#damn this woman's charisma

[vulturevanity]

deeply unserious band

[paperclipfanatic]

She gives you the shoulder touch and goes, "Hey."

[invinciblerodent]

I could play. I could play.

I could also just stare at my girl gayly and keep making my digital scrapbook of her excellent, adorable little faces, and honestly what's the difference at this point.

[sun-snatcher]

summ. You and Remy slow dance. It turns into a walk down memory lane. Maybe more? ( an audio imagine, established in #WELUCKYFEW )

IT’S PROBABLY AT YOUR FIFTH yawn that Remy settles he’s had enough of you dozing off.

“Chèr,” he calls. You barely respond. “…Chèr.”

Nothing.

“Chèr— Lord, this woman— Stray!”

You flinch awake, paper scattering. “Jesus, Remy!”

Something rolls at your feet, purple glow fading. “Did you just charge a plastic cup—?!”

“An’ nailed y’at your dome? Oui.” 

“Was the closest thing t’me, an’ you was ‘bout gon’ pass out on that damn table, you,” he snorts, rounding the kitchen island. “Told y’not t’make dodo out here, chèr. That couch can break a back, Remy tellin’ y’now.”  *

“First of all, ow. Second of all, I know.” You rub your face with your palms, try to rub the gossamer of sleep in your eyes. “I’m almost done. These papers aren’t gonna mark themselves, and the students were expecting these yesterday—”

“Chèr,” he interrupts, gently. “Dance w’me.”

You blink, completely diverted by the non sequitur. “…What?”

“Y’heard me.” He’s sauntered over to the record player at the corner, loading in a vinyl with a click and a careful drop of the needle. “Since y’aint wanna sleep, anyway, y’tête dur.”  *

Some melodic Blues album fills the room. Louis Armstrong, you recognise.

The absurdity of it all has you letting out a bewildered laugh. Maybe that cup hit you harder than you thought. 

“These songs alone can put me to sleep— no, Remy, not in that way, before you charge a record at me this time— I mean it’s… it’s a slow song. Kinda defeats the purpose, don’t you think?”

“S’worth a shot,” he shrugs, nonchalant, and your nerves feel like they shrink as he shuffles towards you with a quirk on his lip and that look in his eyes; stubborn resolve. “Come see.” *

He bows with theatrical flair, and catches your hand to hold with cordial permission. “I know ladies like t’be axed properly, so.” 

Remy smiles. “How ‘bout a dance, chèr?”

It works, surprisingly.

Or, perhaps, unsurprisingly, considering this is Remy LeBeau. The Gambit. Le Diable Blanc. His devilish charisma comes naturally; it doesn’t take that long before banter and inanities has you ducking your head to hide your frazzled giggling over your tripping feet and dramatic dance dips and—

“Mais la, your hands are cold cold.” He laughs like it’s been punched out of his gut. “Y’got the frissons, chèr?”  *

“I’m nervous!” You yelp out when he spins you on your heel, and catches you again. 

The next song plays.

It’s one you’ve heard being hummed under Remy’s breath as he moved around the house, absent-mindedly, or whenever he fidgeted his restlessness away with his deck of cards: Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans? 

The melody lulls the both of you into an easy, gentle sway. Remy’s hand rests on the small of your back. The palms of his hand are smooth; warm, like always. It’s comforting.

His mouth ghosts against your temple. You can feel his cheeks raise. “Why?”

“‘Cause I’ve stepped on your feet like, five times, now, Remy.”

“Mais, don’t be honte. S’just me, chèr.”  *

He winks. Bumps his forehead to yours, where you shoot him with a playful eye-roll. Remy considers himself a lucky man that you’d even acquiesced him anyway; relented and let him curl you into his arms, laid your head to rest against his shoulder. 

And then, out of the blue, between the crackle of cantabile trumpets drifting in both of your rundown New York apartment:

“Exactly,” you say, cadence impossibly soft. “It’s you.”

A petal of an admission. Feather-light. You lift your head to meet his gaze.

If it had been any other person he might’ve permitted himself to read it as something romantic.  

…Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans?

And miss it each night and day?

“You miss him.” He exhales as if he’d been disarmed. “When you look at me.”

It’s a statement, not a question. There’s no point in lying. 

You nod near-imperceptibly. Had you spoken, your voice may have failed you.

Something passes in his eyes. When he unravels you into another gentle spin, then back, it’s gone before you get the chance to decipher it. A calculated move, you realise. There’s a gap between the both of you, now.

“Though—” you begin, tentatively. “There are differences, still.”

Rain drums against the window. In the distance, the sky drawls threat of an impending thunderstorm. Remy’s gaze is rapt.

“You can play the guitar,” you say, fond. That had been a discovery on an early Saturday morning— the first night you and Remy had arrived in Wade’s universe and slept over at his place— where you awoke to Remy’s singing and acoustic strum of Footloose, drifting between a breakfast-ruckus rioting in the kitchen.

He’d apparently learned to play during his years in the Void, so he could pass the time.

“Handle your alcohol better, too.” You muse. Probably honed from the Void aswell. “My Gambit was a chainsmoker. But he quit for his three cats. And Rogue.” —Even though I told him years before to quit, you don’t add. It would’ve been pointless anyway.

“Three minous?” An amused laugh. “Huh. I feed 3 strays makin’ a pass to Wade’s sometimes.” *

Multiverse is funny like that. “Some things never change.” 

He huffs out a wry laugh mid-sway. “Mais, s’pose so.” 

“And…” Your eyes flicker to his lips. 

He notices. 

“...My Remy had a scar.” Your hand slides off his bicep, floats up to his face. “It cut deep. Right above here.”

…moonlight on the bayou; a creole tune that fills the air.

You rest a thumb at the edge of his lip.

His heart stifles. 

“Gave it to him in Madripoor,” you recount, distant, and when you meet the questioning look in Remy’s gaze, answer humorously: “Let’s just say we… got off the wrong foot the first time we crossed paths. ”

…dream about magnolias in bloom and I'm wishin' I was there.

Remy barely laughs— too distracted with the nebulous presence of you. His hand on your waist squeezes.

“S’it ever hurt you?” Quiet. Touch soft. An ocean-in-a-seashell murmur. “That I ain’t him?”

…Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans?

“…Yes.”

This time you don’t miss the lightning resignation in his eyes. The thumb he’s pressing at your waist vanishes. He has half the mind to let his hands slip away.

“An’ what ‘bout right now?”

Your head is shaking before you even register it. You move to shift him back close; afraid he’ll pull away before you can answer. “No. All I see is you. Only you.”

…When that's where you left your heart?

The air is tense. The proximity isn’t helping. Was it concession, what you said? His nose grazes yours; he’s watching your lashes fluttering—

He won’t. He won’t kiss you. He can’t. 

It’s a gamble the Gambit can’t bet on. 

Not when his mere existence alone is like pouring salt to an open chasm in your heart; like picking at a scab: wounds fresh, old memories clearly— somehow— even fresher. 

It would be unfair to you. 

Gambit is a gentleman, after all.

And so Remy noses against your cheek. Nudges at your temple and presses his chin at your hairline, tries not to stoke the tumid yen clawing in his chest. Both of you have been dealt a bad hand. If there’d been dismay in your eyes, he didn’t see it.

You feel his lips ghost against your hairline, again. 

His breath is flushed warm. You want to tip-toe and meet him halfway. Taste the burn of whiskey neat on his tongue. Carve yourself an enclave into his heart only you could fit in.

To be surrounded by him. Sheltered. Kept.

But it wouldn’t do. It’d be unfair. To inadvertently use him as a remedy, to look at him and feel like you’re using him as a crutch to your past; 

All because your foolish little heart can’t differentiate what your mind can clearly see— that this Remy isn’t yours.

You duck your head back to his chest. The song croons to a close. 

…And there's one thing more;

I miss the one I care for;

More than I miss New Orleans.

*Cajun footnotes

Make dodo — to go to sleep Tête dur — stubborn/hard-headed Come see — Cajun way of saying "Come here." Frissons — to feel chills Honte — embarrassed Minou — cat Make a pass — to stop by

[beta-therapy]

Why can't betas just "act more alpha?"

We have all seen what it’s like when a woman interacts with a man who she wants. The man brings forth dominance and confidence, which pairs with the woman’s submissiveness and desire like yin and yang. You can easily tell that the two are destined to have sex (which can be thought of as the physical manifestation of these emotions).

A lot of men might witness that and think “Wow, I want a woman to look at me the same way she was looking at him,” then decide to go out and approach a woman in exactly the same way. He would try to carry that same bold, dominant energy he saw earlier.

But instead of responding with submission and desire, the opposite happens. The woman steps back and delivers harsh criticism, like “I don’t give out my number to strangers, so stop acting like you’re entitled to it.”

The attempt at being charming, confident, and forward (traits that make a woman go head over heels for a man) ended up backfiring when a beta tried them, and it made the woman repulsed. Why? Because it’s not possible to “learn” confidence.

Imagine if all the things that women find irresistible about the men they sleep with could simply be learned and implemented by anyone. Imagine if there was a blueprint that anyone could follow on how to seduce women, and the only thing separating alphas and betas is that the alphas followed the blueprint.

Then we would all just follow the blueprint and have a ton of sex! There would no longer be this disparity where sex is abundant for some men and extremely scarce for the rest.

But that disparity—caused by the tendency of females to all flock to a minority of males for sexual reproduction—has been a fundamental characteristic of our species for millions of years. There’s no blueprint that allows one to cheat human nature. A beta cannot put himself into the category of men that women desire by simply mimicking alpha behavior.

You can try to, but you’ll see that any woman will immediately know what you’re doing. Your body language will be slightly off. The expression on your face will be slightly off. The words you’re saying will seem canned and rehearsed. A woman will notice your fake charisma right away, and she will not be one bit attracted to it. Instead of fantasizing about you, she will be figuring out how to end the conversation.

Some men have the ability to bring out the dangerous, adventurous, desirous, and hedonistic spirit in women, thus creating that yin and yang polarity mentioned in the beginning. Most men don’t have that power, and actually have a hard time getting women to have sex with him, if he can at all.

Some naïve advice might be “bro, you just need to flirt more and touch her physically to build sexual tension.” Yeah, good luck with that, especially with a woman who’s just not having it at all. That’s a good way to get her to smack you in face and call the police on you.

Indeed, if you try to tamper with the fabric of Nature, it always will snap back and hit you in the face sooner or later.

Now we see that the question posed in the beginning is answered by a basic law of human nature:

It is not possible for any man to simply “learn” the things that make women sexually aroused, for if these traits could be faked, women would not find them attractive because they would no longer say anything positive about a man’s suitability for genetic propagation.

And to clarify, women don’t consciously think about any of this. But their interest in sexual partners is an unconscious process, and the natural law just put forth is a very strong, useful explanation of this unconscious process in the female mind.

The correctness of the law is obvious. Think about every one of the things women go for: confidence, charisma, money, status, sexual history, social dominance, blah blah blah... None of them can be easily faked, and in particular, faking them all at once is damn near impossible. Each of these things say something deep and substantial about you as a man. They each are like games with winners and losers, and the key point is that a loser can’t fake being a winner. That’s exactly why women find these things so attractive.

[depressiondiaries]

Can't get over construction worker!toji watching you like the pretty little thing you are on your phone hurrying to a meeting trying to open this god damn water bottle you just bought. He's eyeing you up and down with a smirk and then suddenly

"Ma'am"

He points at your bottle "I could help help you out with that"

Awestruck you stare at this man who looked like he was carved by god himself, wife beater on, hair sticking to his forehead and god...his arms, sweaty and filthy with something black all in their muscular glory.

He notices you gawking at him but knows you wouldn't appreciate his teasing, you're not that kind of woman.

"Ma'am?" he smiles even wider at you looking up at his eyes with a blush.

"Hmm? oh yes thank you that would be great!"

You swear at yourself for the too excited enthusiasm in your voice and hand him the water bottle which he opens without a hint of struggle. Was he flexing more than normal or was that your imagination betraying you.

"Thank you.."

"My pleasure"

He tips his head at you with that same smirk and you swear you were about to fall on your knees from this man's oozing manly charisma. Straighting up you smile at him and quickly rush away.

Toji smirks back at his fellow construction buddies who just look at him with disgust, very used to him getting all the women at his feet, the worst part? he wasn't even trying.

"You gotta stop doing that" one of them says with a disgusting but also jealous look on his face

"Doin' what? not my fault pretty girls don't look at y'all"

Groans could be heard from his mates while he laughs and gets back to work but before that he turns around one last time to see you walking away to your office thinking of a way to get to see you again.

[ak319]

Lovesick Rich Gf x Fem gp reader (Headcanon) 🛍️💋

(Warnings: Toxic love, obsessed, implied sexual content, possessive themes, blackmailing,)

Roxi Moores, your girlfriend is the daughter of Altan Moores, owner of the Mooranda hotel chain which is their family-owned business. That's right, their family is half Turkish and half English. Not to forget she is an international model. You, however, were a simple college student who got a job at one of the Hotel branches as a server.

Roxi was one of those people who didn't pay much attention to the people catering to her as she was always used to being pampered. But when you came to take her order dressed in that white dress shirt, with a notepad in your hands, and greeted her and her girlfriends in that cushioned urbane voice, she nearly folded right there. That night is what Roxy now celebrates as your guys' "Love at first sight anniversary" even though it was only one-sided and your ass was so aloof at that time of serving her. You didn't even know until she left that she was the owner's DAUGHTER!

Anyway, Roxi had set her eyes on you and you are damn wrong if you think she doesn't get what she wants. It's not like she lacks anything. She has charisma, looks, and money, though she could tell you were not a person to fall for someone's wealth so she had to work hard. And really hard to get such an attractive, nice woman like you at her feet.

Her alluring blue eyes made you weak in the knees, not to forget her honeyed voice and her luscious caramel brown hair. You began to see her more at the dining and eventually, you responded to her flirting too sometimes but there was this nagging voice at the back of your head reminding you of your status and how it might be so wrong and disastrous to date Altan's only daughter. But she convinced you and convinced you well ♡ by easily luring you into her suite. God, you couldn't believe how you even scored that night just by getting a job there.

Your apprehension about her father's opinion was cleared when she out of the blue once brought him for not more than 5 minutes due to his busy schedule and introduced you. To this day you still wonder how you kept your composure when meeting a billionaire as his daughter's GF and as a lowly SERVER and that too in a WEEK of DATING?! Well to be fair at that point you thought that you were still in a situation-ship but Roxi made no mistake of reminding you that you were her girlfriend.

Then, your relationship with her began and you had no idea how your life would change when looking back on it now.

She was cute, smart, and elegant. You absolutely adore how she is attentive towards you. She listened to your rants about your college dramas and would be like a strict parent if you missed one day of your gym. Yes, she would be MAD if you didn't work out. She is obsessed with your abs and will even put stickers on them or would doodle with her glitter Sharpies giggling after riding you dry while you are laying there still trying to find your ass in the milky way. Not that you minded but now you didn't get to skip the workout and would have to send her a snap as soon as you step into the gym. She is the one who sits on your back like a princess as you do pushups or makes you do them on top of her for practice as she pays you with kisses on each one you do.

She would give you a private catwalk trying to distract you from studying or your game time by trying on the sensual nighties she could get her hands on. Passwords are non-existent between you both and don't you dare remove her picture as your wallpaper. You can only change it to a different picture. She does the same with her phone.

As this was your first serious relationship, you were indulging in the way she made it so magical for you but you were also overwhelmed. Because having a brand customize a couple perfume sets and bracelets only for you both seemed too much to you. Whenever you put forward your complaint of her spending her money on you as it literally made you feel spineless, she would throw tantrums and cry and let it be known that her tantrums are not easy to control. Thank God, you chose to discuss this problem at her house and not yours because your family would have their wits blown away if they witnessed this side of hers instead of the sweet humble chic girlfriend one.

Roxi, your number one supporter will be at your every (fave sport) match at your college, cheering you but she always looked so prim and proper while doing it. You never understood how she did it. When it comes to your attention and the competition, Roxi is gravely calm and it can be quite chilling for you as she is the clingy type. But she is indeed a secure and confident person and she trusts you too. The other girls don't even stand a chance against her so why give a fuck?. But little do you know that if she catches you initiating something ever, your life is going to get W-R-E-C-K-E-D. Thank God you’re loyal—one of the many things she loves about you. So don't ever forget that she is the only girl in your life. The scratches on your back remind you daily anyway. She never lets them heal.

How does she even-aren't her nails oval?! Nevermind.

It was however the other way around. You were the possessive one and she relished in the fact that you didn't like her wearing too revealing clothes not because you were insecure, you just didn't trust other people and the way they might think of her in their minds. Roxi didn't mind one bit as she wanted to be dolled up only for you.

The moment when she first found out you were pursuing a business-related degree, she had already formulated and decided every step of your future and you didn't even know. She was going to make you into a perfect daughter-in-law for her parents, especially her father. She was tired of being spoiled by her dad and wanted the role to be passed on to you now. She had already tested you multiple times and seeing how you gave 0 shits about her money made her more determined every time.

So as soon as you graduated she tried to convince your stubborn hardworking ass to first stop with this part-time job of a server for God's sake but you were persistent and did it alongside a corporate one but not in her dad's company. This enraged her further to her core. She couldn't stand the thought of you licking someone's shoes just to get a few bucks! In her mind, the server job was way better as at least it was her dad paying you and not some other bastard. She really remained patient with you whether it was when you took her on dates or when you gifted her something as she just loathed the fact that it was bought from the extra money that you were earning through your other job. After having enough of this bullshit, one day she just stormed into your office and grasped the attention from every corner. Some recognized her, and some were plain curious to see such a beautiful woman with such a furious look. She barged into your boss's office and demanded them to fire you. You ultimately calmed her down and controlling your own anger, escorted her out.

That was the day you cut it off with her...at least you thought you did. Well, you got fired anyway since your boss found out whose daughter she was and didn't want any trouble. You got texts from her, ranging from apologies to straight-up threats of you not ever getting a job anywhere in the world. At this rate, you had resigned from your serving job because of her and were depressed. Your family instead of supporting you took her side as she had hypnotized them with her sweet and caring nature. They wanted you to just accept the job at Mooranda International. And you did that eventually when her father came to your doorstep and took you to his company and hired you as his executive assistant which was such a big role for you.

You started your job and honestly, it felt robotic. Your soul wasn't in it and how can you forget the way it was handed to you, in a literal gold platter but make it a platter full of thorns and spikes that you just had to accept no matter what.

As far as Roxi is concerned, she visited you in the office as if nothing had changed between you two and soon you realized that you were trapped in this situation both by her and her father and could only act as if nothing had occurred. She re-entered your life and things slowly returned back to normal, and if you consider getting a mansion, luxurious cars and access to a private jet normal, then yes. Everything is normal.

You both live together now and Roxi finally got what she wanted. Making you spoil her every day by demanding things left and right. She fantasized about waking up every day and seeing you get ready to go work with her father and it was finally true!. Every morning she would make sure the maids got breakfast perfectly cooked to your liking and the favourite part of hers was to see you off with a kiss. After that either she went for shoots or just spoiled herself to look pretty for you when you came back.

Her father on the other hand made sure to be ten times harder on you than other employees to make sure you are ready to one day take his position and be a good wife to his lovely daughter. Despite his reservation of having his daughter date a server from his own hotel, he had taken a liking to you. He still remembered her tears when you both temporarily broke up and he sure as hell is not letting his baby cry again over your ass. After all, his dearest daughter always gets what she desires.

Speaking of desires, Roxy is insatiable when it comes to you. Now more than ever since you look so fucking sexy wearing suits and dress shirts. The way you drive the latest Bugatti La Voiture Noire with those hands of yours, one of which always has to be on her thigh or she's jumping out. She puts on the playlists she makes for you. It is so hot to see you be so serious and focused on driving and even working when she is all over you. Knowing that at the end of the day, you will fuck her anyway.

She never fails to blush when you serve her sometimes as it reminds her of the first time she met you. Her shyness and that dreamy look in her eyes make you serve her more often than ever that now it has become a habit at dinner time.

Don't for a second dare to think that you can wear white and not have her clinging to you to put a lipstick stain on various parts of your shirt. Seeing you embarrassed makes her giddy but she still doesn't let you clean them and instead makes you wear a coat.

Roxi really wants to sometimes make those adorable Tiktoks of relationship aesthetic but she knows you are not a fan of showing off and she kind of agrees with this notion as she doesn't want anyone's evil eye to befell upon your relationship. So instead she just makes such videos for her private account and posts some of yours in which either your back is facing her from the balcony as you're enjoying your (tea/coffee) or you're holding a bouquet for her, your face covered by the flowers. Such media in which the relationship is not that OTT. She loses herself in the attention you get online when people are curious about you, thirsting over you or whether it's her own friends congratulating her on catching such a fine specimen as you. The fact that nobody can steal you away from her no matter how much they try, always makes her day.

Now, her plan is to be your wife. She is just waiting for the day you pop the question. But she knows you are going to make it special so she can wait. She will wait. But it is so unfair that she has to. She has never waited for anything in her life and now, for the thing she wants the most, she has to. She could propose to you but she doesn't want it that way! She wants you on your knees for her. She is your everything, isn't she? And it's not like she doesn't have other plans on standby if you show no signs of wifing her up...

She had a previously failed engagement with a gold digger douchebag that her father chose for her and it was vile. She is not going to be treated like that ever again and you have proved yourself to be worthy of her and treated her better than her ex-fiance whom you hated too just by hearing about him treating your princess like shit. So she knows you love her beyond words at this point.

A snippet🤍

"Why didn't you respond to my texts?! You knew we had a golf date planned!". Your ears were not prepared for that shriek after the hectic day you had.

"Baby-I said sorry and can you-"

"NO! You are not going to work tomorrow and we are spending all day together. You hear me?! Don't you dare ignore my texts again!" She dug her nails on your shoulders.

She was currently on your lap in the tight golf outfit she wore specifically for you. How did she even think you would take her out in the skirt she’s wearing? She is indeed playing right now. But she couldn't stop teasing you with the way she moved on your lap and you knew she was doing it to make you more pissed.

"That's it." You carried her over your shoulder and onto the bed and Roxi couldn't be more happier. Good thing that she had already thrown away the condom packet.

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Hi I'm back. How are you?

How about... A yandere that has had a bunch of lovers and either killed them because he got bored or broke their heart beyond repair? But them he meets the reader and something changes?

Idk it seems like a fun dea.

Yandere! Male! Player x gn! Barista! Reader

Uh ohz, here is the player 🙄 there's a little twist to the request, meowing! I hope you don't mind. (Another Greek mythos twist. Not as blatant as Hades though. Only a bit of the Greek mythos is grabbed, not all.)

I'll see to it how can we break this little man

ヘ(￣ω￣ヘ)

AND, I AM GOING TO STOP TAKING NEW YANDERE REQUESTS! But, I am going to take asks about the existing yanderes now!

Yandere! Player name: Amor

A resounding slap echoed throughout the bustling cafe, silencing the people talking to each other. The woman, tear stricken and angry, looked at the man in front of her.

"We're over!" She yelled before stomping away from the cafe, leaving the man behind.

The people started to gossip amongst each other, but one particular action by the man stunned them.

He just sat down, took out his phone, and called somebody.

"Hey, fancy meeting tonight? I just know of this nice cafe. Date, my treat."

Shameless, the people thought as he chuckled and ended the call with a lazy smirk, stirring his coffee and sipping it.

Amor. Extremely handsome man. Charming, always knew how to get the ladies.

That's what made him full of shit since being handsome is his only redeeming quality.

He's arrogant, a bastard, selfish, has a pride taller than the Eiffel tower, and a total player.

He juggles women left and right, flavor of the day, who's gonna be my girl for the morning, afternoon, and night?

Why do people flock to this man again?

Ah, because the Gods favor this bitch.

What did he do in his past life that women love this man?

Well, in his past life, he's a boring nerd.

His family loved him dearly, and wanted him to succeed in life.

So, attending academic camps, prestigious schools, goddamn Kumon? He got it all.

Awards, upon awards. He collects them like pokemon.

Did it make him interesting?

No. All he knew is academics, and no outside skill.

He's book smart, not street smart.

Poor guy wasn't even attractive. So, when he finished University in an Ivy League Uni, he's lost. He doesn't have charisma to charm employers, he doesn't have the confidence to do public work...

Well, that, and NASA already hired him.

What? He is not street smart and has a hard time finding a job himself, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have connections.

In short, he's a Nepo baby.

At least he's a genius so NASA made sure to use him thoroughly.

But, he felt... Bored.

He wanted more from this life of his.

He wanted a girlfriend for fuck's sake!

So, by some stupid and desperation he himself never thought of doing, he turned to the old gods.

The old Gods, surprised by a sudden influx of eager and desperation of faith from only one man, decided to entertain them.

"PLEASE! WHEN I DIE, MAKE ME EXTREMELY HANDSOME AND HAVE WOMEN LEFT AND RIGHT!"

Oh... That's not...

He's really superficial....

Did the Gods care though? Nah. He's really entertaining. Awakening old Gods just for... Women?

So they granted his wish.

When he died of old age (unfortunately for him.), He woke up to another wealthy and loving family. But this time, he's the son of a world renowned Kpop idol, and a Miss Universe.

"This is overkill." Amor thought to himself as his mother cradled her. "But damn, ain't I happy!"

Growing up, even as a kid, girls liked him. He felt like on the top of the world. He retained his memory, so he's practically a gifted child. No, perfect child even!

Except that he's actually a foul kid.

He became arrogant, a snob. Someone who viewed himself too highly for people.

But do his parents care?

Eh...

They spoil the kid a lot. And turn a blind eye to his lack in manners.

Again, went to prestigious Universities, to Kumon, academic camps.

Everything was a breeze for him now.

He got a job as a model immediately. He decided to not go down the academic path, but use his parents' connections once more to climb up the showbiz ladder!

He's still a Nepo baby in this life.

Well, again, his handsomeness is almost too good to be true (work of the goddess of beauty), so his model career is skyrocketing in success.

And women.

Countless of them.

He cycles through them like toilet paper. Throwing them away once he's got his fill.

Yet, people don't care.

He somehow built a reputation off of being a player. When people say that "he broke somebody's heart again!"

"Eh, what did you expect from being in a relationship with Amor?" They would say with a shake of their head and a smile.

That's how much the Gods intervened with his life.

Once he sets his eyes on someone, he 100% would get them.

Unless....

"Tsk. Where can I go now..."

Amor paced around the street, turning heads left and right as this man sculpted by the gods had a worried look on his face.

The cafe he frequents closed down, now he needs a new place to take his women to dates to.

He's about to get his phone when a flyer hit him directly on his face. With an irritated glower, he grabbed the flyer.

"ow! What the f... Oh?"

He stopped, seeing the content.

"new cafe open?"

It looks like a generic cafe. But what was interesting was that the cafe is located in an indoor garden. Like a greenhouse.

"This is interesting. Women love flowers, don't they? And a garden of all places!" He laughs, making the gods stir from the sudden new cafe they got.

They all fuzzed, saying that this would be a good place. But, the goddess of Beauty stirred. Saying she got a bad feeling about this.

"relax, nothing will happen."

And when he got inside the cafe, he immediately got shocked by the barista, you.

Has there ever been an ethereal beauty like you? Someone... Someone who rivals even the goddess of beauty herself?!

The goddess stirred again, shackles raised. She never made you, so why are you this attractive?

Then, the goddess whispered on his ear.

It's to make you fall in love with a monster. Someone ugly, a beast... Anything to get your status down! Nobody can be as beautiful as her!

Envy filled the goddess as she gave Amor arrows to hit you with.

Now, assigned with the task of making you fall in love with what the goddess call a 'monster', he sets off to your house in the middle of the night. With the help of the other Gods, he became invisible and flew on to your balcony.

With a creak, your balcony doors opened. Making him shimmy inside through the small crack.

Yet, fate tempted him as the moonlight hit your form. In a vulnerable state, your androgynous beauty is amplified. Your long eyelashes, your skin... Your figure...

Truly, your beauty rivaled the goddess. No, you were more beautiful than her.

His throat dried, eyes glazed over.

Gods, are they tempting him?

It would be a waste for you to fall in love with an ugly guy.

His fingers twitched, trying to grab the arrow.

"OW!"

He seethed, doubling over as he clutched his finger. It got pricked by the arrow.

He somehow forgot a crucial information.

'whoever the first person the pricked sees if the arrows only pricked one, they will fall in love with the first person they sees.'

And, as his eyes irritably looked at you, overwhelming love filled inside him as he gasped in the sudden influx of emotions.

He kneeled down, eyes wide.

He's rigid. All he could see is your form. Lovely and so bright.

And hid eyes softened. A dull light in it as his lips twitched into a lovesick smile.

He was already attracted to you before, and now, pricked by the arrows, he's utterly obsessed with you.

With a twitch of his hand once more, he grabbed the arrow and stabbed himself fully to the thigh.

"GAGH!"

He doubled over, gasping, twitching for air as his heart pulsed through his ears. His eyes frantically finding your sleeping form before letting out a shaky moan from the satisfaction.

It was like a drug. Everytime he sees you, he gets overwhelmed with feelings of affection.

Is this what love is about?

And before he knows it, the arrows are all used up.

It was morbid, seeing this man stabbed with so many arrows.

But his face says otherwise. Like a drugged up man, overdosed on ecstacy, he was in a drooling trance from the addictive feeling of love for you.

The arrow is effective enough by one arrow, and now this?

Well, let's just say...

"I count, right?" He shakily asked the gods. "I'm a monster, somebody who breaks women's heart left and right."

He trembled, standing up.

He walked over to you, legs unsteady as he dropped to his knees once more and planted his lips on your own.

It tasted, you tasted so sweet, divine upon his lips.

He wants more, but he can't risk waking you up.

"Goodbye, my love. See you tomorrow." Amor whispered, grabbing your hand and dragging his nose on your skin and inhaling your scent. Exhaling shakily, he stood up and flew away.

Let's say, the goddess of Beauty was really angry at him.

But her condition, a 'monster', fits him. So, what can she do?

She gritted her teeth and looked at him with hatred, yet complacency.

You're so pretty, it hurts.

"Welcome to the Psyche cafe! How may I help you-- oh hello, sir Amor! The usual?"

Amor slowly nodded, clearing his throat.

"yes. The usual."

It's been weeks since then. And he made sure to make himself a regular in the cafe. He stopped going on dates, and pulled a lot of strings to somehow burry the player accusations. He knows he can't really burry it all.

So he made (threatened) the women he dated to be positive about him.

He wants to fly on your radar, spot on the middle, so bad.

So, with the invisibility power he got from the Gods, he always followed you. Even up to your home.

At first, his heart pounded like crazy. What if he suddenly appeared? Will you be freaked out? Surprised? Will you run away--

No, you can't run away.

Like you can, anyways.

He knew of your favorite food, fashion sense, hell, your taste in men...

He slowly changed himself into the man of your dreams.

Like a persona he integrated into himself, this sudden change shocked the people. But, they welcomed this change.

"Is he in love, that's why he's changing?"

More than that.

He's making himself into the perfect boyfriend for you.

Now, all he needs is you!

"Here's your coffee, sir!" You greeted with a sweet smile that he swore he had to grab his soul from leaving his body. "Enjoy!"

He gently grabbed the coffee and as usual, gave you 200$.

"sir..." You grimaced.

"Please, just accept it." He smiles. "You've always been a pleasant person to talk to, y/n. So, just see it as a generous tip. That I frequently give."

You looked down at the bill and smiled. Warmness spreads through your chest.

"thank you s--"

You looked up, and froze from the look he's giving you.

Deep, crazed...

Obsessed.

You shivered in fear.

Sensing your eyes on him, he coughed loudly, averting his eyes before returning to the man you knew.

Or did you actually know him?

You don't even know anymore.

But hey, he gives huge tips.

"Thanks again for the coffee." Amor smiles, trying to sweep what happened under the rug as he waved at you.

He went to his usual table. Somewhere secluded, yet has a clear view of you surrounded by flowers.

He observes you. Plans on what to do next.

He knew he can't just waltz in and whisk you away. That's barbaric.

But he's not opposed to the idea though...

He smirks.

He can probably pull tons of strings for you to end up in his arms.

He loves you, don't mistake that.

But, a little bit of... Force would be good.

He's an impatient man.

Also, did he mention that he's a selfish asshole?

How about, making your life so miserable. Getting you kicked out of this cafe, your family suddenly getting a huge debt...

Something he knows you can't pay immediately.

And his family would coincidentally sponsor you by giving you a condition of marrying him!

Anything to be with you, really.

Or, just steal another arrow and hit it with you. That's also plausible.

But, the goddess is pissed with him. So that's the last resort.

He sips his coffee and crosses his long legs.

He's favored by the Gods anyways.

His eyes narrowed slightly as you interacted too amicably with your coworker. An obvious blush on the coworker's face as he got too touchy with you.

No, everyone in the cafe is enamoured with you. Your beauty too good for this world.

He gripped the handle of his cup.

But first, let's get rid of potential rivals, yes?

You are only his.

What is there to fear? He has the resources in his hands to make you his.

You didn't know yet, but your fate is already sealed, tied, and shackled to him.

You don't really have a choice.

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 5

Propaganda

Glenn Close (Dungeons & Daddies):

#Propaganda for Glenn Close: one of the other PCs mentions multiple times how hot he is #Actually several characters point it out but especially Henry #Also the only person in a podcast that has to put a disclaimer about not being a BDSM podcast to have had sex during the course of the show

Young hot rocker dilf

Loyal to his dead wife <3

Does in fact smoke weed

BARD!! HES A BARD. HE WAS LEAD GUITAR IN HIS BAND (that he was kicked out of)

His band was a Christmas cover band btw.

Literally the fandom had hot Glenn summer which consisted of drawing him being incredibly hot and sexy

Anti government (ofc)

Kind of cringefail (Disney adult) (was on dilfs of disneyland)

Young and sexy not your style? Then how about HIM AFTER YEARS LOCKED IN A TIME PRISON WITH A DAMN HANNIBAL MASK ??

Lost an eye and wears a fucking eyepatch

One incredibly buff arm

Has a pet rat named after his son <3

Immeasurable amounts of trauma in this man- becomes progressively more unhinged

OH OLD HUMAN BARD ISNT CUTTING IT? FINE

HE BECOMES A FUCKING DEMON

A COOL HOT ONE-EYED DEMON WHO WANTS TO KILL HIS DAD (also sexy)

HE CANONICALLY ENDS CHRISTIAN HELL VIA CHRISTMAS

IS ALSO WAY OVERLEVELED

Becomes a demon hunter for the rest of his existence

Also nonwhite !!! We are done with cringefail whiteboys !!!!!!!!!

I can’t put into words ok just know he is the best plz love him.

Okay but Glenn made a minivan cum by talking to her so

HE HAS A BOOK THAT HE MARKS X’S AND CHECKS FOR EVERY DAY TO SEE IF THAT DAY WAS A SUCCESS OR NOT. TO SEE IF HE DID GOOD THAT DAY. ITS ALMOST ENTIRELY X’S. HE WAS CUCKED OUT OF A SON. AND A DEAD WIFE. HE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO KILL HIS DAD IN REVENGE. There’s absolutely nothing going for him except his sex appeal in his life. Nobody he loved remembers him. He lost his eye. All he has is a pet rat and friends who admit they don’t really like him that much. He was kicked out of his own band. The band was named after him. He was kicked out of the Glenn Close trio. All he could do was deez nuts the big bad and be sexy. If nothing else, then pity him. Look in his eyes. Look at his heart and soul. He did not do the BDSM episode for this I’ll tell you what. Do this for my his sake. Do it for Nick Jr, who needs the prize money to pay for his rat snacks. Do it for his son. For Morgan. Ganbatte.

Glenn is the goofiest sexiest character there is and I will die on this hill! I will ride into battle for him! what Dndads created is truly unique and Glenn is a key part of that and for that he deserves to win. I said it before and I'll say it again - GLENN SWEEEEEP

Can we talk about how he says ‘baby’ casually? Like he just calls people that?? That’s HOT. THAT IS HOT!! He’s also bilingual and knows Japanese!!!! He’s a big dumb idiot with a lot of charisma!!!!!! HE WORKED AT A BDSM PLACE FOR TWO SEPARATE ONE SHOTS. HES SO SAD BUT PLAYS IT OFF LIKE HE’S CHILL ALL THE TIME!! HE DOESN’T THINK OF HIMSELF AS SINGLE BECAUSE HE DIDN’T DIVORCE HIS DEAD WIFE!!! He’s like.. the perfect guy. We need this win.

I’d also like to add the fact I made this. Which is the first 11 episodes edited to (almost) only have Glenn in them <3 which is a level of insanity I hope to reiterate. These took hours to make. I wouldn’t do that for anyone else.

Mod Note: While I will still take "bad dads are sexy" propaganda and "bad dads aren't sexy" anti-propaganda, I kindly request no more discussion on whether or not he was a bad father. This is a sexypoll, not a parentingpoll. If you see a post you strongly disagree with, you can just not reblog it.

Mod Note 2: This tournament is about fictional podcast characters. Please do not vote for the real actress Glenn Close.

Amber Gris (The Adventure Zone: Ethersea):

Middle aged woman who punches sharks to death. My hero

If you love me you'll vote for amber gris I swear to everything holy on earth amen

Amber is butch, instant win

Amber Gris has a negative charisma modifier and she pissed her pants on purpose in order to trick a guard and knock him out. She tied up a dude. She once killed an evil magic shark (they're out for murder. not like real sharks) by punching it and then picked it up and smashed it into another shark, also killing it. She talks in a southern accent. She calls people guppy because it indicates a lack of respect. She has a big pair of magical green arms that come from her stomach. She got a fancy jacket and immediately ripped its sleeves off. She has a gay thing going on with one of the political leaders in the city. She gets in fights with people and doesnt do vulnerability and tries to lay low and not get in any social trouble she doesn't have to. She jumped through a portal into a new world because she could. She's now the god of said world, alone with only afformentioned political leader, who was previously possessed and she had to fight. She spends her time in a bar called the Cloaca. She calls people she doesn't like claspers, because it means shark penis. She and her friend, an old man named Uncle Joshy, sneak attack each other and yell VIBE CHECK! She tries to talk fancy to impress people and she's really bad at it (verily).

She’s everything and more. She’s irreverent. She punches sharks for a living. She becomes God. What more do you need in a butch.

amber gris propaganda: she is straightup the physical embodiment of "women want me, fish fear me." also she's an appalachian post apocalyptic sea captain. that's just objectively cool.

AMBER GRIS IS PUNCHES SHARKS AND IS (one of) THE MOST BADASS BLACK WOMEN PCS IN DND SHOWS IVE EVER SEEN. SHES INCREDIBLE AND A WIN FOR DYKES EVERYWHERE

amber's creator said she was based off of the type of working-class woman you commonly see in appalachia where "this is the sort of woman that you see walking past CVS, and you know that a truck could hit her and it would just split around her as she continued to go pick up whatever she had to do that day." and that's pretty hot

guys Amber becomes lesbian god of the new world with her childhood “”friend””

#amber gris is LITERALLY a middle-aged butch #she would win this entire tournament in a just world

Last time Amber got horny was when she killed that shark

"it was a savage bummer though, don't-- trust me, there's nothing that great about a history. You know? I got one. What did I do, killed a bunch of sharks? Last time I got horny, god and christ I can't even tell you-- well, it was when I killed that shark. But! Hey. We're all just kinda figuring it out."

Moonshine Cybin (Not Another D&D Podcast: Bahumia):

She's a hot elf with mushrooms growing on her. She has 1 level of barbarian. She's bisexual. She shapeshifted into a dragon and ate a god.

how tf does the post not mention Moonshine’s giant boobs her greatest asset

Moonshine has canonically gone down on a woman for a solid hour without asking for anything in return. Moonshine edged a dryad just by kissing them. Moonshine faced down someone being controlled to kill everyone in his path and told him if he still wanted to hurt her, she would take his blows as a friend. Moonshine makes jambalaya for her family and friends. Moonshine mispronounced someone’s name for a month and that woman still wanted to hook up with Moonshine. These are just a few of the reasons why Moonshine is sexy.

shes illiterate

canonically huffs dirty water from a bong

has big tatas

wears a belly chain with a demon trapped in it

almost became the queen of hell

ate a god

turned into a pregnant moose & gave birth

The woman she went down on for an hour asking nothing in return is still hung up on her, 200 years later. Moonshine is unmatched

To be clear the woman whose name Moonshine mispronounced for a month and then hooked up with is the same woman she went down on for an hour, and the same woman who is still flustered over her 200 years later. The rizz is unparalleled. She’s also incredibly kind and accepting of others, and goes out of her way to bolster her friends. The party always requests one big bed.

moonshine cybin is a druid who learned counterspell through sheer force of will. moonshine cybin turned one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse into a dolphin, flew him 60 feet up into the air, dropped him on the ground, and then spit spores into his face to kill him. moonshine cybin turned into a dragon and bit the head off of a double god. moonshine cybin was willing to confine herself to an eternal hell to save the world. moonshine cybin is a dragon rider. you know what you must do.

Amber and Moonshine Together

Look at them. They should not have to fight when they could be gay instead. Imagine the power they would have combined... Every lesbian in a hundred mile radius of the post would swoon. It may be an odd alliance, but from an Ethersea fan to Bahumia fans, i believe this will strengthen both our odds. I have always been insane about Amber Gris but through this poll I have also learned about Moonshine and come to love her too. Take my hand... We can do this together...

OKAY HEAR ME OUT MOONSHINE AND AMBER WOULD GET ALONG SO WELL

appalachian sapphic solidarity!

Art of Amber and Moonshine from @pirateknight.

[blackleatherjacketz]

Give In

Klaus Mikaelson x Female Reader

Summary: Klaus shows up out of the blue to remind you who you belong to.

Warnings: Mature Content, Mild Violence, Alcohol, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Klaus and his Mouth

Word Count: 1.4k+

Raucous voices from the drunken patrons on the patio echo against the vastness of the parking lot as you walk away from the crowd, having had enough of the holiday scene inside. Hand in hand with someone you’d only just met an hour before, you make your way out to your car until a feeling of dread suddenly washes over you. Unsure if it’s from all the green beer that you know you shouldn’t have drunk, the sensation intensifies as you get closer, tugging at your insides and prickling the fine hair on the backs of your arms with each step you take. You hear a heavy thud and a light moan, the alcohol dulling your senses just enough to keep you on your path as you turn toward where you had parked your car before you finally see him.

What the hell is he doing here?

“A local pub on St. Patrick’s Day? That’s very unlike you, now is it, darling?” Klaus licks the fresh blood off his lips as he approaches you and your guest, his hazel eyes aglow with a mixture of hunger and satisfaction before returning back to their natural hue. The limp body of the poor woman he had drained dry is just barely visible beneath the undercarriage of a Jeep as you attempt to take in your surroundings, damning the extra shot you took at the bar before walking outside with the man who had bought it for you.

“Who the hell is this guy? You know him?” Your new friend looks over at you, oblivious to the danger he’s in as a jealous shade of pink paints his cheeks.

“Klaus,” is all you can say as he steps closer, that all too familiar blend of fear and excitement tingling its way through your spine as if it’s your very first time seeing him.

It’s as if he’s capable of infecting the air around him with his mere presence, drawing out an innate response from your body every single time. You wish that you could blame it on compulsion, that you could somehow pass the buck onto his supernatural powers, but you both know he’s never had to use any of them on you before. You hate yourself for how weak you are for him, hate how your body instantly reacts to the mere sound of his voice or the glint in his eye like a dog in some sort of sick Pavlovian response. He could take whatever he wanted from you at any time he pleased, and you’d thank him for it.

And he knew that.

“The real question is… who the hell are you?” Klaus focuses his attention on your potential new bedfellow as he closes the gap between them, ignoring you for the moment as his fists find their way into the thin fabric of his novelty green t-shirt. With very little effort, he twists his grip on it, lifting the young man high into the air before staring menacingly into his eyes. “Well?”

“Alex.” He answers immediately, his voice shaking in sobering trepidation.

“And just how long have you been seeing my little witch, Alex?” His eyes darken as he compels the young man to tell him the truth, his dark tone just as threatening as it is curious.

“Witch? We just met tonight, I swear!” He lifts his hands up in surrender, not even bothering to look back at you for confirmation.

“You swear, hmmm?” He laughs to himself, that subtle amused chuckle rumbling in his chest before turning into a low growl, catching in his throat. “And just what were your intentions in bringing her out here like this, huh? Were you hoping to fuck her?”

“Klaus!” You scold in protest and take a step toward them, stopping only as he shoots you a deadly glare.

“Y…yes!” Alex admits freely, all the confidence and charisma he’d shown you inside disappearing in an instant.

“Good.” A sly grin slowly creeps across Klaus’ lips as Alex divulges his obvious intentions with you, fear trembling through his entire body and into his fingertips as they tremor sporadically. “She is rather tempting, isn’t she?”

Alex only whimpers in response, too afraid to say the wrong thing.

“You’re a bit young for her, don’t you think?” He grabs hold of his jaw and squeezes, turning his face from side to side to get a better look at his youthful features as he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“I didn’t care about that.” Alex cries.

“No, I know. ‘Age is nothing but a number’ and all that, but she needs someone older, someone with experience who can take care of her, someone who can really give her what she needs... Do you think you’re that someone, Alex?” He raises an eyebrow as his grip on his chin tightens, making sure to cut the inside of his cheeks against his molars.

“No,” he can barely whisper at this point.

“Good boy, now why don’t you go back inside, have another drink and forget that you ever met her; forget all of this?” He brings him down closer to his face, their noses mere inches apart as his voice lightens just the slightest bit. “Now run along back inside and find someone your own age, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Alex mutters with a nod, scurrying off the second Klaus lowers him down and releases him from his grasp.

“Nose ring really does it for you, huh, love?” Klaus finally addresses you as Alex’s hurried footsteps fade off in the distance. “I didn’t take him as your type.”

“What are you doing here?” You fold your arms across your chest to put some distance between you, as if that will somehow help protect you from his deadly charms. “I thought you’d left town.”

“Well, now I’m back.” His tone shifts completely, his voice now like slowly melted caramel, dripping with the confidence you swear he was born with as it warms every inch of you, those perfect lips of his curling into a knowing smirk. “I thought you’d be happier to see me.”

“And I thought you would have at least called,” you counter coldly.

“Oh, you always fight me tooth and nail don’t you, darling?” He laughs to himself as he slowly saunters toward you. “Always trying to convince yourself that you don’t want me, that you don’t need me.” His hypnotic gaze grazes over your resistant frame before he gently brushes his knuckles against your cheek. “That you don’t belong to me.”

“Belong to you?” Your lips part as your heart begins to race beneath your nearly heaving chest, pumping your cheeks full of blood as the effect he has on you grows more urgent than you care to admit. “I don’t…”

“Shhh…” He stops you before you can finish your thought, grabbing hold of your chin and lifting it to face him. “Let’s drop the charade, shall we?” He takes his time to take in your features, his nearly blown out pupils dilating even more as they linger on your parting lips.

“Mmm hmm,” you try to answer as his intoxicating scent surrounds you, the sweet smell of cinnamon coated with smoky notes of bergamot flooding your senses.

It’s all over now.

“You’re my little witch… not his, not anyone else’s… mine,” he growls. His hand moves from your chin down to your throat, squeezing gently as he ghosts the promise of a kiss while opening his mouth against yours. He stares at you as his tongue languidly traces the outline of your lips just long enough to stifle your breath. “Right? Show me you understand.”

Your lips quiver as they glisten in his spit before you lean forward just enough to lick his in return, slowly savoring the hints of iron and salt until you can’t help but kiss him completely. You breathe him in, forgetting about how long it’s been since you’ve last touched him as he embraces the kiss with an unmatched fervor. You gasp as he presses his hips into yours, nearly knocking the wind out of you as a satisfied groan vibrates in his chest. You moan into his mouth as he clumsily backs you up against the nearest car as you try to catch your breath, that moisture already collecting between your thighs.

“That’s it, love,” he whispers, pressing those pouty lips of his against your chin and jawline as his other hand starts unbuttoning your jeans. “Give in to me like you always fucking do.”

----------

Read more KLAUS!

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 10 - Lead Me To The Ark

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: Silly fact: Our 100,000th word is "fucking". Quite apt, in my humble opinion. Enjoy! Chapter Title is from Ghost in the Machine by SZA (ft. Phoebe Bridgers)

Word Count: 19.6k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Nine Days. Usual warnings

Read on A03!

Chapter 9 - Chapter 11

Ben’s life had never lacked in beauty. Starting in a childhood marked by well-kept gardens and polished floors that held shiny, uptight parties, before moving to pretty girls in his youth, falling for the tricks and charms he’d learned to wield like weapons to keep their beauty near him. Eventually pretty girls changed to beautiful women, women who knew his tricks but didn’t care as long as they got what they wanted. Soldier Boy. After that, charisma, wit, and flirtation became secondary, for Soldier Boy was the weapon and there was no longer need for clever formalities to keep beauty in his life. Every beautiful thing was his, all he had to do was be Soldier Boy. Ben himself was secondary, because nobody gave a shit about Ben. It was Soldier Boy that was given beauty, and so Soldier Boy draped his life in flowers, art, women, and everything else that dared to glitter like gold.

All that beauty, from crystal to silk to marble, seemed to be pale and faded in comparison to Her. It was fucking frightening, how it suddenly became so clear that everything, every fucking thing, wasn’t even competing. Ben had climbed down the stairs as she’d snarked about his long showers, responded with his own mocking words, and then completely fucking forgotten how to breathe. She’d turn around—giving Ben a taunt he didn’t hear—and suddenly everything was just Her. Perfect, still perfect, always perfect, in a way that felt solid. Permanent and beautiful in a way that shouldn’t be earned, couldn’t be earned. That knowing didn’t stop the Thing, though. From needing to earn it. It had become impossible to keep The Things restrained, because Ben had no will to restrain it. It had told him to touch Her and hold her, so he had and refused to let go. Even when he’d gotten drugs—an opportunity that had become far too fucking rare to turn down—he’d kept some part of him against Her. When Starlight had asked Her to dance, Ben had told her to go, half because he was pretty sure Starlight might’ve started crying like a damn baby if She hadn’t, and half because fuck the Thing wanted to see Her dance. See Her with that loose happiness he’d imagined she had before Homelander.

He hadn’t been disappointed. She’d vanished into the smoke and light with Starlight for just long enough that Ben had almost stood to follow them—the Thing itching to know where She was, if she was safe—only to reappear just before he’d been about to rise from the booth. Dancing, with stupid, joyful fucking smiles and moving with the music in a way that made the Thing feral.

Ben didn’t notice the sickeningly sweet woman who’d given him the boob-drugs slide into the booth until she was right at his side.

“Where’d your pretty little bitch go, handsome?” Boob-drugs’ voice had been a low, seductive whisper in Ben’s ear, and the Thing had felt bloody at the honey-like venom of her words, the way they drawled and choked the air around him.

Ben should have given Boob-drugs want she wanted. It had been far too long since Ben had gotten his dick wet, since he’d properly fucked something that wasn’t his hand or those stupid fucking “fleshlights” She’d gotten him. She’d joked once about him destroying them in a matter of minutes, and Ben had decided only a few weeks later that She never needed to know how correct She’d been. Ben should’ve leaned into Boob-drugs, touched her like the fucking man he was, flirted with her until he was deep in her cunt on a bathroom counter. But when Boob-drugs had traced fingers up his arm and offered him sultry words, the only feeling he got was something cold crawling across his skin. The Thing not only didn’t feel satiated, but had curled up in revolt. It felt disgusting, and Ben couldn’t even fully focus on the coke as the woman had tried to pull his strings.

At some point he’d lost Her on the dance floor, and any stupid semblance of goddamn manners or entertaining Boob-drugs had been thrown out the window. He’d stood and walked away as Boob-Drugs was mid-sentence, and didn’t bother to look back. Ben had searched for Her for long, painful minutes, and finally spotted her as she moved through the crowd, a lost look on her face.

They needed to leave, Ben had decided, because the happiness had drained from Her face and the fatigued emptiness was beginning to creep back in. The moment he’d pulled Her into the night air—wind moving her hair and streetlights making her glow—exhaustion had begun to cloud her eyes quickly, and Ben had smiled to himself as She passed out at his side. She had held herself to him tightly in her sleep, from the car, to the house, and well into the night. At one point She’d started thrashing in the bed and Ben had almost woken her up—unsure if it was a nightmare or simply restlessness—but no fire had leaked from Her body, and no sounds of pain had left her mouth, so he’d pulled Her into him and fallen asleep with Her curled at his side.

When She’d left the bed in the morning, he’d found it impossible to fall asleep again. The Thing had grown cold, and Ben could hear Her heartbeat down the stairs, hear it stutter before it began to push to rapid pace. He’d followed it down to living room, almost thankful for the fucking excuse. He’d watched the smoke rising from Her body, heard the fucking hollowness in her voice as she spoke, and seen red. Then She’d broken in front of him one more goddamn time, fallen asleep with her head to his chest, and—though it was hardly afternoon—laid them down on Her bed and slept at her side.

She was awake when his eyes opened. Watching him in silence, lying on her side, heartbeat even and soft.

“Hi.” She whispered, and a small smile played on her mouth.

“Hi.” Ben’s voice was a rough croak, and Her smile grew. “What fucking-“

“5pm.”

He frowned. “We slept the whole goddamn day?”

She tensed, looking away from him. “Most of it, yeah.” The gnawing of her lip began. “I’m-“

“If you say ‘I’m sorry’, I’ll fucking kill you.”

 “I wasn’t going to.” She mumbled, and Ben rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t.”

“Sure, and I’m the fucking President.”

 She glared at him. “I was going to say that I’m hungry.”

“Then go eat,” Ben shrugged, even as the Thing began to protest at the thought of Her leaving. “You don’t need to fucking wait for me to do that.” 

“It’s my turn to heat dinner.” She rolled onto her back, facing the ceiling with a huff. “I need to know what you want.”

Ben laughed. “I don’t give a shit, Sunshine. Food is food.”

 “You say that now,” She turned her head to look at him, a incredibly fucking dramatic look on Her face. “But I would’ve made the one thing you didn’t want and you’d have thrown a hissy fit.” 

“I don’t throw ‘hissy fits’.”

“Fine, temper tantrum.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he grunted, hauling himself to a sitting position. “I don’t throw hissy fits or temper tantrums or any other pussy shit.”

She laughed. “You’re literally doing it right now.”

When Ben only grunted, she giggled again, a smug and weightless sound that made the Thing so fucking pleased. He looked down at Her in fake anger, and found that she was still flat on her back, watching him with a teasing smile and pretty eyes. The Thing wanted to pull Her into his side, to make sure that she stayed light and amused and thoughtlessly relaxed forever.

“Someone’s grumpy.” Her smile was toothy and wide, and the Thing wanted to touch Her lips. “Was nap time too short?”

He rolled his eyes, forcing himself to stand from the bed. “Go fucking eat, brat.”

“What do you want?” She called as he moved to Her bathroom. “I’ll make you oatmeal, Ben, I swear to God-“

Ben turned right before the door. “Fucking hell, bagels. Make bagels.”

“You had a bagel two days ago.”

“It’s a free country, Sunshine, I’m allowed to eat a bagel for multiple fucking days.” Ben glared at Her. “And you ate that bagel.”

“You left it out.”

“It was my fucking bagel.”

“Jesus, fine, we’ll have bagels.” She rolled her eyes, sitting up on the bed and muttering under her breath. “Fucking man baby.”

“You know I fucking heard that.” Ben snapped, she stuck her tongue out at him, and the Thing pushed at his stomach.

He closed the door before She could retaliate, listening to her shuffle around the room for several minutes—doing what he had no fucking clue—before her heartbeat faded down the stairs.

Ben had never actually used Her bathroom before. He’d always walked down the hall to his, never needing to piss or shit so bad he couldn’t just fucking hold it. Any time he did leave Her room for his own, it was to fuck his hand behind a locked door, to indulge fantasies of Her in the very room he’d just left. Ben hadn’t even fully thought about what he was doing when he’d walked into Her bathroom, it had felt like the most goddamn normal thing in the world. Now, flushing the toilet and looking around, Ben hated how fucking satiated the Thing felt. Surrounded by Her in tiny and stupid ways, seeing little damn pieces of her everywhere. The shampoo that he always smelled on Her, the discarded towel on the floor, the half-empty hand soap placed beside her toothbrush, drying on the counter. A toothbrush he was fucking jealous of for being in her mouth, like a fucking creeping pussy who’d never touched a woman.

When Ben exited the bathroom—fully intending to follow Her to the kitchen—he did quick sweep of the room, saw Her outfit from the night before hanging out of the hamper, and realized she’d been fucking changing. With him only a door away. The Thing rumbled with images of Her peeling off her clothes, moving smoothly through the room in nothing but her underwear, maybe even pulling those off too—

Ben made a detour to his room, finding relief in a fantasy of Her at his side, laying on her back with that perfect smile, and him climbing on top of her and fucking her until she was numb with pleasure. Or pulling Her onto his lap and letting her grind on him until she orgasmed with her head against his chest. Or Her rolling down, taking him in her mouth and him shooting down her throat-

He came, with a jerk of his hips, a low grunt, and imagined sounds of Her moaning in his ear.

Once he’d cleaned up—he had to find a less fucking time consuming way to do this—Ben descended the stairs and found Her at the bookshelf, pushing through its contents with a focus, narrowed intent.

“What the fuck are you-“

“There’s no fucking cookbooks in the goddamn house!” Her voice was frustrated, glaring at the books with a scowl Ben had only seen directed at himself or Butcher. “Fucking CIA didn’t think we might want just one, one cookbook? They gave us a printed copy of the constitution, but not one fucking cookbook?”

“Why the hell would you want a cookbook?” He watched her pull another two books from the shelves, making an annoyed huff before throwing them onto the floor. “You can’t cook.”

“I know that!” She snapped. “You think I don’t fucking know that?”

“Then why are you being so goddamn dramatic-“

 Ben was cut off by a copy of Shakespeare’s Complete Works flying at his face.

Her attention had already returned to the bookshelf by the time Ben was rubbing the fading red mark, her movements frantic. “I want to learn, ok? I need to learn to cook just one, shitty ass meal.”

“Fucking why?” He watched Her with vague amusement. “Did you hit your head last night?”

A pout formed on Her lips, and the Thing wanted to suck on them.

“I thought you’d be fucking pleased, Benjamin, that I’m finally conforming to what’s expected of my gender.” She grumbled, and Ben snorted.

“You are not a hallmark of your gender, Sunshine.” This time, Ben managed to dodge The Great American Song Book, but not Atlas Shrugged.

“Fuck you,” She snapped. “Go fucking eat your bagel, you cunt.”

He raised his brows at Her. “You made the bagel?”

“Of course I did, dumbass,” She grumbled, not sparing Ben a glance. “It’s in the kitchen, you can eat it or just shove it up your ass for all I care.”

Ben snorted, but wandered into the kitchen to find that She had indeed left a bagel on the counter, even fucking spread it with that damn strawberry cream cheese and placed a handful of napkins beneath the plate.

“I didn’t ask you to use that pink shit.” Ben mumbled, mouth full as he returned to the living room, standing in the doorway. “And five napkins is fucking overkill.”

Though Her back was turned from him, Ben could fucking feel her eye roll.

“You love that pink shit, you ass. And a thank you would be nice.”

“And the napkins?”

“You’re getting crumbs literally everywhere at this very second. Five was a generous lowball.”

Ben scoffed, ignoring the tiny pieces of bagel he could feel in his beard. “Fuck off, you’re not even looking at me.”

“Don’t have to, I can hear your loud-ass chewing.” She threw another book to the growing pile on the floor, hands finding her hips as she huffed at the near-empty shelf. “Is there a bookshelf in your room?”

“I don’t fucking know.” Ben wasn’t even in his room enough to have any idea, and when he was, books were the least of his concerns.

“Can I check?”

“Why are you fucking killing yourself about this?” He watched Her overly tense back rise and fall in short breaths. “I was kidding about you hitting your damn head, but you’re being fucking weird.”

“No I’m not,” She mumbled, turning with a frown on her face. “And what’s fucking weird is you not jumping for joy that we’re not going eat bagels or mac and cheese for the rest of our damn lives.”

He gave Her a mocking smile. “Well, if you’re doing it for me, Sunshine, then by all means-“

Ben caught Les Misérables right before it hit his throat.

“Can you just,” She sighed, watching Ben with a sadness in her eyes he didn’t understand. “Can you please not be a dick about this.”

Ben nodded slowly, narrowing his eyes at Her as she let out a heavy breath. “You’d tell me if something was wrong,” he said Her name firmly. “If I needed to be ready for some shit.”

“Yeah,” She gave him a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I would.”

“Good,” Ben grunted, even as the Thing wanted to pull Her right into his chest. Even as he didn’t fully believe her. “There’s a cookbook on the top shelf.”

She blinked. “What, no there’s not. I checked-“

“Not well,” he said with a smirk. “I can fucking see it from here.”

“If you’re lying just to be an ass, I’m going to kill you, Pretty Boy.” She grumbled as she turned, and Ben waited while she scanned the highest shelf, chuckling to himself when she let out an infuriated sound that meant she’d found it.

“Told you,” Ben grinned widely as She pulled it down, turning back to face him with a sour face.

She flipped him off with one hand, holding the book with the other. “Cunt.”

“Brat.”

She wrinkled her nose, flipping through the pages with an adorable intensity. Ben just watched Her, the Thing pulling against him as her face lit up with a full smile.

“Found it!” She looked up at Ben, smile growing, and the Thing whined.

Ben tried to push it down, down, down and away from his chest, refusing to be a pussy who allowed his emotions to be controlled by the smile of one fucking woman.

One fucking perfect woman, the Thing reminded him, and a warmth spread through him against his fucking will.

“Congratulations,” he said dryly. “All by yourself too.”

“All by yourself-“

Ben gave her a flat look. “All by yourself as well.”

She rolled her eyes, pushing past him to walk down the hall. Ben trailed after Her like a fucking puppy. “What are you doing?” He called ahead, and she didn’t break pace for a second as she responded.

“We’re cooking dinner, dumbass.”

“We?”

“We.” They stopped in the kitchen, and she threw Ben another insufferably perfect smile. “I did not just destroy the living room to eat a bagel. We’re doing this tonight.”

Ben glared at her. “You keep fucking saying we-”

“Fine, Pretty Boy. I’m cooking dinner and you’re standing in the kitchen in case I need to yell at someone.”

“Hm,” he grunted. “I want another bagel.”

She gave a small laugh. “Deal.”

They shook on it—The Thing rolling around inside Ben as their hands touched—and She set to work.

Ben had seen a lot of car crashes. Watched a lot of bombs explode and a lot of people die.

While this was worse in quite a few ways, it was also a lot fucking funnier.

“What the fuck does ‘veggies are tender’ mean?” She snapped. “How can a vegetable be tender.”

“Maybe you need to arouse it,” Ben shrugged, taking a large bite of his second bagel. “I can do that for you.”

“You’re a gentleman,” She muttered, and he grinned, shooting her a wink.

“Are you doubting my abilities, Sunshine?”

She scoffed, but the Thing rumbled as her heart stuttered. “To make vegetables horny? Yeah, I think I am.” She narrowed her eyes at the book. “How ‘thin’ is thinly sliced?”

“How the fuck would I know?”

“Didn’t think you would, dumbass, I was thinking out loud.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “And I think they just mean like, small?”

She looked up at Ben for confirmation—despite Her calling him a dumbass less than five seconds ago—and the Thing started trying to roll around in his chest. “I don’t give a shit.”

“Helpful,” She snapped, dumping out a bag full of bell-peppers onto the counter, and he grinned.

Ben shoved the remainder of his bagel in his mouth, watching Her cut up the peppers—and then the onions—as if she was torturing them for information. Little bits and pieces were flying everywhere, he was almost fucking positive she cut herself at least twice, and he could hear Her mumbling threats to the onions about Her making them cry instead.

He snorted as She threw the vegetables into the pot, flipping them off as she turned on the stove. “How long do I have to wait for you to just give the fuck up?” 

“Forever,” She snapped. “Neither of us are going anywhere until these vegetables are tender as fuck.”

“I don’t know why you’re even doing this vegetable shit, you’re immortal now, you don’t need to be healthy-“

Ben managed, but only fucking barely, to dodge the knife as it flew at his face.

“Shut up.” She snapped. “Or I won’t give you any when I’m done.”

“Promise?” He mocked, and she picked up a second knife. “Jesus fucking Christ, fine. What are you even making?” He grunted, reaching to grab the cookbook.

She snatched it back and far from his hand. “It’s a surprise.”

“A fucking surprise?” He snorted. “Why?”

“Because.” She held the cookbook with white knuckles, and Ben rolled his eyes.

“Shitty ass surprise,” he grumbled, and She gave him one last glare before turning her anger down to the steak defrosting on the counter.

Over the next half hour, She managed to cut up the steak through a process of vulgar threats, curses, and throwing three more knives at Ben—only two of which he deserved. Once she’d shoved the steak into the oven—Ben had helpfully suggested She just use her own fucking fire and She’d asked if he had any interest in the house burning down—she picked up the pot of vegetables and walked over to where Ben sat at the counter.

“Tender?” She extended the pot for him to look at, frowning at its contents.

The vegetables were soft, and a little brown. Ben had no fucking clue what that meant in terms of “tender”.

“Fucking sure,” he watched the crease on Her forehead deepen, and the Thing wanted to kiss right over it until it vanished.

She looked up at him, lips pulling down, but nodded and dumped the vegetables into a bowl. After giving them one last glare, She dropped into the seat next to Ben with a heavy sigh. “The steak won’t be ready for ten minutes,” she mumbled, fingers tapping on the counter.

Ben shrugged, trying to control the Thing rumbling comfortably in his chest at Her arm brushing his. “Are you going to tell me what the fuck is wrong now?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” She muttered, and the tapping picked up.

“You’re lying. It might not be something I need to prepare for, both something is fucking up with you.” He watched Her scowl at nothing. “Is it your sister?”

The tapping picked up. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

He said Her name firmly. “You need to fucking tell her you’re alive.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you-“

“Just fucking drop it, Ben, ok?!” She snapped. “You’re not going to change my mind, so just fucking drop it.” She took a deep breath, and the Thing clenched in Ben’s chest. “Please, just let it go.”

He grunted, the Thing flipping as She looked up at him. “Fine.”

She nodded, relief crossing her face as the tapping slowed. “Thank you.” She paused, eyes searching his face. “Do you want me to do more of the PTSD treatment tonight?”

“Tomorrow,” he said, not having missed the bags under Her eyes and poorly hidden yawns. “You need to rest.”

She frowned. “I’ve literally been resting all day.”

“You were tossing and turning all of last night, Sunshine.” He said flatly, and She blinked at him, heart picking up.

“What, what are you talking about-“

“It’s not a big fucking deal,” Ben frowned at Her wide-eyed expression. “You were just rolling around a shit ton. Didn’t seem very restful.”

“Oh,” she mumbled. “Sorry.”

“I didn’t fucking need to leave the bed, Sunshine, I don’t give a shit.” He shrugged.

She tilted her head at him. “Would you have?”

“What?”

“If it had bothered you, would you have gone to sleep in your room?” She examined his face, and Ben could hear the chewing of her lips.

“Why the fuck does that matter?”

“Well, um, I just don’t remember the last time you actually slept in your own bed.” She said sheepishly, suddenly avoiding his gaze. “If you want to, you don’t have to stay in my room all the time-“

“Do you want me to go back to my room?” Ben asked, and his voice was harsher than he intended. The Thing was scraping at him, gripping at his throat a the very fucking idea of Her not wanting him, of Her sending him to be without her-

“No!” Her voice was panicked, and Ben blinked in surprise. “I don’t want you to go back, but if you want to-”

“I don’t,” Ben grunted, the Thing breathing in relief as he tried to sound like less of a desperate pussy. “I mean, I’m fucking fine staying there.”

“Okay.” She gave him a small smile, and the Thing felt light, even as she stood from her seat. “Steak,” She said, and Ben realized he’d started to frown as She moved.

“Whatever,” he grunted, and watched Her move through the kitchen. She threw together whatever shit she was trying to make, finally stood straight—a smug look on Her face—and turned with a mess of cheese, meat, and bread on a plate.

“I did it,” She was beaming at him, holding the “food” proudly, and any comments about how Ben was pretty fucking sure She’d just made a bioweapon died in his throat as the Thing tried to escape him.

“Congratulations.” He huffed, and glanced at the sludge in her hands. “What the fuck is it.”

“Cheesesteak.”

Ben frowned. “Cheesesteak?” 

She picked up the cookbook, dropping it in front of him as she sat back at his side. “Philly Cheesesteak, with peppers and onions.” She read aloud, pointing to the page with a grin. “Medium difficulty.”

The Thing was pounding at him, and Ben couldn’t stop himself from asking. “Philly Cheesesteak because?” At the flush of Her face, he pushed further. “Why Philly Cheesesteak, Sunshine? Any particular reason?”

“Shut up,” She muttered.

“Hm,” Ben teased, his own smile growing. “Does it have something to do with me-“

“Yes, you cunt. It’s because you’re from Philly.” She snapped, not looking at him. “Don’t be a fucking dick about it, I just wanted to make something I thought you’d like.”

“You only made one serving,” Ben pointed out as the Thing started roaring with a painful need to hold her. “And I already ate.”

“Oh, fuck off. We both know this is going to taste like shit.” She wrinkled her nose at the plate. “I’m going to make it for you when I can actually make it somewhat good.” She paused, heart faltering slightly. “If you want me to.”

Ben shrugged, and the Thing roared. “Food is fucking food. I’ll never say no to a pretty lady making me some.”

She hummed, and her heart picked up a little faster than it had been before. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he looked between Her and the plate. “Now eat that so we can go the fuck to bed.”

She wrinkled her nose at him, but began to eat in small bites. “It’s not terrible.” She said through a mouthful. “I’ve eaten worse.”

Ben grunted, watching Her chew and swallow. “Are you going to shower?”

“Huh?”

“Before bed,” he said, ignoring the way She licked her lips clean of food and how it made his gut warm.

“Are you saying I smell bad, Benjamin?” She teased, face all comfortable and happy. “That’s not very nice.”

He glared at Her. “I fucking want to shower, brat. And since you always whine about how long I take, I wanted to know if you need hot water.”

“Oh,” She blinked at him. “That’s, that’s really sweet.”

“Shut up,” Ben muttered. The Thing was powerful and uncontrollable in him at Her words, like a fucking pussy. He wasn’t fucking sweet, She just always got all pouty when the water was cold and it made him fucking frustrated. She would sulk around and be fucking grumpy and it made the Thing tight in his lungs, made him feel an edge he hated. She still hadn’t even fucking answered his question, so Ben poked her shoulder and she looked up at him with a full mouth. “Well?”

She swallowed roughly. “Oh, uh, yeah I think I am.” She frowned, and Ben could hear Her thoughts turning in Her head.

“Spit it out.” He prompted.

“What?”

“You look like you have a stupid question, and you’re going to fucking explode if you don’t ask it.”

“I won’t explode-“

Ben said Her name flatly. “Yeah, you will. So spit it out.”

She sighed. “You have to promise not to-“

“I know the damn drill, Sunshine. I promise not to mention it again if the answer is no. Now stop being a fucking pussy and ask the question.”

“If you want, and you don’t have to-“ She took a deep breath, and the words began to fall out of Her. “I’d be okay with it if you moved your clothes into my room. Or like some clothes. Whatever you want. I just think it might be easier, if you think you want to stay there. And I do want you, I mean I like you there, so, if you want, you can move your stuff into my room.”

Ben stared at Her, watching him with a nervous expression, heart pounding in Her chest. The Thing was rioting inside him. She wanted him in her room, in her space. She wanted him there, wanted things to be easier for him. For him to stay with her. She liked him there. With her. Ben cleared his throat, and spoke before he could even really think.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?” She said cautiously. “Does yeah mean, like, yeah I don’t want, or yeah I do want to, or yeah I’ll think about it-“

“I’ll do it,” Ben said, trying to sound as casual as he fucking could with the Thing trying to tell him to pick Her up and place her on the counter and make all that stupid fucking doubt leave her face because what the hell was it even there for in the first place-

“Okay.” She took another bite of Her food. “Then maybe you can shower now and move your stuff when I’m showering?”

“Sure,” Ben stood, and She turned her attention fully to her plate. There was a little thing of melted cheese on her lip, and he wanted to brush it off with his thumb.

“Don’t take a year.” She said, and Ben swallowed as her tongue swept out to pull the cheese into her mouth.

He coughed, forcing himself to move away from the counter. “Fuck off,” he muttered, and picked up his pace out of the kitchen as She giggled behind him.

It was a race against his own fucking self-control to get to the shower and take care of himself before the Thing made him turn around and prove to Her that there was no goddamn reason she should’ve been unsure. Make Her smile and pull her tongue into his own mouth, maybe spread Her out on the counter and taste her-

Ben practically ripped his clothes off, managing to climb into the shower before the Thing consumed him.

They were back on their bed, Her lying on her back with a bright smile and Ben sitting at her side. 

“Nap time too short?” She asked again, and this time Ben didn’t scoff or stand from the bed.

He smirked back down at Her, and reached out, running a thumb over her lips. “I’m wide awake, Sunshine. But I can think of a few ways to tire me out.”

Her mouth fell further open, and she let out a small sound. “Like what?” Her voice was barely a whisper, and Ben moved his hand tangle in Her hair, cupping her head as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into his lap.

“Whatever you want, beautiful.” He watched Her eyes widen, and Ben could feel the heat of her cheeks against his hand. “I have some ideas, but I’m open to suggestions.”

Moving his hand down, Ben traced a line from Her neck to her collarbone, dropping it all the way to her ass and lowering his head to kiss along her neck. She started to whimper, and he could feel the sounds escaping from her against his lips.

“Ben,” She said breathlessly, her hands finding his hair. “You-“ She let out a loud moan, head falling back as he squeezed her with one hand, tracing patterns along her skin with his other.

“Me, what?” He said Her name into her skin. “What do you want me to do?”

She dropped her hands from his hair, pulling his head up to look at Her, eyes scanning his face for only a second before she was kissing him. Long and desperate, all teeth and tongue and deep groans into each other. When She pulled back for air, Ben nipped at her lower lip and raised his hand from her waist, running his thumb over its swell.

“I want you.” She whispered, her own hand holding his against her face. “Can I have you?”

Ben pulled Her back to him, kissing her deeply until her grip was tight and she was grinding down on him. When he pulled back, he answered firmly, with no room for her to doubt. “You already fucking do.”

She nodded slowly, and suddenly she was touching him. Palming Ben through his pants, smiling perfectly at his hardness against her hand. “Where do you want me?” She asked, a beautiful fucking taunt. “You can take me right here, or at the wall. You can use my mouth, or my pussy, or I can just use my hand?”

He groaned Her name. “Fucking hell-“

“What do you want me to do, Ben? Where do you want to have me?”

Ben came, shouting Her name into the steam of the shower. Only as the high faded did it finally fucking occur to him the mistake he’d just made. He had no fucking excuse to return to his room and indulge the Thing anymore, no good reason to lock himself behind a door she wouldn’t enter and fuck his hand to the thought of Her.

He could back out. He could tell Her he’d changed his mind, he wanted to keep their shit separate, that keeping it together was just too fucking intimate and he didn’t want her to have that part of him.

Liar, the Thing hissed into him. You want Her to have every fucking part of you. You’re just too pussy to tell her.

No, he fucking didn’t. He needed to call it the fuck off, before he did something fucking stupid or insane-

She’d be so sad, The Thing snapped. You’d be fucking breaking Her.

She was a grown ass woman. She’d survive.

Would you?

Ben turned off the shower, jerking the handle clean off the wall. He dropped in on the tile floor, changed fast, and stomped down the hall to where Her heartbeat had moved— fully fucking ready to tell her he’d changed his mind and would probably just sleep in his own damn room tonight—only to open the door and find her sitting up at the headboard, already in pyjamas, eyes drooping as she read a small book.

“I thought you wanted to shower,” he said gruffly, and She just sighed, not looking up at him.

“Were you ever actually convicted of treason?” She asked. “Because if you weren’t, I’ve been calling you an enemy of the state for no reason.”

 “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Apparently, someone can’t be held guilty for treason with two witnesses or a confession.” 

“That’s not better, brat.”

She held up her book for Ben to read Constitution of the United States of America spelled out in pointlessly fucking fancy letters on the cover. “I was cleaning up downstairs, and realized I’ve never actually read the whole thing.”

“Yeah, most people haven’t.” Ben said wryly. “Only fucking pussy ass nerds bother with that shit.”

“Aren’t you America’s Son?” 

“Yeah, but I’m a fucking man who has a life outside of books. What happened to your fucking shower?”

She shrugged. “I’m not that dirty. I’ll shower in the morning, before we do the PTSD treatment.”

Ben grunted, not moving from the door. “I still think you’re not actually doing fucking shit with that.”

“I still don’t fucking care.” She finally looked up at Ben, and the Thing stared punching against him like a fucking pussy. “Why are you just standing there, you weirdo.”

“What?” Ben frowned at Her question, trying to fight the Thing telling him to go drop next to her, let her lean against him. “The fuck are you-“

“You’ve been standing at the door for like five minutes.” She said pointedly, folding the book and placing it on her bedside table. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fucking fine, Sunshine.” He grunted, and the rest of his will fucking crumbled at the goddamn soft look on Her perfect face. “I just wanted to know if I should wait for you to shower before I start moving my shit.”

“Oh,” She blinked, and started to stand. “I can help you-“

“No.” Ben cut Her off quickly. She hadn’t been in his room for more than a few minutes at a time since he’d started sleeping in hers, and some part of him was convinced she would walk in a fucking smell his cum lingering. At Her frown, he gave a short, gruff explanation of “you’re comfortable, I can fucking move clothes my damn self,” and left the room before she could respond.

It only took two trips to move all his shit, and after shoving into the drawers at Her instructions, apparently doing it wrong despite following Her every word, and Her doing it the “correct way”—which was the same way he had fucking done it—he dropped on the mattress, sitting upright as She crawled into hers.

“Night, Pretty Boy.” She mumbled through a yawn, and her eyes dropped closed before Ben could respond.

Ben didn’t remember falling asleep. He’d watched Her breathe peacefully at his side, listened to the lazy rhythm of her heart, and when she’d curled into his side, Ben had laid down and held Her to his chest. Almost like he’d only blinked, the room became full of light creeping through the curtains, and She was gone from the bed.

He could hear the shower running from the bathroom, her heartbeat smothered by the fall of the water. Unwilling to sit here, desperate for Her to return to his side like a fucking pussy, Ben stood and made his way to the kitchen, putting on the coffee and scowling at the pot as it took a million goddamn years to brew.

After impossibly long minutes Ben heard the water stop, and fucking cursed himself for the intensity of how he listened to Her heart upstairs. She shuffled around, the time stretching longer, and Ben felt the Thing sigh in relief as she finally began the walk down the stairs.

Ben glanced at Her as she entered the kitchen. “You’re up.”

“Fucking obviously,” she mumbled, stopping at his side. “Coffee?”

The pot gave a pathetic fucking sputter. “I think it’s broken.” Ben muttered, and there was another weak crackling sound in response.

“Hm,” She reached past him, opening the top of the machine. Peering forwards, She sighed. “Ben.”

“What?” He snapped, and She rolled her eyes, pulling the empty pot from its place and moving to the sink.

“You didn’t put any water in it, dumbass.”

Ben scowled. “I just fucking woke up, you try-“

“I’m not mad,” She said lightly, glancing over her shoulder with amusement. “I’m just saying it’s not broken, and that’s why.”

“Fuck off,” he grumbled, watching Her pour the water into the top of the coffee maker.

She only smiled at him, and even fake rage felt fucking impossible.

They didn’t talk much over breakfast, Ben trying not to watch the way Her damp hair hung around her face, or the bob of her throat when she swallowed her cereal. When the coffee had finished, She’d stood and poured two mugs, dropping one next to Ben’s plate and holding the other tightly between two hands.

“Living room?” She asked, continuing when Ben only frowned at her. “For the PTSD.”

He made a passive sound, drinking his coffee in a chug. “I don’t give a fuck.”

“What an amazing contribution to my efforts,” She muttered, and Ben winked at her.

“Does the exactly same amount of jack fucking shit wherever, Sunshine.”

She wrinkled her nose at him, poking her spoon around in the bowl. “You’re going to eat your words, Pretty Boy.” Her words seemed more targeted to the soggy cereal than Ben. “Just fucking wait.”

After dumping the dishes in the sink—Ben would fucking wash them later, and no amount of Her glaring at him would make him do it now—they dropped on the couch in those same fucking positions that had made the Thing loud and satisfied. This time was no fucking better, with Her gentle hands back in Ben’s hair and her perfect face only fucking inches away.

“I have a question,” She said abruptly, her hands hardly settled against his head. She didn’t wait for him to nod before she continued, speaking without meeting his eyes. “How did you know about Moon River?”

“Moon River?” Ben repeated slowly, watching Her overly controlled face as She gave a small nod.

“I just-“ She gave him a quick, nervous look. “I heard you humming it yesterday, during my, uh, meltdown. I never told you about it.”

He frowned. “What would there be to tell me?”

“How do you know about it?” She said firmly, finally fucking looking at him with raised brows. “And I asked first.”

“You tap it,” Ben said stiffly, and She tilted her head at him. “When you’re about to lose your shit.”

“And you recognized it based on tapping?” She said doubtfully, eyes narrowing. “It’s not a rhythmic song.”

“I took he a fucking bit to realize what it was, but it’s not my fault you can’t barely keep a fucking beat.” “There’s no beat in that song.”

Ben shrugged. “You do the verses. Stop trying to fucking avoid my question.”

“I’m not avoiding your question,” She grumbled, looking back up to his head. “You’re just making no sense.”

Ben said Her name flatly, and she gave an annoyed huff.

“It was my mother,” She snapped. “Her favorite song. She sang it all the time when I was a kid, it’s the only song she never made me perform, and it makes me feel safe.”

“Perform?” He frowned. “The fuck do you mean perform?”

She sighed. “Doesn’t matter.”

“The fuck it doesn’t”

“It really doesn’t,” She cut him off shortly. “It’s never something I’ll have to do again, so it just doesn’t. You won’t fucking care about it, Ben. Trust me.”

“Fucking try me, Sunshine.” She looked back down at Ben, and he gave her a challenging glare. “Don’t put words in my goddamn mouth.”

“If I do,” She said, holding his gaze. “You’re not allowed to be a dick.”

“Deal.”

“Promise?”

“Fucking hell,” he muttered. “I promise.”

“Okay,” She took a deep breath, glaring at his forehead as she spoke. “My parents divorced when I was young. It was violent, messy. I had to testify in court. My mom got full custody, because my dad had shit credit and my mom was an amazing actress. Showed up all running mascara and soft words, like She hadn’t just threatened me on the car ride over. She remarried real fast, like suspiciously fucking fast, to a rich, political dynasty asshole. Dude was a Connecticut senator when they got married, and he somehow got elected governor while I was gone. He would put on these stupid parties. With dancers and champagne towers and chocolate fountains. One of my brothers would give a speech, the other would play piano, my sister would dance, and I would sing. Sometimes they’d hold an auction for what song I performed, and the only song my mother didn't allow me to perform was Moon River. It was our song, her song. It reminds me that there was a least one thing, one stupid fucking thing, that made me more important to her than the money. I mean,” She gave a dry, hollow laugh. “She probably would’ve caved for enough money, but I left before she could.”

Ben watched Her, the Thing scraping to hold her. “What made you leave?”

The silence before She spoke was torture. The Thing needed to know what her final straw had been. What line had been crossed, so he would never go fucking near it, fucking walk as far away from it as he could until She never even had to fear it.

“She tried to keep me from leaving.” Her voice was soft. “I was fourteen, about to start high school. She tried to send me to some dog shit prep school, said I needed to work on my manners and being more fucking lady-like for when I graduated. I told her grades were important to get into college, she told me I wouldn’t be going to college. Said I was too pretty to have to worry about a job, pretty enough that men would overlook my temperament.”  She snorted. “I told her I wanted a job, I wanted to go to college. She told me to fuck off now, because she’d lock me in the house if I didn’t. So I fucked off. I moved in with my dad. Dude lived in a dogshit apartment with rats and asbestos and loud neighbors, but I never had to perform again. I could leave whenever I wanted, I was fucking free.” A shadow crossed Her face, her hand gripping Ben’s face tighter. “I was free.”

“Did they fucking look for you?” Ben felt the Thing grow taut in him, straining for the clouds forming in Her eyes. “When Homelander-“

She cut him off, shaking her head. “He faked my death. Left a note, nobody questioned it further.” Smoke curled around them, and Her heart was uneven and quick. “He used to tell me that I was better with him, he cared more than anyone could, and he would tear the world apart to get me back if I left him.” She took a shaky breath, and the Thing felt heavy in Ben’s chest.

“You’re not going back,” Ben said lowly, and Her eyes fell to his. “I fucking mean it.”

“I know,” She said quietly. “I trust you.”

The pain on Her face made Ben want to make Homelander fucking bleed and bleed until he died a painful, pathetic fucking death.

“I think we’re done.” He pulled Her hands down from his face, and She frowned at him.

“What do you mean, it’s barely been thirty minutes-“

“You’re still tired, Sunshine.” He says firmly. “We’re done.”

“But-“

“Nope, done.” Ben pushed Her hands to her lap. “We’ve got other shit to do, Sunshine. You’ve got to practice your cheesesteak.”

She scowled. “It’s your night to make dinner, cunt. You’re not getting out of it just because I’m trying to learn to cook.”

“Well, you can fucking practice for lunch, and I’ll still do dinner.”

“I chose what you make.”

“Are you fucking negotiating?”

“Yep,” she gave him a fake-sweet smile. “I choose what you make, and what we watch.”

“Fuck no,” Ben rolled his eyes. “Dinner-maker controls the TV. That was the goddamn deal.”

“I get to work on your PTSD. That was a deal as well.”

“That’s not the way it fucking works-“

“That’s the offer on the table, Pretty Boy.” She shrugged. “Take it and I’ll go make a cheesesteak right fucking now, leave it and I keep working on your stupid fucking head.”

Ben glowered at Her determined, insufferable, perfect face. “You’re a fucking piece of work, brat.”

“Right back at you, cunt.” She grinned widely—all light and smug and pleased—with Her hand outstretched, and Ben couldn’t fucking force himself to be mad at Her if she tried.

“Fucking Christ,” Ben muttered, but shook Her hand all the same.

With a small, satisfied sound that made the Thing fucking groan, She stood and walked straight to the kitchen. Ben trailed like a fucking pussy behind Her, deciding it wasn’t because the Thing started to claw at him when She left his sight, but that he just simply couldn’t miss the disaster about to unfold.

After about ten minutes it became clear that while She seemed to have mastered what “thin and tender vegetables” looked like, Ben was starting to wonder if he should be concerned about the steak giving her an aneurism. While it was damn adorable to watch her fight with the frost-bitten steak one the counter—a battle that involved several graphic threats about tracking down the cow’s family and using them for Her food instead—Her face was contorted in dramatic anger and Ben could hear her chewing through her lip.

“It would really go faster if you just cooked with your fucking fire powers.” Ben drawled and She glared at him.

“I don’t know how to do that, cunt. I can’t control it at that level.”

“I’ll teach you.” He said—complete fucking sincerely—and She scoffed. “What,” Ben scowled. “What’s so fucking amusing about that.”

She shrugged, leaning against the counter with crossed arms. “You can’t even control yourself, and most of our powers are very fucking different.”

“First of all, brat, I haven’t exploded in fucking months. Second of all, shut the fuck up. And finally, I used to train people at Vought all the goddamn time.”

“So?”

“So,” he snapped mockingly. “I know what I’m fucking doing.”

“Yeah, when you’re being paid a million dollars to tell someone don’t make a fist like that, you’ll break your fingers,” She dropped her voice in a deep-voice, mocking impression. “Aim for the throat, people use that to breathe.”

“I trained people’s powers as well,” Ben pushed, matching Her frown. “I made some good fucking heroes.”

“I’m sure,” She said, leaning forward in sarcastic interest. “Crimson Countess, you have to aim at the target. You won’t hit it if you don’t.”

“And she got a lot fucking better at it, so my point is fucking proven.”

“You were fucking her,” She dismissed with a wave of her hand, turning back to the steak. “Doesn’t count.”

The Thing started to feel like it was crawling up and around inside Ben. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I dunno,” Her heart was stumbling, and Ben wished she would fucking look at him so he could see if Her face was in that pretty flush. “Reward systems are scientifically proven to be effective.”

“So me fucking her was a reward-“

Ben’s smug words died in his throat as fire ripped through the air, filling the room with smoke and the smell of charcoal. Ben waved a hand, clearing the smoke, and found Her standing at the now-black counter, hands on her hips as she glared down at a pile of charred ash.

“Didn’t work.” She said, spinning around with a scowl. “And we’re out of steak.”

“What the fuck was that?” Ben all but shouted, the smoke still clinging to the edges of the room. “You didn’t need to destroy the goddamn kitchen!”

“That was what you told me to do,” Her shoulders were tense, words clipped. “I told you I couldn’t control it, and ta da! I can’t!”

“You’re being a fucking brat,” he spat Her name, and when she turned to face him Ben hadn’t expected to see the sullen, tight look on Her face. Lips drawn together, hands gripping her sides with white knuckles. It wasn’t quite the hollow look that always made the Thing physically hurt, but it was really fucking close.

“I just don’t want to talk about training, okay?” She spat the word training with a venom, and though her voice was steady Ben could hear the tapping begin. “You can’t fucking help this.”

“This?” Ben stood from the counter, walking to Her in fast, long steps. “You mean you?”

She didn’t flinch as he stopped in front of her. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Stop fucking saying that,” he shouted, the Thing roaring in his ears, drowning almost all else out. “I can fucking fix this for you, if you would stop being such a stubborn bitch all the time!”

The sullen look faded into rage. “It doesn’t fucking matter!” Her voice had raised to match his. “I’m not supposed to have these powers. I’m not someone who’s going to even be a fucking fake hero or earn any fucking rewards. I’m a walking bomb, and I can’t control it, and it doesn’t fucking matter because there’s no fucking point.” A shallow, distressing breath shook Her body. “I don’t want to hurt people again, I won’t let myself.” She wasn’t looking at Ben anymore, voice clouded and heavy. “So it doesn’t matter.”

The Thing wasn’t only painful or consuming anymore. It was in Ben’s blood, fucking burning at Her, for Her. He grabbed Her perfect face, turning her sad eyes to his. “You won’t hurt people,” he said, keeping his voice as fucking calm as he could. “If you just let me fucking help you.”

“But-“

“I’m literally a walking bomb, Sunshine.” Ben raised his voice over hers. “If there’s no hope for you, there’s certainly fucking none for me.”

“That’s not the same,” She said quietly. “You’re you. You’re Soldier Boy.”

“You mean the fucking terrorist?” He watched Her lips tug slightly at his dry tone, and the Thing felt a little less suffocating. “Yeah, I’m sure the public will be clamoring for my return when this is over.”

“Aren’t we self-aware today,” She gave him a half-hearted smile, and Ben returned it.

“I’m always fucking self aware, Sunshine. It’s one of my best qualities.”

She gave a small laugh, and the Thing grew looser. “I think even you know that’s not true.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” He drawled, and Her smile became a little more genuine. “Now will you please just let me fucking train you.”

She sighed, but it wasn’t as heavy as before. “It doesn’t-“

“Do you seriously fucking believe-“ Ben didn’t let Her finish, because if she said doesn’t matter one more time he might lose his fucking mind. “That you’re just going to be a fucking hermit for the rest of your immortal life.”

“I mean,” She said with a strained, fake-passive tone. “Yeah.”

“You think I’d fucking let that happen?”

She blinked at him. “What?”

“Sunshine, when we’re out of this and I’m shipped off who fucking knows where, you’re welcome to come.”

“Are you-” She gaped at him, and the Thing felt stuck in his throat. “Are you serious?”

“You burn, I burn.” Ben reminded Her firmly, because even if he wasn’t entirely sure where this offering was coming from, he knew he fucking meant it. “If you can’t be around normal fucking assholes, control or not, you can always fucking be around me.”

She scanned his face. “And if I can be around people?”

“Then you can stay in shit-ass New York with all those fucking pussies on your team.” Ben answered, even as the Thing scraped at his ribs at the fucking idea of it. “But you’ll have to learn to control it.”

“What If I can’t,” there was nothing but fear and exhaustion in Her voice, and it made the Thing move faster in him. “What if I just can’t?”

“You can.” He didn’t leave room for protest before he continued. “We’ll start tomorrow.”

She gave a hesitant nod. “Tomorrow.”

Ben took the victory.

The remainder of the night was quiet, Ben heating pre-made meatballs per their shitty deal, Her deciding they would watch Game of Thrones—a fucking suspicious choice given she always grumbled at Ben’s commentary—and Ben tried not to stare at Her through the night, his brain fucking consumed by every goddamn way he wanted to touch her. He managed, by some fucking miracle, to force his attention to how he would go about their training.

Ben hadn’t been fucking lying, he had trained new heroes at Vought. Never any quite as powerful or insanely smart-mouthed and perfect as her, but She didn’t have to know that. He’d figure this out, because the fucking idea of Her locking herself up to keep every weak undeserving pussy safe made him feel bloody.

When Her eyes began to look heavy and she began rubbing her face to keep them open, Ben dragged her up into her—their—bed. Ben tried not to dwell on the Thing—peaceful and quiet from the soothing sounds of Her breathing and heart—and how his offer hadn’t felt forced onto its tongue. How he couldn’t blame its grip over him, because his words had been entirely fucking true, and had fallen from him naturally.

She was up before him in the morning again. Ben felt a cold space where She had been, and the shower wasn’t running, making him sit up roughly, not bothering to change before he stalked downstairs. Finding Her in the kitchen, cross-legged at the counter with a sandwich in one hand and a book in the other, Ben found it a lot fucking easier to breathe.

 “You’re up early,” he leaned against the door, and She looked up at him with cheeks puffed, mid-chew.

“Sorry,” She said through the mouthful of food, and Ben grinned as crumbs fell from her perfect mouth. “I got up to pee, and I couldn’t fall back asleep.” 

Ben walked to lean across the counter, the Thing bucking as She swallowed roughly. “That fucking excited to get started, huh Sunshine?”

“Fuck off,” She rolled her eyes. “I was just hungry.”

 “Sure.” He winked. “You’ll need the energy.” “Are we training my fire or running a marathon?” She asked, raising her brows at him. “Because I can always back out.”

“You mean pussy out?”

“Fuck you, Pretty Boy. I’m going to burn your face off, and you’ll have no one but yourself to blame.”

Ben grinned at Her as she took an aggressive bite, holding his gaze. “We’ll see, brat. Are we ready to go?”

“Don’t you want to eat?” She asked through chews.

“I’ll fucking live.”

She shook Her head, shoving the remainder of her sandwich into his hands. “Eat, Ben.”

“I’m fucking fine,” Ben said Her name dryly, failing to return the food to her as she held her hands behind her back.

“Eat,” She snapped. “You get all grumpy when you don’t.” When Ben still didn’t move, She narrowed her eyes at him. “Eat or I’m pussying out.”

Ben scowled at Her, but shoved the remainder of the sandwich his mouth, holding her glare with a look of irritated amusement as he swallowed

“Happy?” He mocked, and She gave him a genuine, toothy smile.

“Absolutely.”

The Thing fucking whined, and Ben had to fight a smile from taking over his goddamn face.

“Can we get fucking going then?”

She shrugged, “if it’s that important-“

Ben grabbed her arm—ignoring the warmth of Thing at her touch and is weak fucking need in his gut when she made a sound of surprise—pulling her to dining room. They stopped in the center of the space, and Ben forced himself to take a step back, looking down at Her sternly.

“How is this even going to fucking work?” She asked, bored sass dripping from her voice.

Ben winked at Her. “Reward system, Sunshine.” He ran through the plan he’d spent the previous night developing, and almost missed the flush of Her face and the stutter of her heart. “I’ll tell you what to do, and every time you do it right, I’ll owe you a favor.”

“A favor,” She repeated, and Ben couldn’t figure out what that fucking slow tone and neutral expression meant. “What can the favors do?”

“Whatever you want, that’s how favors work.”

“No limits?”

Ben smirked at Her. “No limits.”

She swallowed, and the Thing rumbled. “Then let’s fucking go.”

“Palm open,” Ben instructed, demonstrating with his own hand. When she followed suit, he nodded and continued. “Now light it.”

She gave him a flat look. “Are you fucking serious? I can light my hand, Ben.”

“Prove it.”

“Fucking asshole,” She muttered under her breath, and closed her eyes. A small flame ignited in her palm, and she stuck Her tongue out at Ben smugly. “Told you so, cunt.”

Ben fought the urge to grab Her, pull her tongue into his mouth. “I’m not done, brat.” He sneered. “Hold it.”

“Hold it?” She frowned, glancing between Ben and her hand. “The fire?”

“In your hand, for five minutes.” He grinned down at Her. “No spreading it, no letting it go out.”

“That’s it?” 

“That’s it.”

She gave him a distrustful glare, spreading Her fingers wider. “My first favor is going to be making you dye your beard blue.”

“What?” Ben’s tone of mock-fury seemed to only make Her grin. “Why?”

“Because I hate you.”

“Sure, Sunshine.” He pushed down how the Thing strained at the fucking idea of Her words being true. “But you’ll only be able to fucking waste your favor like that if you don’t fucking burn my beard off.”

“Fucking watch me, Pretty Boy.” She snapped, and Ben just winked.

The first minute was fine, but near the middle of the second Her eyes started to cloud, teeth gnawing at her lips. The fire started to flicker, and before the third minute started it burst up, spreading up Her arms and through her body.

“Goddamnit!” She screamed, smoke still rising after the fire went out.

Ben gave Her a cocky grin. “What that about watching-“

“Not a fucking word.” She spread Her palm once more. “I just wasn’t ready.”

Ben hummed, and shot him a murderous glare. “I didn’t say fucking shit.” He teased, and she rolled Her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll get it this time, brat.”

“Stop being supportive, you cunt.” She hissed, and Ben laughed.

It took Her two hours, twenty minutes, fifty-two tries, and a lot of swearing to hold the fire evenly for five minutes. It was fucking worth Her verbal abuse, Ben decided, because he’d never seen her smile that wide and happy as when she finally succeeded.

“Yes!” She looked like she might literally fucking jump with joy. “Suck on that, Benjamin.”

“One favor is yours, Sunshine.” He couldn’t fight the Thing from taking over him with a broad, face-covering grin and chuckled. “Now do it again.”

By the end of the day She’d only burned Ben five times—a fucking miracle as far as he was concerned—could hold it for ten minutes, and Ben owed her five favors.

“You’re making dinner,” She cashed the first one almost immediately, and Ben had expected nothing less. “And I still choose what we watch.”

“That’s two goddamn nights in a row,” he grumbled, and She snickered.

“I know, it’s amazing.”

“Brat.”

“Cunt.”

Though Ben scowled, the Thing felt so fucking good—proud and blissed out like he was on a fucking drug—watching for the first time in goddamn days look happy. That pussyass fucking joy only grew in him when Ben sat at Her side on the couch, passing her a plate of Dino nuggets. Her smile was like a fucking infection, and the Thing running through Ben wasn’t helped in the slightest by the presence of those blue, off-brand sunglasses on her head.

“What the hell are you wearing those for?” Ben asked tauntingly, trying to make his voice crude to cover the Things genuine need to know. “It’s fucking night time. Indoors.”

“They were collecting dust,” She reached a hand up, dropping them onto her face. “And I look cool as shit in them.”

“You’d look better if they were green,” Ben muttered. “Blue’s a-“

“Pussy ass color?” She teased. “Don’t worry Pretty Boy, I won’t touch your beard and ruin your handsome face.”

“Handsome?” He blinked at Her, the Thing bellowing so loudly Ben couldn’t even pretend to be cocky.

She ignored him, even as Her heart flipped. “How would you feel about a pink beard?”

Ben whacked Her shoulder lightly, and she giggled, giving him a pout that made the Thing hungry. “Shut the fuck up.” He grunted, and She just blew a raspberry at him.

Her attention returned to the TV and as they fell into a comfortable silence, Ben tried his fucking hardest to not steal glances at Her perfect face in the TV light, tried to fight the way the Thing rioted every time she laughed at the show.

When Ben went to shower that night, his thoughts were haunted by the wide, free smile on Her face.

The next two days were some of the most peaceful of Ben’s entire goddamn life. For the fourth morning in a row, She had woken first. There had been towel discarded onto their growing pile of dirty clothes that told Ben she’d showered, and he was able to hear Her heart beating with the shuffle of her steps from downstairs. He’d entered the kitchen a quarter hour later to find Her in an intent focus, surrounded by grocery bags and the cookbook open on the table.

“How long ago did you get up?” He asked, and She’d jumped in surprise.

“Two hours,” She’d answered, gesturing to the steak on the counter. “Mallory sent the delivery early. I think I’m getting better at this cooking shit.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, Sunshine.” Ben had teased, and been whacked by a paper grocery bag.

The day was filled with training, and once they’d hit fifteen minutes Ben started to have Her hit random household objects they both deemed entirely fucking useless. Itchy blankets and pillows from the spare bedroom, paintings of horses and flowers Ben told her were fucking shit—She’d laughed at that and the Thing had grown though his chest—all of Her remaining, non-fireproof clothes, and several books She’d claimed “made Her want to hurt someone in middle school.”

“I’ve never known you to need a reason to hurt someone,” Ben had drawled Her name.

She’d flipped him off. “I’m a god of peaceful resolutions, Ben.”

“Sure.”

“I am.”

“I agreed with you, brat.”

“I’ll fucking kill you cunt,” the words likely been spoken against her will, being the small, angry gape of Her mouth after.

Despite Her growing control over her powers, Ben somehow ended up with more burns that afternoon than the one before. He’d been scowling at Her as she held his head, beard slightly burned in a real fucking noticeable way.

“I look like a fucking pussy.”

“Because your beard has one little patch?” She’d teased, and watching where Her palms were resting in his hair.  “I promise, Ben, it looks the exact same to everyone but you.”

“Don’t lie to protect my fucking ego-“

 “I’ve never lied to protect your ego before. I’m not about to start now.”

Ben hadn’t had a good retort to that, and they’d sat in a bitter silence until She’d nudged his thigh with her knee. “What,” he’d sounded less resentful than he’d liked to, but it was hard to be bitter when the Thing was so fucking satiated by Her gentle smile, and how it was all for him.

“I swear, you look fine. You look like you always do.”

He’d smirked, “which is?” 

“Don’t push it.”

“I think the words you meant to say were like a Greek god of sex.”

“The Greek god of sex was a woman,” She’d mumbled, looking down at him. “And I said don’t push it.”

Ben had cum that night—the flutter of Her heart as she looked at him replaying in his head—with Her name swallowed in his throat.

She was up first, fucking again. Though she was still next to him in bed—their legs tangled and one of his arms wrapped instinctively around her—Ben had woken to Her eyes watching him with not a trace of lingering sleep.

“Morning, Pretty Boy.” She’d whispered, and he’d groaned, scratching at his face to try and push the itch of sleep from his body.

“How fucking long have you been watching me, Sunshine?”

“Not long.” Ben hadn’t believed Her—she wouldn’t meet his eyes, her own looked hung with gray, and her words sounded flat and rehearsed—but he’d let it go. They’d spent the morning it the Kitchen, Ben watching Her try to cook and doing her second cashed favor, reading a fucking book.

“This is a goddamn waste of a favor,” Ben had snapped, and She’d hummed, not turning away from the steak she was beating into submission.

“I have twelve favors still in the bank, and more on the way. I think I’ll live.”

“I shouldn’t have fucking offered you favors. Should’ve just said you get complete TV control.”

“Oh, definitely,” She laughed. “I probably would’ve agreed if you offered me ten bucks and some chocolate. But you didn’t, so now you have to read.”

Ben huffed, and dodged as spare thin and tender pepper flew at his face. “Fucking rude,” he’d said, and She’d grinned at him.

“Don’t bitch and moan like I’m torturing you. You’re just reading.”

“That’s fucking torture. This is worse than torture.”

“Woe really is you, Ben. All those words and not one is smut.”

“What the fuck is smut.”

She’d blinked, and her heart had stuttered. “It’s um, porn. Book porn.”

“You can read porn-“ Ben had examined Her, the embarrassment on her face. “Do you read porn, Sunshine?” 

“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer,” She’d mumbled, turning her back to him once more.

“I think you read porn-“

This time, the pepper hit Ben right in the nose. When She wasn’t paying attention he’d eaten it off the floor, and it didn’t taste like complete fucking shit. She was, through brutal and hilarious trial and error, getting better.

Everything was good. Genuinely fucking good. That afternoon Ben had walked away with only two burns, She had hit about half of the targets he’d set up with passable aim—a vast improvement from Her grand total of zero the day before—and the Thing was so fucking content it was driving Ben insane. Because though he was still forced to find relief during inconvenient times in locked spaces, the Thing was getting real fucking specific about a lot of shit. It had gotten so fucking comfortable, fantasies had started to happen in the moment. She leaned against him slightly, and Ben was lost in thoughts of pulling her on top of him and fucking her until she collapsed against him. She smiled at him and Ben barely held himself from bruising her mouth with his. Two nights in a row they’d been so close—tangled and pressed together in sleep—that Ben hadn’t been sure where he stopped and She started.

Things were fucking good. She was fucking perfect and Ben was starting to worry that the light feeling in his chest was something that might last. That he might burn the world to keep there.

She was sitting next to him now, watching the TV while Ben watched her. He wanted to touch Her, he had to touch Her. More than just her hands and legs, fucking everywhere. He needed to feel Her, because this stupid fucking euphoria was stronger when She was at his side and he could hear her heart. She needed to know that, he needed Her to smile because Ben told her that she was the most perfect goddamn thing that had ever existed, and nothing even came fucking close-

The door slammed, and She was moving before Ben was, a controlled flame igniting on her fingers. Some muffled grunts came from the dark hall, Ben felt his whole body tense, ready to bleed whoever was there-

A silhouette was nearing the door, and Ben was fucking proud of how fast the fireball left her hand. Only a second later, goddamn Butcher walked into the room, covering their floors in fucking blood and sweat.

Ben should’ve pushed Her harder that afternoon. Maybe Her flame would’ve hit Butcher in the fucking face instead of only leaving a scorch mark on the wall near his head.

“Fucking Christ!” Butcher roared, stumbling far to the side. “You almost fucking hit me!”

“I’m not that lucky,” She snapped, and Ben snorted. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“Are you blind, Love?” Butcher unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a large bullet wound in his chest. “Fucking fix it.”

She was, as fucking always, too kind for her own good. Because she stalked around the couch, and laid a single hand over Butcher’s wound in a venomous silence. Ben’s jaw clenched as Her heartbeat began to pick up, at the smug fucking look on Butcher’s face, at how she was rubbing her own chest in mirror to Butcher’s injury.

“Where did you even get this?” She asked, and Butcher shrugged.

“Don’t matter.” His gaze turned to Ben. “Got a gift for you, Gov.”

 “A gift?” She and Ben said in unison, and Butcher rolled his eyes.

“Aren’t you two bloody adorable,” he sneered, and Ben wondered if She could fix a ripped off head. “It’s in the damn car, I’ll need help getting it.”

“Help?” She asked, and Ben could see the thoughtful, untrusting frown covering her face, even with her back turned. “What is it?”

 “A fucking surprise.”

“He hates surprises,” She said, and the Thing hummed somewhere near Ben’s lungs.

“He’ll like this one,” Butcher dismissed. “Don’t you fucking trust me, Love?”

“Nope.” She snapped, heartbeat growing erratic even as she removed her hand. Butcher’s wound was gone, replaced by smooth, unblemished skin.

Butcher turned—flipping the hall light—and walked to the door in long steps. Swinging it open to the cool night air, he gave a sweeping gesture, brows raised. “C’mon cunts. We ain’t got all fucking night.”

Ben followed Her down the hall, only step behind, an arms distance away. Butcher’s car was parked in the drive, still running with the headlights on.

“What would you have done if the car had got stolen?” She asked, following Butcher to the trunk.

“Considering I can’t file a police report,” Butcher said, tone bored and cruel. “I think I might just use all the fucking CIA resources at my disposal to bloody find it.”

The trunk was popped open, and in it lay—fucking finally—the Soldier Boy shield in all its flawless fucking glory.

Ben didn’t hesitate to yank it up, grinning widely, and almost missed Her look of amusement.

 “Would you two like a minute alone?” She teased, and Ben scowled at Her.

“Shut the fuck up, Sunshine. It’s my goddamn shield, that you pussies-“ Ben pointed an accusing finger at Butcher. “Have fucking owed me for two months.”

“Time wasn’t right, mate,” Butcher said lazily, and Her heart faltered.

“And it’s right now?” She was almost whispering, the wind howling over her words. Even in the darkness, Ben could see the fog begin behind her eyes. “Why?”

“Big mission in four days.” Butcher began to move to the front of the car. “Thought I’d get ahead of it, let Soldier Boy do whatever weird shit he wants with his baby blanket before we have to move.”

Ben’s fury at the baby blanket comment was drowned out by the tap of Her fingers. The blanched, fearful fucking look on Her perfect face. The Thing howled, and Ben’s teeth became gritted.

“What type of shit are you about to make us pull, Butcher?” Ben growled.

Butcher winked. “We’re trying to wrap this circus up soon, Gov. Don’t worry your little mug about it.” Butcher’s attention turned to Her, saying Her name with a smirk. “See you in a few days.”

The car pulled out of the driveway with a screech, and She and Ben were left standing in the night. She looked at Ben with an empty smile as they returned into the house.

“Happy to have your shield back?”

“Should never have left,” Ben gripped it a little tighter as the Thing started to pull him toward her. “The fuck is Butcher planning?”

“What?” She said, blinking at him. “I- I um, I don’t know.”

She wasn’t looking at him, and every movement she had was controlled, mechanical. Ben didn’t fucking believe her. “You sure about that?”

She nodded, making a sound of agreement. Ben was going to push, he was going to ask why she was fucking lying, what she knew and why it was making her act so fucking strange, but She gave a long, stretching yawn, eyes lidded and steps unsteady.

“I’m tired,” She mumbled, leaning into Ben as they moved down the hall. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten,” Ben watched Her give another, loud, fucking adorable yawn, and the Thing felt warm where they touched.

“Few more hours before bed,” She nodded, walking toward the couch. Ben caught Her waist with arm before she could sit.

“You’re going to sleep now, Sunshine.” He placed his shield carefully at the foot of the steps. “You’re going to fucking pass out.”

“No I’m not,” She wiggled a bit, but Ben didn’t budge. “It’s only ten.”

“What time were you up this morning?” He asked dryly.

“What time were you up this morning?” She snapped.

“I fucking asked first.”

She gave him a half-hearted shove. “Nuh uh.”

“Really?” He snorted Her name. “What are you, a fucking child?”

“That’s rich coming from you, Ben.” She was starting to slump against him. “And even if I was, you’re not my fucking dad, you don’t get to give me a bed time.”

“I think you’re giving yourself a bed time, beautiful.” The word slipped out of Ben’s mouth, and the Thing became frozen as She looked up at him.

There was no fucking reason for that to be weird, Ben had called fucking hundreds of women beautiful. She wasn’t any fucking different. Even if She was perfect and leaned into him and looking up at him with sleepy, shining eyes and the Thing wanted to—fucking had to—hold Her like this forever-

“I’m not tired,” Her words were slurred mumbles against Ben, and he chuckled because—before the words had even left Her mouth—she was slumped into him, breathing growing steady with sleep.

Ben carried Her upstairs, laying her carefully on their bed and pulling the blankets up her body. When he drew back up, fucking forcing himself to walk away, back down the stairs, let Her sleep alone like a normal fucking man and not some weak fucking pussy who was scared to leave her side, she made a small sound behind him. When Ben turned, She was splayed out across the mattress, with one hand reaching out to Ben’s side, and frown twisted on Her perfect lips.

“Fuck it,” he muttered to no one, and stalked back to the bed. The Thing’s flailing around inside of him was calmed as Ben pulled Her to his chest, and She gave a small, breathy sigh as Her face returned to a picture of easy content.

Ben fell—lulled by Her heart and gentle breath—into deep sleep.

She was up first. The bed at Ben’s side had already grown cold, but he could hear the shower running through the bathroom door, hear the slow drum of Her heart as she moved. Ben stood and moved down the stairs, aiming to put on the coffee before she finished, only to find a half-full pot and a discarded mug at the counter. Her phone lay, face-down, at the mug’s side and glancing at the sink, there was a dirty plate that had definitely not been there the previous night.

When She arrived in the kitchen—hair damp and face blank—Ben coughed loudly.

“I can see you, Ben.” She moved past him, picking up her phone. “You can just say hi.”

“How long have you been up?” He asked roughly, and She shrugged.

“Few hours. We went to bed early last night, I must’ve gotten all the sleep I needed.”

“You fucking passed out last night,” Ben snapped Her name. “And it is not early. A few hours would mean before the fucking sun.”

She didn’t look up at him. “So?”

“You’re being fucking weird. And you never answered my question last night.”

“What question?” Her voice was flat, bored.

“What the hell is Butcher’s mission? It’s clearly something important, if he decided to give me my fucking shield.”

“I don’t know. Nobody’s told me.”

“I think you’re fucking lying.”

She raised her head, glaring firmly, coldly, at Ben. “I’m not. They don’t tell anything, you fucking know that.”

“I-“

“Nope.” She cut him off, placing her phone on the counter and crossing her arms. “We’re not fighting about this. Doesn’t matter what you think, Benjamin. That’s the fucking truth. Okay?”

Her face was like steel. He hadn’t seen her face like this, blank and controlled and full of so much quiet fury, in fucking months. The Thing was fucking cowering in Ben, like a goddamn pussy. Not afraid, but fucking desperate for her to stop looking at him like that. 

“Fine.” He grunted, and something like relief flashed across Her face. “But you need to fucking promise that if I need to be worried, you’ll tell me.”

“Sure,” She turned to the fridge, and Ben grabbed her arm, turning her to face him.

“Fucking promise.”

She blinked at him, voice a little softer—almost fucking delicate—when she said, “Promise.”

“Good,” He released her, and though the Thing felt no more peace, Ben took the goddamn weak reassurance. “Now eat, we’re training in a hour. Today you’re going to hit all the fucking targets.”

“You have a whole lot of faith in me, Pretty Boy,” She gave him a smile, and even that felt fragile. “Don’t know where the hell it comes from given how dogshit I am at this.”

“You’re getting better,” Ben winked. “Under my masterful fucking guidance.”

“Uh huh,” She snorted. “We’ll see about that.”

Two hours later, after She missed the target for the eleventh time in a row—Ben watching from the edge of the room—he was starting to think she was doing it on purpose.

“You know, if you’re trying to prove a point,” Ben said Her name, giving her an annoyed look. “There are damn better ways to do it.”

“I’m not trying to prove a point,” She snapped. “You’re the one who chose the smallest fucking cup in the world.”

“You hit it yesterday.”

“Shut up,” She missed again, a low noise of frustration sounding from her chest. “God fucking damnit!”

Ben watched Her, lips gnawing and breaths becoming shallow. “Calm the hell down, Sunshine.”

“I am fucking calm.”

“You’re burning a hole in the floor.”

She looked down to where the wood was charred beneath her feet. “Fuck off.” She muttered.

“This whole fucking house is fire-proof.” Ben pushed himself off the wall. “You’re burning like a fucking bomb. What the hell is wrong with you today?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m just having an off day.” Her words were hissed through teeth, and smoke was filling the room.

“You’re sloppy.” He stopped, glowering down at Her. 

She didn’t falter, holding his gaze. “Last time you said that, was anything wrong?”

“Last time you fucking broke down.”

“Do I look like I’m breaking down now?”

“You look like you’re about to collapse.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Hit the fucking target.”

She didn’t break eye-contact as her arm shot out, and Ben looked in time to see the cup—along with the entire damn wall—catch fire.

“That doesn’t count,” he grunted.

“The fuck it doesn’t.”

“You have to only hit the target, brat. That’s the whole goddamn point.”

“Fuck off, you asshole.” She shoved against his chest. “You’re being a cunt on purpose.”

“I’m not the one being fucking insane about ‘nothing’.” Ben mocked. “We’re staying right here until you either admit something is up or hit the target the right fucking way.”

“Fuck you.”

Ben didn’t answer, only held Her glare. The Thing hated this, it hated how fucking strange She was being, how She wouldn’t fucking talk to him, how Her face was all painful shadows and contorted control. But Ben couldn’t fucking break. Couldn’t fucking let it go just to see Her smile. Not when she was tapping and chewing and her eyes were so fucking empty and she wouldn’t tell him why.

The afternoon was long. She didn’t hit a single fucking target, and Ben called it when She started looking like she was about to explode. Ben showered—trying to figure out the fuck to make Her talk—while She continued her practice in the kitchen. When he returned downstairs, Ben found her on the couch, watching the TV with a blank expression.

“Have you calmed the hell down?” He snapped, and the Thing grew thick in his throat when She looked up at him with exhausted, foggy eyes.

“Yeah,” She said softly. “I’m sorry-“ She cut herself off, swallowing heavily. “I promise nothing is wrong. I’m just tired.”

“Because you keep getting up like you’re in the fucking military,” Ben muttered, walking to sit at Her side. “You need fucking sleep.”

She gave a hollow laugh. “Pot, meet kettle.”

“Shut up. It’s not the same.” Ben leaned back. “And I have been sleeping.”

“I know, you snore like a truck.” Her smile this time was a little lighter. “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?” Ben turned to look at Her, and found his face being pulled down, soft hands in his hair. “Right now?” He frowned at her. “It’s late, and you look a little too fucking tired.”

“We missed yesterday.” She said as if it was fucking obvious. “And if you still think it does nothing, you shouldn’t have anything to worry about.”

Ben’s frown turned to a scowl at that. She was too fucking good at backing him into those corners, where She knew he couldn’t respond without her winning. “You think you’re real smart, huh?” 

“I don’t think I’m smart,” She gave him a cocky grin. “I know I’m smart.”

“Brat.”

“Cunt.”

As Her brows drew together in focus, the Thing became strained. Something was fucking wrong. It didn’t matter how many times She denied it, she was more stressed than he’d ever fucking seen Her. Ben racked his brain for a way to ask Her that wouldn’t make her explode, wouldn’t make her shut down or turn away from him. It was an exhausting process, he had no clue how She did this all the time like it was easy, asking careful question and using stupid fucking tricks to bend him to Her will. Admittedly, Ben admired it. It was fucking hot, the small smiles on Her perfect face and how quick her words came. But Jesus fucking Christ, he wished She was worse at it. Especially as he tried to do it himself.

He said Her name slowly. “How did you meet Butcher?”

“What?”

“How did you-“

“I heard you,” She said tightly. “Why are you asking that?”

Ben fought the frown on his face. “Am I not allowed to ask fucking questions?”

“Not weird ones out of the blue.”

“It’s not that damn weird,” he grumbled. “You’ve never told me. Fuck me for being curious how you fell in with a bunch of fucking pussies.”

She sighed. “I escaped Homelander,” her hands gripped his head a little tighter. “They found me. Not much more to say.”

“How did they even know about you?” He searched Her face for any tells, any breaks in her mask.

Her face remained passive, unreadable. “Maeve told Butcher. He told Mallory. They tracked me down.”

“Why didn’t you fucking leave?”

“Leave?”

“The country,” Ben pushed. “Fuck, just the damn East Coast. Why did you stay where you could be found?” 

“You don’t know that I didn’t,” she muttered. “Maybe they found me in Aruba.”

“No, they fucking didn’t.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t know that, you cunt.”

“Answer my question, brat.”

She glared at Ben’s forehead. “I don’t know. I just, the first thing I found out when I escaped was that to everyone in the world, I’d been dead for over two years. I didn’t have anything to go back to.”

“So you should’ve just fucking left-“

“I couldn’t,” She hissed, and Ben felt her hand get warm. “I had nothing, no one. Just a fucking grave that proved I had existed. I was angry and tired and alone. Butcher found me at my grave, because that’s the only place I could be. I didn’t have it in me to leave, because I kept fucking hoping I’d blink and the grave would vanish.”

“Sunshine-“

“They found me, and they offered me a reason. I ‘fell in with them’ because they knew I was alive, and it gave me some sort of fucking value. That’s it.”

Ben placed his hands over Hers, and she finally looked at him. “I think we’re done.”

This time, She didn’t fight, and her voice was so fucking tired when she spoke. “Okay.”

The rest of the night was quiet, and though She was smiling and laughing, the joy felt uneasy, and it never reached her fucking eyes. When She leaned against Ben the Thing became loud, because though she wouldn’t look at him she was gripping his arm like he might vanish. Though She traded teasing words with him, there was no edge of amusement to them, lined only with that flat, rehearsed sound.

She was up first. They had fallen asleep late, Her pressed into the bed by Ben’s arm across her stomach, but She was up first. Ben found Her in the kitchen, sitting with her fingers tapping quickly on the counter. Before he could ask Her what the fuck she was doing up so early again, She looked up and smiled—a real fucking smile with teeth and clear eyes—as he entered the room.

“You’re up!” There were bags under her eyes, hanging heavier than before, but she was really fucking smiling and the Thing was tearing in two. “Finally.”

Ben started at Her. “Finally?” 

She hummed, nodding as she stood and walked to the oven. “Are you ready to have your mind fucking blown, Pretty Boy?”

“What the fuck are you-“ Ben cut himself off as She bent over, pulling out a cheesesteak—a beautiful cheesesteak that smelled fucking good—and turned with a grin.

“I did it.” She said smugly. “I cooked.”

“You’re real fucking pleased with yourself, huh.” Ben raised a brow a Her, and the Thing hummed as she gave a strong, proud nod.

“You’re going to fucking proud of me as well, dummy. I’m a god of this cooking shit.”

Fighting a smile, Ben rolled his eyes. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

She placed the cheesesteak before him, and gave a dramatic bow. “Bon appetit, cunt.” 

Ben expected it to taste like shit. It would’ve been really fucking funny if it tasted like shit, and it would’ve been so fucking easy. He could’ve teased her, or pretended it was fine and not felt the Thing buck around inside of him. But She would never just make shit easy for Ben. He had never met a more impossibly, obnoxiously fucking perfect person who seemed to know how to push every single one of his goddamn buttons. Because, fucking hell and Christ, this cheesesteak was good.

She watched his reaction carefully, eyes a little too wide to be natural. “So?” Her voice was nervous, delicate, and Ben couldn’t fucking force himself to lie.

“It’s good,” he muttered and She blinked.

“So you like it?”

Ben swallowed. “It’s good.”

“You said that,” Her voice was strained. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, Sunshine.” Ben took another large bite, and the words pushed out of him. “It’s fucking amazing. Keep your damn head on.”

Her smile took over her face, and though she didn’t look the slightest bit less exhausted, she looked so fucking thrilled at his words that the Thing fucking whined.

“Great. That’s good. I’m, uh-“ Her face was becoming flushed. “Thanks.”

Ben winked at Her. “You’re going to cook more shit now, right?”

Her heart stumbled, and she looked away. “We’ll see.”

“What if I give you that complete TV control?” Ben said through a mouthful, and She shrugged.

“I can just use my favors for that.”

“You’ll run out,” Ben said pointedly. “You didn’t get any yesterday.”

“I told you, it was just an off day.” She grumbled, and Ben nudged her with his foot, waiting for Her to turn before he spoke.

“If you want to take a break from it, just fucking tell me.”

She stared at him. “You fucking bullied me into this, and now you want me to take a break.”

“You’re exhausted. You’re not going to perform any better.”

 “I’ll be fine.” She snapped. “It was an off day.”

“You don’t have to prove a damn thing to me-“

“I’m not trying to.” She stood upright, moving to the door. “I’m fine, and I’ll perform fine as well.”

Ben examined Her, posture too rigid, face washed out, blinking too fast. “If you don’t, I earn a favor.”

“Deal,” she crossed Her arms. “There’s not a chance in hell you’ll get anything.”

“We’ll see,” Ben said through a mouthful, and She stuck her tongue out at him before marching away.

As he ate, Ben listened to Her move in their room. Her heart was fast—erratic and loud through the floor—until, suddenly, it wasn’t. It grew slower, steady and even, and She had stopped moving. Ben walked carefully up the stairs, abandoning the plate in the kitchen, and opened their door to find Her slumped on the bed. She lay on her side, head against Ben’s pillow, leg angled off the side of the mattress like she’d been knocked out. Her eyes were fluttering slightly, her breaths coming long and deep, and Ben realized he hadn’t seen Her sleep like this a fucking week. With a peaceful face, completely taken in rest. Every perfect feature of her face was blissful, somehow more beautiful with the push of pain. The Thing was filled with a foreign fucking adoration, and Ben couldn’t stop himself from carefully pulling a blanket over Her body, flipping off lights and closing curtains until there was nothing that could disturb Her. He paused before leaving the room, watching Her like a pussy fucking creep, but he could’t bring himself not to.

The Thing wanted to touch Her, Ben wanted to touch her, and the only thing that kept him from pulling her to his side was fear of waking her. This—Her sleeping without restraint—was more fucking important that the Thing and it’s stupid goddamn need.

Ben returned to the kitchen, finishing the cheesesteak and trying not to dwell on the ache of the Thing to return to Her. Just be there, near Her, if she fucking needed anything. She had to sleep, sure, but that didn’t mean Ben couldn’t fucking be there. What if She woke up, and was ready to tell him what had been bothering her. What Butcher was planning. What if She fucking cried, what if she needed him, just him. Not any food or comfort or help but just him. 

He found himself in front of the TV, no attention on the show playing. Only Her breathing, only her heart. Any flutter or staggered sound made Ben’s whole fucking body tense, and though no drums sounded, it felt painfully fucking similar, like the slightest break in Her was a break in him.

When he heard the first scream, Ben had never moved so fucking fast in his life. He tore up the stair, kicking the door clean off its hinges, and a rush of fire blew past him into the hall. Ben’s blood turned cold as he moved into the room, his heart pounding in his chest.

She was floating off the bed, thrashing like she’d been fucking possessed. Everywhere around her was fire, covering her body and pushing at the walls. She was screaming, no breaks in the horrible fucking sound for breath. Her eyes looked screwed shut, her jaw hanging open and body fighting something Ben couldn’t see.

He launched himself at Her, trying to avoid her flailing hands—curled into claws and scratching at the air—as he shook her awake. He roared Her name, and she rose higher off the bed, back arching and fire growing. She looked like she was being tortured, screeching words Ben couldn’t understand and making deep, guttural sounds of agony. Ben could feel his skin burning—searing and scarring and raw—but grabbed Her roughly and pulled her down from the air. He couldn’t wake Her up, her eyes wouldn’t fucking open, the screams wouldn’t stop-

Ben did the only thing he could think of—deciding She could give him all the hell in the world for it and it wouldn’t change a goddamn thing—and slapped Her. Not hard enough to break Her, holding his strength back from leaving even a temporary mark, but enough to make it sting. Enough to make her eyes shoot open, make Her breathe ragged and sharp gasp as she fell fully onto Ben.

Tears were turning to steam in Her eyes and the screams became weak and desperate scrambles for air. She was clinging to Ben with flaming nails in his skin, but he didn’t give a goddamn fuck, because all that mattered was Her. Awake, choked on sobs and burning, but awake. Ben would let Her melt his fucking skin off if it helped, if it meant he would never have to hear her scream again.

Ben wasn’t sure how much time passed before She finally spoke, words pushed from her throat and so quiet he almost didn’t hear them.

“Why-“ She took a pained breath, hands fisted in Ben’s shirt. “Why did you let me sleep?”

“You passed out,” he said Her name in a low tone. “You fucking needed it.”

She shook her head. “You should’ve woken me up.”

“Did you not hear me say you passed out?” Ben’s voice raised slightly, holding Her tightly against him. “You looked like shit, like you hadn’t slept in days-“

“On purpose!” She pushed at his chest, voice high and unsteady. “I couldn’t sleep, I can’t sleep! I won’t let myself or-“

Ben narrowed his eyes as she cut Herself off with a miserable sound, something furious build in him as Her head fell into him.

“Or what?” He asked firmly, and She shook her head.

“Nothing.” Her voice was a whisper, and Ben pulled her back, holding her head so she was looking at him.

“Or what?” This time the words were louder, angrier. She had been fucking hiding something, and if it was something that reduced Her to this, he wouldn’t fucking let it go or bend anymore. Ben was going to know what was fucking wrong, if She wouldn’t tell him, he’d torture it out of Butcher by hand.

“I can’t-“ She shook her head frantically, and Ben  grabbed it between his hands. “I can’t tell you.”

“Yes, you fucking can."

“No, you don’t understand, I- I can’t, you’ll-“ She choked on another sob, and the Thing was roaring inside him.

“I’ll what?” Ben said Her name through teeth. “What the fuck is wrong-“

She made a desperate whimper, trying to pull from him. “You’ll try to-“ Her breaths were shallow and short. “Can’t-“

“Look at me.” Ben lowered his voice, even as he tightened his grip.

“No-“

The Thing was like stone in him, running a cold, angry resolve through Ben’s body. “If you think for one goddamn fucking second that I’ll let something hurt you, you’re a lot more stupid than I thought.”

“You won’t- you can’t-“

“Stop fucking saying that.” He snapped, and another weak sound fell from Her mouth. “Just, fuck, please.” He traced soft circles on Her face, and her heart slowed slightly. “Fucking look at me Sunshine. Just look at me.”

Finally, She did. The lingering fire went out as she met his eyes, blinking away heavy tears.

“What’s wrong.”

“I can’t tell you.” She whispered, and Ben shook his head.

“You need to fucking tell me. I can’t do anything if you don’t-"

“I know." Her eyes were so sad, she looked damn haunted. “That’s why I can’t tell you.”

“You need to make some goddamn sense.”

She sighed. “I can’t.”

“Try.”

“No, Ben. I can’t. I won’t. This isn’t something you can fix.”

He said Her name slowly. “Either you tell me now, or we sit here until you come to your fucking senses.”

“I-“

“You just woke up screaming and set the whole fucking bedroom on fire.” He roared, unable to care if his voice was loud and cruel. “You’ve been lying to me that everything is fine, but it’s clearly fucking not, so if you don’t start talking right fucking now I’ll-“ Ben took a deep, furious breath, dropping his head against Hers. “Just fucking tell me, goddamnit. You’re making me feel fucking sick, so please tell me.”

She pressed her head to his, and Ben wasn’t sure either of them were breathing. “You’ll try and stop me,” Her volume was barely a fucking sound. “If I tell you, you’ll try to stop me, and I can’t let you.”

He said Her name, and she shook her head, leaning back.

“I can’t let anything stop me. This is it. I can’t tell you or you’ll stop me, I can’t tell Annie or Hughie or MM because they’ll stop me. I can’t sleep because I’ll lose my nerve and stop myself. And I can’t let that happen.”

“I-“

She cut Ben off again, red eyes searching his as she placed her hands over where Ben held her face.

“This is the only way. So I can’t let anything stop me.”

Ben started at Her, the Thing squeezing at his throat. “Tell me.” 

“Ben-“

“You aren’t fucking leaving this room until you get real fucking specific about whatever shit you’re about to pull.”

She only sighed. “I told you-“

He hissed Her name. “I have some fucking news for you, Sunshine. Whatever it is, I’m stopping you. If it’s a gambit to steal Butcher’s kid, if it a play to trap Sage, if it’s some sort of self-sacrificial bullshit-“

Her heart faltered, so subtly, but Ben caught it. She started to shake her head, but he didn’t waver, keeping her perfect, tragic face aimed at his own.

“What the fuck are you about to do.” He growled, and a small sob left Her. “And don’t say you can’t tell me or it doesn’t matter or lie or apologize. Say the fucking truth,” Ben’s voice became weak, desperate, pathetic as he said Her name. But he had to know. He might fucking die if he didn’t. “Please. Just tell the fucking truth.”

The second before She spoke was the longest of Ben’s life. It was hell, because if she lied it would rip the Thing apart, would rip him apart. She was watching him, hands still holding Ben’s, and when the silence broke with Her unsteady inhale—worlds falling out of her like vomit—Ben time move once more, all too fast.

“The Ryan plan. It’s the Ryan plan. It’s the only safe way to get him out, get him away. Safe. Get proof, undeniable proof of what Homelander is. What he’s capable of doing, what he’s done. Becca Butcher files, and-"

“You.” Ben said, blood running cold.

“Me.”

“And how, fucking how, did you plan on getting close enough to tell him.” Ben spat, and She wouldn’t look him in the fucking eyes.

“The only definite way.”

“Fucking say it.”

“Let Home-“ She made a weak, hollow, broken sound. “Let Homelander take me."

This was hell. Ben was fucking certain of it. This was some sort of punishment, where he got to have Her only to lose her. He wouldn’t lose her. He couldn’t lose her. Not if it was something like his, something unnecessary and so fucking stupid. There was no longer a divide in Ben between his rage and that of the Thing. Every fiber of his body was in a consuming fucking chant, a certain answer to what he had to do.

“No.”

She shook her head. “It’s not-“ 

“No.” Ben’s voice was firmer, louder. “Not a fucking chance in hell.”

“I’m not asking.” Her voice was still empty, but more firm with the anger creeping onto her face. “You don’t get to tell me what-“

“We fucking promised.” Ben growled. “We aren’t going back. So no.”

“You don’t get to stop me, Ben.” She spat. “I’m fucking doing it.”

“Would you let me go back under, for some bullshit, pointless fucking plan?”

She scowled. “Of course not, but this isn’t-“

“It’s the exact fucking same!” Ben pulled himself from Her completely. “You’re not doing this, not while I’m fucking alive and able to do something about it!”

“You don’t tell me what I can do!” She screamed. “This is the only way, and I’m fucking doing it!”

“NO!” He roared. “You don’t get to fucking give yourself to him like you’re a fucking pawn.”

“I am a pawn!” She screamed. “I’m the only way in, the only way to save Ryan, get him the fuck away so you can do your fucking job and kill him.”

“Do you really think that I’d just let you go?” He hissed. “Do you seriously fucking believe that Homelander would take you and I wouldn’t fucking burn everything to get you away from him.”

“I’m not your fucking responsibility. Protecting me isn’t your job-“

“I don’t give a fucking shit about your plans or Butcher’s plans or my job. I give a shit about you.” Ben could hear the drums in the distance, but it didn’t fucking matter. Nothing fucking mattered except Her. “You burn, I burn. You’re not fucking burning without me, so no.”

She stared at Ben, and all the anger was gone, replaced by a look he couldn’t fucking understand. “Ben-“

“No.” He snapped, extending his hand. “Give me your phone.”

“My phone?”

“I’m calling your team. We’re going to come up with a plan that’s not fucking stupid.”

“My plan-“

“Isn’t going to happen. You’re going to sleep, and I’m going to stay right fucking here until we come up with a new fucking plan.”

She glared at him. “If you lock me in this room, I’ll fucking-“

“Stop being so fucking dramatic, I’m not locking you anywhere. Wherever you go, I go. I won’t leave your side for a fucking second, not until I know you won’t try and go through with this idiotic idea.” Ben flexed his hand. “Give me your phone.”

She let out a shaky sigh, tilting her head. “You’re serious.”

“As goddamn cancer.”

She watched him—Ben still couldn’t fucking read that expression on Her perfect face—looking for something She seemed to find with a small nod. When She placed her phone in Ben’s hands it felt like the world finally started moving again.

“I’m sorry.” She said softly, keeping her hand over the phone in Ben’s palms. “I’m really-“

“No apologies.” Ben said, closing his fingers around Hers. “Go sleep.”

“Can you-“

“After I call.”

She hummed carefully, walking to the bed. When She didn’t lie down—only sitting at the headboard with her arms wrapped around her body—Ben raised his brows.

“I won’t-“ She swallowed. “I won’t sleep if you’re not here.”

Ben blinks. “Oh.”

“I can wait-“ She cut herself off as Ben dropped on his side of the mattress.

“I can talk while sitting,” he said dryly. “Sleep.”

All the fight and pain seemed to drain from Her at once with Ben’s words, and she almost fell into his side as sleep overtook Her. Ben slung his arm over Her shoulder, and for the first time that day the Thing breathed.

Ben managed to get her phone open himself, and found Butcher’s contact with much more ease than last time. It took him a second to figure out the difference between cell and work, but when it began to ring Ben held it to his ear, grinding his teeth as Butcher took his sweet fucking time to pick up.

“Oi, Love. We ain’t supposed to be talking for another two days-“

“We need to fucking talk Butcher.” Ben growled. “Change of plans, She’s not doing your dirty work. If you and your pussy ass team aren’t here by tomorrow afternoon to figure out something new, all deals are off. Do you fucking understand?”

There was silence for only a second. “I don’t know what-“

“Don’t bullshit me. Tomorrow afternoon, or I walk.”

“I don’t take any bloody orders from you, Gov. And you can’t just fuckin walk-“

“Fucking try me.” Ben hissed, and didn’t wait for Butcher’s response to hang up.

————

The day was long. You slept, really slept, for the first time in a week. No nightmares, no fire, no vigilante methods to keep yourself awake. Ben wouldn’t let you out of his sight, except to use the bathroom. And even then you’d have to talk the whole time so he knew you were there. He didn’t trust you, and you didn’t blame him. He won’t look at you, he keeps ignoring your apologies, and the Feeling can’t stand it. It’s killing you. He’s barely spoken, except in one-word answers to questions. 

“When will the team be here?” You ask nervously.

“Evening.” He says coldly, and that’s all you get.

Now you’re wrapped in a blanket, sitting quietly on the stairs as everyone fights around you. Most of your view of the team was blocked by Ben—who had planted himself firmly at the foot of the stairs—but you could hear it all.

 “Wait,” Annie says slowly. “So was this her plan, or Butcher’s?”

 “Sounds like a Butcher plan.” MM mutters, and Butcher scoffs.

“This was all her,” he snaps your name. “I was just enjoying the ride.”

“When did you even come up with this?” Hughie asks, and you catch a glimpse of his worried face as he tries to lean around Ben and address you.

Ben promptly moves to block him once more. “Don’t fucking talk to her, you fucking pussy.”

“I’m just-“

“Five steps back, Cocksucker, before I make you.”

“Ben,” you mumble, standing up and walking to be directly behind him. “It’s fine.”

“Listen to Sunshine, Gov.” Butcher sneers. “It’s fine.”

You glower at him over Ben’s shoulder. “Stuff it, Butcher.”

“I still don’t really understand,” Annie speaks over the venomous looks you and Butcher are exchanging. “Does Mallory know about this?”

“No,” you sigh. “Only Butcher and I. That was the point, no possible leaks that would tell Homelander it was a trap.”

“And the Becca files-“

You cut Hughie off. “I would’ve hidden them on myself.”

“Homelander would’ve seen them, no?” Frenchie frowned. “X-ray vision.”

“I had Butcher buy a tampon-shaped USB.”

Annie’s face wrinkles at your words. “That’s… Disgusting.”

“By the way,” Butcher interjects. “If we ain’t going through with this, you owe me forty.”

“There’s no way in hell you’re going through with this, Butcher.” MM snaps. “You two-“ he waves a hand between you and Butcher. “Are motherfucking idiots, who knew how insane this plan was and didn’t tell us because there’s not a single fuckin universe where we’d let you go through with it.”

“I don’t know why I’m takin all the bloody blame for her plan-“

“Because she’s on strike one!” Annie shouts. “This is strike fifty for you, asshole! There’s a reason she went to you, because is your exact brand of fucking shit!”

“Ooo,” Butcher mocks. “Church girl using some vulgar fuckin words, I’m shaking in my sketchers.”

Hughie says your name, pleading. “You have to have known this was a bad idea. Why-“

“It was, it is-“ You see Ben’s jaw clench in front of you. “The best way to get Ryan away from Homelander at his own will. There’s no tangible records of me, or anything that Homelander did to me.”

Annie frowns. “What about a witness-“

“There are none. I, I-“ Fire itches under your skin as memories of white lab coats covered in ash flash in your head, clearing suddenly as Ben leans back, his hand moving to brush your knee. “I killed all of them. When I escaped.” You swallow. “It was an accident-“

“Were there rotating guards?” Ben turns to look at you, eyes narrowed in a look of stop apologizing.

“I think so.” You mutter. 

“Then that’s it. We find one of those fucking pussies, get them to testify or give us some fucking proof.”

You shake your head. “Homelander might have killed them-“

“Maybe he did.” Ben shrugs. “And we’ll find another fucking way. You’re not throwing yourself in front of this stupid fucking train,” he says your name, holding your gaze like no one else is in the room. “That’s it.”

MM coughs your name, and your attention is ripped from Ben. “Are we going to need to put some security on you-”

“She’s not leaving my side.” Ben snaps, and MM glares at him.

“I didn’t fucking ask you, Soldier Boy.”

“I’ll be fine,” you say, giving MM a reassuring nod as you notice the muscles of Ben’s back growing tense. “I promise. Just, please, keep me updated.” Your voice is desperate. You don’t care. “Tell me what you find, even if it’s nothing.”

MM nods. “You’ll stay here?”

“I swear it.”

The teams leave, and it’s just you and Ben, alone.

“Ben, please-“ Almost the moment the door closes you’re begging, chasing Ben as he walk away from you and up the stairs. You just need him to say something, anything that makes you sure he doesn’t hate you.

“Stop it,” He grunts your name, not turning. “Just, fucking stop it.”

“I’m sorry-“

“I don’t want your apologies.” He snaps. “I’m not mad.”

“Yes you are-“

“No, I’m not.” He whips around, and still catches you before fall into him. You feel it. He’s not mad, but something is pushing around in his heart. It’s painful, and it’s so much worse. “I’m mad at Butcher, I’m mad at Homelander. I’m not fucking mad at you.”

“Why?” You can’t help but whisper. “I lied.”

Ben sighs, eyes boring into yours. “Because it’s you.” He grunts, and the Feeling keens. “Too fucking kind for your own good, too fucking smart as well, even if that was the most stupid shit I’ve ever heard.”

“So,” you don’t think you can breathe. “You forgive me.”

“I wasn’t mad at you, Sunshine. I’m fucking furious that you thought this was a good idea, that you weren’t going to tell me. But you didn’t betray me. So we’re square.”

“Nothing would’ve happened to you,” the words are blurted, because you need him to know. “The plan was you’d just be locked in here alone, and Butcher would have Frenchie make something for when you had to leave. I wasn’t ever going to put you back under.”

“I know. I trust you.”

And you feel that too. He does.

“You don’t hate me,” you say, one more time. It’s barely a question, but Ben answers anyway.

“I don’t hate you.”

“You give a shit about me,” you repeat his words from last night carefully, the Feeling desperate to hear him say it again.

He grunts, and you feel his heart turn. “I give a shit about you.”

“And your offer? To go with you?”

“What about it?”

“It’s still an offer?”

“Did I say it wasn’t?”

“No, but you might not have been sure and-”

He cuts you off with your name. “Do you trust me?” When you nod, you can feel his heart, tense and hot. “Then believe me when I tell you that I meant it. No pussying out.”

“No pussying out.” You echo. “Ben?” He frowns, eyes holding yours, so you continue. “I give a shit about you, too.”

A smile pulls his lips. “You as well.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, and you’re also smiling. “Stop using my own lessons against me.”

“Stop teaching me shit.” He teases. “It never ends well for either of us.”

“What if, what if we learn stuff together?”

“Sunshine, if you’re about to suggest I go back to fucking school-“

“No, dumbass,” you laugh softly. “You can’t cook either. We have our one, shitty cookbook. I’ll keep learning if you do it with me.”

Ben narrows his eyes. “Why? What are you going to make me do?”

“I just want to do something together that isn’t about life or death.” You mumble, looking anywhere but him. “I’m not trying to make you do anything. If you don’t want-“

“Fucking fine.” You turn sharply, unsure you heard him correctly. “Whatever.”

“So you’ll do it?” He grunts a sound you know to be begrudging affirmation, and your smile grows wide as you extend your hand.

“I’m not fucking shaking on it.”

“Do it or I’ll never make cheesesteak again.”

He scowls, grumbling something about blackmail, but shakes your hand roughly. You expect him to let go—pull away and keep being gruff and quiet—but instead Ben pulls you into him, holding you caged, warm, safe in his arms. You hold onto him, because if he lets go your legs might give out and the Feeling is soft and content here. You don’t know how long you’re standing there before Ben speaks, and you feel the words rumble in his chest as he does.

“You need sleep.”

He’s right, and you don’t have anything in you to fight, so you just nod. Ben picks you up, fully off the ground, and carries you into your room. As he places you on the bed he tries to let go, but you hold him tighter, pulling him until his head is next to yours.

“What if I have a nightmare,” you say softly in his ear.

“Are they-“

“About Homelander. All of them.”

“Then I’ll wake you up, and we’ll watch TV or some shit.” Ben says firmly.

“You won’t leave?”

“You couldn’t force me away.”

You believe him. You can feel it, the stone resolution and the pure fucking care. Both, somehow, for you. He’s still touching you, and the Feeling is peaceful. It never wants him to let go.

“Okay,” you yawn, and your body is already growing numb.

“Goodnight, beautiful.” You hear him say right before sleep catches you.

End Note: As we reach 10 chapters, 100k words, and 1 month, I just want to pause and say that I am so, so thankful for you guys. I can’t believe the love and support everyone has given this fic, or properly articulate how amazing this has been for me. I don’t think I’ve had so much fun writing in years, and I honestly didn’t think people would even read this. Every time you guys engage with my little story it means the whole fucking world to me. Every comment or interaction is everything to me, you don’t even know. Thank you, thank you, thank you again, and I’ll see everyone next time for the much less angsty chapter 11. In the mean time, let me know your thoughts! <3

Taglist: @lordofthunderthr @kritara @sukunassfinger, @justiceforquentin @acciditties

@c1gs-coffee @manicjk @artemys-ackles, @a-cup-of-nightshade, @bitchykittenconnoisseur

@fghj18

Want to be tagged? Just ask!

[zorosimpclub]

online friends? – Zoro SFW

characters: zoro roronoa x fem!reader

fluff | SFW

word count: 2.7k

She grumbled under her breath, fingers gliding across the console as she delved into the game with her online friends. It was an all-guy gang, which is why she chose to keep her mic on mute. Sure, she interacted with them, but it was through the safety net of the chat lobby. Using the mic felt like opening a can of worms—better to let them assume she was just another dude. After all, did it really matter? Online, she went by the name 'Solar' to keep a comfortable distance from revealing her real identity.

Zoro's voice blasted through the mic, cutting through the virtual battlefield. "Oi! Solar, what the hell was that?!"

She laughed to herself, Zoro was so easy to annoy. She just kept following his avatar around instead of actually playing the game, it was so fun to mess with him.

Reluctantly, she found herself acknowledging a truth she wasn't eager to admit – there was an undeniable allure and charm to Zoro's voice. It was deep, soothing and downright hypnotising – it sent a shiver down her spine. His words carried a certain charisma that managed to captivate even in the midst of a virtual battle. And if his display picture was any indication, his face was just as attractive as his voice.

With a silent sigh, she pondered the weirdness of being drawn to someone purely based on their virtual presence. How is that normal? She thought.

"Oh, that's great," he growled, but couldn't help the annoyed laugher as he tried to dodge her attempts at disrupting him. "Play the damn game asshole!”

Sanji piped up from his headset, “Shut up mosshead, you’re distracting the rest of us.”

"You shut up, shitty cook! And Solar man, play the damn game I said!" Zoro quickly got bored of being chased around by her avatar and instead started chasing her character.

She huffed and made her avatar run away from Zoro. It was times like these she wished she could just switch her mic on and partake in the banter with her gaming crew, but alas, they didn't know that she was a woman...yet.

Usopp's voice echoed through the mic, a mischievous tone evident in his words. "Oooo Zoro and Solar, sitting in a tree. Get a room guys, bleugh."

He couldn’t deny the fact that their countless midnight texts had gotten him to form somewhat of a crush on ‘Solar’. Solar just… got him. But he quickly shoved any thoughts of it advancing past online buddies because the thought of being in love with a person who he had never seen let alone heard seemed absurd to him.

A chorus of laughter erupted from the rest of the crew. She rolled her eyes at Usopp's teasing, her fingers still deftly navigating the game controls to keep her avatar one step ahead of Zoro's relentless pursuit.

Zoro, not one to back down, retorted with a gruff, "Shut it, Usopp! Stop making shit awkward, Solar is probably a 60 year old man."

Sanji spoke up quickly, "Yeah and he'd still be out of your league dumbass."

She chuckled under her breath, contemplating whether it was time to break her silence and join in on the banter.

"God, you guys are annoying." he groaned as he paused the game, turning to face his screen as if he would be able to see them through it. They were assholes, but she couldn't help but laugh at their comments, especially the one Sanji directed at Zoro.

He was so caught up in his frustration that he didn't notice her pausing the game. Maybe it was time to finally let them know who she was...

In a moment of bold spontaneity, she reached for the mic attached to her headset, her fingers hesitating for a split second before gripping it firmly. With a swift motion, she unmuted herself, the subtle click signalling the end of her silence.

"I can assure you that I'm not a 60 year old man." She spoke, feigning confidence. This was the first time the guys realised that she was in fact, a woman.

Zoro froze at her voice, she sounded so...soft-spoken. His heart jumped in his chest as he quickly put two and two together.

He didn't know what to say at first, his whole vocabulary had gone out the window as he stared at his screen.

"W-what did you say?" He finally let out, sounding like an idiot.

Luffy piped up, cutting Zoro’s sentence short, “Wait, is this why you didn’t want to talk on the mic?”

“Yes.”

“Huh…it doesn’t matter who you are to us, you kick ass on the daily, you didn’t have to worry about us reacting in a negative way…c’mon Solar, I thought you knew us by now.”

“My love, I bet you’re as beautiful as you sound – I am extremely blessed to be talking to you right now.”

“Oi shut up Sanji! Stop being creepy. This is probably why she didn’t want to tell you.” Usopp snapped but laughed into the mic.

A soft laughter escaped her lips, and with each gentle chuckle, the tension that had nestled in her nerves seemed to wash away quickly. She couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed about the whole situation, her cheeks growing flushed at the teasing from her friends. Thankfully, they had taken the news well and didn’t treat her any differently, well, besides Sanji. The other men laughed at him, his excessive flirting, making her let out another soft chuckle.

Zoro felt as though he could breathe again as her laughter filled his ears. The way that she laughed caused his chest to ache, a smile spreading across his face as he focused on her voice.

"Why the silence, Zoro?" she teased quietly.

Part of her still felt a little nervous, was he going to be awkward? Is this going to change their midnight texting ritual now that he knew she was a woman? Surely it shouldn't matter? But why was he being quiet? Her heart sunk slightly at the thought of losing his friendship.

Zoro's mouth opened and closed, like a fish out of water, he didn't know how to respond. She had just caught him off guard, his brain didn't really register what was happening at the moment.

He tried to find his voice but ended up stuttering instead. In all honesty, he felt like everything that he could've said at that moment would've been cheesy or just made him look like an idiot.

Before he could respond Luffy spoke up, "Alright crew, I'm logging off. I have work tomorrow." Which was followed by a chorus of 'same' from the rest of the group.

She frowned at the screen when they all left the lobby, was Zoro going to leave too?

"I...guess I'll log off too," he finally let out, his eyes drifting to the exit button. But a spark flared within his heart, making him pause his action.

Instead, he muted himself and waited. She raised her brow and bit her bottom lip, feeling nervous. Why didn’t he leave?

"Hey? You still here, Zoro?”

For a solid ten seconds, Zoro didn't respond, causing her to grow anxious in the silence. Surely he was just busy with his exit button? Then why hadn't he left yet?

"Yo." He finally let out, just as the silence turned awkward. Her head shot back at her screen, surprised to find him still there.

"So..." She started, not knowing what to say to him, not wanting to stop talking to him either.

And neither did he. Zoro's fingers hovered over the mouse, the cursor hovering over the close button. But he couldn't bring himself to press it.

He wanted to continue their conversation, to hear more of her voice.

"So, you still wanna talk?" He finally asked, hoping she would say yes.

"...yes." She squeaked awkwardly. Why on earth was she feeling so nervous? This is ridiculous she thought.

"Uh..." Zoro couldn't help but chuckle, she was obviously flustered. How he enjoyed hearing the sweet tone of her voice. She was so adorable.

"You sound nervous." He let out, making her cheeks grow hot.

"I do not!" She protested, "I'll have you know, I am perfectly okay.”

"Yeah? We both know you're lying." he teased, and she could almost hear the smirk on his voice.

"You sound nervous, don't deny it. Hey, it's alright to be flustered around this hunk of a man." he teased, making her blush darker.

"Ha! Hunk of a man? You're probably not the most attractive, but that's okay, we all still love you very much Zoro." She retorted, obviously she knew was most likely attractive.

He had to be, his profile picture was of a green haired man's side profile (which she had assumed was him).

He laughed loudly at her comeback, and her cheeky tone only caused his smile to widen. She took no bullshit from him, and he admired that about her.

“What makes you think that I’m not attractive?” He challenged. The man knew he was a walking thirst trap but he liked his ego stroked every once in a while.

"Just a hunch." She laughed into the headset and looked up at her bedroom ceiling.

"Oh yeah?" His tone rose, trying to challenge her.

"Why don't we bet on it? I show you what I look like, and if I'm not attractive then you leave the call. But if you do find me attractive, then you have to give in to one request of mine.”

"And what is your request exactly?" She asked quietly, the thought of seeing him making her feel giddy.

"You'll have to wait and find out. Besides, that's the fun part of a bet, isn't it?" He was being cheeky, knowing that her curiosity would have her agree.

"Ugh, fine!”

"Okay then, you ready to see me or what?" He teased, feeling a rush from the banter they were having.

"Hurry up, I can't wait to be proven right." She laughed, knowing very well she was wrong. She wanted to see him.

He chuckled and clicked the camera button on his computer, allowing his webcam to run as the screen switched to him. Her heart hammered in her chest when she focused her eyes on the screen in front of her. It took a few seconds before the image stabilised, revealing him, and his gorgeous face. He had short green hair that fell in all the right places and piercing eyes which went hand in hand with a lopsided smirk.

For a lack of better words, he was hot. She felt her cheeks heat up further in response, thanking the stars that he couldn't see her reaction.

“So, I take it you lost the bet?" He let out the question in a sarcastic tone, confident in his own attractiveness.

He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side slightly as he waited for a response from her, smirk still on his face. Her compliment would be nice, but just her being speechless would have to suffice.

She coughed to bring her thoughts to a halt, and clear her throat. "Fine, you win. What was the request?”

"I get to choose anything I want you to do with zero objection from you." he said smugly, the corner of his lips curling up into a sly grin.

"Uhuh. What is it?" She somehow already felt like she knew what was coming.

"I want you to be my date for a night." He teased, letting out a chuckle as he spoke.

Okay, she didn’t know that this was what was coming. He knew she'd roll her eyes at him for even suggesting. How was what he said even logical? They had just found out a more personal part of their lives, it would've been silly to be talking about dating.

"You don't even know how I look like." She deadpanned but her hands were shaking from the adrenaline.

Zoro chuckled, the sound coming through the headset sounding rather amused. "So, does that mean you won't even consider my request?" He playfully feigned hurt, placing his hand on his chest, flexing his arm muscles in the process (she couldn’t help but realise how built he was).

Besides, you and I both know there was more to this than just a friendship… the way we texted past midnight everyday? C’mon sweetheart.”

He was right, even before the face and voice reveal, there was definitely something brewing between them. She would tell him about her fears and dreams, him doing the same. Up until now it was just a faceless friendship, but even she couldn't deny how quickly it had progressed in the past hour or so.

"C’mon, let's get a little more intimate with this now that you know what I look like." he said smoothly, leaning forward a little and giving her a smirk.

"W-what?"

He threw his head back and laughed, he was so mesmerising – she needed to hear more of him, see more of him.

"Not like that, I meant, let me see how you look like." he said, grinning from ear to ear hoping she'd agree.

Zoro smirked at her stutter, it was obvious that she was trying not to blush. He had her right where he wanted her.

"Oh sweetheart, you know you want to. Don't hide from me now.” he continued teasingly, feeling the butterflies in his stomach begin to flutter at the playful bantering.

She held her breath and hovered her cursor over the show webcam button for a bit before biting the bullet to turn it on. She smiled and gave an awkward wave and bit down on her lip, not knowing how to interact with him. "Hey Zoro.”

Zoro paused upon her appearance on the screen, his smirk suddenly falling from his face. There she was- the woman that he had come to have feelings for even without the knowledge of each other’s appearance.

Her beauty was otherworldly, and her smile made her look absolutely irresistible.

"Fuck, you’re beautiful."

He let out the compliment without thinking, and then quickly paused. Why did he say that? It was just a compliment, but it sounded so...intimate.

Her eyes shot up at her camera and she blushed intensely, stuttering a soft thank you. He chuckled upon seeing her blush. How could someone be so cute? Her features are gorgeous but her personality is what made her even more attractive, she was cheeky but also shy. It was something that he couldn't resist.

"God, you're adorable when you blush." he teased, his tone teasing and playful, almost seductive.

"S-shut up." She looked away feeling embarrassed as a small smile graced her lips.

"I could keep teasing you like this all night, you know? It's a shame we're online and not in person, seeing you get all flustered like this makes me want to make you do things that make you blush more." he said in a teasing tone.

She gasped and hid her face in her hands, never did she expect her evening to go like this when she revealed her voice.

"Oh get your mind out the gutter woman, I meant I'll give you the tightest hug, which'll make you blush." He grinned, knowing that he definitely meant it in the way she imagined.

“So what do you say to that date? I remember you telling me you’re 30 mins away from me.”

She nodded, not knowingly trusting her voice to answer. She knew it would come out all stuttery and shaky.

"Then it's settled. We'll go out on Saturday evening, at the city centre station at 6PM sharp." He smirked, feeling satisfied with himself and how everything had turned out, her shyness aside.

With a new found confidence, she nodded again, this time with a smile. “It’s a date.”

–

part 2 >

[maccaronimassacre]

kind of cheesy but jock!leon x nerd!reader .. leon has a huge super obvious crush on reader but they don't notice bc they think he's out of their league

Jock!Leon Kennedy x Nerd!Reader

It’s dumb, ridiculous, stupid even for Leon to be feeling this way, yet he just can’t help it. The same star athlete with the looks and charisma to charm any man or woman within a 20 foot radius is now falling harder than Icarus himself. Normally all Leon would need to do is throw a smile and a slightly flirtatious comment to get what he wants, but just one glance from you is all it takes for his heart to start racing and his mind to melt into a flustered mess beneath him. And here he is now, pretending to fish out his textbooks and look deeply engrossed in the inner mechanisms of his locker, which conveniently enough happens to be right by yours, all because of that damn smile of yours.

[mihwee]

"I'll never admit it, You Fucking Lunatic."

Omniscient Readers Viewpoint

Pairings; Yoo Joonghyuk × Top!M!Reader

s.p: yoo joonghyuk was a known man for jealousy, atleast for you, and you find that one of the many things you find disgusting about him. Always so rude... so— dislikeable. You were a man that usually hates flings that cling onto you like some kind of leech. Knowing damn well it was just a one night thing. But yoo joonghyuk. I guess, a main character has its perks. Especially on charisma. That you even find his jealousy quite endearing.

On recent ocassions, you'll find a survivor you somehow like. then ofcourse yoo joonghyuk will "hate" that person as the same level as you. Becoming more irritable at his unpredictable behaviour, the usual glaring spiraled into a fight, and to a suprising turn of events.

sucks to know dokja coudnt stop this arguement from happening.

Warning: reader implied same height, reader and yjh implied as enemies/rivals , hate sex, secret admiration, degradation, no dom/sub roles (???) You both go feral. No spoilers for novel / anything above the webtoon chapters ^^ so everyone can enjoy, also dokja always breaks the fight between you two, so it doesnt end up as a half assed battle to the constellations. Tried to proofread 🤞

Tags: Choking, Ass grabbing, Thigh gripping, lots of gripping and biting, heavy cussing/degradation , No protection, sharp teeth, one shot. No plot/what plot? Slight ooc bc people go crazy when their ab to cum LMAOO

Dni: minors under the age of 16 do not request, minors under 14 in general DNI

Notes: hope its up to your liking, crack summary is that you both fuck with seething anger bcs yjhs fuckbuddy payed attention to smone else, dont know how to explain it but jealousy is (obviously) involved

"Hm, ofcourse." You smiled. As the person you recently saved hugged closer, much more comfortable than they were earlier. shivering, well, you though to yourself. At that small stature, even shorter than han sooyoung, you even doubt if they'll survive if it wasnt for you. "Thank you, mister." Said brunette.

as they gripped onto the oversized cloth you've given them, you saw yoo joonghyuks mocking stare from a seat over. You scoffed, glaring back at him. Hes doing this stupid shit again, where he starts something for no reason. And it somehow always you that he argues with. With dokja and the others, he seems cold. But christ when it comes to you even coming a step closer— he always has something to say, As if you just didnt fuck his brains out a month ago.

the campfire crackled, as the leaves rustled at the mightnight air. Dokja discussed with others on how they should move forward, and make haste. the scenarios condition doesnt look good, to add to that, you saving a random and basic person off the streets was something that added up to yoo joonghyuks hatred.

as the others talked from a distance over, it was only you, yoo joonghyuk, and the survivor. Awkwardly quiet except from the glaring you two were doing for the past hour. You sighed, feeling annoyed. you brung the girl closer with just one hand, as the woman flinched, a blush slowly spread around her frozen face. "ah, i think you need to rest. " you chuckled, smiling. "How about you go in that tent? Ill accompany you."

As both of you stood up, the tension was sliced in half. you joonghyuk scoffs and averts his glare another way. Whats with his deal? A single person woudnt drain all the materials. So why the hell is he angrier than usual? As you let the small woman go into the spare tent, you smiled and bid her goodnight.

"y/n." Joonghyuk blankly calls your name, standing right behind you. With his arms crossed. You glanced from behind, smiling fakely. "What is it?"

"Why bring her here?" As you think for a moment, your fingers curl as you hum. "I dont know, i just wanted to?" You laugh, smirking at him. "Is it bad for me to junghyuk-ah?"

As yoo joonghyuks glared sharpened, he let his fist curl around the collar of your shirt. "you know the scenarios will get harder as we progress. Adding another deadweight such as yourself will make nothing better." He hissed, yet you arched a brow, holding his wrist.

"Deadweight?" I laughed. "I saved your ass multiple times with Dokja hyung."

"Or, are you just jealous i didnt comfort and kiss you in the damned cheek?" You laughed, your nails grazing onto his skin as you felt his glare dig daggers into your face. The leaves rustled as the fire crackled a Bright glow infront of you. No one near in sight other than the both of your presences.

"Come with me." Yoo joonghyuk exclaims, grabbing you by the forearm.

.

.

.

"Aw... joonghyuk-ah."

You grinned, biting your lip. his palm gripped tight onto your back, harsh enough to leave red swelling scratches. "Hah, you dragged me here so i can just fuck you? Were you jealous?" You teased. "You really are one of a kind... come on now, you know i wont replace you." Laughing, you felt him grit his teeth, Face flushed as your hips pounded onto his.

"Shut the fuck up y/n." He muttered. His voice hitched upwards as your dick hitted the hilt of his hole, making his muscles flex around your shaft, his head was a mess. You were just as ridiculous as what the rumours say. Always in some pretty girl or boys bed one occasion or another. And what made yoo joonghyuk even more pissed, is that you treated him nothing like a toy. He felt even more irritated of himself that he chased you around no matter the situation, like some kicked puppy.

Yoo joonghyuk coudnt help but relish in the feeling of your thick cock pounding into his ass. His rigged muscles flexing, Shuddering. Shivering at every movement. He gritted his teeth, his nails digging marks onto your back as you held your shirt up high by your teeth, grinning at the sight before you. Yoo joonghyuk shut his eyes tightly, letting out a broken moan with a cracked voice.

You groaned at the sound, feeling him tighten even more around you as he pushed his lips back to ravish yours. Biting hard enough to draw blood, your lips tainted with bruises.

He was particualarly rougher than usual. and more eager to please. His cock bouncing with need at every thrust, his legs wrapped around your waist, enough to forcefully pull you down to his chiseled body. "Fuck...." he murmured, underneath his breath. Why doesnt this feel enough?

And suddenly, with a push, you grabbed yoo joonghyuks neck. Your palm pressing him down on the soft mattress. "fucking stupid slut. All you do is be a little bitch all day huh?" You cursed, your fingers pressing down his airway. — The bed creaking with the force of your thrusts, Yoo joonghyuk can finally feel like hes enjoying this. He needed your attention. does he hate to admit it,— He will always beg for it. And he doesnt want some random fucking stranger taking it away from him.

He moaned, his hand reaching up to grip your hair, and his other to wrap around your forearm. Out of breath, gasping for air with a broken voice. "Hah? Ah... hah... yeah thats it yoo joonghyuk ah." You smirked. Your dick making a dent even onto his muscled torso. His cock dripping streams of precum. "Shut..shut.. ahh.. shut the fuckkk.. up.." yoo joonghyuk gasped for air. "And just keep.. fucking meee!" He moaned out brokenly. His fingers gripping onto your hair as your scalp ached.

His head was an utter mess at this point, words slipping out of his mouth that even he would rather end his own life if he would to see this sober. Or lets say, a post-orgasam bliss.

After minutes and minutes of skin slapping against skin, and multiple words of degradation. One particular thrust seemed to send him over the edge. You groaned, a half moan as you buried your dick deep into his quivering ass. Filling him to the brim with your cum. He threw his head back. Following soon after. Moaning as he clenched around your shaft, his body shuddering as he held onto your head and back. His own dick spurting out long ropes of come.

It felt amazing, his legs unable to pick which way he should cling onto you. The heel of his foot seemingly digging onto your back. Your body littered with bruises and bites, blood and sweet bodily fluids dripped down your torso. You breathed out, your hips twitching as you came hard and deep. Taking a long moment to catch your breath.

"y/n." Yoo joonghyuk groaned your name. Low and husky as he tried to recover. Your dick awkwardky still in his ass.

"....Who the fuck told you to stop?"

[juvenillia]

~ tangled series~ part 1

John 'Soap' MacTavish x fem!reader x Simon 'Ghost' Riley

summary: Johnny needs release, when he got denied from his usual partner he searches out for someone new. A casual ons, but he found something different and things become...complicated.

a/n: Had a spontanous idea and that is the product of it. Let me know what you think. [I don't have much experience writing so smut so I'm thankful for every criticism]

cw/tw: suggestive content, pure smut , bi!Soap, Ghoap, flirting, petnames, piv, unprotected sex, fingering, drinking, open relationship/situationship

worcount: 2.4k

》Masterlist《 》 Read on AO3 《 》Master Post《

„Are ya so desperate? “Kyle laughed out, gulping on his beer while eyeing the frustrated face of the Scot.

“Dinnea yer’ve needs?” he exhaled while sipping halfhearted on his whiskey.

“Looks like not as strong as yours.” He smiled and bit back the smug grin. Trying to show a bit more empathy. They had a few days off, still deployed at the end of the world in a small town, before heading back to base. Some days to rest and blow off some steam. John and Simon mostly stayed in the hotel, just relaxing, and catching up to some sleep. Sometimes all of them would head out, but this time both were more reserved. Johnny visited the same bar for the second day now, just to find a cute girl to get laid. He was already needy, but after such a mission, he needed to get some things out of his system. But somehow his charisma didn’t seem to work. So, Kyle agreed to play wingman for him, but just now another local beauty ditched him.

“I think ‘m gonna explode by the end of the night.” Johnny sunk into the seat, legs fully stretched out under the table.

“Why don’t ya just visit Lt again?” Kyle suggested with a smug grin and Johnny shrugged.

“’s complicated right now…”

“And still, he’s fine with you searching for a woman?” Johnny nodded while pushing the edge of his glass against his lips. “Really don’t get ya two.” Kyle exhaled while patting the shoulder of his teammate. “Okay, the next woman walking through that door…” He pointed at the entry. “…will be your company for the night.” Johnny rolled with his eyes, but still those were pinned on the wooden door.

“Bad cop, good cop.” Kyle stated while walking over to the already crowded bar before Johnny could even say something.

It only took mere minutes before it opened again, and Kyle immediately clapped in his hands. Johnny even raised his brows at the sight in front of him.

You just made your way up to the bar, all alone, in nothing more than a sweet summer dress hugging your curves just perfectly, hair still dump from the late-night swim in the ocean next to the bar. Prettier than every woman Johnny had witnessed through the whole days. To be honest, he couldn’t remember seeing such a pretty thing in a very long time. The sheer thought of you and him made his pants grew a bit tighter.

“Wait…” His words met deaf ears as Kyle already bumped into you and spilled his beer all over you. Making your dress clung to your chest even more than before.

“Woah can’t ya be damn careful.” He fake-drunken cried out, while steading himself next to you at the bar. You literally glared at him.

“Excuse me?!”

“Spilled…my bloody beer all over those...” He let his hands hover over your breasts, and you had the urge to slap him right into his face. Just then he got shoved away. “Damn, pal…” Kyle cried out while Johnny stood between him and you. You raised a brow at the scenery.

“Fuck off and leave the lass alone.”

“Who do ya think ya…” Kyle couldn’t complete his sentence as Johnny pushed him forcefully back once more and he trailed away.

Now the Scot faced you with a nearly shy smile. “Yer alright?” His voice was deep but still soft. A small smile appearing on your lips, and you nodded.

“Kinda used to something like this.” You exhaled while taking a napkin he handed you. Carefully taping it over your cleavage and Johnny couldn’t help but stare.

He had to shake his mind clear before speaking again. “Then I owe yer an apology in the name of all those blaigeards. Let me buy yer a drink.” [bastards] He smiled, and you rose a brow at him at the accent, but you didn’t push it any further.  Just from the corner of his eyes he could see a simple thumbs up from Gaz before the Brit left the bar himself, leaving you to it.

“Why not.” You extended your hand, and he took it and placed a quick peck onto the back of your hand.

Eventually that’s the reason you found yourself in a hotel elevator, pressed against the wooden wall, straddling the man as he pushed his tongue past your lips. His hands roaming all over your body and staying firmly at your thighs, while pushing you up against the wall even more. Your hands took grip of the strains of hair while your kisses grew more heated. Both of your heads empty and light. Just the little ring of the elevator announcing your arrival of the destinated floor let you part for mere seconds.

“I’m Johnny.” He beamed at you and mirrored his smile. You told him your common nickname and he repeated it sweetly before ordering you your preferred drink.

You spent some more time talking and drinking when he once in while placed his calloused hand not so decently on your thigh or on top of your hand. Always keeping eye contact that nearly made you get lost in it. But you couldn’t care, as you enjoyed his company a bit too much.

He didn’t let go of your hand while dragging you after him. He just stopped in front of his door to place a deep kiss onto your lips. He stroked a loose strain of hair behind your ear. “So damn beautiful.” He then pushed the door open and lifted you up with ease. Your legs wrapping around his torso as he carried you in, kicking the door shut before throwing you on the bed. He didn’t even waste another second and yanked his shirt over his head away before crawling on bed to you. The sight of him made you grin, while you felt the heat between your legs rise.

“Come here,” you demanded with a smug smile, and he gladly obeyed, placing himself on top of you before his mouth crashed down on yours again. More passionate and wet than before. Your hands found his nape to pull him closer into you while you kept his pace. His hands wandering down your body, slowly lifting the hem of your dress and slipping beneath. His palm found your nearly bare ass, only covered in such a small piece of fabric and he let out a deep groan. His voice sent shivers down your spine as you slowly parted your legs to feel more of him and you did. You could intensely feel his hardened member grinding over your still clothed crotch, and it let fall some delicate moans out of your mouth. Just before he started kissing you again.

He planted kiss after kiss down your jawline to your neck. Biting on your soft flesh as another moan brushed over your lips and you tried to muffle it. “Dinnea hold back, bonnie. Let me hear yer.” His breath against your skin was such an added sensation when his hand wandered from your ass to your front. Rubbing lazy circles over your still clothed cunt. He slowly sat back, pushing your dress just above your hips to gain him better access. He let his fingers push past your panties while a finger run through your slit. “Hmm, already so fuckin’ wet. Only for me,” he chimed while his other hand wandered to the tent in his pants. Rubbing above the fabric of his trousers while his other hand started to explore your sensitive regions. Earning him another row of moans. Just when he pushed two digits inside of you, you arched your back at the sudden sensation.

“More.”, you only begged as he curled them inside you, and he groaned at your demand.

 “Fuck, bonnie,” he said while biting his lower lip. His hands were pinned on you, staring in your already lust drunken face. Usually, he would take his time with his hook up. Making his partner for the night completely cock drunk before even pushing him inside of them, letting them cum on his mouth, then his fingers until they were a brabbling mess, but he couldn’t hold himself back. Not when you were so delicate placed for him, and his cock was already throbbing and twitching at all the sweet sounds you gave him. He needed you right now. No time for any regrets or second thoughts. “Yer look so fuckin’ good beneath me,” he said while unbuckling his belt and the sight in front of you gave you weak knees. Johnny was an average man, but still so handsome. As he took the time to free himself from the last clothes you did the same with your dress. Leaving you only in your panties.

He moved down to plant some more kisses along your stomach before tearing your soaked panties down with his mouth, mind already completely feral as he got a taste of you. “Spread them legs wider for me lass,” he said while squeezing your thighs and placing him between them. His hand sloppy stroking his hard member a few times, smearing precum over his length. His eyes find yours again. “Tell me, when something feels wrong,” he said with a smug smile while lining himself up with your entry and pushing slowly in.

“Fuck, Johnny,” you cried out while arching your back. He shamelessly pushed deeper and deeper until bottomed out. Grunts left his throat, while his hands took grip of your hips to keep you in place as he began to thrust into you in an unforgivable pace.

“Takin’ me so damn well. Tell me how it feels,” he demanded while his hips slam against your body. One of his hands finding your leg to drab it over his shoulder, gaining him better and deeper access and it made you cry out. Tears of pure joy running down your cheeks as your hands cling onto the sheets.

“Doin’ so good pup. Keep going’, darlin’ “ You cried out while your back arched even more.

“Steamin’ jesus…” The petnames completely sending him into abyss. He could feel how your walls clenched around him and all that made it hard for him. Hard to contain himself as he was balls deep inside you. And you could feel how close he was, how sloppy his movements grew. You reached out to his neck to pull him down with you. Taking grip of his neck while his cock kept pushing against that sweet spongy spot inside of you. Tears started to roll down your face again and you could feel the tingle inside of you grow.

God, you were close, non-stop clenching around his hard member. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, biting on your neck, trying to hold him back a bite more. “I want ya cum inside…ya hear me pup.” Your tone was so different to earlier. So, demanding and he could do nothing than obey. His thrusts grew harder, as your fingers claw on his back. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t care, not when you felt so perfectly made for him. Your tight cunt soaking him in while he chased his release.

Just with some more thrusts he completely spilled his seed inside of you. “Christ yes,” you cried out while your hips bucked forward to meet his and you could feel his orgasm triggering your own. You panted while he placed kiss after kiss onto your exposed skin, and you kept him tight to you.

“Did so good for me, lass.” He gently said while cleaning you up. He definitely didn’t want to let go of you. Besides some experimental experiences with Ghost, this was by far the best sex he had, and he would totally annoy the shit out of Gaz and his Lieutenant about it. After cleaning everything up, pulling some underwear on you both, he gave you an olive shirt of his. It was a usual military one and it made you giggle the slightest. Even more when he pulled you onto his chest. “Stay,” he plead while placing a kiss onto the crown of your head. You pulled him down to you for another deep and passionate kiss. If Johnny only knew it would’ve been the last time, he would feel your lips onto him. For now…

He woke up early in the morning just to find out that you were already gone. No note, no number. Nothing was left, only a sheer memory and a frustration settled in his guts. Right now, the thought of him being nothing more than a one night stand made him feel utilized. Usually nothing was wrong about it because that’s how those things worked out. But you awakened something in him that made him want more. It felt so different to anything he had experienced before. But sadly, he didn’t know much more than your nickname, and the way you felt around him when pleasure took the best of both of you.

Weeks passed and he could finally sort things out with Simon, as their situationship grew to something more constant. Still, he couldn’t forget about that one night that still left him breathless. A night he got off to so many times when alone in his room. Always wondering what your favorite color might be, or which music you preferred on long roads. If you were a morning or an evening person. If you preferred dogs over cats. There were so many things he wanted to know about you. It kind of made him feel empty. He found solace in your fateful meeting, as much as he found peace next to Ghost. And even when sleeping curled up against Simon, he couldn’t forget the feeling of you tugged up his chest in his shirt. If he only knew what he got himself into…

[wasted-women]

ROUND 1C, MATCH 4 OUT OF 8!

Causes of Death & Propaganda Under the Cut:

Cordelia Chase

Cause of Death: Became comatose due to childbirth, eventually died

Propaganda:

A fiercely witty, complex and independent character - she was Always her own woman, only briefly having romantic relationships and it never defined her character for 6 seasons on both Buffy & Angel. Unfortunately the show producer was an abusive misogynist who targeted Cordelia's character specifically for humiliation when her actress Charisma Carpenter became pregnant. He is a colossal dick, and a terrible writer. Cordelia and Charisma deserved better.

I love her so much

Darla

Cause of Death: Sacrificed herself to save her unborn child

Propaganda:

She's a super old kickass vampire who was a terrifying and fantastic villain - she comes back just to be pregnant (it's this whole weird prophecy thing). And be conflicted because she's a killer but she's worried she's probably going to kill the baby once it's born and so she kills herself first and dies in the arms of her ex-boyfriend and HE is sad about it and has to protect the child and she's never really mentioned again outside of flashbacks (still about the male hero, not about her). Yes Angel the Series has so many problems.

Winifred "Fred" Burkle

Cause of Death: Died while being possessed by a demon

Propaganda:

Imagine taking an incredibly smart, traumatised, dorky, strong, paranoid, loving and curious character who is an Expert of physics and portals and basically the brains of the group by s5 and making her entire damn arc about the men she's with. Because she's the only woman left on the show (all the others have been killed off! yay??) and YET still killing her off and making her dying all about how powerless her boyfriend feels. Who gives a shit about her, her boyfriend is sad!

she's quirky and kind and really smart and somehow emerged from a hell dimension relatively sane