaps a tad bit too innocent like for their comfort, they finally follow him to the place he frequents and sneaks off to every night and they see him take off his mask and hug someone who's the exact replica of him, just blue eyes.
They see him drop his guard and become comfortable by their small dining table that fits 5 perfectly. If it weren't for his current costume at the time then he would have looked like a normal civilian boy.
Shenanigans Ensue. You guys can take it from here ✨
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strangeaxel · 4 hours ago
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I hate BPD so much, i hate it so much, i just want it to stop being like this.
I'll just go to sleep maybe I'll dream something nice but my god i hate my brain so much I don't even know who i am or what i need, i just want to feel okay i feel like im never enough for anyone. Im just tired and scared,ni hate how life isn't like the movies, i want my life to be a big fiction where im the protagonist, i watch movies and series and i just feel so much jealousy.
I wonder where my friends are, i wonder where my parents are. I wonder where's that childhood I've always wanted. I know I only have one chance to be alive and this is what i get? Remembering my childhood with a 8 year old me begging my mom to kill me bc i didn't want to keep being alive, i just wanted life to end at the tender age of 8 years old and my mom only laughed at me. And my dad doesn't even love me, he never did, i hate him so much as much as he hates me or even more. Idk what to do.
I ain't no perfect human, I'll never be as im sick since i was born and everywhere ill go I'll disgust everyone. Idk what to do anymore. I just want this suffering to stop. Talking isn't useful either, i just want some lovely arms to rest on and feel like I'm in the home i never had.
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I hate to know how tough it is to have someone with mental illness as your friend or family, i hate to know im a burden and i hate to know that nobody will actually relate to any of my interests. The world should have stopped in 2015. i envy people that have friends and still do that bullshit of "no, im fine" and say internally "oh i love them, they're so lovely but I'll just keep quiet so i don't bother them" and their friends and family would die to know their state, selfish bullshit, i know you're sad and all but where tf did you get that idea??! I literally would die for your situation. My lord. I wish i could just have what you have. I wish i was skinny, i wish i was innocent, i wish i was a kid again and stop everything that's coming to me, i wish i had born somewhere else, i wish i wasn't me, i wish my brain wasn't like this, i wish nobody hated me, i wish i didn't hate everyone, i wish i could live, i wish my dad love me, i wish my family love me, i wish everyone love me, i wish i was a good person, i wish i was somewhere else.
I won't accept im 20 next year, I won't accept my life is ruined, I won't accept i am still alive.
I wanna be an idle teen. Something i couldn't even do. Im that autistic girl that died in her couch, that's me, it's just that nobody know it, nobody knows my parents don't care enough, nobody knows i drop off school bc of bullying and depression at 13 and that i rot in my bed.
The whole, "K*lling urself is a permanent solution to a temporary problem" bullshit is spouted by the ignorant lucky ones who have only had temporary problems. Some people's problems are permanent so maybe try offering actual help and support to them rather than regurgitating an overused phrase that means nothing to people with real struggles.
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beanarie · 2 days ago
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of course
in which the helicopter crashed with both our guys inside. inspired by this awesome post by @mooshkat
(tw: vomiting, heart issues, near death angst, biphobia mention)
~
Once the wave of agony subsides, and Tommy is reasonably sure he's done vomiting into the dirt, he blinks over at Evan appraisingly. "Is your arm broken or did your shoulder go out again?"
Evan grimaces and finishes tying off Tommy's splint. "Shoulder. And my hip's not feeling great. Cracked rib, maybe two. But of course you had to outdo me."
"Didn't do it on purpose." Tommy glares at the spot where his tibia poked through the skin, like he can intimidate the pain away. "Anyway you've got me on quantity."
"There's nothing else?"
"My head hurts," Tommy admits, "but there's not much we can do for that right now."
Evan leans in to compare his pupils. Tommy is very proud of himself for not flinching. "Dispatch had our location?" Evan asks, and instead of reminding him that he was there when they confirmed it, Tommy nods.
He knows he can't go to sleep, even if the leg would allow him. He finds a stick and starts tic tac toe. Evan chuckles and joins in.
He wins the next two games. Tommy blames his probable concussion.
Evan holds his bad arm tight around his midsection, but his eyes seem stormy for a different reason. "These people who hurt you in the past, what- what are their names?"
"Huh?" Tommy gives up on the game, scratching it out of the dirt. "You want a full list of legal names or just what I called them?"
"Was it Evan, for any of them?"
God, he's so transparent. Tommy laughs.
"Do you- do you judge everyone by who came before? Is that just what you do in a-all situations? One barista spilled coffee on you in 2011 and you pay for Starbucks with one of those grabby reacher things ever since?"
"Fuck's sake." Tommy doesn't even like Starbucks, but he doesn't say that.
Evan sort of shrugs before he remembers his shoulder with a wince. "It's not generally considered a sign of maturity. Ironic, I guess."
"Yeah, call me old. See where it gets you."
Evan brightens. "You're talking to me. I like my results so far."
There's something indefatigable about this man. Tommy can't help but surrender in the face of it, just a little. "How did you know I'd have to pinch hit for this fly along?"
"I didn't. I just hoped." His grin is just the slightest bit abashed. "Worst case scenario, get out of the engine for a day and I pump one of your coworkers for info."
"They have very little to pump," Tommy says. Evan and the codependent 118 are the aberration, and they're well aware of that. Tommy has great coworkers. They do their jobs and leave, with the exception of drinks once or twice a month. None of them gave him shit after the breakup. Few of them noticed. This is how most teams operate. Evan, however, looks surprised and a little sad. "What were you hoping to hear?"
"I don't know." Evan looks away, suddenly self conscious. "That you messed yourself up at least half as much as you did me."
Tommy rubs at his face. "I didn't mean to mess you up, Buck. Truly. We- It just ran its course. It doesn't reflect badly on you, or me. This just happens."
He looks upset at first, then calculating. "What if I hooked up with those Not-Evans?"
Tommy looks behind him, searching for something that makes sense. "What if you moved to the moon? I have no idea what you're getting at right now."
"Would I be experienced enough for you if I let them have a go? They were terrible for you, so it stands to reason they'll be terrible for me, too." He lifts a finger, his eyes lighting up in a way that turns Tommy's stomach. "Oh, I guess one or two of those might be women. They don't count. Some might be bi and married to women. Do they count as half? If I bag a threesome, is that like seventy-five percent? Do you give points for polyamory?"
Tommy feels about eighty years old, and not a fit eighty. "When did I say even one of those things?"
"The implications were pretty clear, Tommy. 'You're just young and excited. You don't know what you're feeling or how to interpret anything going on in front of you.'"
Tommy doesn't know what to say to that. It's not remotely what he meant, but he's never been good at communicating through panic.
"Did you love me?" Evan asks quietly. Tommy can't look him in the face. "It felt like you- like you did, but when you let me go like that, like chopping off the top bit of a carrot, it made me re- reevaluate everything I thought I knew about us."
The note of devastation in his voice almost tips him over, but ultimately what does it is the implication that Tommy made Evan lose faith in himself. He can't abide being responsible for that. "Of course I love you, Evan. How could I not?"
The tightness in his chest, that felt so much like raw emotion, intensifies, growing sharper. It's hard to breathe now, like sucking a milkshake through a coffee stirrer, and he realizes, something is very wrong. About as wrong as it could possibly be.
"Oh," he says. An attempt to inflate his lungs all the way makes his vision go sparkly at the edges.
"Tommy?"
Tommy drags his eyes up to meet Evan's. "S- Sorry, I-" I wouldn't have said any of those things if I knew. "Sorry. Evan." You deserve better than a fucking deathbed love confession.
A rough hand grasps his neck, slowing his descent to the ground. "No, hey. Hey hey hey. Tommy, we'll figure this out." Evan sniffles and tries to smile. His tears are falling everywhere. "You're okay. You're fine. Just keep- keep breathing."
The coffee stirrer is about a millimeter wide. Tommy can feel the muscles in his neck straining like he's deadlifting his own weight. Evan rips Tommy's shirt open and he swears floridly, miserably. They both know what this is; they've seen it in a hundred MVAs. Cardiac tamponade. When his heart gives out from the strain of all the blood surrounding it, chest compressions can be worse than useless. They could punch his ticket that much faster.
"Tommy," Evan says, pulling Tommy into his lap. The complaints from his splinted leg are distant, belonging to someone else entirely. Evan's voice is a ragged mess trying to piece itself together. His shoulder and ribs are probably killing him. "Don't run out again. You need to stay. Breathe."
Half a millimeter.
One quarter.
Tommy can't remember what comes after millimeter.
"That's it. I know it's hard, but keep trying. That's all I ask. Just try, okay? Look at me."
Micrometer? Is that it?
Evan's face is shadowed by the sun cresting over his shoulder. Tommy closes his eyes against the glare and is rewarded with a shake.
"Keep your eyes open. Stay with me. Just a little- little bit longer, please."
Fingers are running through his hair, lips are pressing against his forehead, and he thinks he can hear... sirens.
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buck-star · 2 days ago
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Bucky’s babydoll | B.B
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>> Your best friend gives you a present that makes clear who you belong to, to your best friend, Bucky. <<
Pairing: BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x BestFriend!Fem!Reader
Wordcount: 2.934 Words
Warnings: Minors DNI, 18+, best friends to lovers, fluff, collar, smut [daddykink, oral (m!rec), deepthroating, spitting, ball worship, praises], aftercare, love confession
Authors Note: Dividers made by me.
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
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His ocean blue eyes roam over your smaller frame, a smile tugging at his lips as he tilts his head back to look into your face. Bucky is currently sitting on his bed while you present one outfit after another to him — you were shopping, and now your best friend has to tell you if he likes the outfits or not. He nods, leaning back and resting on his forearms, smirking at you.
“You know, you always look pretty. In a dress, in a hoodie, with bun or without,” Bucky says, his beautiful eyes light up when you twirl in front of him to show him the back of the dress you're wearing. You giggle and turn back to face your boyfriend; you take a step closer, towering above him, and grin down at Bucky.
“I have one more outfit for you to rate for me, oke?” You ask, making your best puppy eyes because you know that Bucky will do everything for you then — even though he would do it anyway, for you he would collect stars just to make you happy.
He nods, pushing himself up while he watches you leave the room to change into another outfit. The spark in his eyes he always has when he looks at you doesn't fade away when he gets lost in his thoughts; it only grows because the only thought that makes sense in his mind is about you. Bucky is in love with you forever already; when you moved in with him, it didn't take long for him to stop dating someone else and try to be as close as possible to you. You've been his best friend since the two of you were small kids, but his feelings only grew with the years.
The brown-haired man told his mom when he was around five that he was going to marry you one day, that he would be the one who makes you happy and the one who loves you the most — little did she know that he really meant it and that the feelings the kid had only turned into love over the years.
Bucky hates when you go out with your friends to parties, but he knows that it makes you happy, and luckily, you often ask him to join you. You don't date anyone either, which gives him hope that you could maybe be in love with him just as much as he is in love with you.
Little does Bucky know that you feel the same for him, that you’re craving his touch, his love, and that you would prefer sleeping in his bed every night with his strong arms wrapped around you instead of sleeping on your own. The blanket wrapped around was not even close to Bucky's warmth and his scent that you love so much. You even watch movies you hate and scare you because that's the easiest way to explain to Bucky why you need to sleep next to him and why he has to hold you close — to protect you from the dragons and other monsters from the movies.
“Bucky, you ready?” You ask, walking through the door. The moment his eyes catch you, his jaw drops open, and he struggles to sit still. The blood rushes into his cock within seconds, and a low groan leaves his plump lips. “Do you like it?”
Your grin tells your best friend everything he has to know; he knows you're teasing him. But did you know that you would get such a reaction from him? “Fuck, babydoll. Never seen someone as sweet and sexy as you before. But you— you can’t just wear that,” he growls, reaching his arms out for you.
You walk a step closer, letting Bucky place his big hands at your waist and pulling you into his lap, your legs dangling on both sides of his while he pulls you closer to his chest. Bucky's cock is pressing hard against his sweatpants; when he pulls you closer, your crotch rubs over his bulge, and he groans, causing a needy whine to slip past your lips.
“Such a tease, walking around with my hoodie and just panties underneath. You know what you're doing to me, don't you? Making me so hard, babydoll,” he growls, leaning forward until his nose brushes along your neck, his lips moving over sensitive skin, and you start thrusting your hips against his hard cock.
“D-Daddy, please,” you whine. Bucky's eyes widen before he smiles even wider. You never called anyone that before, but around Bucky you feel safe and cared for, plus his size makes you feel so small always, but he never uses his size to scare or force you — only to curl you into him and hold you close while his big body is wrapped around you, making sure nothing can scare or hurt you.
“Mhm, say that again, babydoll,” he grumbles. “You know, I bought something for you... I wasn’t sure if you would like it, but now I’m pretty sure. When I give it to you, you’re mine.”
You whine, nodding your head. Right now, you would agree with everything he says as long as he helps you with the aching feeling between your thighs. “W-what is it?”
He chuckles, his big hands moving up and down your sides. “Close your eyes,” he says, waiting until you do it. Then he reaches over to his bedside table to pull something out of the drawer.
With a soft hum, you feel his hands around your neck, something cool as well, as a soft click almost makes you open your eyes, but you try to keep them closed to make your best friend proud of you.
“Okay, you can open your eyes now, doll,” he says, his lips so close to your ear that you shiver. You slowly blink. Bucky smirks at you, his eyes staring into yours. “You look pretty, all of you. Now everyone knows you’re mine, babydoll.”
He takes his phone, smirking at you. You do the same, smiling at your best friend as he takes a photo and turns his phone to show you. Your eyes widen as you notice the collar around your neck; it’s pretty, your favorite color, and something is written on it. ‘Bucky’s babydoll,’ it says, and you grin at him, leaning forward to place your forehead against Bucky’s.
“It’s perfect; thank you, daddy,” you say. Your eyes light up with excitement when you stroke the fabric with your small fingers, sighing softly. You grin at your best friend, pulling him onto the bed, and slide down in front of the bed, looking up at Bucky with widened eyes, looking all innocent while you crawl in between your best friend's legs.
“Whatcha doin’ there, babygirl?” He asks, looking down with a wide smirk across his plump lips. You bring your hands to his thick thighs, slowly inching closer to his clothed cock with a smile. His ocean blue eyes roaming over your face, down to your collarbone, and along your arms to your hands, which are dangerously close to his crotch. “Babydoll?”
You don’t respond to him, just moving your hands as slowly as possible until your fingertips slip over the growing bulge in his pants. Bucky grasps your wrists with his big hands, pressing them down on his thigh while he looks at you with narrowed eyes.
“What are you doing? Tell me, what do you want to do?” Bucky knows exactly what you’re doing and what your intentions are, but he wants to hear it from you. He wants your permission, your assurance that you really know what you do instead of doing it because he gave you the collar and uses this moment to 'thank him'.
“P-please… w-want your cock, Bucky,” you whimper, tilting your head to the side and looking up at Bucky. Your head rests against his thigh as he smiles down at you, one hand removing from yours and slowly moving up your arm again to your cheek.
“Yeah? You want daddy’s cock?” He asks, and you immediately nod. Then he nods, letting go of your other hand too, and unbuckles his belt. “Then you have to lean back, babydoll, or else I can’t give you what you’re asking for.”
You do as you’re told, leaning back to let your best friend get up and take off his pants and boxer briefs. His leaking cock springs free, and you lick your lips, staring at the huge length and the prominent vein running along his shaft.
“Like what you see?” Bucky smirks at you, sitting back down, earning a nod from you as an answer to his question. Bucky grasps a pillow from his bed. He taps your thighs to get slightly up, giving him the opportunity to push the pillow between the floor and your knees. “Don’t want my best girl to get sore knees while she sucks daddy’s cock, huh?”
You shake your head, eyes still focused on Bucky’s cock. He chuckles, sitting up straight, and runs his hands through your hair, tilting your head back.
“Be daddy’s good girl; get what you need so bad.” His soft voice makes you almost melt, but you manage to get out a soft 'yes, daddy’. Your fingers trailing along his thick thighs once again until you reach his cock.
You wrap your fingers around his shaft, slowly moving your hand up and down. With your thumb, you collect some pre-cum and use it as a lubricant to make your movements easier. Bucky groans, watching you intensely with his blue orbs.
“Good girl! Doing so well for Daddy, yeah, such a good fucking girl,” he praises, his fingers curling around your strands, pulling at your hair softly. You moan, lowering your head above his cock, and kiss the tip of his dick.
Bucky throws his head back as your soft lips touch his sensitive tip. Your tongue is grazing over the slit, and you moan against him, sending vibrations through him. His fingers tightening in your hair, tugging softly on them.
“That’s it, good girl!” Bucky mumbles, watching you as you take him into your mouth. Your warm, wet mouth is taking his sensitive length slowly deeper, causing your best friend to turn into a groaning and panting mess. “You look pretty like that, with my cock in your mouth. Taking me so well, babydoll.”
You take more and more of his cock into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat when you’re a bit more than halfway into your mouth. A soft gag comes from you, and Bucky pulls you immediately away, tilting your head back to look into your face.
Tears well up in your eyes, your chin coated in your saliva, and his pre-cum and Bucky can’t help but groan at the way you look. Your eyes widen, and your lips form into a soft pout as you try to pull forward to get his cock back into your mouth, but Bucky's grip is firm to hold you in place.
“Daddy, please,” you whine. He shakes his head, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, and you unconsciously part your lips. Bucky smirks, collecting some saliva in his mouth before he spits it into yours, grinning as you immediately swallow down and part them again for him to spit into your mouth once again. He spits into your mouth again, chuckling as you sigh happily. “Thank you, daddy.”
“Always, now don’t push too far; I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, oke?” Bucky slides his thumb once again over your lips, waiting for you to answer, but he only gets a pout from you. He can’t help but to lean forward, capturing your lips with his, moving his lips softly against yours to get the pout off your lips.
As the two of you pull away, you’re panting softly, then nodding. “C-can I try to take your cool deep down my throat? P-please?” Your puppy eyes make it hard for him to say no, so he nods but holds you still firmly in place.
“But you tap my thigh if it’s too much. If you want to stop and you don’t try to do more as you feel comfortable to make me proud, oke? I’m proud of you; you don’t have to take my cock completely for that, babydoll,” he tells you the conditions.
“Yes, daddy!” With that, he loosens his grip and lets you lean forward to his cock once again. You take him almost halfway down your throat; just before you would gag around him, you stop and take a moment to breathe. You look up at your best friend with a pleading look, asking him to help you.
Bucky inhales deeply; your mouth feels perfect around him, and he wonders how your pussy would feel around him and how much you would squeeze him there. He smiles softly at you, his fingers gripping your hair tightly once more. “Remember, tap my thigh if it’s too much. And breathe through your nose; it helps. You can also take my balls in one of your hands, softly, but to steady yourself a bit.”
You nod as much as possible with his dick in your mouth, smirking a bit before tapping his thigh to show him that you understand. He then inhales deeply once again and pushes you down his throat, groaning loudly as he feels the tightness around his huge shaft.
You gag once again, trying to breathe your nose while you dig your fingers into his thighs to steady yourself. You would love to feel his balls; they look so big and heavy, but you don’t want to squeeze him too much.
Bucky holds your head in place, giving you a moment to get used to his size in your throat before pushing you further down and then letting go, so you can move your head on your own. His pants and groans are music to your ears, chasing shivers to run down your spine, and the aching between your thighs gets worse, but his dick is just too good to not suck him off.
You move your head slowly, twirling your tongue around the tip as you let his cock slide almost completely out of your mouth before you take him down your throat and move your tongue around the underside of his shaft. You bring your hand to his balls, kneading and rolling them in your palm. Bucky throws his head back, his plump lips parting and breathy moans leaving his lips.
“You’re feeling so good; your throat feels so fucking good, babydoll. Doing’ so well for me, so fucking well,” he mumbles, thrusting his hips up and your nose pressing against his pelvis. You smirk around his length, inhaling deeply and swallowing thickly shortly after, causing Bucky’s eyes to widen and his hips to buck once again. “So tight, feels so fucking good.”
You swallow once again, feeling his cock twitch in your throat, and without warning he is coming down your throat, letting you swallow all of his cum. Bucky pants, sweat running down his forehead as he pushes you away, tilting your head up.
“‘m so sorry. You were feeling so fucking good, couldn’t help myself, had to come down your throat, sorry,” he says, his fingers trialing along your cheek and jaw to your lips. You grin at him, licking your lips; you don’t mind that he came into your mouth, not at all. His cum is salty and musky on your lips, and you can get enough of it.
He leans forward, kissing you. You immediately kiss him back, fingers digging into his thighs. He tastes himself on your tongue, growling. “Now, get up on the bed, and let Daddy make you feel good. You were so good for me, babydoll. Making me feel so good.”
“B-Bucky, I-I can’t,” you mumble, leaning your head against his thigh once more and sliding your fingers up and down his soft skin. His cock twitches the closer your fingers move toward it, and you smile softly. Bucky narrows his eyes, looking with confusion written all over his face. “I- you’re my best friend, and I do love you; I’m in love with you, but if you see or touch me down there, it’s- if you don’t love me back, you know?”
“But I love you, babydoll, more than everything,” Bucky says, looking straight into your eyes. “Do you think I gave you the collar because I just want to be your best friend? No, because I love you, I want you to be mine, if you want to be mine.”
You nod, smiling. “I-I want to be yours, but only if you’re mine then too!”
“Of course, I am yours as much as you’re mine, doll,” he says, chuckling before leaning down and kissing you. “Now, get on the bed, and let me make you feel good; then I will mark you, all of you. And after we can do whatever you want, cuddles, cooking, showering, whatever you want else, another round, more than one round, you just have to ask. ‘Cause you’re Daddy’s good girl, and you only have to ask, and I will collect stars for you. Because I love you!”
“I love you too, Buck!" You giggle as you get on the bed, making it comfortable, and Bucky gets out of his shirt before placing himself between your legs to finally get his snack before he is going to make you his and mark you in his bites, kisses, and cum.
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Taglist: @pono-pura-vida @sergeantbarnessdoll @rogersbarber @kimmie113080 @sebastianstanisahotmf
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helenofsparta2 · 2 days ago
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Having the whole plot between Nico and Percy be resolved simply with “You’re not my type” in Blood of Olympus was such a huge disservice to both characters
They are pivotal parts to each others journey. No person in PJO influenced Nico as much as Percy did, aside from Bianca, and no person represents Percy’s guilt and the responsibility he had to shoulder more than Nico does. The writing for both characters really suffers through this lack of a real satisfying resolution.
First to talk about what Percy represents for Nico:
Percy, first of all, represents Nico’s introduction to the mythological world
He is the first demigod Nico ever came in contact with
He saved him and Bianca from the manticore (somewhat)
Nico stated in Blood of Olympus than Percy had reminded of the heroes of his mythomagic game come to life
Nico wholeheartedly believed that Bianca would be safe, if Percy was with her and created this image of the perfect hero in his mind, putting Percy on a pedestal
2.
In Nico’s mind Percy is irrevocably intertwined with Bianca and everything that happened to her
Despite Nico naively believing, that Bianca would be safe if Percy were around, he was instead the last person to ever talk to her, and present when she died
Percy informed Nico of her death (Dead silence. I stared at Chiron. I couldn’t believe nobody had told him yet. Then I realized why. They’d been waiting for us to appear, to tell Nico in person, Titan’s curse)
Nico turned him into the scapegoat for her death, so that he could let all his grief and anger and bitterness out on him
Bianca sent Iris-messages to Percy, so that he would find and help Nico (“Percy has been worried about you, Nico. He can help. I let him see what you were up to, hoping he would find you.”, Battle of the Labyrinth)
Her ghost only appeared to Nico when Percy was with him
Percy is the only person Nico knows of, who also grieved for Bianca (“Bianca,” I said. My voice was thick. I’d felt guilty about her death for a long time but seeing her in front of me was five times as bad, like her death was fresh and new. I remembered searching through the wreckage of the giant bronze warrior she’d sacrificed her life to defeat, and not finding any sign of her. “I’m so sorry,” I said. Battle of the Labyrinth)
3.
Percy is the person who protected and cared for Nico more than anyone else in pjo
Tried to convince Bianca to think more deeply about her decision of joining the hunters, especially thinking of him (“Biance, this is crazy,” I said. “What about your brother? Nico can’t be a hunter.” (Titan’s curse)
Searched the woods in the dark for hours after he had disappeared (Annabeth and Grover helped me search the woods for hours, but there was no sign of Nico di Angelo.)
Didn’t tell Chiron about Nico’s parentage to protect him from the Gods. (I don't think Nico understands who he is. But we can't go telling anyone. Not even Chiron. If the Olympians find out—") Titan’s curse)
Decided to completely commit to the prophecy, solely so Nico didn’t have to bear that burden and go trough any more suffering(It was the last thing I wanted, but I didn't say that. I knew I had to step up and claim it. "I can't let Nico be in any more danger," I said. "I owe that much to his sister. I… let them both down. I'm not going to let that poor kid suffer any more." ) Titan’s curse)
Searched for Nico in the months after Titan’s Curse (Now, six months later, I hadn’t even come close to finding him. It left a bitter taste in my mouth. Battle of the labyrinth, chapter 3))
Saved his life on Geryon’s farm. (“Either way, you get my friends,” I said. “But, if I succeed, you’ve got to let all of us go, including Nico.”)
Always offered Nico a place at camp half-blood to the best of his abilities (“We missed you at dinner,” I said. “You could’ve sat with me.”“No.”“Nico, you can’t miss every meal. If you don’t want to stay with Hermes, maybe they can make an exception and put you in the big house. They’ve got plenty of room.”, Battle of the Labyrinth)
Invited him to join him on his birthday (“Is that… is that blue birthday cake?”He sounded hungry, maybe a little wistful. I wondered if the poor kid had ever had a birthday party, or if he’d ever been invited to one. “Come inside for cake and ice cream,” I said. “It sounds like we’ve got a lot to talk about.”, Battle of the Labyrinth)
Reminded him that he was still a child (I smiled. “Maybe it’s okay to still be a kid once in a while.” I tossed him the statue, Battle of the Labyrinth)
Helped him to get the sword of hades back to impress his father (Then I looked at Nico. Unfortunately, I recognised the expression on his face. I knew what it was like wanting to make your dad proud, even if your dad was hard to love., Sword of hades)
Acknowledged everything Nico did in The last Olympian and is one of the main reasons why Hades has a cabin at camp. ( “But your children should not be left out. They should have a cabin at camp. Nico has proven that.”)
4.
Percy was Nico’s first, and after Will, his biggest love
Nico had feelings for Percy, which didn’t leave him for around 2 1/2 years, and accompanied him throughout the most challenging parts of his life. 
Feelings, which were so deep, the god of love personally acknowledged them.
Favonius even called Percy, the person Nico cares about most in House of Hades.
This was more than just a mere crush
Percy is so completely intertwined with most aspects of Nico’s character arc, in both PJO and Hoo, be it his feeling of ostracism, his relationship to Bianca or him coming to term with his own sexuality, that them not having a final interaction, makes his writing feel shallow and unfinished. Especially Nico coming to terms with his crush on Percy opens up the opportunity for a really heartwarming conversation and a moment of character growth and maturity for both of them, instead of it being wasted on one throw-away line.
And it’s the same the other way around. Nico is also a huge part of Percy’s journey.
He especially represents Percy’s biggest failure.
The first five Percy Jackson books are characterized by Percy having to take up responsibility and him being afraid of not being able to fulfill them. Be it responsibility for camp, the world, Bianca’s death, the prophecy, his friends, teh unclaimed demigods, or everything else. Most of the time, Percy was able to make sure everything turned out fine. He saved camp, he saved Olympus, he finished his quests, made the right decision for the prophecy, and he made the gods swear upon teh styx. But there’s one exception. And that is Nico.
Percy did everything in his power to make sure Nico would be spared any more hardships. He took up the burden of the prophecy, explicitly, so that Nico doesn’t have to go through any more hardships
He searched for him after Titan’s curse, kept his identity a secret and even risked himself, Annabeth, Grover and Tyson dying if it meant saving Nico
Still, Nico is one of the characters, if not the character, who has suffered the most in PJO and Hoo, even partly because of Percy (though, of course, Nico having a crush on him was not Percy’s fault at all)
He lived alone at 11 years old on the streets and in the labyrinth, while getting manipulated by an ancient evil spirit
He was isolated and ostracized at camp half-blood
He experienced the horrors of Tartarus completely on his own
He got captured by the giants and slowly suffocated to death in a small jar
He had to deal with internalized homophobia and his complicated feelings regarding Percy
He has been a vital part of two wars at only 15 years old
Had to admit his crush involuntarily in front of Jason, etc.  
One of the things Percy battles with in Heroes of Olympus is this overwhelming sense of guilt. He blames himself for almost everything that went wrong over the last few years. Be it for Iapetus, Calypso, or especially Nico. Having Percy acknowledge this complicated relationship he has with him during House of Hades, but not allowing the two of them to talk it out is genuinely baffling to me, and one of the (albeit many) reasons why I really don’t like most of Percy’s writing during Heroes of Olympus, despite the fact that he is my favourite character by far. This could have led to a moment of character growth, where Nico helps Percy to aknowledge that he feels guilty for things he had little to no control over, while Nico himself realizes how important he actually is to Percy.
They are also so similar in terms of who they are and what they’ve been through, that even if you ignore their history with each other, it seems insane, that they didn’t interact in any meaningful way:  
Both were ostracized at camp half-blood because of their parentage, and so far are the only two half-bloods we know of with that experience
They are (together with Hazel) the most powerful demigods in the Riordan verse, and have feats which far surpass anyone else’s
Both are in some way afraid of their powers
Both went through Tartarus
Both have relatively similar relationships to their godly parents
Both have gone through immense trauma and loss
And if you read heroes of Olympus, it actually very much seems to build towards a final resolution of their relationship
Percy and Nico were, aside from Frank, the two people closest to Hazel; both saw her as a little sister, and Hazel treated them both like her brothers
Nico was the first person Percy met from his old life
Percy was the one, who received the visions of Nico being captured
From everyone present, Percy trusted Nico to lead the others to Greece in his moment of greatest desperation
They both had introspections about the other in house of Hades, Nico having to deal with his crush and Percy with his guilt in Tartarus
But, in the end, after they met again, nothing happened. The only scene we really got was the “You’re not my type” line and Percy being surprised by it for a couple seconds. That’s it.
We saw no meaningful conversation between the two of them, no acknowledgement of what they’ve been through together, no lasting feelings. Nothing.
In regards to their relationship, Percy acknowledging everything that Nico has been through led to nothing. Nico acknowledging his feelings for Percy and finally letting go of this pedestal he had placed him on led to nothing. You could argue that their entire relationship, which has been built up since Titan’s curse led to nothing. And considering that they are so important characters for each of their character arcs, their characterization very much suffers from this writing decision.
The two of them, together with Hazel, are my three favourite Riordan verse characters by a long shot, but some very important aspects of both of their characters fall so flat to me through this lack of a satisfying resolution.
 Both of them deserved so much better.  
They are the friendship with the most missed potential in the entirety of the Riordan verse and probably the most fleshed out and nuanced relationship Rick ever wrote.
R.I.P.  Nico di Angelo, and Percy Jackson, you will always be brothers in my mind.
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alchemistc · 1 day ago
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Buck's halfway through his third cup of startlingly bad coffee when Josh pushes the door to the breakroom open, looking mildly concerned in the half second before someone else looms over his shoulder.
He's too numb to do much more than take another sip of coffee as he watches Josh usher Tommy in.
The door clicks shut behind him. Buck wonders for a moment if Tommy's ever actually been to the new dispatch headquarters before. If he ever went to the old one, charming grin on his face while he waited for Abby to finish up so he could take her out, drive her home while her car was in the shop - but no, Tommy would have worked on it himself, maybe.
Had Josh recognized him, that first time, with half of his soot on Buck's face, and just never said anything?
The silence is tense. They're in a fishbowl, no room to lash out even if either of them wanted to because more than half the people working in this place can see them if they just tip their head to the side.
"How can I help?"
It's - his voice is strained, scared, worried. Buck doesn't have a single guess as to how he knows. Maybe Bobby. It's the only person he can think of who would have -.
Buck snorts. "I rebounded with a serial killer who just kidnapped my sister and my baby niece or nephew. I don't - I'm not sure what you want."
He glances up just in time to see the end of Tommy's grimace. Good. He's not sure how much more disastrous of a choice he could have made to try to get Tommy out of his system, but at least it hurts him to know. At least...
"Do you want me to go?"
Buck can't remember anyone asking, before. Usually they just... leave. Get up, walk out, disappear. Tommy bubbled Buck five times in three months. Buck went through seven bags of flour before he drove Eddie to the airport.
His voice shakes on his "No," and Tommy is there, all of the sudden, his hand hovering just over Buck's shoulder, like he realized halfway there it might not be welcome. "Do you still think I need to keep looking for someone better than you?"
It'd been seeing Tommy out with a guy that'd prompted him to stop fucking baking and make an effort to just...get over it But with Eddie away, and the rest of the 118 so wrapped up in their lives, there weren't a whole lot of outlets for that. And it's been easy to willfully misinterpret Tommy's breakup speech. Or - interpret it in the most hurtful way possible.
"Is this what you want to do right now?" Tommy asks, even and measured. "Will this help?"
"I want my sister back!"
Tommy takes a step back. His hands shift to his pockets, and Buck just wants -
"Why are you here?"
He tips his head up. Holds Tommy's gaze. Tommy flounders in a way Buck's never seen before.
He looks - tired. Good. White Henley under a flannel Buck had always told him brought out his eyes. The jeans Buck had stolen once or twice because they made his ass look good. His hair's grown in at the sides, and the sprinkling of greys are more obvious than the last time he'd seen it this length.
"I just... didn't want you to be alone."
Tears threaten at the corners of his eyes. He wants to laugh, but he's terrified if he starts he won't be able to hold in the fear. "When did that change?"
Tommy gnaws on his cheek. "You have so many people, Buck. You have -."
"I don't want emotional repression Tommy here, so if you're just here to keep me distracted until someone else can be here you should just... go."
Something flashes in his gaze. Anger, maybe. Terror.
"Please let me stay."
It hurts, to hear it. It hurts to hear the trepidation in his voice as he says it. Buck just wants to pull him in, tuck his face into the curve of his neck, soak in the warmth of his arms.
Buck spends too long staring at his knees. Long enough for Tommy to shift, to sigh, to nod his head decisively out of the corner of Buck's eye.
The word is stuck in his throat. Has been for months, since Tommy looked at him with teary eyes and walked away.
"I won't be able to let you go again."
He's already half turned away. Buck can only see half his expression as his eyes dip closed. He swallows. Nods, again.
Buck can't watch him push back through that door, so he stares at the toes of his boots until his vision starts to blur.
A second pair of toes swim into his eyeline. A hand shifts through his curls, snagging on knots, digging towards his scalp, and he can't quite bite back the sob. The arms that reach for him are warm, big and familiar, and Buck gives himself over to the panic and the fear that have been clawing at his chest for hours now. Tommy says something - whispers it into the air above Buck's head over and over, but Buck can't - he just -
He presses his face into Tommy's stomach, digs his fingers into the back of his shirt, sucks in horrible, gasping breaths. It's not enough. Nothing will be until he's got Maddie in his arms.
But it's more than he had an hour ago.
"Stay," he manages, and Tommy's fingers curl around Buck's neck and hold.
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Chapter 15: I Don't Know What You Did To Me!
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 neve 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 (IT'S TIME BABY!), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy
Word Count: 22K (Hear Me Out... It's Wonderful)
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, Denial, A little bit of self-deprecating thoughts, Jealousy, Anger, Rage, A WHOLE LOT OF SHOUTING, Stan Edgar Being A Jerk, Sexist comments, Illusions to Sex, Heavy Petting? Making Out (It's ABOUT time), 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: Alright, hear me out... I know this is a long one, but I got so excited and the sun was in my eyes, and I forgot where I parked my car and... well... I got tired of the cliffhangers. 😂 But seriously y'all I am SO excited 😉🥰
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The apartment was cold and dark when you walked through the front door, but the plants called out to you, filling the silence of the early morning, rustling and turning towards you as you enter. The curtains on the windows in the living room were closed, but the sunlight that dripped beneath the fabric was sufficient to see that Ben wasn't there.
It had been exactly seven days since you'd walked out of this apartment with Ben beside you, arguing with him about finally letting you go to work, seven days since you'd killed your brother, and seven days since Ben had tried to call you and you hadn't answered.
You wished you had. The guilt stirred in the pit of your stomach from not picking up the phone and to remedy it, you'd tried to call Ben, but he hadn't picked up.
And before you could talk yourself out of it, you'd sent an awkward text with the one word that you could think to say:
"Hi."
I'm such an idiot.
You really didn't know what else to say, not after everything that had happened. Not to mention you didn't want to tell him how much you'd wanted him there with you, how you'd imagined him riding on the bus alongside you while the wooded forests quickly shifted into farmland. You didn't know how Ben would react to that, especially since you weren't sure how that seemed like a friend-thing and you still weren't sure why you wanted him with you when your entire life fell apart.
But Ben hadn't answered the text, and he hadn't tried to call you again, which only made you feel worse for not answering his call a week ago.
You had been expecting him to at least try to call one more time or text you, but he hadn't, and there was a gaping hole inside that continued to open wider and wider with each passing day that you didn't speak to him.
He's probably out on a date or something. Has more important things to do than listen to my soap opera or help me pick up the pieces of my life.
It did still feel like it was in pieces. Everything you knew had changed within the course of a few hours, but you were glad to have your grandmother with you.
You had stayed with her instead of going back to NYC, allowing her to cook for you and soothe you the best she could with cups of tea and the love that she'd always had in abundance for you. It was still a little weird to think of her as a supe, but it was getting easier to swallow, and it felt like you were seeing her for the first time.
Since you'd talked about her time as a supe, she'd been opening up more about the past and you loved hearing all her stories. It also was making you see Ben in a new light. 
Your grandmother knew more about his childhood than Ben had ever mentioned to you. He never seemed to be forthcoming with any information about himself, but the things that she'd told you about his father and the way he treated Ben made your blood boil.
It made you want to raise his father from the dead just to put him back in the grave all over again.
Of course, knowing all of this now made you feel worse for not picking up his call. A part of you thought that it was odd that someone who was so concerned for you at the hospital after everything happened with Elijah had gone radio silent.
And it made a part of you worry about him. Yes, as your grandmother had put it, Ben was more indestructible than you were, but you couldn't deny the fact that you were worried about him.
But as much as the last seven days had been soothing, there were still some odd moments.
For example, you'd woken up earlier one morning and followed your nose into the kitchen where your grandmother was making breakfast only to hear her muttering "what a fucking idiot" under her breath. Weirder still was another time you'd come back from the bathroom only to hear her cursing while she aggressively knit something that looked like a sweater and heard her whisper "I'm going to kill him. Could I have been any clearer?"
You hadn't asked her what she meant, but you'd assumed she meant her next door neighbor Mr. Filbert who was about the same age as your grandmother and was the bane of her existence. Each day she would have a new complaint that made her march over there and yell at him about something.
Personally, you thought he liked it when she yelled at him. Not to mention every Christmas he always brought over a large bottle of Brandy, your grandmother's favorite, and she made a chess pie specifically for him at the annual Christmas party she threw.
Annie and you had been shipping them harder than the post office the week before Christmas for years, but nothing ever came of it. In fact, the two of you had a yearly bet to see if this was the year that Mr. Filbert would finally do something about it or if it would be your grandmother who stopped being so stubborn and blind to what was in front of her face.
You couldn't imagine being that way if you saw how much someone liked you or went out of their way to care for you.
But being at home for a week made you feel better.
Everything that happened was settling over you, the newfound strength of your powers, your connection to nature, and there was the other thing you'd noticed, but were afraid to think about.
The thing you realized after you stepped out of the creaky shower and looked at yourself in the mirror without being covered in dirt. 
At first you thought it was a trick of the light, but turning your face this way and that had confirmed it. The small wrinkles on the top of your forehead had faded, your laugh lines weren't as pronounced, and even the few gray hairs that you'd had since you pushed yourself too hard in high school and your first, and only, year of college, were gone. You were visibly younger and the only thing that you could think of that changed it was how you felt when you absorbed the energy of the plants. You remembered how it felt to absorb their life force, to have the energy flooding through your body taking away your pain, and healing what was broken. It felt like the best kind of high there was, your body melding with the tangled vines and unfurling leaves, feeling connected to everything in that shop while it made you whole again.
Standing there and looking at yourself, but not yourself in the mirror was weird and a little overwhelming.
There was also a part of you that didn't want to become an creepy old lady who sang to glowing flowers in the middle of the woods in the dead of night.
Annie had noticed it the moment that she'd seen you, and the two of you had discussed it over a Alien movie marathon, what it would be like if you could take the life of plants to make yourself younger and if it meant that you could live longer.
You figured that it was as good as true.
But to get back in tune with your powers you had sat outside in the back garden meditating. It seemed to work. Sitting out in the warmth of the day, with the breeze wicking the sweat at the back of your neck, the grass brushing against your worn jeans, and the call of nature all around you, it made you feel at peace for the first time in a long time.
It was nice to have a few moments to yourself, but that also meant that the thought of what came next seemed to hover over you. You knew that you had a long way to go before you fully got in control of your powers again, but you also knew that you couldn't hide in Illinois forever.
It felt like you were running from everything that happened, and you knew the longer you stayed away the harder it would be to go back to NYC, face the aftermath of Darren's death, and see Ben.
Although, he hadn't showed up, Annie had. She came on the second day and spent the next four days with you the same way the two of you spent your weekends growing up: with nostalgic movies, junk food, pizza, and copious amounts of wine, while bundled under plush blankets and pillows on the living room floor.
But the more days that passed when you were in Illinois, the more you were aware that something was missing, and now standing in your apartment you felt the same way.
Why?
Bean comes shooting out of your open bedroom and down the hallway in a frenzy, practically knocking into your ankles in his haste to brush his dark gray coat against your legs. He purrs loudly to get your attention, and you drop to your knees to pet him, staring into his luminous orange eyes.
"Hey Bean, did you miss me?" You smile at your cat, rubbing along the curve of his back the way you know he likes before you work your fingers under his chin.
The creature, now named "Rex" was perched on your shoulder like a bird of prey watching Bean with curiosity. The name was chosen due to how it looked like a T-rex with longer forearms whenever it stood up on it's back legs, but not from ferocity. He was a bit of a cuddler, more so than Bean. You also thought that Ben would appreciate the name given how much grief he'd given you when you told him your cat's name.
Bean glances up and hisses at Rex, who curls into your neck as if he's afraid.
"Oh, so you’re fine ripping someone apart, but you draw the line at meeting your brother?” You smile reaching up to scratch along his neck.
Annie had been terrified of him at first. She’d heard from Butcher exactly what he had done to Darren and was wary that Rex could grow into a maneater at any moment.
But Rex didn't seem to have man eating tendencies, at least now he didn't.
And when it came to Annie you figured that she was angrier that she hadn't gotten a shot at Darren.
She's waited a hell of a long time.
Bean narrows his eyes and raises his paw to swat at Rex, the claws scraping off his smooth leaf-like coat and leaving behind no damage. Rex cowers further into your neck.
"Stop acting like a jealous, only child." You chide the cat. "I love both of you the same way. And you've got to get along."
Bean makes a low noise in the back of his throat but leans into your hand asking for more rubs.
You indulge him for another minute, before looking up down the dark hallway. "Ben?"
The name echoes through the apartment, but Ben doesn't appear in the hallway.
I wonder where he is. Maybe he's at Butcher's.
You had spoken to Butcher once, who'd assured you that he, Frenchie, MM, and Hughie were cleaning everything up and that there wasn't anything for you to worry about.
You trusted Butcher to handle it. The last thing you wanted was to be unable to walk down the street because everyone was running for their lives and screaming while hoping you didn't unleash Rex on Manhattan.
One of the vines on the opposing wall flicks the light switch on, bathing your living room in artificial light. You pause, your hand frozen on Bean's back as you look over the living room and kitchen.
The apartment is spotless. There are no empty bottles of scotch, no half smoked blunts in the ashtray on the coffee table, no empty pizza boxes stacked next to your couch, and no dirty clothes and socks strewn around the room. In fact, there aren't any clothes at all or shoes.
Everything that belongs to Ben that was once scattered over your small living room is gone, leaving the room almost uncomfortably bare.
Is he doing laundry?
You strain your ears to hear the tell-tale sound of the sink or the shower in the bathroom, but don't hear anything.
Maybe he cleaned up because I was gone?
It seems a little out in left field, but you reason to yourself that Ben had tried to clean up while you were gone, just like he did when you got back from the hospital two weeks ago.
But as you walk down the hallway towards your bedroom you notice that the hall closet when Ben keeps his other things is empty. Every article of clothing, every shoe, every sock, and the small box of personal items that Ben had never let you see into was completely gone.
Something inside your chest begins to crack, you're not sure what, but all you know is that it doesn't feel good. There's an odd foreboding feeling that sends alarm bells off in your head.
Did he leave?
The thought is like a punch in the gut and your chest tightens, making it difficult to breathe.
Why would he leave without telling me?
You pull your phone out of your back pocket and scroll through to find Ben's number. This time you don't hesitate to hit the call button.
Each time it rings you can feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper into something that you can't describe. You didn't understand why he left, and why he wasn't here when you got back.
Was it because I didn't pick up the phone when he called? Was it because he finally figured that I wasn't going to sleep with him and he decided to leave?
He doesn't answer, but this time you leave him a voicemail.
"Hey Ben, it's me. I just got back to the apartment and all your stuff is gone, which means either we got robbed or you got kidnapped by your evil brother." You laugh awkwardly. "But I'm back in town so you should call me and let me know if your stuff should be here or whatever-um-" You clear your throat trying to keep your voice from shaking a little. "Just call me back okay?"
When the final beep sounds whatever it was you were feeling was lodged deep into the back of your throat and this time, as you look out over the pristine living room and kitchen you allow yourself to notice just how empty it looks without Ben in it.
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"Babe!" Annie calls waving her hand from where she sits at one of the artisanal wrought iron tables at Calamity Coffee Co to catch your attention.
The inside of the shop was identical to the last time the two of you were here. There's still a collection of best-selling author's to be lining the wooden bar along the front windows, still a much too happy barista who grins when you walk through the door, and still a group of people sitting on the plush velvet couch talking about absolutely nothing at all while sipping colorful coffee mugs
It was surreal, as if the past two weeks hadn't happened and you were the same person that you were then.
Annie had left about two days before you came back to the city after she got a phone call from someone at Vought demanding that she come back for some "big emergency."
You still had no idea what the "big emergency" was, but you figured that you were about to find out. Annie hadn't been able to send you more than a handful of errant texts in which you planned this coffee shop meet.
Truthfully you weren't sure that you could share any of her enthusiasm or her excitement over what the "big emergency" was. You were still swimming in whatever the feeling was at Ben's sudden disappearance and his radio silence.
You'd thought that the feeling would have passed and tried to think about all the positives about him not living in your apartment would be, but the list was shorter than you expected, and the negatives were mounting higher with every passing minute since you'd called him and left the awkward voicemail. It was odd, especially after how hard you'd fought for him to not live with you, and how hard you'd tried to convince him that he didn’t want to live with you, but the feeling was still there.
Maybe he didn't move out and maybe he's been kidnapped and taken back to Russia!
That thought was distressing, but you thought that if Ben had been kidnapped your apartment would have looked like a train ran through it. Not to mention there wouldn't have been fresh water or fresh food laid out for Bean, almost as if Ben had been back to feed him.
But if he had voluntarily left, you still didn't understand why he had. You racked your brain trying to come up with something, some reason why Ben wouldn't be there, some little detail that you missed in the week that led up to the big explosion that was Darren's death and the destruction of "Please Don't Die," but you couldn't remember anything.
If anything, Ben and you were getting along better than you had in the days that lead up to it. He had been more attentive, had taken care of you in his own way, had sat with you on the couch and watched his ridiculously cheesy old films and pouted whenever you laughed at the lines he had delivered in all seriousness.
And the only reason you could come up with was that Ben genuinely didn't care about living with you or being around you as much as you thought he did and that he was tired of pretending to be a nicer person.
So basically, you were back to square one and you were trying to shake off the feelings that had started to bloom whenever you spent time with him and Ben acted like someone who you could love, someone that you could see yourself with. The same feelings that you had fought to push down and ignore because you didn't want to feel that way about someone like him.
The rays of the mid-day sun stream through the large windows catching the glints of gold in Annie's hair. The steam from her latte swirls and tangles out from her cup, crawling across the table to where the iced latte she ordered for you sits. The condensation has already started to drip down the plastic outside to the white napkin beneath, smudging the purple script of the coffee shop's name printed on the paper.
"Hey." You smile and embrace your friend.
It was good to see her again, but she looked more tired than usual. Her makeup was smudged beneath her eyes and her hair wasn't tied up in her usual high ponytail, but instead was thrown over her shoulders and finger combed.
"I missed you." She sighs into your shoulder. "Work is killing me. Ashley is going to be my thirteenth reason I swear." Annie rolls her eyes.
The wilted wildflowers in the center of the table perk up in your presence without you focusing on them.
"I missed you too." You reach into the front pocket of your overalls and extract Rex, who is now about the size of a coke can, and who crawls across the table to say hi to Annie.
She gently scratches under his little chin the way she knows he likes. "You're not going to eat me are you?"
"He already ate-"
Annie's eyes widen. "Not Bean!"
"Are you crazy? Do you think that I'd let him eat Bean? No. He had some cat food. Surprisingly he likes it so I guess that's what I'm gonna feed him and-"
"What is that thing?" A barista asks as he passes Annie and your table on the way back to the counter, toting a large tray of dirty mugs.
"Oh it's a-" You clear your throat thinking of something to call Rex. "It's an Aconitum Napellus." You reply saying the only name that could come to mind and hoping that the barista didn't know the scientific name for wolfsbane.
"Wow I've heard about those I think!" The barista replies leaning towards where Rex is stretching out in the sunlight on the tabletop. "Aren't they super rare?"
"Yep." Annie nods her head, the picture of seriousness. "My friend saved him from a guy who was practically part beast." She shoots you a wink, understanding exactly what Aconitum Napellus is.
"Can I pet him?" The barista's hand is already halfway to Rex, but you reach Rex first and pull him to you.
Honestly, you didn’t think that Rex would bite his finger off, but you didn't want to take that chance.
"Um. No. He's kind of finicky about other people." You laugh awkwardly.
"Bummer." The barista shrugs and walks back to the counter.
"You really think that it's a good idea bringing Godzilla out like that?" Annie takes a sip from the steaming cup in front of her.
"I don't think he's vicious unless I tell him to be." You look down at where Rex is curling into your arms. He's grown maybe another inch or two, but not enough to attract unwanted attention.
"And are you going to tell him to be?"
"Now?"
"I need to know, just in case I have to start running for my life."
"I'll keep you posted, just try not to piss me off today." You snort reaching for the latte on top of the table. "So, what was the 'big emergency.'"
"Oh my fuck! You're not going to believe this!" Annie leans across the table. "But it's kinda a big secret so you can't tell anyone, at least until not after tonight."
"Why tonight?"
"Because tonight is the big official announcement/celebration." She braces her elbow on the table and extends her pinky. "Special pinky swear me."
"Special pinky swear? What are we ten?" You roll your eyes at her.
The special pinky swear was the secret handshake that Annie and you had come up with when you were eight after Annie got kissed by Matthew Colson in second grade behind the giant oak tree in the schoolyard. The "special pinky swear" was only used in moments of complete seriousness. The same handshake had seen juicy secrets the two of you had shared over the years with no one else. When Annie lost her virginity to Drummer Boy, when the two of you got high in Esther Masterson's family cornfield, when you stole a bright red thong on a dare from Victoria's Secret, and when Newton and you had sex for the first time in the backseat of his dad's pickup truck senior year at Look Out Point. All of these moments had involved the "special pinky swear," so for her to bring it up, meant that this was big.
You hesitate. You don’t know why, but there's an odd feeling tugging in the back of your mind, almost as if you know what she's going to say before she says it.
"Babe." Annie wiggles her pinky over the table and you take it.
"Okay, what is it?"
She's still leaning on the table towards you, her blonde hair falling forward over her shoulders, and her eyes bright with her secret. "Ben is joining The Seven."
You sit there for a moment, her words not quite comprehending in your mind. And when it does, you feel the same tightness in your chest when you realized that all of Ben's stuff wasn't in your apartment anymore. You forget how to breathe, how to act normal, because you didn’t understand why Ben would do that, not after everything that happened with Payback.
"What?" You choke out.
"Honestly, I'm kind of surprised that he didn't tell you since the two of you are so close." She tilts her head to the side as if examining you for a minute.
"But why? Everything with Payback was so fucked up and that means he'd have to be around Stan again and-" You couldn’t finish the sentence, it felt like you were running out of air, a vice clamping down on your throat, because if Ben was going back to The Seven it meant that you'd probably never see him again.
Before the possibility of him being kidnapped or all his stuff being stolen meant that you'd run into him at least at some point, but this no way. You never saw anyone on The Seven save for Annie and that was because she still ran ops with Butcher and she was your best friend, but Ben and you were… nothing.
And standing in your apartment with all his things gone made that almost chillingly true. You and Ben were nothing more than roommates, and now he’d made that very clear by not telling you that he was moving out and taking another job. Nothing about that was the friendship that you thought the two of you were achieving.
Maybe it's a good thing, because I was beginning to feel things for him that I didn't want to and now he's gone I don't have to worry about it.
The thought didn't make you feel any better. Something inside felt like it was shriveling up and dying, something that you didn't know had grown and bloomed within you the moment Ben moved in.
"I know!" Annie exclaims. "But Hughie told me that while we were gone, Ben stormed into the apartment and confronted Butcher, said that he 'didn't feel appreciated' and that he was 'sick of all the bullshit' and that he was 'fucking done.' Hughie said that Butcher was pissed, but Ben must've gone to talk to Stan because they're officially announcing Ben or rather Soldier Boy's glorious return to Vought as the leader of The Seven."
"Wow the leader that's-" You swallow, voice hollow. "That's good for him."
"More than good. They're throwing him one of those ridiculous over the top parties tonight to celebrate and re-introduce him to the press." Annie takes another sip of her coffee, practically shaking with the excitement over the news. "And holy fucking shit!"
"What?" You breathe. Suddenly the room is spinning and you're not sure that you're getting enough air to your brain. You feel like you've been punched in the gut and at the same time feel like everything inside of you is spilling out.
You couldn't understand any of it, couldn't understand why it felt like Ben had broken up with you or why it felt like your heart was breaking, not over Ben of all people.
Why? I don't love him or like him. He's my friend or… I thought we were becoming friends.
"Stan is literally just falling at his feet. He's been busing in these slutty looking women that all go up to Ben's apartment, and you have no idea what I can sometimes hear through the walls. Those women are so loud."  Annie makes a disgusted face, and you could only imagine what she was hearing.
It was the reason why you hadn't let Ben bring women back to the apartment, because your walls were thin and you didn't want to be subject to hearing his live action porn shoots. You knew the exact kind of person that Ben was when he moved in with you, but the week you'd spent with him before you killed Darren was different. He was kinder, softer, more patient with you, and willing to help you. Not to mention overprotective because he didn't want you to leave the apartment or even lift a finger with your broken arm.
You think about how Ben hadn't been on a date that entire week, that he stayed at the apartment with you and how he didn't act like he saw the woman in the grocery store hitting on him. Your jaw tightens as you fight the urge to cry, not quite comprehending why you were feeling this way.
What did I expect? He's the same way he's always been. And maybe he really was pretending to be different around me so that I'd sleep with him. Ben is Ben he's…
You think about what your grandmother said to you, about Ben acting differently than the one she knew. How Ben cared for you at the apartment and in the hospital was so different than the person she'd been friends with in the 80's. But now you weren't sure.
I don't need him anyway. He was just my roommate and now I have the couch all to myself.
You think, but it doesn’t bring any comfort
Annie's eyes focus back on you. "Are you okay? You look a little pale."
"No actually I'm not feeling that great all of a sudden." It wasn't a lie, you felt like you were going to throw up with all the memories you had with Ben swirling around your head. You didn't understand why this was happening.
In the past Annie and you would have giggled and laughed about something like this, but you didn’t feel like laughing at all.
"Oh no. Was it the latte? I'll come with you-" She starts to get up, but you hold up one hand while using the other to put Rex into your front pocket again.
"No, it's okay. I've just got a headache, and I don't think I'm ready to be around so many people, after Darren, you know?" It was a lame excuse, but you knew that it was the only thing to say that would make Annie leave you alone. "I think I took it too fast or something."
"Oh. Okay." She looks at you sympathetically. "Well text me when you get home? I want to make sure that you're okay."
"I will. I love you Ann."
"Love you too babe."
You rush from the coffee shop, trying to put as much distance between everything Annie said and you, but it's still all there in your head making it spin.
Why did he just leave without saying anything? Why didn't he tell me that he was being offered a place on The Seven?
You think to yourself, gaze on the sidewalk as you go, following the cracks and the blackened lumps of gum that have been smooshed against the concrete.
And why the fuck do I care so much? It's his life, he can do whatever the fuck he wants to!
The flowers in the black circular bins outside the florist shop wither and die as you pass, spilling multicolored petals at your feet that you trample underfoot.
He never said that he wanted to be friends. It was me that said it at that ridiculous fundraiser. Me that told him countless times that I didn't want to sleep with him.
The trees that are planted sporadically along the sidewalk shed their leaves when you walk underneath.
And I don't want to sleep with him. I want a relationship, I want love, I don't want just a one-night stand with someone like Ben. I deserve more I-
The thoughts were the same ones that you told yourself whenever you felt yourself considering falling into bed with Ben. The ones that usually brought the memory of your parents dancing to "Gonna Sing You My Love Song" by candlelight in the kitchen when they looked at each other like there was no one else in the world. You wanted that kind of love so badly that you could feel it in your bones.
But this time when you think those thoughts, it's not your parents that appear, it's Ben and you sitting on the couch in your living room with him reading the newspaper and you reading a book.
Stop it. Ben doesn't want that. He's made it perfectly clear that he doesn't want a relationship. And I guess he doesn't want a friendship because he just up and left without telling me!
"Excuse me!" You hear a voice say followed by your name, but you ignore it, and continue down the sidewalk.
The tears were close to falling and you didn't fully understand what it was that you were feeling or why you were so upset about Ben leaving when it meant that you could get your apartment completely to yourself again.
"Excuse me!" The voice says again and this time someone grabs on to your left shoulder yanking you backward.
You'd only seen Ashley once.
The first time Annie invited you to Vought Tower to look at her ridiculous apartment, Ashley had made you sign an NDA before you did. What exactly she thought you’d see you weren’t sure. It wasn’t like you were as oblivious as everyone else to the way the heroes of The Seven acted when the cameras weren’t flashing.
But Ashley looks the same as she did the last time you saw her, thinning red hair, sharp black suit that's buttoned over her chest giving the illusion that she doesn't have anything on underneath, tacky necklaces, crimson lipstick, and just like last time, she's not looking at you. She's typing something furiously on her phone as if she couldn't be bothered to acknowledge your existence with her eyes.
You hated when people did that.
“Hi." Ashley says with false sweetness, drawing it out too long to be natural. "Can you get in the car please?” She asks, still not looking up from the phone in front of her and gesturing with her head towards a gigantic black SUV that idles on the curb. It's easily bigger than your grandmother's truck and has windows so dark you can't see into the backseat.
Probably something Vought gets custom done to hide what goes on with their fucking heroes.
“Why?” You ask.
Did she hear Annie tell me about Ben? Wow, she works fast, I’ll give her that.
Your gaze shifts to where your building is just a few steps down the sidewalk. You were thinking about ignoring her, and continuing to walk down the street, but a part of you was intrigued.
“I don’t have time for this, get in the car.” This time Ashley looks up from the phone with a forced smile.
It's the forced smile that makes you decide to keep walking. You were tired of people trying to manipulate you with false sweetness to get what they wanted.
“I heard you the first time. No.” You reply before turning to walk down the sidewalk.
She moves so fast that you'd think she was A-train, putting herself directly in your way.
Ashley lowers her voice to a whisper. You didn't know why she was doing that. "Look, if you don't get in the car it's my ass. And I'm not going to be fired because one of Soldier Boy's sluts is acting like a little bitch and refuses to get in the car."
One of Soldier Boy's sults? Soldier Boy’s SLUT?!
"I don't know where you're getting your information, but I am not one of his sluts." You spit.
"Well, the only people I've been picking up for him all damn week have been." Her mouth twitches up into a smirk. "So, the options are you either get in the fucking car or Javier is going to put you in the car." She gestures to the behemoth of a man sitting in the driver's seat of the SUV, who smirks at you.
"Oh, is he?"
"Yes."
All the emotions that you'd been feeling about Ben begin to reach a peak in your chest and something finally snaps. You didn't want to deal with any of this, all you wanted was to go home to your bed, and yet here Ashley was treating you like you were some weak-willed little girl who would do everything you were told. It's the same thing that Darren used to do with you, and like hell you were going to let anyone do that to you again.
"I’d love to see him try." Your eyes shift to bright green and the entire world begins to tremble. You could feel the trees that lined the streets turning to watch, the roots that pushed and tangled through new earth stirred beneath the streets and sidewalks, the flowers in the florist shop two doors down that had wilted and lost petals twist together and burst with new life before spilling out onto the sidewalks, and Rex who was sleeping soundlessly in the front pocket of your favorite overalls drops to the ground at your feet, snarling as he grows to the size of a microwave.
"Holy fuck!" Ashley shrieks and takes a step back from Rex who snaps his jaws at her feet. His pointed stick-like teeth now the length of a pencil, clicking together.
"You should be more careful who you threaten." You say, your voice lowering. The energy of nature around you was thrumming through your veins, electrified by your anger. "It might be the last thing you do."
Just as Rex takes another step towards Ashley, who is quickly running out of sidewalk, the backseat window rolls down, and you see Ben sitting there with an annoyed expression.
"Just get in the fucking car Petals." He says with a sigh.
Has he really been back there the whole time?
"Are you shitting me Ben?  You’ve been in the backseat this whole time? Why didn’t you get out to ask me to get into the car yourself?" You shout, eyes still a bright green.
I guess that's why she was whispering, didn’t want Ben to hear her call me one of his "sluts."
The thought made a surprising wave of anger and frustration crash over you when you remembered what Annie had said about Vought busing in women for Ben. You didn’t understand why you were upset; you knew the kind of person he was, knew that was what he went on dates to do, but for some reason the thought of him having a non-stop orgy at Vought tower after he had taken care of you and acted like a completely different person made you livid. It made you think again that he had just been putting on a big show to trick you into sleeping with him.
"That’s what that bitch is for!" He gestures to Ashley who is practically cowering against the car while Rex snarls between the two of you, now the size of a post office box.
You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. "I can’t do this with you. I’m going inside."
“Wait.”
“I don’t want to wait Ben.” You reach down and scoop up Rex who shrinks in your arms back to the size of the coke can before he hisses at Ashley one last time. She looked like she was going to faint, but you didn't feel guilty.
"Are you really going to make me get out of the fucking car? Ben shouts above the sound of traffic.
Honestly, you really didn't feel like talking to him, not when you weren't sure why you were upset with him.
All he did was move on with his life. Why do I care so much about that? He was going to move out eventually and I didn't want him to live with me anyway. He was crashing on my couch; it wasn't a permanent situation and-
The thought of your couch makes an odd feeling rise in your chest for a second as the memory of him and you picking it out at IKEA come floating back. Despite how much Ben annoyed you, you’d had fun with him at IKEA trying out the different couches and getting coffee. It always surprised you how you could enjoy spending time with him, even when he annoyed you without end. But you had enjoyed yourself. Just as you'd enjoyed yourself when the two of you watched tv on the couch and when he walked with you to the shop and picked you up at the end of the day.
“You don’t have to get out of the car. I’m going inside.” You turn and walk away from where the SUV is idling on the curb, weaving through the foot traffic.
I don't want to talk to him. I just want to go into my apartment and forget everything Annie told me and forget that Ben doesn't live with me anymore.
“For fucks sake.” You hear Ben grumble under his breath when you turn away, but you don't stop walking. "Petals!"
You can see the glass double doors and brick steps that lead up into your apartment building up ahead, but even with how fast you're walking Ben catches you easily.
"Wait." Ben moves to block your path just as Ashley had.
He looks different than the last time you saw him standing in the street asking you to let him make sure you were okay and asking you to let him take you home. And if you were acknowledging it, Ben looked better than you remembered.
He's still wearing the same jeans and t-shirt combo, except now you can see that they're made of nicer material, designer, and he's wearing a large golden Rolex on his left hand that you're sure someone at Vought bought for him. Ben's dark hair isn't falling into his face, it's a little shorter, more controlled. You liked it better the other way, but you weren't going to admit that to yourself.
Even his beard is trimmed, and you wonder if Ashley got him a stylist and a hair/makeup team to spruce him up before his big debut.
Oh yeah. The debut he's making after he moved out of our apartment and didn't tell me, and after he's been fucking whatever comes across his path all week.
The thought makes your jaw clench together.
That's the way Ben is! He's been going through women since he got back from Russia. That's not new!
You thought it to make yourself feel better, but you can still feel the tightening in your chest that you'd been feeling since Annie told you the "big news" and you realized that Ben moved out.
Then why does it kind of hurt?
"What?" You sigh.
"I want to talk to you."
"About what?"
"Can you get in the fucking car first?"
"No. I don't want to get in the fucking car, nor do I know why I need to get in the car!"
"Because I want to talk to you!"
"And we can't do that here?"
"No!"
You cross your arms over your chest and refuse to budge. You knew that it would only annoy Ben that you were being stubborn, his stubbornness also drove you to the point of insanity as did his taunts, so the two of you were at a stalemate and you refused to give in.
"Fine." He seethes. "I'm joining The Seven."
“I heard. Congratulations. You’re getting everything you want." You clip.
“Just about.” He mumbles under his breath so low that you don’t think you heard him right.
"I don't see why that involves me."
"If you'd shut up and fucking listen to me for a minute I'll tell you!" He snaps.
"Don't tell me to shut up Ben! Who fucking disappears without so much as a note? Who up and leaves without telling their frie-," You clear your throat to change the word. "Their roommate that they're moving out!?"
"You didn’t want me to live with you!”
"Maybe at the beginning but-" Your cheeks redden for a second and something flashes through his eyes that you've never seen. "I mean, it's not that bad. And after everything I thought that you'd still be here when I got back."
"Well if I recall, you left without telling me where the fuck you were going and didn't pick up my damn phone call!"
"I called you back! And I texted you! It's not like I was completely radio silent!" You stamp your foot in frustration. "And why are you going back to Vought? They got your team to stab you in the back and took your genetic material to make a psychotic freak!"
"Because Stan Edgar called me and he said he wanted me to be the new leader of The Seven!"
"Oh please, you believe that guy? He only looks out for himself. If you trust him again, he's gonna give you another one-way ticket back to Russia."
"He's not going to fucking-"
"Yes he is! And if you thought things through instead of jumping in feet first, maybe you wouldn’t land into a pile of shit! Now if you'll excuse me. I have to do some laundry, but whoopdie fucking do! It seems like all your dreams are coming true." You try to step around him, but Ben shifts his body to block you.
"Just fucking listen to me." He snaps, green eyes flashing in the sunlight.
"What? What do you have to tell me that's so important you had that red-headed bitch try to shove me in an SUV for?"
"They're throwing me a damn party tonight and I want you to come with me." Ben shouts back at you, eyes blazing in anger.
Your mouth drops open. It was the last thing that you were expecting him to say. If anything, you thought that he was going to try to get you to come with him to Vought to make a pass at you, not invite you to probably one of the most exclusive events of the entire year.
"What?"
Ben still looks angry but uncrosses his arms from his chest. "I want you to come with me to the party."
You clear your throat to dissipate the shock, your anger coming back. "Why me? Why not any of those other women that Stan's been bringing to the tower for you?" You snap. “They certainly seem to be more your type. Probably look a lot more impressive than I do on your arm."
You hadn't seen them, but you could only imagine what they all looked like. Ben's matches on tinder he often bragged about and had shown you photos as if he needed to prove how attractive they were to someone else. Of course, then you'd told him to just stuff it in a tube sock like everyone else rather than risk the venereal disease.
"What did I tell you about saying shit like that about yourself in front of me?" He looks angry again.
You think back to the day the two of you shopped for a couch at IKEA and Ben had yelled at you for making a self-deprecating joke about being "useless."
An odd look crosses Ben's face for a split second when he realizes what he said, before he smirks to hide it. "Are you jealous Petals?"
"No."
"Because you're acting like you are." He smirks wider. "Kinda sounds like you've been having Annie spy on me for you."
"I didn’t have her spy on you! She can hear everything that you're doing, and she told me because we got coffee today and she wanted to tell me your oh so wonderful news. That you’re the leader of the Seven and that means you have an endless parade of women willing to fuck you.”
"All women are willing to fuck me Petals."
"Not me."
Something flashes through his eyes that you can't place.
You chew on the inside of your cheek for a minute, before you sigh. "Ben, I don't think that I should-"
"I want you to come with me because none of them are supes and I want you to understand what being a supe is supposed to look like." He interrupts, but it doesn't sound convincing enough.
"I don't think any of that is real or how it's supposed to be!"
"How would you know anything about it? This is the Seven. The most powerful supe team in the world-"
"Just because it's the most popular doesn't mean that it's the most powerful. And I'm not sure I want to be a part of this. My grandmother told me what it was like for her and-"
"But you've never experienced it!"
"Well, no."
"Exactly. So just come with me tonight."
"I don't know Ben. I'm not sure that I'm up for being around that many people after everything, you know? I-" You swallow. All the feelings of frustration, confusion, and anger were slowly dissipating, and it was leaving behind something you didn't want to think about. "I stayed in Illinois because I needed a few days to get away from all of this and I don’t think that I can rush into it all over again the day I get back." You could feel the memories of the day you killed Darren beginning to come surging back, followed by the realization of how out of control your powers could get.
Not to mention that standing here and looking at Ben was making the tightness in your chest worse.
Then Ben does something he never has, he reaches out and takes your hand. “Come on Petals, just one night.”
He was saying Petals in the soft way he had two weeks ago when he had been taking care of you after the hospital, and it made warmth pool in the pit of your stomach.
"But-"
"And I won't leave you alone at the party with any of those boring fucks. Or with that octopus fucker.” He interrupts, trying to convince you.
"One night?"
"Yes."
Your eyes drop to where he's holding your hand gently between the two of you. It was odd for him, especially because he'd never done that before, even when you had nightmares, Ben never held your hand like this. It was always an awkward cradle, but for him to fully entwine his fingertips with yours it between the two of you was shocking. You raise your gaze to his unblinking green eyes. "Do you promise?" You whisper.
"Yes. I promise, one night and if you hate it, I'll take you back to your shitty apartment building." Ben smiles as if it's a joke, but it stings a little bit.
It was the first time that Ben had ever referred to the apartment as just "yours." You'd gotten so accustomed to him calling it "our apartment" and to hear it that way made your chest tighten more. Maybe it was because it was settling in that Ben wasn't coming back, that he wasn't going to move back in or be a part of your life anymore.
"Okay. One night." You nod and let Ben lead you back to the car holding on to your hand.
Why is he doing this if he's been fucking his way through New York's female population this week? Why does he care so much that I be the one to go with him to this ridiculous party? Any one of those women would be ecstatic to go. And why is he holding my hand?
"Talk to her like that again and I’ll make sure that the next job you have is cleaning Stan Edgar’s fucking balls.” He growls to Ashley as he opens the door of the SUV for you.
And as you slide into the plush leather seats in the backseat, you begin to wonder exactly why Ben was so adamant about you "experiencing" what it was like to be a supe.
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"So, what do you think?" Ben's voice echoes through the large living room/sitting room, vibrating against the floor to ceiling glass walls that stand at the back of the room and give a spectacular view of New York City that lays below Vought Tower.
From up here the rest of the world looks so small and out of focus, and you wonder if that's why so many supes lose their morals, because they're worshiped and put in places like this to look down on the people below.
Treat them like gods and that's what they'll think they are.
Annie's apartment at the tower was impressive, but Ben's is practically another planet. The entire place is filled with mid-century modern furniture, supple leather couches so soft it feels like you're sliding through butter, beautifully crafted wooden credenzas, and modern art pieces that you'd only ever seen prints of online.
The high lofted ceilings are so tall that you're sure the first three floors of your apartment building could fit inside, and there's an odd echo that follows everything Ben and you say. There is a tv so large it might as well be a billboard that sits on top of a wooden credenza and holds a speaker system that must be more expensive that a yearly car payment.  It looks so intricate that you're afraid to touch it, let alone breathe next to it. The entire room screams wealth and not one piece of it is homey. It feels like a museum, as if someone tried to create something that felt like a home, but it turned into a time capsule of a time everyone else forgot.
You wondered if Ben ever felt that way and that way why he was really joining The Seven. If it wasn't just because Stan Edgar called, but because Ben felt like the world had forgotten who he was and he needed to prove it to everyone.
If that were true, you didn’t like that he thought that way. Yes, Ben annoyed you, but you liked who he was when he was with you. He never seemed like an old fossil that someone decided to shove into a box at the back of the Smithsonian, you liked the way he was, didn't think that he needed to prove himself to anyone.
Ben is standing behind you, leaning against one of the dark wood walls with a smile. You didn't know why he cared so much about your opinion of where he lived, not if you were just coming here for the party and then going back home to your apartment.
Your mind stutters on the word "home," because it hadn't felt like home when you got there, and Ben wasn't there. You didn’t want to admit that to yourself, but you knew it was true.
"It’s big." You say half-heartedly.
The apartment only made you think that Ben wasn't going to be living with you, a concept that you were confused as to why you were still saddened by, especially now that he'd had ample time to say goodbye. Before you���d been angry that he’d left without a note, but now you felt like you should be okay with what was happening.
You weren’t.
"Mhmm. Like it should be. Oh, you should have seen the good old days Petals. All the apartments, the hotel rooms, the houses they rented for us were like this. Not to mention everyone doing whatever the fuck you asked without hesitation, bringing me exactly what I wanted without argument. Fuck it takes me back." Ben sighs at the memory. "That’s how it’s supposed to be when you’re a supe. Not all of this squatting in small apartments and taking 500 jobs because you can't make enough money."
"I kind of like my 500 jobs." You say. "I've learned how to do a lot of things, and most of them are kind of fun-"
"Come on Petals." Ben rolls off the wall to get closer to you. "You're a bad liar and you know it."
"Fine. I don't like all of them, but I really like  working at the senior center and at the plant shop-“
As soon as the words come out of your mouth, you're reminded of exactly why you're not working in the shop anymore and everything that happened with Darren. You hadn't called Jake yet or texted him. Again, you didn’t know what to say.
Honestly, you didn't even know if he was alive and the thought that you'd killed your friend hurt you.
"He's okay." Ben murmurs quietly anticipating what you’re thinking. "Saw someone helping him from the rubble before I got out of there."
"Good. I was worried that I-." You let out a breath and shake your head feeling relief stir in the pit of your stomach. “I didn’t mean to lost control like that and I-“
“You don’t have to apologize for anything. That asshole deserved it.” You can hear the anger begin to drip into Ben’s voice.
“I know.” You look around the room again at the fancy furniture and high ceilings to distract yourself. "This apartment is definitely big enough to manspread in. But it seems kind of empty though for one person."
"What?"
"I just mean- all this space.” You gesture to the vaulted ceilings. “What person needs this much space? At least in my one bedroom it’s a bit cozier.”
“You don’t like it?” For a second you think that he looks disappointed, but you think you imagined it.
“Nope. Not really my style.”  You walk through the large living room exploring the apartment with Ben following behind you.
And you miss the way his shoulders slump just a little and the frown that pulls at the end of his mouth.
The bedroom is bigger than your whole apartment, with a giant four poster bed made of dark wood swaddled in gold and black bedding. The floors are made of black marble and there’s a giant fireplace that is so wide that a city bus could drive through no problem. The view out the floor to ceiling windows is even more breathtaking than the one in the living room.
“What no bearskin rug?” You snort at your joke, but for some reason it doesn’t make you smile.
All you're aware of is how weird this is, that Ben wanted you to come here and show you the way you "should" be living as a supe, and weirder still it was almost as if he wanted you to like his apartment.
Since when does Ben care what I think?
“Do you want a bearskin rug?” Ben asks, not sensing your sarcasm. "Because I can tell that bitch to bring one in here."
“No I was just-“ You sigh, but stop talking when you notice something green on the bedside table.
There’s a small pothos plant sitting there, it’s vines dangling over the sides of the table towards the floor a shock of green in an otherwise black and gold room. Ben didn’t like plants as much as you did. You knew that.
“Why do you have a plant?”
“It’s-“ He pauses as if embarrassed. “For you.”
“But you didn’t know I was coming?” You look over your shoulder. “And I told you that I was only staying one night.”
“I know.” Ben shrugs. “I got it earlier just in case.”
“In case?”
“You decided that you wanted to be a part of The Seven, or I don’t fucking know, just live here at Vought Tower.” He sounds angry, but you don't let it get to you.
“Well if I wanted to be a part of The Seven wouldn’t I get my own apartment? And if I stayed here, where would I sleep Ben? There’s only one bed.”
He bought me a plant? Did he think that I was going to sleep in here with him? Did he think that I was going to sleep with him?
“I mean we’ve shared before and you didn’t seem opposed to it.” He smirks, but when he notices that you don’t smile, he frowns. “I can sleep on the couch. It’s almost as comfy as the one we picked out.”
“Oh.”
“And actually if you want I can have them bring that one here too-“
The thought of the couch the two of you had fitting in with any of these outrageous displays of wealth was laughable, but again it confused you, because Ben was acting like he wanted you to move out of your apartment and into this one with him. Which, given how you heard he spent his week seemed ridiculous.
This is so weird. I have no idea what’s going on.
"So, um-" Ben clears his throat awkwardly. "How are you?"
"What?" You turn around to look away from the bedroom that looks a little bit like it belongs in a supervillain's penthouse apartment.
"Well, I mean-" He clears his throat again. Ben looks like it's difficult for him to say what he's about to, as if it's difficult for him to carry on a normal conversation. "Diana said that you were having a hard time."
"You talked to my grandmother?"
"Once. Before Stan called."
"Oh." You bite your lip. "I mean finding out that my brother killed my parents and tried to kill me wasn't exactly a walk in the park. But-" You shrug. "I'm dealing with it."
Ben nods as if he's unsure what to say. You noticed that when conversations got a little too personal Ben looked out of his element and you supposed that was what was happening right now. Sometimes it made you feel bad for him, as if he didn’t know how to act in a normal situation.
"Do I look different to you?" You blurt to clear out some of the awkward tension.
"What?"
"I mean, do I look younger? I thought that I was imagining things, but Annie pointed it out and I-"
"A little." He swallows.
"Great." You sigh.
"You don't want to look young?" Ben chuckles to himself. "Petals I swear every time you open that perfect mouth of yours you say the most outrageous shit I've ever heard."
"No, I mean I-" You wave your hand as if looking for the right words. "I guess I can make myself younger, but I don't think that I want to."
"Why not?"
"I mean if you live forever or longer than the average person you see everyone you love die. That doesn't exactly seem healthy."
"Not if the people you love don't die either." Ben says it quietly, almost to himself.
You snort. “My grandmother doesn’t live extra years, neither does Annie.” You hesitate to think of something that you never asked Ben. “Did you ever think about that?”
“Think about what?"
“When you and Countess were together. Didn’t you ever think about what would happen when she aged and you were well, you?”
Ben hesitates as if considering something. “Not really.”
“Why not?"
"You're full of questions today, Petals."
"And you're full of cryptic answers." You reply. "Come on Ben, you didn't think about that? I think that if I was with someone who didn't age that I would-"
"Someone like Jake you mean." Ben is frowning again, just as he always does whenever you bring him up.
"Why are you always so focused on him?"
"I'm not. Why are you so focused on Countess?"
"Stop answering my questions with a question!"
"I'm not!"
"You don't really have to worry about Jake. I think I blew my chances with him the minute that I destroyed his plant shop." You frown, reaching to touch the pothos plant that sits on the bedside table to get it to perk up.
Ben stands there for a minute watching you. "He's a fucking idiot if he lets that stand in the way of being with you."
Shock hits you like a bolt of lightning, and you turn to look at Ben, who suddenly looks very uncomfortable, as if he didn't mean to say that.
"Thanks."
He shrugs.
"And I think Countess was a fucking idiot and a Bitch for stabbing you in the back and making you love her."
"Thanks."
You shrug.
The odd silence is back, floating in the air between the two of you, something that you've never noticed before. You're not sure where it came from or what it's supposed to represent, but you wonder if Ben can feel it too.
“I-um- I’m sorry that I didn’t pick up the phone when you called. I didn’t know what to say.” You begin quietly. You wanted him to know that you had thought about picking it up, that you did want to talk to him.
“You don’t have to apologize for that Petals.”
“No I want to. And I’m sorry that I left you in the street like that. I should have stayed. I wanted-“ You stop talking, considering what you’re about to admit. “I wanted to stay with you.”
It seemed stupid to admit that out loud especially after you’d heard from Annie exactly what Ben had been doing all week, but you were so confused. You didn’t understand what you were feeling, didn’t understand why Ben asked you to come here, didn’t understand why he bought you a plant if you were only staying here for the party, and didn’t understand why you were so upset at the thought of going back home to your empty apartment.
Ben was confusing you again. He was being sweet and asking you how you were and he held your hand and he was genuinely asking you what you thought about the apartment and he bought you a plant to make you feel more at home. Not to mention he was acting as if the past week hadn’t happened, and it was still just the two of you back in your apartment.
And you could feel a cold chill of fear squishing your stomach into mush. You didn’t know what the fear was. Maybe it was because you were slowly realizing just how much you wanted Ben to be the man that he embraced when it was only the two of you. Maybe it was because you were realizing how much you liked being around him. Maybe it was because you were still cursing yourself because you didn’t want to fall for the wrong man. Or maybe it was because when Ben did things like this it was difficult for you to think that he was the wrong man.
He doesn’t want a relationship.
The thought doesn’t hold as much weight as it once did.
Ben’s hand gently touches the small of your back, turning you to look at him and making the thoughts evaporate. His green eyes search your face before he responds. “I wanted to come see you, but I thought you’d want to be left alone.”
“Why?”
“You didn’t want me to touch you in the street or check if you were okay and I wasn’t sure that I should-“ He clenches his jaw as if it’s difficult for him to admit this. “I didn’t think you wanted me there.”
“I did.” You whisper before you can stop yourself and his eyes widen in surprise. “Annie came to see me, but I wanted you. I-“
Ben gently traces your cheek with his rough fingertips, something warming in his gaze. The air between you is charging with electricity and you see his eyes dip to look at your mouth, before raising to your eyes once more. You know what he's silently asking you, and you want him to kiss you.
The memory of the two of you pressed against one another on your couch after the night Darren stayed in your apartment surfaces, the ghost of how it felt to be pressed against his body with your hands planted against the warm ridges of his muscles. You inhale a soft breath and it's full of Ben, enticing you forward, begging you to close the distance between the two of you.
Ben's thumb falls to the pillow of your lips, and they part in anticipation. Your body subconsciously moving closer to him so that your hands are resting against the soft fabric of his dark t-shirt. You can feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric soaking into the palms of your hands, a comfort in the chill of the marble covered room.
"I should have been there." He whispers. "But I-" Ben swallows, his voice no more than a murmur over the dull buzz of electricity that runs through the apartment.
The afternoon sun that shines through the glass windows behind you illuminates the flecks of gold in his eyes, making them a piercing green, and giving the illusion that they can see through you. Sometimes you thought that Ben noticed more about you than he was letting on, just as you noticed things about him that you were sure he tried to hide.
"It's okay." You murmur, leaning towards him, and letting your hands slowly move up the expanse of his chest.
“Sorry to interrupt.” A calm voice says from behind where Ben and you are standing.
The man standing in the doorway you'd, never seen in person, only on TV, but Stan Edgar is just as intimidating as he looks on the news. He's wearing a black pinstriped suit, a light blue shirt and a black tie. Not a piece of his outfit is out of shape. He looks calm and collected, not the frazzled out of control chaos that is Ashley when interacting with Ben.
And you hated him.
This was the man that had told Ben's team to stab him in the back and gave him to the Russians, and the man who gave Vogelbaum the okay to take Ben's genetic material and create Homelander. If Ben hadn't accepted the job with Stan, you probably would have ripped him to shreds.
Rex turns back from looking out the window and begins to skulk towards where Stan is, his beady black eyes narrowed up at the man. Stan looks down at the creature, who is about the size of a toaster now, in distaste.
“You don’t fucking knock?” Ben spits, turning around to face him, your hands falling from his chest.
“I did. I also called but you didn’t pick up your phone.” Stan says, undisturbed by Ben’s obvious anger. “Is she the new one that you made Ashley pick up?”
The new one?
His words settle in the pit of your stomach like an anchor making you remember exactly how Ben had spent his first week here at Vought. It made whatever the hell you'd just been feeling dissipate.
“Ashley was right, she certainly seems different than the others you’ve brought here. At least she’s wearing more clothes-“ Stan purses his lips looking you up and down. “Are you sure that you want her with you tonight? It is a big debut and-“
Stan was talking as if you weren’t there, as if what he was saying wasn’t insulting.
“What the fuck do you want?” Ben interrupts in a growl.
“We need to talk about how tonight is going to go. Not to mention Ashley has been waiting outside the door trying to muscle up the courage to knock so she can dress your date.”
“I can dress myself.” You say.
“Not for this.” Stan presses his lips together in a tight line, again looking you up and down as if you're a stain on his perfect suit.
Ben’s anger burns hot in the air, and you’re not sure if it’s because Stan interrupted the two of you or if it’s because he insulted you or if it’s because Stan just reminded you that you’re not special to Ben.
Because I’m not. No one who goes through women like that cares about them. What was I thinking? Ben’s probably using all of this in his grand plan of trying to sleep with me.
“Fine. Give me a minute and I’ll meet you outside.” Ben replies through gritted teeth..
“Don’t keep me waiting.” Stan gives you one more disappointed glance before he walks out the bedroom door.
Ben sighs as he turns back to you. “I-“
“It’s okay just go.” You take a step back from him. It was easier to clear your head when you couldn’t smell his shampoo or feel how wonderfully warm he is. “I’ll see you tonight. I guess.”
Ben hesitates as if there’s something he wants to say, but finally he sighs. “I’ll come pick you up. I think they're gonna fucking dress me somewhere else”
“Okay.” You nod once.
And as he walks out another uncomfortable thought begins to squeeze at your insides
What if this is Ben’s big move? Showing a woman a fancy apartment with a sprawling view of the city while inviting them to an exclusive party and acting like a completely different person, just to finally get me to sleep with him?
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The flashing of the cameras and loud voices of the reporters shouting question after question made you dizzy. The brilliant lights blinding you as flash after flash barraged your senses from all sides. The lights were uncomfortably warm and the cameras that pointed at you made you feel like you were under a microscope.
It had taken an entire make up team and the four hours before the event to make sure that you were ready, with Ashley barking orders over the mad scramble of hands that touched every part of your body with no sense of shame. They had forced you to take a shower, and scrubbed your body so hard that you were sure there were skin cells missing, before yanking you out from under the warm water to dry you and tug and pull your hair in all different directions, trying to figure out exactly how you should have it done.
Whenever you tried to protest, someone would tell you how "fucking hot" you looked or how "sexy" you were. It didn’t make you feel any better and all you could think about was you hoped Ben was being subjected to such torture in another room of the Tower somewhere.
The team had rubbed you in creams from plastic containers and shiny body scrub so that you glittered under the lights and then slathered your face with more make up than you'd ever worn in your entire life. You felt like a doll being abused by a four-year-old who got her hands on a new make-up kit on Christmas morning.
When you'd finally thought it was over, Ashley had brought over a velvet box that held a diamond and emerald pendant that was bigger than the size of your thumb and made you feel sick to your stomach to think about how many groceries you could buy with the money it cost.  When she tried to put it on you, you'd waved your hand and said that you didn't want it, but then she'd said that "Soldier Boy bought it especially for you and she'd be damned if she got killed over a fucking necklace." The drop emerald and diamond earrings that matched could have easily bought your grandmother's house in Illinois, but Ashley again refused to listen to your protests.
You didn't know why he'd bought you something so extravagant, especially if you were only going to be there for one night. The memory of what Stan called you followed the entire dressing process: “the new one.”
All it did was remind you that Ben didn’t want a relationship, and it was stupid to consider anything else despite how gentle he had been acting moments before Stan showed up.
The dress that Ashley had shoved you into was the same dark green of Ben’s supe suit, but made of a shimmery fabric that caught in the light. It was surprisingly close to the same style of the red one you wore to infiltrate the fundraiser weeks ago.
It hugged your body, clinging to the natural dips and curves, accentuating them and leaving nothing to the imagination.  It was completely backless, held together by thin criss-crossing dark green fabric straps across the back that were so fragile you thought that any moment they would break. The front of the dress was plain and strapless, arching over the top of your breasts and cinched at the waist so tight you’re not sure how you’re breathing.
And it wasn't you, none of it was. The dress, the expensive jewelry, the party- it made you feel like you were five years old again and playing dress up with Annie in your grandmother's attic.
In the past whenever Annie did your makeup for you, at least she made you look like you, but after one look in the mirror, you didn't see you.
You wondered if this was what Ben wanted women to look like, so far from how they naturally looked, almost as if they were a shadow of themselves and plastered to be a perfect version of what an "ideal woman" should be.
But there was one piece of this outfit that seemed like you. There was a gardenia corsage on your right wrist, something that Ben had given you when you met up privately before your big entrance on the red carpet.
It had made you smile, something old fashioned he'd thought of and yet he knew you would like it because he knew that you loved gardenias. You were flattered that he'd remembered. He'd looked a little uncomfortable when he gave it to you, the same way that he always looked a little uncomfortable when things got a bit too personal, but he'd grunted out a "you like it?" and you couldn't help but smile up at him and nod, because you did.
And it seemed to tear you apart inside, because you wished you knew why Ben was doing all of this for you, why it was so imperative for you to see what this kind of life was like.
"Soldier Boy, is it true that you were overseas for 40 years?" A reporter screams from the sidelines into a microphone.
"Soldier Boy, who is she? Is she your new girlfriend? What's your name honey?" Another screams at you, but you don't answer.
"Are you a supe?"
"Show us your powers honey!"
It felt like you were on display and your words were caught in the back of your throat. Ben was next to you smiling and waving his hand, the epitome of cool, but you knew that you didn't look it. Your smile felt tight, and you were sure that the make-up plastered on your face was moments away from melting off your face.
His hair was slicked back in a very un-Ben way, his tailored suit was a dark green, so dark that it almost looked black except in the flashes of the camera, and he was wearing a black tie that shimmered whenever he turned.
You didn't think that Ben looked like Ben either, and something tightened around your throat when you looked at him, because all you could think was that this was the Ben he was becoming again to re-emerge into the public, the Ben you'd seen clips of in music videos, pictures, and old movies that donned the Soldier Boy uniform.
A little piece of your heart broke to see him like that, so different than the Ben who had gone to IKEA with you, the Ben who had checked on you when you had a nightmare, and the Ben who had slept in the hospital to make sure that you were okay.
And now that he was coming back to all of this, you thought that it meant you were losing him, and it hurt more than you'd realized.
The spotlights were blazing hot, your stilettoed black sandals were stuck in the red carpet, and you could feel the prickle of anxiety in the center of your chest crackling to life and spreading through the rest of your body. The urge to run was settling on your limbs, your body tenses, preparing to bolt-
Ben's arm comes around your waist and he pulls you against his chest, still smiling at the reporters, his hand now resting on the small of your back, and your hand goes to the front of his suit to steady yourself. He brushes his lips against your ear.
"It's okay Petals, I'm right here." He whispers, but you catch it.
His touch calms you, grounds you to the moment, and for a second the smile you have is genuine when the cameras continue to flash, your heart rate slowing with the warmth of his hand against your back.
"Thank you! That's enough photos." Ben flashes a winning smile and leads you past the paparazzi and into where the party is. He rolls his eyes with a sigh. "Fucking vultures."
You don't answer, instead you look around at all the other elegantly dressed people at the party, supes and non supes, and waiters who weave through the crowds with trays of food. You hadn't eaten anything all day, the only thing you'd had was a few sips of that latte, but you weren’t hungry
You felt so out of your element, so completely out of place, and the way you were dressed made you feel like a fraud. Annie had told you that she sometimes felt that way, but it passed. You knew that it wouldn’t for you.
She was here with Hughie. You'd seen her for a second and she'd looked at you in surprise. You hadn't been able to tell her that you were coming to this thing, because Ashley had confiscated your phone, stating that you didn't have enough of an "online presence" to post anything of worth.
You were living for the moment that Annie found you and you could collapse into her and hug her. Being here was just solidifying the fact that you weren't what Ben wanted, that Ben wanted this life, women, drugs, fame, and all you had was a crappy one-bedroom apartment in a shitty neighborhood.
And all you were was a hopeless romantic searching for something in someone that would never exist.
"Are you okay?" Ben asks you, and you snap back into reality. He's raising an eyebrow at you, looking almost concerned.
You hate that he was doing that, acting like he cared, when all it did was give you the false hope that he would turn into someone different, someone who wanted to have a relationship.
"Yeah, it was just a lot."
Ben clocks your frown and the scrunch between your eyebrows that he knows is you tell for when you lie. You hope that he doesn't point it out. 
"Ben look, I know that you think that all of this is-" You wave a hand. "But it's not me. I'm not this girl I'm not-" Your voice catches for just a second. "The party, this dress, the jewelry I-"
"You don't like the necklace?" Ben frowns.
"I mean it's pretty, but all I can think about is how much it cost. And how expensive the insurance policy must be for it." Ben's lip quirks up in a smile. "I think you're the first person to ever think that when I got them jewelry."
"Exactly Ben. I don't know why you want me here. Stan said you should have brought a date-date, you know like them." You point at the twins hanging on Deep's arm who laugh and jump with whatever he says, both wearing identical dresses that look like they were rigged with fishnet and seaweed.
"I don't give a fuck what Stan Edgar thinks, and I wanted you to come to this with me. Just give it a chance, we've only been here a few minutes." Ben replies, but for a moment you think you see something that looks a little bit like disappointment in his eyes.
You bite your cheek and search his gaze, hoping to catch another glimpse of it, but you don't. "Okay." You relent, nodding your head.  
Ben stands there for another minute surveying the room, watching the couples begin to dance on the dance floor, and others wobbling their way to the bar. He looks a little lost in thought, so you don't interrupt him.
"Wait here. I'll be right back." He squeezes your forearm before he vanishes into the crowd without another word.
"But-" You begin to say, but he'd already gone. You audibly sigh and begin to sway back and forth to the song, something that you're not sure the name of, but the words are melancholic, a man singing about a woman who thinks falling in love with him is madness.
Someone taps you on the shoulder and you expect it to be Annie, but when you turn you see Jake. He's smiling at you, his shaggy blondish brown hair falling forward into his tortoiseshell glasses, and he's wearing a charcoal-colored suit. There's a bandage on the left side of his face hiding a cut you can't see, but you knew what it was from. You'd never seen him in a suit and maybe the old you would have noted how good he looks, but you can't, not when seeing him is a shocking reminder of everything that happened with your brother.
"Jake? What are you doing here?" You sputter.
"My dad is one of Vought's lawyers." He shrugs. "Invited me to this. I think he thought it would cheer me up after well… you know."
"Fuck, Jake I am so sorry for what happened. I really didn't mean to drag you into all of that or-" Before you can finish your sentence, he pulls you into a tight hug.
"You don't have to apologize." Jake says not stopping the hug. "What happened wasn't your fault. Annie told me what happened."
"But I destroyed your shop. And your face! I-"
He pulls back with a wide smile, the same one that he'd had all the years that you'd worked for him. "It's okay. Honestly it could have been a lot worse, but Ben pulled from the wreckage. Guy saved my life. I owe him big."
"He what?" You ask confused. You remember that Ben said he'd seen someone else helping Jake from the rubble.
Why would he lie about that?
"He saved my life." Jake smiles wider. "Not to mention he called today, said that he's going to bankroll me for a whole new shop. For a guy who acts like he hates me, he's sure putting in a lot of money."
"He's going to pay for a new shop?"
"Yep. Good thing too. Thought I was going to have to be a lawyer again."
"You weren't too good at that." You snort.
"Don't remind me." He groans. "So you're a supe. And Ben is Soldier Boy?"
"Yeah, it's a long story."
"I guess I should have known you were a supe. No one can make plants grown that fast." Jake jokes, his glasses catching the lights. "And Ben's intimidating so, that tracks.”
"Guess so."
It was weird to talk to him again. You'd been avoiding it for the better part of a week, but the two of you were falling into the same patterns you had in the past, and it was nice.
But for the first time since you'd started working for Jake, you don't see the appeal of dating him. It was odd. All the qualities in a man that you were looking for was right in front of you and you felt… nothing. Sure Jake was cute in a puppy sort of way but-
"Ben hey." Jake smiles at where Ben appears over your shoulder, back from whatever mysterious location he had been in moments ago.
"Jake." He grunts his name and you can only imagine Ben's frown.
Jake looks back at you. "It was good to see you. We should meet up to talk about where I should put the shop and what I should name it. Ben had this great idea about adding fresh produce and fruit, and maybe doing a farmer's market on the weekend. I know how much you like that sort of thing." Jake looks up at Ben and extends his hand. "Thanks again Ben, you saved my ass, and I think this new shop is going to be great."
Ben takes it. "Don't mention it. Really." His voice lowers like it's a threat. "Don't fucking mention it to anyone."
"Sure." Jake winks at you before he walks away through the crowd in the direction of the bar.
There's an awkward moment of silence as you turn to look at Ben.
"Didn't take you long to find that pussy did it?" Ben's jaw is clenched tight and you notice that he looks a little angry.
"He found me." You find yourself feeling guilty, and maybe you were because you were technically here with Ben, but it wasn't a date. He was just showing you what all of this was like.
"Sure. Bet you were just waiting for me to fucking leave so you could get your hands on the perfect man." Ben shakes his head and begins to turn away.
"Careful there Gramps, someone might think you're jealous." You tease, scooting around him to stand in his way.
"How many times do I have to tell you that I am not fucking jealous of him and-“
Before Ben can finish his sentence, you pull him in for a hug. You know that he was angry for some unknown reason, but you didn't want to be angry with him, not when he saved Jake's life, and not when Ben told Jake to add fresh produce, fruit, and a farmer's market because he'd remembered that it was your dream.
"Thank you Ben." You whisper into his chest, his body tenses in surprise just the way it was the last time you hugged him.
"You're welcome." He's not hugging you back, he's more resting his hands on your waist, and slowly very slowly you feel his right arm begin to raise enough to hold you for just a few precious seconds more against him. It made your heart beat stutter, because it was the closest thing that Ben had ever done to hug you back.
When you pull away your cheeks are flushed bright red, and the gardenia on your wrist now has a second bloom that Ben notices. He touches the delicate petals with a wide understanding smirk, his eyes catching yours.
"Guess you're having a good time now." Ben breathes.
"I might be." You whisper back. "Why didn't you tell me that you saved him?"
"Who?"
"Jake."
Ben frowns at the mention of Jake's name, his fingertips still tracing the petals where they barely kiss your skin. "It didn't matter."
"You saved his life. It does."
"I didn't want you to think that I did it because I gave a shit about him."
"What?"
Ben's frown deepens. "I'm not a good person Petals, I don't give a shit about him."
"Then why did you save him?"
He doesn't answer.
"Ben." You say softly, touching the front of his suit and he widens his eyes at your boldness. "Talk to me."
"I saved him because I didn't want you to find out that you killed him. I knew that you were going through a lot and I know you think that he's so fucking perfect and he's the man you love or whatever." Ben says it bitterly and it was the first time you think that you'd ever heard him sound that way.
"I don't love him."
"You will." Ben grits his teeth. "Because he's everything you want."
"Is that why you're giving him money for the plant shop? Because you think that I-"
"No, I did that because I know how much you love that fucking place and how much you hate all of this and being here with me and-"
"I don’t hate being here with you Ben." You admit before you can stop yourself. "I mean all of this isn't my favorite, but… you're my friend."
It hurt you a bit to say friend, but you didn’t want Ben to think that you hated him, not after he had saved Jake because he knew that it would have crushed you if you'd killed him, and not when he told Jake to add produce, fruits, and a weekend farmer's market just for you.
Ben stands there for a minute, the cameras flashing in the corner of your eye, and the longer you stand there, you're suddenly aware that "Gonna Sing You My Love Song" By ABBA was playing in the background, an odd choice for a party like this.
You look up at him in confusion, and Ben is smiling sheepishly, before you realize that was why Ben walked away before Jake showed up, to tell them to play it for you. Ben's hand lands against the small of your back and he begins to lead you towards the dance floor.
"What where are we going?"
"We're going to dance."
"Oh no. Ben I don't know how to dance and-"
"Just follow my lead Petals." He pulls you against him, putting your left hand on his right shoulder while his right hand finds the small of your back and his left hand catches your right.
You know that you must look ridiculous as you try to wobble along following Ben's lead.
"It's okay Petals, it's just us." Ben whispers with a smile, pulling you just a little tighter against him as the two of you begin to sway to the music.
And the longer you sway to the music, the more comfortable you feel being there with Ben. The warmth of his hand warming your body, his green eyes only focused on you, and the soft smile on his lips so unlike the Ben you saw smiling for the cameras a few minutes ago.
"Ben?"
"Hmm?"
"Why is it so important to you that I experience all of this?"
"Because everything you know about supes is from Billy Fucking Butcher. It's not always the way he says."
"But that doesn't really answer my question. Why is it important to you?"
Ben doesn't answer for a few seconds, measuring what he says. "Because I want you to like it."
"Why?"
“Because-“
And this time, instead of finishing his sentence, Ben leans forward and kisses you. His lips move with a softness that you never knew that he possessed, the hand he had on the small of your back holding you tighter against him, as your body molds into his.
This kiss is different than the one that the two of you shared outside of your apartment the first night he stayed with you, it’s filled with something unspoken that makes the weight in your chest lighten, that makes you feel as if you're floating above the dance-floor, but then something clamps down tight on your ankle and drags you back down to earth.
The song continues to play, the soft notes and words bringing back the memory of your parents dancing in a darkened kitchen lit only by candlelight, with your father looking at your mother as if she was his whole world. Their love and your grandparent's love had infused your childhood with something magical, a romance that seemed to transcend time and space, you knew how much you wanted it.
And standing here with Ben kissing you only reminded you that he didn't want that, that he didn't want a relationship, that all he wanted was to sweep you off your feet and make you his for only one night when you wanted a lifetime.
You suddenly heard Stan Edgar's words ringing in your ears when he called you the "new one." Just another in a sea of women who threw themselves at Ben for this exact reason, for his suave attitude, extravagant gifts, and lavish parties where he brought them to cling to his arm.
You remember what Annie said about how Ben spent his entire week in the apartment upstairs, how he spent a whole week fucking his way through whatever came his way instead of calling you or texting you back, and how he didn't seem to care that you wanted to reach him.
And it snaps you out of it.
You pull back from Ben's kiss and out of his arms, your head swimming with emotion. The urge to cry comes up in the back of your throat like vomit, but you shove it down.
Ben looks surprised and you figure that he is, because it hadn't worked, you hadn't fallen for it the way the others had.
He says your name for the first time in a long time, but you shake your head and take another step back from him.
"I can't do this Ben." You turn and flee through the crowds, feeling everyone's eyes on you as you stumble on shaky legs towards the elevator.
You can hear Ben saying your name again and then hear Annie, but you ignore them. You can't be here, you can't go back to the prying eyes of the reporters, and you can't look at Ben, not when he was pretending to give you everything you wanted and you could feel your heart breaking.
The doors of the elevator close just as before Ben reaches them, and your eyes lock with his through the thin opening. He looks the way he did the day you left him standing in the street the day you killed Darren. The same look flashes in his eyes, shock, worry, and maybe just a little bit of fear, but you can't look at him anymore.
The numbers on top of the elevator passes in a blur, the tears finally bubbling up and spilling over your cheeks, the make-up that was so meticulously applied smudging, but you don't care.
You want to get out of this dress, get Rex, and go home. Your real home, where Bean is waiting for you, curled up on the couch, where your plants are, where you could crawl into bed under the covers and forget that this entire night ever happened.
But then you remember how cold it felt when you left this morning to get coffee with Annie, when you were aware of how empty it was when Ben wasn't there.
No. Please just let me get through this.
You practically shoot from a cannon when the elevator opens onto Ben's floor.
Rex greets you at the door with a toothy grin, now the size of a Labrador, jumping from where he was curled on the plush leather couch to come say hello.
You scratch him under the chin, your tears still falling and you knew that they wouldn't stop anytime soon. Everything was crashing down on you again, everything you were realizing that you felt about Ben.
You stumble through the large apartment towards the bedroom hoping to find your clothes where Ashley had wadded them into a plastic garbage bag as if she couldn't look at denim overalls without vomiting. 
And as you reach the bedroom door, you hear the door of the apartment open and Ben shout your name.
For a second you think about locking the bedroom door, but you figure that he'll only break it down. Ben’s track record with locked doors wasn't the best and you didn’t want this one to suffer.
You snag the plastic bag from the corner of the room just as he opens the bedroom door.
"Petals, what the fuck is going on? Why did you-" Ben begins to say, shutting the door on Rex who was sitting just outside.
"I can't do this Ben." You interrupt him.
"Do what?"
"Any of this!" You wave your hand around the room for emphasis. "I'm not this girl. And I'm not some bimbo that you can wine and dine and fuck and then throw away."
"What in the actual fuck are you talking about?"
“I can’t do this." You repeat with a sob, tears curling down your cheeks. You couldn't quite look at him, not without feeling like your heart was burning up. "So, whatever fucked up science experiment this is I want out. I can’t be here.”
“I thought we were having a good time? That you were enjoying yourself?” Ben says. "We were dancing and then I-"
“Why? Because you were pretending to be the man that I’ve always wanted, the one that keep telling me you aren’t? By making me fall in love with a version of you that doesn’t exist? So after you get what you want you just leave me?” You spit.
It hurt you to say the words to him, but it was how you felt. You felt like Ben was yanking you around on an emotional chain, trying to manipulate you by doing kind things, by acting like he cared, just so that you'd finally give in to him after saying no to him since the moment the two of you met.
It made you feel stupid to think that there was a part of you that believed he could be the man you fell in love with.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you down there changing tactics to manipulate me!”
“What?” Ben shouts looking utterly confused.
“Manipulate my emotions by playing that song, saving Jake, telling him to open a fucking farmer's market, and holding me like you actually care with the reporters and kissing me the way I want!"
“I wasn’t trying to fucking manipulate you-“
“Don’t try to lie. I know when you’re lying.” You point a finger at him, ripping the gardenia corsage from your wrist and tossing it across the room at him.
It hits him square in the chest and falls to the floor.
“I never fucking lie to you.”
"Oh please." You could feel the anger, frustration, and the feelings you had for Ben that you pushed down coming to a head. "You do. And I refuse to be 'the new one.'"
Ben's eyes widen in realization. "Are you talking about what that piece of shit Stan said when he saw you earlier today?"
"What else?! Annie told me exactly how you spent your glorious and masterful return to Vought. How you had Stan Edgar bus in women for you all week long!" You reach around to remove the necklace and the ears, fearful that you’ll break them in your anger.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"IT HAS EVERYTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING!" You scream so loud you were sure that the words were vibrating against the windows. "It's how I know you're manipulating me! Because if you really did care about me, and care what I like, and want to be the man who I saw downstairs or the man that came to check on me when I was having a nightmare or the man who sat in the hospital for days you wouldn't have been doing that all week. You would have been in Illinois with me!"
"I told you why I wasn't fucking there!" Ben shouts back just as loud.
"Oh sure. Mr. "I didn't think you'd want me there" What a great fucking excuse, just let me swoon!" You snarl back. The tears were falling faster now and showed no signs of stopping.
Ben's teeth grit together and he looks close to exploding, but you see him gain control. "Just shut up for one fucking second and let me explain."
But you're already past all of this. You were so tired emotionally and physically, so out of touch with everything that by now you could feel yourself slipping into insanity.
"No Ben, because you know what?" By now you're so frustrated that you're almost laughing. "Congratulations! Your big plan paid off!"
"What?"
"You've done it! You've won. You finally wore me down Ben. You finally did everything that I wanted, so come on let's do it! Let's fuck! Because who cares about all the fucking romantic pussy shit right?" Your hands scramble against the dress, the delicate material tearing off in your hands easily and leaving you in the lacy black bra and underwear that Ashley had forced you into.  You advance on Ben, throwing away the ruined dress. "This is what you wanted right? Me naked and completely yours? So let's go! No emotions no nothing. Who needs any of that as long as you get laid? You'll get your five to ten minutes, and then you'll throw me away. Just like you throw away all those other women!"
Ben looks at you stunned as if he thinks you've lost your mind and maybe you have. Because you were so sick of this, of all of this, for trying so hard to refuse him, for trying to hold out for someone who you didn’t think you’d ever meet.
"But it's fine. Throw me away! People have manipulated me and thrown me away my whole life, but whatever you want Ben. Because it’s all about you! Oh wait do you want me to call you Soldier Boy? Would that make all of this better for you?"
Ben still hasn't moved and by now you're standing just a few inches away from you, the expression on his face unreadable.
You grip the front of his suit. "Come on. Take off your clothes!"
He says your name in a low tone, but you don’t listen to him.
"Oh what? Were you expecting something different? You want to pretend that you're going to make love to me? You think that’ll help?”
He says your name again.
"Oh you don't want me now? Is that it? Because I'm finally giving you everything you want?" You rip the suit jacket off of him, and reach to grab his shirt, tearing it and sending buttons flying everywhere.
"Petals." Ben growls, his jaw tight.
“No! Come on. You pretended to be everything I want, you deserve a good fuck. Come on!” You tug at what's left of his shirt, losing the fight to the emotions that continue to crash over you, sobs shaking your shoulders. You beat your fists against his chest, and you know that he probably doesn't feel it, but it feels so damn good to hit him to release whatever the hell all of this was.
Ben's hands come up to grip your wrists the best he can to stop you, but by now you can't form words. Uncontrollable sobs are shaking your body, tears blurring your vision, your breath coming in savage gasps that do little to bring oxygen into your lungs. The makeup is smeared over your cheeks and you know that you look like a drowned raccoon by now, but you don’t care.
He whispers your name in a soft tone, in a way that you've never heard him say before, and it only makes you cry harder.
You collapse into his chest, shaking uncontrollably. You couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything except cling to the tatters of his dress shirt and sob into his chest.
Ben picks you up, scooping under your knees as if you weight absolutely nothing and places you on his bed, but instead of staying there with you he walks away and it breaks something inside, because all you can think is that you'd finally done it, you'd finally proven to him that you wouldn’t be one of the women who gave in and he really no longer would pretend to care about you.
You grab for one of the pillows, smearing your make-up onto the fabric and clutching it to your chest like a lifeline. You could hear Rex outside the door scratching because he wanted to check in on you, but you can't get up.
The bed dips and when you look up Ben is sitting there with a wash-cloth in his hand.
"What?" You sniffle.
"Close your eyes." He says.
You do as he says, sitting up so he can see you better. The washcloth drags over your cheeks, wiping away the makeup that was smudged and caked over your red cheeks.
“I never really liked makeup. When I was younger all the women used to look natural didn’t wear all this shit on their faces.” He rumbles. "I kind of like that you don't wear it as much."
The pressure of the cloth is surprisingly gentle against your cheeks far gentler than you would have thought possible. He adjusts his left hand to cup your cheeks, and as another tear falls you feel his thumb brush it away. The methodical stroking of the washcloth against your skin is calming your racing heart and Ben is quiet for another few minutes, focusing on his task.
Finally, he withdraws his washcloth and sets it down on the bedside table, next to the pothos. You feel his weight shift away from you.
“Put this on. Because you in my bed in your fucking underwear is really testing my restraint.”
You open your eyes and see that he's holding his dark t-shirt, the one from earlier that he wore when he came to pick you up. You raise your eyes to look at him, trying to gauge what he's feeling, but he's keeping his cards close to his chest.
You slip the shirt over your head and as soon as you do, Ben tucks it under you.
Ben was being more gentle than usual. Gentler than you'd ever seen him be. It was making you dizzy. Because again, he was acting like a completely different person. The person that you wanted him to be, the person that he could be to make you fall in love with him.
He swallows.
“I didn’t bring you to Vought because I thought I could manipulate you into sleeping with me.” Ben pauses to readjust. “I mean the thought crossed my mind, that maybe you would be more open to sleeping with me. I'm not perfect Petals, I'm just a fucking man."
You're clutching the pillow to your chest still, trying to understand what he was saying. His thigh is brushing against yours from where he sits on the edge of the bed.
“And you’re right I do want you. I’ve always wanted you, since the moment I saw you.”
“I know that-“
“Let me fucking finish.” He snaps
You sigh and rub your cheeks with the back of your hand.  The expression on his face is almost pained, frustration shines behind his eyes as if he hates what he's about to admit.
“I’m such a fucking pussy.” Ben shakes his head, saying it more to himself than to you.
What?
“I wanted to have you. And you kept saying no. Which normally I wouldn’t care, I would just move on, but you fucking did something to me. Whenever I was fucking someone else all I thought about was you. You yelling at me, or going off about some stupid shit that I did, when I know that I did it the right way." He huffs. "And it-shit- It made me guilty."
"Guilty?"
"Yes!" He snaps.
"Why?"
"I don't fucking know! It just did!"
Your eyes widen in shock. It was the last thing that you were expecting Ben to say.
"I've never, never cared about anyone other than me. ME. I'm Soldier Boy. I'm not supposed to have any kind of weakness especially not for someone like you." Ben spits the word 'you' like a curse.
"Like me?" You whisper with a sniffle. By now the tears are about to start falling again. You didn’t know what he thought this was, but it just seemed like he was insulting you. "Ben I don't understand what you're saying."
“Yes like you! You’re-“ He gestures to you as if he can’t really find the words. “You’re fucking annoying , you crochet those ridiculous sweaters, you like plants, you get people presents for their birthdays, you sing in the shower, you care about other people-“
“So I act like a person?” You wipe away the tears with the back of your hand.
“No! You-“ He roars in frustration and rises from the bed, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
You can see the glow in the center of his chest burning hot as if he's about to explode, but he gets it under control.
“When Diana called me and told me that you wanted me there I-“ Ben's jaw tightens. “I wanted to come, but I hate how much I care about you because I fucking shouldn’t!”
“You hate how much you care about me?”
"I knew that I was in too deep, so when Stan called I jumped at the chance to get out of Butcher's shitty little outfit! I came here and I had him bus in all those women so I could fuck it out of my system, fuck you out of my system but I can't!" His eyes flash around the room with anger and frustration. "Because when I moved out I realized it meant I wouldn’t see you. It meant that I wouldn’t hear you bitch about me doing something wrong, I wouldn’t see your cheeks get fucking red right before you tell me off, I wouldn't smell that damn grapefruit shampoo that follows you around.” By now he almost looks angry, shouting more at himself than at you. "I wouldn't see you sitting on that stupid fucking couch in those sweatpants that drive me crazy while you crochet like a fucking old person. And I wouldn't see the way all the plants in your apartment turn towards you when you walk in or how they all fucking bloom when you smile."
Wait a minute, is he saying that he misses me when I'm gone? That he missed seeing me as much as I missed seeing him when he didn't come to Illinois?
"And I fucking saved that pussy's life because I knew it would destroy you if you found out he died. And I wanted to fund his new plant shop with a damn farmer's market because you said that was your dream and yeah maybe I wanted you to like all of this-" Ben waves his arms around the room. "But I want you to be happy Petals! I fucking hate it when you cry and I hate what happened with your brother and everything that happened with that piece of shit Elijah. I wanted you to have a choice to leave it all, because the shit that Butcher puts you through every damn week isn't for you! I've known that since the day we fucking met."
You felt your chest tighten with his confession, because you suddenly realize that Ben was trying to give you a way out, he was trying to pull you away from Butcher's line of work because he knew it wasn't for you.
It was the conversation the two of you had the first night he stayed with you, when he said that you didn't quite "fit." It was true. You didn't love working for Butcher and you only stuck around to be with Annie, but the fact that Ben cared enough to try and give you an out, something that not even Butcher had done, made you feel like crying all over again. By now he was pacing the room, talking more to himself than to you, almost as if he didn't really want to tell you what he was feeling.
And despite never telling Ben, he figured out that you felt more like you at the plant shop.
"I don't know what you fucking did to me. I've never felt any of this shit before! Even with that bitch Countess this was different! It wasn't like this! I can't sleep without hearing you breathing, I can't eat without knowing that you ate- because you always fucking forget to eat some shit, and I can't survive without seeing you. So are you happy? You've turned me into a pussy. Because yeah I'd still like to fuck your brains out, but now I don't want to do that with anyone else I just want to do it with you." He shouts it pointing a finger at you as if he's accusing you of being a witch. 
He is in love with me. Soldier Boy is in love with me. BEN IS IN LOVE WITH ME.
The realization hits you like a ton of bricks to the chest, that even though Ben tried to distance himself from you, he had fallen, he had done the one thing that he swore than he never was going to.
"Ben-" You start to say in a whisper, but he keeps going.
"So no at the party I wasn't trying to manipulate you. I held you close in the photos because I knew you were scared. That’s why I made the cunts stop taking pictures. I kissed you like that because you were looking up at me with that look in your eyes that makes me fucking burn. I had them play that damn song because I wanted you to be happy to be there with me, especially after that fucking pussy Jake came over and touched you. Do you have any idea what it does to me when he touches you? Or when he makes you fucking smile about some shit? Or when he looks at you? Or the way you look at him?" His chest is glowing again. The tatters of his shirt are still hanging off his body from where you ripped it open.
"Ben-"
"And yeah, maybe I'm not some wimp who likes fucking plants. And maybe you're right, maybe I'm not the guy you bring home to meet your parents, but all I fucking want is for you to look at me the way you look at him!" He snarls and your mouth drops open in shock. "Do you have any idea how fucking ridiculous that is? I don't get jealous! I have fucked so many women and never given a shit if they had someone else, but I'm not even fucking you and the thought of you with him makes me want to-"
"Ben!" You shout over his monologue.
"What?" Ben snaps face contorted with rage.
You swallow. "I love you too."
And you know it's the truth, you know that it's exactly what you've been ignoring and what you've been fighting tooth and nail to avoid admitting to yourself because you were afraid that you were going to get hurt. You were afraid to have those kinds of feelings for Ben, because you thought he would only break your heart and push you away.
You can hear your grandmother's words ringing in your ears:
"There's something else that you refuse to admit to yourself because you're scared. You should though, because when you embrace it, what comes after is really beautiful."
You had been so afraid to fall for the wrong man, but looking at Ben now and listening to everything he said to you, everything he admitted didn't make you think that he was the wrong man anymore. It made you realize that he was the right man, but only for you.
Ben is still staring at you, face contorted with his rage and frustration, eyes burning with the jealousy that he's never allowed himself to admit aloud.
But you refuse to take it back. It was true, maybe the truest thing that you have ever admitted in your entire life, and you didn't regret it.
You knew you loved him even when he made a disgusting joke or teased you or drove you to the point of insanity. You knew that it was why Ben was able to push all your buttons just the right way in a way no one ever had. You knew that was why your apartment was so empty and why you kept thinking that something was missing when he wasn’t there.
Because you loved Ben, and nothing else in your life seemed to matter.
His entire body is pulled tense, the glow in his chest dimming until it's completely gone. And for just a moment you think that Ben is going to start yelling at you again and accusing you of bewitching him, but he doesn't.
Ben crosses the room in two powerful strides and practically tackles you back onto the bed. His mouth fits against yours, urgent, demanding, but also filled with things unsaid. The feelings that both of you had for so long colliding, like a supernova, making your body ignite. You melt into him, feeling the comforting weight of his body settle on top of yours like a heated blanket as you sink into the blankets beneath you.
You hate that you denied yourself this indulgence for so long, not when it feels like Ben was made for you. Not when every single twist of his tongue sends you further into overdrive and makes something at the back of your mind scream “MORE!” at the top of its lungs.
Ben’s body fits perfectly over yours, his hands holding on to your cheeks so tight as if he’s afraid you’re going to pull away from him again as if he thinks you’ll run like you did.
A part of you knows that you’ll always feel guilty for that, for running from Ben when he kissed you on the dance floor. But you won’t feel guilty for this.
The world falls silent and you’re left with Ben.
The man who seemed to be wrong for you in every way, the one who told you that he didn’t believe in romance, and the man who you can’t live without.
“Ben-“ You moan into his mouth your arms wrapped under his arms to hold him close to you, afraid that he’s going to cut and run. “Ben wait-“
“What?” He smiles down at you the same way he did the morning you woke up next to him. And it’s the same way you wanted to make him smile for the rest of your life. Not the cocky smirk,but the soft smile that you felt Ben only reserved for you.
But before you can answer, Ben dips his mouth down and kisses you again. It’s not with the same burning intensity as before, but this time it’s with the gentle movement of his lips against yours, the soft nudge of his nose while his scruff rubs against your cheeks in a way that makes you sigh into his mouth.
“What is it Petals?” He whispers pulling back.
You gently shuffle your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, loving the way the strands fall between your fingertips and scrunching it out of the slicked back style it was earlier. He looks more like himself now. “Can we go back to the apartment?”
“You want to leave?” Ben frowns. “You don’t want to stay with me?” The way his voice shifts just a little, breaks your heart and you pull his face back down so you can kiss him again.
How can he think that I don't want to stay with him if I just admitted that I loved him? Is that how it was with Countess? That she promised him those little things and then left him?
“Of course I want to stay with you Ben. I just like the apartment more."
“Then why?”
“Because it’s cold here. There’s no warmth and nothing familiar. It’s like a museum. And I miss Bean.”
“But-“
“I know that you’re used to this and that you like all of this, but I don’t. I’m not this girl. I’m not the parties and the jewelry and the millions of screaming fans and the ridiculous dresses. I like my little crappy apartment and my five hundred jobs and just staying in to watch movies and eat pizza or read a book and I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing?” His hand cups your cheek.
“Because this is what you like. The fans, the parties, the apartment on the top floor of Vought tower-“
“I don’t care about any of it if you’re not with me.” Ben winces as if it physically hurt him to say that. “Fuck. Forget I said that-“
Your lips meet his, gently pulling him further on top of you. “No.” You whisper, pressing another kiss to the tip of his nose. “Because it’s not weak for you to admit that you like having me around. Would you hate it if I said that I hate not being around you?”
“No.” He mutters, but he doesn’t look any less disgusted with himself and you’re not convinced.
"We're going to have to work on that Gramps." You smile kissing him once more. Ben's hands travel from your face down to your hips griping your body even tighter against where he lies in the cradle of your thighs and bringing your legs up to wrap around his waist. "Ben?"
"Hmm?"
"I also don't want to have sex with you in this bed."
"Why not?" He smirks. "It's pretty comfortable."
"Because I don't know when the last time you cleaned the sheets was and I don’t want to think about all the women that have been in here this week."
Ben frowns. "Probably good that you don’t." But then he smirks again, pushing the cotton t-shirt you’re wearing up over your thighs, brushing his fingertips against the soft skin gets closer to everywhere you want him to be, his eyes glinting mischievously. "But you're finally admitting you want to have sex with me?"
"I guess so."
“Good.” He smirks. “Because I think I’ve been patient long enough. And I can’t wait to show you just what you’ve been missing out on.”
“You are so full of-“
Ben cuts you off again, his tongue slipping between your lips while his fingers search even higher to a place that makes you gasp and moan into his mouth.
“You were saying?” You can feel his smirk against your lips and fuck if it’s not the sexiest thing you’ve ever felt.
“I was saying, let’s get out of here.”
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The car drive from Vought Tower to your apartment was ten minutes, and you were very much appreciating the tinted windows and private backseat from the driver. Ben hadn't been able to take his hands off you since the two of you left and you also were enjoying learning how much Ben liked it when you touched him.
You didn't know how you were ever going to stop. Everywhere inside and out of you felt like it was on fire. It had never been this way with any of the men that you'd dated in the past.
Even your first boyfriend, Newton, never made you feel as beautiful and sexy as Ben did, but it felt pointless to compare them. Not when Ben touching you made you feel like you were radioactive and burning from the inside out.
By the time you get to your apartment door, your lips are already swollen and red, and there’s a collection of marks on your neck that Ben was more than happy to place.
“Ben-“ You moan softly trying to fit your key into the lock of your front door.
He was pressed against you, his hands roaming up and down while he sucked another mark into the shadow of your jaw, his beard burning against your delicate skin in a way that made you want to lose yourself in him.
“I’m a little busy at the moment Petals.”
“We’re in public.” You giggle as you try to fit your key in the door again, but Ben pushes you up against it, his large hand reaches low to squeeze your butt and possessively roams his other one over your chest in a way that makes you flush bright red at the thought of anyone seeing the two of you.
Rex was sitting patiently at your feet for the door to open, while looking up and down the hallway for a potential meal.
“So?” Ben rumbles against your throat, and you can feel his smirk against your skin. “I want everyone to know you’re my girl.”
“Everyone or Jake? Because I don’t see him and-“
Ben moves so fast you think you imagine it. Your arms are suddenly wrapped around the back of his neck, and he has your legs tangled around his waist, bracing your back against the door.
“Don’t say his name in front of me.” Ben all but growls, eyes so dark that it sends a shudder down your spine. “Not now.”
“Please don’t be jealous of him.” You whisper, nudging your nose against his, before you kiss him once more. “I stopped noticing him the day you moved in.”
“Oh really?”
You nod.
“Good thing too.” He murmurs with a smirk. “Because I’m about to make you forget him and everything else.”
A shudder goes through your body that Ben notices and the smirk that curves over his lips makes it difficult to breathe.
“Your heart is racing.”  The hand that he has placed under your leg to support you against the door brushes against the soft fabric of the sweatpants he let you borrow moving back to hold on to your ass. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re excited.” He kisses you again, long and drawn out in a way that makes you feel like you’re going to melt into a puddle. “That I excite you.”
He’s going to be the death of me.
“You excite me too.” Ben says kissing the slope of your neck to suck a new mark there, before you can stop him.
“You’re very sure of yourself.” You say out of breath.
“Mhmm.” He moans, but he puts you down to let you open the door.
Your hand finds his as you cross the threshold of the apartment, giving it a gentle squeeze to reassure him.
Bean is lounging on the couch, a lazy smirk on his lips as if he knew exactly what the two of you were about to do, and Rex scuttles over to sit on the other side of the couch, jostling Bean who gives an angry hiss, that Rex ignores.
The air in the apartment is different now that Ben is with you. It’s not cold or dark anymore or empty, it’s warm and light and filled with something that you’re not sure what it is yet, but you can’t wait to find out. And it makes you happy, happier than you’ve ever felt in your entire life.
“So… yours or mine?” Ben murmurs with a smile, his eyes shifting to the couch in your living room before flicking above your head to the darkened hallway where your bedroom is.
“Hmm.” You bite the inside of your cheek as if contemplating something. “Well I was thinking-“ You begin to walk backwards, tugging him in the direction of the bedroom. “What about ours?”
You didn’t think you’d ever seen Ben smile so wide, his eyes softening in the gentle light coming from the lamps in your living room.
“You asking me to move back in?”
“No. I’m asking you to come home.” You whisper because you knew that it was home, that no matter how many times Ben had said it in passing, the word home had changed into something wonderful. 
“I like the sound of that Petals.”
You continue to pull him down the hallway, but before you get to the bedroom, Ben stops.
“Petals?”
“Yeah?” You look up at him suddenly worried.
“I’m not going to lie to you I’m not really that gentle, but I know that’s you want that. That you want someone who’ll make love to you, but I-“ He grimaces when he says the words ‘make love.’ “I don’t know if I can.”
“It’s okay.” You whisper, cupping his bearded cheek. “As long as I have you it doesn’t matter.”
“You do. And I’m going to try.” Ben murmurs. “I want to show you how much you mean to me.”
“I know.” You kiss him again and wonder if he’s ever said that to anyone else. “I trust you Ben.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“Let me decide that.”
And it was true. You knew that Ben wasn’t gentle, but he was with you. And you trusted him. And sure, maybe it wouldn’t look the same way that you’d always imagined when you read those romance books, but it was your love story, your romance, and you didn’t care how it looked as long as Ben was there with you.
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A/N: Well the two idiots finally figured it out in the most dramatic way possible lol. I will say that writing that confession scene might be my favorite thing that I've ever written, goodness it was so fun and I've had it written for AGES 😂😭. I'm not quite done with them yet, I see maybe another chapter or two, but we are quickly nearing the end of this story. Again thank you so much everyone for all the love and support, I really couldn't do it without all the wonderful feedback and love that everyone has shown me. ❤️🥰
If you'd like to ask me about my WIPs for WIP game my asks are open! And my WIPs are listed on this post!
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 please let me know :)
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blueskittlesart · 18 hours ago
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I’m so sorry how much bullshit HP fans are continuing to putting trans people through, Im so fucking sick of it. I mean its international news that jkr is almost single handedly bankrolling the transphobic movement in Scotland and for the second year in a row Ive had to explain to a ‘well meaning’ friend of mine that her harry potter halloween party isn’t just poor taste and I don’t care if she has trans friends who are cool with it I’m not fucking going and its fucking embarrassing. I just wanna shake people. Fucking stand up for something. Consume other media. Sorry not sorry your comfort characters are trash and so are you until you grow the fuck up
what really gets me is that i WAS a huge harry potter fan back in the day. my best friend mailed me a hogwarts letter on my 11th birthday. I got picked to do the wand-choosing thing at universal, and of course i made my parents buy me that fucking $40 wand afterwards. I dressed up as hermione for halloween like 3 years in a row. I've read every single book. I've watched all the movies. I bought the fucking lego sets. but you know what i did when she lost her shit on twitter? i STOPPED FUCKING BUYING HER SHIT. what is so hard about that. genuinely. idc if you used to love the characters. i did too. they don't stand for what we thought they stood for and that sucks but you are an adult and you have to come to terms with the fact that sometimes things aren't what they say they are. find something else to love. or at the very least SHUT. THE FUCK. UP.
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mr-mercutio · 3 days ago
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So here's something that I have learned about patriarchy I want to share: patriarchy is designed to benefit PATRIARCHS. Being the male "head of the family." It's about power and status and hierarchy. To be a patriarch you have to be in charge of others - generally your family. That includes other men! There's no real way to actually escape this, but the closest thing to escaping it for men is to become patriarchs themselves.
My dad was raised in a very strict and traditional catholic household. My opa (his dad) was very much The Head of the Family - even more so because he immigrated to Canada and his father wasn't around, so there was no one above him. He expected obedience from his wife and children, including his two sons, and that was just The Way of Things.
My dad suffered under this quite a lot. And he did the big hippie thing of vowing not to be like his dad - and to his credit, he did try in many ways not to repeat the same mistakes his dad did when being my dad. But the problem is that he still bought into the system of patriarchy. And the only real way to have power in that system is to be a patriarch. So that's what he became. He got a wife and had kids and expected them to defer to him the way he had to defer to his dad. He expected the cycle to continue, but now in his favour.
Problem was that no one else in my immediate family was fine with that. My mom eventually checked out of that. I cut my dad out of my life about 8 years ago. My sisters barely speak to him. We said no, you don't get to control us like that just because you're The Man of the House. You don't get to dictate our lives to us, to tell us how to behave and what's allowed and what isn't, especially as adults. It was chafing enough as kids, but as an adult he still had this expectation that we'd all still defer to him. He would always be right the same was his dad was always right.
And that worldview of his extended to everything outside the family as well - that's why he buys into men's rights nonsense and is anti-choice and thinks the world is too woke. Because he sees that people aren't willing to just prop up the system, and it means he doesn't get the power from it that he was promised. When he was young, it was clear that if he just held out and did what he was told, he would one day be King. And now he doesn't have that and hates it.
I've cut him out of my life because it's been too difficult to stay connected to him. He's hurt me too much and I can't be okay with him anymore. But I'm SAD for him because he's been screwed over by this system just as much as most people I know. Not in the same ways, but still very palpably. But he'll never acknowledge that the problem is the system and not everyone who refuses to follow it. For him, everyone who says no to patriarchy is just wrong and a traitor to how people should live, and he refuses to see that he doesn't benefit from this system because it's a BAD system. It crushed him and remolded him into something to prop itself up, and that's heartbreaking.
The people who support patriarchy are rarely the ones who are actually truly benefiting from it. Yes, men definitely get privilege from the system because it's designed to put men over everyone else. But very few men in the system actually manage to escape the hierarchy of the other men over top of them who make their lives miserable.
If you can, be kind and try to understand and help. It's too late for me and my dad - there's too much bad blood there now and I tried to help for too long without success. I still hope for his sake that he finds a better way to be happy. But there are lots of men out there who would blossom and thrive if they could let go of the idea that patriarchy is going to make them king - and there are more chances than ever that they CAN understand that. Try to give them that chance.
I want there to be fewer MRAs. Do you want that too? Do you want to know what helps us get there, from a feminist perspective?
You may not like my answer: acknowledge that sexism can affect men. Recognize that, although the patriarchy generally privileges men, they are also subject to restrictive gender roles that are harmful to them (shunning all things “feminine,” not showing emotions, being protectors/strong, never admitting being victims of SA/IPV, having to “earn” their manhood, etc.).
Give young men a place other than the right-wing manosphere to be heard about the issues they experience. If these grifters are telling them “only we understand how hard it is to be a man, the left hates you for your gender” and they look to the left and see “men claiming they have ‘problems’ are losers who just hate women, all men are trash,” do you think they’re going to be drawn towards or away from feminism?
Before you leave an angry response: no, this does not mean to center men instead of women in feminism, it just means including them at all. No, it is not “coddling” men to treat them with human dignity, you can and should continue to hold them (and every other gender) responsible for unpacking sexist beliefs. No, this does not mean it is every individual woman’s and feminist’s responsibility to prioritize men’s issues, it just means at the least not shutting them down when they do speak up about sexism. No, it is not “not all men-ing” to point out that “men are trash” sentiments hurt the feminist movement rather than helping it. Ask questions before you make accusations on this post, please. I have been abused by men too, I get it, this isn’t easy to hear.
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tan1shere · 3 days ago
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Her Favorite - Pt 3
Billie Eilish x female reader !
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A/n: this is the last part of this series I hope you all enjoyed it !! This was one of my favs to write <3
Summary: you're the teachers pet. Her. Favorite.
Warnings: smut, tension ? A small tiny argument, fingering, strap, r sucks billies tits, teasing from both parts, slight angst ??? Scissoring - let me know if I missed anything !
Tags - @trulyy-yourzz @eilishslut @brat-at-the-disco @iluvapplesxh @chrissv4mp @n0vabug @dollyvuu
Masterlist - pt 1 , pt 2
You didn't want to believe it, but she had been distant. Why? It was bugging you because all you wanted was her. Just her. And the more the time passes that's all you could think of. Her. Your God damn teacher. You could barely focus with the thought of her recently so when she had started this weird distancing. You were a bit hurt. But, you decide to try your best to ignore it. "Hey Y/n!" You hear Silvi say, approaching you. You turn to face her. "Oh hi!" You say cheerful. "Since we didn't get to hang out that one time I thought I'd invite you to this party I'm going to tomorrow night." You think for a moment.
"You know what yeah, I'd love to." She smiles and goes about her day. This couldn't hurt anyone right? That was unconvincing, you knew it'd bother someone. But then again that someone doesn't really seem to care currently. Why the hell not!
It was a Saturday and you were in her bed, things were quiet like they have been. Until she turns over and wraps her arms around you. "Sorry I haven't been that present. End of the year so it's hectic as a teacher." You look up into her eyes. Oh.. That's why, now you felt bad about going to this party. But why, you deserved to have fun. You just nod, going to kiss her cheek and sit up. "I uh, I'll just get going." Her brows furrow. "You know you can stay another night babe." You bite your lip. "Yeah but I just don't have a change of clothes here." She looks at you. "Those are fine, no?" You sigh. "I'm going somewhere."
Her head tilts with a grin. "What, no invite?" You stand up, causing her face to shift. Her features changing at your body language. "It's uhm, a school party. So it'd be a bit you know." She caught on. "Right, gotcha." Billies fear was infront of her, she didn't want to believe it. She was 9 years older than you ofcourse you needed to be around people your age. But she wondered if that was romantically too. She didn't want that, she just wanted you. "You hate parties though." It was true, you did. Then that jealousy kicks in. "Shes going to be there isn't she." You stay silent for a moment as you put your pants on, leaving her baggy t-shirt on.
You grab your keys,but she's up and out of bed. "Hey." She says when you don't respond, coming over and making you look at her. There was more silence as she finds the right thing to say. She wants to tell you to be careful and to not do this at all. But shes better than that. "Have fun ok?" You nod again, kissing one another before you leave. The kiss lingers on your lips, and you miss it. Did you even want to go to this party?
It was too late you were already there with Silvi, having a few drinks but never too much. You really didn't like parties but, you hadn't ever been to one so why fight something you haven't even tried. Laughing, talking, music. Honestly it was boring and you'd rather be spending it with Billie, in your underwear in the comfort. Eating crap, watching movies. That's all you'd want right now. But something pulled you out of that little day dream, you feel a hand on your thigh. Your senses going off, growing uncomfortable. You turn to see it was Silvi's you look at her as she must've done it subconsciously. Talking to whoever infront of her. But her next move wasn't so subconscious. Her hand slowly glides upwards making you get up from your seat.
Her face turns to you. But before anything else you go to find your way around into a room, not realizing she had followed. "Shit, I'm sorry I didn't even-" You shake your head. "It's fine. I just think I want to go home." Not think. You were certain. "You sure?" Your brows furrow slightly. Feeling uneasy. "Positive." She comes over and sits by you. "We could go soon, you got somewhere to be?" Yes. At our teachers house. "No I just, don't really want to be here." She gets closer. You felt icky. "Please just take me home." Her demeanor changes. "Fine." Your brows furrow again, what the fuck was up with her.
You were close to Billies place. "Just let me out here." She slows down. "This isn't your place." You go to open the door. "I know it's a friend's." She didn't seem to really care. Wow, Billie was right she wasn't any good. "Bye." You say closing the door, watching her zoom off. You felt gross, wanting to get in there and find some sort of comfort. You knock on the door, getting greeted by a slightly sleepy Billie. "Hey, no fun?" You shake your head, noticeably seeming down. You step in. Being greeted by the smell of her place. It was such a beautiful smell. "Something happen?" You give it a moment. "Nah, just wanted to be in comfort tonight." She sensed something was up, but going to let it be for now.
"Ok well, the beds missing you." You smile at her. "I'm missing the bed." She puts a hand over her heart. "You and my bed might as well date, you like it more than me." You giggle, shoving her lightly. She loved making you laugh or even smile. It made her feel powerful that she could make that happen, it made her heart happy to hear and see. You both get into the bed once you get out of that annoying dress. You eventually fall asleep in one another's arms.
Wednesday, Wednesday. Wednesday. Things seemed to be normal again, which you were thankful for. Today was a stripped shirt and tie day. And she looked tasty as ever. You were in a very playful mood so today you went with yet another short skirt. Her eyes land on it instantly. Giving you a look, but you just returned it with an innocent smile. The shirt you were wearing wasn't helping either. Tight. You were honestly thanking the universe that Silvi wasn't there today. You don't need some repeat of a few weeks ago. At the end of the lesson you slowly get your things, everything was so slow, intentionally so. You go over to her desk, her eyes not meeting yours just yet even though everyone's gone.
"Hi!-" "What are you wearing." Her tone was calm, knowing good and well she was far from that. "Well hello to you aswel." Your eyes roll. "And I thought you loveddd my skirts." She stands. "Why are you testing me today hm?" You shrug. "Good thing Silvi wasn't here to drool over it." You cringed slightly, remembering she was right about her. But you soon roll your eyes again. "Whatever I seriously-" But her hand was around your neck, you tense slightly but only for a moment. It was just her, you didn't need to worry. You had actually been doing that alot recently, that whole interaction had frightened you to say the least, you felt weak and out of your own control in that moment that night.
It was frightening without a doubt. "Don't test me babygirl." Her tone was full of warning, you gulp. Clenching your thighs. Her head motion down as you do, letting out a dry chuckle. "Really? You like me doing this?" Your words go. But her hand soon leaves, causing you to whine. You wanted more. She goes back over to her desk. "I'll just finish that up then we can head to mine." You had forgotten it was the end of the day. Score. You think for a moment. "Yes ma'am." She laughs a tad, shaking her head. She thought you were being silly. No, you were dead serious. So when that doesn't work you resort to your next trick. Your eyes scan her desk.
Seeing a pencil laying there, your fingers go to move it off. "Oopsies, my bad." She wasn't really paying attention, she was finishing a few things. But her head turns as shes faced with your ass. Her eyes widen as she spots the second fucked thing you did today. Her eyes look around as if someone would see. Everyone left. Her eyes return as you slowly stand up. She grabs the bottom of your skirt pulling it as much down as she could. "Are you serious?" She then says. Your head turns to her. "Whattt?" Her eyes widen again, brows furrowing tremendously. "You were sitting there. For almost an hour with nothing on!?" You giggle. "Nooo, I just took them off. But you weren't looking sooo." Her temper shines through. "Jesus fucking christ."
She's surely worked up from seeing your bare cunt on display for her. "Office. Go." You bite your lip. And boom, you got what you want. So you thought. She locks the door behind her, coming up behind you and pushing you over her desk. Causing you to bend over. "Might just tease the fuck out of you and leave you here." Your head turns to look back at her. "You wouldn't." - "Oh yeah?" Her finger makes contact with your folds. "Imagine if someone had walked in." She was still mad, making her finger retract. This was going to piss you off sooner or later. She grabs her tie, bringing it over your exposed ass.
"Out in the open like that." It travels around to your neck, she wraps it around tightening ever so slightly. "With this stupid fucking skirt." It tightens more, you gasp. But it then loosens as she grabs your wrists, tying them together. Causing you to fall further into the desk, the coolness hitting your cheek. Her hand makes contact with your hair, pushing just a tad. "Please, I'm sorry." You then plead. She chuckles maniacally. "Bad girls don't get treated nicely." You bite your lip as you think of a response. "Teach me to be good then." You say, your voice soft. It was her turn to bite her lip. "You gunna listen?" You nod. "Answer me." - "Yes, Ms O'Connell." She lets out a breath, finding the way you say it so hot.
Her hands fiddle with the belt around her waist, pulling out your favorite one of her straps. It was the second most large one she owned. And in an instant it's prodding your hole, ready for access. Your back arches, moving around to try get it in. "Don't dig your grave further." She says stilling your hips. "B-" You stop yourself. This was already bad you couldn't make things worse. Little did you know. The tip slides in, not fast enough but you keep your mouth shut. No whines, no protests no nothing. Not until she bottoms out inside you. Your mouth hangs open at the feeling. "This fucking skirt." Her fury was still evident. Very. Evident. Especially when she snaps her hips hard against you.
The stretch made your eyes squeeze shut, your legs almost doing the same but her hands make sure that doesn't happen. Your brain went into a frenzy, biting your lip so hard you draw some blood. Your tongue swipes over it, letting out a small hum. She looks at why you had done that, seeing your blood lip. She looks at it for a split second, then your eyes. The way they roll back as she's giving you backshots on her fucking desk. You were like a drug to her, she found you to be the most precious thing ever. "Gunna cum? Can feel you getting tighter." Her body leans over yours, her hands on the brown wood. Either side of your body. Her thrusts were ungodly. "Mm, yes!" You gasp as it hits your g-spot. "Found it." You moan. Cumming immediately.
She pulls out bringing you up and making you sit on the desk. Kissing your lips, tasting that same thing you tasted moments ago. Slowly pushing you back, feeling the cold desk against you. She was hovering over you, no words being said. She gets up close to you. "Maybe you should get it into your head..." Her voice low. Her hand moves to wrap around your neck her strength pulling you up and off her desk just slightly. Your eyes widen as she does. "You're mine." But you smirk, sealing the whole situation with one last kiss.
Fridays were probably your favorite, not only was it the end of the week, but you got to see your hot girlfriend. As you enter you're blinded by today's outfit. How would you ever focus. The dang glasses. The way her top fit perfectly, the long skirt. You sit down in your spot. Fixated on her cleavage. You needed to stop this was bad. Then you thought for longer. Was this pay back? Was she giving you a taste of your own medicine from the other day? Your heart skips a beat when she makes eye contact with you. Your thighs squeeze. She was so evil.
You were begging for this to be over and soon. You were also begging to suck on her t- "Y/n? You with us?" You gulp quietly, but her eyes watch your throat. She knew. "Oh, yes. Sorry." This was absolute torture. But you let out a relieved sigh when it was finally time. Everyone goes to leave as you go over to her. "Hi!" You say happily. She smirks. "Hi babygirl." That fucking nickname. "You good today?" Oh God the way she was speaking. "Yes." You knew she was asking how you were feeling, not how you would be acting for her. On your knees, obeyi- "Earth to Y/n?" Your head shakes. "Huh?" She smiles. She's got you right where she wants you. "I asked if you were ready to go my love?"
"Mhmm!" You say wanting to get out of there as fast as possible. You needed her. So bad. So when you get to hers your legs rush to her room, her slowly following. You whine at how long she's taking. "Billieee." She laughs. "Yes pumpkin?" You glare at her, getting frustrated. But you were just so needy there was no room for your bratty remarks. "Pleaseeee." You say, from your spot on the bed. She comes over, getting ontop of you. Thankfully there was a slit in the skirt so she could maneuver properly. Her hand moves over your body, moving to your soaked underwear. She hums to herself. Knowing exactly what she's upto. And glad she's succeeding.
Her finger slips past and enters you a little bit. You gasp. "Remember to breathe." ..... "Good girl." Her fingers enter you slowly. But your eyes are glued to her tits. They just looked so incredibly good in that outfit. Your hands move to touch but she grips them. "Uh uh. Since you didn't have a proper punishment the other day you need to learn your mistakes." You huff, is she serious? She can't be. You just wanted to wrap your lips around them and you wanted to do it now. "That's not fair." You mumble. Her brows raise.
"No? Not fair huh? Let's circle back to you wearing that tight, shirt and tiny tiny skirt. I had to focus on teaching, I had to refrain from fucking the living shit out of you because you indeed looked God damn hot in it. I had to wait a whole. Hour. You can't wait that, and a bit more. Can't you?" You swallow. Having no words. "Bu-" "Uh uh. Don't but me, you know good and well." You let out a moany, huff. "Come on now, don't be like that angel. You'll get what you want. You just have to work for it." You wriggle. "Ah! Lesson learned, I won't do it again." She doesn't even let your hand move to touch before she's pinning them down. "What, did I say."
And you caved, you were too far gone with need to care. "Please, Billie I'm sorry I wore such a revealing skirt like that in public, you know I won't do it again. I promise and if I break it you can do such horrible things and I'll have to take it just please. Please let me suck them." You were almost on the verge of tears, but man was she enjoying every bit of this. "You want to suck them huh?" She ponders as you nod manically. "Please, I need to so bad." She still thinks. "No wonder you were so wet." You whimper. Oh that sweet whimper. And within an instant that shirt is loose. Her tits spill out right before your eyes.
Your thighs sqish tightly as your mouth latches so fast. Closing your eyes. She bites her lip, watching you suck. Bite. Do it all. You were too far gone. Incredibly far. The way you swirld your tongue made her grunt. The feeling so good. Her hand makes its way into your hair, stroking it as you do so. "You are a good girl, shit." She breathes. But she nearly goes mental with your next words. "Mmm, mommy." Her eyes look at the headboard processing. She grabs your face, kissing you with such hunger. Your subby state makes it sloppy. Moaning into the kiss. "Say that again." She says against your lips. And as you were about to. Her finger is back in your pulsing cunt. "F-fuck! Mommy." - "Mm, good. Louder."
Her fingers speed up as you go to again. "Mommy!" It was music to her ears. If she wasn't inlove before she sure as hell is now. "Cum for me, go on." Her fingers enter deep. Making your head spin, and eyes roll back. Gushing all over her fingers. Her eyes look down, looking at the white substance. "You, my girl. Are just one sexy thing huh?" Your head rests back out of breath. "You're sexier."
Weeks pass. Things were back to how they were a few months back. Everyime something beautiful happens it gets ruined and by what? It was eating at you. Was it you? What was going on. You wanted to ask but that'd just opened room for her asking what had happened that night. She had asked the day after if you wanted to talk about it but you declined and said it wasn't important. Maybe you should've told her. You didn't want her freaking out or even saying- 'I told you so.' But when she notices your strange behavior over the last few days its making her want to know more.
The other day.
You had just woken up, making some food, when you hadn't heard her come in. You had on her t-shirt and some underwear, humming away to yourself. When a hand touches your thigh, the same thigh that she touched. You jump back, turning to look at her. She was about to apologize for giving you a fright, but then she remembered. She's done that dozens of times before. You always knew it was her and you always put your head on her shoulder. So when none of that happened she gets more confused. "You've been doing that alot recently angel, everything ok?" You're silent for a bit. "Yeah! Just didn't hear you come in." Such a lie. Even if that was true, she knew something had to be up with the way you reacted. "Okay.."
She thrusts into you slowly, it was all sweet. Everything was. The eye contact, the intimacy. Her thrusts soon speed up, wanting to get you to that bliss feeling. Loving how she always could. She was getting closer to. But everything in the room changes. She touches that sane spot on your thigh making you tense up and gasp. She hadn't noticed at first seeing as you gasp all the time. What was it with that thigh. It wasn't even because of Silvi. But for some reason she triggered it. Something happened ages ago and it was slowly coming back to you. Your hand wraps around her wrist.
Causing her attention to be on you, her brows furrow as she sees your discomfort. She would never ever want to hurt you in any way. "Too fast?" You think for a second, you had to lie you couldn't tell her what was truly bothering you. You then nod, her hand moving to your hip. Soothing any further discomfort. "Sorry babe."
She begins the lesson for today, writing on the board. After that one night things were still dry in the air. You honestly hated it, but it was probably all your fault all along. That's what you'd been telling yourself. But it wasn't all you. Billie was in fact distancing. It was the last thing that she wanted but she was falling hard for you. One half of her didn't care about the fact she was falling for someone so amazing. She loved it, and then the other half wondered if you could do better. When your in your early 30s she will be in her 40s. It didn't sound that bad but it was intense to think about. Let alone the fact she's still your teacher. Even if the year was ending for you this year, you wouldn't have to be as secret atleast.
This was her brain constantly, weighing out the pros and cons. But why should she, she knew what she felt was real despite all of that. But she cared too much about you. She just wanted you to be happy and she didn't know if that was with her. But she definitely looked good today. It made you miss how closer you were before the weird change. You hardly went over to hers anymore and it hurt. It really hurt. "Sorry I'm late." It was Silvi, she had been gone for over a month. You had no idea why. But you avert your gaze, feeling uncomfortable. Remembering that night so clearly. "That's alright, take a seat." Billie gives her a kind smile. Continuing to talk about today's lesson. When her eyes land on you, she notices that sane discomfort like the other night. All she wants to do is comfort you. But she had to stay professional.
She can deal with this afterwards. As the class nears the end she spots how you shift in your seat when Silvi walks past. Her brows furrow, now she was determined to figure out what had happened. Did she do something?
The car ride was silent. It was bugging the both of you but none of you say a thing. As the night goes on it proceeds to consist. Until she speaks up, finally. "You've been weird lately, especially that night that you came home strange from that party and you'd refuse to tell me what happened. And even the other night when-"
"Not now Billie please." - "So you admit something happened?" You stay quiet continuing to take your makeup off. "If not now when? Huh? You keep putting it off whenever I ask you if you're ok. I worry about you for fuck sakes." You turn around so fast. "Bull fucking shit. You've been distancing yourself again! I know damn well its not school. So what is it?" Now she's silent. "What, happened. At. That. Party." You turn to face the mirror. "If you won't tell me why you're distant I won't be telling you that." She was seething, you'd never seen her so angry before. But you didn't care you were getting annoyed too.
Then within seconds her hand Flys to your wrist, you jump getting a fright. She stops in her tracks. "She touched you. Didn't she." You Avert her eyes. "No." Hers squint, not believing that for even a second. "Did she?" - "Billie."
"Did she fucking touch you?"
"Yes. But I stopped it God, why are you so worried." Her brows furrow. "Because, you didn't give her consent to do that! That stupid bitch just thought she could do whatever."
"Why are you so worried when I stopped it." - "She could've pressured you." You shake your head. "Do you think I'm stupid or something?" She puts her weight on her left foot. "You know I don't think that." - "Again. Why are you so fucking worried when you're the only one I want touching me." The room fell silent, a slight need creeping in the air. Her face moves, eyes locking into your own. Her feet move, but so do yours. Lips instantly crashing on the others. Everything grew heated. "Only one?" You nod. "Only one." You both say between kisses. "It's only ever been you." Those words fuel everything in her.
Backing you up out of the bathroom and onto the bed her kisses trail down your neck, down to your cleavage. She takes all that you were wearing off, seeing you all. She then takes her clothes off, leaving you in awe about the special moment that was about to happen. Just you and her, closer than ever. When her cunt slots perfectly into yours you both let out a long well needed moan. This was all you ever wanted, it's all she ever wanted. To have you close in this way. She moves against you, her body moving closer to your own as your breasts touch. Her lips meet yours as she kisses you.
It was the sweetest kiss ever. Full of every emotion. As her movements pick up she pulls back loving how this all felt. "I love you." You were taken aback for a second. But that soon goes away. "I love you." You then reply, she was so happy. Your hands go to her face. "I'm inlove with you." Her heart melts, that's all she ever wanted. She just had no idea if you'd feel the same. "Together." She says softly, putting loose strands of your hair away from your face to see you better. You nod as she picks up momentum, feeling that amazing feeling building up. She feels it too, she feels it all. And with one last move of her hips your both gushing against one another.
You grab her face going to kiss her again, both smiling into it. She lays back on the bed, holding you in her arms. "Why I was distancing honestly had nothing to do with you. It was just my fucked up brain scared I'd ruin things and I nearly did." Your hand rests on her shoulder as you're both on your sides. "Bills. You could never ruin things, I think I've loved you for a very long time, but I too, was afraid. I'd never want you to feel like you had to choose me." She shakes her head. "I'd choose you in a million life times, over and over again." Her hands hold your face. This whole moment was just perfect. It was good to clear up things and communicate. Her eyes wander to your thigh. "I hope you know you can tell me anything at all. I'm here for you, always."
You nod as she says that. You trust her, which was hard for you. You thought this whole school would change that and it had. All because of her. You grab her hand moving it to that exact thigh. You let out a small breath as she watches your face, scans it. Her thumb moving over it soothingly. "Did something deeper happen to you?" You look at her. Thinking for a moment. "Nothing you need to worry about."
Except there was something deeper. Massively, that you knew youd have to tell eventually. And you would. Youd tell her everything. She was now your everything.
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lvis44 · 2 days ago
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Talk To Me // LH44
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Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Warnings: SMUT 18+ (Minors DNI), Angst, Mostly unestablished relationship, Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Alcohol, Not edited
Word Count: 9.6k+
Summary: It's hard to know what someone else is thinking when you don't let them into your own thoughts, but Lewis will certainly show you exactly what's on his mind If you let him.
Notes: Lmao so my poll was pointless, here's all of it all at once! My little fingers were flying tonight! Some fluff, some angst, some smut, followed by some more fluff, just what we all love. I don't have much to say about this one other than ENJOY! I'll be working on a one shot based on that stupid little gladiator fit, the outfit did nothing for me but THE ARMS AND THE FACE??? best believe we need a lil something based on that. Love y'all!!!
I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx
“I’m so sorry I have to cut this short hun.” Lewis said as he wiped his mouth across the table, his eyes truly apologetic.
“I’m just glad I got to see you for a few minutes while you were here.” You said softly, your heeled foot brushing his calf under the table, your words coming out much shyer than your actions.
It wasn’t that you and Lewis were new to each other, far from it. You had met him at the beginning of his season and now here he was, just a few weeks away from moving to Ferrari. Every break he had he’d made time to see you, yet he’d been a perfect gentleman the entire time. Yes, the pet names were laid on in excess and the touches had begun to linger a few months ago but you were becoming restless for more. You really couldn’t blame yourself when he had the audacity to sit across the table from you looking so incredible, being so sweet every time he suggested you get together. Yes, you may have turned him down at first but this was getting ridiculous, there's no way you two were not on the same page.
“I don’t want to cut anything short, I wish I could stay, I really do,” He paused as he reached forward to grab your hand, “but I have a red carpet in like two days and I have to meet with Eric.”
“Mmm,kay” you huffed out infantly.
“Nah, don’t do that, I’ll see you before I head out, I promise.” He smirked at your attitude, squeezing your hand.
“So you don’t have any time for a pretty girl in between dinner and Eric?” You asked, attempting to layer the sultry and lust in your voice as you let your foot wander higher.
“Y/N.” His voice came out strained but stern, his strong hand grabbing your leg, “I cut it close by even getting dinner with you tonight, just couldn’t stay away.”
“So it sounds like I win over Eric.” You giggled, leaning forward on the table, your calf still in his strong palm.
“Don’t do this to me,” He groaned, “Listen I can leave the tab open, just don’t go home with anyone unless you’re calling me.”
“What if I call you in like 10 minutes?” you giggled again, his hand snaking up your calf despite how composed he was trying to stay.
“Y/N.” He warned, his voice low but his hand never ceasing its exploration.
“Well you go have fun with business things I guess, I’ll be here enjoying the atmosphere and free drinks, as long as I end my night with you.” You told him with a laugh as he stood up, dropping your leg abruptly, no amusement to be shown on his face.
“Not so sure you know what you just asked for baby girl, enjoy the drinks, I’ll send you a car.” Lewis whispered, bent down so only you could hear, making your stomach flip, finishing with a kiss to your cheek.
You watched as his muscular body moved away, staring at him intently as he told the host something while looking directly at you. Through the rest of the evening you enjoyed free drinks while sat with the best view, you listened as the dinner atmosphere turned into a club yet no one disrupted you unless they were refilling your drink. You were happily buzzed and seconds later your phone was buzzing just as much as you were.
“I couldn’t just send a car…” His sultry British accent came over the speaker.
“Are you saying you’re outside to pick me up sir?” You teased him.
“Of course baby, c’mon before I hire someone to drag you out.” He chuckled
“She came in with Lewis Hamilton but he didn't leave with her”
“Heard he's been seeing some woman on the east side.”
“He can't even convince us he likes his car, why would he like her”
The laughter of the girls that were probably too young to be there anyway stuck in your chest. A 15 year olds opinion didn’t matter right? But then again they see the tabloids and you avoid them…
By the time you’re out of the restaurant and into Lewis' car you find yourself in a foul mood, your happy buzz turning into a sad drunk imagining everything he could have done in the last few hours.
“You okay love?” He asks as you plop into the passenger seat, not even waiting for him to see you and open it up for you.
“Mmmm.” You humm, still stupidly in your head.
“Y/N, what’s going on? I’m so sorry I had to leave but-” Lewis starts his argument as he pulls onto the freeway.
“You do whatever you want, Lewis.” You say sharply,
“Woah, where did that come from?” Lewis asks, sharp but inquisitive.
“I should have known you were too good for me, my lew was just a fucking phase. All the damn teenagers in the restaurant knew it… you went and got fucked by someone else, I get it, i made you wait, you’re you, you’re a playboy and I guess-” You try to rant before his hand is against your mouth
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He asks, finally letting your mouth free with a look of pure confusion.
“What am I talking about? Where the hell did you go tonight? What are all those girls talking about?” You ask him sharply.
“Y/N, I went and saw Eric, I told you that. And are you talking about the teenage girls trying to get drinks at the bar?” His voice is firm before turning to further confusion.
“Yes Lewis, I am, they had lots to say as I left.” You try to keep your voice firm but it ends up sounding childish as you slump into your seat, crossing your arms across your chest.
“Y/N, those girls are like 15 years old and probably drunk for the first time in their lives, they were trying to drunkenly flirt with me when I left as if that isn’t a damn felony. Why the hell are you listening to anything they have to say?” His voice is incredulous, unable to process that the night has taken them to this point.
“Well you’re not denying a word they said right now, are you?” You throw back at him.
“I honestly didn’t think I had to!” He exclaims, still in disbelief.
You let out a scoff, turning to look out the window.
“Y/N, c’mon, I had a meeting with Eric, one that I was late to so I could make time to see you, I’m here to pick you up so I can spend more time with YOU. Why the hell would I be off with someone else?” His voice is firm but still holds a faint questioning tone.
“I don’t know, I’m evidently not good enough for you, I don’t even know how or why I caught your attention in the first place. I don’t even know what the hell it is that we’re doing. You haven’t even kissed me Lewis! I constantly feel like an idiot, I sit here wanting you to fuck me and the most I get out of you is you calling me ‘baby’.” You let all of your thoughts come out, against your better judgment, slumping against your seat with a huff.
He is quiet for a moment, stunned to silence. He is struggling between keeping his eyes on the road and staring at you in utter disbelief, a look you would see if you had the guts to steal a glance at him.
“I- I honestly don’t even know where to start…” He says quietly, trailing off.
“You know I’m right, that's why you don't know what to say.” You state as if it's a fact, a sassy quip in your tone as you shrug your shoulders, a sassiness that only comes out after some drinks.
He so badly wants to laugh, not only at your unusual sassiness but at just how ungodly wrong you are, but he knows that he can’t, that he shouldn’t, it would only make everything worse. Instead he does his best to stay firm.
“Sweetheart, no, you couldn’t be further from right. I adore you, I’m just…” He sighs, trying to find the way to explain his feelings without sending you further over the edge, “I’m trying to be a gentleman here, I’m trying to do things a little different than I normally would. I’m out of practice with this whole romance thing and I know that you were skeptical of it at first too. I don’t want to rush you, I just love being around you.”
You scowl at being called out, knowing he’s right, you were very skeptical when you first met him, not convinced that being anything other than an acquaintance of a man of his caliber was a smart idea. You don’t dwell on it though, the liquor in your brain deciding to latch on to something else, ‘he just loves being around you’, there it is, you’re friends.
“So you’re not attracted to me?” You almost whine, if you were sober you would be embarrassed at how it came out but you can’t find it in you to care right now.
“Where the hell did you get that?” He asks, this time he can’t hold back the chuckle.
“You literally just said that you just love being around me.” You point out, still clearly not understanding much of what he said.
“Yes, and I do, how does that translate to me not being attracted to you?” He questions, a small smirk on his face as he notices that your mood is switching slightly from angry to bratty.
“You said JUST, meaning that’s all you want.” You challenge him, reading far too much into his words.
“Y/N, I also said I’m trying to be a gentleman with you and not rush you because of your feelings and boundaries.” He says calmly as he keeps his eyes on the road, trying not to get irritated with the beautiful tipsy woman next to him.
“Well how long were you planning on being a gentleman because I’ve been wanting you to fuck me for about six months now.” You say boldly.
His eyes go wide as he chokes on his own spit, not used to you being so blatant. The two of you flirt, things have gotten suggestive between you two more often than not, but you so boldly admitting something like that is new territory for him. He has to take a moment to gather himself before speaking.
“I- I didn’t know that,” He admits, his voice low, “I honestly thought you had just barely warmed up to the idea of us being more than friends.”
“What about my foot on your crotch tonight seemed like I still wanted to be just your friend?” You laugh in disbelief, slightly unsure if you are bad at putting yourself out there or if he is that bad at reading signs.
“Well yeah, tonight was pretty clear what you wanted, and to be honest I was going to give you exactly that after my meeting, it’s why I picked you up! I’ve been going crazy trying to go slow!” He exclaims.
“Was?” You question quickly.
“What?” He asks, blinking in confusion.
“You said was.” You point out.
“Oh jeez, not this again Y/N.” He huffs, ready for you to be mad at him for a whole new reason.
“No no no, you said ‘was going to give you exactly that’. You don’t want to fuck me anymore?” You pout as you question him.
He once again has to take a moment to gather himself, still unsure how to handle your unabashedness. 
“No, I do! In the future, yes, and I will if you’ll let me, but you got in this car ready to cut my head off or at the very least never speak to me again, I kinda thought that the flirty mood from dinner had gone out the window.” He tries to explain as you near his house. With the argument he hadn’t even taken a moment to consider that maybe he should be dropping you at yours instead.
“So not tonight?” You huff.
“No Y/N, probably not tonight.” He says quietly, a hint of disappointment lingering in his words as he pulls into his driveway.
“Why are we here then?” You ask, unsure of what to do now.
“Just come inside for a bit, you can sleep in the guestroom if you want or I can call you a car later if you really want, but I don’t think this conversation is really done.” He coaxes you, undoing his seatbelt and turning to look at you.
“I feel like I’ve made my points.” You shrug, staying firmly seated in your spot.
This time he truly can’t help but laugh at you, getting out of the car and making his way to your door.
“Well maybe I haven’t made all of mine.” He says as he stands in the doorframe, his hand extended to help you out of the car.
You don’t say anything, choosing to stare straight ahead as the brattiness really sets in.
“Y/N, if you don’t get out of the car on your own I won’t hesitate to pick you up myself, c’mon.” His voice is slightly teasing but you can hear how serious he is.
Finally you sigh in defeat, grabbing his hand to step out of the car. You hate that the second you feel his skin on yours your whole body warms. Tingles go down your spine and everything feels just right, you’re meant to be holding his hand, you’re meant to be so much more than just friends, but right now you’re mad at him, so you do your best to shake it off. You’re confident that you played it cool but he could see the feelings from a mile away, the same warmth enveloping him the moment you placed your smaller hand in his. He would normally tease you, but right now he knows not to muddy the waters, he needs you to actually listen to him when he gets you inside. You snatch your hand back from him once you are standing, watching awkwardly as he grabs your purse and closes the car door before gesturing for you to head towards his house. You feel like a lost puppy, obeying his commands but you can’t help it, your bratty mood only has so much strength. When you get inside you feel out of place, despite having been there many times. You can’t explain exactly why you feel so bizarre about it, maybe it’s that you’re finally sobering up and starting to realize that you still have many doubts, maybe it’s that you’re sobering up and realizing exactly what you accused him of in the car, maybe it’s that you’re sobering up and really becoming aware that you blatantly told the man you wanted him to fuck you, regardless of what it is you would rather not be sober right now. The tension hanging in the air as he puts his jacket away is weighing on you like a heavy snow, you want him to put you out of your misery and break the silence but he doesn’t. Instead he just moves towards the kitchen, leaving you to follow him aimlessly. He grabs a glass from the cupboard as you wander over to his wine cooler, ready to make your selection for the talk you're about to have. Before you can even take in the selections you feel his hands on your waist, guiding you away and toward the kitchen island.
“Nope, I think you’ve had enough, sit.” He says firmly in your ear as he just about places you on a bar stool.
You don’t say anything, just watch as he makes his way back to the other side of the island, filling the glass he’d just taken out with water before he’s sliding it in your direction.
“I’m not thirsty.” You say, staring at the glass in front of you.
“You wanted wine about 20 seconds ago.” He deadpans, calling you out with a raise of his eyebrow.
“You know damn well that's not why I wanted the wine.” You shoot back at him, “You said you had points to make, go ahead.” You prompt him, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible.
He sighs, his shoulders slumping as he shakes his head and a look of amusement creeps its way onto his face. He takes a moment, just staring at you, taking you in and you start to feel uncomfortable under the scrutiny.
“Y/N, I don’t know what else to do.” He admits, sounding defeated.
You don’t respond verbally, furrowing your brow in confusion as you cock your head.
“I know we got to a… I guess a better place, back in the car, but I still don’t think you actually get it.” His voice is quiet, he sounds vulnerable.
This is unusual for you, you’re not used to Lewis being anything other than charming and cocky, to see him look defeated, vulnerable, it makes your stomach twist.
“I don’t get what?” You ask quietly, suddenly feeling slightly guilty.
“Hun, I try so hard. I don’t have enough time, and I know that, and I’m sorry for that, but I do my very best to see you as much as I physically can. When I’m away I try to not let a day go by where I don’t at least text you much less call you. I do stupid things with my schedule if it means I get to spend a few extra minutes with you. We’ve talked about things far deeper and greater than anything I’ve ever told my closest friends. I try to make every time I see you special because I know I’m not around for the casual moments and I have to be honest, most of that I’m not even doing for you. I’m doing it for myself because you are one of the most incredible women that I’ve ever met and I would kick myself if I let you fall through my fingers, yet here I am and it seems like I’ve done just that.” His eyes bore into yours as his words flow out freely, clearly unashamed about his feelings.
“I know you try hard, I never said you didn’t.” You say quietly, feeling almost like a child getting reprimanded after a tantrum.
“I know you didn’t say it, but I can’t help but feel it when you get in my car after a good night and immediately make it very clear that you don’t trust me.” He says firmly, his gaze never leaving yours.
“I do trust you.” You say, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Then why are you listening to drunk kids in a bar gossiping about things they know nothing about? Why don’t you tell me what you want with me? Things like the fact that apparently you’ve wanted to fuck me for the last six months? Why didn’t you tell me you were starting to maybe feel differently about this whole relationship after making it very clear that I didn’t have a shot?” His questions pour out in a way that makes your stomach knot, knowing he’s right to question all of it.
“I was drunk.” You answer meekly, hoping answering one question will be enough.
He lets out a dry laugh, “Okay, we’ll write that one off. What about the rest of it, Y/N?”
“It scares the shit out of me.” You admit so quietly you’re not sure he can hear as you stare at the glass of water in front of you.
“Admitting it to me or being with me?” He questions, his voice much softer now.
“All of it.” You say, feeling tears forming in your lash line.
“Explain it to me hun, because from where I am, we have a pretty amazing thing here if we just lean into it.” He says, so softly it could make you burst.
“I spend every day questioning not only why but hell if you’re even attracted to me. I know you have a billion other options so I don’t understand why you keep coming back, I’m afraid I’m just fun for you but then I think about it and I realize I’m not even your fun! We’re in wildly different worlds and I don’t even know how anything would ever work. I worry that you won’t be able to actually commit to anything. I worry that I’m the only one here feeling like this and I’m terrified of looking stupid and I’m terrified of losing the little bit of you that I have.” You rant, your tears now slipping past your lashes.
His face immediately softens when he sees your tears, quickly stepping around the island to get closer to you. He grabs the back of your chair, turning you to face him.
“Y/N, baby, I need to remind you that the very day we met, I point blank asked you out and you turned me down,” He starts quietly, taking your face in his hands to wipe away your tears as they fall, “I argued that we seemed like a good match and you had the audacity to agree with me but told me that you wanted a man that wasn’t fucking around, wouldn’t toss you to the side when he got busy. You told me that a romance with me sounded dangerous and that wasn’t what you were looking for but I couldn’t let you slip away like that so I asked you to let me prove that I could be that for you.”
You both laugh gently, remembering the first encounter that started all of this.
“I’ve been here trying to prove it to you, trying to be the perfect gentleman that you deserve, trying not to rush you, waiting for you to tell me you were ready. You didn’t say anything until tonight. And no, I’m not an idiot, I saw you starting to flirt more openly with me, I noticed you opening up about things, things becoming more intimate, but I swore I wouldn’t cross that line until the day you told me I could. If it’s just the logistics of it, that’s something we can work out, we’re both pretty smart people, I just need you to be honest with me.” He smiles softly at you, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
“Please kiss me.” You whimper, if your brain wasn’t processing all his words at a thousand miles an hour in the moment you may have cared about how you sounded, but after his speech all you wanted was his lips on yours.
“Is that your official way of telling me I can cross the line? That you’ll actually consider this?” He asks, his face closer to yours but still needing that final confirmation.
“God yes Lewis, I want you, I want to be yours, I want you to be mine, I’m sorry.” You say quickly, grabbing his arms in an attempt to get him closer.
“No need to apologize, beautiful girl.” The words leave his lips softly before they press against yours.
The second you feel his warm lips and their gentle touch, you melt. You feel complete the second he’s kissed you, unsure why you fought it for so long. His grip on your face is steady, grounding, everything you need. He pulls away much too quickly for your liking, keeping the kiss sweet, too PG for what you’re craving desperately. You chase his lips making him release a giggle that only causes you to pout.
“So you approve, huh?” He teases you, his hands coming down to rest on your waist.
“Oh shush, acting like you didn’t love it too.” You say, your pout morphing into a smirk that you can’t contain.
“I didn’t say I didn’t.” He says, leaning back into your lips.
This time he’s slightly less hesitant, his lips moving against yours gently. You can tell he’s holding back still but you're just too pleased to care, only causing excitement of what's to come when he’s less restrained.
“You know, two hours ago you were ready to rail me and now you’re being almost shy with the kisses.” You laugh at him when you finally pull away for air.
“Ssshhh, I’m just getting used to the territory.” He teases you, placing another peck to your lips.
“About that whole you picking me up to bring me back here and ya know…” You trail off, hoping he gets the hint of where you’d like the evening to go.
He lets out a sigh, pinching your hip before speaking, “I know, but not tonight. Just feel like we need to take a second.”
You pout at him again to which he just chuckles, pecking your pout sweetly.
“You’re the one who wanted to take it slow.” He points out.
“You’re the one who told me I was supposed to get laid tonight.” You throw back at him.
“Well you were the one with her foot on my cock.” He says, his eyebrows raised.
You gulp, the word tumbling from his mouth making your stomach coil in a much different way than earlier in the night.
“I-” You start, all the sudden feeling shy.
“Hmmm, cats got your tongue?” He jests.
“Well you were all ready to fuck me tonight but you wouldn’t even kiss me without explicit consent.” You blurt out, trying to call him on his contradiction.
“Fair point, but you were driving me to a new level of insanity at dinner tonight and I thought I was getting the message loud and clear.” He says calmly, leaning back in to kiss you again.
You silently pray that maybe just maybe he’s going back on his word as his lips move against yours, that maybe he’s changed his mind and you’ll end up in his bed tonight, but much to your dismay he pulls away once again despite your attempts to lock him into you with your arms around his neck.
“I could get used to finally being allowed to kiss you.” He smirks.
“You could be doing a whole lot more than that, but no, you’re keeping up the whole stupid gentleman thing.” You say, irritation seeping through your words.
“You told me you wanted a gentleman.” He throws back with an eyebrow cocked, amusement clear on his face.
“Well you proved that part, I want the rest now.” You almost whine, locking your legs around his waist, trying to pull him in. You find yourself annoyed for the first time by how strong he is when he doesn't move, never before being anything other than pleased by the godlike muscles under his skin.
He simply laughs at you, noticing that you're still a tiny bit tipsy, more unrestrained than usual.
“Alright, well you’ve already become a koala, how about I carry you to bed.” He chuckles, finally moving closer to you, only to pick you up.
You feel weightless and safe in his arms, quickly deciding you would let him carry you anywhere forever, a fact that you apparently accidentally state out loud in your still slightly inebriated state.
“Oh yeah? Well you let me know where you want to be carried and I’ve got you babe.” He simply chuckles as he walks toward the guest room, finding your admission endearing. All you can do is hide your blushing face in the crook of his neck.
When he finally plops you down on the mattress of the guest room you manage to pull him down into a kiss once again, one of his hands finding your waist as the other props him up above you. His lips move slower against yours this time, becoming slightly more explorative as you feel his tongue brush against your bottom lip. You open your mouth, welcoming him eagerly, the taste of him on your tongue is intoxicating. You take one last chance at what you’ve been dying for for months, moving your hand down from his neck to slip beneath the button down that is draped over his skin. You take your time to explore the solid ridges of muscle bulging beneath soft skin, you can imagine every tattoo that your hand brushes against but you wish nothing more than to actually see them. You can’t help but moan into his mouth when you feel his grip on your waist tighten as you touch him. The sound does something to him, you can feel his whole body tense beneath your touch as you make your way to his back, raking your nails lightly down the skin.
“Please Lew, want you so bad.” You whisper against his lips.
He pulls away from you with such urgency that you're convinced he’s about to say no again. He stands tall next to you, staring at you for a moment, just taking in the sight before him. You're laid on his guest bed, your hair strewn against the pillows with your short cocktail dress riding up your thighs. He pauses for a moment, closing his eyes, you wish for nothing more than to know what he’s thinking at that moment.
“Fucking hell,” He sighs and you begin to accept defeat, “yeah, okay, yeah, I can’t act like I’m not dying here anymore, but not here.”
You feel giddy the moment you hear his words, not processing what he meant by ‘not here’ until you're being scooped up bridal style, taking you by surprise.
“Lewis, we were in a bed.” You laugh, leaning in to place soft kisses against his neck that have him faltering in his steps.
“Yeah we were, but mine is much better and if this is happening you’re staying with me for the night.” He states as calmly as he can despite the tension flowing through his body.
It's a short walk before you’re once again being placed on a bed and you have to admit he was right, his bed is much better. You whine when you feel him move away making him laugh at just how needy you are.
“Patience baby girl, gotta find a light so I can see just how amazing you look when I make you cum.” His voice is teasing but serious, making your body flood with anticipation.
Within seconds he’s flicked on a warm light, a lamp by the side of his bed, just enough so you can see him as he stands next to you finishing undoing the last few buttons of his shirt. Your mouth goes dry when he shrugs it down his shoulders and you become nervous at how you might react to seeing him fully naked. It’s not that you haven’t seen Lewis shirtless before, it’s the knowledge that now you get to touch him, you know that his skin will very soon be pressed against yours, and it's driving you insane. You reach out toward him, your hand finding the skin just above his pants before he grabs your wrist.
“What did I just say Y/N?” He says lowly as he moves over you once again, “patience.”
“Been waiting so long Lewis, I don’t have any left.” You whine, your hips bucking up towards him when he presses a kiss just below your ear.
“Mmmm,” He hums through a chuckle before his voice turns thoughtful, “how do you think i feel? Been waiting a hell of a lot longer sweet girl. I gotta savour this.”
His lips tracing your neck are teasing, just enough contact to make you squirm but not enough to satisfy the carnal need brewing inside of you. His hands feel larger than ever before as they trace over your body, groping you in spots you never knew would emit such a reaction from you. He hasn't even taken off your dress yet and he has you a whimpering mess, your hands grasping onto his bare torso. You can feel the smirk of satisfaction on his face as he kisses down your throat, his hands finally reaching for the straps of your dress.
“Do you step in or is there a zipper?” He suddenly asks, taking you by surprise as he pulls away for a moment.
“Huh?” You shake your head, trying your best to come out of the absolute daze he had just put you in.
“Your dress.” He clarifies, not that it helps you any.
“Yeah? What about it?” You ask again, eager to have his lips on you again and still not fully back in your brain.
He smiles, laughing lightly as he shakes his head, “Your dress, did you just step into it or is there a zipper I need to find. It’s so pretty, don’t wanna ruin it.” His hands are massaging your hips as he speaks, not doing much to help you actually process his question.
“Um, there’s a zipper on the side, why did you-” Your question is cut off by his lips on yours once again.
“I’m in fashion baby, I’m familiar.” He mumbles against your lips as his fingers find the zipper, gracefully undoing it before his hands are back at the straps of the dress. Once again he pauses, “You absolutely sure?”
“Positive Lewis, I want this so much.” You tell him, trying to keep your voice firm so he has no further need to question you and delay what you're so desperately seeking.
The moment he hears the words leave your lips he’s back in action, his hands lowering the straps of your dress and pushing it down your body. You become very aware of the fact that you chose to go without a bra for the dress when you see his wide eyes staring at your chest. You almost feel shy but the way he’s looking at you takes any hesitation away. Once he’s taken in his view, he’s leaning down, peppering kisses across your whole chest. You can’t help but moan his name at the feeling of his lips on your skin, your grip on the back of his neck tightening. You almost explode when you feel his warm mouth wrap around your sensitive bud, his thumb brushing gently, teasingly over the other. You aren’t sure how you will be able to actually take it when you get to what you are dying for. You are writhing beneath him, spurring him on with every little whimper he pulls out of you.
“God, the little sounds you make, fucking music.” He murmurs against your skin as his kisses begin to trail lower, making his way down your abdomen.
When he finally reaches your hip you think you truly lose your mind. The one and only thought you can muster is ‘Lewis’. He takes his time, kissing across your pelvic bone, moving lower and kissing down the tops of your thighs. Finally he begins his ascent back up, nibbling on your inner thighs as he does, this tongue tracing circles against your skin that you have a desperate need to feel elsewhere, somewhere he’s been neglecting so far. Finally his fingers hook into the band of your thong, a lacey one you chose specifically for tonight, hoping this would happen finally. He hesitates for a moment, his eyes flicking to yours for a final confirmation.
“Please.” You breath out, lifting your hips to help him remove the tiny piece of fabric.
“Fuck Y/N” He says, just as breathless as you as he takes in the sight before him. He’s looking at you with the same admiration that he had when he took your dress off.
His thumb brushes gently against your folds, enough to make you shiver and moan but not nearly enough to satisfy the desire deep in your bones. You move your hips closer to him, earning a faint chuckle but thankfully he takes the queue, parting you open for himself so he can admire the aching bundle of nerves he’s dying to pull into his mouth. He strokes against you gently, just a few flicks before his thumb is trailing down to your opening, swiping up the wetness that is pooling.
“You’re making a mess, baby.” He tells you, his voice smug.
“Well, do something about it.” You snap back at him, your brattiness coming back with full force.
“Yes ma’am.” He laughs, giving you a playful salute that makes you want to slap him.
All your annoyance however is washed away in an instant when his lips finally suction around your mound, shocking you in a way you didn't know was possible. A loud moan leaves your mouth against your will, your hands moving to grab his bedsheets in an attempt to ground yourself. He groans against you, his tongue flicking in the perfect pattern, the combination sending you onto another planet.
“Oh fuck.” You squeal when he grabs your legs and puts them over his shoulders, diving in deeper and closer than he was before.
His mouth trails down, his nose still bumping against your clit as his tongue prods at your entrance, tasting every bit of you he can. His hands are tight on your hips, keeping you in place to pleasure you exactly how he wants. You can feel your stomach tightening, it’s embarrassingly quick you fear, but then he’s slipping a finger into you, his lips latching around your nerves.
“C’mon baby, I can feel it coming, give it to me.” He mumbles against you, the vibrations going through your spine.
You moan loudly, feeling the tension in your body rise. You’re a writhing mess, no longer able to be anchored by the arm draped across your stomach with little purpose. Just when you think you’re about to hit your peak you feel a second finger slip inside you, the pair hooking in the perfect motion that makes you crumble. You’re shaking as you moan loudly, your vision becoming blurry and your ears ringing as you come undone. His fingers never stop their torment, working you through it to ride out the high. When you finally come back into yourself Lewis is kissing along your thighs and leaving soft kisses to your overly sensitive core, his tongue dipping into you every now and again with a smirk.
“That feel okay?” He asks you when he finally sees you watching him, his tone dripping with the ever cocky ego of his.
“Oh shut up.” You giggle, pushing at his head as you burrow your head into the pillow next to you.
“Hey, c’mon now, don’t try to hide from me.” His voice is much closer than it was before and when you turn your head he’s directly above you, hovering over your face with a blissful smile that makes your heart clench.
“Don’t go getting too big of an ego, I needed a good fuck.” You giggle before his lips come down to meet yours.
“Mmmm, well first of all, just so you know, you taste divine and you look immaculate when you come,” He begins, mumbling against your lips before he trails down to your neck, “second of all, you haven’t gotten the good fuck yet darling,” With that he pulls away to look you dead in the eyes, “think you can handle that? Dying to know how incredible you feel.”
Within seconds you’ve gone from content mush to a horny animal again. You don’t know how your brain let you forget about the best part, you needed to feel him.
“Yes, oh my god please.” You breathe out, bordering on begging but you couldn’t care less in the world in that moment.
Your hands begin to move blindly, trying to find his belt buckle but just fumbling with nothing as you get distracted kissing him once again. He smiles, a genuine kind smile as he pulls away from you, sitting back on his heels to undo his pants himself. There’s something about the genuine happiness on his face that makes your heart clench and your stomach flip. He doesn’t just want a quick fuck, he wants you, he’s happy that its you. It’s not the cocky grin of a man who sweet talked some chick into his bed, it’s the genuine smile of a man who finally has the girl he’s been pining over for a year in front of him and finally on the same page. You’re only left to dwell on how much this means to him, to the both of you, for a mere moment, because soon he is lowering his pants and you catch your first proper glimpse of the prominent bulge threatening to burst his boxer briefs. You can’t hide your reaction, your eyes going wide when you see the size of it. You want to slap yourself, you should have known, you should have been prepared. Not only does the man exude ‘big dick energy’ in every thing that he does and says, he is usually sporting a bulge on the day to day without being hard. He clocks your reaction, a warm chuckle reverberating through his chest.
“Still sure about this?” He asks, his voice soft, catching on to your genuine hesitation.
“Can I see it?” You ask and immediately want to take it back, you feel like a teenager afraid of seeing a dick for the first time.
He laughs softly, kicking off his pants fully before leaning down to kiss you again.
“Of course, you can see it, touch it, measure it, inspect it however you want before you decide.” His words are punctuated by kisses, carrying a teasing lilt with every one.
“Stop, it’s just, your ego obviously doesn’t need it, but it looks bigger than what I’m used to.” You whine, your voice becoming shy as you attempt to dodge his kisses in embarrassment.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” The tease has left his tone, his voice soft and serious now, “we only do whatever you can handle, okay?”
You finally look back at him, embarrassed by your shock. The beautiful brown eyes that you meet hold nothing but sincerity, helping your nerves immensely.
“We’ll go slow, yeah?” He prompts, squeezing your thigh.
You nod, wanting desperately to connect with him that intimately. It’s been a desire burning within you for so long now you can't fathom possibly backing out, you know he’ll take care of you.
“You wanna touch it first?” He asks, his voice sincere but still causing you to laugh, making him join in with you, “Hey, I’m serious, maybe it’ll help.” You can hear the seriousness in his voice behind his giggles.
“Okay, yeah, actually that might help.” You admit, your laughter finally quieting down.
When he rids himself of his boxers you almost go through the same shock again. Firstly because of just how large he is, he’s longer than anyone else you've ever seen and so girthy you’re not sure you will be able to wrap your hand around him. Secondly because there he is, naked in all his glory, his strong thighs proudly showing muscles you could never dream of having, his beautiful torso adorned with intricate images and abs that have made you drool since the first time you saw him without a shirt.Your desire for the man in front of you quickly overtakes any hesitation you’d previously had, quickly sitting up to grab him and pull him towards you, crashing your lips against his. He moans into your mouth as your tongue dances across his. You take all your lust and turn it into gumption, reaching down and gently brushing your hand along his cock. His grip on you tightens and an almost pained whimper leaves his mouth as you do so. You take that as a good sign, reaching in between your own legs to get your fingers wet before wrapping your hand properly around his cock, stroking him gently. A groan leaves his throat as he forcefully pulls his lips away from you.
“There’s no way you just did what I think you did, is there?” He asks you, his eyes blown out, crazed with lust and disbelief.
You just giggle, swiping your thumb over his leaking tip, leaning in again to catch his lip. He lets you stroke him for only a moment before he’s pulling away and grabbing your wrist.
“It feels amazing babe, but if you keep doing that I’m going to cum.” He tells you earnestly, his forehead resting against yours as he breathes heavily.
“Well I kinda thought that was the point of this whole thing.” You giggle at him, knowing exactly what he wants but enjoying getting to tease him if only for a moment.
“The point,” He begins, pushing you down to the bed by your hips so he is hovering over you again, “is that I would rather be inside you when I do.” His words are muffled against your skin as he kisses down your neck, your brain short circuiting.
“Please.” You breathe out for what feels like the hundredth time of the night.
“I got you.” He murmurs, your legs locking around his waist.
You feel his bulbous head trailing through your folds, collecting your wetness. You almost feel as if it must be a dream, there's no way you finally got this lucky. Then you feel the slightest bit of pressure at your opening, he's not even inside you yet and you gasp.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you, we’ll go slow, you just keep telling me how you feel, okay?” He whispers in your ear.
You nod and the second he’s sure you want it you feel him pushing forward, the stretch stinging and feeling like too much yet also feeling absolutely perfect. He only thrusts about a quarter of the way in before he’s pausing.
“How you feelin’ baby girl?” His voice is soothing but you can hear the strain as he asks the question. You need him to keep going, the momentary pain melting into ultimate satisfaction.
“More, oh my god, please.” You moan out.
He finally continues, pushing into you with such care it makes your heart burst. The way he’s handling you makes it evident that this isn’t just a fuck for him, it’s a coupling, He cares more about being close to you and your pleasure than he does the rest of it. When you feel his pelvis meet your clit you clench every muscle in your body, feeling fuller than ever before. He lets out a deep groan, dropping his head into the crook of your neck.
“You let me know when I can move sweetie, but you gotta relax for me. Okay?” You can hear the tension in his voice muffled against your neck, his lips moving against your skin.
You let out a breath, working through the overwhelming feeling of being so full of the man you care so deeply about, your body finally relaxing.
“Please move Lew, I need it.” You whimper out, your nails digging into his shoulders.
“That's my girl.” He says softly, his face just above yours with a soft smile as he begins to thrust.
Within moments he has found a pace that has your toes curling and your nails raking down his back. He is hitting every single spot you need him to, stretching you to the limit in the best way possible, working you to your peak in a shockingly quick manner. He’s not rough, he’s not fast, his movements are slow and languid. If he’s not staring directly into your eyes while he whispers sweet and filthy words to you, his lips are on yours as you swallow each other's moans. You’ve never been happier to have a vocal lover than Lewis, you can tell he is loving every single second, that he is overwhelmed with how good he feels. He’s not holding back a single moan, grunt, or groan and it’s only spurring on your pleasure. He sounds so good, looks so good, and feels so fucking good. You’ve never felt quite this all consumed by a man before, he is all that exists in the moment. He is leaning down on his forearms, his large biceps caging you in and it's all you can do not to lean over and bite them. His voice is in your ear when his tongue isn’t in your mouth, his heavy cock is splitting you in two with every perfectly aimed slow deliberate thrust, his pelvis is dragging across your clit giving you every ounce of pleasure you could ever need.You can already feel your toes clenching and your walls beginning to lock him in as you brace yourself in his shoulders.
“God, you feel fucking perfect, fucking made for me. My girl, all mine, huh?” His voice is rough as he talks to you, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes boring into yours.
You can only nod, tears slipping down your face as even moans refuse to escape your throat.
“That’s it baby, just feel it. Taking it like such a good girl.”
The tone of his voice and the dirty words tumbling from his lips have your stomach clenching, you know you’re almost there and so does he. His slow and steady pattern speeds up every so slightly, still keeping the same intimacy but increasing the obscene pleasure running through your body as his hand snakes down to properly rub at your clit.
“Let go for me Y/N, cum all over my cock, I’m right here, I’ve got you, lemme feel it.” His voice is strained but soothing as he talks you to your release.
Within seconds you let out a guttural moan, your whole body tensing as you feel the coil snap. The only word that can leave your mouth is his name, a chant of ‘Lewis’ leaving your tongue as your mind goes blank. You can faintly feel his thrusts falter before his own groan is matching yours, his head falling to your shoulder as thick ropes of cum lace your walls. You have no idea how long it is that you lay there on his bed completely limp. You have a faint memory of the whimper that left your lips when he finally pulled out of you. You know there was a moment of panic when you saw him begin to walk away but you were so blissed out that you ended up focusing on how good his ass looked. What you don’t know is how long it’s been since he left or how long you’ve been laying there, now all you can think about is how badly you want him back next to you. You try to move to sit up but quickly realize the best you can do is prop yourself up on your elbows. As you struggle, Lewis comes back into the room, holding a wet cloth and a glass of water, a smile across his face as he takes in the sight before him.
“You’ve been gone for forever.” You whine, unaware if it's even true or not, doing your best not to admire the fact that he is still stark naked in front of you.
“I’ve been gone for maybe two minutes,” He laughs, making his way towards you, “honestly didn’t even think you would notice, you seemed pretty content off in some bliss land.”
“Hey, that’s technically your fault.” You weakly argue, falling back onto the bed.
“A fault I will happily take,” He smirks, leaning down toward you and pressing his lips against yours, “again, and again, and again, and again.” Each declaration is sealed with a kiss, making you giggle and very weakly try to push him away.
He finally moves away from his assault of kisses, placing the water on the night stand next to you and moving to part your thighs which immediately makes you protest.
“Lew, it was amazing but I can’t.” You whine, squirming away from him.
“Baby,” He laughs, trying to stay sweet but far too amused by your sex drunk mood, “I wasn’t trying anything, I swear, just wanna clean you up because I think a shower is pretty far from your reality right now.”
“Oh.” You mutter, not used to any of your partners ever taking the time to take care of you afterwards. It was usually you realizing a little while later that you had to make sure you peed at the very least.
Lewis however makes sure to take extra care with you, one hand massaging your thigh as the other wipes the warm cloth against your skin. He does smirk when he reaches your core and sees you flinch the slightest bit, but even with your reaction he stays sweet and careful, caressing you in what can only be described as a loving manner. When he’s done, he throws the cloth carelessly onto the floor, something you would have thought would drive him insane, knowing he’s a tidy control freak. Instead of worrying about it, he runs his hands up your sides, kneading at your flesh in a way that somehow feels intimate but not sexual.
“Do you want to sleep like this? Or do you want some clothes?” He asks gently, placing a kiss to your stomach that once again manages to not feel suggestive somehow.
You can feel yourself getting shy. You know the answer he wants but you really want at least a t-shirt, something about sleeping naked has always made you feel weird. You hesitate for a moment, your answer apparently written all over your face because he just smiles and places another kiss against your skin before getting up and heading towards his closet.
“T-shirt or sweatshirt?” He calls out from within the closet, not an ounce of bother in his tone.
“Sweatshirt?” You answer, unsure of yourself.
“Boxers, shorts, or sweatpants?” He calls out again, unphased by your request.
“Is boxers weird?” You ask, still unsure.
“Nope!” He says, emerging from the closet, now wearing a pair of sweatpants low on his hips, his hand full of a stack of clothing for you.
“I’m sorry.” You mutter as you sit up to take the clothing from him.
“Arms up,” He says, the sweatshirt above your head ready to dress you, making you giggle, “and why are you sorry for wanting to be comfy while you sleep?” His voice is muffled through the thick fabric of the sweatshirt that he places over your head.
“I’m sure you would have rathered, I said naked.” You admit as your head pops out the neck hole making him laugh.
“Sweetie, you’re in my bed, that’s all I need. Want you to be comfortable.” He says sincerely, a soft smile on his face as he leans down to place a kiss on your forehead. “Besides I’ve always been kinda convinced that monsters will grab me if I have a foot out from under my blanket so I can’t blame you for wanting to sleep in something.”
You can’t help but let out a genuine laugh at that, knowing that that was one of your childhood fears yet it still follows one of the most fearless men you know.
“Alright, ya gotta scooch this beautiful bum.” His instructions come out soft with a soft pat to your ass as he slides the boxers up your legs.
Everything about the moment feels so loving and playful, it’s hard to imagine that this man that is saying bum and telling you he’s afraid of monsters under the bed was making you see stars and become delirious mere minutes ago. This was a feeling you could definitely get used to. Once you were dressed, Lewis was prying the blankets out from under you, attempting to make room for himself in the bed, laughing at your lack of movement.
“Okay, first note to self, she’s a damn bed hog.” He said playfully once you were both in the sheets, his arm wrapping around you in an attempt to pull you as close as possible.
“Hey, you can’t possibly already be making a cons list, you wore me down like three hours ago.” You argue, half serious, as he maneuvers you so you’re laying against his chest as he hikes your leg up over his hips.
“Not a cons list, just a things to remember list.” He assures you softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“Okay, I suppose I can live with that.” You huff playfully into his chest, your fingers tracing patterns along his pecs.
He hums in satisfaction, evidently enjoying your soft touch on his skin as you cuddle further into him.
“Hey Lewis.” You grab his attention, your voice muffled with your cheek smushed into his chest.
“Yeah baby?” His voice is tired as he massages the back of your head, his other hand tracing soothing patterns on your back underneath his stolen sweatshirt.
“We’re gonna make this work, right?” You ask him, your voice timid but needing to hear the confirmation before you can let yourself fall into a peaceful sleep.
“I’m going to do everything in my damn power Love, would never forgive myself for letting you slip away” He tells you seriously even though you can tell he’s beginning to drift off.
That’s all you needed to hear. You let yourself nestle even further into him than you thought was possible, beyond happy that you finally admitted that this was your man. Nothing could ever be perfect, and while your reservations may still have some validity, nothing was better than this beautiful man underneath you and you were prepared to fight like hell to keep him.
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violetskylights0 · 2 days ago
Note
Can you please do selvika if her and the reader did nnn(no nut November) like you did with vi (To be honest she would probably be like no 😭) Its ok if you don't want to
I am a Vi girl to my very core but I must give the people what they want. I thought it would be cute and short...and now we have some of the nastiest shit I have ever written. I hope it's everything you wanted and more xoxo. @starisinlovewiththemoon
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Games we like to play (18 +)
Prostitute!reader x Sevika
Warnings: Degradation/Smut/Pet names/Kind of cute?
No Nut November. Just saying it felt ridiculous. You’d heard about it before—whispers in the brothel about Piltover clients and their strange indulgences in self-denial. You’d always dismissed it as yet another quirk of the privileged: something to laugh at, not take seriously.
And it wasn’t like you had the luxury of turning down indulgence. Working at the brothel wasn’t about holding back; it was about giving people exactly what they wanted. Or needed. You didn’t care much either way—clients came and went, their faces blurring together after a while.
That is until Sevika walked in.
You’d known her by reputation, of course. Everyone in the Undercity did. She was Silco’s right hand, the enforcer with a mechanical arm and a short temper to match. People whispered about her in a way that made you assume she was ruthless, dangerous, someone you didn’t want to cross paths with unless you had to.
So, when she first stepped into your room, you froze. The light was dim, but there was no mistaking her broad shoulders, the scar cutting across her cheek, or the way her eyes flicked over the space with a calculated calm.
You expected her to bark orders, to demand something rough or impersonal. But instead, she went to your bar cart, poured herself a drink, and leaned casually against the wall. “Nice setup,” she’d said, her tone low and unhurried.
Her behavior threw you. You weren’t sure what to make of her—this woman who seemed both entirely in control and quietly restrained. You talked for a while, about nothing in particular, and the longer you listened, the more the fear melted into something else. Curiosity, maybe. Intrigue.
A drink or two in, though? That reserved demeanor? Gone. That night, she paid for three hours—and she’d used every minute.
Since then, she’d been your only client. It wasn’t just the money—though she made sure you didn’t need anyone else—but the connection. She was different. Reserved but attentive, with a way of making you feel like the only person in the room. You didn’t put labels on it—Sevika wasn’t the type for that—but it was something. Enough to make you bold.
Which is how this conversation started.
“I heard one of my coworkers talking about it with her Piltover client,” you said, voice light as you trailed your fingers along Sevika’s arm. The sheets rustled between your legs as she came up for air and propped herself up on one elbow, dark eyes narrowing at you in amusement.
“Go on,” she said, her voice low and rough, already laced with suspicion.
“It’s this thing they do. No Nut November.” You tried not to laugh at the words, but Sevika’s expression—a mix of disbelief and amusment—nearly broke your composure.
“No... what now?” she repeated, her lips twitching into a smirk.
You bit your lip, enjoying the rare moment of catching her off guard. “Basically, it’s a whole month where you’re not allowed to... you know.”
Sevika snorted, dropping her head and rolling on her side “You’re telling me people do this shit on purpose?”
“Apparently,” you said, biting back a grin. “Some kind of self-control thing.”
“Sounds like something those Piltover assholes came up with. Too much money, not enough brains.” Her voice was dry, but the faint chuckle undercut the sharpness.
“Probably,” you agreed, laughing softly. “But... it could be fun.”
Sevika stilled, her gaze snapping back to you. “What?”
“We could try it,” you said, keeping your voice as casual as possible. “Just for the hell of it. What’s the harm?”
She sat up fully, pulling her tank top back on as she shook her head. “No offense, sweetheart, but isn’t the whole point of what we do to not hold back?” Her tone was blunt, but there was an edge of curiosity behind it like she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.
You frowned, the remainder of your undefined “arrangement” stinging a little. But you weren’t about to give up that easily.
“C’mon, Sev,” you murmured, letting the sheet slip off your body as you stood. Her gaze flicked downward for a moment before she caught herself, her jaw tightening.
“You barely have time to visit me these days,” you said softly, stepping closer. “I know things are... hard right now. Silco’s gone. You’re picking up all the pieces. I just thought maybe this could be something to take your mind off it all. Something just for us.”
You reached up, your fingers brushing against her cheek, tracing the rough edge of the scar there. Sevika exhaled, her shoulders relaxing slightly under your touch.
“And,” you added, your voice dropping as your hand moved to her arm, “think about how good it’ll feel at the end of the month. Me, all needy. And you…” Your fingers grazed the hard lines of her bicep, drawing her attention.
“Pent up?” she finished for you, a low chuckle rumbling in her chest.
You grinned. “Exactly.”
She stared at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, with a heavy sigh, she reached for your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” she murmured, her voice softening as her forehead rested against yours.
You smiled, standing on your toes to kiss her. Her lips were warm and surprisingly gentle, a contrast to the roughness of her calloused hand as it held you steady.
“Fine,” Sevika muttered against your lips, pulling you closer as she sealed the deal. “Two weeks. But don’t think for a second I’m making it easy for you.”
You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you pulled back, excitement bubbling up like steam in a kettle about to burst. For a moment, you thought you saw the faintest flush creeping up her neck, but she turned away too quickly for you to be sure.
“Two weeks,” she repeated, adjusting her cape as if to distract herself. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.”
You smirked, leaning against the doorway to watch her go. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
This was going to be very, very interesting.
The first week wasn’t so bad. You stuck to your usual routine, and seeing Sevika three times that week made it unexpectedly fun.
Tuesday’s visit to her apartment was a perfect example. She’d summoned you with a cryptic, “Come by tonight,” and though her tone was casual, it always managed to spark a thrill deep in your chest.
Navigating the labyrinth of Zaun’s backstreets was second nature by now, though it still carried an edge of excitement. The quiet hum of the city and the faint buzz of neon lights guided you to her door, where you knocked three times—the code you’d both settled on.
The door opened with no preamble, and there stood Sevika, framed by the dim light spilling out from her apartment. The sight of her stopped you dead in your tracks.
Her cigarette hung loosely between her lips as she fiddled with her mechanical arm, muttering something under her breath. The dark brown tank top she wore stretched tight over her chest, highlighting the sculpted curve of her shoulders, while her black boxers sat dangerously low on her hips. The disheveled look was almost unfairly attractive, and it left you feeling momentarily speechless.
Her sharp eyes flicked up to meet yours, and a small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. “You gonna stand there all night or come in?”
You slipped inside quickly, your pulse already quickening. She moved to her couch and collapsed into it like she owned the world, legs spread wide, exuding an effortless dominance that made your skin tingle.
Without missing a beat, you crossed the room and climbed onto her lap, settling yourself like you’d been invited—even though you hadn’t been. You plucked the cigarette from her lips and took a long drag, locking eyes with her as you exhaled.
“You know,” she drawled, her tone low and teasing, “you could always ask before you take.”
“And what’s the fun in that?” you shot back, a playful grin spreading across your lips.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward. “Keep pushing, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice a velvet threat.
Before you could quip back, she had you pinned to the couch, her large hand encircling your throat—not squeezing, just enough to make your breath hitch. Her lips crashed into yours, the kiss deep and consuming, like she was claiming you all over again.
Her knee pressed up between your thighs, and the pressure was just enough to pull a shameless moan from you. The sound made her grin, slow and wicked.
“Ready to give up this silly little game you insist on playing?” she asked, her voice husky as her lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.
The reminder of your bet jolted you out of your haze, and you pushed against her shoulders, sitting up dramatically. “You’re already trying to sabotage me!” you accused, narrowing your eyes at her.
“And it almost worked,” she said, her grin unfazed. “C’mon, sweetheart. Give it up. You know you can’t say no to me.”
You scoffed, your gaze darting to the table beside you where her screwdriver lay. With a smirk, you snatched it up and held it out to her. “Give me that.”
Her brow arched, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
“Well,” you continued, shrugging nonchalantly, “since you’re paying for my time, I might as well make myself useful. You looked frustrated when I showed up.”
Her confusion melted into reluctant amusement as she took the screwdriver. “You offering to fix my arm now?”
“Depends,” you said, gesturing for her to sit back down. “Which screw were you trying to tighten?”
She hesitated for a moment before sitting down and explaining the issue. You listened intently, nodding along and offering the occasional suggestion, though you weren’t exactly an expert.
The rest of the evening was spent sifting through her pile of spare parts, sharing drinks, and laughing over failed attempts to jury-rig solutions. At one point, you glanced up from the mess to find her watching you—not with her usual smugness, but something softer, quieter. The look vanished as quickly as it came, leaving you questioning if you’d imagined it.
By week two, though, things got harder—literally and figuratively. Your body betrayed you at every turn, and the tension was maddening. It left you feeling like a pent-up teenager, desperate and all too aware of every brush of fabric, every suggestive glance. But if Sevika thought you’d break first, she had another thing coming.
Which brought you to Friday night at The Last Drop. Sevika’s routine was as predictable as clockwork—every Friday, she’d be at her usual table, gambling and sipping whiskey like she didn’t have a care in the world. It was the perfect opportunity to test her resolve.
You stood in front of the mirror, applying the last swipe of lip gloss and admiring your handiwork. The black leather skirt clung to your hips, catching the faint glow of the moonlight, and your low-cut top highlighted just enough cleavage to make Sevika’s attention inevitable. You smoothed your hair, gave yourself one last smirk, and headed out.
The bouncer at The Last Drop barely looked up before nodding in the direction of Sevika’s table. You spotted her immediately, lounging like a queen among her subjects. Her cigar glowed faintly in the low light, and the subtle curve of her smirk as she leaned back in her chair set your nerves buzzing.
You approached with deliberate confidence, the click of your heels drawing eyes as you stopped beside her. “Is that seat taken?” you asked, motioning to her lap.
The table fell silent, the men and women around Sevika staring openly, their gazes lingering far too long for your liking. Sevika, however, barely glanced at you before leaning back and spreading her legs slightly in invitation.
You lowered yourself onto her lap, adjusting your skirt just enough to let her feel the curve of your hips against her. Her hand settled on your thigh, a possessive touch that sent shivers through you.
She leaned in, her breath brushing the shell of your ear as she whispered, “It’s cute that you thought dressing like a slut would make me jealous. But here’s the thing—they all know you’re my slut. What’s there to be jealous about when they can only dream?”
Her low chuckle rumbled through you as she tossed some chips onto the table, her hand sliding higher on your thigh.
The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, but you weren’t backing down—not yet.
Game on.
The game at the table picked up, the noise growing louder with every passing round. You barely paid attention, more focused on Sevika's drink getting dangerously low. Without waiting for her to ask, you hopped up to grab her another. Her hand delivered a quick, casual pat to your ass as you walked away, and you couldn’t help the sly grin that spread across your face.
At the bar, you scanned the crowd for a target. Spiked-hair guy slumped over near a puddle of vomit? Nope. A buzzcut woman giving you that look from the middle of the room? Way too easy. Then, your gaze landed on her: a loudmouth with an undercut and no clue about the pecking order here. Jackpot.
You sidled up to the bar, ignoring her completely at first. Tapping your empty glass, you got the bartender’s attention, who already knew what to pour: whiskey for Sevika. Only then did you glance her way.
“Looks like you’re having a hell of a time over here,” you said, flashing a playful smile.
She turned toward you, the conversation with her friend forgotten. Her eyes swept over you with a low whistle. “And I think I’m about to have an even better one,” she smirked.
Right where you wanted her. But she needed to work a little harder for it.
As she started asking about you, you casually mentioned the brothel. Her eyes lit up like it was her birthday.
“You know,” you said, tilting your head coyly, “I do give discounts to clients who know how to show me a good time.”
“Oh, yeah?” she grinned, leaning closer. “Convenient, since I’ve got some cash burning a hole in my pocket.” Her hand found the back of your thigh, pulling you in just enough to make the air between you crackle.
You felt Sevika’s gaze burning into your back from across the room, but you didn’t turn around. Instead, you leaned into the stranger’s touch, tapping the muscles of her arm teasingly.
“I think I’d like a preview of what the rest of my night could look like,” she said, her voice dropping as she tapped your chin up with her finger.
“Oh, yeah?” you whispered, your lips inches from hers. “Why don’t you show me what I’m working with?”
Just as she started to lean in, you barely had time to process the hand on your thigh disappearing. A blur of movement later, the stranger hit the floor, a guttural thud snapping the air between you.
Sevika stood over her, gripping the fabric of her shirt with one hand.
“I’ll give you five seconds to get the fuck out of my bar,” Sevika growled, her voice low and razor-sharp. “Before I break every disgusting finger that touched my girl.”
Your eyes widened as the stranger stammered something snarky, but it didn’t matter. Sevika’s fist connected with her nose before she could finish. Blood sprayed, and the woman crumpled onto the ground.
Sevika turned to you, her jaw tight, her eyes blazing.
“Office. Now.”
Before you could respond, she grabbed your hand, dragging you toward the back. The door slammed shut behind you, leaving you alone with the familiar tension crackling between you like a storm about to break.
You leaned back against Silco’s old desk, arms crossed. “Well, someone’s jealous.”
Her glare could’ve melted steel. “Jealous?” she barked, stalking toward you. “It’s one thing to show up dressed like that, begging for attention. But you were practically dry-humping her in front of everyone.”
You shrugged, biting back a grin. “Isn’t that my job? Making sure potential clients are… interested in what they see?”
Her growl reverberated through the room as she closed the distance between you. “Yeah, well, from now on, I’m your only client that matters.”
Your smirk widened. “Sevika, are you trying to make us exclusive?”
She chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. “This isn’t about some stupid game. You’ve been trying to drive me insane since day one, and guess what? You did it. Congratulations. Now I’m gonna make you regret it.”
“Funny,” you teased, hopping up onto the desk and letting your knees fall open just enough. “Seems like everything’s going exactly according to plan.”
Her jaw clenched, and for a moment, she just stared at you. Then, with an exasperated chuckle, she stepped between your legs, her hands landing on your hips.
“I knew you’d be the death of me,” she muttered, before grabbing your neck and crashing her lips into yours.
Every ounce of frustration and tension boiled over in that kiss, her grip firm and unrelenting as if to remind you exactly who was in charge now. And this time, you didn’t argue.
You had made out with Sevika plenty of times before. But as her tongue slid into your mouth this time, it was different. There was no pretense, no playful back-and-forth teasing. This wasn’t just a hookup, and you weren’t just some random conquest.
She wasn’t kissing a prostitute. She was staking a claim.
A moan escaped your lips as she pushed you back against the desk, the edge digging into your lower back as her frame towered over you. You gasped when she climbed on top of you, her weight a deliberate reminder of how much control she had.
Her lips trailed from your jaw to your neck, biting down hard enough to leave marks that you knew you’d see tomorrow. “I think I’ll start by ruining this little outfit,” she growled, her voice dark and rich. “Since you’re so set on showing the Undercity what’s mine, I’ll make it easier for you.”
Her metal hand traced up your waist, the cold edge of her finger sending shivers down your spine. You barely had time to process her next move before she dragged it sharply upward, slicing clean through your top like it was nothing.
You inhaled sharply as the fabric fell away, leaving you exposed. Sevika sat back for a moment, her eyes raking over you with a hunger that sent heat pooling low in your stomach.
“Much better,” she muttered, her lips quirking into a wicked smirk as she leaned in, her nose brushing against yours. “But you’re not done paying for that little stunt at the bar, sweetheart.”
Her hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to meet her gaze. “You wanna play games?” she teased, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Fine. I’ll play. But we both know how this ends.”
“Do we?” you shot back, your voice breathy but still defiant. “Seems to me like you’re the one losing your cool.”
That earned you a sharp laugh, her teeth flashing as her smirk widened. “Keep talking,” she said, her voice low. “Let’s see how long you last before you’re begging me to stop.”
You opened your mouth to make a smart ass comment  but it was already to late as she started pinching one of your nipples with her real hand. 
‘Look at these already stiff. You really are a fucking whore.” Sevika said aggresily spitting on your chest before leaning down and licking it to spead over your left nipple. 
You started moaning as she swirlled her tongue and lightly bit at your nipple as your hands shot to her hair. She made sure to leave a few hickeys before quickly tearing through your mini skirt as well quickly dropping to her knees and pulling you to the edge of the desk. 
You groaned, your head tipping back as Sevika pinned your thighs nearly flat against your shoulders. The contrast was maddening—her metal hand icy against your left thigh, the sharp edges biting just enough to tease, while the warmth of her calloused fingers on your right thigh sent sparks shooting through your body.
"Look at you," she murmured, her voice low and taunting as her eyes roamed over you. "Can’t decide if you like it rough or soft, huh? Guess I’ll just give you both."
Her grip tightened, the cold metal sending a shiver up your spine as she leaned down, her breath ghosting over your neck. The deliberate pressure of her hands, one hard and unyielding, the other impossibly warm and strong, had you arching into her without thinking.
“Keep making noises like that, and I might just keep you pinned like this all night,” she teased, her lips brushing against your ear. “Bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
You bit your lip, trying to suppress the needy whimper threatening to spill out. But Sevika caught it, her smirk practically audible as she shifted her weight, her metal fingers teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
“Thought so,” she growled, leaning in to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the hollow of your throat.
You loved when Sevika treated you like a ragdoll with no other purpose than to her pretty little fucktoy and cum. And you were already close to cumming thirty seconds after her tongue started dancing across your clit. The sound of Sevika slurping up all of your juices made you go wild. 
You felt her hand on your right thigh move to your entrance groaning at the feeling of her two fingers stretching you out. 
“Cant believe this pussy is so greedy sucking my fingers in. It’s almost like you get off of me degrading you huh” Sevika moaned continuing her assault on your clit with her tounge.
“Well I’ll make it worth your wild hm? Cum on my fucking fingers like the greedy slut you are.” Sevika engouraged instantly sending you over the edge as your legs began to shake as you called out Sevikas name. 
You barley had time to cathcn your breath before Sevika told you to stand up and turn around to brace yourself against the desk. 
You heard her undoing her pants and feeling something kind of warm and hard against your entrance.
“Thought I would wear this think out to see if it was comfortable enough to bring over to the brothel. Didnt know it would come in handy so soon.” She said pressing into you as the object slid inside of you wour jaw falling slack from the sensation. 
‘W-what is that- oh my god.” You said gripping the desk.
“Saw some women talking about this thing when I was up in Piltover running some collections. I think they called it a strap? Figures your sloppy pussy would take it in one go.” Sevika said starting to roll her hips so the strap started moving in and out of you. 
You had never felt something so good your eyes rolling back as she picked up the speed. 
She gripped your hair with one hand as she moved her knee between yours using her muscular thigh to push you bent leg up on the desk. Increasing her speed even more. 
It felt so fucking good you didnt even have control of what was flying out of your mouth just expletives and Sevikas name.
As the slapping sounds began to echo through the room you felt yourself getting close again As Sevikas grunts sounded like a melody against your ears. 
“ Go ahead screm it louder baby. Let everyone in the bar- no everyone in the lanes know who this pussy belongs to.” She grunted bringing her hand down on your ass with a hard slap as she continued ramming into you. 
“Fuck it’s all yours Sev! S-stresching me out so good.” You slurred feeling your orgasm washing over your. You thought she would slow her pace but as your orgasm began to calm Sevika kept punding into you.
You felt your eyes roll back getting light headed from the pressure. A new feeling building in your stomach. 
“I know you have more in you hm? Show daddy how well you can squirt all over my strap. She said smacking your ass again. 
You shrieked her name cursing her out as you felt a sudden rush followed by a feeling of wetness shooting all over your leg as Sevika groaned at how well you were taking it. 
Sevika finally slowed her pace, her movements deliberate and torturous as she eased out of you. The rush of sensation left you dizzy, your body slack, and your legs threatening to give out entirely. You stumbled forward, but Sevika was quick, catching you effortlessly.
She chuckled low in her throat, the sound vibrating through you as she scooped you up into her arms like you weighed nothing. Carrying you to the worn couch in the corner of the room, she settled down with you perched in her lap, your body still trembling in the aftershocks.
“You’re such an asshole,” you muttered, your voice breathy and ragged. You barely had the energy to lift your head, but the accusation carried all the heat you could muster. “First, you tell the whole damn bar I’m your girl, then you ruin my favorite skirt, and then you fuck me like that?”
Sevika smirked, her hand idly tracing patterns along your thigh. “Mm, don’t forget—I also carried your pretty ass over here.”
“Not the point,” you shot back, though the warmth in her touch had your indignation quickly waning.
Her smirk deepened, dark eyes glinting with mischief. “I think you’re forgetting something,” she murmured, her voice thick with self-satisfaction.
You tilted your head, confused and still trying to regain full control of your brain. “What?”
Her grin was almost feral as she leaned in close, her lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“I won your stupid game.”
The realization hit you like a slap. “Oh, hell no—”
“Uh-uh,” she interrupted, cutting off your protests with a possessive kiss that left you breathless all over again. When she finally pulled back, her smug expression had you torn between wanting to strangle her and kiss her again.
“Face it,” Sevika said, her tone dripping with smug satisfaction as her hand trailed lazily up your spine. “You can’t resist me. You never could.”
You opened your mouth to retort, but the smug arch of her brow and the way her fingers tightened just enough on your waist shut you up fast. Damn her for being right.
Sevika’s laugh rumbled through her chest as she leaned back, utterly victorious. “That’s what I thought,” she said, her voice teasing as she rested her head against the back of the couch. “Guess that makes me the reigning champion, huh?”
You huffed, your pride smarting, but the way her arms tightened around you, grounding and comforting, made it impossible to stay mad.
“Fine,” you grumbled, resting your head against her chest. “But next time, I’m taking home the crown.”
“We’ll see, sweetheart,” Sevika murmured, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple. “We’ll see.”
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sage-nebula · 2 days ago
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I've been suicidal many times in my life, and while I could talk about those experiences, given what this post is about, I'd rather talk about something else.
My boss at my previous job was not just my boss. He was my friend, my mentor. I'd met him as a student employee; I still remember the day I went in for my interview, and I asked to speak with "Mr [name]," and the other student employee who answered the door made a face and said, "Hey, Mr [Name], this girl is here to see you" when he let me in because my boss never wanted us to be so formal with him. We were on a first-name basis with him, always. I was nineteen, and super nervous interviewing for my first job that wasn't retail or food service, but he cracked jokes and made me feel welcome. He treated all of us like that.
He was just a really good man. He always stood up for us, every time the university tried to do something that would make our lives harder or less safe. I made a Facebook status once about how I was harassed by a gas station employee near the university, and he commented telling me he'd bring his bat if I needed it. When one of the supervisors ended up overstepping boundaries in a big way with us student employees, he worked overtime to make sure that we would all be safe. When I got promoted to a supervisor position after graduation, and took it upon myself to oversea the yearly Secret Santa tradition for the students (meaning I didn't participate because otherwise I would know who my Secret Santa was), he decided he wasn't letting me go without a present and got me one anyway, despite my insistence that it wasn't necessary.
Unfortunately, he had his own demons to fight. He was going through difficult stuff in his personal life. He told me a lot about it; I was a confidant for him, and at one point he told me I was the only person he could speak to about any of it. More unfortunately still, as much as I wanted to be there for him, I was also struggling to keep my own mental health on track. It was around this time that I was looking into starting antidepressants / anti-anxiety medication for the first time because of how much I was struggling, and I was really focused on getting all of that sorted so that I could stop being tempted by the trains I heard pass by my home every night. Because of this, I didn't check in on him regularly. And so, when his boss called me one morning before my shift was supposed to start and told me that he had taken his own life, I was consumed by more than just shock and grief; I was crushed by guilt.
You see, I blamed myself. Largely because he had told me I was the only one who could confide in, I couldn't help but think that if I had checked in on him more regularly, if I had been there, this wouldn't have happened. I could have prevented it. I could have saved him. He wouldn't have taken his own life, and it wouldn't have been one of his young daughters who found him like that. Not only had I lost a friend of nine years, but I felt like I failed him.
I know now that isn't the case. There were many factors involved, not the least of which being it turns out I wasn't the only one he confided in after all. But it took me a long time to reach that point—a long time until I could honestly say that I didn't feel like it was my fault.
In the midst of depression and suicidal ideation, it can be incredibly hard to see the importance that you have in other people's lives—the place that you have there, that no one else can fill. I know this intimately, because it is something that I struggle with regularly. But even if you can't see it, you have to hold in the forefront of your mind that the importance is there. The impact will be felt. Not only do people care about you, but those closest to you will hold the weight of responsibility for your life on their shoulders for a long time. If nothing else, you don't want that for the people you care about, do you? You don't want to do that to them, do you?
You are not the only one harmed by your suicide. In fact, you're the one who will feel the impact the least. Death doesn't hurt the deceased; it only wounds the living. That's why we have funerals: it's for the sake of those left behind. But no amount of funerals or celebrations of life can assuage the pain left by a suicide. It doesn't help. Notes don't either.
If you're in a place where you're ideating, reconsider. Reach out to someone close to you. Tell them where you are, mentally, and have them come be with you. Believe me when I say that they would much rather sit awake with you all night, than wake up the next morning to a message that you're gone.
Give us the chance to be there for you. It's all we ask.
periodic reminder that your death by your own hand will wreak more havoc on the lives of those you know than you are ever capable of imagining and if you need a sign not to kill yourself this is it. people care more than you know & i am one of them
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meanbossart · 2 days ago
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im so curious-- how well does DUDrow get on with the other companions? I've only seen your art and going off that I feel like: he gets along with Shadowheart, Gale I think he borderline cant stand, and Wyll/Lae'zel/Karlach I have no idea how he'd feel about them but id love to know!
So, funfact, because I was not familiar with these kinds of games at the time I played BG3, I practically stuck with the same exact party the entire playthrough. I distinctly remember swapping Wyll in for Astarion once at the end of act 2 because I thought he NEEDED to be there to find Mizora, and I replaced Gale with Karlach when I went to kill Gortash. Otherwise... It was pretty much always just DU drow, Shadowheart, Astarion and Gale. I did this because they were the characters I liked most, so I wanted to see all they had to offer.
Anyways, I mention this because it reflects how DU drow related to everyone - which is to say that he didn't. He picked his favorites (two because he liked them, one because he has fireball) and didn't get particularly close to anyone else.
BUT, there were definitely notable dynamics!
Lae'zel: She's dead. He killed her night 3 or something. Before that he thought her annoyingly demanding and over the top. I don't think DU drow even remembers her by the end of the game.
Gale: Just to add to your original observation, Gale and DU drow have a little bit of history. Gale tries, for about half of the campaign, to pursue him romantically. DU drow keeps turning him down and is either misinterpreted or ignored, and by the time Gale does give up on him their relationship has completely soured to the point where they are constantly shooting daggers at each other. (this reflects a romance bug I got in my first run, except I didn't realize it was a bug. Either way I think its more interesting storytelling than the intended experience.)
Wyll: DU drow was profoundly frustrated by Wyll every step of the way. He found him to be incredibly naive and a bit delusional in his pursuit for heroism, and could never relate to Wyll's perspective or choices - the few he made for himself, at least. They definitely had the least in common and DU drow avoided interacting with him most of the time.
Halsin: He didn't care for Halsin much. He was vaguely helpful but by the time they got to the shadow-cursed lands DU drow had the impression he'd only been dragged here to help him clear his conscience, which he didn't appreciate. Also, he couldn't bear to have someone in camp be taller than himself. Halsin was left behind in Act 2.
Jaheira: DU drow fucking loves Jaheira. They bickered and borderline insulted each other and had a great time doing it. He can respect anyone who will call him a monster, threaten to murder him in his sleep, and make light fun at him the next day. It helps that she's hot, also.
Minsc: Weird hamster man. Ocasionally rendered him speechless. Puzzling human being.
Karlach: He didn't get Karlach, but he was often amused by her and curious enough to want to hear what she had to say. There was a similar issue here as Wyll's where he just couldn't relate to her enough to have much to discuss, but Karlach at least had an edge to her that made her far better company. They got along pretty well when the topic wasn't serious, but when it came to the problems she actually faced their perspectives shifted significantly. DU drow thought everything could be fixed, that accepting her own demise was a cowardly thing to do - and as they approached the end, and she asked him if he would stay with her when she died, he thought she was weak. I don't know if he ever discusses it with anyone, but he feels guilty about her death to this day and sees it as personal failure.
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barcaatthemoon · 3 days ago
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drives me crazy || laia codina x reader ||
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Laia trusts you, but that doesn't stop her from getting jealous.
18+
"I need a night out." You never could have imagined where that one sentence would take you. A bye week for Arsenal meant that when the weekend rolled around, some of the girls were more than happy to go out for the night with you. Somehow, Laia had managed to talk friends from other teams into going as well, and that was how you ended up sandwiched between two Spanish women who were definitely not your girlfriend.
You had known Leila for long enough to know the woman was handsy. You came to Arsenal from Manchester City, transferring after the Spanish woman's first season. The two of you were friends, so you didn't bat an eyelash at the way that her hands gripped your hips.
Laia Alexandri seemed to just follow Leila's lead when it came to dancing with you. Both women were getting a bit handsy with you, but you reminded yourself that they were naturally much more affectionate. You remembered the way that your own girlfriend had been early on your relationship. These two were even more naturally friendly and affectionate than your girlfriend seemed to be, so you were kind of letting a lot slide.
Your girlfriend, however, simply put, was not. Laia had been getting a couple of drinks at the bar, one for herself and one for you, when she looked over to see Leila tilt your head back. She had noticed you sandwiched between the two women earlier in the night, but now it genuinely looked like Leila was making a move on you. You seemed oblivious, and Laia had to remind herself that you weren't letting them do that because you were interested.
"No intervenga!" Laia shouted over the music. You felt yourself getting pulled away, and you opened your eyes to see Laia staring at Leila with murderous intent. Laia pushed you behind her towards the bar to collect the drinks while she pulled Leila off to the side. You watched them argue, knowing damn well both women were speaking Spanish too quickly for you to understand it if you had been close by.
"She does not look happy mate," Katie commented as she watched the exchange.
"I don't know if I should go over there." You were biting your lip, slightly worried that one of them would cause a scene. "What do you think?"
"I think that if Caitlin had let two other women touch her like that, we wouldn't be speaking for a while," Katie said. You suddenly got much more afraid of the situation. Laia and Leila parted ways, Leila going right back to the dance floor and finding herself someone else to dance with. Your girlfriend briefly stopped by the bar to grab you on her way out, not saying a word until the two of you were nearly halfway to the car.
"Laia, babe, I'm sorry," you apologized. Laia glanced back at you, but only briefly. "Laia, please talk to me."
"Are you doing that on purpose?" Laia asked you. You tilted your head at her, puzzled by her question. You hadn't done anything intently, things just got a little out of hand with Leila.
"No, I'd never knowingly put myself in a situation like that. I mean it, I'm sorry about the thing with Leila. I shouldn't have let her get that handsy with me." Laia put her hand up to stop you from rambling. She placed her hands around your waist, tugging you flush against her.
"You drive me crazy sometimes," Laia whispered, as if she was afraid of anybody else hearing her words. Her gaze was fixed on your lips, but she didn't kiss you. Laia only walked with her arm around your waist for the rest of the way. She was still a perfect gentlewoman, opening your door and shutting it for you before she made her way around to the passenger's side.
Laia didn't let anything take her attention away from you. She acted as if you'd cease to exist the moment that she did. Still, Laia waited until the two of you were safely inside of her apartment to do anything.
You shouldn't have been surprised, but you were caught off guard by Laia pressing you up against the door. Her hands made quick work of undressing you, only breaking the absolutely bruising kiss to toss your clothes away. Laia backed away only when you were naked, leaving you to feel a tiny bit exposed with Laia still completely dressed in front of you.
"I should never let you out of my sight. If I had my way, we'd never leave the bedroom," Laia told you. She grabbed you by the hand and walked you over to the couch. Laia sat down first, making herself comfortable before she pulled you onto her lap.
You landed with your knees on both sides of her lap. Laia kept you raised slightly as she ducked her head down to bury her face in between your breasts. You could feel her pressing kisses to the skin there, going back and forth between your breasts as her fingers came up to tweak and tease your nipples.
"Laia," you whined, hips canting forward, but not enough for any friction. Laia seemed to like the sound of you whining for her, so she pinched a little harder. You tried once again to seek out friction, only to come up with nothing. "Laia, please."
"Keep saying my name, I love to hear it. I don't ever want to hear anybody else's name. Only mine, just us," Laia told you. She didn't tease you for much longer. Her hands fell from your breasts and trailed down your sides until they met between your legs. It wasn't exactly what you wanted, but you could grind against the palm of Laia's hand now. "Tell me how much you want me, and I'll give you everything you want."
"Laia, please. I need you so fucking bad," you told her. Laia made you repeat yourself again andd again, just barely giving you more each time you asked. You felt like you were on the verge of crying before you finally felt her push two fingers inside of you.
"You're making such a mess on my lap. I can feel you dripping onto me," Laia said. You believed her, not having felt wet like this in weeks. Laia wasn't normally one to tease, but tonight, she was putting you through it. You knew that it was a punishment for letting her Spanish teammates touch you like that.
You knew that every moment you had to wait while Laia's fingers moved so close to where you wanted them was your fault. It gave you a bit of a rush, being punished like this, but you also hated it. You hated whining and feeling needy like this because you weren't used to it. Laia had never really driven you crazy like this, but you could see that she loved it.
"Cum for me, I can feel that pretty little pussy of yours trying so hard. You don't have to hold back. Stop thinking and just cum, that's all I want. Am I not good enough for you anymore? Do you need Leila for that now?" You didn't want to cum while Laia questioned you about Leila, but that was just how it went. Every rational thought flew from your head as Laia's thumb pressed against your clit. The pressure from that had you spilling out into the palm of her hand. "You're such a fucking dirty girl, but nobody is ever going to know it. That's a secret for me and you."
"Fuck Laia," you swore as you fell against her body. Laia wrapped her arms around you, holding you in a tight embrace. "Only us, just you and me."
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