#i don't think i have realized it yet though 😅

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

Girl, I am so excited to read what you thought of this chapter!

The aftermath of her trying to piece together her memories of her parents' death and her brother's betrayal is so heartbreaking. 😥 Like she's realizing that the narrative of her life was a lie, in a way. Hopefully she'll be able to reclaim the part of her past that was good and true with her parents, vs. the love and care she still has in her life through the people around her.

Exactly! It's almost like she has to start over and it's like nothing is the same. She is surrounded by people who love her, people who will ADMIT it and people who WON'T ADMIT it lol.

Lol GIRL. You KNOW WHY. You're just refusing to see it! But I could really see this moment in my head like a movie -- that look on Ben's face, watching her walk away. 💔

She does, she's just afraid to admit it to herself and afraid to have those feelings for someone who doesn't love her back. And it really makes you want to hit her over the head with a frying pan LOL. And thank you! That's how I intended it to be, which is even more heartbreaking 😭

That little creature she created is interesting though. You really get a sense that she tapped into something in her powers that was before yet unexplored -- like she broke through a barrier without realizing and unlocked new depths within herself.

That's what I was going for! The reader is really discovering new things about herself and I think that's why she's afraid of what comes next. She thought that she was in control of her abilities and knew everything about them, but now she's realizing that she's on the precipice of something that she's never considered about her powers. Plus, I really think that the creature is adorable, well, besides the murder tendencies. (I guess we could also say that about Ben LMAO)

Loll he's really not. But the thing about Ben is, when he does make those gestures, you know it's coming from a place of sincerity because he doesn't soften himself easily.

Yes! Ben is never like that for anyone. He's not doing it because he feels obligated to, it's because he genuinely cares about the reader, even if he won't admit it to himself. ��

Aww I love her grandmother so much! At least someone in her family is in her corner. 😭

Honestly I love her too! I was so on the fence about introducing her into the story, but I'm glad I did. And yes, the reader needed at least ONE living relative that genuinely cares about her. 😅

I think we ALL know who you meant. 😂

The reader is killing me tbh. I know I've said this before, but writing slow burn is literally almost as bad as reading it. Don't get me wrong I LOVE slow burn, but oh my stars sometimes it's so frustrating for them to both be in so much denial lol. I shouldn't complain because I did this to myself and now it really is "oh look the consequences of my own actions" lol.

I also love how you describe the "creative chaos" of her grandmother's house. The imagery in those paragraphs are so descriptive and lovely to imagine. I love especially: "boxes upon boxes of cookies in different stages of being packaged all over the counter." It's so grandmotherly and yet feels unique at the same time.

Thank you so much!💗 For me there really is something wonderful about reading/seeing creative chaos in a home, and also looking at creative spaces that people have. I think that there is warmth and comfort in a home that looks lived in. It's why I don't love minimalism, because it looks cold if that makes sense lol.

Discovering more about her past as Soothsayer, as well as her friendship with Ben was so very interesting! I didn't see it coming and that's the best thing of all, but now it's a way her grandmother can relate to her even more -- as well as be in an even better position to give her advice when it comes to that man.

Again, I was so on the fence about Soothsayer, but what you said about her being in "an even better position to give her advice when it comes to that man" is exactly why I decided to include her. But I think that the reader needed some sage advice from someone who sees through Ben, understands him, and helps the reader come to the same conclusion, that there really is more to Ben that meets the eye and that the reader should "take a chance on him." (Pun intended 😂)

Heart...breaking... 😢 She's such a sweetheart. How can she not realize how much she cares about him (loves him)?

I know 😭 She is going to realize it soon and I am so excited about that reveal. Oh plus I do think that she does know deep down that she does love him and care about him, but she's afraid to admit it because she doesn't want to fall for someone who she believes doesn't value relationships like she does.

GRANDMA YESSSS, TELL HER!!! GET IT THROUGH HER HEAD! lolll Ben isn't incapable of fear (or love), no matter how much he'd like to pretend. The way it comes out of him might "look different," through snappish anger and denial and rigidity, but it's still fear.

Again, Grandma for the win lol.

And YES you said it! It's not that Ben is some emotionless lump who doesn't care about anyone and feels nothing, he feels everything, but he just refuses to show it in the healthy way that people should. He's been so conditioned to see expressing emotions in a healthy way as something to be "frowned upon" so instead he has all these explosions of unhealthy angst that really don't help anyone.

Come on now, Ben. You're over 100 years old! Surely you get what's happening to you by now! 🤣🤣 You're simping for a girl you care about!

He really should know better 😅😂

Oooh the plants are keeping her young, huh? 😏 Maybe enough to sync up her lifespan with Ben's???

Mayyyybbbbeeeee...😉

Honestly, as much as I love reading fics where the reader isn't a supe, there's always a little part of me that can't help but see the reader growing old and Ben staying the same, and it always breaks my heart. There really is something so intimate and romantic about being able to truly spend your life with someone else, not just your life and then they go on for another few centuries. It's why I don't write too many readers that aren't as indestructible as him. I always try to write in a contingency plan that kind of saves Ben that heartbreak. But that is not to say anything bad about the fics were the reader isn't a supe or able to live as long as him. There are so many of those that I absolutely love and are so well written!

Side note, I did like how you handled it in BMD, when I read that forever ago. It was a good way to save Ben that heartbreak.

LMFAOO. Again, I love her. Kick his ass, Di! Get him in gear! "Try harder" -- INDEED.

Di is really giving him the kick in the pants he needs and is saying the things to him that we've all been saying from the beginning.😂

I'm deeeeeadd! I loved this line so much. 🤣🤣🤣 Benjamin is testing my patience too, good Lord. I can see why he's scared. He's on the verge of admitting he loves her -- and finally doing something about it. After his experience with Countess, that'll put anyone off of trying again to delve into a proper relationship (not to say their relationship was a proper example of a loving one, because it wasn't, obviously). Especially for someone like Ben, who struggles with real intimacy and dealing with his feelings, it makes sense that he'd digging his heels in now -- no matter how frustrating it is. 🙃🙃

It's my favorite line too! That and the bundt cake 😂. But you're right, he's afraid of everything that he's feeling and after Countess, he's not sure if he should fall for someone again. In relationships you do have to be vulnerable, open, and be emotionally available and for him those two things seem pretty daunting. This whole thing really makes me feel worse for him, because Countess messed him up, and made him afraid to have those feelings for someone else.

But I'm so happy you liked it!! And thank you for all of your wonderful comments. It really is so nice to hear your feedback friend💗😊

Chapter 14: Don't Be A Bundt Cake

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

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

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

Word Count: 13.1K

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

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

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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

Reader POV

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

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

But you didn't notice any of it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you desperately needed the comfort of her embrace.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But what would I say?

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

He's really not the best at that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Damn it Darren.

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

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

Darren.

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

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

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

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

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

"Honey?" Your grandmother says in a soothing voice

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

"Yeah?" Your voice shakes slightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You saw it?" You repeat, confused.

What's going on?

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

"What?"

Is she saying what I think she's saying?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You pretended to be a fortune teller?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She left without telling him goodbye?

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

“But what about Nicaragua?"

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

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

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

You could feel your heart breaking for her.

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

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

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

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

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

“When?”

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

“Was he mad?”

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

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

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

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

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

“And when would that be?”

Your grandmother shrugs. “Maybe on my deathbed.”

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

 You snort. “And no one knew?”

“Your dad figured it out.”

“How? When?”

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

“I was never injected?”

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

“Darren thought I was.”

“I know.”

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“You heard everything Darren said?"

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t think you ever will.”

"Really?"

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

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

“Was it really that bad?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ve seen-“ Your eyes widen.

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

“That’s so weird.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I killed Darren, I killed Elijah-"

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

"But-"

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head.

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

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

"Why not?"

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

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

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

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

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

"You don't?"

"Gran!"

"What? He's attractive."

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

"He has." She interrupts.

"What?"

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

"What does that have to do with anything?"

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

"Why does that matter?"

"Because he loved her."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wait-"

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

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

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

"Okay."

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

Soldier Boy POV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he wasn't sure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Di?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"About what?"

"My granddaughter."

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

"Yes." Her voice softens for a moment.

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

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

The thought that home wasn't with him.

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

"No, not good."

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

"No."

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

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

Oh. Ben relaxed a little bit.

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

"Yes you do!" Diana presses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She certainly hasn't changed.

“I am not avoiding-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what’s that?”

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

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

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

"But-"

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

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

Wait what?

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

He hesitates.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"She doesn't."

"Why don't you believe me?"

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

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

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

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

Ben chuckles. "I missed you too sweetheart."

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

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

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

“I-“

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

“I’m not-“

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

“I-“

“Stop making excuses!”

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

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

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

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

The line goes dead.

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

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

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

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

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

But why do I feel like-

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

"Di I-"

But it's not Diana.

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

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

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

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

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

Taglist:

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

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

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

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

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

@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies @fireskyy

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

@fitxgrld @whimsicalcherry @ladysparkles78

@spxideyver @zepskies @impala67stellawinchester

@reidtomewinchester @samanthadegaro @glossy01 @nikimisery

@tunnelvisionlove @incandxscents @winchester-stark @samahanta

@melonmochi

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

@pixviee @filmologetica @yvonneeeee @c1nnamong1rl29 @kmc1989

@livya99 @cherrygirl444

[cosmojjong]

i'm seeing shinee today !!!!

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Playlist Love | Jungkook | Slow Down | Chase Atlantic

Play it again...and again and again and again.

Summary: Jungkook's party isn't exactly how he had envisioned spending his birthday so sneaking out with you was the only way he wanted to end his night. Based off of Chase Atlantic's discography. Specifically 'Slow Down', 'OHMAMI', 'HEAVEN AND BACK', 'Meddle About', 'Friends', 'Now' and I think that's it 😅 Pairing: Sunshine f!reader x Grumpy Jungkook established relationship (Written in Jungkook's pov) Word Count: 4k~ Warnings: Smut smut and more smut and explicit language ofc cuz it's Chase Atlantic. Jungkook is low-key a dick and hates everyone but has a very soft spot for the reader.

The music that seemed deafening on arrival has become nothing but a hum in the back of my mind, vision focused only on her. Watching the way she speaks, the way she smiles and specifically how tempting she looks in that dress.

"Aye birthday boy, you wanna beer?" one of the many guys who suddenly thinks they're my best friend tonight asks yet again. "Nah man I'm good" I say, scooting over when he goes to sit on the couch next to me, now stuck between him and the couple who have been sucking face for the past ten minutes.

This party although for me hasn't entertained me in the slightest. It's harsh to say but when my best friend is the one who decides to throw it it's more or less just another one of his usual ragers that have become less and less my style since I left college.

"That your girl?" the guy who's name I haven't bothered to learn asks, following my line of sight to her, dancing in a circle of girls that are just as intoxicated as she is, if not more.

"Yeah, she's mine" I mumble, loving the way those words taste on my tongue. "Nice" he drags out, clearly overcompensating for guy talk. He's drunk though so I guess I can't expect an original or coherent thought to come out of him.

As I tune out whatever else he's saying I opt to listen to the lyrics of a familiar song I've heard her play ad nauseam when we're together and I realize I had never fully digested what they're saying.

I don't know if you already know how But girl, I got the feeling that you know now You're buried in the pillow, yeah, you're so loud But I'm about to show you, baby, slow down

Visions of her with her face buried in a pillow entertain me. Back arched and ass up, the pleasure too much yet not enough, begging me to go faster but all I do is slow down. Pressing down between her shoulder blades to muffle her cries of protest since she's being way too fucking loud. Nothing stoping me from keeping a slow stroke going, denying her her release again and again until she's broken.

"Aye Jungkook" the guy calls out, knocking me out of my fantasy and bringing me back to reality.

"What?" I answer curtly, already sexually frustrated from those thoughts alone, leaving me ticked off. "That guy is trying to make a move on your girl" he say. My eyes although hadn't left her, fogged over with the illusion my twisted mind had created leaving me blind to the pitiful interaction in front of me.

I get up from the couch wordlessly and stalk towards the dance floor, weaving through the crowd haphazardly just to get to her and once I do I grab her wrist and pull on it a bit, making her stumble, her back now pressed up against my chest.

"Who's this?" I whisper in her ear, showing a sense of intimacy enough to make the man who had clear plans with her in mind uncomfortable.

She giggles at the ticklish feeling and leans into me once she's realize who it is. "Oh um, I dunno" her speech cutely slurred making me laugh at how much she actually didn't care to learn anything about him.

"Oh! Um what's your name?" she asks, no doubt feeling a little embarrassed and asking just to clumsily remedy the situation. "Jake" he replies dryly, sizing me up now instead of paying attention to her, knowing that he's lost the battle and the war.

"Well Jake, I suggest you find another girl" I say, turning her around so her focus is on me but in true drunk y/n fashion she never wants anyone to be left on a bad note. "It was nice meeting you" she says over her shoulder, his eyes going between her and I, my eyes in response wordlessly telling him to walk away and he does, eyeing the crowd to find another girl who might bother giving him the time of day.

"Hi Koo" she say happily, running her hands up my biceps and shoulders before locking her fingers behind my neck, trapping me in her hold. "Hi baby" I say softly, caressing her face for a second and noticing how warm she's gotten.

"You wanna come sit?" I nod my head towards the area I just came from, the couple from before gone, no doubt getting that room they should've gotten half an hour ago. "No, dance with me" she slurs, dragging out the first word, pulling me closer to make a point. My hands now placed on her hips while she gets lost in the music again.

Girl, just scream it out Tell me what you're thinking No, I wanna see you undress now I wanna hear you confess now

"You having fun" I ask, amused at how adorable she's acting, a dazed giggly mess. "Mhm so much fun. Are you?" she asks, not wanting to be the only one of us enjoying ourselves since technically it is still my party. "I am but I'd rather get outta here" I confess, having had fun at the beginning but this past hour or two has been excruciating, nursing my water to make sure I'm good to drive us home while watching her tease me without even knowing it.

"But my friends just got here" she says, gesturing to some people who had been here for long enough. "All of your friends have been here for so long. Which means we've been here for way too long " I argue and she shakes her head before realizing how bad of an idea that is, clearly having made herself dizzy from the way she stumbled, resigning to a pout instead.

"Don't look at me like that" I chuckle, kissing her pouty lips which she responds to right away, her clumsy kisses tasting like the many drinks she's had tonight. "What are my friends gonna think if we leave so early? It's your birthday" she asks, not realizing it's well past two am.

"I'm sorry to say this babe but I don't give a fuck about your friends right now" I whisper in her ear, my words making her shiver. "I'm sure what I've got to offer you tonight is a lot better than what they can give" I say, kissing her neck to prove my point leaving her humming in contentment.

"Lemme finish up my bottle then we'll g-go" she says and I chuckle while pulling back to look at her. "Do you even know where it is?" I cock a brow and when she opens her mouth to respond her brows soon furrow in confusion. "That's what I thought" I say and when she goes to protest I cut her off.

"You're not drinking what's in that fucking bottle y/n even if you did find it" and she closes her mouth, her pupils dilating just the slightest bit telling me that she's fully ready to listen now.

"Go get your stuff" I say patting her ass twice before spinning her around and encouraging her to lead the way. She refused to give me her things at the beginning of the night, claiming she needed her lipstick or whatever so she better know where it is or we're leaving without it.

I don't have time to fuck around right now when I notice how high her dress had ridden up her thighs, leaving me following very close behind.

She finds her purse and double checks for her phone that's luckily in there too and before she can start saying goodbye to anyone I'm dragging her out of the house. "You guys sneaking out of your own party?" one of the guys who's smoking a cigarette by the front door asks.

"Yeah can you tell everyone we left? If they even bother to notice" I ask, helping her clumsily walk down the front porch steps. "I'll tell em, Happy Birthday dude" he says and at that we're walking to my car with y/n slurring out a goodbye for the both of us.

"Why do you wanna go home early?" she pouts, dragging out the last syllable while I help her down into the passenger seat. "I don't like partying like that anymore. Plus it's already two am so I'm pretty sure we've stayed long enough" I inform her but she's still not one hundred percent convinced.

"But it's your birthday! I thought we were gonna take an Uber home?" she asks, now confused and a little concerned. "I stopped drinking a couple hours ago so I'm fine. I'd never put my girl in danger like that" I assure her, caressing her cheek for a second when she leans into my touch, retracting it and putting her seatbelt on a moment later.

"You okay?" I ask, checking her out...for safety reasons of course, but those bare thighs are making it so much harder to keep my thoughts to myself. "I should've let you have fun" she sighs, regretting not offering to be the DD this time.

"It's okay baby, let's just get home yeah?" I say and she nods, her lips still very much pouted in remorse for her choices. "Better suck that lip back into your mouth or I'll make you suck something else" I warn and she listens right away, knowing I'll make good on my promise and I smile when I see her rubbing her thighs together. "Good girl" I rasp and close her door before rounding the car to my side.

~~~~~

"Did you have a good birthday?" she asks after we've been driving on the highway for a while, taking sips from the water I bought her. "It's not over yet" I smile, looking over and seeing she's starting to sober up...barely. "But it's past midnight" she says and I shake my head. "It's not over yet since I still haven't gotten to unwrap my gift yet" I say scanning her body but she tilts her head at me.

"But I already gave you your present" she says, brows furrowed and completely oblivious to what I'm thinking. "Yes you did baby and it was a very nice gift but I'm not talking about that" I say, thinking she'll understand this time but with her still coming out of her drunken state she's not the sharpest tool in the shed just yet.

"What do yo-" she starts but cuts herself off when she feels my hand that's been on her thigh slide just the slightest bit higher and she flutters her lashes, sobering up just a bit more at the implications of my action.

"Is that okay with you" I ask, rubbing circles on her inner thigh to reassure her that it's her decision. We're both comfortable having drunk sex together but she knows she can always say no.

She stares down at my hand for a while, no doubt lost in a similar daze I had been in at the party not too long ago. "It's okay you don't have to answer now. Drink some more water and you can decide when we get home" I say, sliding my hand to rest just above her knee so she don't feel too much pressure.

After a couple of minutes of her contemplative silence I glance over and see that she's smiling to herself, a clear sign that we're both getting what we want tonight but I decide to take my hand off of her leg, opting to grab my phone and put on her playlist, the one that I've realized leaves nothing to the imagination.

Once we hit the first chorus I realized that this is the perfect one to get her to realize what I've been thinking about since we got in the car. From the way she changes her posture and glances over at me I know it's only a matter of time and when the second verse hits she's rubbing her thighs together again.

Bend it over slow 'cause daddy I know how you like it Backseat of the 'Rari pullin' over just to ride it

"You okay?" I ask her, noticing how she's bouncing one of her legs up and down, a usual nervous habit of hers but in this case it's to give herself some stimulation and we both know that. She nods and clears her throat to get rid of any nervous tone that no doubt would've come out of her and opts to nod.

"Okay" I smirk, going back to driving but I place my hand on her thigh again, stopping her ministrations and making her just as impatient as I've felt since that fucking song at the party...literally.

Hit one-fifty on the dash, I bent the corner Then she bent it for me sideways, uh I might have to fuck her on the highway, yeah

"Pull over" she mumbles and I smirk, thanking the artists on this song but making her say it again. "What was that? I couldn't hear you baby" I taunt, sliding my hand further up her thigh and squeezing it to reassure her since I know she's embarrassed.

"I said pull over" she commands which takes me by surprise but I do as she says, opting to take the next exit instead of the very reckless suggestion from the lyrics.

Once I get off the highway I find a secluded parking space in an otherwise completely vacant lot and turn off the car.

"What was it that you wanted to talk about?" I tease, turning my whole body to face her and the next second she's unbuckling her seatbelt and yanking on my collar to smash her lips against mine. Lips, teeth and tongue clashing, kissing each other breathless until she has to pull away, chest heaving and her bottom lip already starting to swell.

"We can wait until we get ho-" "No!" she interrupts me, her eyes opening with a glazed over look from arousal and her slightly intoxicated state. "No I wanna do this. Here. Now" she says, pulling me in for another kiss and I reciprocate it, my hands feeling for my own seatbelt to get it off of me.

I hold her face in place with one hand while the other is grabbing onto her forearm, pulling her over to to sit in my lap and when she gets the message I start pushing my seat back to make room for her but she still ends up landing her ass on the horn, making her bite my lip in surprise.

"Shhh" I chuckle, guiding her hips to sit on my lap instead, "You sure you're okay?" I tease, sliding my hands up her bare thighs, my fingers just barely slipping under the hem of her dress in case she says no.

She wanna fuck me, okay? She wanna know how it tastes

"Yes" she groans, clearly frustrated with me asking her again, shutting up any questions of doubt when she starts to unbuckle my belt.

"Someone's extremely impatient huh?" I say while she unbuttons my jeans, leaning back in my seat and lifting my hips for her so she can slide my jeans and boxers down, spitting on her hand afterwards and wrapping her hand around my dick, stroking it up and down at a lazy pace and taking control.

I hum and lay back, my eye half lidded and watching her as she takes special care to pay attention to what she's doing. "Feel so good" I encourage her, wanting to get her attention so she'll look at me, her lashes fluttering before she does, her bottom lip between her teeth from concentrating too hard.

"Come here" I say, caressing her face and tugging her lip free before kissing her, this time at a slower more sensual pace that matches the way her hand is stroking my length up and down, up and down.

"Fuck you're so good to me" I curse when her thumb runs along my tip, pulling away from her lips and kissing down her jaw to pepper kisses along the column of her neck, sucking marks into her skin when her hand tightens on my length and starts picking up the pace.

I groan against her skin and bite down to muffle the sound of any others coming after that but once I get too close I tell her to stop. "S-shit wait, wait" I say and she does, taking her hand off and looking at me, concern written on her face but I clear my throat and answer the question that's clearly written all over her face.

"Wanna fuck you" I say and slide my hand all the way up her dress, going to press against her clit and realizing there's no barrier. "You're not wearing anything under this?" I ask, raising my brow and getting the answer myself when I'm able to put a finger inside her. 

I pump it in and out until she starts to ride my fingers, adding another one but making her do the work. She shakes her head, resting both of her hands on my shoulders to keep her balance.

"T-took them off when you got me the w-water" she stutters, admitting to what she did when I went inside of the gas station. "You little minx" I chuckle, adding another finger and making her clench around them, a yelp coming out of her when she sinks back down, not expecting the stretch just yet.

"Thought it would be easier for when we got h-home" she explains, the innocence in her tone contradicting the way she's using my fingers to get off. "You we're trying to make it easier for me to fuck this pussy as soon as we got home. Didn't know you were as eager to get fucked as I was to fuck you" I hum, loving the way I've trained my girl.

I take my fingers out of her and she whimpers in protest. "Patience Princess" I scold, grabbing her hips so she'll hover over my length, taking one hand off to help line up with her entrance. She looks at me and my eyes flicker down to where she's hovering and when she starts to lower herself down she rests her forehead against mine, squeezing her eyes shut while her nails dig into my shoulders.

She lets out a whine and I can tell that the stretch is starting to burn from the way her walls are sucking me in. I hiss when she clenches around me, sensitive from denying myself of an orgasm in favor of prepping her to fuck sooner.

"It's okay baby, s-slow down" I stutter, nudging my nose against hers and grabbing her hips to stabilize her, gripping them so hard that my fingers will have left bruises for her to see in the morning. Her breathing is shaky when she takes in more, her pussy wrapped around my dick like it was made for me. 

"Just like that, doing so good for me" I say, brows pinched together when she clenches around me again, praise always having this effect on her. "Gonna be good and ride me on your own or you want me to help you?" I ask, tilting her chin up since her eyes have been focused on where we're connected, me being balls deep inside of her while she controls her breathing until she's comfortable. 

"Wanna be g-good" she stutter, her hands bracing herself on my shoulders before lifting her hips a bit, sinking back down on me before repeating the motion, her movements getting more bold as she finds her rhythm. 

Her tits bounce in front of me, adding another layer to this erotic scene but I need to get this dress off of her so I can see them, the top part basically slipping off already because of the strapless nature and the rumbled state it's in from not having more space to move around.

I slide it down and immediately place my mouth on one of her tits, grabbing the other one and toying with her nipple making her yelp in surprise, her mind focused on keeping a steady rhythm and forgetting that I'm able to explore her body while she does so. 

"It's okay baby keep going. Doing such a good job riding me" I coach her, placing a kiss on her open mouth, her face looking so fucked out already. "Fuck you're gorgeous" I groan, pulling her back into a deeper kiss, her gasping against my lips when I buck my hips into her.

"J-jungkook" she stutters, my name sounding so forbidden on her lips, little sounds of pleasure following, soon replaced with sounds of frustration. "Does baby want some help now?" I ask, running my thumb along her bottom lip, her lip gloss replaced with the swollen color sucked into it. 

She nods her head and shyly admits her need for me to take over, the sight endearing if she didn't have my cock buried deep inside her.

Gripping her hips again and urging her to move I lend my strength to keep the momentum going leaving both of us unable to hold back sounds of ecstasy. The squelching sound from the way her dripping wall suck me in making it hard for me to keep going. 

The thoughts of my cum dripping out of her and making an even bigger mess as she rides me being too close...too attainable to hold back for much longer. 

"Just like that, you're doing so well. Riding me and giving me such a pretty view. The only gift I fucking care about" I curse, the sight of her with her mascara running and her lashes damp from the pleasure being too much for her, mouth letting out unrestrained moans as she gets closer being just enough for me to hit that climax. 

"Baby you c-close? Fuck" I groan feeling her clench again, the sensation almost being my undoing. She nods her head and smashes her lips against mine, bringing me into a sloppy uncoordinated kiss, making me swallow her moans as the both of us finally come undone. Pleasure washing over us in waves as her walls flutter around me, the feeling of my cum dripping out of her being so disgustingly forbidden it's making me want more of her again. 

"Did so good for me" I soothe while rubbing her back as she lays against my chest, her mind no doubt still up on cloud nine from the way I felt her body reacting to me. "Made me feel so good" I whisper, kissing her temple and waiting for her to come back down to earth. 

"Baby?" I ask while feeling her relax into me, nuzzling her face into my neck. She hums in response before sitting up, making me hiss from the sensation, still sensitive from how well she rode me, my dick still very much buried inside of her. 

"You ready to go home?" I ask, wiping off some of the black tears that have almost slowed to a stop off her cheeks. She hum again and starts to fix her dress, getting off my lap and making herself whine from the loss of feeling full.

I tuck myself back into my jeans and then reach into the backseat and grab the hoodie I had back there and place it on her lap. She smiles sheepishly and slips it over her head, her body now enveloped in my scent with hers still very much all over me.

"Drink some more water" I say, picking up the bottle I got her so she can hydrate some more after the number she did on me. I put her seatbelt on her while she does as I ask, making sure she's fully secure before I fix my seat and put mine on as well. 

"How do you feel about your birthday now?" she rasps once we've gotten back on the highway, a lazy smile on her face while she admires me. "Like I said...it's not over yet"

Series masterlist

Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @coralmusicblaze @whoa-jo @00frenchfries00 @pastelpinkjoon @joonwater (Rest of the tags are in the reblogs 💜)

Join my Taglist!

Feel free to fill out the form or just comment on any of my fics to be added :)

[beatrixstonehill2]

"Hello, my beautiful people, it's your girl Samantha out here enjoying the sun as I look forward to having my own place and being super independent! Don't get me wrong, I love living with my parents but it's a little embarrassing bringing guys home, getting fucked, and moaning with your parents trying to sleep in the next room. The amount of times they've barged in on me totally naked, riding some cute guy with my fake boobs bouncing, my cock in his hand getting jerked off is more than I care to count! Now I can have all the sex I want and put my cute body to the test for real! Soooo happy I stuff with it and transitioned, I turned out gorgeous and compliments to my surgeon, my boobs don't look all that natural or believable but he managed to pump me with so much saline! Three sizes bigger than we discussed, he said he wanted to make them extra large because it would really compliment my figure! I'm glad he went and made them so huge! Men love them, and I love showing them off for them.....

Well, since I have my Associate's and my streaming career really took off, I'm making more than enough money to support the kind of lifestyle I've always dreamed of. No parents to hold me back or tell me how many men or women I can bring home, what to wear, what to eat, I'm just gonna go nuts and do everything I've always wanted. My move in day is next week and you better believe I'm gonna have a housewarming party! I'm going to get passed around and fucked soooo good. I might get really kinky and just drink so much I black out, and when I wake up my friends can tell me just how many guys had their way with me, that sounds fun!

Then I'll be back to streaming, which of course will be way raunchier. I'll stream topless and aim my cam so you can see my erections stick up my skirt or the bulge in my shorts. It'll be fun getting to jerk off whenever I want, especially for you guys if you donate generously. And I know some of you have wanted me to eat my meals on cam, but my parents make me eat with them in the dining room, so I'll be sure to order out and do some mukbang content since I know it's really in demand with pretty streamers, especially ones with big bouncy fake boobs.

Oh well, I'm gonna find a group of cute guys to have some fun with, I see a few who keep looking over at me like they want to squeeze my tits until they pop. Hope they don't mind my seven-inch cock! Bye guys! ❤️"

"Oof..... well, this is what two years of independence can do to a girl, I guess. 😅 Fuckkkk my hot little body is gone. I can't believe how fat I've gotten. I'm close to 500lbs and my weight gain isn't slowing in the least! I guess I didn't realize how much my parents were controlling my portions and appetite.... Ever since I got this apartment I've just been eating nonstop, whether I'm streaming or not. And it doesn't help that I learned overeating makes my cock super hard. So I went from a hot, busty streamer girl to a fat slob stuffing her face nonstop. You can't even tell my boobs are fake anymore. My implants are buried under all the fat in my tits.

I can't believe how bad it's gotten. My apartment is covered in trash and food bags, there are flies and bugs everywhere. I haven't bathed in over a month, I probably smell so bad but I don't care, I just want to eat more. I don't care how fat I get I just want to keep eating and eating. I mean I'm already diabetic, I have super high blood pressure and cholesterol. My doctor told me I can probably expect my first heart attack this year, but he said it shouldn't be a huge one quite yet, so that's a relief. I kinda can't wait until it happens, I hope I'm streaming when it does, I'm going to try my hardest to jerk off when it happens!

On the subject of my cock it's almost a foot long now, since I'm so lazy I've been 'forgetting' to take my hrt and as a result my cock is way bigger, I'm way hornier, even though I guess it means I'm partially detransing? I don't mind as long as it means my cock is bigger, I think my voice got deeper but I still live as a girl so that's all that matters! Although once I'm 800lbs you probably won't be able to tell I'm supposed to be a girl. But who cares? I'm so addicted to overeating I can't possibly stop now. You've all seen the streams where I eat so much I puke all over myself, then pick right back up eating, covered in my puke. I kind of like being filthy, in a weird way, like it's so embarrassing that I've let myself become this it makes me rock hard.

I sit around on stream eating for almost ten hours a day. Half the time I don't get up to use the bathroom even, I'm such a hot mess. But if you sift through Twitch girls who've gotten fat a lot of them are trans and used to be super hot like me and now they're massively fat, and most of them are sitting in a pile of their own shit, happily adding to it as they stuff their faces and flirt with chat. So it's not like I'm the only girl who let herself go on this platform, there's a lot of us! So it's fine if I keep getting fatter and unhealthier. You guys seem to like watching me ruin my sexy body and turn into a morbidly obese slob! I'm just pleasing my fans! Which reminds me, once I'm immobile I might need some caretakers to keep me fed and help me get off once I'm too fat to jerk off. It's already such a struggle with this big fat gut in the way. If you're interested DM me! ❤️"

[i-write-sometimes-maybe]

Obsessed- Lady Lesso x EverReader!

Synopsis: Lesso has this thing, but no one knows. Not even you…

Word Count: 643

Warnings: Dark!Lesso, no smut, non-consensual stalking, readers gender isn’t mentioned. (Lmk if there’s anything else!)

A/n: (You can kinda see her tie pin in this gif, which is not mine btw) Okay, yes, this is short asf. I’m sorry! I really wanted to get something out while I’m working on this other smutshot (that includes working up the courage to do it too 😅) I figured something was better than nothing.? I legit have had this forsaken OneShot in the drafts at 5-6k words FOR A YEAR NOW GUYS. I’m trying! I want you guys to have it too. I’m also SO sorry to the few requests I’ve gotten, believe me I have seen them and I do plan on writing them! I’m just once again working two jobs and I’m also plainly in the dumps with writing motivation :/. I’m working on it 🫶🏻.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

Obsession. It's a funny thing really. It usually builds from innocence, a simple crush maybe.

But then, it spirals.

Though, the obsessor most times doesn't realize the extent of said obsession.

Leonora Lesso wouldn't necessarily deny the fact she obsessed, of course, unless, she was asked.

It wasn't her fault. It was yours.

Yeah, that's it. Your fault.

You.

You with your bright smiles and warm being.

It really should make the Never woman feel sick.

But she watches you with a subtle warm fuzzy feeling, like how she would think it would feel if you made her soul smile.

Watching you at meal times with Dovey, laughing at whatever the conversation was.

She found satisfaction in watching you, joy almost, watching you teach. The passion you held was quite similar to hers, though you were an Ever.

And even now, her watching you from behind your balcony door. Enjoying the feeling that fills her as she watches you undress from the day.

No, she wouldn't say she's obsessed. Enthralled, sure.

Enthralled at the possibility you could see her in the reflection of the mirror you were standing in. Enthralled by your possible reaction if she chooses to make herself known, or maybe, if you were to catch her.

She often wonders what your reaction would be.

After all, she does this almost nightly.

How you haven't seen her at least once in the fortnight, Lesso wasn't sure. But she loved to think of the idea that you were aware of her watching you, and you enjoyed it as much as she did.

She continues to wait in the shadows, watching how you don't skip a single part of your routine.

She'd come to learn that you liked everything in a certain way, down to your showers.

As you climbed under the covers, your nightly steps coming to end, she never strayed.

She usually liked to stay until she knew you were asleep, loving how peaceful you looked.

Normally, it was enough.

Being 20 feet from you, a glass door in the way, it was close enough.

Normally.

Well, who’s to say what’s normal and what’s not.

Once again, you were peacefully in your slumber while Lesso hadn’t moved a hair.

But she needed more.

She carefully took her tie pin from the knot that she frequently adorned, using it to swiftly pick the door you always made sure to lock.

The first step into the unfamiliar, yet very familiar, space was enthralling for her. Your true scent, unbothered and unedited, hitting her nostrils so strong to the point she’s sure she would’ve faltered if she cared to pay attention.

But as always, her attention was elsewhere.

Neither her heels or her cane made their signature click as she entered, the carpet working in her favor.

Slowly she walked up to your bed, standing at the end and getting lost in your serenity.

But as realization set, she decided she wanted to learn more. No, needed to learn more about you.

Her painted nails just barely scraped the surface of your duvet as she slowly moved onto your bedside table.

Noticing the new book you recently picked up, she made a mentally note to look into it later.

She never stayed in one spot for too long, too afraid it would bring her a welcoming she can’t ignore.

Her final spot was your vanity.

The very same one you sat yourself at just mere moments ago.

Sitting in the same spot as you previously had could’ve made her head spin, she had to know that her heart was pounding, if she paid any mind to it.

But her mind was elsewhere.

Her eyes and her mind were on you, just like before.

But sitting there, seeing you, smelling you, feeling you….

She couldn’t help but think, just how much fun she’d have with you.

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

Taglist: @v3nusxsky @just-your-casual-nerd @pebbleswritessometimes @scream-queenlover @darkth1ngs @sgelessoanddoveykissing @hxzxrdous

(Okay, I’m def missing people on this list and if you’re one of them please leave a comment! 🫶🏻🫶🏻)

Part 2 maybe??

[in--somnium]

Pogue was trying to keep up a relaxed vibe. His voice was doing a good job of exactly that- no tell tale signs of distress or discomfort. Keeping his posture doing the same was much harder. He felt tense, his muscles rigid as if afraid. His parents were good people, overall. He shouldn't be so worried about talking about them. But he also knew that there were things about them that were… less great. Like the way his father hit him when he was pissed off. Or the times he'd called his son a "fag" for even the smallest things. Keeping his hair long had been his one, major, defiance and while his father threatened to cut it off in his sleep, his mother stood by him on it ("It's the trend now. Besides, his hair frames his face nicely." His mother had said. Only for his father to reply with a rant about emasculation and "effeminate" men like the way other people chose to live their lives was a blight on his otherwise perfect little world). 

But they didn't need to know any of that. Even Jayn didn't need to know any of that. It was just how his parents were. He could live with it. He had for this long, after all.

"It was nice talking to the both of you, too," Pogue replied politely. He had a feeling the conversation had gone well. That was good- he wanted them to like him.

Soon, the goodbyes were said and he felt a weight lift off of his shoulders. He'd survived it and he'd only had to give the most basic of information about his parents. Good.

Pogue chuckled when Jayn pressed her face to his stomach and screamed. She must have been holding that in for a while. "Your parents sound great. I'd love to get to meet them some day," He said honestly. A real conversation, maybe dinner. The only thing that worried him was, again, the topic of his family. But he was particularly good at steering conversation away from himself by now. It was always easier to do in person, too.

Though Jayn seemed to have realized something was wrong because, while Pogue had thought the worst of it was over, his girlfriend asked a question that hit him so hard he felt like he'd been punched in the stomach.

Again, he tensed up a bit, though he tried to let it slip from him quick enough that hopefully she wouldn't notice.

"It's nothing, baby," He assured her, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. "They're just boring and my dad works a lot." Both of which were true, but neither of which were the truth she was seeking.

Luckily for Pogue, before anything more could be asked of him, Tyler and Aaron were coming their way. Haunted House over. Judging by the laughter and their need to catch their breath, either they'd had fun or they'd snuck off and had sex. He assumed the prior was correct, though the latter was far more amusing.

The last leg of the haunted house had included portraits with moving eyes and, eventually, “ghosts” (holographic projections of some sort) that had swooped down at them, cackling and disorienting against the dark backdrop of the room. The Devil himself had appeared in the final moments to welcome them into the hellish “fires” (accompanied by an uncomfortable heat) that danced against the wall, a gaping door into the unknown and then… they were free. Tyler thought it fitting considering how much of a hell the actual world could be anyway, but he wasn’t here to try to analyze a haunted house on Halloween. He was just glad he was back in the light. Or, as much light as there was considering the evening had started to settle in.

"Welcome back to the world of the living. We could hear your screaming all the way out here, ya big babies," Pogue teased good naturedly, and Tyler reached out to playfully punch him in the shoulder. 

"It was pretty great," Ty answered. He wrapped an arm around Aaron and leaned into his boyfriend a bit. "Not as good as the one Junior year of high school, though. I swear I almost pissed myself when that guy lunged out at us that year. Remember that? If he'd been any closer, I think Reid would have actually punched him," He recalled, laughing at the memory. 

Gore didn't bother Cassia much. Neither did the scarier parts of the haunted house- people jumping out at them or grabbing for them. Low lights. Cracks of thunder. Loud noises. Cass was able to keep a level head about it all, remember it was all in good fun, nothing to actually be scared of. Each scream or shout of fear from her was quickly replaced with a small bout of laughter at her own reactions. She was having fun, without a doubt. And by the time they reached the narrow hallway, she was overcome with a sense of thrill that led her to be prepared to take the lead even before Caleb had offered it to her.

The dim lighting and the adrenaline had both been doing a good job of keeping her mind occupied enough that she hadn't yet noticed just how anxious Caleb was. It wasn't until he spoke that she caught on to that edge in his voice, that slight breathlessness.

She wasn’t sure what was wrong, but he was clearly feeling uneasy. Had something scared him? Well, it was a haunted house and the point was to be scared of course, but… had something actually, truly, unnerved him?

She wanted to ask, to make sure he was okay, but she also didn't want to question it or say anything that might make him more uncomfortable. Clearly he was trying to keep his discomfort hidden. So she kept the realization to herself for now and, instead, made a mental note to keep the lead so she could assure he wasn't getting the brunt of whatever was to come.

She also may have… used the smallest bit of her powers on him in the moment before they slipped through the narrow passage. She kissed his cheek and used the moment to offer him a bit of silent reassurance with her powers to soothe his anxieties. Not enough that he'd suddenly feel fine, but hopefully enough to take the edge off. Her father had, for a long time, told her that it wasn't okay to manipulate emotions with her powers- just because she could didn't mean she should. But small things like this couldn't cause any harm, right? And the contact of her lips to his skin was the perfect catalyst for it. Usually she was subtle enough that people didn’t even question why they suddenly felt just a bit less unsteady. She assumed it would be the same with Caleb. After all, emotions come and go. They settle down or rise back up. It wouldn’t be a far stretch to think that the little kiss of reassurance that she’d given him was enough to put him a bit more at ease.

Or… so she hoped.

Hoping that he felt just a bit better now, she took the lead as he’d suggested. Careful footsteps, glancing back from time to time to try to see him despite the knowledge that it was too dark to catch a glimpse at him. And then she stepped out into more dim lighting, an eerie, moonlit glow settled over the “greenhouse” they were now in.

It took Cassia only a few seconds to realize what was going on in this room- Zombies.

Of course the realization came when the dead body on the ground suddenly grabbed for her ankle and she screamed, reeled back, and bumped right into Caleb. Zombies didn’t freak her out, actually, but that guy had been made to look like he was literally cut in half! She hadn’t expected him to suddenly come alive! That had actually, sincerely, scared the hell out of her. Even so, she found that small bit of laughter bubbling up again, especially now that she had her back pressed to Caleb and could feel the warmth and safety of him right there against her.

“C’mon! This way!” She told him, pointing towards the obvious exit on the other side of the room. It took them a minute to maneuver past the zombified actors, growling and snarling and making their way in a slow, ominous, gait towards them. But they finally made it, Caleb’s hand securely back in her own, and they passed into the next room.

An art gallery.

Admittedly, Cassia was super impressed. The paintings and sculptures were really well done. The art department for this haunted house had really gone all out! She wished she could have taken pictures to show to Jayn- she thought the other girl would have appreciated how lovely these works were, even if they were meant to look sort of faded and cobwebbed and… was the guy in that painting looking directly at her? And, oh shit! Did that statue just move?!

A (fake) sword was brought down close to Caleb and Cassia was quick to tug him out of the way (even though, realistically, the actor was going to miss on purpose, anyway). Then the ghosts began to flicker out of the artwork, swooping at them as they moaned or cackled or even screamed.

How freaking cool was that?! She’d been to her share of haunted houses, but the effects they were using in this one were killer!

Finally, they slipped from the art gallery into a dark room with a warm, reddish, glow and an exit that looked like you were walking straight through fire. The Devil greeted them and Cass stopped walking entirely. She had a feeling this was the end of the haunted house, the scariest parts done but a final message, of sorts, being offered. The “Devil”’s fully black eyes and that pointy-toothed grin were, quite honestly, unsettling. Something about it didn’t sit right with her, but she couldn’t explain it. She tucked herself against Caleb’s side and, gently coaxing him in a wide berth around the actor, then they walked through the “flames” into a dark void that, soon, led them right outside.

She blinked against the brighter light of being back outdoors, and felt that discomfort of the last few moments finally dissipate. She looked to Caleb, smiled wide, then finally leaned up to steal a kiss. “We’re definitely doing that again next year!” The unintentional implication that they’d still be together this time next year. They hadn’t been together for long yet, but, even so, she really did hope that they’d still be together next year. Maybe longer, even. But she didn’t have time to find a way to take it back or apologize or anything before she heard a shout of Caleb’s name.

“Caleb! Cass! Over here!” She looked towards the voice and caught Pogue waving them over with a big smile on his face.

“We shouldn’t keep them waiting,” She said, then, just because she still felt a bit buzzed from the adrenaline, she kissed Caleb once more before leading him towards the others.

Now it was just a matter of waiting for Reid to show up before they could move on.

So far, so good. Jayn was, for the moment, a nervous wreck. She was listening to Pogue, obviously, but she was also weighing each sentence against what she knew her parents were each thinking. As his girlfriend, she hoped to all the gods who were out there that her parents were fine with his reply. As his friend, she was curious to see what he said, just because he hadn't really talked about his parents around her before. She doubted that they were racist because he'd dated Kate for as long as he had...but that was all she knew.

Okay...a stay-at-home mom who liked interior design, and a dad who owned a profitable construction company...that didn't sound bad. Jayn didn't think her parents would have a problem with any of that. Then why was she getting weird vibes? She racked her brain, wondering what terrible secrets his parents could be hiding. Obviously, there was the witch thing, but that wasn't really "bad"--plus, she and her parents already knew about that. Jayn wondered and wondered until she was nudged out of her thoughts by the little kiss Pogue sat on top of her head. It was basically a reflex, the way she leaned into it and then into his side.

"Well, it sounds like they both like what they do. That's important, especially when you get to our age," Jayn's mom said, and the smile she had was perfectly audible. Her kid breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "Alright, I know my daughter's probably wondering when we'll let you go since she loves Halloween so much...it was nice to talk to you, Pogue."

"Use a webcam next time! I want to see who my little girl's running around with," Mr. Hardy added, though he was clearly in a good mood, too. Jayn was unamused. "Alright, goodnight."

"Night, Dad. Night, Mom. Love you." And then the call was finally over. Jayn put her phone away, pressed her face into her boyfriend's stomach, and let out a weak scream, ever the dramatic. "...thanks for...not thinking they're weird," she muttered, looking up at him. She sort of wanted to ask when she was going to meet his parents, but she worried if it was too soon. There was a difference between him talking to her parents for a few minutes, and her going over to have dinner with the Parrys. And what if his parents didn't like her for some reason? How much did they even know about--

That was how she figured out why the topic of his parents seemed strange. She knew that Reid's mom doted on his two younger sisters, who annoyed him even though he was always making himself available for rom-coms and dating advice. She knew that Ty's family was Jewish and that his dad was the cook while his mom was the baker. She knew a decent amount about Caleb's family because she lived with them. But she didn't know anything about Pogue's parents (besides their careers) because he never brought them up. Jayn bit her lip, worried.

"Pogue? What aren't you telling me about them?" A tiny part of her brain whispered that they were serial killers. Hopefully, that was the dumb part.

Caleb was usually more into mysteries and historical fiction than anything else, especially when the two genres were combined (The Three Musketeers and anything involving Sherlock Holmes were his favorites). Books focusing on romance and intense worldbuilding didn't do it for him. But since he'd found out that his crush, his girlfriend, was the daughter of an urban fantasy author, he decided to try something different. He'd started reading Mr. Keller's novels a couple of weeks after the girls had met him and the others at Nicky's when the book club had been formed. He had only just finished the first book in the series, so he was in no shape to join Cassia, Jayn, Reid, and Ty's meetings...but that didn't mean he couldn't learn a little about the latest addition to the magical story. He was horribly curious that way, wanting to hear as much as he could until there were spoilers.

Thankfully, his curiosity was shushed and nudged to the side when the haunted house became his main focus. He followed Cassia's lead toward the next exit and...ugh. Gore didn't freak him out as much as it disgusted him (there was one of the two reasons why he'd chosen law over medicine). His eyes went straight from the macabre "corpses" that decorated the room, to the walls, so he could look for the exit. Just as he thought he spotted a way out, an actor lunged at him and Cassia, startling him so badly that his doubled portion of the Power reared its ugly head. If he'd been in a room with better lighting, his black sclera would've stood out and scared the shit out of Cass. Thankfully, he reigned in his magic before it could do anything more than make the dim lightbulbs flicker. He managed to tug his girlfriend in the right direction, through some fake cobwebs and past some thunder-and-lightning SFX that poked at his already-shaky skeleton.

Caleb was starting to feel lightheaded. The logical part of his brain, which was buried underneath the worries about that case study he had due in a week, told him that he should probably breathe, as opposed to...well, not breathing. He tried to catch his breath as quietly as possible, not wanting to upset Cassia. After all, she couldn't help him not have anxiety issues. She couldn't erase Chase from his mind any more than she could take the stress out of his brain cells. So he just clenched his jaw and kept going, like he always did, until he realized that the passageway was forcing them into a single-file line. Even if he'd been ten years younger, he wouldn't be able to keep Cass by his side as they moved on to the next room.

"After you," he managed, hoping that she didn't hear how shallowly he was breathing. He would've gone first, but he was busy trying to get himself together. They'd all been having so much fun with the games and conversations...Caleb hadn't even considered how much the haunted house would really affect him. He only ever felt as fragile as he did after he'd had a nightmare, or when his course load was getting to him because he forgot to take his medication.

It was amazing how something as simple as a kiss from his boyfriend could make Aaron feel tough. Then again, he'd stopped having problems with his confidence not long after he had come out. Whatever was going on inside him, Aaron was enjoying his Halloween date with Tyler...even if he kept squealing like a kid every time a fake zombie jumped out from the shadows. And when the actor grabbed his ankle, he let out more than just a squeal.

"SHIIIIT!" he screamed, literally jumping back into Tyler's arms. He blinked, realizing how close Tyler's face was to his, and snogged him properly before he looked for the next exit. "Over here!" He led the way through the creepy greenhouse, and out into some kind of ancient art gallery. There were the paintings you'd see in Scooby Doo, with the eyes that moved if you looked closely, and then there were worn-down statues going all down the hall. At least one was bound to be an actor in cracked grey makeup, so Aaron braced himself as he kept moving forward.

Reid was excited and had a little grin to prove it. Whoever was in charge of the haunted house did a great job, as far as he was concerned. He could see the story behind it all: zombies, or some kind of menacing creature, had rampaged through some rich family's house, and he was the nosy person who decided to check out the crime scene. Cool!

"Reid? Damn, is that you?" He paused, as did the "bloody" guy who was supposed to be scaring him. They looked each other over, then chuckled in recognition.

"Hey, Mar." Marley was Reid (and sometimes Tyler)'s very reliable weed guy, not to mention a former classmate with a penchant for collecting cool seashells and shiny rocks. "Didn't think I'd see you in here..."

"Yeah, well, it's a side gig. Pays kinda nice. Awesome costume, by the way. Wouldn't know it was you besides the blond hair." Reid grinned and bowed dramatically, which made his friend laugh a little. "Alright. Get goin' before I lose my job bein' nice to the customers." The mighty Mothman wished the guy a happy Halloween before he continued on his way. And of course, he was still losing candy as it trickled out of his bag.

[autumn-hiraeth]

I think I saw that requests were still open, and I was wondering if you could make a scenario where Y/N’s been having a bad couple of weeks, so their mental health isn’t exactly the best, and one night they’re standing on top of a building looking down but Hobie stops them and comforts them? I also have another one, but I’ll just make one suggestion at a time 😅

hi, anon! 🪞- Hope you like it! <3

California!

Hobie brown x reader

angst. fluff. Reader has a breakdown. headcanons.

Being a spider!person is hard.

a/n : i wrote this while i was listening California by Lana del rey. You can find more here " hobie's masterlist"

Hobie hasn't seen you in weeks and all he wants is to kiss you, maybe push you against a wall and give you a taste of what you gonna get when you two go home. However, your lover knows you so well that he knows something is wrong with you 'cause you're so quiet and don't even seem to realize that he's in the same room with you.

When Hobie wants to get close to you, Miguel is sending you two on another mission.

But his eyes are on you at all times though, Hobie knows the anomaly must be caught but you're his priority. Always. Hobie is aware that you're in the same place as him, but you're not really with him. So when you both catch the anomaly he follows you 'cause he definitely isn't leaving you alone.

You take off your mask when you reach the top of the building, you still can't remove that pressure on your chest and while you close your eyes remembering the hard weeks you've had you feel less excited to continue with all the responsibilities that came with being you; take care of your universe, fight against anomalies, not fail in college and above all keep lying to everyone you love just to protect them. You thought maybe Miguel could give you a break, but he's not making it easy. "That's how this job works Y/n...". You just wanna go back to your universe and hide in your room (as if that could give you comfort) but instead you're in another universe and you don't even realize your lover is next to you. Watching your moves.

Suddenly you're standing too close to the edge of the building and you're looking down; what if.. ? You wanna take another step, it's an intrusive thought and yet Hobie is always there to support you; he holds your arm carefully before you can do anything.

"what are you doin' luv?" he tries to joke but he's really worried. "Just watching" you lie and he knows it, but he doesn't say anything, he just pulls you to wrap his hands around your body, his hand caressing up and down your back while your head rest on his chest, feeling his heart pounding for you.

"You know you don't have to be stronger than you already are when you're in my arms luv" your lover whispers while you sob weakly "I got you hun" he mutters, leaving a kiss on your temple

"This is so hard Hobie, I didn't think it could be that hard" your voice cracks, you've reached your limit and he doesn't make you feel weak about it.

Hobie knows how hard it is, so he hugs you tight as he whispers words of comfort "it's okay, we're going to get through this" "I'm here Y/n, lean on me" "you're so brave luv " Hobie knows he can't protect you from the hard life that comes with being a spider person and he hates it but he'll make it easier for you, he'd do anything for you.

[twstfanblog]

Honestly, I just love to hear you rant!!! My request is any au you choose, with Crewel, Rook, and Vil, together or separate, your choice!!! I think your rants are super sweet and sound so much like my own to my friends!!! It kinda makes me think of when I spent 30 minutes trying to find out how much a pint of ale cost in 1843 England for one sentence in something I was writing! 😅 Too bad I'm already following you, because I would totally follow you again! Can't send the Tumblr gift thingies though, because screw American capitalism.

(That price of ale thing is literally how deep I get into world building if Im not careful XD Most days I just go, IT'S FINE YOU DON'T KNOW JUST KEEP WRITING)

Hmmmm... I've written about them all a lot in most of my AU's, honestly. I dont have anything really rant worthy left to say about...I literally had a whole hour to think about it, so instead, I'm just gonna drop another AU so I can get you something new about them. My Manhwa AU is pretty self-serving, but it's got plenty of Vil, Rook, and Crewel sprinkled in.

Basic idea of the AU is that 'Villainess' type story. Yuu was seen as a villain in the original timeline, only to die and come back in time to when she was a child with her full memories. She vows to change her ways and not die in such a way again.

Crewel and Crowley are Yuu's birth parents (Because my AU's are just the same universes in different settings-oop) Crewel married Crowley 100% for the money and power since Crowley was an arch duke. You couldn't call it a marriage of convenience hard enough. But of course, Crewel had to have a puppy to fufill his duty. Crewel will openingly treat Crowley like the bumbling man he pretends to be, but he is an adoring yet stern father to his precious puppy. So you can imagine when she wakes up one day and doesn't act like herself at all. He's so concerned about her...

Vil isn't nobility, but he and his father are both rich and popular enough to buy a title. Both actors, Vil leaves for the performance to the point he was called a succubus by one of his cast stars (teenagers acting so good one falls in love but the other is like 'dude we were acting, calm down'). Vil holds onto his issues with always being casted as a villain but he holds it in much better because hes just happy that he's well liked enough to always perform. As he gets older in this AU he starts to really show his support for the arts and all who create it. He's even started looking for investors to help him fund an acting school.

Rook is a noble man, lover of the odd and offbeat art, no one but his family really accepted his art. But he tried and he shared it with everyone he could. Vil saw it during an artshow and kinda tore it apart publicly by going on and on about how disturbed it made him feel. The current brownnoser tried to 'agree' saying it was bad art.

Vil:

Vil: There's no such thing as "bad art", you toad. I said it disturbed me, I find it grotesque is a very...eyecatching way. It's not bad because it made me feel something.

So Rook falls in love instantly and basically hunts this mean beauty.

They end up working well together because Vil has FINALLY found someone willing to write him in a hero role and PROPERLY CRITIQUE THINGS WITH. They discus art and what makes something 'moving' vs 'shock value'. They fall in love hard for each other to the point Vil accepted Rook's proposal and is already 60% planned through their wedding. Only to realize he never told anyone when his dad asked if he was open to seeing anyone because he's been told many a young man and lady would like to court him.

(SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO DO!!!)

[artsybug0]

Hey what specism or racism do puppets experience

Well! It's what you'd probably think!

Frillsand, aka the creator of the Actor Au, said that the Au is based off of both The Happytime Murders and Cats Don't Dance.

My main focus is on The Happytime Murders!

(WARNING: THIS MOVIE CONTAINS VIOLENCE, ADULT FUN TIME, STRONG LANGUAGE, AND OVERALL IS A VERY RATED R MOVIE SO PLEASE KEEP ALL OF THAT IN MIND IF YOU WATCH IT. Though I do recommend it if you're unbothered by any of that because it's super funny and fun for me to watch😂)

Anyways! In the Actor Au, its world is pretty much like the world in this movie! (as far as I understand from talking with Frillsand! Of course, I might make some errors so it's always best to ask them these kinds of questions! But I think I know enough to answer this at least)

Puppets live alongside humans but are VERY CLEARLY treated as if they aren't exactly like humans besides appearance and how their bodies work.

Despite being just as intelligent as humans, puppets are treated really badly. Constantly being bad-mouthed right to their face. And having a difficult time just living. In the movie, puppets can't even be cops!

Besides starring in children's shows and or having very crappy jobs. They don't have many opportunities :(

Puppets often experience hate crimes against them, being insulted daily, having their body parts torn off, being fearful of dogs that might mistake them as chew toys, and being seen as very easy targets.

Of course, Humans still find appeals from puppets in “other” ways too.

Maybe you can see why Millie uses her looks to her advantage now?

She lives in a city full of cruel humans, it's a daily thing for her to at least experience some kind of racism or speciesm against her like at least three times.

It's difficult to get a good-paying job! Or just a job for that matter!

So once she fully realizes “Hey, I'm hot as fuck! Plenty of humans and puppets want me!” she fully uses that to her advantage. Giving herself a comfortable enough life that she doesn't stress about living on the streets and having to sell her body.

She was VERY fortunate to get that acting job (despite the fact she didn't even want it-) and currently is very well off thanks to Wally.

Again, I recommend watching this movie for a better understanding. Or better yet, ask Frillsand! I'm sure I made some kind of errors in the world-building! Or something might have changed! But I hope you helped you a bit!

Sorry if its a little confusing, I kinda just word-vomited on this😅

[utilitycaster]

would love to see your take on the recent laudna-delilah merge! i believe you've mentioned before that you found laudna stale (?) so i'm very interested to know if this feels compelling to you. i'm DISGUSTED and scared 😅

I LOVE IT. I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT IT.

In all seriousness my issue has always been that Delilah has for the most part been not just an unfired Chekhov's gun but like...a gun that occasionally thrusts itself into the hands of a major character who was designed to handle this gun and yet everyone including that character was, for like, the majority of the play, repeatedly saying "oh man it's that wacky gun again!" and really, the gun was way cooler when it was fired in an earlier play in 2017.

You can play a warlock without a complex relationship to their patron! Loquatius is a solid example; Elmenore and he are on pretty chill terms and he's mostly a bard and it's a story not about that aspect of him anyway. Zahra is another; she and Sirius appear to be largely simpatico! But if you pick Delilah Fucking Briarwood as your patron you best come correct, and, increasingly, finally, following episode 77, Marisha has and it's been great and it finally expanded into the rest of the party.

I love how quick Laudna is to trust Delilah on this even though she knows Delilah lies, she knows about the gnarlrock. I love how Imogen immediately stands by her and Fearne is inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt, only to slowly, with mounting horror, realize (or, more likely, reluctantly admit to themselves) that this is Delilah's doing and that Laudna either won't or can't resist. Because that's the immediate threat - sure, it says something about Laudna's character and victimhood whether she is doing this deliberately, or whether she cannot overcome the compulsions from Delilah, and for what it's worth I think it's somewhere in the gray area between - but in the end it matters most that Laudna as an entity comprising both herself and Delilah is going to pull shit like attacking people in their sleep to steal magic items to feed to the evil undead wizard. She's more sympathetic if she's trying but failing, but in the end, if we can return to the (imperfect but not uncalled for) addiction metaphor Marisha has invoked re: Laudna, whether you drive drunk because you were in recovery and were triggered by circumstance and fell off the wagon, or whether you simply don't care, you're still drunk driving and someone still can be killed. Intent says a lot about your character but not whether you're a danger to yourself and others, and Laudna undeniably is.

I'm honestly happy with basically any outcome here. I think it will be narratively easier if Laudna doesn't really resist much, given that that's what she's been doing for 30 years and much of the campaign; foreshadowing is a complicated thing in an improvised medium but I think it's hard to deny that a tragic ending hasn't been well signaled. But I think it's possible for Marisha to thread the needle, particularly if she keeps putting in stellar performances like that one, to have Laudna snap and turn on Delilah. It's doing wonders for my thoughts on Imogen and Laudna's relationship too; finally there's some unavoidable tension and conflict to the point that even if they deny it that creates more conflict. I don't know if they'll overcome it, but I don't think we can have gnarlrock all sizzle no steak #2 this time. I think Imogen's going to have to make a stand of some kind, even if it pains her.

[watchingblsnowandforever]

We Are Ep. 11

Part 2

Hello again!!!

Here's part 1 of this post. It's not necessary to read that, but this does follow directly from there.

Warning: long post 😊😅

And again, we see Phum coming here for no reason but to drop Peem off.

Also, he usually just stayed in the car previously, but now he's walking with Peem all the way.

I reckon we'll be seeing much more of Phum appearing in front of the Fine Arts building for nothing but to drop off or talk to his boyfriend Peem, in a slight reflection of all the times he came here to take Peem off somewhere to make him do something for him.

And I can't wait for it. <3

Q: something very gay is going on here hmm 🤨

Be glad it's Q (who has enough tact to ask you about it in private) and not Toey who'd immediately call y'all out 😭

He played in water all day with Phum and then they cuddled all night. Next question.

Poor Peem 😭

You just confessed you woke up together 😭

And you think someone as smart (most of the times) as Q wouldn't catch on?

[Also, just an observation: Peem is painting a scenery with water here too.]

Beer knows everything. 😌

He's the only one in their combined friend groups with two braincells, and he has no difficulty calling out his friends (Phum) when they're being idiots.

And again 😭

I see it's not your turn with the braincell yet, Peem

Also, the chicken sounds in the background I was dying 😭😂

Phum's backstory was painful to hear, but I kind of expected something like this. It would explain his attachment to plushies, his fear of losing people and behaviour that might seem "childish".

SO CUTE OH MY GODS

Q gives his beloved pencil case to his beloved nong Toey to draw on, and what does Toey do? Make the most adorable doodle of his beloved P'Q 😭👍🏼

Seriously though, this is really good, and it also probably has a beautiful symbolism that I'm too lazy to go into right now 😭

Coming from Q that means a lot. And Toey knows that very well.

Again, what secretly, you're both about as subtle as the glaring sun on a hot summer day.

And it's time you two idiots (affectionate) get your shit together and kiss as boyfriends (gods know you've kissed as... whatever you are right now more times than I can keep count).

Yeah! You're talking nonsense, Phum, it's obvious you fell first!

*sigh* honestly though, at this point, I don't know how, but they managed to be worse than even ChainPun.

Jokes apart, I know they're both a bit insecure, and they didn't get off to the best start. But I hope that in the next ep, they'll realize they're both head over heels for the other and finally start dating.

Also, about time Peem finally accepted Phum as his personal driver <3

That scene in the shop was very sweet too, and most PhumPeem scenes in this ep had me going all gooey and mushy hehe

This show I calling me out 🥲

But I'm even worse because I can only make Maggi (with or without added condiments) 😭

Do y'all see the importance of this moment?!

Phum in the painting studio?!

This painting studio is Peem's safe space, and he's allowing Phum in there willingly.

Slowly, but surely, he's letting Phum in, and starting to accept that yes, this guy is an idiot, but he's an idiot Peem really really likes.

I knew this was coming but that didn't mean I was ready for it 🫣😳

TanFang are absolutely slaying

Love them. <3

This scene is a goddamn masterpiece. It rendered me speechless. What am I supposed to say to that?

Peem's soft little "You did a great job, getting through those times." has me in a chokehold. The nose boop, the kiss- I'm screaming crying rolling around on the bed.

Tried to do a confident walk away but the gate was in his way 😭

Peem is me though, I bump into things like thrice a day at the least.

He- 😶

I gasped at this scene, because you realize what this means right?

This painting, that was ruined due to Phum, that he had to painstakingly repaint while having to obey Phum's whims, this painting that represents his comfort (I don't know shit about art interpretation, but in grade 12 I had friends who'd taken art and I learnt a couple things from them), that represents himself, and in this painting, he adds bright red roses, for the ones that Phum gave him when he was driving him back because he was absolutely wasted, the roses he didn't have the heart to throw out.

And he's drawing these red roses to represent Phum, to show that inexplicably, but undeniably, Phum is a part of his life now; a part he likes enough to embed in one of his most prized paintings (as assumed from various context clues and such along the series). And when he does, he thinks of how Professor Po said "Every work you create contains a piece of you".

If this doesn't show that despite his caustic and sarcastic exterior, Peem is a sappy mushy romantic at heart (he is a Fine Arts student after all), I don't know what does.

This moment felt so poetic (I literally could write a poem about it and it still wouldn't be able to capture the raw beauty and vulnerability and love of this scene.)

Update: I really did write a poem about it 😭

I really like this scene.

Apart from not leaving Kluen hanging, and making sure he knows, this moment is also about Peem admitting to himself aloud, that yes, he does like Phum. He's slowly getting out of De Nile.

He didn't have to say this, but he did. To gently reject Kluen and tell himself that there was no going back now.

Matt: what in the gay chicken-

Toey: ooh this seems interesting. will they kiss? 👀

Poor Chain 😭

Let him enjoy being shipped with his husband bestie!

And all the while these two are having a staring contest to decide who'll tell their friends.

Beer knows exactly what's going on.

This moment is everything to me (other than the one in the painting studio of course).

Peem tried to muster the courage to tell all his friends that he and Phum were... well, more than enemies or friends at least, but he couldn't.

And Phum, my beloved, while more than a little emotionally constipated, he has consistently tried to tell Peem what he feels. And now, he's the one outright saying he likes Peem in front of everyone. He's the one saying "okay, if you can't, I will." And I love him for it. He does it while staring right at Peem too.

Live Reactions of Friends Who Just Found Out that the Guy Who Ruined Other Guy's Painting and The Other Guy, Who Kicked Him In The Balls For It, Have Fallen Victim to the BL Laws and Are Now Very Much In Love.

Beer: knew it 😌

Fang: my little brother?!

Tan: YOU AREN'T SWORN ENEMIES?!

Matt: I have to deal with another couple?? 🥺🥲

Q: I'm not drunk enough to deal with this shit.

Toey: wait... I WAS RIGHT?!!

That freaking cliffhanger though 🥲

It's better now but at the moment I wanted to commit homicide 😭

I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself, Q's "RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD?!" expression is just too hilarious 😭😂

So that's all for ep 11, see you next week!

And if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! 😊

Here, have a burger and some fries 🍔🍟

[If you want, my previous posts: Ep. 8 Ep.9 Ep.10]

[mslanna]

Could I request Raphael having an 'Oh, fuck' moment of realization regarding the fact he has fallen for his little mouse? He would definitely realize that this is something that others could use against him.

I may have forgotten about one part of the prompt. 😅 Enby Tav without body configuratiion. Find it on AO3

Sharess' Caress' Super Special

"I knew you would be back." Raphael couldn't help the smug satisfaction mirrored in his smile. He had laid the perfect trap for his little mouse. And as much as Tav tried to evade it, they simply could not. He had made sure of that.

"You waited patiently." Tav sauntered across the room as if they owned it.

"As an immortal, I have all the time in the world. Unlike you." He leant against the desk and looked them over. No signs of transformation were visible on his little mouse. The illithid tried and failed where he, Raphael, would triumph – seducing Tav to his side.

"I'm making the most of it." Tav looked around the room. "Do you?"

"Whatever gave you the impression I am idle just because I reserve special treatment for my favourite future client?" He poured a glass of wine and held it out to them.

"The room doesn't look as if it sees a lot of action." Tav ignored the wine and idly kicked at the petals. "A shame, really. People will promise you anything just before coming."

Raphael took a deep breath. "I do not need to rely on such – crude methods. I reap more than enough souls with less effort."

"Works, though. And, in case you wonder, I don't think I own my soul any longer." Tav grinned insolently. "Promised it to the drow twins. Repeatedly, I think."

Cold acid accumulated in Raphael's stomach. Those charlatans. Not even real twins but counting on the inability of other races to keep drow apart. To think that those two had their hands, and more, all over his client enraged Raphael disproportionally. The fact that Tav enjoyed it enough to offer up their soul-

It was an information to keep close at hand. Nothing else. Not an insult, not an invitation. Though it should be one. He would show that mouse what the worth of their soul was. They'd be begging, crying for release under his hands.

Raphael balled his right into a careful fist. That was not the kind of thought he should be having. Yet the vision would not leave. Tav. Dishevelled. Flushed. Pupils dilated, mouth half open. No. Mouth forming his name and dropping it syllable by syllable to his rhythm.

His nails dug into the flesh of his palms and for once, Raphael was glad not to be in his true form. This was unworthy of him. Just because the room he rented was in a brothel- But that wasn't it. Nobody else had coaxed this reaction from him. He glared at Tav who still stood in the middle of the room, scrutinising the set-up.

"If you would rather exchange pleasure of the flesh for your soul instead of the Orphic Hammer for the Crown of Karsus, something can be arranged." Raphael was proud of his disinterested tone.

Finally, Tav looked at him, at the goblet of wine in his hand. They tilted their head. "Is that an exclusionary decision? Only one or the other?"

Raphael swallowed. The hot flash of anger, certainly anger, at hearing about Tav's exploits had led him to make an unwise offer. Still. Tav was this close to give up their soul. He smiled. "Would you like it to be?"

Tav closed the distance and plucked the cup from his hand. They took a slow sip, savouring the heavy taste of the carefully chosen wine. "If it is, you know I have to choose the Orphic Hammer. To save the world and defer my own desires."

"Such a pity." He lowered his voice and ran a finger along Tav's jaw.

"Says he who almost throws a hissy fit when he hears I fuck somebody else. And enjoy it." Tav grinned and caught his finger with a flick of their head.

Soft lips closed around the tip of his finger and after a wicked wink, Tav circled it with their tongue. Raphael suppressed a moan. Damned mortal. And he did not throw a hissy fit. Tav was free to fuck whoever they wanted – as long as that was him. They were his little mouse and he would give them all they needed. All he wanted.

Raphael pushed his index finger behind Tav's teeth, curled it and pulled them close. "Did your mother never teach not to taunt a devil?" he growled.

"Even if she did, she never dealt with a devil like you." Tav spoke around his finger, tongue teasing him recklessly.

The sensations ran through Raphael's body unchecked, pooling between his legs and parching his mouth. He caught Tav's jaw between his thumb and middle finger, probing their mouth and tongue. Tav held his gaze and suspicion rose in the devil that their confession was not as innocent as they pretended.

"Neither have you." He retrieved his finger and watched as Tav's tongue followed it, still sneaking around its tip. "But since you seem so eager to, that can be arranged."

"Took your sweet time." Tav pressed against him to place the goblet on the desk behind him. Then their hands settled over his ass. When he squirmed, Tav rocked their hips against his, still grinning greedily. "Not that I regret what I had to do to get here, mind you. The twins are good."

Raphael growled. He'd show Tav that those were nothing compared to a devil who did you.

[recreationalfanfics]

Hi 💞I just discovered your account and I read all of Ror yandere's posts and I think your writing is the best I've ever read for Ror ✨✨. So I decided to place an order. This is the first time I order on any account 😅 So what about yandere poseidon, Thor, Buda, hades (if you don't read the manga, put Loki instead of him please) with a reader like Hinata Hyuga, shy, sweet, and heir to a powerful clan, but people think she's Weak and they prefer her sister, and she loves someone other than the yandere, and that other person is not aware of her feelings, and he loves another girl. You can choose if the reader is a god or a human. English is not my first language, so sorry if it is not understood 💀💀

I READ HINATA HYUGA AND INSTANTLY KNEW I HAD TO DO THIS REQUEST, SHE IS MY QUEEN. The reader will be human! I ALSO WANTED TO ADD THOR BUT I DIDN'T HAVE THE MOTIVATION SORRY-

chsjgjejc, she's so pretty I'm gonna cry

Yandere! Buddha x Hinata Hyuga! Reader:

- He loves you from right off the bat okay, your beliefs align so well with his and while people seemed to be ignorant about your strength, though he supposes thats what he liked most about you. You weren't just a demure and anxious woman, you had so many more layers to you.

- You were loving, absolutely passionate about those whom you loved and cared about. From your first fight, you showed your true strength and it really impressed Buddha.

- I'm gonna be honest, his feelings for you were genuinely wholesome and sweet from the start. He liked you and he was nice to you, yet when he tried to approach you romantically; you didn't shy away but confidently told him there was someone else. He was dissapointed...ah...so you already had a s/o? He shouldn't be surprised, you're amazing-

- Oh...they weren't your s/o? That's...interesting. He starts to look into this mortal that you seem to be so infatuated with and, well, he doesn't like what he finds. This person has the most desirable person in the world at their feet and they just act like she isn't there???

- How!? Buddha's world light's up once you enter the room. Everything around him seems brighter and more full of life, much so to the point that he notices when you're not around him, everything feels more lonely and sad. It doesn't make sense how they have you in the palm of their hands and yet, still want to have someone else.

- Buddha's obsession LITERALLY starts because of this, he is so close to winning your heart, he knows it! Every shy smile you give him when you compliment him, the way you blush but thank him when he hands you a snack, and how you confide in him. He nearly has you, his heart at his fingertips. But then that person just smiles at you once and you're cruelly pulled back to them. Maintaining a one-sided loyalty.

- Buddha is definetly one of the more smarter yanderes, he could actually manage to manipulate you into giving up your crush. Yeah, he might stalk and spy on you in secret but he'll project his yandere tendencies onto you. Saying how he's concerned with YOUR obsessive behavior (all while keeping his own a secret) and manipulating you saying it was selfish of you to hold onto them when they want someone else. He asks: "Do you truly love them? Because if you were, you'd let them find their happiness...even if it doesn't include you..."

- If he manages to get through to you, perfect! He just needs to capture your interest which isn't hard (look at that man and tell me you wouldn't fall in love, I dare you) since he'd help you recover from your broken heart and put all the broken pieces together. He is now the one you look at during fights, he is now the one you devote your endless love too, and it gives him such an ego boost.

- Yeah, maybe he didn't take his own device but in his defense; you were already the perfect and ideal match for him and he knew you'd love him back...he just had to get rid of the little nuisance that was keeping you from realizing your true feelings.

- If there is the slight chance you do realize he's trying to manipulate you or that your feelings are too strong for your crush, he will just straight up tell you that they DO NOT LOVE YOU. THEY WILL NEVER LOVE YOU. NOT THE WAY HE DOES. Why...why can't you see that???

Yandere! Poseidon x Hinata Hyuga! Reader:

- NO BECAUSE, LIKE, IF THE READER IS HINATA THEN POSEIDON IS DEFINETLY TONERI, JUST A BIT DIFFERENT BUT BASICALLY: POSEIDON FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU, A NEW GODDESS.

- LIKE, HE ABSOLUTELY FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU SOMEHOW DESPITE YOU BEING A HUMAN (to clarify: you caught his eye when you were a legal consenting adult) AND THAT YOU DEFINETLY HAD AN EFFECT ON HIM WITHOUT REALIZING IT.

- He admired you so much and loved you so dearly, in his mind, he hated all humans but maybe...maybe YOU were the one destined for him, you did not digust him at all, and while everyone in your clan had exceptional talent, YOU were the best, even being deemed as "The Bykaugan Princess".

- When you enter Ragnarok, you do it to protect humanity but also for love...Sadly, not for Poseidon's love but for the love of a human who didn't even notice you! One who you gave your heart and soul too and yet, they didn't even spare a second glance in your direction.

- While Poseidon loved you, he hated the person you fell in love with because they reminded him of every aspect he hated about humanity. Their arrogance for taking your love for granted, their ignorance as they never noticed the longing looks that you gave them, and their obnoxiousness as they casually brushed you off. YOU WERE FIGHTING IN RAGNAROK BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO PROTECT HUMANITY, BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY: THEM.

- It IRKED Poseidon because he was jealous of a human. He doesn't blame you for having a crush on them, he sees how gentle your heart is and how your kindness is simply too much for your heart to hold for itself so you share it with others.

- No, he was upset at everyone around you. Those who talked down to you, looked down at you for how you acted (even though you couldn't help but be a living symbol of elegance and perfection) but if they had watched you like Poseidon had, that you were far from what they thought about you. You were mighty and you were strong, especially for those who you loved.

- He wanted to romance you, he truly did. He showed his softer self to you when he was able to be around you and tried his best to not look so intimidating but it just wasn't enough. For some reason, that disgusting person you adored was taking Poseidon's place in your heart. It was their fault he couldn't court you like how he wanted because they somehow made you obsessed with him!

- He had to resort to such nasty methods. Maybe he kidnapped your sister like how Toneri did and made you marry him to garuntee her safety. Maybe he threatened to use his position as a God to make sure your little crush suffers, hell, you did kill one of his fellow Gods so he's sure he could get some other God's in targeting your crush as revenge.

- He hated seeing that fearful look on your face but when you finally submitted to him, he couldn't deny it made his heart beat faster. He knows you only went because you care too much about people but he isn't too upset because he knows, after a while, you will realize that HE is the one you should be obsessed with and loyally devoted to because unlike that pathetic human, he will return it ten fold♡

Yandere! Loki x Hinata Hyuga! Reader:

- Aw, you're a pathetic little mouse, aren't you?~ You started out as an obsession right off the bat to him, honestly. Your eyes are what caught his attention but you were so timid and neglected, poor thing♡ He approached you long before the fights started but saw you during the preparations of the whole thing and ah, you were simply too adorable to resist.

- But then when he sees you fight with the Gentle Fist technique for the first time then he is obsessed with you, so the little mouse does have some fight in her, huh? And yet, as soon as the battle is over and he pins you to the wall after your victory. You start to get nervous and stutter and he chuckles and murmurs a: "How precious~" before he lets you scamper off like the cute mouse you are.

- He borders on the line of being all lovey dovey with you and being absolutely mean to you. Like, you're upset because you realized Brunhilde meant to pick your sister instead and asked if you were willing to trade but you just tried to argue that you can handle it...well, tried. You ended up nearly in tears so Brunhilde left to "give you sometime to think it over." which really meant she just couldn't deal with you.

- "Aw, poor little mouse, once more; only the second choice to their big sister." Loki teased. You tried to wipe your tears, not wanting him to he mean to you like he usually is but you couldn't stop them. He just feigns another sound of sympathy as he reaches over and brushes your tears away with his thumb and squishes your face cutely as he smiles, "If it helps, I think that you're much better than your big sister. She's so mean and boring, but you're simply adorable."

- His bullying can also stem from the fact that you love someone other than him, which pisses him off. Usually, he'd be angry at you but he's even angrier when he sees that the person you've given your heart too DOESN'T EVEN WANT IT. AND YET YOU NEVER GIVE UP TRYING TO PROVE YOURSELF WHEN LOKI IS RIGHT THERE. Okay maybe he's a little mad at you but only because despite your all-seeing eye, HE IS BETTER FOR YOU. Yes he's a little mean but that's just because he loves you♡

- He'll bully your crush out of you too. Mocking you for wanting someone who doesn't want you, how you should just give up on them because they're never going to notice you, not the way that Loki does. They will never love you.

- And as your once more crying from his hurtful words, he once more pulls you into a gentle and loving hug and nuzzles his face into your neck: "Aw, they're never gonna want you. Not when that girl is a much better match for them. So you should just give up and be with me instead! I can be so much more for you♡"

- He truly does envy your crush, though. When you're not being sad, you truly are beautiful. The shy yet dreamy smiles you have, the way your eyes flare with admiration and pure love, your face becoming so beautiful that no painting or photo could truly capture your beauty. Loki gets upset when he gets reminded that its not for him.

- He will shape-shift into your crush sometimes as a cruel joke but you never fall for it because of your eyes, but he'll taunt you with it and be all: "Would you give me a kiss now, (Y/n)? Hmm? If I looked like them? If I acted like them?" and you just look him dead in the eyes, your confidence coming out as you glare and say: "No, because my heart belongs to them. And you will never be them."

- You're so pathetic in his eyes. He could destroy you for talking to him like that and you both knew it, yet you risked it all because you loved this person with such passion from the depths of your heart. You fought for humanity not just because it was right but because they'd be destroyed along with it and you'd never let any harm come to them. You will unfailingly run to them again and again just to get your heartbroken but you're willing to endure it because you love them. And as Loki feels what could only be described as heartbreak from your words, he realizes that you've made him just as pathetic as you are...

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Idk I think it makes sense that dream Vil doesn't appear "older" in dream, like maybe he's not able to choose to picture himself as older/doesn't necessarily want to (which I mean, after going through all that in Ch. 6, I wouldn't blame him).

Another idea maybe he perceives himself as older while in-dream and it's just the audience who doesn't see him that way because it isn't presented externally.

But regardless, the point is that Vil isn't presented as older while in dream is likely due to a number of variables that aren't necessarily in his control. Personally, I feel that the fact that he presents himself as what appears to be the same age actually demonstrates a change in his outlook regarding his future after going through the events of Book 6 but that's another story for another time

[Referencing this post!}

Oooh, possibly??? I don't even think the aging thing has to be as extreme as what happened in book 6; even a middle aged Vil would have been acceptable to show that us that he isn't afraid of his beauty fading with time. I also feel that it is well within the devs' abilities to provide a middle-aged Vil (since they provided the very old Vil), though I do also think it's possible that Vil is older but it isn't reflected in his physical looks (possibly 20s to early 30s, when your appearance does not change much).

Pinpointing intention is a big mess 😅 since technically Malleus is casting the spell... but the spell can run on its own... but the spell has to pull from a dreamer's experiences and memories to craft the dream... Real clusterfuck 💦

But yeah, I think there's definitely a point to be made about the limitations of what the dream can do. I realized just now that the dreams we've been in so far cover only past and present, never really the future. If a mage cannot imagine something, it's harder for them to cast a spell--so rather than Malleus not having "developed" the magic yet, it's more realistic to say that even for a mage as powerful as Malleus, he's limited to doing only to what he can imagine (or maybe wants to imagine?). Because of this, he cannot exactly counter that which he does not understand (ie technology like how Ortho transferred his consciousness), nor the futures he does not wish to consider. Turns out his worst enemy is his own inability to accept change 💀 and because of that, it feels like many of the dreams his magic spins lack any real depth; they focus so much on immediate and extremely convenient gratification.

[yumeka-sxf]

I was surprised we got another Yuri-focused chapter so soon, considering we just finished the Mole Hunt arc...but it was a good chapter nonetheless!

Chloe is a great character to help with Yuri's development, the reason being because she not only knows his true identity, but she also has known him for many years, as this chapter reveals. Unlike his superiors, Yuri seems more comfortable with Chloe, probably because she doesn't have authority over him, but she's also not afraid to point out his flaws. So yeah, I'm glad she's becoming a reoccurring character. Yuri really needs someone he can talk to with whom he doesn't have to hide anything from, but who also sticks with him despite knowing how cringe his personality is. I do hope we'll see more of Chloe bringing out Yuri's relatable side in the future.

Speaking of which, Twilight has Franky (and Sylvia somewhat) who fills this role for him - someone he can talk freely with who knows his true identity, but they also sense the goodness in him that he tries to hide. Yor, however, doesn't have anyone like this, at least not yet. Olka filled that role well during the cruise arc, but it's very unlikely we'll see her again. While McMahon and Shopkeeper know Yor's true identity, their relationship with her has been very business-like, not casual like Twilight/Franky and Chloe/Yuri. It almost seems like Melinda could fill that role for Yor, except for the important detail that she doesn't know Yor's true identity...OR DOES SHE???

Anyway, back to today's chapter, we find out that Yuri can also withstand getting hit by vehicles, and both siblings can smell/sense the other's presence!? And yet, a slap from Chloe hurt Yuri more than getting hit by a truck?! I would say that's too much, but I guess it's not that unusual for characters in shonen series 😅But I have to agree with Chloe on this line...

I also find it a bit sad that Yuri thinks Yor wouldn't like the idea of him having a girlfriend. I wish they discussed more about this, but it just goes to show that, as close as Yuri and Yor are, there are some very obvious things about each other that they don't know. Of course we as well as Chloe know that Yor would be happy if Yuri is happy with a girlfriend, or any friend really. But to Yuri, it seems like having an intimate relationship equates to not being diligent enough at his job, maybe? Or maybe he thinks Yor would see it as a betrayal of his dedication to her? Either way, he's flat-out wrong about that obviously. Hopefully he'll realize it someday.

I cracked up when we got the glimpse of all the Yor photos in Yuri's house 😂 I hope Anya visits his home one day...would love to see her expression about this! (also he names his attacks after Yor too, I can't 🤣)

Even though Yuri misunderstood what Chloe meant when she told him not to be so reckless, by the end of the chapter he did have a thought on his own about how getting rid of Loid would make Yor sad. Of course he tries to deny that by bringing up the gripes she supposedly had with him, and of course Yor, who's always so flustered about her feelings, can't straight up tell him that she likes/loves Loid. So back to square one I guess...?

But even though this chapter may turn out like the last one and just be a standalone that doesn't lead to the next big arc, I can't help but think it's hinting at a "Yuri discovers who Twilight really is" scenario. For all we know that could be the first identity reveal of the series. It makes sense since, unlike identity reveals among the Forgers, this wouldn't necessarily result in the series heading towards an end. Even if Yuri discovered Twilight's identity, he could choose to keep it to himself for a while and nothing else would change. I don't like to speculate too much, but I feel this is a possibility with all the "Yuri vs Twilight" mentions we've had lately.

As always, just gotta wait and see!

[billlydear]

BASIC BIOLOGY - BILLY HARGROVE X READER (PART ONE) | PART TWO | PART THREE

word count: 4926 // masterlist | inbox (please request) | WIP list

Summary: you're paired with billy for a biology project. you only visit his house once, but it's enough for you to understand why he doesn't want you to come over again. when he starts showing up more and more in your life, you realize that it's basic biology: you were made for him, and he was made for you.

Contents: gn!reader (let me know if i made a mistake on that anywhere!), the climax is a scene that's based on 2.8 (?) where billy finds out that max is missing, and neil shoves him into the closet and slaps him. it's not word-for-word, it's about a different scenario, but it's the same fight. please don't read this if it'll trigger you. fluff, angst, eventual happy ending.

A/N: i hope that you enjoy this! it's been a brainworm of mine for a while, and i'm thrilled to have the first part finished. let me know what you think! I honestly think that this could just be read as a one-shot, so don't let the 'part one' deter you 😅

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

To say that you’re not thrilled about your partner assignment for this biology project is an understatement. Billy Hargrove, said partner, is smoking out the window, and you’re not even sure if he’s heard that you’re partners yet. The most he gives you is a steady glance from across the room, but you think that he might have just felt you burning a hole in the side of his head with your imploring gaze. 

When you’re all released to plan with your partners he makes no move to stand. He only curls his lips tighter around the cigarette and sucks down smoke.

You bite the bullet and stand, clutching your assignment sheet in your hands that are growing sweaty with nerves.

“Hi,” You supply lamely, taking the seat next to him that’s been vacated by his previous seatmate, “I guess we’re partners, then.”

“I guess.” He drawls, tilting his head towards the window to let smoke billow from between his lips. “So, what, you wanna come to mine?”

You freeze. He’s more forward than you’d expected. “Uh,” You thumb through the notes you’d taken, the project rubric, “Like- like today? After school?”

“Yeah,” He hangs his arm out the window to snuff the cigarette out on the sil, “My folks won’t be home ‘til late. We’ll have time to work.”

“Okay,” You agree cautiously, glancing over at his empty rubric sheet, concerningly devoid of notes, “Uh, what’s your address?”

“I’ll just drive you,” He glances at the clock, showcasing three minutes to dismissal, “I’ve gotta take my stepsister home too, though, so we’ll pull into the middle school first.”

“Oh. Thank you,” You blink, fingers curling tight around your papers, “I’ll, uh- go get my stuff.”

You rush back to your seat to pack your bag with a strange haze over your thoughts. Everyone knew Billy, what he wanted, what he did. He was notoriously forward, and though he had been straight to the point, you hadn’t felt like... prey. Still, something tugged at the pit of your stomach, a warning to be careful.

The bell rings and you turn, finding a pair of worn boots in your line of sight. You glance up at the wearer, finding Billy already waiting for you.

“Uh, sorry,” You stammer, rushing to stand and subsequently hitting your head on the desk, “Fuck-!”

“Jesus,” Billy chuckles, and you’re worried you’ll analyze the sound and find components of mockery in it, “Careful.”

“It’s fine,” You hiss, but before you can rub at the spot you’d hit, Billy’s hand is there, mussing your hair and pushing you forwards, towards the door of the class. It’s something you’d do to your clumsy younger brother, and it feels odd coming from the chain smoking California kid everyone talks about.

“My stepsister’s out in twenty,” He informs you, a presence on your left as you walk out the front doors of the school, “So we’ve got, like, fifteen minutes to talk about our plan, if you want.”

“That’s good,” You hum, trailing after him to an impressively flashy car, “I think we should just draw everything. I know she said we could use clay, but that costs more, and I’ve already got colored pencils.”

“Fine by me,” He makes for the passenger door first, throwing it open and gesturing for you to get in, “You can put your bag in the back.”

When you’re seated, he shuts the door for you, and you’re oddly grateful for the gesture. It’s kind, and once more, out of character for the stereotypes you’ve heard about him. There’s a tense few seconds of silence in the camaro as he crosses to the other side, and your cheek finds its way between your teeth. But once he gets in and starts the car up, the stereo blares to life with a mixtape you’re sure he’s made himself.

“Sorry,” He grunts, reaching for the dial, “We can talk.”

“It’s fine,” You shake your head, “I don’t mind music.”

Though he cranks the dial back up, it’s not all the way, and the music becomes background noise to the shuffling of papers in your lap.

“So,” You start, thumbing through notes and ideas, “Like I said before, clay is difficult to work with, and messy, plus we’d have to model it and let it dry, and I think leaving clay unattended in my house would result in a disaster. And if we just draw it instead, they’re simple shapes and there’s nothing too complicated to draw, whereas clay would be harder to sculpt. And-”

“Okay, okay! Let’s just draw it,” Billy chuckles again, checking his rear-view mirrors for oncoming cars as he peels out of the parking lot, “If you wanna draw it then we’ll draw it.”

“Oh. Okay.” You sit back with a huff, unsure whether to be indignant because you were cut off or grateful that you seemed to be getting along.

“If you don’t have your colored pencils with you I’m sure my stepsister has some,” He theorizes, “But maybe you should ask her. If I ask her I’ll get one jammed into my eye.”

You let out a breathy laugh, “She’s, uh- spirited, then?”

“Mean-spirited.” Billy drawls, turning a bit harder than he should down a residential street on the way to the middle school, “She sucks.”

You’re sure that Billy wouldn’t be going out of his way to pick her up from school if she sucked. Or at least, if she sucked all the time. You’re well aware siblings have their feuds, but when she runs up to the car with a skateboard in her hands, you know he’s bluffing. If he really disliked her, she could have skated home. Now you know he’s softer than he lets on, but you keep it to yourself, smiling awkwardly up at her when she pulls open your door without looking first.

“Backseat, dipshit,” Billy scoffs, “I’ve got company.”

Company. It sounds like a dirty word, at least, coming from Billy who’s company typically consisted of girls spread eagle over the hood. But you reach for your seatbelt, “I can sit in the back, if you want?”

“No.” He pushes your hand away from the buckle, nudging it into your lap, “She’s younger and she’s annoying. Backseat, dipshit.”

With a huff she slams the door, and you’re suddenly not sure that you’ll avoid a colored pencil to the eye, either. Billy’s peeling out of the parking lot before she’s even buckled her seatbelt, and she sends him a nasty glare through the rearview mirror, one that you’re sure has the power to burn a hole through his head.

“So, uh,” You turn slightly in your seat, meeting eyes with the disgruntled middle schooler, “What’s your name?”

“Maxine.” Billy drawls, at the same time she snaps, “Max,”.

“Max?” You echo cautiously, and she snaps out of her glare at Billy to size you up. She seems relieved, almost taken aback that you’d listened to her instead of her stepbrother. She nods, and her lips curl in something that you’ll take as a smile, even if it’s barely perceptible.

“I think I’ve seen you around,” You muse, “You go to the arcade, right?”

“Yeah,” She nods, “You... you wear the green converse, right?”

“That’s me,” You laugh, raising your leg and lifting the hem of your pants to showcase the olive green sneakers.

“You know what shoes they wear?” Billy sneers from the front, glancing back at her through the mirror. 

Her face flushes as she ducks it down to stare at her lap, and you’re quick to swat gently at his shoulder, “Be nice!”

He looks at the hand you’d used bewilderedly, and Max bites back an amused smirk.

You’re nervous for a moment, afraid you’d cracked some ancient rift between the two, but Billy just clenches his jaw, shooting her another glare through the mirror and turning down a side street into a residential neighborhood.

Though he’s entered new territory, he doesn’t slow down. He’s going fast enough to pummel any unfortunate child playing in the street, and your stomach twists uneasily as he only speeds up.

“Billy,” Your voice is cautious, anxious even, “Can you... slow down? There’s too many kids here, it’s making me nervous.”

“I won’t hit anyone,” He assures you, though it does little to calm you, “I know what I’m doing.”

“Maybe you- don’t!” You tense as a toddler veers too close to the street where he’s playing with a ball on his front lawn, your heart racing as he wobbles safely back towards his house, “Please, Billy?”

He doesn’t grace you with a response, and honestly, you think you’re lucky he doesn’t snap at you like he does Max, but he eases up on the gas, finally within the speed limit as he curves through neighborhoods in pursuit of his own.

He pulls into their driveway with ease, and it makes you question how often his parents are gone. Surely their cars would take precedence over his in terms of parking, and you worry about him and Max being left alone more often than not. You’re so caught up in pondering the stability of their home life that you run straight into Billy’s back as he wrestles with his keys, stumbling backwards and apologizing bashfully.

“Clumsy,” He labels you, but it sounds more like a nickname than it does an insult. A mere observation, not a crack.

Max is off to her room before you even step over the threshold, and ignores Billy’s shouts of, “Maxine, we need colored pencils!”

She slams her door in response, and his shoulders slump.

“Shitbird.” He mutters, and an involuntary laugh slips from your lips. He looks back at you with a sly grin, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over a chair.

“Inventive,” You bend down to unlace your shoes, but Billy waves you off, so you keep them on. “I’ve never heard that one before.”

“We’ve got a whole list of ‘em,” He boasts, and you admire the rare mention of the two of them as a duo instead of opponents, “I think her favorite is dickwad.”

“Oh, that’s even better,” You chuckle, “I’ll have to use that.”

“She usually pairs it with another insult,” He speaks as though he’s describing the plating process of a budding young chef, “Something like insufferable or shit-for-brains really gives it an extra kick.”

You fall into a comfortable silence while he points you to his room and while the rest of the house you can see seems lifeless and sterile, his room is definitely his. Posters on the walls, laundry on the floor, a discarded shirt, a belt, and- boxers, that you only notice as he kicks them into the depths of his closet. You try not to think about them as he tosses his bag on his bed, prompting you to do the same. You rifle through your papers again, watching as he arms himself with a single pencil.

“We should plan out what we’re drawing first,” You propose, hesitant to sit on his bed before he tells you that’s where you’re working. It feels too personal, you’d almost rather sit on the floor.”

“Okay,” He nods, taking the plunge and sitting on the bed with his back against the wall, “So we’re drawing…”

“Mitosis,” You freeze, glancing up at him apprehensively through your lashes, “Have you been paying attention in class?”

“I’ve been trying to dump enough ashes onto the flowers outside the window to kill them,” His head jerks upwards to look at you instead of your bag as he drawls sarcastically, and the earring in his left ear dangles, shining in the light streaming in from the windows. You heave a sigh with raised eyebrows, ducking your head to continue searching through your bag.

“Here’s a diagram,” You offer up a recent class handout, one that you’re sure he’d used to spit his gum out in, “This isn’t the order the steps are in, though. So we have to reorder them, then draw them all and write about them.”

“There’s only four,” He reasons, “That won’t take too long.”

You neglect to break the news to him that you’re a perfectionist. 

“You start with prophase,” You point to the corresponding picture, “And I’ll do metaphase. Then whoever finishes first can divide the last two.”

He nods once in acknowledgement, “I’ll get colored pencils from Max later. She won’t stab me if I offer her pizza first.”

You can’t blame him for his apprehension towards the redhead. She’s definitely fiery, but you have a sneaking suspicion she’s equally as sweet. You suppose siblings are always at each other’s throats, and Billy and Max are no exception. You get to work sketching out your diagram, and after it's formed, without a ruler to make straight lines, you attempt your own freehand ones. They’re supposed to be arrows, pointing to each part of the drawing to label them, but they come out lopsided and shaky. 

Billy glances up from his sketch when eraser shavings fly over it, peering concernedly at you as you nearly rub a hole through the paper with your eraser.

“Jesus,” He frowns, looking at the array of gray shavings on his comforter, “Are you trying to bury us?”

“Sorry!” You groan, sweeping the shavings away into your palm and dropping them into the trash can that he’s got by his nightstand, “I can’t get these lines straight.”

“Uh,” Billy straightens from where he’d been slouched against the wall, lost in his drawing, “I don’t think I have a ruler..”

“I figured,” You rub your eraser clean of pencil lead, “It’s fine, I can just-”

“Here,” He cuts you off, lunging for a record sleeve that he’s got propped on a milk crate by the foot of his bed, “You can trace it with this.”

You freeze with the sleek, stiff sleeve in your hands.

“Are you sure?” You glance cautiously at him, ghosting your fingers over the edges, “I don’t want to ruin it.”

“Don't, then.” He snorts, “Just trace the edge, you won’t get pencil on it.”

You carefully line the pencil up with the side of the sleeve, peering around his room once before tracing the line you need, “Do you have a record player?”

“Not anymore,” He shakes his head, his curls bouncing, “It got- uh, broken when we moved.”

You hum sympathetically, “That sucks. Maybe you can find a cheap one somewhere, like a yard sale, or something.”

“Yeah, maybe,” He glances up at you with a soft smile, but you don’t catch it, too immersed in your task. He takes the time to admire you curiously, his eyes tracing your features just like you do the arrow.

“There,” You breathe, handing the sleeve back to him once all of your lines have been drawn, “That’s perfect.”

“Mine’s done too,” He decides, tipping his folder so that you can see his final product, “That okay?”

“Looks good,” You nod, scanning the page for any possible mistakes, “That’s... A lot of detail. Wow.”

He chuckles, and you think it’s sheepishly, “Yeah. I draw fast, I guess.”

“I guess,” You parrot, “Okay, next?”

“Actually,” He slides the paper off of his lap, glancing at the clock on his wall, “It’s getting kind of late. If we want pizza delivery, we should call in now, that way it gets here before we get too hungry.”

“Oh!” You stiffen slightly, “Uh, I’m- I’m sorry, I don’t think I have money for pizza.”

“It’s fine,” He waves you off, “I got it. You’re probably the only reason I’m gonna pass this class anyways, I think I owe you more than two slices.”

“Bio’s hard,” You laugh lightly, “I think I’m doing worse in math, though.”

He groans, running a hand down his face, “Fucking math.”

“This unit is so confusing,” You gush, hearing the crunch of tires on gravel from somewhere outside, “I just can’t wrap my head around-”

“Quiet.” Billy demands, eyes wide.

“Uh- what?” You glance nervously at him. You’d started to let your guard down, to forget the rumors about Billy Hargrove, the basketball player with a whole lot of fire inside of him. You’d been comfortable on his bed, chatting about classes and drawing diagrams. But now, when he hears voices outside, he snaps.

“-parked in the damn driveway,” One grumbles, a man’s voice that makes Billy shoot out of his seat when it’s paired with heavy, thumping footsteps across the walkway.

Billy lunges for you, and you don’t have time to scream in shock before his hand, rough and large, slams itself over your mouth.

“Get in the closet,” He hisses, brow dipped in a ferocious frown, “Now!”

There’s no other way to describe how he moves you than manhandling. He grabs you tight by the arm with his free hand, dragging you up and off of the bed as you try fighting him on instinct. When you hear the front door open your brain catches up to you, and you rush to help his progress, not hinder it, so you stand from where you’d been limp in his arms and dart into the closet.

He’s barely able to slide the door shut on you before a series of knocks fall heavy on his door. They’re the type of knocks you’d only ever heard before in cop shows, the FBI banging on people’s doors ready to tackle them to the ground.

You’re petrified in the closet, squeezed between a series of shelves behind your back and the door pressed to your front. Your breathing is erratic, short, sharp intakes of breath warming your face as they hit the door in front of you and bounce right back.

“Yeah?” You hear Billy swing his door open, the hinges squeaking, “Oh, hi, dad.”

“Hi.” The same voice from before sounds, and it sends a shiver down your spine from how icy it is, “There’s a blue camaro parked in my spot. Any idea who’s that is?”

The question is sarcastic, of course, but your nose wrinkles at how unnecessary it is, not to mention condescending.”

“It’s-” Billy tries, but his dad cuts him off.

“It had better not be my son’s, whom I have told repeatedly not to park in the driveway. My driveway.”

“I’m sorry, dad.” Billy keeps his voice low, guilty, and you think it sounds earnest enough. Your breathing is calmer now, not normal but not panicked. Sure, it’ll be awkward listening to Billy get lectured by his dad, but you’d survive.

“The next time this happens,” Billy’s dad’s voice grows eerily venomous, “I will get your old baseball bat from our garage, and I will smash that car to bits, you understand? I don’t give a damn if you bought it, you’re parking it on my property and that means you’ll do it by my rules.”

“Yes, sir.” Billy recites, and your heart sinks at how impersonal their relationship seems. You’d had your concerns from the beginning, because everything about Billy’s home life seemed to indicate that it wasn’t the most conventional, but you pity the boy for his dad’s lack of human decency.

“Move it. And where’s Maxine?”

“She’s in her room,” Billy supplies readily, “She’s doing homework. And I was just about to order us pizza.”

You breathe easier knowing it’s over. That the danger has passed, that you’ll be out of the stuffy closet soon. But only silence ensues, there’s no acknowledgement from Billy’s dad. Not until-

“What?”

“There’s no spaghetti left,” Billy tries reasoning, “We finished it all last night. I just thought that pizza was-”

“Son,” Billy’s dad spits, “It is 6:30. That is well past our family’s dinnertime. And you haven’t fed your sister?”

“I was about to grab the phone, dad! To call the pizza place, and order so that they wouldn’t be later than seven. I know it’s later than we usually eat, I just thought that she’d tell me if she was getting hungry! And she hasn’t,” Billy huffs, “She’s been quiet since we got home from school.”

“You thought she’d tell you? Billy, it’s not her responsibility to run this household when we’re away, it’s yours. I’ve told you that time and time again. And she’s been quiet since you got her home from school? How do you know she’s even in her room? Do you? Have you checked on her?”

“No, dad,” Billy argues, “I haven’t checked on her. I’ve been doing my own homework, and you’re the one that left, so I don’t know why it’s my fault that-!”

You thought things were fine. Sure, it was an argument, but that’s all it was. Until it wasn’t. Until the door in front of you shakes, nearly snaps, as a colossal thud rattles its frame. You’re not sure how you managed to stay quiet, the door warping in its hinges and pressing tight against your front. You slam a hand over your mouth to muffle your newly-frantic breathing, eyes shut tight as tears bead in their corners.

“How dare you,” You hear that voice, the rough, hateful voice of Billy’s dad, only inches away from you. But he’s speaking to you, not away from you, and you come to the terrible realization that he’s slammed Billy into the closet door. You’d managed to keep up hope, imagining his stereo thrown across the room towards your location, but there’s no denying now that it’s Billy’s weight against your front, only a flimsy closet door between you.

“How dare you insinuate that this is my fault? How dare you tell me that I can’t leave my own home, and how dare you shirk your responsibilities to your sister. As if you’re not a grown man,” Billy’s dad spits, “You are more than capable of looking after a 13-year-old girl. You just choose not to, and I don’t know how else to get it through your head, Billy! This is your family, she is your sister, and when we are gone, you are her parent! She needs food, she needs attention, she needs care, she’s not a goldfish. Why don’t you care about her, Billy? Why do you keep acting like you are not a part of this family?”

There’s a moment of silence where Billy tries thinking of something to say. You use it to answer the question for yourself: because he isn’t. This isn’t a family, you realize, your chest still compressed by Billy’s weight, this is a broken home. The three of them, Billy’s dad, his stepmom, and his stepsister, they’re a family, but Billy isn’t. Not with the way they treat him, not with the things they expect of him. It’s no wonder he doesn’t like his family, because they really aren’t that.

It’s too late. Billy takes too long to answer (which you think is unfair with such a loaded question), and your stomach churns as you hear a sharp smack. You’re unfortunately certain that it hasn’t been Billy’s father on the receiving end, but your biology partner himself.

Thankfully, Billy’s dad doesn’t hear your gasp. Or maybe he does, but he thinks it’s Billy’s. Nevertheless, you know Billy hears it, and you hope that he takes some comfort in the fact that you’re still there, that you’re not selling him out and revealing yourself to get yourself out.

“You are her brother.” Billy’s dad breaks the silence, and you try matching your haggard breathing to Billy’s so that he doesn’t hear you, “You are responsible for her. And if you disobey me again, you will be punished. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.” Billy mumbles, and you hate how thick his voice sounds in his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Billy’s dad drawls, and you have the sudden urge to leap from the closet and punch him in the teeth, “I couldn’t hear you. What did you say?”

“Yes.” Billy repeats, voice strong this time, “Sir.”

“Move your fucking car.” Billy’s dad spits, leaving him with another shove to Billy’s shoulders that pushes you even further back into the shelves. Your back is going to ache tomorrow, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not while Billy stands petrified against his closet door.

The heavy footsteps recede, and there’s two pairs, a much lighter one there now, too. But Billy hasn’t moved, and you come to the sickening realization that Billy’s stepmom had been lingering in the doorway the entire time. Or just outside it. You must not have heard her light footfalls when they were so consumed by her husband’s earth-shaking ones. She had to have known what Billy’s dad was doing to him, why wouldn’t she stop him? Why wouldn’t she say anything?

You don’t have time to prepare for the closet door flying open, and for a split second, you’re afraid it’s Billy’s dad. But it’s not, it’s Billy, and he meets your eye for only a split second. It’s enough for him to notice the withheld tears in your eyes, and for you to notice his own. He gulps, swallowing a lump in his throat, and his eyes drop to the floor. There’s a glaring red mark on his cheek, one that looks like it stings.

“Climb out the window,” He mumbles, gruff and secretive, “Take your bag, it’s under my bed. Wait for me down the road, I’ll drive you home.”

You don’t have it in you to argue with him, not when he looks like he’s about to burst into tears. You creep past the open door carefully, even though the footsteps have receded, both pairs, down the hallway and into a different room. You don’t have a difficult time climbing out the window, and you shoulder your backpack after your feet are firmly on the ground. 

Billy shuts his window behind you, and you’re alone now, in the darkness.

The side of their house is somewhat overgrown, twigs and leaves snapping beneath your shoes as you trek off-property. You follow the path of the street until you’ve passed other houses, and don’t seem to be lingering near theirs. Then the roar of Billy’s car travels your way, and his headlights bathe your stiff form.

He’s gripping the wheel tightly as you open the door, and he doesn’t look at you as you get in. It’s awkward, tense, and you have to sit on your hands to stop yourself from fidgeting with them and setting him off.

The drive is quiet; he’s shut off his radio. He drives fast, and this time you don’t have the heart to stop him. You’re still worried, but you think you’ve figured out why he drives fast, and you’re not sure you blame him for it anymore. He’s controlling what he can, because he can’t control most things.

You’re only five minutes out from his place when you first speak up, clearing your throat experimentally beforehand, “Do you... wanna talk about it?”

You glance over at him subtly, watching his knuckles turn white on the wheel. 

“No.”

“Okay,” You breathe, and bite your tongue to stop from speaking for the rest of the ride.

He pulls into your driveway with a rough turn, and you’re sure he only knows which house is yours because he’d seen you getting the mail two weeks ago while he was cruising through your neighborhood. On a different occasion, you’d commend him for his memory, but it seems inappropriate now.

You unbuckle your seatbelt without prompting, careful not to annoy him. But you can’t stop yourself, before you shut the door you peer down at him. Of course, he doesn’t look at you.

“Billy,” You start, carefully, cautiously, “You don’t have to talk to me about it. Or- or anyone. But if you ever need a place to stay, a safe place for the night… you can come here.”

You think he’s going to yank the door shut himself and speed off. And you wouldn’t blame him, either. But to your surprise, his eyes shift, no longer on the road ahead but on you. He glances at you through the mirror, still too timid to meet your eyes unobscured, but his gaze shatters you. It’s broken itself, and inside of his pretty blue irises is a child screaming for help. Pain pools in his pupils and threatens to drip down his cheeks in tears you wish you could wipe away before they even start flowing. 

“I mean it,” You promise, “Anytime.”

He holds your gaze, lips parting to whisper shakily, “Thank you.”

You leave him with a soft smile, throwing your bag over your shoulder lightly. You shut the door and watch him leave, much slower and more controlled than when he’d peeled in. When he’s completely out of sight you turn with a sigh, trekking up your front steps and fumbling for your keys. It takes you a minute to get in the door because of how distracted you are, and in your frustration you slump against the wood, remembering the feeling of Billy’s closet door nearly choking you.

You’re shaken up, you can’t imagine how Billy feels. And there’s no telling how often his dad does this, after all, it barely took anything to set him off. You hope he’ll be okay for the night, and for his own safety you wish he’d stayed with you. You wish he’d parked his car on your driveway, without fear of anyone smashing it, and settled on your couch for the night. But he didn’t, and when you crawl into your bed that night, you hope he’s safe in his own.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)