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doitforbangchan · 8 months ago

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All Bark and No Bite 11

Masterlist /Series masterlist

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

Previous - Next

Series Warnings: Fem reader, Smut, verryyyy nsfw, chan x reader, OT8 x reader, A/B/O, m/m/f smut, possessive! SKZ, possessive! Reader, anxiety and depression, reader is a CRYBABY, fluff, angst, virgin!reader, cursing, violence, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, Sub reader x mostly dom SKZ, misogyny and sexism, Ateez are depicted as terrible people (sorry Atiny!)

Chapter warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (p in v), kissing, suggestive, crying, cursing, fingering, biting, hair pulling, dubcon?, subspace, HardDom!Chan, SoftDom!Felix, fluff, angst, anxiety, manipulation, unbalanced power dynamics, and probably more but idk let me know This one ain't as sweet as the last few

WC:6.8k

In a strange turn of events, it seems Chan woke up before you did this time. Not that you were complaining; especially when you awoke to him running his warm fingers over your mating mark absentmindedly, feeling the indented skin. Every little touch felt like electricity coursing through you, as if the zaps were bringing you back to life. Overall it was a very pleasant way to wake up.

His hand that wasn’t touching your neck had his phone and he was listening to music with one ear bud in his ear on a low volume. You let out a low ‘hm’ letting him know you were awake now.

“Good morning, my omega.” Chans voice was raspy from sleep. He must have only just woken up not long ago himself. He didn’t say anything else, just held you tighter.

Moments like this were Chan's favorite. Being able to wake up to you; his mate, his omega, the love of his life - there was nothing better. He hadn’t realized how lonely he had been before having you here. He never felt as complete as he did right in this moment.

“Can I listen with you?” You mumbled sleepily. You wanted to hear what your alpha listened to. Wordlessly he took his other earbud and slipped it into your own ear. ‘Give me love’ By Ed sheeran was playing through the bud, the sweet melodies flooding your senses.

‘Give a little time to me or burn this out

We'll play hide and seek to turn this around

All I want is the taste that your lips allow

My, my, my, my, oh give me love’

It had been so long since you had heard this song, you used to sing this all the time in your room when you were younger and waiting to fall hopelessly in love. It felt fitting that now you were here laying in bed with your soulmate, who you had fallen hopelessly in love with.

Chan began to sing along softly to the music playing, serenading you quietly.

‘Maybe I should let you go

You know I'll fight my corner

And that tonight I'll call ya

After my blood is drowning in alcohol

No I just wanna hold ya’

The alpha squeezed you a little tighter after he sang those words, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. Your heart fluttered at the action. The two of you laid there together for probably an hour, just enjoying each other's company while he sang each song that played.

Eventually though, you both had to get up as there was work to be done. For Chan anyways. You had to make breakfast and get ready to leave with Jisung and Felix. Chan had a lot to do today himself. He had been neglecting his actual job in his family business and if he was going to take another day off tomorrow to go camping then he definitely needed to make all his calls and emails today.

“Are you excited to do more shopping with the betas today?” the alpha asked as you were both getting out of bed.

“Yes. I am.” You seemed apprehensive.

“Buuuuut?” He pressed, knowing something was troubling you.

“I just.. Feel bad.. About spending more of your money. I didn’t do anything to deserve you guys spending all this money on me.” You were avoiding eye contact with him as you went to brush your teeth.

Chan stopped you before you could enter his bathroom, arm out to block you. “Baby.” you kept your head down not wanting to look at him, now that you had embarrassed yourself again. When you didn’t acknowledge him he let out a frustrated growl, “Omega, look at me now.” you had no choice but to look at him, he used a command on you.

You were lucky that was all he did, he had wanted to grip your hair and make you look at him forcefully. Chan had a problem when people didn’t listen to him, especially his omega. Some would say he thrives off of non-sexual dominance. They would be correct. The alpha was used to getting his way practically his whole life. He would forgive you now, you were still learning.

Instead of yanking your hair he settled for petting it softly. “I’m sorry my love, I didn’t intend to be mean to you.” At his gentle words and even gentler touch you forgot about the command being used on you, leaning into his hand. “You need to understand that my money is your money. In fact this whole packs money is yours to spend as you please. The other boys would agree with me. Ok?” He waited for your words of agreement and when they didn’t come he egged them on. “You wanna be good for us right? Good omegas listen to their alphas.”

You wanted to be good for him so badly, really it’s all you wanted. There was a glimpse of panic on your face at the prospect of upsetting your mate. “ I’ll be good! I promise!” You nodded rapidly.

He gave you his signature boyish grin, dimples on display, then leaned in and gave you a kiss, nipping your lip as he pulled back. “I know you will, Baby. You’re the best Omega I know.” You purred at his praise, finding it addicting. “We gotta get a move on, lots to do today if we’re going camping tomorrow.” He let you go into the bathroom to do your business and such.

You went to pick out an outfit for today, deciding to sport some jean shorts and a basic black tank top. After that you had a quick shower and did light makeup. Simple but you felt cute nonetheless.

When you both finally made your way down to the main floor you found Minho and Changbin sat at the kitchen island making a list of what you would need for camping tomorrow. More like Minho had roped Changbin into helping him because the beta was a planner and liked to have things ready.

“Finally! Hyung needs help deciding what to do for food tomorrow and Saturday morning. Any suggestions?” Changbin exclaimed as he saw Chan, giving the older alpha pleading eyes.

“Good morning to you too Changbin. Oh I slept great, thanks for asking.” Chan quipped sarcastically, and Changbin rolled his eyes with a groan of annoyance.

“Good morning, baby. How did you sleep?” The younger alpha asked you, trying to get on his Hyungs nerves. He cackled when it worked, Chan letting out a huff.

You giggled, “Morning, Binnie. I slept wonderfully. Thank you for asking.”

“Yeah yeah good morning whatever, can we get back to this now?” Minho was getting frustrated, “We literally only have right now to think about this.”

“Fine.” Changbin reached forward and grabbed you by the hips, laughing when you squealed, and setting you on his lap. “What do you think, baby? Any suggestions?”

You leaned back against Changbins chest, feeling the muscles behind you, head on his shoulder while you pondered. “Do you think we should do easy things? Like maybe bring a bunch of premade stuff like sandwiches and maybe breakfast burritos for the morning we can just wrap in foil and throw on the grill?”

“That sounds like a great idea, omega.” Chan replied, leaning on the counter opposite you.

“Yeah! To make it even easier we can place an order for them and pick them up from the diner in town before we leave tomorrow morning.” Changbin agreed, tickling your sides mercifully. He kissed the side of your head when you giggled at him, ignoring the throbbing in his pants caused by your squirming. “Smarty pants.”

Minho nodded in agreement, writing down how many of each he approximated you would all need. “Ok so twenty of each.”

“Twenty?! Why twenty of each, there are only nine of us!” You objected confused, looking at Minho as if he had grown a second head.

“Have you not seen how much these guys eat? Changbin himself could probably put away half of them if you’d let him.” He was looking back at you as if you were the crazy one.

“Hey!” Changbin protested but didn’t fight too hard, knowing Minho was right.

“Yeah Bin, you’ll probably end up eating both of yours and the rest of Felix’s like you always do.” Chan poked fun at the younger alpha.

“What are we talking about? I heard my name.” right on queue Felix walked into the room you were all in.

“We’re talking about the plans for tomorrow, trying to get things taken care of.” Minho sighed, standing from his seat. “Speaking of which, I need to make calls for these orders to be picked up in the morning and then get the other stuff together.” He seemed stressed as he walked away.

“Is he ok?” You asked, worried for the beta.

“Oh yeah he's fine, Min is a planner and likes to get things done in advance. He’s probably going to find Innie to make him help get all the camping stuff out of the garage.” Chan answered, taking an apple off the counter and taking a bite.

At the sight of his apple you remembered your task, “ Do you guys want breakfast?” You went to hop down from Changbins lap but he only held you tighter against him, refusing to let you go.

“Ji should be back any second with pasties and coffee. He wanted to surprise you baby. Annnnd now i’ve ruined it, fuck.” Felix cursed, looking remorseful at having spoiled the fun.

Chan clicked his tongue in mock disappointment, shaking his head. “Way to go, Felix.”

“Hey leave him alone, he's just a boy!” Changbin defended the beta playfully, you leaning into him and huffing in agreement.

“Did somebody say Jisung?!?” A loud voice came from the front door, almost an announcement of his presence. A moment later the boy in question came sauntering in, sunglasses still over his eyes and holding a tray of coffee and a bag of pastries.

“No.” Changbin laments, “Go away.”

“Fine I guess you don’t want the cherry tart I got especially for you, Binnie.” Jisung made a show of wafting the bag up to his nose, “Mmmmm all for me then. Here is yours, my baby. A sweet treat for an even sweeter girl.” He handed you a chocolate croissant and a coffee.

You felt your face heat up as you accepted the pastry. “Thank you Ji.” When Binnie was distracted making grabby hands at the bag that jisung had set down, you took the opportunity to slip off his lap.

“Anything for you.” He grabbed your hand and yanked you closer to him. “Anyways, let's get this show on the road!” with his coffee in one hand and you in the other he set off towards the door. Chan held out a credit card for Jisung who happily snatched it. “Make sure she gets something nice. Our girl seems to have a problem with spending my money.” He winked at you as you passed.

“Oh you know I have no problem spending daddy's money.” The beta cackled.

“Wait for me!” Felix called, scooping his own items and following you out.

“Bye baby!” Changbin yelled, crumbs flying out of his mouth.

“Have a good time, omega.”

“Bye Channie bye Binnie!” You called as you were going out the door.

To say Eun was happy to see you again was an understatement. The second you walked into her shop she had a tight grip on you, hugging the life outta you. The older woman was unable to hold back tears at the sight of the bite mark on your neck, wailing about how happy she was for you and Chan and that the alpha couldn’t be luckier to have landed such a fantastic omega. You had reassured her you were in fact the lucky one.

It took another half an hour of chatting with her before she finally brought you out some swimsuits to try on. You had picked out a few modest one pieces for yourself but her and the boys suggested (demanded) you try on their picks first, an array of bikinis. You had never worn a bikini before so trying them on and modeling them was making you nervous.

You had chosen a basic white one to start. You figured you would start plain and work up to getting more comfortable. You thought it was cute but knew it wouldn't be the one. Thus began you trying a few different ones until you found one you liked. It had been almost 20 minutes since you had gone into the dressing room and the beta boys were getting antsy waiting for you to come out.

“Everything alright in there, baby?” The deep honey tones of Felix's voice called out to you.

“Y-yeah.” you stuttered, debating whether or not to come out. “I’ve never- never worn a bikini before and I’m a little nervous.” you admitted.

“If you’re really not comfortable you can try something else, we won’t be mad or disappointed.” He reassured you.

You felt better at his words, taking a deep breath before pulling back the curtain and revealing yourself.

Both Jisung and Felix felt their eyes widen and hearts stop at the sight of you. You had decided on a little purple bikini with stars on it. It was so you. The swimsuit fits you like a glove and goes perfectly with your skin tone.

They both had been too busy admiring you to say anything and in turn their silence made you self conscious. “I knew this was a bad idea.” You mumbled, covering yourself with your arms and going to shuffle back into the fitting room.

“NO!” they yelled in unison looking at you in panic now. Felix tried to compose himself but Jisung did not, falling to the floor at your feet.

“I’m sorry baby! You look so, so good we couldn’t help but stare!” He pleaded, his heart thumping wildly.

Felix nodded in agreement, now more embarrassed than anything at his fellow betas' antics.

“ Please don’t turn away from us. We didn’t mean to make you feel any negativity. We love the suit. It fits you so well!”

“Really? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?” You asked skeptically, still covering yourself.

“Baby, my baby, omega, believe me when I say this, if you don’t get that swimsuit I will literally drop dead.” Jisung was so serious from his place on the floor, not one hint of deception on his face. “I simply cannot go on living any longer knowing I will never again get to see your beauty in this bikini - which was made for you by the way- and soon I'll die. In fact even hearing you say it was a bad idea almost killed me on the spot.”

“Oh don’t be so damn dramatic!” Eun called out walking up to the three of you. “But you do look fantastic in that one, Y/n. It would be a real crime if you didn’t get it.” She winked.

It seemed all three betas were rooting for this one so it seemed your fate was sealed.

“I-if you’re all sure…” You trailed off, letting your arms fall to your sides now.

“Never been more sure about anything, sweetheart.” Felix gave you his charming smile.

You hummed, “Fine. I’ll get this one.” There was a round of cheers then Eun went to ring you up, adding a few more pieces she thought would suit you.

Felixs’ big errand was buying blue hair dye. Apparently he used to have blue hair but it's been a while and he’s ready to feel like himself again. He was too precious. You wondered if Chan would be ok with you dying your hair, figuring it wouldn't hurt to ask. Jisung tried to convince you to get some purple dye anyway and not tell him but you were too chicken shit to do something like that.

“Do you wanna help me dye mine, baby? I would love your company.” Felix asked you, crinkling his eyes at you.

Pulling back up to the house you found Jeongin, Minho and Seungmin outside putting some large camping items in the back of a truck. By the looks of it they had already loaded a grill and a few tents. Minho sure didn’t waste time. “There you are, now you can help too.” He eyed the younger boys.

“Actually y/n and I have a few things to do.” Felix grabbed your hand as you got out of the car, his other hand holding your bags. “Sungie would love to help you tho, i'm sure.”

“What?! Traitor!” Jisung complained but was quick to change his tune when Min gave him the evil eye. “I mean, yay packing.”

“We all have to do our part. You included.” Jeongin snickered, handing the beta a bag to put in the car. “At least you didn’t have to make a store run like Hyun and Bin hyung.”

“This was your idea! You should be doing all the work!”

Felix pulled you along into the house, quickly to go undetected “come on before they rope us into helping.” he whispered.

Both of you went up the stairs into Felix's bathroom after you dropped your bags off in your room. Passing Chan's office you could faintly hear the alpha in there on the phone, probably talking with a client. The fact that he works so hard so his pack could have the life they live was astounding. Chan really was a great alpha.

Entering the bathroom Felix reached under the sink for plastic gloves for you to use, and set up the dye. You had helped your old best friend dye her hair a few times so the process was familiar to you. Thankfully his hair was already bleach blonde so you didn’t have to worry about trying to bleach it.

You loved spending time with Felix. Really you loved any one on one time with the boys but you and Felix hadn’t spent time like this since your first day. That felt like so long ago when in reality had only been over a week. They say time flies when you're spending it with your loved ones.

You were discussing what you wanted to plant in the greenhouse when you came back from camping. Cucumbers, pumpkins and peppers were at the top of your list, while Felix requested some carrots and spinach if you could find the room. In only a few hours you had finished dying his hair and had just helped him wash out the dye. He had chosen a beautiful blue for his hair. It seemed to compliment him perfectly. Now it seemed like he was representing who he truly was, with his hair being a clear sky and he himself was the sun.

“You’re all finished! It looks so good on you Lix!” You were enthused, pleased with the finished product.

“All thanks to you baby.” He pulled a blow dryer from under the sink and plugged it in. “Now I'm gonna dry it. Do you wanna help me style it?” Felix really just wanted to be around you more, he wanted to be selfish if only for a while.

“Sure Lixie.” you beamed, reaching for the dryer. You were sitting on the bathroom counter while Felix stood directly in front of you. You turned it on a low setting and grabbed a brush in your other hand, he leaned closer to you and came to stand between your legs.

You began to dry and style his hair, neither of you saying anything now but it not being uncomfortable. In fact it was pleasant. Being close with him reminded you of the kiss he shared with you last night. Not you nor he had brought up the kiss, and he also hadn’t kissed you since. ‘Maybe he regretted kissing me’ the thought weighed heavy on your mind.

Little did you know it was the exact opposite. The only thing on Felix's mind right now was kissing you. He was just worried you hadn’t liked it since you didn’t say anything about it, but you also weren’t acting any different. He was so close to you he could almost taste you, remembering the way your lips did even for that brief moment.

You finished with his hair and set down the tools on the countertop beside you. You were still facing him, afraid to break the silence or to move from your place in front of him. All you could do was focus on each other.

Slowly and timidly, Felix leaned closer to you. You could feel his breath on your face and his scent get even stronger, and Felix gingerly let his lips find yours. Your eyes closed on instinct as you pressed yours to his in return.

‘Finally’ your inner voice said.

When Felix felt you reciprocate his kiss he let out a small whimper, you wouldn’t have even heard it if you weren’t so close to him. His hands fell to your waist and he shuffled even closer to you when you parted your legs further to allow him to make the connection between you. Your own hands were on his shoulders.

The beta didn’t go any further and settled for what you were giving him. He wanted to go at your pace, afraid he would do something to scare you off. While you did enjoy his kiss it suddenly was not enough for you so you took the initiative to gently run your tongue along his lip. When he felt your tongue he whimpered again this time a little louder. His sounds were doing something to you and without thinking you rolled your hips against his.

When your pelvis made contact with his it’s like the damn broke for him and he let the niceties fall. Felix started to ravage your mouth now with his own tongue, his hands gripping you tighter and his own hips doing a roll. Your breath caught in your throat as a quiet moan escaped your lungs.

He held you like that for a while, you both basically dry humping on the counter and tasting each other's mouths. Eventually it was becoming too much for the beta, he knew he would cum in his pants soon and he did not want to do that in front of you. He pulled back from your lips , only a few inches apart.

“Do you want to go further with me, baby?” He prayed you said yes. You had him so worked up he didn’t think jerking off would suffice anymore.

“Please, Lixie. Wanna feel you.”

Fuck

That was all he needed to lift you from the counter onto your feet, then he grabbed the bottom of your tank top and pulled it off of you. He groaned at the sight of your lace bra. You made grabby hands at his own shirt and pulled it over his head.

Felix was so defined. He was so tiny the thought had never even crossed your mind that he could also be ripped. You didn’t have much time to stare before he was turning you around to face the mirror with his hands on your hips and lips on your neck as he locked eyes with you in the mirror. “Can I take you like this, Baby? Let me see all of you?” He let a hand creep up your back to the clasp on your bra, but not yet taking it off.

You nodded, and answered “Uh huh. Yes lixie.” You were so ready for him. Honestly you had been wet since before you styled his hair. You would be surprised if Felix somehow didn't notice the sickly sweet pheromones that were draining out of you.

Felix unclasped your bra with nimble fingers and let it fall away from you. “Oh my god you're so beautiful.” He groaned out when he saw your bare chest. That same hand came to the front of your body and found your right breast, his thumb coming up to rub over your nipple. Now it was your turn to moan out, leaning closer to his chest. “Put your hands on the counter in front of you, baby.”

You did so without complaint and put your palms flat on the surface. He fondled your chest for a few minutes, taking in all the little sighs and moans you would let out as he watched your expressions in the mirror, finding it addicting. When you pushed your ass back into his crotch he let out an almost silent growl, nipping into the skin on your neck that he had been kissing. Suddenly he released you and went to the waistband of your pants, yanking them down your legs with no warning taking your underwear with them.

Felix didn’t know what was overtaking him but he didn’t mind it. He was never this assertive when having sex but something about you made him want to take control. Whether it was your omega status or just your submissive nature in general he couldn’t be sure. Probably a combination of both. You certainly were not complaining, liking this sudden dominant side of the man.

The beta pulled down his own pants and underwear next, eager to have the constricting material off. There you both were, naked and breathing heavy in anticipation. Your eyes were locked in the mirror as Felix reached under both of you and his fingers found your bundle of nerves. You gasped when he touched the sensitive area, eyes closing only for a second. He could feel just how drenched you were for him.

It was at this point that Felix realized he did not have a condom in here.’ Are you fucking kidding me?’ he momentarily chastises himself. “Ummm baby?” you hummed in response, waiting in anticipation. “I sorta don’t have a condom…”

“Oh.” you froze. “Th-then we can, umm, maybe we should stop.”

“Do you want to stop?” He desperately did not want to, he literally didn’t know if he could at this point.

“N-no but Chan and the doctor said-”

“But I can pull out.” He eagerly proposed, he had never been a rule breaker but right now he really did not give a shit. Consequences be damned. “Come on omega, it’ll feel so good.”

“I don’t know, lix…” You trailed off, unsure. "Channie wouldn't like it.." You didn’t want to disobey but one look at his pleading face behind you and you gave in. “If you promise to pull out…”

“I promise,” he said immediately. You nodded hesitantly giving him the go ahead as you readied yourself against the counter once more. "God, you are so hot."

The beta placed a kiss to your neck before taking his member in his hand and lining up with your entrance. He hadn’t prepped you like he should have but honestly when you were both that desperate that was the farthest thing from his mind. He let the tip run through your slick that had accumulated to make it an easier entry. Felix slowly pushed into you from behind, the stretch of him leaving a slight burn and you lightly hissed at the intrusion.

Felix on the other hand was in heaven. He had never felt so incredible from one push but fuck you were so tight. “Fuck omega, your pussy is so tight, nnggg oh my god I don’t know how I'll be able to move, fuck baby.” Felix couldn’t shut up as he filled you. His words were helping you though, as he stopped moving to let you adjust while he mumbled.

Between his jumbled (what you assumed were) praising words he laid sloppy kisses to your bare shoulders, his saliva leaving wetness along your skin. You were absolutely reeling; between feeling him within you and his total personality flip that left you with whiplash, your brain was turning into a muddled mess. It got even worse when he started rutting into you from behind, his hips grinding harshly against your ass.

His chest pushed you further into the counter and with the new angle his cock hit something deep inside you. Your back arched as you moaned aloud, your head falling forward in your ecstasy.

“F-fuuckk baby, you are so good f’ me. So so good, oh my god.” his deep voice was getting raspier by the second. Felix reached his hand around, his small fingers finding your clit again and rubbing sloppy circles. His other hand went to your breast and massaged your sensitive skin. “Look at me, baby, please look at me.”

You mustered all your willpower to bring your head up as much as you could, looking through your wet lashes to his gaze in the mirror. He looked absolutely wrecked, his eyes glossed over as he drooled on you. At the sight of him, fucked out because of you, you felt your orgasm approaching and approaching fast. “F-felix ‘m gonna- gonna cum.”

“Please cum for me. I need you to cum for me.” He sped up his thrusts, humping into you desperately. He was close to. The pulsing of his dick within you sent you over the edge, and you came with a loud cry of his name.

The squeezing of your heat on his member was enough for him. The beta knew he wouldn’t be able to pull out in time but he still tried, cumming half inside and the rest on your ass. The second he came his urges took over completely and without a warning, his teeth embedded themselves in your shoulder blade. When his teeth made contact in your skin you moaned as another orgasm washed over you.

You both were panting hard, you with tears cascading down your cheeks and Felix with your blood on his lips. It took you a moment to catch both of your breaths, the severity of what had happened finally registering in both of your minds.

“Felix…”

“Yeah”

“You came in me.”

“Yeah”

“Do you think Chan will be mad?”

“Yep”

“Oh. Did you mean to bite me?”

“Um, n-no.” He stammered, “ It had been on my mind since a few days ago when Chan said we could.”

‘Chan had said that?’

“But I didn't really expect to.” He grabbed a towel and began to wipe up the dripping mess he made on your skin. “I guess now is a good time to tell you that I'm kinda in love with you.” he chuckled nervously.

You spun around at his confession, not really shocked. You were able to feel his emotions when he bit down on you. It wasn’t as intense as when Chan bit into you - given he is an alpha and he bit your mating gland - but you could still sense the betas to an extent. “Felix…” you let more salty tears trail down your face. “I…I kinda love you too.”

Now he was crying, unable to contain his emotions and he fell into your embrace. Both of you were just little crybabies. Maybe that is why you got on so well together. It was easy to be vulnerable with him.

It was easy with Felix. So you both just hugged, and whispered to each other there in the bathroom. Both dreading the storm that was your alpha.

Sometime later after you had both redressed and Felix cleaned the wound on your shoulder, you both exited the bathroom. You shared a final kiss before parting ways. Felix going down the stairs and you going into Chan's office. The guilt was going to eat you alive if you didn’t tell him (assuming he couldn’t smell it on you when you came in).

You heard more faint talking so you knocked and waited. You heard him thank whoever he was talking to and hang up. “Come on in, baby.” He called out to you. You opened his door slowly and saw him sitting at his desk. His nostrils flared when you entered his office.

Chan obviously knew what you were doing with Felix, but he didn’t know the dirty secret you were keeping. Upon your entry into his office you were emitting a scent you hadn’t produced in a few days; intense guilt.

“What’s wrong, omega?” He immediately questioned you, reaching his hands out for you. When he noticed your hesitancy to grab his hand he stood from his seat and rested his hands on your shoulders, bending to be eye level with you. “Did something happen? Did Felix do something to you?”

“No!” you answered quickly. “I mean, not really.”

“Then what's wrong? You can't keep secrets from me, I can smell it on you.”

You looked down to the floor shamefully before giving him an answer. “When Felix and I were..intimate, he sorta.. He didn’t wear anything… and he umm he kinda came in me a little bit..” Your heart was pounding out of your chest when you saw the hardened look in the alphas face, his eyes darkening at your admittance.

“Is that so?” He seemed eerily calm, if you knew anything about alphas it’s that they are prone to rage so the fact that he didn’t immediately lash out was kind of scary to you. Little did you know he was furious.

“I’m really sorry, Channie. I-i know i wasn’t supposed to but-”

“Go to our room.” He interrupted you, removing his hands from you.

“W-what?”

He let out a low growl, “Go. to. Our. room. Omega, now.”

You gave him a look of alarm at his menacing tone, but still scurried out of his office and to his room. You shut the door softly and then sat on the bed, awaiting your fate. You hadn’t seen Chan angry yet, you didn’t know what to expect. He didn’t strike you as the type to scream and throw things like your father had been, but to be fair you had only known him for just over a week.

After about ten minutes Chan walked through the door into the space you occupied. He still had that intimidating demeanor but he seemed to be keeping his cool. He skipped the formalities as he spoke to you though, “ Take off your clothes and get in the shower.”

You stood from your seated position and started to strip, gently placing your clothes down in the hamper before slowly making your way to the bathroom. The whole time he just watched you as if you were a prey animal, and he was the big bad wolf.

Once you turned on the water to his shower it only took a moment for it to get hot and you entered the shower. It was a spacious area, with sliding glass and a shower head that rained down from the ceiling. Any other time you would have found solace in the luxurious bathroom, but right now all you felt was anxious.

Chan didn’t say anything as he slipped into the shower with you a few moments later. In fact he hadn’t said anything at all as he helped you wash your hair, he only shushed you when you went to speak. It wasn’t until he grabbed a loofa and began rubbing down your body from behind with it that he spoke. “ This is a nice bite mark here on your shoulder. Did Felix do that to you?” You went to nod in response but that wasn’t what the alpha was looking for, and he used one hand to reach onto the base of your head and gripped your hair tightly, causing you to let out a squeak. “I asked you a question, omega, and I expect an answer.”

“Yes, yes Alpha he did.” You gasped out, falling quickly into an uncharted subspace. Your inner omega only wanted to please your alpha now. His actions and words were shocking to you, he wasn’t being the Chan you knew him to be. You had seen small glimpses here and there but never to this extent.

“Did he bite you while he was cumming inside of you?” His grip on your hair tightened in one hand while his other brought the loofa down between your legs.

“Yes alpha.” You tilted your head back trying to get some slack but it proved pointless.

“Do you remember the conversation we had with the doctor yesterday, omega?” He knew you did, or else you wouldn’t have come to him so guiltily.

“Yes I re-remember” You stuttered, your insides fluttering with both excitement and anxiety.

“What did he say to us about when having sex?” His lips were kissing your injured skin on your shoulder where your new bite mark resided.

“To-to use protection until my results come in and I can go on-on birth control.” your panting was getting stronger as you tried to forget about the pain on your scalp.

“Mm that is right, baby.” chans tongue dug into your injured skin, causing you to let out a quiet cry. “Ya know what the rule was and still deliberately did otherwise. What am I going to do with you?” It was a rhetorical question meant to tease you. You started to cry at his words.

“ m’ so sorry Alpha. Please don’t be angry. M’ sorry.” He leaned over to lick up the salty tears that were coming down steadily now.

“Oh baby, I know you're sorry. Alpha knows.” you perked up slightly but it all came crashing down when he said his next words, “But just because you're sorry doesn’t mean there are no consequences.”

He dropped the sponge to the ground and that hand grabbed both of your wrists holding them together behind your back and pushing you against the cold tile, your chest smushing against the wall. “Ahh Chan!”

“Spread your legs. Let me in there, omega.” you did as he said, and he wasted no time in rubbing the tip of his cock along your sensitive folds. “Funny enough, I had just talked to the doctor on the phone before you came into my office, stinking like guilt and cum.” The alpha pressed you harder against the tile. “And it turns out you wouldn’t even be able to get pregnant right now, those suppressants are running crazy all over your body and hormones.”

Without warning he pushed into your heat, your sore walls engulfing him completely. He was so big. Even though you had been prepped by Felix so recently, taking the alpha was a whole other ball game. The only time he had really fucked you was on your heat, where your body was ready to accommodate his length.

“R-really?” you asked in a moan, both in pleasure and pain.

“Uh huh. How lucky is that?” He started at a brutal pace, the skin of his pelvis slapping against your ass noisily. “Still doesn’t excuse your actions. The both of you have to make it up somehow.”

“Please, m’ sorry.” you pleaded between moans and squeaks. His cock always filled you so well.

“This bite mark he left you sure is deep. You know Felix would only bite someone he loves.” Your heart fluttered at his remark, and it seemed your pussy did too. “Fuck so tight. Did you know that, omega? Your pussy tightened on me so you must know. Felix loves you, and now I'm sure you love him too huh?”

“Yes alpha!” you cried louder as his wet heaving chest was pressed against your back.

“Maybe that should be your punishment. Yeah that's it, since both of you want to disobey me then that's the consequence.’ your eyes widened, having an inkling of what he would say next.

“You aren’t allowed to touch him, at all, until I say so. No kissing, no fucking, no so much as brushing fucking fingers with him until I've deemed it acceptable. Fuck maybe I won’t even let him speak to you from now on.”

“Alpha no!” You tried to protest but he only sped up his thrusts, making you only be able to moan and cry. Fuck he was fucking you so good. Better than anything you have ever felt. He had you so deep in space you could barely focus on anything than that thin line between pain and pleasure.

“Too fucking late. You stay the fuck away from him, do you hear me, omega? Damn, I'm gonna cum. He won’t so much as breathe in your direction until I say so.” The alpha let go of your hair and you sucked in a large breath at the release. He opted for gripping your hips roughly, his fingers surely to leave bruises.

Your arms were free now so with one hand you braced yourself against the cold surface, the other was reaching behind you to grab at your mate, craving even an ounce of comfort as you were nearing your high. You made contact with the skin on his waist and dug your fingers into him.

When you grabbed him the alpha let go and released inside of you with a loud growl, the copious amount overflowing against his length. His knot inflated within you, locking you into place with him. His growl set something inside of you aflame and without warning you came too, a loud wail leaving your lips and your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You wretch your head to the side bearing your neck for your alpha, giving him your complete submission. He almost took the opportunity to reclaim you, but knew you had enough biting for one day.

Chan stilled his hips, breathing heavy in your ears as he let you come down. He watched the cum fall down from where you were joined and be washed away with the water. After a moment when his knot had deflated, he slowly pulled out of you, kissing the back of your neck and whispering praises. He knew it would be a long night of aftercare.

A/n: True colors are starting to come out a lil more, not everything is all sunshine and rainbows

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

Also if any one wants to chat about the story or share predictions please send me an ask!!

Beta read by my wonderful bumble bee @ayejaii

©doitforbangchan

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cheesiedomino · 9 months ago

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RentABoyfriend.com ꙳ ੭ * ‧

synopsis: you’re tired of being single so you to take an unusual route in helping with that— but what happens when you start catching real romantic feelings for your rental boyfriend?

genre: seo changbin x fem!reader | fake relationship/dating au wc: 5.1k tags/warnings: fluff, v minor angst, mild cursing, (kinda) nerdy changbin, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol usage, just overall very cute story dw <33

[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]

“I have a date tomorrow guys.”

Everyone’s head instantly lifts up from their phones at this sudden announcement, collectively drawing their attention at you. You weren’t expecting all of them to gasp and swap such looks of genuine confusion. It’s starting to make you think maybe this situation was a lot more serious than you’ve bargained it out to be.

You couldn’t fathom it either honestly, the realization of you going out with someone probably won’t settle in until you’re physically on the date. Based on their initial responses though, you might regret everything you’re about to say, but it’s far too late to retract any of your statements now.

“No way.. with who??” Danielle is the first out of everyone to ask.

Taehyung chimes in as well, “Yeah, who’s the lucky person? They’ve gotta be something seriously special to be talking to you.”

Well, you suppose you could put it that way.

You already have a preconceived notion of what they’re going to think of this “idea”. Mentally preparing yourself to receive a flood of questions and critique from your close friends.

“Actually… I rented him. For the week.”

Now they’re all looking at you like you’ve officially lost it. The room got scarily quiet, no one wanted to be the first to speak. You should’ve anticipated on their reactions being like this, it isn’t everyday someone just openly admits to buying a partner online. Nowadays there’s a lucrative market for just about anything, when you stumbled upon an ad for this service called ‘RentABoyfriend.com’ you didn’t think much of it. You laughed the concept off at first, thinking how lonely people must be to buy someone else’s time.

But the ads kept popping up, they wouldn’t stop showing in almost every YouTube video you were watching— even one of your favorite YouTubers promoted them before! So one day you finally decided to check this website out, you wanted to see what the hype’s all about so you signed up just for shits and giggles. You weren’t expecting to actually be somewhat interested in trying this thing out, but after going through a couple different profiles and reading hundreds of positive reviews you were practically sold.

“You rented out a boyfriend..? Seriously ___? I mean, I’m not judging but you’re a gorgeous girl you can easily get a boyfriend without paying for someone’s companionship, I don’t see why you need to rent one.” Mark bluntly expressed his opinion, he was probably the most outspoken out of all of you guys.

Taehyung and Danielle both agreed in unison, it’s practically 3 against 1 at this point. You knew you should’ve waited to tell them but you weren’t anticipating on them being this judgmental about it. You were hoping for a little more support, as they’re all way more experienced than you in the dating scene and could lend some helpful advice about your first date, ever.

See, the thing is you’ve never tried dating before so you wouldn’t know the first thing about it or what to expect from your future partner. You’ve never had a boyfriend, let alone held hands or kissed someone of the opposite sex. Being in your twenties it’s kind of embarrassing to say you’ve never done those things, but you thought what better way to try it out than renting a full-on experience that can give you just that? Well minus the kissing part, but you can make it work.

You were skeptical of doing this whole ‘rent-a-boyfriend’ thing at first because you didn’t think there’d be anyone you’d find suitable enough. A big part of the reason that you’re still single is because you’re extremely picky, you want to date a guy who’s so perfect that he must’ve came straight out of an indie romance film. Your friends would tease you for having such unrealistic standards when it came to dating but you were the all-or-nothing type, you’ll be single with fifty cats before you settle for less. Renting a boyfriend is definitely an unconventional idea of easing into dating but you thought it might be worth a try anyway.

What’s the worse that could happen?

( 1 day earlier )

Hovering your cursor over the bold red text of the website, you read over the main rules before going on to select the person you want for your date.

‘The rules are simple:

You are allowed to see only ONE person at a time, if you want to switch boyfriends you’ll have to pay a $50 fee.

MUST be over 18 to rent a boyfriend, we have implemented an age verification system before the date as we do not tolerate anyone under this age to use our services.

NO kissing, or sexual intimacy allowed. If this is found out later on by our agency we will terminate your contract and ban you from using our services in the future.

Remember to have fun !! ^_^ Our services are great for people who are new to dating or have never been in a relationship. We provide the ~ultimate~ boyfriend experience to all our clients. Customer satisfaction is 100% guaranteed ! (NO REFUNDS)’

Well jeez… they seemed a bit strict but you can deal with those rules and restrictions for the most part.

After hours of skimming through hundreds of profiles, you have a hard time choosing which you like most. Did you want an artsy, shy kind of guy? The tattooed, bad boy aesthetic type? You really couldn’t pick one until you stumble upon a particular profile that catches your eye almost immediately.

SEO CHANGBIN | 168 CM | PART-TIME LIFEGUARD | 24 | *POPULAR ↝

5 Facts About Me: I’ve traveled to over 50+ different countries and counting (ask me which my favorites are), I can speak 4 languages (working on my fifth), love to sing and used to have a rap trio with my buddies from college, I can & will easily lift you up ;) also have a secret talent for cooking, there’s nothing I can’t do!

Why Choose Me? First of all, why not choose me? I’m the best candidate for whatever kind of date you need, something casual, social gatherings, weddings, you name it! I’m very social and can make most people laugh (unless they’re the literal Grinch reincarnated), I’m able to get along well with anyone and just love to have a good time. I hope we can get to know each other and make great memories in the future :)

Going through his pictures you couldn’t believe someone was capable of being this humanely attractive. Don’t even get started on those impeccable muscles either… He really had to sport them in every other one of his photos, wearing the tightest shirts to show the outline of his insanely sculpted frame. You might have just been mesmerized from his godlike visuals alone. They even had a Valentine’s Day deluxe package that comes with seven dates in total for half the price, which they specified was for a limited time only.

$600 later you’ve got a full week of dates lined up with the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in all your years of living. You should’ve definitely went shopping before considering all this because now you actually have a reason to get dolled up for someone.

You were so nervous about going on this date you almost cancelled last minute out of fear. Typing out several different elaborate paragraphs to Changbin on why you couldn’t make it. You didn’t have his real phone number, it was all through an app facilitated by the rental company that was included in the package. Even though you were feeling overwhelmed and practically shaking with anxiety about meeting up with a guy, you still forced yourself to go anyway. You didn’t just dish out all that money just to not show up and waste his time on top of all that.

Your rental boyfriend texted you the location to meet at, it was near a train station so you both could see each other out in a public open space. The outfit you wore was fairly simple, a black mini skirt with warm tights underneath and a cropped turtleneck sweater. You accessorized the look with some dainty jewelry, a thin scarf, and knee high boots to pull everything together. It wasn’t something you usually wore but you had certain clothes you saved for a special occasion like this.

Upon your arrival, you notice him standing near a vending machine and waves over at you with the biggest smile plastered on his face. You awkwardly wave back, giving a soft smile as you slowly walk up to him. He looks even better in person, you don’t even feel adequate enough to be in such a gorgeous man’s presence. No wonder he’s so popular on the site, he’s practically unreal.

“Hi, you must be ___. It’s so nice to finally meet you, might I add you look really beautiful today, I think you’re making my heart race just by looking at you. Happy Valentine’s Day!” Changbin introduces himself, buttering you up with some sweet compliments before handing you the most insane bouquet of roses you’ve ever seen.

You take the flowers and almost stumble backwards from how heavy they were, “Wow, thank you!” Changbin prevents you from falling, quickly coming up behind you to get your balance back.

“Careful honey, can’t have you injured on our first date!” He voices with concern, “I hope you love the idea I came up with, I’ve only been to this place once before but I’m sure it’s still as fun as I remember it, let’s go!” Eagerly grabbing your hand to begin the journey, he turns around again to examine your body language.

“You seem a little tense babe? Do you need a massage?” He asks in a concerned tone again, this is all really beginning to freak you out. You know this is what you signed up for but this was all starting to feel a bit too personal, all the nicknames and sweet talk he’s giving is just something you aren’t used to.

“Uh, no! It’s o-okay.” You shook your head, denying anything suspicious going on. Truth be told you were barely able to contain your composure right now.

Changbin keeps on insisting, “The massage is included in the package so you don’t have to worry about getting charged extra.”

“N-no it’s okay, really. I’m just nervous that’s all, sorry I just don’t meet up with guys…” you shyly admit, finding it hard to look him in the eye.

He nods in understanding, “No need to be nervous with me sweetheart. I’m here to make you feel as comfortable as possible.” The smile he flashes at you instantly makes you warm on the inside, he seems like a genuine, caring person. You think things might go well for you after all.

The rest of the night was full of only good vibes and laughter by the end of it all. Changbin took you to an adult arcade that had old video games like Pac-Man, Super Mario, and Space Invaders, the other side was a bar where people could sit, drink, and socialize. He bought all your drinks that night, let you use up most of his tokens and overall had the most fun you could’ve ever had with someone. He was so easygoing but also knew when to act super caring and would be all lovey dovey with you. He was gentle, nurturing, and could have conversations about anything. You loved that he’d randomly drop some interesting fact you never knew about, or talked about a certain niche topic that he’d go on multiple rants over. It didn’t feel like you were renting someone out to date you, it felt natural— like you’ve known him for longer than a couple hours. Changbin walked you home and held your hand the entire time, along with the flowers he provided a teddy bear and a heart shaped box of chocolates. If that didn’t scream boyfriend goals then you don’t know what does.

The next day you wake up to Changbin blowing your phone up this morning. You had over 26 messages from him, which was pretty excessive in your humble opinion. The first thing he said was good morning then he goes on to express how fun yesterday was and he can’t wait to do it again. He even sent a couple mirror selfies of him at the gym, ‘conceited much?’ You thought. But then again, if you were Seo Changbin you’d probably be full of yourself too.

For today’s date you wore a pretty red sundress that made your skin glow in the sunlight. It’ll definitely get him to compliment you even more— which you secretly love when he does. Changbin calls you before he heads out to the date, letting you know how excited he is to see you again. You couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot on the train as you made your way to the destination, thinking about what he’s planned for you two next. This time you’ll be meeting up at a park but you still have no clue what you’re doing.

Changbin texts you where exactly he is in the park, it was pretty huge so it took you a while to get to him. As you get closer you see him sitting on a large blanket by the lake, on top of it were a bunch of different foods and snacks scattered all around that came out of a huge picnic basket. You were speed walking at this point trying to get to him. His arms opened out for a hug and you lean right into him, what you didn’t expect was for him to suddenly stand up and lift you in his arms to swing around you like a doll.

“Put me down I’m scared of heights!” You squeal out in fear of being too high up in the air. Maybe you really should’ve taken the bio on his profile more seriously when he mentioned certain things.

Finally putting you down after minutes go by of you protesting, Changbin sits you back onto the blanket. He brought an assortment of breads, cheese, fruits, lemonade that he made himself and a couple seltzers. You’ve never seen anyone put such time and effort into a date before, even being here with him is like living in a daydream. He was definitely succeeding in making you feel comfortable, which is something you never thought was possible with men. He actually took his time getting to know you and didn’t sound arrogant whenever he talked about himself, Changbin was so different than other guys who’ve tried hitting on you in the past. He was actually respectful, intelligent, and could easily carry a conversation without long, awkward pauses.

He was literally everything you’re looking for in a guy. But you’ll be seeing him for this week only then it’s bye bye forever. That revelation makes you a little upset, but you try pushing those thoughts in the back of your mind. It’s irrelevant and unnecessary to think about. Yet you can’t help but wonder about certain things though, wanting to know more about his job and what it’s like on a daily basis for him.

“Can I ask you something? I need you to answer it honestly.” You say out of nowhere, hoping that didn’t come out as weird as you thought.

Changbin nods, “of course, shoot.”

“How many clients do you usually get?”

This question definitely catches him off guard, he’s never really been asked this before and he’s debating on if he should as it might be a breach of privacy.

“I don’t think I can answer that, sorry.” He responds in the nicest way possible, but deep down he wants to know why you’d want to know how many other people he sees a day.

You were going to push him a bit more to try and get an answer but you decide to let it go and just enjoy the rest of the picnic. You didn’t want to bring the mood down with your odd questions and/or end up making him feel so uncomfortable that he won’t want to see you anymore. It was definitely something you shouldn’t have asked but you were curious to know anyway. Overall besides that small incident, you had another wonderful time with Changbin and couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come any faster.

Changbin had a foolproof way of getting you to blush like a giddy high school teen whenever he texted you. He’d always refer to you as ‘pretty girl’ or ‘princess’ which gave you insane amount of butterflies. You loved how clingy he could get and would double text when you don’t reply fast enough, always needing constant attention from you which you never minded giving.

He texted you at around three in the afternoon, proposing his next plan for today’s date.

‘Let’s go out for drinks tonight, it’s all on me ;)’

You liked his message, replying that you’ll be there and put a series of hearts at the end. Speaking of hearts, yours is fluttering at high altitudes from the way you can’t stop thinking about your “boyfriend” Changbin. This has been better than anything you could’ve expected, you never want this week to come to an end. It’s only been three days but you’ve begun to grow feelings for him, they weren’t too strong just yet but they were most definitely there. You couldn’t let that halt you from having a good time tonight, you’ll have to accept it soon enough he’s not your actual boyfriend. He’s doing this because you paid him to, if it wasn’t for your money he wouldn’t be here right now.

‘This relationship is purely transactional’ you unfortunately keep reminding yourself of the reality you’re in. Psyching yourself out of this sudden somber mood that’s consuming you, distracting your pessimism by raiding your closet for some cute clothes to wear tonight’s date. After what seemed like hours of tearing your entire room apart, you decide to settle on this sparkly black mini tube dress, pairing it with a leather jacket and more platform shoes because you’re obsessed with feeling tall. Once it’s 7 PM you head out to the bar you’re seeing Changbin at, he was already waiting for you inside the place. Eyes instantly lighting up when he sees you coming towards him, just like he always does he motions for a hug, pulling you in tightly like he hasn’t seen you in years.

His hugs felt so cozy, like sitting in front of the fireplace on a crisp, snowy winter’s evening. You never wanted to escape the warmth of his arms, it was one of those forms of physical touch that felt so overly personal to you. The thought of him hugging someone the same way he hugs you slightly enrages something in your spirit but again, it isn’t your place to get genuinely upset over him doing his job. You’re not entitled to him exclusively, but you feel like if you keep this up feelings will only continue to develop. This wasn’t something you considered when going into this and now you feel like you’ve just made a huge mistake.

“You okay babe?” Changbin notices you acting a bit strange, choosing not to pursue it after telling him you’re fine. He knows something’s wrong but doesn’t want to mess up the flow of the date, instead he orders a drink for the both of you and switches on to a lighter subject. “Let’s go shopping tomorrow at that new centre that just opened last week. I need to buy some new AirPods, I accidentally lost one of them in a taxi..”

“Sure,” you nod at his suggestion, in desperate need of some new clothes anyway. “Sorry about your AirPods, that sucks!”

He takes a sip of his bubbly drink that’s now on the table, “Eh, it’s okay this is probably the fourth time this has happened so far.” This has pretty much become a regular occurrence for him by now.

As the date progresses, things continue getting better. You’re both laughing, engaging in much deeper conversation than ever before. You definitely had more than enough alcohol in your system by now, feeling congested and claustrophobic as more people came into the bar. Changbin takes note of your discomfort and asks if you want to get some fresh air outside, you wasted absolutely no time to agree.

While you two were outside continuing your chat about some wild conspiracy he read about online, Changbin’s attention was soon drawn to a different building nearby. Gazing up in confusion at his sudden outburst of excitement, you wonder where he could be leading you next.

“Noraebang!” He shouts loud enough anyone miles away could’ve heard that, he’s now grabbing your hand to frantically drag you along with him.

You were never one to carry a tune but Changbin was actually very good at karaoke and singing in general, he had such a lovely voice. You could seriously listen to him sing all night— which you basically did since you kept begging for an encore until it hit 4 am. That’s when you both decided to finally call it a night, you wanted to pay for the Uber since he’s paid for all the drinks and every other expenses for today. You felt bad because you were the one renting him to be your boyfriend yet he’s constantly shelling out money left and right. He still insisted on paying and ultimately won the whole debacle, making you swallow your pride and get into the Uber with him. Changbin’s definitely not just someone you’re going to forget about after this week is over. You dread the day this all comes to an end, wishing there was a way to relive these moments again and again.

“I’m a little under the weather today, sorry I can’t make it Binnie.” Your voice is hoarse from coughing and unbearable throat pain. You’ve already consumed half a bag of cough drops, throat lozenges, and random cold medicine you’ve found in your cabinets.

He sounds mildly disappointed, but springs back up with a new proposal, “I can come over and bring some soup if you’d like!”

You appreciate his gesture but still refuse, you know he’s only saying all this because he has to, not because he wants to. “N-no you don’t have to, I’m sure you can go see other clients today. One less person to worry about right?”

The call went silent for a minute, he wasn’t quite sure how to respond to such a deprecating comment.

“I don’t want to see other clients, I want to see you ___.” He sighs, unwilling to give up so easily, “I’ll be at your place soon, m’kay?” He hangs up before you could even respond or say no again.

You had no choice but to wait for Changbin to show up now. Before you got sick, the last two dates you went on were debatably the best so far. You had gone out shopping together, accidentally wearing almost the same kind of outfit. Changbin was wearing a white graphic tee with blue baggy jeans and you wore something practically identical. The two of you looked like a real, official couple and people would stare as you walked hand in hand, it really did seem like the perfect relationship on the outside.

You got even closer when he came over the following day, resulting in you two cuddling while watching movies and baking cookies. He’s expressed that he’s never been to another client’s home before but it wasn’t “technically” against any rules. The more you kept hanging out together, the harder it was coming to terms with the fact you’re actually falling for Changbin. He made every experience with you more exciting than the last, which he did exactly that night. When the cookies were done you fed a piece to him, making little airplane sounds as you do it, he eagerly takes a bite of the chewy treat and compliments both your efforts.

“These taste way better than I thought, oh my god they literally melt in your mouth. Try it!” He takes another cookie from the tray and feeds it to you this time.

There was something so overly domestic about that moment you couldn’t shake the feelings of wanting to kiss him right then and there. But you can’t. If you did such a thing you’d never be allowed to see him again, plus you don’t want to be known as that one creepy client who just couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. As you were cuddling on the couch though, things may have taken a turn for the better… or worse?

Changbin would “yawn” at the movie and subtly wrap his arm around you, he’d subconsciously pull you in closer and it didn’t make it any better that you were under the same blanket. You weren’t complaining at any of this though, you were pretty much in heaven. It took everything in you not to look up and stare, gluing your eyes to the movie that was displayed on the TV. But as the night progressed you were practically snuggling up with him like he was your real boyfriend. The way he’d run his fingers gently down your back, soothing you in a way that could lull you asleep. His touch was the most relaxing thing ever, you were so calm with him and loved how he brought a side of you that’s never been shown. After this encounter you can no longer deny the way you feel— you are officially falling deeply in love your rental boyfriend, Seo Changbin.

The sound of your doorbell ringing alarms you of a new visitor, who was none other than your “boyfriend” waiting patiently outside the door for you. You feel and look like death itself, coming downstairs to answer the door still in your PJ’s and hair a disheveled mess. Every five seconds was interrupted with you coughing your lungs out, barely able to speak above a whisper. Changbin looks thrilled as ever to see you, even when you clearly don’t look your best he’s still coming up to hug you tightly. His hugs are always blocking off your airways from the way his muscles squeeze you, it’s even worse when you’re sick— practically gasping for air.

“Sorry babyy, I just missed you so much. I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day and soon as you said you’re sick I dropped everything to go make you this soup. It’s a specialty I make whenever my friends are sick, the perfect remedy to cure my princess.” He goes into your kitchen to heat up the soup in your microwave, making you wait patiently on the couch as you’re wrapped up in multiple blankets.

Your body feels like it’s -2 degrees, you were freezing. The crazy thing is your thermostat was set to 80 degrees, it was definitely you that was the problem. He propped your feet up on the table, rested a tray in your lap and set the bowl of soup on top. Brushing a couple strands of hair out your face he looks at you intently, examining your symptoms as if he’s a doctor.

“It’ll be okay soon love, I’m here to nurse you back to health again. Can’t see my pretty baby sick like this, makes me all sad.” He pouts, giving you a soft head pat like you’re a delicate kitten.

He takes a spoonful of the hot soup, slightly blowing on it before telling you to open up so you can eat. You don’t know what’s gotten into you but you feel like he’s gone too far with all this. It’s not fair for you to continue on if it’s just become torture now. He’s practically dangling in your face that you’ll never have a partner as perfect as him in your life.

“I- I can’t do this anymore Changbin..” you say lowly, refusing to eat the soup he made.

“What do you mean? I’m just feeding you soup, it’s my duty as your boyfriend to-”

“This isn’t real… none of it is. I’m stupid for even doing this but I was lonely.. I’m sorry but I’d prefer something that isn’t temporary.” You cut him off to express your pent up frustrations, ready to be let down and rejected by him as gently as possible.

“Then let’s make it real,” he proposes without any hesitation, “honestly I stopped faking it around our third date, it was all me after that. I never said anything because well… this is my job and I’ve never fallen for a client before so this is still all very new to me..”

You’d be screaming right now if you weren’t sick, instead you’re internally freaking out at this confession, it feels like your hearts doing cartwheels and somersaults.

“Seriously?” Eyes widening as you look at him, suddenly your body heat rises and you know it’s not because of the soup or the layers of blankets that’s covering you.

He nods, “I thought it was kinda obvious when we kissed yesterday..”

Oh yeah… you forgot that did happen. You thought it was another fever dream you might’ve just made up in your head. You shared your first kiss with someone you deemed so special and important to you, someone you never would’ve guessed could come into your life and shift the entirety of your world like magic. There was no one else in existence you wanted more than Changbin.

“Doesn’t that mean you’ll have to quit your job? I don’t want to be the reason you stop making such good income.. I’ll feel so bad.” You knew deep down you didn’t feel that badly about him quitting to date you instead. It was just the thought of him leaving something he’s been doing for years behind all for some girl he’s known for simply a week.

He shrugs at your comment, “I’ll be just fine, I was planning on finding a new job soon anyway. It gets kinda old after a while, I felt like I was on autopilot most of the time. You were able to get me to open up and show my true self, I could never thank you enough for that ___.” Changbin couldn’t resist the urge to plant a kiss to your forehead.

After everything that’s been said and done. What you’ve come to understand is that love is learned, a development that takes time to grow and blossom into something extraordinary. Just like learning a new language or a musical instrument, we learn love from society and cultures we’re raised in, it’s a beautiful thing once we know how to cherish it. Your newfound romance with Changbin is something you’ll learn to cherish forever and ever.

[End <3].

#skz fluff #skz x reader #changbin fluff #seo changbin fluff #stray kids imagines #skz drabbles #changbin x reader #changbin skz #changbin x female reader #seo changbin x reader #stray kids fluff #changbin scenarios #changbin drabbles #changbin imagines #skz au #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids drabbles #skz imagines

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heyimkana · 1 year ago

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24 Hours with You (Satoru Ver.) - Ep. 1

Series Masterlist Chapter Summary: The first episode of a mini-series where you’ll live through the hours you spend together with your husband, Gojo Satoru. Pairings: Gojo Satoru x Female Reader Genre: Domestic AU, Fluff, Romance, Smut, Humor Word Count: 8K Warnings: whipped, clingy husband!Satoru, sassy!Y/N, shoujo manga inspired backstory, endless sex jokes, and overall cavity-inducing fluff with a little bit of smut at the end (no actual sex scenes...yet)

Episode 1: Morning

06.02 AM

Your very much-needed sleep abruptly comes to an end the moment your husband’s alarm—not yours—begins to ring, his phone vibrating on the nightstand next to his side. You try to ignore it. You really do. After all, he just let you go to sleep three hours ago.

Granted, yesterday was Valentine’s Day and there was no way someone as insatiable as Gojo Satoru was going to end it with just one or two rounds of normal sex, especially not after he went out of his way, spending hundreds of bucks to buy you a set of lingerie that he’d been dying to see. He made sure to dress you up (you’re his favorite doll after all), his grin plastered ever so cheekily on his face. He held his phone steady in one hand, recording the way you not-so-gracefully stepped outside the bathroom in your new lingerie, dying out of shame because—“What the hell did you buy me?!” Which he casually replied with, “A bunny suit. Now turn around and let me see your tail.” To be honest, that wasn’t even the worst part.

(The worst part was when he said, “Now is my little bunny hungry for some carrots? ‘Cause I got a real nice and big carrot for you right over he—” He didn’t get to finish his line. You punched him.)

The alarm continues to ring, playing a song that you grow to hate more and more each day. “Ugh, turn it off.”

Satoru doesn’t even stir in his sleep, which comes as no surprise. He’s still lying flat on his stomach, facing you with his cheek drowning in the comfort of his pillow. He looks peaceful. Innocent. Even when his parted lips are still somewhat smeared with the color of your lipstick. And he’s drooling—in an adorable way, of course.

“Satoru.” You nudge his shoulder. “Sa. To. Ru.”

No reaction. It’s like talking to a dead cow. You groan, your upper body pressing against his backside as you reach out to snatch his phone from the nightstand. With bleary eyes, you turn off his alarm before returning it to the table. You fall back to the side of your bed, flinching as your body still feels sore from last night.

A smile forms on your face. Finally, it’s quiet again.

You still have two more hours before you have to leave for work. I can still sleep for one hou—

The alarm starts again, playing the same damn song.

Of course. How could you forget? Satoru’s the type who sets his alarm every ten minutes just because he’ll totally ignore the first fifteen times. Are you really this tired to not remember this? Yeah, probably.

You pull your blanket over your head. Maybe you can just pay no attention to it like your husband.

Just ignore it, ignore it, ignore it.

Yeah, you can’t.

You toss away your blanket, frustrated. “Satoru, turn it off!”

Finally, the devil wakes up. He moans, his voice husky and heavy with sleep, sounding so effortlessly sexy but you’re just too irritated to acknowledge it that way. “What’s up with the loud noise..?” Sinking back into his pillow and tugging his bedcover up until it reaches his ear, he mumbles, “Honey, I’m still sleepy… Let’s fuck some other time…”

“Oh, we’ll fuck never if you don’t wake up and turn that damn thing off.”

“It’s your alarm.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes.”

“Toru, it’s literally Hatsune Miku playing.”

He giggles, still with his eyes closed. “I love Hatsune Miku.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.” You repeat your motions, basically throwing yourself over him so you can reach his nightstand. Satoru lets out a little oof under your weight, groaning. “Babe, what—” You turn a deaf ear to him, making sure to sink your elbow into his back because he deserves it. Once you get his phone in your hand, you switch it off—the phone, not the alarm. “There. Done.” You slap back his device to the table. “Now let’s go back to sleep.”

You’re about to jump back to your side when a pair of strong arms tangle themselves around your waist, pulling you down until you land face-first on his bare chest. “I don’t think so, pumpkin,” he simpers, nuzzling the tip of his nose against the crook of your neck. Suddenly, he’s as bright as daylight. “I can’t believe you’re being so aggressive this morning. Did we not do it enough last night?” He puckers his lips, baby-talking you when he says, “Is my little baby bunny still hungry for her carrot?”

“Satoru, I’ll say this as nicely as I can. Release me now or there will be blood.”

“How is that nice?” He pouts, jutting out his lower lip. He’s hitting thirty and he still thinks he’s adorable when he does that (he is, actually, but let’s not tell him that).

Now, boyfriend Satoru would have insisted on holding you close, but husband Satoru? Oh, husband Satoru has gone through some pain. He knows better not to test you. He releases you with a sigh, his eyes drooping like a sad puppy as he watches you crawl back to your spot. “You’re so mean.”

“You love me that way.”

The corners of his lips twitch up again. “That I do.”

Satoru turns around to his side, gazing at you with the bottom half of his face concealed by the blanket he shared with you. He doesn’t really tell this often, but he loves seeing you in the morning like this. That silky nightgown. Those kiss marks on your neck and shoulders. The way your hair is so messy from all the tugging and pulling he did last night. You’re his masterpiece.

“What?” You ask, unable to sleep with how he glues his eyes on you.

“Nothing,” he smiles to himself. “You’re so pretty.”

At this hour? “That’s bullshit.”

“It’s true!”

“Well, thank you for the praise, my dear husband, but complimenting me isn’t going to make me give you a blow job at six in the morning, so can you stop staring and let me sleep? I have work in two hours. One hour and a half now ‘cause you keep on yapping at me.”

To anyone else, you would sound vicious, but like you said so yourself, this is why he loves you. To Satoru, you look the prettiest when you’re annoyed, especially when you’re annoyed because of him. It makes him feel special in such a weird way. Having spent all his life being objectified by women—and men—for his looks, and treated with endless flattery because he came from a prestigious family, you, with your feisty attitude, appeared in his world like a breath of fresh air.

(Or maybe he’s just a masochist.)

With lips curving in joy, he pokes your cheek. “Babe, babe.”

“Go to sleep, damn it.”

“I will after you answer my question.”

“Just one?”

“Just one. Promise.”

“Fine. What?”

“Do you remember when we first met?”

You open your lids, staring flatly at the ceiling above you. This dumbass is really trying to play his nostalgia card at six in the morning. You take a glance at him from the corner of your eye. He has stars in his eyes. Great. You know he’s expecting a long answer but it’s too fucking early for this. “Yes.”

“You do?” He props himself up on his elbows, his voice a pitch higher. He’s basically sparkling, giddy with excitement. “What was it like for you? What did you think about me? Did you like me from the very first start? Did the world freeze when your eyes met mine? Hehe, I bet you had a massive crush on me~ I see you’re not saying anything so is it true? You totally did, didn’t you? Oh my God, baby, that’s so cute!”

You just lie there on the bed, half-dead, half-deaf, zero energy and he keeps prattling in your ear. “You’re really not gonna let me go back to sleep, huh?”

“Nope,” Satoru replies, making sure to smack his lips in case he wasn’t irritating enough. “Hey, hey, answer me, answer me.”

Somebody kill me, please. “Okay, fine, you wanna know the truth? I used to hate your guts.”

“Eeeeeeeeh?”

“Don’t eeeeeeh me.” You pinch his cheek, ruining his pretty pout. “We couldn’t stand each other during high school, remember?”

“I never hated you, though?” He’s sliding his arms under his pillow, hugging it close as he peers at you with a twinkle in his eyes. “I’ve always found you cute,” he confesses, followed by a girly squeal. Satoru buries his face in the pillow, his legs flapping against the bed. “Aaaaah~ Saying it out loud like that is so embarrassing~”

“I’m gonna punch you.”

“No, seriously. You’ve never heard me saying I hated you, have you? And you know me. I hold my grudges. If I hated you, I would’ve made your life a living hell. But I didn’t, right?” He takes your hand, his thumb gliding across your knuckles before he replaces it with his lips. “I made you the happiest woman in the world instead.”

“With your money.”

“With my love,” he corrects you, flicking your nose. “Do me a favor and try to remember the first time we met. Didn’t I show you enough how much I liked you?”

The first time we met?

Okay, a little flashback.The first time you met him, it felt like you were living the life of a shoujo manga protagonist. Remember all those corny stories you read back in middle school? When character A—a female lead who was so clumsy, it was a wonder she survived the whole trip to school—met character B—the handsome male lead who seemed aloof and mysterious but turned out to be nothing but a warmhearted kid with a traumatizing backstory—in front of the school’s gate where they exchanged long stares filled with yearning and affection even though they just met? It always happened in the spring, for some reason, at the beginning of a new term. There were cherry blossom petals fluttering in the background, the words thump thump and syalala~ scattered all over the page among her inner monologue that went something like, “What a handsome boy… He looks like Prince Charming… And he has such long eyelashes too… Oh no, what is this feeling? Calm down, my heart! At this rate, he’s going to hear it!” Remember those corny lines? Yeah, well, your story went down just about the same.

“What are you panicking about? Just climb up and jump.”

“I can’t climb—I’m wearing a skirt!”

“You’re worried that I’ll see your panties? Honey, please, I’m a gentleman. I won’t stare. Plus, polka-dot panties aren’t my thing.”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW I’M WEARING POLKA-DOT PANTIES?!”

Okay, maybe your story didn’t go exactly the same. But it’s true that you first met him in the spring, at the beginning of the school’s term. There were no cherry blossom trees swaying in the background because God hated you and He wasn’t that fond of adding pretty things into your life. Gojo Satoru was pretty, sure, but only until he started yapping. And knowing Satoru, he’s always yapping.

You had promised yourself earlier that day that you’d do better. Be better. No more running late to school, no more procrastinating on your homework, and maybe even try to socialize more with people (you shuddered at the thought). You didn’t wake up late that morning, and you went to school just on time but there was a car accident on your way there, forcing you to take a detour, so—

“I hate my life,” you grumbled to yourself, staring tiredly at your high school’s gate in your fresh uniform that was no longer as crisp and tidy as it was from all the running you did. The huge wrought iron gate was closed and locked. The students were already sitting in rows inside the hall, sleeping through your principal’s morning greeting. You had your bag slinging on one shoulder, your short, pleated skirt swaying as it was kissed by the wind. Your hair was sticking uncomfortably to your skin, glued by your sweat. So much for wanting to keep perfect attendance, you thought. This is the worst.

Little did you know that God in heaven was like, “Worst? Oh, honey, I’m just getting started.”

Because there he was, a devil sent from the deepest pit of hell. Your ‘Prince Charming’, walking out of a fancy black car and kicking the door closed without even thanking the poor driver. Gorgeous silver hair. Electric blue eyes. Piercing in his right ear and a bubblegum lollipop in his mouth.

Gojo Satoru.

He was a second-year student just like you but that was all you had in common. He was popular, so popular, and you didn’t have to think long to figure out why. He was a prodigy, excelling in both sports and academics, never failing to rank first in every exam, and it was so exasperating because he never seemed to pay attention to any of his classes. He was just born smart. And rich. Always carrying the new iPhone, never wearing the same outfit when he traveled outside. His Instagram was filled with photos of him taking trips to Greece and outer space (not true). His socks were made of rare breed silkworm’s saliva and his shirts were ironed by a dozen crying maidens (also not true). Apparently, his father was this big CEO who worked really closely with the government so you often heard his family name mentioned on TV. And, to top it all, he was handsome. Like unbelievably handsome. Even you had to admit that. Ridiculously tall, naughty smirk, pretty voice. He was the boy that Taylor Swift would make a whole album about.

Lucky bitch.

“I know,” Satoru said, noticing the way you were staring at him as he walked closer to your spot. He pulled the lollipop out of his mouth, gazing down at you (because, again, he was as tall as a tree) with one corner of his lips raised higher than the other. “I’m handsome.”

You weren’t exactly staring at him because he was handsome—okay, yeah, maybe you did. A little. “You’re late too?”

You had never interacted with him before and you were 99.9% sure he didn’t know your name, so maybe you should’ve started by introducing yourself to him. Or telling him not to be so cocky ‘cause who the hell started a conversation like that?

“Yep.” He plopped his lollipop back into his mouth, coloring his tongue blue. “But unlike you, I chose to be late. Needed my beauty sleep, you see, but you get that.” He stretched out both hands in the air, cracking his neck. A little strip of perfect fair skin was shown above his belt but you looked away, clearing your throat.

“So,” he yawned. “Are you going to climb first or should I?”

“What?”

“The gate, genius.”

“You want me to climb up the gate?”

“How else are you planning to go inside?”

“Well, true, but…” You looked around. Your usual school guard was nowhere in sight. Yes, the gate was quite high and you could hurt yourself making your way down but he could lend you a hand, right? It would be easy. You could stealthily slip yourself into the student’s hall after that. No one would notice. There would be no problem.

Well, aside from one thing.

“What are you panicking about? Just climb up and jump.”

“I can’t climb—I’m wearing a skirt.”

Satoru arched an eyebrow before he chuckled. “You’re worried that I’ll see your panties? Honey, please, I’m a gentleman. I won’t stare. Plus, polka-dot panties aren’t my thing.”

You blanched. “How do you know I’m wearing polka-dot panties?!”

“Oh, I got it right?” He rolled his lollipop to the side of his mouth for the sake of putting his annoying smile on display. “I must be a psychic or something. On top of my good-looking face? God really does have His favorite, huh?”

“Probably 'cause He feels sorry for giving you such a shitty personality.”

His jaw dropped. He knew he had a shitty personality but he thought girls loved that about him. “Well, aren’t you feisty,” he muttered, and you were worried for a split second that you might have upset him—not that you cared about his feelings specifically, you just didn’t want to jeopardize your connection with him (He was rich, okay? It would be great for your future career if you were friends with someone like him). But then, Satoru stuck his hands inside the pockets of his pants, leaning close with his lips pulled back in a cheeky grin. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Wanna go on a date?”

Oh, that did it. Those little chances of you having a crush on him? Gone. “Gross.”

“Ouch, okay, that actually hurts,” he pouted, rubbing the center of his chest where you just shoved him. After taking a moment to examine your face—you really did look like you wanted to kill him—Satoru gave up with a sigh, shrugging. “Well, whatever. I’m going in.” He pivoted on his heels, making his way toward the gate. “I’ll see you never, Polky.”

“Wait!”

He clicked on his tongue, turning around to say, “Yell louder, will ya? Our school’s guard is practically deaf but I’m sure people in China would love to hear what you have to say.”

“You’re annoyingly talkative.”

“Part of my charm,” he replied. “I feel bad for you for not seeing it, honestly. Now, what is it? First period’s about to start.”

You thought about it, your eyes flying back toward the double-door gate that was attached to the compound wall. It looked sturdy enough to maintain both of your weights. If you made the jump, you’d still have the chance of being the perfect student for the rest of the semester. But did you really want to ask for his help? He was definitely not going to let it go if that was the case. Oh, you knew he was going to be so annoying about it.

“Any day now, cupcake.”

Yeah, I’m not doing it. You weren’t the type who was so against swallowing your pride if the circumstances demanded you to, but if it involved him? You’d rather die. “You know what, it’s fine. I’ll just go home.”

“What?” He knitted his eyebrows, watching you spin around on your heels. You were truly a piece of work, huh? So stubborn to admit that you needed his help. Throwing back his head and groaning dramatically, he exclaimed, “Ugh, fine. Just give me your bag.”

“What—Hey!”

With nimble hands, Satoru managed to snatch it away before you could let the thought sink through. He carried it with one hand, not stopping under your command. You chased after him, and you were so close to getting it back before he flung your bag to the other side of the gate—and so carelessly, mind you.

You watched it land on the ground in horror. “Are you crazy?! I got my iPad in there!”

“Whoops,” he grinned, clearly didn’t feel sorry in the slightest. “Okay, your turn, Princess. Come on, I’ll give you a lift.”

Ugh, why is this happening to me? Left with no choice, you made your way to him. “Don’t call me that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He bent his body forward, exaggerating a bow. “I meant, it is now your turn, oh her Royal Highness of the Democratic Republic of Polkaland—”

You pushed him down by the shoulders. “Shut up and get down on your knees.”

“Oooh, so demanding~” he cooed, but his flirty tone vanished instantly the moment he felt your foot stepping on his shoulder. “Whoa, wait—dude, your shoes!”

Okay, that was your bad. Should’ve taken them off before you did that. Now his black blazer was painted with soil. “Sorry,” you winced. “I’ll help you clean later.”

“Yeah, yeah. You weigh like a ton, by the way.” Oh, you know what? He deserved it. Actually, he deserved more dirt. “Are you rubbing your soles on me?” He gasped.

“You wanted clean shoes, right?”

“Not by using me!”

You ignore him, curling your fingers around the iron bars. “I’m going up. Promise me you won’t look.”

Satoru sighed. “Like I said, I’m not interested in seeing your—aw, aw, aw, aw!” Tears emerged in his eyes. Not only were you stepping on him, you were also using his head to maintain your balance, gripping his strands a little too tightly when you felt that you were seconds away from slipping. “Fuck—Stop pulling on my hair!”

“I’m trying not to fall!” You regained your balance. Feeling a bit sorry, you placed both hands on the bars, gripping them firmly as you stood on his shoulders. You stretched out one arm, fingers clawing against the iron as you tried to reach the top. You got it. Now, all you needed to do was pull yourself up.

On the count of three. One… Two… Three… Pull!

Eh?

“What now?” Gojo asked, his patience wearing thin. His shoulders were throbbing in pain. You weren’t actually that heavy for him. It was the way you were stepping on him, treating him like mud that’s the issue.

You felt your cheeks growing hot, your voice reduced to whispers when you answered, “I can’t do it.”

“What?”

“I can’t pull myself up, okay?!” You yelled in shame. You had calculated everything except for the part where you barely had any muscles in your arms to carry your own weight. “I’m too weak!”

“And you couldn’t have thought about that before you used me as your doormat?!”

“See, this is why I told you I was going home!”

“But your bag is over there—”

“WHOSE FAULT DO YOU THINK THAT IS?!”

Oh, both of you were giving each other headaches for sure. “Okay, let’s try another plan,” Satoru said. “I’ll go first and I’ll pull you up.”

“Can you? You’re built like a twig and you said I weighed a ton.”

“It was a joke, Polky, lighten up. And excuse me, I have muscles, all right? You just can’t tell underneath all these clothes I’m wearing.”

“It was a joke, Twiggy, lighten up.”

“Oh, you little—”

“Enough, we don’t have much time.” You climbed down his shoulders, exhaling in relief once you were back on the ground. “Want me to give you a push?”

“As much as I would loveto use you as my doormat, I got this.” He brushed the dirt off his shoulder and tossed his lollipop to the nearest bin. “You just stand there and look pretty,” he winked. “And try not to fall in love with me too fast.”

Before you could land a kick to his shin, Satoru made his leap, making it look so easy that it almost convinced you to give it another go. He sat down on the top rail—thank God, this gate didn’t have any finials—with his legs settled on both sides to maintain his balance. He took a quick scan of his surroundings to make sure you were alone before he tossed his own bag to the ground. “Okay, I think we’re safe.”

Satoru returned his attention to you, and for a moment, you exchanged stares. “What?” You narrowed your eyes, suspicious. He just grinned, flashing his teeth and you knew he was up to something again. “No,” you mumbled out as realization dawned on you. “You’re going to leave me here?!”

“Abandoning my princess? Of course not.” His eyes glinted with mischief. “Say that you’ll go on a date with me and I’ll pull you up.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Am not.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“Well, this is your chance to get to know me,” he smirked. “Come on, just one date. I’ll take you somewhere fancy.”

“Not interested.”

His smile slowly began to fade the more you rejected him. “You’re seriously saying no?”

“Want to hear it in German? Nee.”

“That’s Dutch.”

“Whatever.”

Satoru took a moment to himself, both confused and baffled (and a bit amused, actually). But surely, no one would reject the Gojo Satoru, right? Yet, there you were, glaring at him as you said so. “Huh,” he poked his tongue against his cheek. You weren’t sure whether he found you vexing or even more… interesting. He accepted his defeat with a heavy exhale, just for now. “Fine. Call me Your Majesty then. If you do it cutely, maybe I’ll pull you up.”

“Oh my God, why are you suchan ass, Satoru?”

“Oh, the princess knows my name!” He claimed in delight, already forgetting the shame from your rejection. “It’s about time you tell me yours.”

“Yes, it’s Miss Fuck Off from Class B. Now, give me your hand and pull me up!”

“Say the magic word then.”

Oh, this isn’t worth it. This is so not worth it. “Fine,” you said, and to his surprise, you whirled around and walked away.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” His smirk faltered. “What about your bag, Sweetheart?”

You didn’t bother to look back. “I don’t care. I’ll get it tomorrow.”

“That’s stupid!”

“I’d feel stupider if I had to kiss your ass.”

“Would you prefer to kiss my lips instead?”

“Goodbye!”

You stomped away. For a couple of seconds, there was silence, and you thought, oh, I actually managed to shut him up. You mentally gave yourself a pat on the back. You might not have your bag with you. Or your wallet. Or your phone. And if you were really planning to go home like this then you’d have to walk for five blocks, but! At least you got to leave him speechless. That was quite an achievement, wasn’t it?

“If you come with me I’ll pay for your iPad!”

You’re back at the gate. “Would you be so kind as to lend me a hand, your majesty?”

Satoru laughed. A genuine laugh actually came out from the devil’s mouth. It almost felt strange. Somewhere deep down, you imagined that he’d have a creepy laugh, or maybe even maniacal. But no. His laugh was so, so adorable. So boyish. So…heartwarming. It was the kind of laughter that would make you smile even when you were clueless of what he was laughing about.

“You’re funny, I like you,” he said, sending tingles to your cheeks which turned you completely into the typical shoujo manga protagonist.

Eew, what the fuck, did my heart just skip a beat? Gross.

Congratulations. You just had your first shoujo manga-worthy inner monologue.

Satoru extended his hand. “You better hold tight, Princess.”

“If you let go, I’ll kill you.”

“I’ll keep you safe, I promise.” Another smile, and there it was again. Your heart doing things inside your chest. You tried to find some excuse, blaming all of this on his looks.

Satoru pulled you up, holding you securely yet so gently by the waist once you reached the top rail. He held you close, noticing how you were shaking a little bit when you felt the fence rattle underneath your weight. This is strong enough to hold us both, right? You couldn’t help but worry. When you were finally sure you were fine, you began to notice the pleasant, intoxicating smell lingering on the little space between you. His scent… It was wonderful—sumptuous and warm, and you figured, that described him perfectly as a person. A mix of cedar woods and cypress, with a bit of sweetness to it. It almost reminded you of—

“The Last Day of Summer.”

You blinked twice. “Huh?”

“My perfume,” he smirked. “The Last Day of Summer by Gucci. You like it?”

“What—no,” you scoffed. “I didn’t even notice it. You smell like sweat.”

“Is that so?” He was definitely not buying your bluff, but he played along, just for a moment. Satoru leaned in, his right hand moving from the dip of your waist to your wrist, his fingers covering yours. You could feel the tips of his strands tickling your cheek, your body freezing up the moment his breath grazed your neck. You found yourself holding your own, your eyes closing shut when he took a sniff at you.

Wait. Sniff?

Satoru pulled away, scrunching up his nose. “I think that’s you, Polky. Did you miss your shower this morning or what?”

“I will push you.”

“Aaw, but then who’ll help you get back down?” He tugged you toward him, his face hovering just a few inches above yours. He tapped his finger against your nose, matching the words he said, “Not. So. Smart. Are you, baby?”

“You—”

“HEY! YOU TWO!”

The thundering voice of a man caused you both to flinch. Your gym teacher—Yaga Masamichi—was there, probably glaring from behind his sunglasses and fuming in his sweaty track pants. “What are you doing?! It’s your first day and you’re sneaking out already?!”

“Interesting point,” Satoru answered, unbothered. “We’re actually planning to sneak in.”

“Teacher’s office. Now.” He didn’t have the patience—or maybe the time?—to stay and lecture you both. He walked away, grousing under his breath.

You let out a heavy sigh. It was only ten in the morning and you already felt so tired. Unlike you, Satoru was still brimming with energy. If anything, he seemed even cheerier than before. “Well, it sucks that we got caught but we had fun, right?”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Okay, Miss Grumpy.” He so casually ruffled your hair as if you had been friends for years. “I’ll go first.” He hopped off the fence, landing back on earth almost as gracefully as a cat. You wished you could follow his lead but from that height? You weren’t so confident. “It’s all right, Princess,” he said, noticing your worry. “I’ll be here to catch you.”

That was actually one of your concerns. Not because he didn’t seem like he’d be capable of doing so, but more of what would come after he caught you.

You’d be… in his arms, right? And then what?

Fuck, it’s just Satoru. You didn’t even care about him until now. Just jump.

So, you did. Without thinking too much about it, you removed your hands from the railing, but you didn’t jump toward him as you were too stubborn—and embarrassed—to do so. The chance of killing yourself over this was close to zero, right? You’d be fine.

You could feel your feet touching the ground. You were okay. Or at least, you thought you were. Your shoes, unfortunately, weren’t made to do such a reckless stunt. Your soles were too slippery, and like stepping on ice, you lost your footing, your eyes burned by the blazing sunlight as you felt gravity pull you down.

Until a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your waist.

“For God’s sake,” Satoru said, and you felt his words reverberating from his chest since you had your face pressed against it. He sighed, removing one hand from your hips to cup the back of your head. “You should’ve jumped towards me, you idiot.” You could feel his long fingers slipping between your locks, forgetting to breathe air into your lungs when he pulled away, gazing at you solemnly. “Look, it’s cute to be stubborn and not want to ask for my help, but what would you do if you got hurt?”

It’s corny to say this (actually, everything that had happened in the last fifteen minutes was corny. You weren’t sure why your life—and yourself—had turned into this state. You were doing okay before he showed up in your life.) but you were lost in his gaze. The sky above you was brilliant blue, so breathtaking as it was painted by God Himself, and yet… When you compared that to his eyes...

They’re so pretty… He has such long eyelashes too…

(You have got to stop reading shoujo manga. Seriously. Maybe head over to shounen. Blood, death, and eternal suffering—that would stop you from thinking about his lashes.)

Satoru was close. So, so close, that a butterfly awakened in your chest.And was it just your imagination or was he leaning even closer to you?

“Huh…” he mumbled out. Locking your eyes together, he gazed deep into yours, not romantically—though you were too consumed by his stare to tell the difference. It was more like… He was in awe.

You fidgeted. “W-what?”

“Your eye color changes a little under the sun,” he smiled, sweet and youthful. “Pretty.”

Mush. There was only mush in your head. And Satoru. “You—You’re too close! Get off me!”

He giggled, easily catching your hand before you could shove him away. “You’re blushing? So cute~”

“Why are you two still here?!” Yaga, the same teacher from before, returned with a volleyball in hand. Apparently, he left earlier to get his equipment. “Didn’t I tell you to go already?!”

“We’re going!” Satoru released you, clicking his tongue in annoyance—maybe a habit? “I swear to God, that man needs to get laid.”

“I heard that, Satoru!”

“I wanted you to hear that, Sensei!”

“Are you crazy?!” You slapped his chest. “That’s a teacher you’re talking to!”

“Relax, my grandpa owns this school. He can’t touch me.”

Why am I not surprised? Biting back your sigh, you took a step back, only to realize, great, I bruised my ankle.

He noticed, even when you were trying your best to hide it. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” you said, doing as best as you could to walk without limping. “Thanks for the help. I’ll see you never.”

He matched your steps. “Did you sprain your ankle?”

“Just a bruise.”

“We should visit the infirmary first, just in case.”

“We?”

“I can’t possibly let you go alone.” He sounded like you were asking a dumb question. “Half of this was my fault anyway.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you threw my bag—”

“Because I’m so handsome that you felt too shy to just jump into my arms,” he spoke over you. His lips curving. “Wouldn’t have injured yourself if you just did what I said. But don’t worry. I’m sure there will be another chance.”

I hope not, you shuddered.

“Seems like you’re in pain, Sweetheart.”

“I’m fine.”

“Want me to carry you?” He beamed at you. “Piggyback ride? I can do it bridal style too, if you want. It will be so cute, we can head toward the sunset together after school.”

“I’d rather die. And stop following me. I’m heading to the restroom.”

“Running away from me? Coward.”

“You want me to pee on you? ‘Cause I’ll do it.”

“Kinky, but maybe some other time.”

Thankfully though, he listened to you this time, returning back the privacy you’d been craving since the moment he opened his mouth. He watched you walk away, his lips slowly curving back up as a new sense of excitement and joy filled his chest. “Hey, Princess!” He shouted, making sure that you’d hear his next words even with the distance between you. “I’ll see you on Sunday!”

“For what?!”

“Our date!”

“Oh, fuck off!”

And that was it. That was how you met your husband. To sum up, he had no sense of delicacy, he talked too much, had no respect for your personal space, and the way he snickered every time he saw you? Ugh. Yes, he was pretty. Yes, he made your heart race. But you’re not that shallow of a woman to be with someone just because of their looks so nothing ever happened. Not right away, at least.

These childish banters and unfortunate meetings kept occurring during your years in high school. And as if that wasn’t enough, God reunited you once again in college. You thought you were cursed. He thought it was destiny. You still remember how you used to hold yourself back from ripping out his hair whenever he walked up to you, grinning from ear to ear while singing—not calling—out your name. But then you had this one class with him during your final year and your professor put you two on the same project together. You started getting to know him better, and you found out that Satoru had more sides to him, more complex than just a little brat who craved your attention. You got closer. You stopped rejecting his calls. You missed his cheeky grins when he wasn’t around. And when he kissed you when you were crying because your dog just died? It wasn’t that bad. It was comforting. It was warm. And sweet. It was wonderful.

(Yes, out of all the times he could’ve picked, he kissed you after you buried the precious family member who’d wiggled his tail for you for seven years)

And before you know it, he asked you to be his forever and you said yes. Immediately. Undoubtedly. Wholeheartedly.

“Earth to wifey~” Your husband Satoru pops his head back into your vision. The ceiling that you’ve been staring at for the last few minutes turns blurry behind him. You blink, placing your focus back on him. “You suddenly turned quiet. Is it really that hard to answer my question? Babe, if you tell me you forgot about our first meeting, I’m actually going to shed some real manly tears.”

You heaved out a sigh. “Actually, it’s the opposite. I remember it all too well.”

“Aaaw, baby~” He reaches over to kiss you, only to have you slap a palm over his face.

“Now that I think about it,” you say. “You were so annoying when we first met. And disrespectful.”

He blinks, sweating. “B-babe?”

“Not to mention narcissistic, selfish, impolite—”

“Wait, hold up—What’s going on?!”

“You called me Polky. You called me fat—”

“Wait, this is not the reaction I wanted—You’re supposed to fall deeper in love with me!”

“You threw my bag without permission. You never paid back for what you did to my iPad. You kissed me on my dog’s funeral—oh wow, you were a little piece of—”

“Okay, forget the past, forget the past! Remember that you love me!”

“I think you should go back to your side of the bed.”

“Babeeeeeeee, I’m sorryyyyyyyyy!” He whines, tackling you in a hug, and rubbing his face on your stomach. “You can have my credit card for today. Buy anything you want, okay? No limit.”

“Okay, deal.”

You shake his hand, and the deal is done. Mission accomplished.

“Why do I feel like I just got tricked?” Satoru pouts.

You gently pat his cheek, smiling. “Remember that you love me, honey.”

You can’t help but think that if cupids were real, your cupid must have worked overtime cause damn, what tough work it was to make you fall in love with his insufferable ass.

“Ah! You just thought I’m insufferable, didn’t you?” Satoru asks, squinting his eyes.

You plant a brief kiss on his lips. “I think about you that way every day, my love.”

“You are so in love with me,” he giggles, snuggling closer to you. “Baby, baby, I’m cold.” He circles his arms around your waist again, landing a cute kiss on your shoulder. You can tell he’s smiling like a child, hugging you like a child, and as much as you want to go back to sleep, you can never find the strength to push him away when he’s like this.

“Fine, we can cuddle. But keep your mouth shut. I’m going to sleep.”

“Okay~”

“I’m serious.”

He pretends to zip up his mouth.

“Okay, good. Stay like that.”

Satoru nods. He holds onto his promise. He keeps his mouth shut.

Can’t say the same about his other body parts though.

Because your husband is now grinding his hips against your behind, not too much, not too hard, just enough to make you notice that yup, he’s hard. His hands slip underneath your nightgown, skimming over your thighs before they press flat against your stomach. He’s so warm—he’s always warm—and every touch he paints on your skin is both comforting and provoking.

“Satoru,” you warn him.

He makes humming noises in response, basically telling you, “I’m keeping my mouth shut, just like you asked.” He’s bratty that way.

You sigh. You decide to let him be. It will take more energy to push him away anyway. Besides, even if he’s insatiable when it comes to sex, Satoru will never force you to do anything you don’t want to. You just have to ignore him.

Which is not an easy feat, unfortunately, because before long, his hands find their way to your breasts, cupping each one fully with his palms. He makes another noise, which you easily translate to “Good morning, girls~” (You know this because he said that almost every other morning). Giddy, Satoru finds himself giggling again, squeezing them from behind but in a way that is so not sexy. It’s like a kid trying out his new squeeze toy in Toys-R-Us.

You roll your eyes. “Really?”

“Mm-hmm.” He starts playing with your nipples this time. Again, in a totally not sexy way. He’s tweaking, pinching, poking your buds inside with his point fingers, and watching them pop back out again. He’s tittering near your ear and you should really find him annoying but you can’t help but giggle too. He’s so dumb for even finding this entertaining.

“You are unbelievable,” you say, turning your head around just enough to kiss him. You hope for dear God, you don’t smell like your usual morning breath, but seeing how he doesn’t smell like one and still tastes like the whipped cream he had eaten (off your body) three hours ago, you figure you’ll be okay.

You don’t plan to take this further than a playful kiss but when you feel your husband groan against your mouth, pleased by the way you close your lips around his so perfectly, you know you’re losing your battle, and you don’t care. Who cares if you only had three hours of sleep and eight hours of stressful work ahead of you? Satoru tastes so sweet on your tongue. He always does. And you’re addicted to him.

With a little push, you have him lying back on the bed. He has one hand resting on your nape, holding your head firmly as he kisses you deeper. “Satoru,” you sigh against his mouth, his tongue rubbing against yours before he moves down to pepper kisses down your neck. He stays mute, but only because you told him to before (though if you knew it would lead to this, you wouldn’t have said so). Your husband may have the habit of spouting out stupid jokes one after another in his wake, but he always says the right thing during sex. The things you want to hear. The things you love to hear.

You can feel him smiling against your ear, your body shivering at the sensation of his breath caressing your skin. You can’t help but expect him to whisper something, something that you know will make you curl your toes in excitement. Last night he had you begging to turn every filthy word he spoke into action. Today, he just takes your earlobe between his lips, his breathing steady but heavy. The sound of his lips parting… The little mmm when he sucks on the sensitive spot… You're losing your mind.

His touch no longer feels light on your skin, drawing out hushed moans from your lips when he kneads your breasts, his thumb gliding against your nipple from over your gown. A soft chuckle brushes your ear. He knows how much you want to hear his voice. It doesn’t feel right to you, feels like something’s missing. But he won’t do that. Not until you start pleading.

But two can play at this game.

You sit down on his lap, the strap of your nightgown sliding down your shoulder just enough to tease. The sight of the purple bruises he left on your cleavage the night before entices him. You’re so pretty. So pretty when you’re marked and bruised.

With both hands on his chest, you nibble on your lower lip, rubbing your against his hardness. “I need you inside me.”

“Fuck,” he groans, losing his battle. He starts whining when he sees you giggling. “Baby, that’s not fair. You never said that to me before.”

“Really?” You roll your hips, rubbing him at the right spot, the right pace. The way you move is obscene. The thin fabrics separating your body from his only add more excitement to your already burning skin. “And does Daddy like it?”

His face nearly explodes. “Oh my God, stop. You’re torturing me.” He sits up only to grab you by the waist before he throws you back to bed with one arm.

You find yourself laughing when he blows against your stomach, treating you like a child. “Stop, that tickles!”

“I asked you to call me Daddy in the last three years we’ve been married and you always kicked me in the face, and now you’re saying it just like that?”

“What, did you want it to be special? Should I go make you a bath filled with roses, put Hatsune Miku on speakers—”

“Oh, that’s it, come here!”

You’re laughing until you can’t breathe, your leg pulled and your arm pinned behind your back. He tickles your sides, his smile playful and bright, filled with mirth. This joy you both have, you’ve never shared it with anyone else. And maybe he feels that too. Because when he flips you around, pressing your bodies together, Satoru’s gaze turns soft. He leans close, gathering your face in his hand. There’s no laughter, no giggle, no mischief in his eyes, only honesty. His voice sounds deep yet gentle when he speaks, “I love you.”

No matter how often he’s said it in the past, how much he’s said it yesterday, it always feels like it’s the first time you hear the words. And it’s rare for you to say it back to him, but he doesn’t mind. He understands that you often struggle to portray your feelings with words, too shy to say it under his overwhelming gaze, and if you ask him, it’s one of the reasons why he cherishes you so dearly. Because he knows whenever those words do come out of your mouth, you truly mean them.

Like now.

Cupping the back of his hand, you press your cheek further against his palm. “I love you more,” you whisper. “Every part of you.” And there’s so much more you wish you could say, but will your words ever be enough to describe them all? It wasn’t obvious to his eyes before as you were good at masking your emotions with sarcastic remarks and mean retorts, but reminiscing those old days you shared with him… It really made you realize just how much you’re in love with the man you’ve shared the last seven years with. You’ve grown so attached that even the thought of spending some days alone without him scares you to your bones. And with the way he’s gazing at you right now, ocean eyes filled with the same amount of passion and affection as they were on the day he confessed his feelings to you for the first time, it’s only right for you to be overwhelmed by your emotions.

Sometimes it scares me because I never thought I’d feel this way about someone.

Even the simplest thought of losing you, of not having you wake up beside me in the morning, is enough to haunt me for days.

Stay with me. Don’t ever leave me.

I love you.

Satoru.

“I just… I love you so much…” And you hate that it’s all you could say.

But it’s enough. It’s more than enough. Because Satoru is blushing, his eyes turning round, his lips parted but no words can be found. He just looks at you, astonished by the vulnerability you display on your face. The honesty. The purity of each gesture. How beautiful you are…

“Satoru?”

He pulls you into his embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Hugging you so tightly, he barely gives you a chance to breathe and yet, you only wish for him to hold you tighter. You can’t tell just how much your words paint vibrant colors to his world—and bold red to his cheeks. “Are you planning to give me a heart attack?” He murmurs near your ear, a hint of shiver in his voice. “What the hell was that?”

You can’t help but chuckle. Embarrassed Satoru is the best kind of Satoru. “Sorry.”

“You kidding me? Say it again.” He returns the space between you, but only for an inch or two because that’s all he can bear. He strokes your face, his heart beating hard enough that you can almost feel it on your skin. “I think this is the cutest you’ve ever been.”

“I’m maxed out for today, though,” you say, wincing. “You’re gonna have to wait another ten years before I say that again.”

“I’ll wait forever if that’s what it takes,” he smiles, gliding his thumb across your cheekbone before he kisses you. “My sweet, sweet wife. I’m so happy I kissed you that day. Sorry your dog died, though.”

You chortle. “Honestly, you couldn’t have picked some other time?”

“You looked super cute when you cried, okay? Sue me.”

“You’re so ridiculous.” But you press his lips against his anyway, both of you smiling into the kiss.

“Babe.”

“Hmm?”

“Can I have your tits back in my mouth?”

“Sure, why not.”

“Can I… also bring my carrot back to my bunny’s mouth?”

“Aaaaand we’re done.” With a little shove to his chest, you send him back to the bed.

“Wha—” He sputters, mouth opening and closing like fish out of water. “Babe—”

“I’m gonna go make some coffee.”

“No, wait!” He shuffles quickly to his knees, holding onto your wrist. “Honey, I was kidding!”

“Moment’s gone, Toru.”

“But I’m still haaaard,” he cries, and whines, pleading at you with his pretty eyes. “Baby, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll behave so come back to me? Please?”

You already have one foot off the bed, tossing him a look over your shoulder. “You have hands.” Tying up your hair in a messy bun, you step down, smirking. “Use them.”

“Babeeeeee~”

You lean in to kiss him on the nose, patting his cheek when you say, “Take your time.”

As you walk away, you hear him mumble sadly behind you, “But your carrot…”

Yeah, your husband is insufferable.

And that’s why you love him.

***

Next Chapter

Shoutout to @justasketch and @princess-okkotsu for being my first readers and for not throwing up from the excessive amount of cringe in this fic. Love you, babes ❤️

#gojo fluff #gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru smut #satoru fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fics #gojou x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen #fics.24HourswithYou

1K notes · View notes

leovenuslatina · 4 months ago

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𝓓𝓞 𝓜𝓔 ୧ ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡ PT.3

♡

♡ THIS READING IS 18+ MDNI !!!!! ♡

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

this reading is about your FS fave position in the bedroom 😉

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

this is the last in the series 😩 thank you so so much for all your support and after this there will be an ASK GAME YAYYYY !!

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊this is just a reminder that tarot isn’t permanent or set in stone YOU decide how your life goes no one or nothing else now take a deep breath and choose the pile that calls to you ₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊˚⊹

tip your favorite tarot reader 💋

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pile one - the emperor & 7 of wands

☯️

pile one i think the two of you would be the type to change positions like every five seconds. like he doesn’t have just one position they may be super strong or maybe you’re just very petite and small he likes proving how strong he is by tossing you around. i think your FS will have lots of fun exploring different kinks and fetishes and want to try a whole lot of different fun things in your bedroom. Your FS is a very dominant person they may even like being called daddy and so i’m seeing they love being the top in the bedroom even if he’s not always actually on top. Your FS also really really like when you give him neck. He loves looking down on you and the praises that leave his mouth are just endless. Your FS will not hold back in the bedroom he’ll ravish you. overall your FS favorite position is anything that proves their strength by lifting you up and throwing you around.

☯️

extra messages- authority, masculine, rational, stable, stable, move forward, coping, courage, long term success, strong, overcoming obstacles

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pile two - king of swords & 6 of wands

⚔️

your FS favorite position in the bedroom is anyone that lets them see you on his eggplant 🍆 weather doggy or reverse cowgirl 🤠 he loves watching himself slip and slide out of you it’s addictive to him like the worst drug ever. like pile 1 your FS IS VERY dominant and like pinning you down ~with consent only of course~ Your FS is oh so happy to split you in half on him it’s his my favorite thing to do. He’s the type of man that gets pleasure from seeing the pleasure he gives you. because of him and his love for you. He’s also the type to teach you and guide you he’ll show you exactly how and what makes you feel good and comfortable. Another one is his favorite positions is him sitting down and you bouncing around in his lap he goes absolutely nuts for that. i think it’s just the act of being in full control or you (only in a sexy way) and your body being at his mercy for him.

⚔️

extra messages- mature man. assertive, authoritarian, leadership, legal, completion, good news, success, winning, motivatio

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pile three - 8 of wands & The Hierophant

🗼

Pile 3 your FS favorite position is anything where they’re on top of you maybe even caging your body underneath them. They like folding your body like some fucking laundry he’s obsessed with giving the most beautiful experience he can manage. Your FS is also into very intense and fast paced love making sessions he’s in there like a damn jack hammer with exceptional stamina. Speaking of stamina they’re also the type to love going all night long over and over again so definitely get used to that lol. It’s important to your Fs to hear you: your moans your whimpers and groans.

🗼

extra messages~fast action, flight, motion, end of delay, approval, conformity, good advice, consent, marriage/union

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redstarwriting · 1 year ago

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the clash | i. hey, ho! let’s go!

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 1.1k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie

a/n: it’s here 😎 no but fr, i proudly present a new series focusing on hobie brown, loml. i‘m trying to make it gn, so if you spot anything that needs fixing lemme know. i also did include a bit of a description of what you look like, but it’s mainly just to affirm the gothic spider-person look. and if you don’t like it, you can just pretend it isn’t there, my character designer brain just took a hold while explaining lol. enjoy y’all, there’s more where this came from 👀

now reading: i. hey, ho! let’s go!

next chapter: ii. time bomb

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In theory, the two of you should have been great friends. Best friends, even. He’s called Spider-Punk, and you’re called Spider-Goth, this alone made Miguel assume the two of you would get along better than all of the Peters. Unfortunately for Miguel, he was dead wrong. It was fine at first, a good introduction. “Spider-Punk, meet Spider-Goth,” Miguel says, motioning to the two of you. You simultaneously turn your heads towards him, “Don’t call me that.” You look at each other, seemingly sizing each other up after speaking the same words at the same time. In reality, the two of you were checking each other out, but no one needs to know that. “Fine. Hobie, meet (Y/n). (Y/n), meet Hobie,” Miguel says as Peter B. Parker hops next to him, excited to see the two of you interact. Your gaze first fell on his many piercings, which suited him very well. Almost as well as the spikes coming out of the shoulders of his tattered denim vest. “See somethin’ you like?” you hear his thick cockney accent, and you shrug. “The constant changing makes it difficult,” you say, causing him to shrug. “I hate consistency,” he says, staring you up and down. “I like the guitar,” you say, and he nods. “Everyone does.” You raise an eyebrow, and he takes in the way your heavy black eyeliner makes the expression look more exaggerated than it is. His eyes go down, taking in your outfit, which seems to be varying in different gothic styles, but overall is all black with silver studs, spikes, and charms sticking out everywhere. He notices the two of you share a liking for combat boots, and perhaps his favorite thing about you are the intricate and all black spider-web tattoos on your hands crawling their way up your arms. Hobie clicks his tongue. “Goth, eh?”

“Yeah. Is that a problem with you or something?”

“Feisty for a goth.”

“Instigative as all punks are.”

“What… is going on,’ Peter whispers to Miguel who shakes his head. “I thought they would be best friends?” Peter suggests as he places a binky in Mayday’s mouth. “I did too…” Miguel says, “Maybe this is just a way these types of alternative people talk?”

“Tal vez tengas razón… Hobie does love to be abrasive for no reason,” Miguel concludes, and Peter shrugs and they zone in on the two of you again. “...I don’t suppose there’s no reason we shouldn’t get along,” Hobie suggests, raising an eyebrow at you. “I agree. We probably think similar things… for the most part.”

“For the most part, huh?”

“Just that we have similar ideas, but most likely not the same,” you respond, and he crosses his arms, his guitar moving loosely behind his back. “Opinions on anarchy. Go.”

“It’s the ideal society—”

“Good start—”

“But completely unrealistic.”

“Excuse me?” Hobie looks at you with a glowering expression. “Humans are inherently assholes. Selfish, shitty, assholes. As amazing as it would be to have anarchy running rampant,” you shrug, “It’s unlikely it will ever happen.”

“You can’t actually believe that,” Hobie says, exasperated, “I mean you actually think that we can’t achieve it? You get enough people angry, and they rebel, they push for anarchy. I’ve seen it happen; I’ve led a rebellion.” You roll your eyes. “And do you live in a perfect anarchical society now?”

“Not yet, but we’re gettin’ there,” he clenches his teeth, and you sigh. “I admire your blatant idiocy disguised as an ambitious dream,” you say, and he huffs. “Would you just talk like a normal fuckin’ person and stop usin’ these dumbass words and shitty poetic language?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, or are you as deaf as your ideologies?” This time you scoff. “I don’t have the time to be berated by someone who lives in their own delusions to try and feel the slightest bit less angry at the world for giving him the shitty cards he was dealt.”

“And I don’t have time to listen to the rubbish ramblings of a miserable twat who digs desperately into their black hole of a heart to try and feel somethin’ when the truth is they don’t even know what they stand for,” he fires back. You glare at him. He glares at you. As if on cue you both flip each other off before you web away. Peter’s voice cuts through the silence.

“Well, that went horribly!”

Miguel punches him on the shoulder, resulting in a soft ‘ow’ and a tiny angry noise from Mayday. “What the hell was that Hobart?” Miguel nearly yells and Hobie snaps his head towards him. “Don’t call me that, neither! They don’t get it. It’s not enough to want to make a difference in the world. You need to take action. Goths love to sit on the sidelines and lament instead of playing the offensive,” Hobie explains, a deep frown on his face, “Watch out for them. They might not be able to do what it takes when it counts.” Miguel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Hobie, you’re supposed to show them around—”

“No, fuck that. I’m not goin’ anywhere near that gothic monstrosity,” Hobie says shaking his head in defiance. “We made a deal. You would show all the younger spider—”

“Yeah, well you can shove that deal up your fuckin’ ass, mate, I’m not doin’ shit for them!”

“Okay, okay, calm down there, man. Why don’t you just ask Gwen to help you? Maybe Miles and Pavitr too? That way you fulfill your promise, 'cause I know promises are important to you, and you won’t have to talk to them!” Peter reasons and Hobie looks over at him. He furrows his eyebrows. That would help the situation. And maybe he’d be able to help you see just how garbage your take was with Gwen on his side. “Fine. But I’m not doin’ it cause I need help, and I’m not doin’ it because you told me to. I’m doin’ it cause it’s the last thing that they’d want,” Hobie says, pointing at Peter while saying it, flipping Miguel off, and then webbing away. Peter looks at Miguel who is clenching his fists… and his jaw. “You seem stressed, but don’t worry about it. Not all of us need to like each other, I mean there’s so many there’s no possible way we all could and look at you, you hate Miles even though he’s awesome and—”

“Shut. Up. Peter,” Miguel growls, stalking away while mumbling various things in Spanish. Peter looks down at Mayday. “Tough crowd,” he says as she giggles up at him.

───────────────────────────────

『 tag list 』

@casmosmoon* @khaleesihavilliard @sparklyphantom @weyrrii*

*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #hobie brown #spiderpunk #spider-punk #spiderverse #theclashofthespiderverse

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cup-o-stars · 3 months ago

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Do you have any favourite sanji fits :? His fashion sense kind of fascinates me bc it ranges from absolutely great, no complaints, this guy's got the vision- to suddenly smth like his first outfit in film red (which has grown on me for all the wrong reasons I'm not giving him any credit here except for maybe the wavy hair 😔)

I do!

Pre-timeskip, I really like Sanji with vertical stripes. His Water 7 design is probably my all time favorite because of the vest, but Alabasta is a classic. I dig the glasses that seemed to come back in the 2005 Secret Island movie, and in general, it's fun when he wears black suits for coloring.

Post-timeskip, my favorites are still orange, lol. Skypiea used to be up there, but Egghead blows it out of the water completely tbh. It's competing with Zou for my second favorite Sanji design in the series, but Zou loses points because it looks hella uncomfortable on Zunisha. Still, I wish more people talked about it because of the jacket + glasses! But maybe I have bad tastes, lol.

Lastly, I'm not the biggest fan of ruffles or capes, but here's a shitty drawing of Sanji on WCI. When I was younger I didn't mind the bracelets because the gold looked cool, which probably tells you something about my reading comprehension.

Overall, I hope he wears more blue in the future, and I like when he dresses in patterns. Though I'm not going to draw outfits I don't like, I enjoy that his range isn't limited to his emotions, lol.

This was fun! I'd love to do Zoro, Robin or Nami sometime, because I really like their outfits too. Thank you for a fun question!

#one piece #fanart #drawing #sanji #water 7 #alabasta #zou #egghead #ask

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simpcityy · 1 year ago

Text

I'm Not Her Pt.2 (Father Miguel O’Hara x Teen! Daughter Reader)

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is your biological father but it’s not great being his daughter when he’s hooked in the past still.

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any of its characters. This short One-Shot has made it into a series! Read part one please to understand the prompt better. (Linked Below)

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Use of female pronouns, Use of (Y/N), angst, Father Miguel, overall, it’s just sad for now. Other dimensional Miguel… Uhhh I think that is all for now.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up to the smell of bacon being cooked. Odd? Who is cooking if no one is home. Sitting up from your bed, you glanced at the time seeing it was 10am. Walking out of the room the smell of bacon got stronger. In front of you was your father Miguel cooking breakfast. You quickly rubbed your eyes wanting to make sure you aren’t dreaming. “Buenos días, cariño*” Miguel glances back at you hearing the creek of the floorboards. You only stood there in shock. He’s home for once and calling you with love and affection. “I…Um…good morning?” You finally replied back sitting down on the chair slowly. He placed a plate in front of you and took a seat across from you. “(Y.N) …Escucha, sé que no soy el mejor padre*.” He began. “I know I left you all on your own, but I have to man up and fix my mistakes.” He looks at you before slowly holding your hand “and I know it won’t be easy, but I’ll try my best.” He smiles before slowly releasing your hand. You only stood there stunned thinking about it. Did Lyla talk to him? Did Peter? So many thoughts were running around your head before letting out a sigh. “I …what made you have a change of heart…you know that yesterday was my- “he cuts you off, “I know it was your birthday and I’m sorry” he pulls out a box from under the table. You were so shocked about this new side of your dad that you didn’t even see the box when you sat down. “Happy Late Birthday “he smiles, sliding the box towards you. You slowly open it inside before gasping seeing the latest technology you’ve always wanted. You dug your hand till it hit the bottom and saw a ticket to your favorite concert. “How did you know I wanted this? I always begged you to let me see this singer, but you wouldn’t hear me out…I…” you are feeling so many emotions. “I told you I was going to try my best to fix this” he smiles before letting out a grunt as you tackle him into a hug “thank you! Thank you!” You chanted. Miguel only lets out a small smile rubbing your back affectionately. You let him go and walked to the top cabinet grabbing a glass to fill. “let’s have breakfast before you head to work “you smile enjoying this small moment with him. Maybe your wish did come true, to stop feeling alone.

You walked down the halls of your high school. It was going to be your last year and you promised your friends you were going to make it a blast. Humming out a song you unlocked your locker. “Hey boo you’re in a much better mood.” Lyla appeared inside your locker snapping a selfie with you. “Glad you’re here, did you talk to my dad?” You asked her while collecting the items you’ll need on this day. “ wha? No, I didn’t. Why do you ask?” She looks at the selfie editing it. “He came home and made breakfast. He also got me tickets for the concert.” You smile enthusiastically looking at the AI. Lyla watches you “he did?” She was concerned, if she remembered correctly…Miguel was at the base this morning working but then again, he did slip out for a moment so maybe that’s where he went. Lyla only smiles “I’m so glad boo! Maybe Peter talked with him?” You nodded “I was thinking the same. Alright, I got to go Lyla.” You closed the locker going on to continue your education. Lyla stood in the pitch dark of the locker in deep thought “I’ll have to talk to Miguel” she mutters before disappearing.

School for once was a day you enjoyed, maybe it has to do with the fact you're slowly getting your father back. You’ll have to thank Peter once you get the chance to visit the Society HQ. You start to wonder what made him realize he has a daughter here. All this thinking made you hungry, spotting your favorite empanada stand. You walked over and got in line. ‘Maybe I’ll order extra to bring home’ you thought before smiling, giving your order to the kind old lady. Once you reached home, you closed the door behind you. “Are you home?” You call out placing the bag on the table. “Ya has vuelto de la escuela*?” Miguel emerges from the kitchen door. He glances at the bag. “Y eso?” He walked over looking into the box. “ I got you some empanadas” You smile before letting it falter seeing him sniff the bag. His face of disgust was present, “I’m not hungry, you eat it.” He quickly replaces the face of disgust into a smile. Something wasn’t right here, he loved empanadas. He would never reject it. “But it’s your favorite?” You sat down and grabbed a couple for yourself. Miguel grabs a glass of water, his back turned to you. He panicked for a bit before adding on, “Yes but I think I ate too many last time that it just makes me dislike it” He walks over rubbing your head, “It will go away and I’ll go back to liking them okay?” He pressed his lips to the side of your head before sitting down next to you. “Cómo fue tu día en la escuela*?” He asked. You only nodded taking his excuse before smiling, feeling his lip on the side of your head. “ It went well!” You ate the empanada while telling him how your day went.

Lyla stood behind Miguel watching him work away. “Hey Miguel” She appears in front of him. “Quick question” Miguel looks up at her and only grunts telling her to go on. “That was nice of you to get (Y/N) tickets to the concert” She sits on his shoulder waiting for his response. His answer only made her glitch and worried for you.

“What tickets?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Authors Note: Thank you so much! Your comments and likes made me see how this NEEDED to be a series. I'm still working on the other two projects hopefully next week I'll be able to complete the series for Location Status. So, I can focus on my other projects. Sorry for any grammar on the first part, I was using a tablet and it was all new to me. Remember to stay hydrated and to keep on simping! (Simp City Population: 66💕) Thank you for the likes and reblogs! Please reblog so others can be aware of my works! ILY 💕

Spanish Translation: (Remember some have double meaning or similar meaning) 1. “Buenos días, cariño: Good Morning Sweetie 2. Escucha, sé que no soy el mejor padre: Listen, I know I'm not the best father (Dad) 3. Ya has vuelto de la escuela: Are you back from school? 4. Y eso: And that or whats that? 5. Cómo fue tu día en la escuela: How was your day at school?

#miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara fic #across the spiderverse fic #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x fem!reader #father figure miguel ohara #miguel ohara x platonic reader #miguel ohara x daughter reader

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godmadeaterribleerror · 18 days ago

Text

Chapter 25 - All I Know

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: Finally accepting that this story is just a very horny, romantic rewrite of the Boys. Like we will be doing much plot and thesis, but the biggest theme is that the world could be exploding and these two would still find a way to be horny and in love about it.

Chapter Title from The Fall by Imagine Dragons

Word Count: 26.8k (my hand slipped, sorry)

Chapter Summary/Warnings: You and Ben take a trip to Red River. Usual warnings, plus some extra smut.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, smut, fluff, light angst, established relationship

Read on A03!

Chapter 24 - Chapter 26

The gun range is wrapped in glittering lights and colorful bubbles that bounce off the walls, and when the bang of the gun echoes through the room, you turn around, glaring at Ben’s determined, insufferably handsome face.

“It’s not working.”

“Keep fucking try-“

“Benjamin, I swear to God, if you tell me to keep fucking trying, I’ll cut off your left ballsack.”

He frowns. “Only the left one-“

“It’s my least favorite.”

“What the fuck is better about the right one-“

“Personal preference is a thing, Pretty Boy. Maybe it’s hairier, maybe it’s less hairy, and I’m never telling you which is which.”

“You’re only hurting yourself,” Ben drawls, leaning back against the wall. “If you tell me, I can start doing the same thing with the left one, and you’ll love both my ballsacks equally.”

“I already love them both equally,” you shrug, a grin creeping onto your face as you reload the gun in your hand. “If you don’t believe me, we can go home and I-”

“No.” Ben snaps, closing the space between you in two steps, grabbing your shoulders physically turning your body back to the target. “We’re going until you get it. Now.”

You tilt your head back to meet his eyes with a fake pout. “If you’re turning down my blowjob, am I allowed to shoot you-”

“Not turning it down, Sunshine.” Ben winks before grabbing your chin, moving your gaze back to the gun range. “Delaying it, until you fucking get this. Go.”

You sigh, and raise the gun. This is your sixteenth attempt to get this right, to fully control what Ben is calling your brain tricking shit. You’re supposed to fire the gun without Ben seeing or hearing, as he stands right behind you.

Of the many issues with this plan—you’re not sure you can fully control the sensory manipulation, it’s weird singing in a gun range, and Ben keeps being very distracting—the main one is that you’ve barely gotten better with a gun. You don’t stumble when you shoot it anymore, but it still takes a lot of focus to hit the target. Focus that you can’t spare.

Ben is convinced you can do it. That you’re perfectly fucking capable of doing this, Sunshine. You’re smart and strong and hot as fuck, and if you need motivation, I’ll eat you out when you get it. And fuck you. I’ll fuck you as well.

In a way, it’s comforting to know that love is making both of you idiots. Because Ben’s wrong—you won’t be able to control this, no matter how vulgarly and aggressively he believes in you—and you’re a lot more encouraged by the promise of Ben eating you out than he’ll ever get to know.

Overall, though, it’s probably a detrimental incentive. Ben’s still pressed against your back, and he’s correcting your form in an unnecessarily hands-on manner that’s making it simply impossible to focus. His arms are around you, and all you can think about is them pinning you down, caging you against your bed. His beard brushes against your cheek as he tells you something you don’t hear, and you want to feel it between your thighs. His hands are grabbing at your body, adjusting your stance and hold on the gun, and you want them everywhere. In your hair, rubbing patterns on your skin and your clit, slapping your pussy once before he pushes big, rough fingers deep inside of you and grumbles your name against your-

“You are not fucking paying attention to me.”

You blink at him, feeling your face flush. “Yes, I-“

“Don’t fucking lie, Sunshine.” Ben drops his face to being level with yours, a wide smirk on his face. “I can hear your heart racing, and you’re looking at me like you want to fucking eat me.”

“Shut up-”

“I want to fucking eat you, beautiful. Watch you squirm under me, hear you moan my fucking name.” He leans forward, lips brushing against your ear, breath sending a shiver down your spine. “That what you want? Want me to fucking ravish you?”

Ravish? Who taught you ravish?

You did, smartass. Ben drops to your neck, kissing a light trail across your collarbone. Answer my fucking question.

Yes, please. You take an uneven breath, and when Ben nips at that one spot, your whole body shudders. A soft, golden mist is filling the room, and just as the idea is forming in your head, Ben draws back.

“Then earn it-“

His smug words are cut off as you reach up, pulling his stupid, handsome face back down to yours. Kissing him with every piece of that unending thirst, sucking on his lower lip until he groans. Ben’s hands fly up—cupping your face and tugging you a little off the ground—and you can feel the hunger in him flare, overriding any resolve to finish training.

Not a fair fucking play, he grunts in your head, even as he jams his tongue down your throat, walking you backwards into the dividers. You think you’re really goddamn clever-

I am clever, you smile against him, keeping your hand carefully off the gun’s trigger. And you can just push me away-

Not a chance in fucking hell. Ben pushes his knee between your thighs, angling your head back and leaving sloppy kisses down your throat. I’m going to fuck you right here, clear that smart, pretty fucking head of yours, and then you’re going to finally goddamn focus.

The golden mist is growing stronger, starting to glow and cast the room in a soft, warm light. You tangle a hand in Ben’s hair, urging him further as you grind against his leg. Do I still get eaten out after?

His chuckle rolls through your body, clearing your brain to a pure, natural bliss. If you’re real fucking good, we’ll see.

You moan, leaning further into him, following the urge in you of Ben. The chorus of Ben, Ben, Ben, better than food and laughter and the sky and the ocean. Better than the sun and the stars and the earth and the music. Ben. His hands kneading on your waist, his teeth scraping on your skin, the smell of pine and gunpowder and coffee invading you everywhere. Light dancing off the walls, the world a little easier and better because the song of Ben is filling your body, making everything just good. So simply good.

Somewhere in the haze, you manage to raise the gun and pull the trigger. And when Ben doesn’t even flinch, you grin.

Did it.

His movements against you falter. Did what.

Earned it.

Ben draws back to his full height, frowning down at you. “What the fuck are you talking about.”

You gesture to the gun in your hand, then point to the range. To the small, still-smoking hole in the mattress-padded far wall.

Ben blinks at it, then looks back at you with narrowed eyes. “You missed.”

“I didn’t have to hit the target, I had to fire the gun without you noticing.” Your grin widens, all teeth and straining at your face. “So I fucking did it.”

You feel something charged and bright swell in Ben’s chest, and his thumb runs over your cheekbone with a careful touch as he scoffs. “I didn’t hear you singing-“

“Didn’t need to,” you shrug, dropping your head against his body. Burying your increasingly warm face where he can’t see it, muffling your words against his body. “Found another way.”

“What other way.”

It doesn’t help, how the low rumble of Ben’s voice is all around you, echoing off the walls of your ribcage, making something inside you fuzzy and wired. Doesn’t matter-

He grunts your name, and you sigh.

When, um, when I get turned on, I kind of-

You do the brain trick. I’ve noticed. He tugs on your hair, just enough to pull you back and meet his eyes. That worked for this shit?

Yeah. Your whole face is flushed, and your breath is already becoming shallow under Ben’s gaze, pulling you apart with a reverence that makes you swallow. It, um, it did. How did you know-

I’d have to be real damn stupid not to notice, Sunshine. You look like you’re made of fucking stars when you cum.

Don’t get fucking shy on me. Ben lifts you up into a soft kiss, and smirks against your lips. It gets me going. Could get there myself just by watching you. He pauses, and his hands drop under your thighs, pulling you up his body without ever fully taking his mouth from yours. Let’s do that.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you hum into him. Do what.

You’re going to fucking cum, and I’m going to watch-

“Ben,” you lean back, giving him a flat look. “You have to meet with Ryan right after this.”

“Then we’ll be quick-“

You snort. “We both know that’s a lie. We’re never quick. We say we’ll be quick, that I’ll just suck your dick and then we’ll go to dinner, and then you’re fingering me on the floor and I’m riding you until Annie calls us to ask why we’re twenty minutes late-“

“I am not going to feel bad for fucking you,” he grumbles, squeezing your ass as he hauls you further up his chest. “It’s your goddamn fault, you never stop me. You’re supposed to be the brains-“

“I am the brains,” you drag your hands over his back, rolling your hips against his torso, and Ben makes a low grunt that vibrates through your blood and bones. “Which is why I’m telling you that we’ll fuck later. After you train with Ryan.”

Ben scowls. “Brat.”

“Cunt.” You kiss his cheek, and Ben sighs, all his love in you furiously devoted, the world sharp as he leans into your touch. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he mutters your name, and you pull back to watch him, a wide, almost instinctual smile on your face. “We could be quick-“

“Nope.” You start to squirm out of his arms, and his grip on you tightens. You give him a sharp glare, and he shrugs.

“We’re not fucking done here-“

“Benjamin, what else could we possibly have to do-“

“You can’t only control the magic brain shit when you’re horny,” he snaps. “You have to do it with the goddamn music, or we have to find other ways-“

You sigh. “I know, but,” you shake your head, moving your hands to trace along his jaw, running the hair of his beard between your fingers. “It’s going to be a long day. We’ve got Red River, and we don’t know what to expect, and I don’t want to-“

“Fine.” Ben’s grunt is low, but it’s fueled by all the solid, zealous care in his body. Wrapping around your skin and heart, keeping you safe in his arms. “But tomorrow-“

“I’ll try it with the music.”

“You’ll fucking do it with the music-“

“Okay, Yoda.” You start to wiggle away once more, and this time Ben helps you down, keeping an arm around you under you’re on steady legs. “Thank you.”

“Don’t-“

You wrinkle your nose at him, folding your hand into his. “Let me thank you, or the ball cutting is back on the table-“

Ben tugs you forward—affection and amusement rushing through him at the small yelp that leaves your body—and spins you until you’re tucked at his side, his arm over your shoulders. “You won’t cut my balls, Sunshine.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, muttering the words into your hair. “You love me too fucking much, it would hurt you a lot damn more than it would hurt me.”

He’s right. You do love him too much. Ben’s eyes are electric on yours—holding you up into a light you’ve never felt before him, boring into a deep part of your body that only he’s seen—and you know you love him a little more than you should. Not because you shouldn’t love him—you’re meant to love Ben, nothing feels more natural and simple than loving Ben—but because you’re growing more and more certain that it’s not just a romantic notation you’ve invented in your Ben-addled brain, that you love him more than anyone’s ever loved anything. You do. Your love for him is bigger than the ever-expanding universe, stronger than every force that moves the world. It’s like gravity. Your love for Ben is solid and vast and everywhere. It’s inevitable, and permanent, and dependent, and so innately part of you that it’s in every breath and heartbeat. When Ben kisses the space between your eyes and lets you guide him out into the hall, mumbling a goodbye against your lips, he’s alight and warm in your chest. Humming and steady with his arms around you, all the same as when he turns and leaves to the gym, and you set off down the hall alone.

We’re fucking when I get home. We set aside specific time so I could fuck you before we left, and we’re goddamn using it. Ben’s words echo in the silence, and you smile into the air.

I think I can live with that. Deal.

Deal. There’s a pause, Ben’s love in your body sitting in ease at the top of your ribs, and then, what the fuck are you doing while I’m gone.

A-Train, I need to talk to him before we go.

The hell do we need from that pussy.

That’s not very nice, he’s been helpful-

He has not been fucking helpful-

Yes, he has.

How.

You pause, and squint at nothing. Technically, A-Train has provided incredibly useful information, if this was a year ago. If you were fighting a pre-Sage Vought, a pre-Sage Homelander, knowing Vought passwords and company secrets would’ve been helpful. But the game changed, and what constitutes helpful did as well.

You don’t have a goddamn clue-

Fuck you, he’s trying. And he can help with this.

What the fuck are you asking him.

Don’t you have to train Ryan-

He’s stretching. Answer my question.

You sigh. Red River. I want to know what he’s heard about it, if he has any idea what the fuck the Cornucopia is.

Annie didn’t-

Annie wasn’t in the tower for as long as A-Train was. And it can’t hurt to ask him.

Whatever. Be safe-

It’s just A-Train-

Be fucking safe anyway.

Can you tell Ryan I say hi.

I already did, tell me you’re going to be fucking safe-

I’ll be safe, Benjamin, you cunt. I love you.

Good. I love you too, Sunshine.

The presence of Ben fades into the static of the world around you as you continue down the hall, looking for A-Train’s apartment. You probably should’ve done this a few days ago, but you’ve been busy. Despite the perpetual news from Mallory that Singer was working on it, so be patient, you still had work to do.

You’d finally told Ben about the Soldier Boy V you’d given to Butcher. You hadn’t meant to keep it a secret, but you kept getting distracted. You’d remember that you needed to tell him at all the worst possible moments—the thought flashing through your head only moments before Ben was picking you up and dropping you onto the bed, burying himself between your thighs and making everything else seem less than important—so you’d done it over dinner, where that wasn’t a risk. Ben had said something old—it had probably been about music, because Hughie had looked like someone had shot him, but Ben had some sauce on his upper lip that you wanted to lick, so you weren’t really paying attention—MM had muttered someone needs to figure out how to make you look like the ancient asshole you are, and you’d remembered.

As the groans and glares had died down, you’d nudged Ben’s shoulder with your own, keeping your gaze passively on Frenchie as he talked about the various merits of French Rap. I need to tell you something.

What. What the fuck is wrong. You’d felt Ben’s eyes on you, the weight of his concern and care pressing on your lungs, and given a small shake of your head.

I’m okay, Ben. I did something, though, and I need to tell you. But you need to not break anything when I do.

He’d paused. What did you fucking do.

Promise you won’t lose it.

No. Tell me.

Benjamin-

I’m not swearing a single goddamn thing, Sunshine. You have the worst goddamn track record for secrets, and they always fucking hurt you. He’d paused, and the ache had flared slightly over his head and heart. They fucking hurt me.

You’d sighed, leaning your head onto his shoulder. This won’t hurt me. You might not like it, but I promise it won’t hurt me. I just need you to tell me you won't kill anyone.

He’d grumbled your name in your head. Just fucking tell me-

Please, Ben-

I won’t kill anyone. The fuck did you-

The V didn’t break. The V I took from the tower, our V, it didn’t break. I gave it to Butcher.

He’d gone rigid at your side, but both the table and Butcher had remained intact, so it felt like a victory. What.

I gave the V to Butcher-

And why the goddamn hell would you do that.

I didn’t want it. I didn’t want to chose what to do with it-

So you gave it to fucking Butcher?! The fuck is Butcher going to do with it?!

You’d shrugged, looking up at Ben’s scowl with raised brows. Use it, probably. I’d bet he’s going to use it.

Yeah, I fucking got that, smartass. Ben had rolled his eyes, hand fisting on the table as he shot Butcher a glare. Who the goddamn hell could he use it on. It doesn’t exactly have a perfect fucking success rate.

It doesn’t? You’d frowned, tugging Ben’s shirt until he looked back down to you. What do you mean.

I mean you and I are the only fucking survivors. I went into Dr. Vought’s trials with almost one-fifty other fuckers, I’m the only one that lived. You survived yours as well, and that’s it.

You’d blinked, glancing back at Butcher. Oh, shit. I didn’t know that.

Fucking obviously-

I don’t think he’s going to use it on just anyone, though. It’ll probably be himself. Probably.

Ben had sighed. Fine. But that was a stupid fucking move-

Or maybe it was genius-

Shut the fuck up, it was dumb as shit and you know it.

It had been dumb as shit. Of all your many hazardous and less-than-ideal plays, that one had been born of exhaustion and stress, of being cracked and tired and in pain, and not wanting just another fucking thing to deal with. But you’d still done it, and you weren’t going to take it back. You really don’t think Butcher will shoot up anyone but himself, because there’s no reason for him to use it on anyone else. He won’t create another random supe, he won’t want to make Ben more powerful, and every week he seems to want you dead just a little less. He might be dangerously close to trusting you, even.

So you’d managed to talk Ben into leaving it, and letting it play out. If Butcher doesn’t use it, it never gets used. If he does, he’ll have to live with the consequences of that action, and be stuck with you and Ben for the next million years.

It’s not your problem anymore. And, if you’re being honest, you don’t really regret it. You might not make the same choice again, but this way you can focus on what’s in front you. On figuring out why your step-father is in Singer’s cabinet, and what you’ll do if he screws you over. On how the Boys had silently sided with you over Mallory, but you haven’t told them about Edgar’s possible leak. It’s not safe to do here—where you’re almost certainly under surveillance by the very people you don’t trust—but you’ll have to do it eventually. And then you’ll have to figure out who the leak is, and if there’s anything you can do about it. And if there isn’t, you’ll have to figure out what to do about that.

Today, though, is about Red River. About finishing Ben’s deal with Edgar, and praying that the Cornucopia is just an expensive statue or painting, or maybe even a bucket.

It’s probably not, but it could be. It would be so fucking easy if Edgar just wanted a very fancy bucket, and had decided to be as stress-inducing as possible about it. You have fifty dollars on the Cornucopia being a collection of classified Vought documents, but you’ll gladly lose that money to Frenchie’s bucket bet. You’ll do almost anything to lose that money, and just have to pick up a bucket.

It was really the best possible option, and a lot easier to live with than Butcher’s very unhelpful bet of child, or MM’s bet of supe-killing weapon.

You were starting to think constant betting on life-ending events wasn’t a great way to run a CIA private-ops team. But you also didn’t have much else to do, and it was your only source of income, so if Butcher slams a fist on the table and yelled thirty quid that Sage and the Deep are fuckin, and that’s the only reason he ain’t dead, you’ll take that, amending your bet to they were fucking, but he gave her a fish-based STD and they stopped.

And it’s better to joke about these things, because the other option is dwelling on how truly fucked your life is. How much of the world hinges on you and the Boys getting this right, no fuck ups, no loose ends, no debts to Edgar or stupid mysteries to solve, just a dead Homelander and a bankrupt Vought.

Which is why you probably should’ve talked to A-Train as soon as MM told you Red River was a go. There were things you did have to do, like tracking Sage’s movements and speeches, keeping up with the various news and theories about your disappearance, preparing to meet with Singer and Muller, and working out a plan to get the V into Homelander, but you still had free time. You used a fair amount of it to help Ryan do his homework, or visit Annie and Hughie, or talk to Kimiko, but the majority of it was dedicated to Ben. Watching TV with him, training with him, cooking with him and laughing with him and fucking him. Sitting half on his lap when you made him and Ryan lunch, visiting them in the gym and talking to Ryan about books as Ben traced patterns on the skin of your leg.

Some of that time could’ve been sacrificed to visit A-Train. But you hadn’t wanted to. You’d wanted to let Ryan show you his progress, and feeling the undeniable pride flash and inflate over Ben’s chest. And it wasn’t like A-Train was going anywhere. Most of his time was spent sulking in his apartment, attending occasional dinners and refusing to participate in conversation. You didn’t judge that—it wasn’t like Ben was any better, you’re pretty sure that if it wasn’t for you and Ryan he’d be a hermit—but it did make talking to him feel less urgent. He was always in the same mood, annoyed, so you never had to worry about catching him at the right time.

It’s dependable. How when you knock on his door, it opens in a second and A-Train watches you with a weary, uneasy glare.

“What are you doing here.”

You frown, crossing your arms with a shrug. “Visiting you.”

“Why.”

“Am I not allowed to-“

“We’ve barely spoken since you got back,” A-Train snaps. “So why now. What do you want.”

“I don’t-” You cut yourself off with a sigh, guilt sparking in your gut. “Can I come in? To talk?”

A-Train looks you up and down, and for a second you think he’s going to turn you down. To tell you to eat shit and fuck off, let him wallow in peace. But he steps back, and jerks his head into the apartment, waiting for you to step inside before almost knocking you over with a gust of wind as he runs to sit at his dining room table.

You move to join him, glancing around the apartment and realizing it’s bare bones. Everyone has done something with their space—even Butcher’s black and white, cold-war akin minimalism has improved with Ryan moving in—but A-Train’s only has the basics. The generic, catalog type furniture the CIA provided to start with, nothing on the walls or floor, no plants or blankets or small pieces of evidence that someone lives here. If it wasn’t for the crumb-covered plate on the counter, you’d have mistaken it for one of the empty apartments.

“This isn’t my home,” A-Train mutters, and you realize you’d been staring. “It’s temporary. Until you dumbasses do your jobs and this shit is finished, then I can go home for real.”

“Is that what you want to do?” You tilt your head at him, lowering yourself into the seat opposite him. “When we’re done? Go home?”

“What else is there to do?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “You could try the hero thing for real-“

A-Train scoffs. “We both know there’s no world where that works. If it’s not another Vought, it’ll be the government fucking things up. They’ll build more places like this,” he nods to the wall and ceiling, giving you a flat look. “And turn supes into weapons instead of celebrities. At least with Vought they had to worry about approval ratings and quarterly sales. The CIA won’t.”

He’s right. You know he’s right, deep down, because you don’t have a retort or argument in your head that doesn’t circle back to being in his favor. It’s why you don’t trust Mallory, because in the end her loyalty isn’t to you, it’s to the government. To an overall, subjective greater good. In a careful order with minimal damage to the least people, without elimination of the problem altogether. Homelander’s death, Vought’s downfall, won’t fix the supe problem.

“What would you have the supes do after?” You ask A-Train, tone slow and cautious. “They won’t go into retirement, but we can’t just kill them. I mean, this has been your whole life-“

“I didn’t want it, though. I mean, I did want the money and the fame, but everyone wanted the money and the fame. I didn’t ask for this shit, it’s not my job to make it better.”

“You still did things you didn’t have to, though.” Your fingers tap against the wood of the table as you frown at him. “You’re not innocent, just because you didn’t start this. Whether or not you asked for it, you still benefited. You could’ve walked away at any point-“

“What, like Annie?” A-Train rolls his eyes. “Use my powers for good, fight against the system?”

“Maybe, yeah-“

“You can’t fight against this system,” A-Train hisses your name, and leans over the table with a scowl. “I just gamed it, and you can’t fucking blame me for that. I’m helping you because it’s the right thing, but that’s it. I’m not cleaning up the mess after.”

“I’m not asking you to,” you snap, your patience fraying. You don’t want to fight, but you’re still really tired, and you’re getting more and more sick of people just telling you they’ll only help on their terms. “I’m just pointing out that you’re not a victim. And yeah, you left Vought, and you’re helping us, but only because it’s convenient to your bottom line. If you really want to make up for everything, you’ll do something that’s not easy for you.”

“This shit isn’t-“

“It is. For you, it really is. Your family is safe and you’re not in any real danger. You’re hiding, not fighting. And I know you want to do something more-“

“No, I don’t.” A-Train sneers. “You don’t want to do this. Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about picking up with Soldier Boy and just leaving, letting the people who actually fucked the world up put it back together. Hell knows I want to-“

“But you haven’t. You’re still here, just like I am, because you know that the people who fucked this won’t fix it. We have to-“

“We don’t have to do anything-“

“We do. There’s no after until we’re done. And nobody’s going to finish this but us. And us includes you.”

A-Train pauses, examining your set, taut features. “You thought about after?”

“A little, yeah.” You pause, taking a long breath and focusing on Ben’s love, still beating in your chest. “I will say you were right about that. It helps.”

“You going to make a life with Soldier Boy?” A-Train watches you carefully. “Or keep working for a bunch of ungrateful government dicks?”

“I’m not sure,” you mumble, letting a little bit of your frustration leave your fingers and stomach. “But a life does sound nice.”

“With Soldier Boy?”

“With Ben.” Always with Ben. Whether or not you’re dealing with the aftermath or living a peaceful, happy life far away from the mess in your wake, you’ll be doing it with Ben.

A-Train nods, and grunts, “Congrats on that, by the way.”

“Um,” you sigh, giving him an apologetic glance. “Look, I’m sorry about the whole you have to keep it a secret thing-“

“I was fine. It was annoying as shit, but mostly because he was so clearly fucking obsessed with you.” A-Train shrugs, leaning back in his chair. “You can’t sit in a room with that guy for ten minutes without the conversation somehow becoming about you. So good work.”

You flush, and Ben’s love hums inside you. “Oh. Thanks?”

“No problem.”

“Do you have an after? Will you go back to your family?”

“They won’t take me,” A-Train mutters, eye dropping to glare at the table. “My brother won’t forgive me, and that means I won’t get to see my nephews. I’ll probably just fuck off.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere. I always wanted to go to those huge fucking mountains, the Rockies.”

“You’ve never been to the Rockies-”

“For press shit, yeah.” A-Train leg stops bouncing, his frown deepening. “But I wanted to go for myself.”

You hum. “So home will be Colorado-”

“Home,” A-Train mutters. “Will be any shit hole in the world that’s not here.”

You understand that. For the rest of your life, no matter where you go, there will always be a small part of you that’s afraid of the New York skyline. Even when it’s irrational, you’ll hate skyscrapers that Homelander could be watching you from, and billboards that could slide to his cruel, cold, evil smile watching you with teeth like eyes. You’re going to be haunted by the small things for a while. Even when Ben is there, you’re going to be crippled by leather and coconut and blue and the hum of a ceiling fan. It will get better, time and love will make it better, but it will always be a scar that follows you everywhere. It’s part of what’s making you tired, being here. Where Homelander and the CIA are still an ax over your head, looming closer and closer as you near the end.

“Would you want to go back to your family?”

Your question is measured and slow, and A-Train huffs. “Of course I fucking would. But Nate-“

“Forgiveness is earned.” You shrug. “You can’t just take it. It has to be given.”

“Whatever.”

You glare at him. “I’m serious. If you ever want there to be a chance for your brother to forgive you, you’ll have to prove you’ve changed.”

He snorts, expression bored and flat. “And you’re going to tell me the only way is to step up, be a hero.”

“Wrong.” You narrow your eyes at him. “You don’t know me. Or what I’m going to say. And I don’t know your family, so I was done there. Maybe you’ll have to be a hero, maybe you’ll just have to be selfless once, and that will be it. But I don’t know.”

“Fine.” A-Train mutters, his eye roll not subtle, but also not filled with toxins. “You want to tell me what you’re here for now?”

You could keep pushing, but you don’t. It’s not your job to fix A-Train, so you leave it. Taking a long breath, chewing on your lip and studying A-Train’s passive frown. “Red River.”

A-Train blinks. “What?”

“The supe orphan-“

“I know what Red River is. Why are you talking about it?”

You swallow. “Has anyone mentioned the whole Stan Edgar thing to you?”

A-Train’s eyes widen. “No. Nobody tells me shit, what did Edgar do-“

“Technically nothing,” you mumble. “Ben sort of owes him a favor. We have to get something for him, from Red River. And I wanted to ask if you have any idea what it might be.”

“He didn’t tell you?” A-Train frowns, and you’re grateful he doesn’t dwell on the Ben owes Edgar a favor thing. To be fair, it’s probably because he doesn’t care, but it still makes this a lot easier.

“Nope. Just said to pick up the Cornucopia and bring it back to him.”

“The Cornucopia? Like one of those weird horns?”

A-Train either has genuinely no clue what you’re talking about, or is an incredible actor. You don’t think it’s the latter, because his look of such pure confusion is hard to fake.

“We don’t know,” your brow draws together as you try to remember every idea for what the Cornucopia could be, and how likely a literal cornucopia was in comparison to Kimiko’s pitch of just a lot of money. “Maybe. But it sounds like a codename, and I wanted to know if you had any sort of idea about it. Or anything about Red River that we might not know.”

“You ask Annie?”

You shake your head. “She knows just as much about it as the rest of us. But you were there longer-“

“I also got kicked out for a year, in case you idiots forgot. And I wasn’t exactly Edgar’s best friend-“

“If you don’t know anything, just say that and I’ll leave. You don’t need to be a dick.”

A-Train blinks. “Really.”

His voice is flat, disbelieving, and you sigh. “Yeah. Really. I’m not here to fight, I just had to ask. If you don’t know, you don’t know.”

“I,” A-Train hesitates, and he shakes his head slightly. “I don’t know. About the Cornucopia, I’ve never even heard of it. But Red River. I know some stuff about that.”

You’re silent, giving him a sharp nod to continue as you go still in your chair.

“It’s not just Vought that funds it. It’s subsidized, by the government.”

“How do you-“

“Ashley told me.” A-Train says, shifting slightly in his chair as his legs start to shake the table. “After you guys pretended to kill Neuman, she had to go through all their records and make sure nobody could figure out the connection. And she found records from the past thirty years, massive tax write-offs without explanation, that essentially pay for half of that place.”

You nod slowly. “And she didn’t know before.”

“No.” A-Train gives a dry snort. “They tell her less than they told me.”

“So,” you bite your tongue, picking out your words carefully. “It’s a federal sponsorship. The IRS would have to approve the write-offs.”

“I guess-“

“It makes sense why they would. Don’t want rogue, unstable parent-killing babies running around with the general public. And the government has to have known about compound V for a while, they sponsored the Soldier Boy trials as well.” You frown into the air, rising to your feet as your brain continues to turn. “Um, thanks,” you glance back down at A-Train, still in his seat. “This was helpful.”

“Are you-“

“I have to go. But, really, thank you.” You give him an awkward thumbs up, walking backwards to the door. “I just need to figure something out. Now.”

You half run into the hall, and don’t wait for the door to close behind you to shout down your line to Ben.

Red River is government funded.

There’s only a split-second pause before he responds. What.

A-Train says Red River gets huge tax write-offs, for no reason. Enough to cut the cost in half.

How the fuck does he-

Ashley told him. This isn’t good, Ben. Red River covered up compound V’s less than ideal results, and the government has to have had a reason to cover up V. It can’t just be the kindness of their hearts. There has to be some sort of deal.

The government and Vought were real fucking tight in my day. Maybe it’s just a roll over from then, and none of these dumb fucking pussies have noticed.

No, it’s only the past thirty years. That’s in the nineties, after Vought and the government drifted away from each other. And it’s millions of dollars, someone would have noticed.

Well that’s all I fucking had, Sunshine. What do you-

I don’t know. You sigh. I’m worried though. We’re going there this afternoon, and if it’s government sponsored-

No telling who the fuck will be waiting for us.

Exactly. We need to-

You yelp as someone filled with tension across their body and a bitter, foul hollow in their chest grabs your arm, and yanks you into a dark room. Your fist makes contact with something, you hear a crunch, and then a shout of pain.

“The bloody hell is your problem?!” You hear shuffling—a few things falling over and several more low grunts—and a light flicks on. You’re in a cleaning supply closet, and Butcher is glaring at you like he wants to kill you, holding his bloody nose with one hand. “You ain’t allowed to just fuckin punch people-“

“I’m allowed to punch people who drag me into dark closets! For the second fucking time!” You snap, keeping an eye on Butcher as you turn inwards to Ben, pounding in your chest as his voice roars your name in your head.

God fucking damnit, his voice is strain, his love pulling tight over your chest. Fucking answer me-

I’m okay, you glare at Butcher, who’s shifting through the shelves for some paper towels, blood dripping on the floor. Butcher pulled me into a closet, instead of just asking me to talk like a normal fucking person.

A weight dissipates from your lungs, and something loosens from around your throat. Fucking Christ, Sunshine, you nearly gave me a heart attack.

You can’t get heart attacks-

Shut the fuck up, I’m serious. Don’t do that.

You sigh. He’s getting better about the overprotection—you haven’t fought about Red River again, and he’s not trying to push against you going to the next Singer meeting—but it’s never going to fully stop. He’s Ben, worrying over you and caring about you is how he shows you he loves you. And you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t adorable, that it didn’t make you love him all the more. The darker side of it breaks your heart, the fear—though he’ll never call it that himself—that eats at Ben, that he’ll fail you again. But in better moments, it’s Ben wrapping himself over your body, shoving food in front of you with a scowl, and kissing you like he’s just returned from war when you’ve only been apart for two hours.

This is born from the fear, though. So you make your voice soft, gentle and soothing. I know. I’m okay, I promise.

Good. There’s a pause, and then, what the fuck does Butcher want.

Don’t know yet, he’s mostly just being a massive bitch about me breaking his nose.

You broke his nose?

I think. You squint at Butcher, trying to tell if the crooked shape of the bridge was you, or one of the countless other people who also decided his face was punchable. Probably.

Ben glows in your chest, his voice smug. That’s my girl.

Thank you. Your face flushes, and his chuckle bounces around your ribs. Are you done with Ryan?

Just finished. He told me to tell you that he finished reading Percy Jackson, and I told him to tell you himself-

You just did tell me, Ben.

Shut the fuck up.

Did he really finish already? The books arrived yesterday-

It’s not like he’s got a fuck ton else to do. It’s just reading those damn books, and training with me. He’s getting fucking good, by the way. Did a clean cut on the target today, so get ready to hear about it for a damn year at dinner.

You smile into the air, something so incredibly bright and strong easing over your heart. We won’t be at dinner, Ben. We have Red River.

Fuck. There’s a pause, and then, We do. Forgot to tell him-

I’ll have Butcher do it. And tell that we’ll have breakfast with him tomorrow morning.

We-

Yes, we. You’re making pancakes. Talk when I’m home?

You hear his grunt, and can perfectly picture his small, rough nod. Fine.

I love you.

I love you too, Sunshine. Tell Butcher to eat my fucking taint.

You have to know I’m not going to do that-

“You done bein all fuckin lovey-dovey with Soldier Boy? I ain’t got a million damn years, Love, and I’m sure he’ll be all laid out and ready to fuck when we’re finished.”

I’ll see you at home, Benjamin. You glare at Butcher—the bleeding has stopped, plugged by two tissues stuffed in his nostrils—as Ben turns back into a warm imprint near your heart and a faint smell of pine around you. “You kidnapped me-“

“This ain’t a kidnappin-“

“And I’m busy, what’s so urgent that-“ You cut yourself off, swallowing down your words as you look around the closet. “Do they bug the storage spaces?”

“Nah, I did a real tight sweep before, ain’t nothin in here but spiders and windex-“

You whirl around, locking the door. “I need to ask you something.”

“I’m the one who’s askin you-“

“And if you want an answer,” you turn back around, glaring at Butcher and crossing your arms. “You’ll answer my question.”

“I thought you were in a fuckin hurry.” Butcher sneers. “Suddenly you got the time when I can be your question whore-“

“Shut up. Did Mallory approve Red River?”

Butcher coughs. “She, ah, she ain’t aware we’re going.”

You blink at him, gaping slightly. “At all?”

“She thinks we’re still in-fighting. Deliberatin. Hughie gonna drive you lot in my car, she won’t even know you bloody left-“

“Yeah, that’s not what I’m worried about.” You sigh, narrowing your eyes at Butcher. “Why. Why haven’t you told her.”

Butcher shrugs. “Same fuckin reason you gave me the V and not her, I reckon.”

There’s a silence for a second as you and Butcher glare at each other, neither of you willing to say it first.

You don’t have all day, though, so it’s good that Butcher breaks when he does.

“I don’t trust her with Ryan. She still wants to use him against Homelander, but he’s ain’t ready for that. Becca,” Butcher tugs one of the tissues out of his nose, crumpling it in his hand. “She wouldn’t have wanted that. She’d have fuckin loathed the idea.”

“Okay.” Your fingers start to tap against your arm, and you lean back against the door. “Why don’t you trust her on Red River.”

Butcher drops the blood-stained tissue to the ground, kicking it under a shelf. “You don’t trust her on Red River.”

“You don’t trust me-“

“I trust you with Ryan.” His words are clipped and shot, and he holds your glare. “You ain’t gonna put him in danger, and he likes you. Thinks you’re fuckin sliced cotton candy and coke. Grace don’t trust you, but she thinks you ain’t able to see the bottom line-“

“Because of Ben.” You mutter, nails digging into your skin, and Butcher scoffs.

“We don’t got to keep pretending, Love. You’ll blow the whole fuckin world up for that cunt.”

“I-”

“But you’d do that shit for Ryan, too.” Butcher’s glare doesn’t soften, but it wavers. And you realize it was never hateful, just guarded. Like Butcher’s still trying to find a reason to hate you, and it’s frustrating him that he can’t. “And you’re still fuckin here. You’re still fightin, and I ain’t gonna police you if you’re gettin results. You and Soldier Boy hurt my fuckin eyes with all your damn moonin over each other, but are less bleedin unstable cock-twats when you’re together, so I ain’t gonna compromise that either.”

“Compromise-“

Butcher gives you a flat look. “We both know if Grace knew what was really up with this Red River shit, she’d cut it off at the bloody head, and Edgar wouldn’t be real fuckin pleased with Soldier Boy. Think of it as an olive branch. I’ll keep your back if you don’t fuckin stab me in mine.”

You extend a hand. “Deal.”

Butcher hesitates, glancing at your bare skin, then back up to your bored, neutral face, his expression uneasy. And just when you think he’s going to tell you to take his word, his hand shoots out. His grip is like iron—as if he thinks he can keep the empathy away from his body through sheer, brute will—and a rush of that same, souring and shadowed feeling rushes through your body. It’s tired, but not like you. This tired isn’t cold and cracked, it’s like a tornado. Pushing and pushing and pushing, tearing through the world in just a little more until it’s forced to drop.

The feeling is yanked from your body as Butcher releases you, taking a step back and rubbing his hand like you’d burned him—you hadn’t, you’d been very careful not to burn him—and you run your tongue over your teeth, raising your brows at him.

“You wanted to ask me something.”

Butcher nods—hands sliding into his pockets as he looks you up and down—and his words sound forced, like he hates saying them. “What was it like. Bein made into a supe as an adult.”

You’ve tried not to think about that. You’ve locked that memory—of the V being pumped into your body—far, far in the back of your head. It had felt like death, and every time after the first had only been worse. It had been everywhere, ripping apart your body and searing into your bones, boiling your blood and freezing your organs and muscles and nerves. Your whole body had only been pain. You can’t pass out because you’re being kept awake by this pain. It’s not blinding or numbing or deafening, it’s consuming. Everywhere in your body had been pain.

“It,” you pause, taking a long, steady breath. “It hurt. A lot.”

“How fuckin long.”

“It changed every time. First shot was the longest, but the ones after hurt more.”

Butcher shifts slightly on his feet. “Does it feel different. Than bein human.”

“I’m still human-“

“You know what I bloody meant-“

“Yeah, and that’s why I’m fucking correcting you.” Butcher almost flinches at your tone—sharp and cool—but doesn’t break your gaze as you continue. “I’m still fucking human, Butcher. I didn’t turn into a monster, or an animal, or an alien. I’m a human, and that’s it.”

Butcher’s lip curls. “We both know it ain’t that fuckin simple. I got a career in callin supe bullshit, Love, stompin them out when they stop pretendin to be human-“

“Nobody’s pretending to be anything, they’re just human-“

“I’ll believe that when I’m shown some fuckin evidence-“

“You have seen evidence,” you hiss, a slight itch under your skin but no smoke curling from your fingers. “You live with the fucking evidence. Kimiko’s evidence, Annie’s evidence, I’m fucking evidence. If I wasn’t human anymore, I’d have never even bothered working with you. You would have cornered me in the graveyard, and I would’ve just killed you. At any given point in the past year, I could’ve just fucking killed you. But I didn’t, because murder makes me feel bad. And you’ve killed a fuck ton more people than Annie and I combined.”

“What about your beloved Ben?” Butcher sneers, back straightening as he returns your glare with a mocking tone. “He ain’t any better than I am, I’d wager he’s got the blood of fuckin hundreds on his hands. Blood that wouldn’t be there if not for the V.”

That’s not the shot at you Butcher thinks it is. You’d spent hours fighting with yourself over that, and you’ve always drawn the same conclusion. You don’t care. As long as Ben keeps trying, keep proving to you in a thousand different ways that he cares—really, really cares about you and Ryan and, to a certain degree, your friends—you don’t care who he was. It’s not your job to forgive him, he’s never actually hurt you, but you don’t hold who he was against him.

But you also know everything sadistic and crude that Ben did still wasn’t the V, it was him. He was a byproduct of his father, of Vought, of that razing and obliterating anger you’ve felt in him from the start, but it was still Ben who put the blood on his hands himself.

Just like it’s Ben who’s wiped the stains of blood off of yours. Ben who’s been the first person to tell Ryan that none of this fucking shit is your fault, kid. Your dad’s an ass-leeching cock-pulling pussy, and you’re not. That’s fucking it, so don’t feeling guilty about something you didn’t do. Sins of the father, right Sunshine? and have Ryan believe it. Ben who kisses the space between your eyes and makes you smile and picks you up when you’re too tired to make the small walk up the stairs. Ben who gave Ryan an awkward, well-meaning pat on the head when Ryan had managed to hit a moving target for the first time, and made a wide-eyed, adorably confused face when Ryan had hugged him right after, but still returned the hug without hesitation.

“He’s better,” you keep your voice bored and passive, angling your chin up to look down at Butcher, even as he stands above you. “He’s being better. I’ll never pretend he hasn’t done horrible things, but he’s changed, and that’s proof that he’s still human. Homelander’s a human as well, he’s just a horrible one. The V doesn’t turn people evil, Butcher, it’s their actions and choices.”

Butcher’s silent, and when you examine his face in the florescent light of the closet, he’s paler than you've seen him before, and his nose keeps twitching with his jaw, as if he’s trying to fight down a bad smell or taste.

“Why are you asking?” You know why he’s asking. You’re just testing if he’s willing to tell you. See how far this deal of got your back goes. You think Butcher is going to tell you to mind your own fuckin business.

He doesn’t. And you trust him a little more.

“I ain’t shot up yet,” Butcher grunts your name, whole body tenses like he might make a break for it at any second. “So get the fuckin thought out of your head-“

“You’re thinking about it though, aren’t you.”

He scowls. “That’s not your bloody business-“

“I know.” You shrug. “I gave the V to you because I don’t want it to be, so I’m not going to make this choice for you, Butcher-“

“I ain’t askin you to-“

“But,” you continue, ignoring Butcher’s protests. “I can tell you it hurts. It really hurts, and you feel like you’re going to die, and you might. This V isn’t the stable, mass-produced V. Ben says he and I are the only survivors. And if we count Stormfront, that’s three out of a hundred and fifty-two users that survived. Your odds aren’t great, but they’re not non-existent, and nobody’s allowed to make that gamble but you.” You tilt your head at Butcher, at his bloodless features, washed out in the light of the closet. “I can also tell you it won’t make you evil. If you take the chance, and it pays off, you’re still going to be you. And if you go on a rampage, killing anyone in your path, that will still be you. And you’ll have no one to blame but yourself. Got it?”

Butcher looks like he wants to yell at you, or taunt you, or maybe punch you. His jaw grinds as he nods, hands jammed almost violently into his pockets, and when you turn to leave he makes a low, strangled cough, pausing your hand on the door knob.

“I die,” he grunts, eyes resting uneasily on yours. “What will you do with Ryan.”

“Take care of him.” You don’t even have to think before you answer, the words almost falling out of your mouth. “We’ll make sure he’s safe. Just like now.”

“You and Soldier Boy.”

“Yeah. And tell him we’ll have breakfast with him tomorrow.” You give a tight nod, turning the handle slowly. “We done?”

Butcher makes a low huff, and you take it to be one of affirmation. And if it wasn’t, Butcher doesn’t try to stop you from opening the door and stepping out into the hall, leaving him alone in the flickering light of the closet.

It’s not your problem how this ends for Butcher. If he has an after, if he wants an after. He has his hand to play, and how he uses it isn’t within your control. But he’s got your back now, and you won’t stab him in his. Mostly because your back is your after—if this could be over before summer ends, A-Train was right, you really need to think about an after—and your after involves Ryan. Every fantasy and thought of a world with no Homelander. A world that’s still in ruins, but the storm has passed and now you can dedicate yourself to rebuilding, is you and Ben—always you and Ben—and Ryan. And Annie, and Hughie, and Kimiko and Frenchie and MM. Butcher is, against your better judgment, welcome as well.

But Butcher’s back is only Ryan. Your back is something better. A lifetime of smiling and watching Ben’s face light up with a pride you can feel in his ribs, of Ryan getting a real childhood, of having conversations with your friends that aren’t overshadowed by the constant fear that plagues all your lives.

So you have Butcher’s back. If he has his own back isn’t your problem.

You have enough problems to worry about as it is. There are two hours left until you, Ben, Hughie, and Kimiko leave for Red River. If Mallory doesn’t know you’re going, then you’re probably in the clear, but you still have to figure out some precautions.

You, Hughie, and Kimiko will have to turn off your cell-phones. There’s going to have to be a very strict no murder rule, as opposed to the usual, looser maim if necessary, and if that kills them, they should’ve tried harder not to die, rule. Someone will have to keep an eye on the door, and any Red River employees who might identify your identities. Ben won’t be able to wear his supe suit, and he’s not going to be happy about that.

He’s waiting for you when you walk into the apartment. Sitting at the dining table, fists curled on the wood and already glowering at you when you walk through the door.

“The fuck did Butcher want.”

You cross the room to Ben’s side—it’s half on instinct, your legs moving without thought—and wrinkle your nose at him. “No hello? Just straight to business, not even going to wine and dine me?”

“If you want me to wine and dine you right fucking now, Sunshine, all you have to do is ask.” He grins, turning his chair out and pulling you between his legs, letting your hands brace on his broad shoulders. “But you’re always on my damn ass about priorities-“

Ben’s words fall into a deep hum as you lean down—taking his stupid, smug, unreasonably attractive face between your hands—and give him a long, soft kiss. His hands tighten on your hips, tugging you down until you fall forwards, straddling his lap and leaning onto his chest.

You separate in harmony, Ben kissing your brow as you take a long, ragged breath, running your fingers through his beard, sitting in the feeling of his love. Warm and focused and alive in your body, paired with the gentle patterns his hand is tracing on your upper thigh, and the way that—when you look up to meet his eyes—he’s watching you the same way he always does. Like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen, and you’re only getting better with time.

“Hi,” you whisper, and Ben’s grin overtakes his whole face, sending something in your brain in a haywire of Ben. Ben, Ben, Ben.

“Hi, my love.” He bumps his nose with yours, and you can’t stop the easy, bright giggle that escapes you. Not when it makes the love in him start to roll around, beating against his chest to move further into you. “You want business later? Because I have a few fucking ideas for the pleasure-“

“You always have ideas for that. I’m pretty sure half your thoughts are just ideas for fucking.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs, and the movement makes his cock—half-hard in his sweatpants—brush against your thigh, causing your thighs to push together slightly. He notices, he always notices, the asshole, and winks at you. “And you fucking love it.”

“Fuck you,” you mumble, dropping your head to rest of his neck, his chuckle rumbling through every part of your body.

“I will, right goddamn now if you want.” Ben’s arm around your waist drops, letting him squeeze your ass once as he lowers his mouth to brush over your ear. “But we won’t get any fucking business done, beautiful. Once you say the word, we’re going for the rest of the goddamn afternoon. So get all your lecturing and thoughts out now, before I fuck them out of you.”

You swallow, hugging his torso and squirming a little further up his body. He gives a low groan, and you smile against his skin. Think you’ll be able to pay attention, Benjamin? Sure you can focus on something other than fucking for fifteen minutes?

Ten.

We’re not negotiating-

The fuck we aren’t. You get ten minutes, then I get started.

We have two hours before we have to go-

And we’ll have to shower all the fucking cum off of you, and I’ll probably fuck you in there as well. Nine minutes.

You sigh against him, force yourself not to think about how he’s all sweaty from the gym—how you can taste the salt on his skin and feel his arms flexing around you—and start running through the highlights. I was right, Butcher’s going to use the V on himself. He wanted to know what it was like, when they injected me with it.

What did you tell him.

That it hurt. A lot.

Ben nods, his chin resting on the top of your head. I remember that shit. Felt like someone was fucking flaying me alive. He pauses, and you can hear the hitch of his breath in his throat. Did it hurt every time. When those science pussies did the other shots.

Yeah. More, actually.

You feel that sore ache, solid and wrathful and bloody, flare over your skin—Ben’s skin—and sigh into him.

There’s nothing you could’ve done about that, Ben. We didn’t even know each other-

That doesn’t mean I don’t want to fucking kill the cock-heads that did it. His love and care—all made of stone and zeal—rumbles through you with his voice, and his arms tug you a little closer. Nobody should fucking hurt you-

But they did, and it’s done. And I killed them already, so don’t throw a temper tantrum.

I’m not throwing a fucking temper tantrum-

Yes, you are. You kiss Ben’s throat, and a low grunt escapes his chest as you smile against him. But I love you for it, you giant fucking man child.

Shut the fuck up. His words are grumbled between your heads, but you can feel the glow in him start to spread over his every muscle and bone. Five minutes. What about A-Train. Red River.

Mallory doesn’t even know we’re going, so we’re good. We’ll have to be careful, though. No powers, no murder, no going off book.

What fucking book, we’re always just making this shit up as we go-

You look up, giving Ben a flat look. Let’s say the Genova conventions and call it a day. No war crimes.

It’s a goddamn orphanage-

Extra reason to be careful. We’re going in, getting the Cornucopia, and leaving. That’s it.

Ben rolls his eyes, but nods. A-Train got any idea what the fuck we’re getting, or is he still being a useless fucking pussy.

Nothing. You sigh, leaning back in Ben’s arms and tapping your fingers against his chest. Said he’d never even heard of it.

Because he’s fucking useless-

He’s trying, Ben. And Annie hadn’t heard of it either, I just wanted to cover all our bases. We’re going to find out soon anyway.

If it’s another fucking kid-

It’s not going to be another kid. Butcher’s just dramatic.

But if it is, we should keep it.

You blink at him. What?

I don’t trust Edgar with a kid, and Ryan needs friends who aren’t fucking us and Kimiko. Like Neuman’s kid, he said they were friends. We should bring them here-

Are you trying to start a new orphanage? You give him a look of disbelieving amusement, tracing a hand over his jaw. Soldier Boy’s home for wayward baby supes? Am I going to come home one day and we’ll suddenly have a bunch of stray children?

That sore, itching embarrassment starts to crawl over Ben’s skin. Shut the fuck up, I’m just saying that if it’s a kid, we shouldn’t just fucking give it to Edgar-

We won’t, I promise. But I really don’t think it’s going to be a kid, Ben.

He sighs. Yeah, you’re holding out for the fucking bucket still.

It would make things easier-

Things are never fucking easier, Ben mutters your name in the silence, searching your face carefully. And I’ve fucking got you, but this might backfire. You need to goddamn swear to me you’ll be ready-

I’m ready for anything, Pretty Boy. You give him a kiss on the cheek, pressing your brow to his. And if it’s a kid, we’ll figure out what to do. Together.

You open your eyes, and find him still watching you, and if you couldn’t feel his adoration, you could see it. It’s painted all over his face, glazing over his eyes as he looks at you. He’s everything, and the whole universe feels trapped between your bodies, floating around somewhere near the place where that part of you—alive in him—calls you back home. To Ben, every time.

I love you, Sunshine, his hand has drifted up your back, tangling in your hair. Christ, I really fucking love you.

I know. You smile, and all your love for him explodes through every part of the world as he grins back. I love you too, Benjamin. And I’d very happily run a supe orphanage with you. I’d happily do most things with you, you massive fucking cunt.

Good. Ben gives a small nod, his face suddenly falling into an intense concentration. Time’s up.

You yelp as Ben’s hold on you becomes firm, and he stands up in one, smooth movement, your body barely shifting against him as he marches you up the stairs.

“Ben-“

“I was goddamn serious earlier,” he grunts your name, glancing down at you with a smirk. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you cum. You’re always fucking beautiful, but when you cum you’re a fucking wonder of the world. And I want to watch.”

“You, um,” you clear your throat, trying to ignore the rush of smug satisfaction blurring in with Ben’s hunger, and how it makes the heat between your legs start to throb. “You always watch me-“

“Not like I’m about to,” he grunts, kicking the door to your room open. “I want to see the whole fucking thing.”

“The whole thing-“

“You’re going to touch yourself,” he mutters, lowering you carefully onto the mattress. “And I’m going to watch. Cum just from fucking watching. Okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, shivering as Ben traces careful fingers over the waistline of your pants. “That’s, yeah. I can do that.”

He huffs a small laugh, and kisses you. Long and deep and rough, his tongue pushing down your throat within a second, sucking on your lips as he lowers you onto your back. “I know you can. You’re so fucking good for me,” he hums your name onto your skin, leaving sloppy kisses over every single part of your face he can reach. “So fucking pretty, fucking perfect. It’s a goddamn threat to my health, how much I fucking love you. Ready?”

Your nod is frantic, and just as you start to grind up into him, Ben draws back up to his full height, and pulls his shirt over his head. You might be drooling a little bit, but you have the right to. Ben’s huge, and muscular, and his hair is already messy, his whole body already covered in sweat he hadn’t bothered to wash off—he probably knew the benefit of keeping it, based only on the cocky glint in his eyes as you take him in—and you want to touch him. This man is yours. He’s everything, he loves you, and every part of him is for you. His defined chest and abdomen you want to trail your fingers over, his handsome, stupid face you want kiss, his soft hair you want to tug at and his big, calloused fingers you want him to push inside of you, or tease you, or stick in your fucking mouth-

“Words, my love,” he growls, and you can’t manage to drag your eyes back up to his, away from where he’s pulling off his sweats, and boxers and-

“Ready,” you’re definitely drooling, in at least two places. He’s already hard, his cock standing at attention, and massive, and thick, and you need him. “Please-“

Ben pushes you lightly back down as you try to sit up on your elbows, reaching for him. “Whole point of this is we don’t fucking touch, Sunshine. Think you’re going to live?”

He’s teasing you, but you might not. Ben’s started to stroke himself slowly, his eyes blown out with lust, and you’re not even undressed. Every nerve of your body is wired and electric, howling for you to just jump on him, let him relieve the pounding need between your legs, ram into you until you’re dizzy and the world is just a haze of Ben. He might be a drug, because you’ve never chased someone like this. You’ve never felt so hopelessly desperate for Ben to just fucking touch you, just a feather-like brush of his skin over yours, anything-

“Clothing off,” he grunts your name, and you start to move before you even fully register his words. You don’t think you’ve ever undressed so fast—rolling around the mattress as you tug off your pants and underwear, unclipping your bra and squirm to tug your shit over your head—and you can feel Ben’s eyes on you the whole time. Hear the small grunt leave his mouth as you fall fully back onto the sheets, entirely naked before him.

Look at me.

Your gaze drags back up to his eyes, your hips almost buck off the bed at the full sight of him. He looks starved, borderline animalistic. He’s still moving his hand so slowly over his cock, the head dripping with pre-cum, and his jaw clenches as your legs tangle in the sheets, squirming around them to try and chance some sort of relief. Your mouth is hanging open, your whole face already slack, and you can’t tear your gaze away from him. It’s like he’s locked you in place, and you can’t do anything but roll your hips on the mattress for friction.

Ben-

Touch that perfect pussy of yours, darling. Make yourself fucking cum.

Your hand shoots between your legs, moving over your clit in fast, tight movements, and you whimper as his nostrils flare.

Legs open. Let me see you.

A low groan leaves him as you spread your legs, his hand starting to beat against his cock in an unrelenting pace.

“Please-“

“Have to give it to yourself, Sunshine,” he grunts, every muscle of his chest flexing, and you start to grind onto your own hand. “Christ, you’re so fucking good, I can fucking smell how wet you are, hear your fucking heartbeat, so fucking perfect-“

You moan, your free hand moving up to pinch at your nipple. “Keep, fuck,” you throw your head back, trying to keep your eyes on him as your back arches off the mattress. “Keep talking, Ben, please-“

“You like me talking to you? Like when I tell you how fucking hard you make me, how fucking hot you are, how you drive me goddamn crazy with how fucking perfect you are, how all I ever think about is you?”

“God, yes-“

“I don’t know how I ever fucking lived with without you,” He growls your name, and your movements against your pussy grow rapid, three of your fingers pressing down and rubbing back and forth in a blur. “Everything you goddamn do makes me hard, because you’re so fucking good and hot and fuck-“ He takes a ragged breath, and you palm at your breast, spreading your legs until your thighs ache. “You’re my whole fucking world, darling, your fucking voice gets me going, turns me on when you hit me, when you walk, when you fucking smile and laugh, and I’ve never-“

“Please,” you cut over him, your toes curling in the mattress. “I, Ben, need to-“

“It’s damn killing me not to touch you, beautiful, but fucking Christ, you have no idea what you do to me-“ He cuts himself of with a groan, his free hand curling into a fist at his side. “Need you to fucking cum for me, need to see you fucking cum-“

“Ben-“ His hips buck against his fist, and you whine. “Ben, please-“

“Cum, Sunshine-“

Your orgasm rips through your body, every part of you wracked with a high and blissful heat, a high, desperate moan falling out of your mouth as you thrash in the sheets. Your eyes never leave Ben’s, though, trapped by the hunger and love and devotion on his every feature. You’re just coming down when he groans, rutting into his fist, and falls over you as he finds his own release. His kiss is demanding—all teeth and spit and insatiable want—and you whine as he paints your stomach white, your hands tangling his hair as a second orgasm crashes into you. Cresting with Ben’s own until your whole body is loose under him, your breaths in an unsteady, even harmony with his.

Ben gives you one last, almost chaste kiss, and hauls himself off of you, scanning over his handiwork. He runs two fingers through the mess he left on your skin, using his free hand to pin you against the mattress when you squirm under his touch.

“You know what you did that time?” He hums, glancing up at you with a smirk. “You looked like one of those crystal fucking things, with the rainbows-“

“Prism,” you mumble, and his grin grows.

“Of course you know what the fuck I’m talking about.” He shakes his head, and you feel the glow inside him wrap around every inch of his body, running through his blood and over his skin. “Too fucking smart for your own good, Sunshine. Too fucking smart and perfect. You looked exactly like a goddamn prism, full of fucking light and color. So fucking beautiful, my love, drive me out of my goddamn mind.” He brings his fingers up to your mouth, raising a brow. “Taste.”

You don’t need to be told twice. Your jaw drops open, and when Ben presses his broad fingers onto your tongue, you close your lips around him and suck. Scraping with teeth, swirling your tongue over the pads of his fingers, drinking his cum like it could possibly quench the undying thirst and desire for every single part of Ben, as close to you as he can possibly bring them.

“Good girl,” he grunts, pulling his fingers away and hauling you up to his chest, kissing the top of your head. “Fucking love you, Sunshine. More than anything.”

You smile at him, all of your blood still trading between your bodies as you crane your neck up to kiss him once, mumbling against his lips, “I love you too, Benjamin. We should shower-“

Ben’s arms drop below your thighs, and he cuts you off with another, slower kiss as he stands, carrying you to the bathroom without ever pulling his lips away.

In the end—despite Ben’s attempt at timely sex—you’re still late to meet Hughie and Kimiko for Red River. You’re in the shower for about two whole minutes before your chest is pinned to the tile walls, and you become lightheaded from both the steam and the way Ben is pounding into you, his hand mimicking your own previous movements on your clit until your legs give out as you cum. You can feel yourself squirt that time, but you’ll never tell Ben because it gets washed away in the water without him seeing. From there you take about forty five minutes to get dressed—you tell Ben he can’t wear his supe suit, and immediately distract him by jerking him off, which somehow inevitably leads to him fingering you—and when you’ve convinced him to leave the shield and just please follow you to the elevator, a gun in his pants and your sunglasses on your brow, you’re fifteen minutes past the agreed upon time.

Fortunately, Hughie and Kimiko are a lot more forgiving of your habit for taking schedules as a suggestion rather than a strict guideline than MM or Butcher. Your apologies are meet with a nervous shrug and two thumbs up, and by the time you’re in the backseat of Butcher’s car—leaning into Ben’s side as Kimiko takes shotgun and Hughie drives—you’re pretty sure MM might have accounted for your chronic tardiness when he’d told you when to leave, because you’re only going to be five minutes late.

Ben?

He grunts, tugging you a little further into his side, squeezing your shoulder in a silent instruction to continue.

What if it is a kid.

Then we’ll deal with it-

How, though. If it’s a kid, we can’t give it to Edgar. But you can’t stay in his debt-

Ben’s hand cups your chin, and he carefully guides you to meet his eyes. We’ll fucking deal with it. I can take of the Edgar shit, we’re not hurting a kid.

What if it’s a baby. We can’t keep a baby in the compound-

It won’t be a baby, Sunshine. Edgar said he’s been keeping it there for a while-

Maybe the V made it into a permanent baby. A permababy, Ben, I don’t know how to take care of a permababy-

What’s wrong.

Nothing’s wrong-

Ben mutters your name in the hum of the engine, scanning over your face. Something’s wrong. You’re freaking the fuck out, for no goddamn reason. You don’t even think it’s going to be a kid, let alone a fucking baby-

But it could be-

It’s not going to be a fucking baby. What’s wrong.

You take a deep breath, holding onto his wrist and letting the stone resolve and concern steady your thoughts. I’m not freaking out, but I’m nervous. No matter what it is, it’s important. If it’s a weapon, we can’t give that to Edgar either. If it’s documents, what type of fucked up shit is worth hiding at this point? What if it’s just a box, and we can’t open it, so we don’t know? Fuck, Ben, what if it’s just a box-

He leans down, giving you a slow kiss to your lips until your body is relaxed against his, and your breathing is in an even pattern once more. I can break a fucking box, Sunshine. You can break a fucking box. Christ, Kimiko could break a fucking box. We’re going to deal with this, no matter what it is. Together.

But-

No. We’ll deal with it. That’s fucking that. Ben kisses your brow, tugging you onto his lap, your back pressed to his chest and his arms wrapped over your middle. If it’s a box, I’ll break it. If it’s documents, you’ll figure them out. If it’s a kid, we’ll deal with it together. I’ve fucking got you, darling. You burn, I burn.

You burn, I burn. You sigh, taking one of his hands between yours, turning it over in your fingers like you can find some sort of way out this, written on his knuckles or palms. Thank you.

Don’t. He squeezes your waist, guiding your hand—tangled in his—up to press a kiss on the back of it. I love you.

You smile, and Ben’s love wraps over your skin, keeping the world clear and safe in the smell of pine, the warmth of Ben’s body and devotion. I love you too.

“Hey, um,” Hughie coughs your name from the front seat, glancing back at you in the rearview mirror. “I know Annie didn’t know anything about the Cornucopia, but she said you were going to try and talk to A-Train-“

“He didn’t know anything either. I think,” your fingers start to tap against Ben’s arm as you frown at the passing road. “It might be a good idea for someone to stay in the car. In case it’s something that’s… not great.”

Kimiko raises her hand, offering you a smile when you glance at her and signing, I can. Hughie’s been here before, and Soldier Boy won’t want to be separated from you.

You frown, signing back, Frenchie says you can’t drive.

I can drive, she shrugs, twisting in her seat to fully face you. Just not legally.

At this point, you’re past legality. Ben has to go in, you have to go in with him, and it’s probably smarter to bring Hughie than Kimiko, if only because Hughie has the best customer service persona out of all four of you.

Okay, you give Kimiko a small nod, before looking back to Hughie in the rearview. “Kimiko can stay in the car. You, Ben, and I will go in, get the Cornucopia, and get out.”

“Can Kimiko,” Hughie pauses, glancing at Kimiko with a weary frown. “Can you drive?”

I’m pretty sure, yeah. Gas, break, horn, headlights. I’ll get it.

“She says yeah,” you translate, deciding it’s not worth giving Hughie an anxiety attack. If things go south, Kimiko will be able to get you away from Red River, and probably do it fast. Things like the fact that she pointed at the wipers lever for the headlights aren’t that important. Sunset isn’t for a little while, and if it starts to rain, you’ll be set, so you let it go. “How much longer until we’re there?”

Hughie glances at his phone, propped in a cup holder. “Ten minutes.”

Kimiko gives you an eye roll. It would be five, but Hughie drives like a blind old lady. She gives him a glare. We already commit so many crimes, what’s speeding to murder?

You snort. I’m just happy it’s not Butcher. He has nothing to lose and he drives like we don’t either.

Does he, Kimiko points to Ben, and his arms tense slightly around you. Drive like an old person?

I don’t know, actually. The only time I was in a car while he was driving, I passed out. You glance up at Ben’s stoic, too passive face, giving him a soft smile as you continue to sign to Kimiko. He does a lot of things like an old person though. He won’t admit it, but I think our electric AC is confusing him. He always makes me change it for him.

He’s like a hundred, right? I’m impressed that he can use a phone.

Hundred and six. You look back to Kimiko, pulling your lower lip between your teeth. I know it’s weird, I try to ignore it.

Why, because you’re, Kimiko’s hands still, and she looks between you and Ben with a confused expression. Dating? You’re dating him?

Yeah. I mean, yeah to the weird. I think to the we’re dating. You shake your head, trying to physically clear your thoughts. Ben said we were, to Neuman, but we haven’t really talked about it.

You should talk to him about that. Annie told me talking about relationships is good. And I don’t think it’s that weird.

Really? You tilt your head at her, signing slowly. I mean. He’s a dinosaur. I love him more than life and he’s a grumpy old dinosaur.

Kimiko gives you a toothless, almost apathetic smile. Would you rather he date an eighty year old, break her hip during sex, and there is only a twenty year gap? At least this way you’re both happy.

I guess. You look down to Ben’s arms, a smile tugging at your lips when you realize he’s started to draw patterns over the skin of your stomach, and you’re not sure he even knows he’s doing it. He does make me happy. You sign, looking back up at Kimiko. And I think I make him happy.

You do make him happy. He’s an asshole, but he’s sort of okay now. He did call Frenchie a cowardly cigar pussy when Frenchie tried to take the ice cream in the freezer, but then he told us about MM’s donut stash.

Was it the malt vanilla? That Frenchie tried to take?

I think so.

You feel a rush of affection for Ben, and know the smile on your face is downright pathetic when you sign back to Kimiko. He loves that shit. Old fucking man.

You love him a lot.

You blink at Kimiko’s blunt phrasing, and forgo your many internally rehearsed speeches about why you love Ben. How he’s the best thing that ever happened to you, and you trust him with anything, and every time he shuffles up to you, grumbling about how it’s really fucking hot, Sunshine. Why is it so fucking hot, it should never be this goddamn hot inside. Go hit the stupid buttons so I don’t leave a fucking sweat-stain on the couch, you love him a little more. Instead, you sign, yeah. He’s, he’s good. And he cares about me, a lot.

We all care about you, Kimiko gives you an amused look, pointing at Ben. He’s like a puppy. Or one of those airport dog videos MM loves. It’s good. You smile a lot now.

You do. It only hits you right then, how your lips and cheeks are almost always pulling in a wide, toothy, real and full smile. And not only for Ben—mostly for Ben—but for your friends. It’s easier to smile at them now, because you’d smiled at Ben and he’d returned it. It’s easier to do a lot of things now. For every item and experience that will always have a Homelander shaped shadow casting over it, there are two that will always be washed in a warm light that smells like pine and tastes like coffee and vanilla.

Thank you, your signing to Kimiko is cautious, careful. For giving him a chance. I know he’s not easy-

Kimiko shakes her head, and your hands freeze as she responds. He’s easier than before. With you. You’re both easier with each other, it’s obvious to us. She makes a quick gesture between herself and Hughie. Even if it’s not obvious to everyone else.

Mallory?

Yeah. Kimiko’s brow draws into a glare, and you know it’s not directed at you. She’s a bitch.

Yeah, you grin. Was she always a bitch? Or do I just bring that out in her?

I think she’s getting sick of us making messes. Kimiko’s glower deepens. I’d like to see her try to clean up blown up dick and follow the FBSA’s guidelines-

Kimiko’s gestures are cut off as the car slams to a halt, Hughie flinching and looking back at you and Ben with wide eyes.

“Sorry, the breaks are, uh, touchy. We’re here.”

It’s almost immediate to you—as Ben helps you out of the car and your eyes adjust to the sunlight—how painfully similar Red River looks to a prison. There’s no guard tower, but the large, brick building is blocked by a high, chain-link fence with barbed wire, and there are surveillance cameras on slow swivels, covering almost every bit of dirt and pavement.

Fuck, there are surveillance cameras-

Several loud bangs cut through the air, followed by a yelp from Hughie and a huff from Ben as he tucks his gun back into his pants.

“Shit!” Hughie shakes his head, gaping at Ben with an almost fearful indigence. “What the fuck was that, dude! We can’t just fire guns on private property-“

Hughie’s words falter as Ben shoots him a bored glare. “You should be damn thanking me, you dumb cockfuck.” Ben points up to the sizzling, cracked cameras, wires still slightly sparking. “We need to move, now.”

Hughie glances at you, and when you give him a small nod he returns it—giving Ben one last, anxious look—and leans into the window to hand Kimiko the keys.

Benjamin. You slap his arm over your shoulders, looking up at him with a dry expression. What did I say about being subtle-

We can’t have cameras see us, Sunshine, you fucking know that-

I do, you cross your arms, holding his glare with mostly just exasperation. Which is why I’m not mad. But there was probably a better way to do that, and now we’re on a timer. So please be careful. No yelling at the workers if they piss you off, no murdering people who piss you off, no inflicting any sort of disabling harm on people who piss you off-

Ben catches your hand—raised up to count each item on your list—and squeezes it once, grumbling your name in the breeze of the wind. I’ll follow your lead. But if I think there’s any sort of fucking danger-

You take over, I know. You bump his shoulder with yours, offering a small, light smile. I trust you. No calling any children pussies or dumb fucking cockheads.

I would never. He grins at you, a look of faux indigence painted over his handsome features, and your smile grows wider—more authentic—as his amusement runs through your blood and muscle. That shit doesn’t sound like me in the goddamn slightest. I’m a fucking gentleman, my love, you know that-

You reach a hand up to tangle in the back of Ben’s hair, pulling him down into an easy, gentle kiss, teasing your tongue over his lips and letting a content sigh when he hums against you. I love you, Benjamin. And you can be a gentleman, when you want to be, but you also called Frenchie a cowardly cigar pussy. So forgive me for making sure no children get told their legos look like fucking dogshit.

Ben chuckles, tugging you a little closer as he deepens the kiss. That what you and Kimiko were talking about? How Frenchie is a fucking whining pussy ice cream thief.

Maybe. Maybe we also talked about how you told Frenchie about MM’s donut stash. You’re going soft, Pretty Boy-

I am not going fucking soft. Ben bites your lower lip, smirking at the small, breathless moan he draws out of you. Ryan was there, and you’re always trying to teach him about that fucking kindess shit-

You pull back, giving him an amused look. Kindness would’ve been sharing the ice cream, dumb dumb.

Ben rolls his eyes. I don’t share my ice cream, it’s fucking mine-

You share with me.

That’s not the same. I love you.

It's such a simple sentence, and he’s said it so many times, but it’s yet to stop your body from filling with a bright, natural light. Ben says I love you like it’s obvious, and everything becomes a little sharper, all your thoughts a littler loud and cleaner in your head, no longer stained with blood or a muck of fear. You lean your head onto his shoulder and watch as Hughie and Kimiko finish their slightly disjointed exchange about the car.

I love you too, Benjamin. Should I go help them-

You cut your own thought off in Ben’s head as Hughie stands back up, turning at you and Ben. “Kimiko’s all set, so I guess we’re up.”

When you look around the street, it’s almost deserted. You’ve parked on the curb, and there are a few, empty cars up and down the block, but you’re the only people in sight.

“Do we just” you nod to the gate, glancing at the barbed wire. “Jump it?”

Ben’s immediately on board with your plan—nodding and starting to back you both up a few paces—while Hughie goes pale, shaking his head and moving to try and block your path.

“There’s a doorbell!” He half-shouts, arms reached out, glancing over his shoulder to the wire. “We don’t need to jump anything-”

“No,” you tug yourself away from Ben’s hold, scanning over the wired fence. “If we ring the doorbell, they’ll ask who we are. We’d have to lie, and they’d try to check the cams, and we’d be fucked. There might be a back entrance, but we don’t have the time to look for one.”

Hughie watches you with an uneasy gaze, looking between your frown and your fingers, flexing as you approach the gate. He mumbles your name, scratching the back of his neck. “I know you guys are immortal, but I’m really not, and I really like life-“

His words trail off as you press your hands—palms up and fingers spread—to the wires, and they start to sizzle and melt away, moving over the metal until you’ve created a large hole that will fit you all easily, and pulling away without smoke or any exploding buildings.

You look back to Ben with a grin, and he winks at you.

This is why you should fucking listen to me, Sunshine, I taught you how to do that-

You wrinkle your nose at him, still smiling. You stood behind me and made grumpy faces, I did this myself.

And I helped, brat.

Something bright and almost elated is rising in Ben’s chest, swelling across his muscles as he gives you a wide, toothy smile, and you give in easily. He did help, and you want him to keep making that joyful, content face.

Fine, cunt. You’re an excellent teacher.

Damn right I am-

Hughie coughs, hovering at your side as he examines the fence. “Sorry, I know you guys were, uh,” he trails off, mouth twitching as he gives you a confused look. “I don’t know what we’re supposed to call it.”

You give him a shrug, dropping your voice to a fake whisper. “We haven’t come up with a name for it yet, someone keeps vetoing all my amazing ideas-“

“You’ve tried to get me to call it the fucking Ben’o’phone,” Ben drawls your name, suddenly right behind you, causing you to smile up at him and Hughie to flinch. “I’ll goddamn eat glass and suck Hughie’s dick before I call it that.”

“You don’t, uh, you don’t have to do either of those things-“

“Well, until you start pitching ideas, I’ll call it whatever the fuck I want.” You stick your tongue out at Ben before turning back to a still-blushing Hughie. “We should move, though, can we talk on the way?”

“Oh, um, yeah.” Hughie watches you start to climb through the fence, Ben following, before ducking after himself. “I just want to go over the plan before we go in-“

“Get in,” Ben grunts, wrapping his hand in yours, a concrete, firm and unmoving care and concern settling in your body. “Find Vanessa. Get the Cornucopia. Get out.”

“Vanessa?”

“Edgar said to ask for her.” You examine the building as you approach, raising your voice to carry on the wind to Hughie. “We’ll have to find her though, we can’t exactly just walk in the door without some recognizing Ben and I. Hopefully she has an office, or they wear name tags-“

“I’ve met Vanessa,” Hughie interrupts you, and you turn back to see him stopped a few feet from you and Ben, frowning as he thinks. “Last time I was here. I think, maybe-“

“Hughie,” you tap your fingers on Ben’s arm, letting him keep a vigilant eye on the sky and yard as you hold Hughie’s nervous gaze. “On a scale of one to ten, how sure are you that you know Vanessa.”

“Maybe eight?”

You’ll take those odds. “Will you recognize her?”

“I’m pretty sure, yeah.”

“Awesome. You’ll lead.” You turn away from Hughie’s nervous nod, tugging slightly on Ben’s arm until he frowns down at you. “Can you throw me up there?”

Ben looks to where you’ve pointed—a window ledge two stories up, the blinds open and the room empty—and back down to you with tense glare. “Why.”

“I’m going to melt the glass, you’re going to throw Hughie up, and then jump up yourself.”

“Why do we always have to throw me up,” Hughie’s voice is higher than usual, his eyes on your slightly pleading. “Can’t we just use one of the windows in front of us to trespass?”

“Suck it up, kid, if she says I’m throwing you, you’re getting fucking thrown-“

You raise your hand up, and Ben falls silent with a grumbling protest and glower you can feel in your stomach. “Hughie, we can’t go in on the first floor, we can’t tell if any of these rooms are empty-“

“There are the basement windows,” Hughie gestures past your feet, and you turn to see the ground-level half-windows. No blinds, each room inside empty. “You can fit through that, then let us in-“

“No.” Ben snaps, shooting Hughie a glare that makes him flinch, arm tightening around you. “There’re not a fucking chance you’re going in there alone-“

“Ben,” you squeeze his hand, glancing back at Hughie’s pallid features. “It’s a good idea, and I can handle myself-“

It is not a fucking good idea. What if things go south while you’re inside and I’m goddamn stuck out here. What if you get lost, or someone fucking recognizes you-

I’ll be really careful. You scan his taut, angered face, the mold growing back over his heart and something made of a heavy iron wrapping around his lungs and throat. I promise to be careful. You’ll know where I am the whole time, because we’re like pigeons, and we can talk and check in on the Ben’o’phone. His frown deepens, and you trace over the lines on his face with light fingers. If things go south, you can smash right through the front door, and we’ll find each other. I’ll be okay, just don’t kill Hughie while I’m gone.

His hands move up to hold your face, running his thumb over your lips and cheeks, examining you with that gaze where you think he can see inside you. See all your blood flowing into his, the hum of your fire under your skin—entirely within your control—and every single thought running through your head. Trying to calculate every risk of going in alone, every possible thing that could go wrong and work out how you’ll deal with it, still mulling over what the Cornucopia could be, and always circling back to Ben. How much you love him, and how you won’t be that worried while you’re searching through the halls of Red River, because you’ll feel him somewhere in your orbit and resting in your chest, and know you’re safe.

Whatever Ben sees in you, it makes him relent. He presses a firm, almost tender kiss on the top of your head, and tucks your hair behind your ear as he gives you a short nod. Be fast, and stay alert. If you hear anyone, fucking hide, and if there’s a single goddamn threat remember to keep your weight even when you throw the punch-

I won’t punch, you rest your brow against his. I’ll burn. Someone really grumpy and mean taught me how to control it, but he’s really handsome. I like it when he’s grumpy, it makes me love him a lot.

Brat. His words in your head are low and gruff, but the thing around this throat has loosened, and the mold has started to wane, replaced by the small, soft glow, pulsing between your bodies. I love you. Ben stands back to his full height, glancing to the side at Hughie, shifting awkwardly on his feet as he waits. “While she’s gone, you listen to me. If I tell you to fight, you fight, if I say shoot, open fucking fire, and if I-“

“I didn’t bring a gun-“

“Why the fuck didn’t you bring a gun, are you going to fucking talk your way through the damn bullets-“

You deal a swift kick to Ben’s shin. “Hughie, if you need to run, run. Ben and I will be fine, and you’re actually, you know. Killable. Ben can steal us a car, and we’ll meet you at home. But that’s if worst comes to worst, and it won’t.”

It won’t come to the worst. You keep reminding yourself, over and over, that it won’t. It can’t. You won’t let it. Ben won’t let it.

Still, you take a long breath as you crouch down, laying your palms on the glass of the window and letting it melt under your touch. Ben stands over you, blocking you from the view of the sky, and when you look up his jaw is clenched, hands fisted at his side, and you think you can hear the drums. You reach up silently, and Ben drops down on his knees—still hunching over you—and pulls you into a bone crunching hug, running his hand through your hair and holding your face to his neck.

Swear you’ll be safe.

I promise. You lean back, kissing his cheek. I’ll be right back. Don’t kill Hughie.

The moment you drop down—onto a carpeted floor in a room full of random pieces of furniture but no people—you can feel Ben start to strain in your chest. Beating against you, telling you outside. On the grass. This room is so damp and dark and cold, and life is outside.

You push through it. Stuffing your sunglasses in your jacket and pulling the hood of it over your head, you creak the door open, peek out into the hallway, and start to pad down it, looking for stairs. You need to find stairs.

Ben.

His response is instant, stirring at the top of your ribcage. What, are you okay-

I’m fine, I need you to ask Hughie something.

What.

If he saw any stairs, when he was here before. Or passed an elevator.

There’s a few beats of silence, before he said he did.

Where.

I don’t fucking know-

You roll your eyes, checking every door as you make your way down the hall. Ask him, dummy.

Shut the fuck up. There’s a low rumble from Ben’s Thing, a little more quiet, and then, he says near the front door. Not too deep into the building.

There’s a hall branching off, further away from the rooms lining the building’s wall, and you glance behind you with a frown. Can you ask if it was on the side I dropped into?

He said it was.

Okay. Thank you. You start down the new hallway, looking for any sort of exit sign.

Ben’s Thing inside you starts to bounce around, and you think he’s begun to pace. This is fucking stupid, I can fit through that hole-

Do not leave Hughie alone, Ben, I’m fine- Your heart jumps in your chest when you see it, glowing green and mounted high on the wall, and—with a brisk scan of the still deserted hallways—you take off, half sprinting to the stairs. I’m okay, you send down the line before Ben has the chance to freak out and start tearing apart Red River’s brick foundation. Found the stairs.

Good. Are you-

I’m okay. You pause at the base of the steps with a frown. I need you to go around the side of the building. I’ll find an empty room, far from the entrance, and let you in.

Ben grunts in your head, and he fades into a hum that rings through every part of your body, filling up every in-between around you. You start up the stairs—keeping a little bit of your attention on the instinct of home, home is that way, Ben is that way—and push out into a slightly less horror movie-like hallway. It almost looks like a public high school, with white bricks and paneled ceilings. Fluorescent beam lights and fake wooden floors.

You hear voices, and duck back into the stairwell, pressing your back to the wall until they pass. They’re small voices, children’s voices, but—although you can’t make out what they’re saying—they don’t carry the light joy they should.

It hurts something in your stomach, but you don’t have time to dwell on it. When a door slams and you poke your head back out the door—the hall deserted once more—you start to hum. A slow, sad song, trying to let your brain fade into a harmony with the world around you. When all that happens is some flickering lights and a glass-like bending of the hall—everything becoming glossy and almost transparent—you add in words, trying to relax your body, mold your own thoughts, and find that same easy, natural feeling you’d had in the gun range.

When you look down, your hands are gone. So are your legs, and torso, and any visible evidence that you exist.

It’s not foolproof. You’re not actually invisible. Someone could bump into you, or hear you, or you could falter in your song and be completely revealed. But you’re shocked it even worked, and it’s better than just ducking into a room every five feet, so you start to creep down the hallway, keeping your singing to a low, half-mumbled volume.

You can feel Ben, waiting a little bit around the back, and you follow that gravity like tug to him, twisting through hallways with careful, measured, silent steps.

He’s past this door, a few more steps calling you home.

But the room is occupied. You can hear voices, and shuffling movements, so you’ll have to adapt.

You start to walk just one more down—Ben and Hughie have legs, one window over won’t kill them—when the door swings open, and your heart almost stops. You barely manage to keep your song going as you come face to face with a dark haired, middle-aged woman, her eyes worn with bags and staring right through you.

“Hopefully that will help until we get someone to look at the AC,” the woman calls behind her, to a room full of teenagers, sitting in a circle. “I know it’s hot guys, but it’s July. Not much else to do.”

“We could get someone with ice powers in here,” one of the girls mutters, hunched over in his seat. “Or like, wind powers.”

One of the boys nods. “All we have to do is kill their parents, and we’ve all got experience killing parents.”

A few of the kids laugh, and the woman sighs the boy’s name. “You know our rules on darker humor during group sessions-“

“C’mon Vanessa,” a different boy, sat next to the first, crosses his arms, and you freeze in the doorway. “That was fucking hilarious-“

“And you know our rules on swearing. Let’s just keep going, guys-“

The conversation continues, and you’ve found Vanessa, but you’re almost stuck in place. You recognize the look on every single one of the faces in that circle. An expression of exhaustion and almost hollow, numb fury at nothing. A sadness that becomes a disease, becomes a part of you as you start to believe that nothing will—nothing could—get better.

It’s tearing something inside you in half. Something near the broken part of you still twisting and flailing in your gut, that’s still trapped and alone and tired. Clinging onto unfair. This is so unfair, what did you do to possibly deserve this, and why you, why does it have to be you, this is so fucking unfair.

You’ve gotten lucky. You have Ben. You have someone who will always pick you up and remind you that this is unfair, but you’re okay. Someone to stand by your side and hold you as you crawl back to okay. Really, truly okay, and with enough time, happy. These kids don’t have that, and it’s boiling that thing inside you into a fury. A white-hot, avenging fury of not fucking fair. Not fair of their parents, to shoot them up as babies. Not fair of Vought, to lock them up after the parents paid the price. Not fair of the government to help hide it, no matter what they’re getting in exchange. All of this is so fucking horrible and unjust, and there’s no one person to blame.

There isn’t. You want there to be, it would be so much easier if there was, but Ben’s right. It’s never easy. You can blame Homelander for a lot of it, but most of this predates him. He didn’t open Red River, he’s probably never even thought about this place. You can blame Edgar as well, but he didn’t make compound V, he just mastered its marketing. You could blame Fredrick Vought, but he’s long dead and didn’t create the government that bought V, that sponsored its creation. There’s no one person to blame in the government either. It’s a system, made by countless people, laying it out brick by brick over 200 years. This is so unfair, and you can’t really fix it. This isn’t a wound that will heal easily, it’s something festering deep under every single piece of tissue, wound into the nerves and impossible to pull or carve out. It’s going to take a long, painful time to repair, and it’s still going to be so fucking unfair.

Where are you.

You blink, refocusing on the pound of Ben in your chest. Sorry, the room is full, give me a second-

“It’s so hot,” the first girl is whining, fanning herself dramatically. “The door didn’t do shit-“

“No swearing.” Vanessa gives the girl a tired, empty glare, and shakes her head. “We can open a window, too, get some fresh air. Marie-“

“On it.” One of the teens, a shorter girl with dreads, stands up, chair scraping on the ground, and you stop singing. Stumbling off to the side as you yank on that line between you and Ben. Move. Benjamin you have to move, now, fucking run or hide-

Ben grunts your name, flaring in your chest. What the fuck is happening, what’s wrong-

Someone’s opening the window, they can’t see you or we’ll be fucked-

Ben is still beating inside you, but he’s not talking anymore. He’s probably moving Hughie, it’s probably fine, but you don’t take a full breath until you hear the chair scraping on the floor and feel a breeze flowing into the hall.

Are you-

We’re set. Ben rolls around in your chest—pulling you just a little further down the hall—and his voice is rough and clipped. You’re okay.

I’m okay. You duck into a room, where you can feel Ben past the wall, and lock the door behind you. Don’t move.

You open the blinds, revealing an out of breath Hughie and a scowling Ben, glaring at you through the glass.

You smile at him. Hi.

Hi. He grumbles your name between your heads, keeping his eyes narrowed as his mouth twitches. That was too fucking long.

It was like, ten minutes. You wrinkle your nose at him. I’m going to get rid of the window, step back.

Through the glass, you hear Ben’s snap to Hughie—repeating your words—but he himself stays planted in front of you, watching as the glass melts under your fingers.

You’ve barely finished when he’s barreling forwards, half picking you up off the ground as he holds you, running hands over your body like he’s looking for a newly-formed scar or cut. Your arms wrap around his torso, and you let Ben kiss at your neck, pulling you as close as he can without climbing into your body.

You hear Hughie stumble into the room, and raise a silent finger from one of your hands, resting on Ben’s back. You can feel the mold slowly burning completely out of Ben’s body, and—even though you’re still on a slight timer—you don’t want to disturb it. It’s a little selfish of you—of your love and affection for Ben, and how the feeling of his ache and pain rips your heart in half—but the last time you’d walked away with a promise of coming back, you hadn’t.

So you wait until Ben peels himself away before turning to Hughie, making a silent gesture for him to follow you deeper into the room, away from the window.

“I found Vanessa,” you keep your voice low, just in case the wind carries it to an open window, or someone passes in the hall. “She’s in the room that you just ran from, doing a therapy group or something. We just have to wait until they wrap up, I can keep an eye on it and call you when they’re done.“

“How are you going to keep an eye on it?” Hughie frowns at you, staring very intently at you and not Ben, who’s gone rigid at your side. “If it’s just hiding in a room, I’m sure I can do it-“

“Nope.” You grin, stepping a few paces back, and spreading your arms wide. “Watch this.”

You start to sing—the same song from before—and you it’s worked when a jolt of shock flashes from Ben and Hughie’s mouth falls open.

“Holy shit,” Hughie mutters. “You haven’t always been able to do that, right? I’m not going insane?”

“No, it’s new.” You reappear in their vision as you stop singing, and give Ben a wide, unrestrained smile. You have to eat me out now. You promised.

He snorts, and the ardor and affection you can feel everywhere in him exposed in his chest, climbing up to show in his eyes. Locked onto yours, dilated and full of a powerful awe that makes every nerve in your body start to itch for him. I have to fuck you, as well. He winks. And if you want to add another reward, I think I could live with it.

You flush, forcing yourself to turn back to Hughie. “I got through the building like that. If I just stand in the hallway, I can tell Ben when she’s left the room, and we can talk to her.”

Hughie nods, and you look back to Ben. “I’ll be right outside, open the door and grab me if something happens.”

He grunts an affirmation, and doesn’t try to talk you out of it, but you still cross the room and hold his face between your hands, smiling up at him. I love you. Thank you.

Don’t. His scowl softens slightly as you kiss his jaw, his hands moving up to cover yours. And I love you too. Always fucking love you, even when you’re being a fucking brat.

I think especially when I’m being a fucking brat. You move to kiss his lips, soft and firm, his beard scraping against your skin and so real. Ben and warm and solid and real.

You pull back—giving Ben one last smile—and start to sing again, slipping out into the hall and keeping a careful eye on the still ajar room.

It’s only a handful of minutes before you hear the scraping of chairs, and the various teens start to filter out. A few walk in your direction, and you have to drop your singing to a whisper, but soon they’ve all passed and Vanessa shuffles out, looking down at her phone and swaying slightly in the hallway.

You wait until she begins to walk away—her back facing fully to you, her steps brisk—before you reach out to Ben. Let’s go.

If you weren’t already a little haywire from how much was going on, you’d probably have realized that trying to follow Vanessa to her office with Ben and Hughie wasn’t the best plan. Hughie’s practically skittish—jumping at every distant footstep and echoing slam of a door—and Ben might as well be waving a flag that says we are up to suspicious activity. He’s light on his feet—you’re not sure if it’s his training, or his secret talent for dancing, but he’s amazingly silent—but he’s also massive and incredibly attention grabbing. And it’s not your love for him, clouding your judgment and blowing this out of proportion to a thought of you always see Ben, so everyone else does as well. He’s looking at everything like it’s going to come to life and start stabbing him, he’s taken the lead—he can follow Vanessa’s heartbeat, and she’s moved out of your sight—and is making a face a little like a bloodhound, and is overall very obviously a strange, grown man sneaking around an orphanage.

Ben raises a hand, stopping you and Hughie in your tracks. That’s it. He nods to a closed door, a few steps away. She’s in there. Just her.

Do we just break in?

Yes. Ready.

Hold on. You look over at Hughie, point at the door, and mouth out she’s in there. It takes a few seconds of confused staring, but eventually Hughie nods, and you turn back to Ben. Let’s do this.

Ben raises his leg, fully prepared to kick the door in, but you’re faster. Grabbing Ben’s arm to move him back a step, you place a tentative hand on the door handle and slowly test it.

Unlocked.

You raise three fingers for Ben and Hughie to see, glancing over your shoulder to ensure they’ve gotten the message, and drop them one by one.

Three. Two. One.

You push the door open with full force of your body, and Vanessa barely has time to drop her jaw before Hughie and Ben are running in after you and you’ve slammed the door, locking everyone inside.

Vanessa looks frozen in shock—face slack, eyes wide and filled with terror—and it sends a small pang of guilt up your spine and into your fingers as you jump into action. No risks.

“Hughie, can you check the desk for a panic button? And,” you sigh, tapping your fingers where you’re still holding the door handle. “Take her phone. Just put it in your pocket, we’ll give it back after.”

“Who,” Vanessa’s started to stutter, and you nod for Ben to close the blinds as you move to stand before her desk. “You’re, are you really, you look like-“

“Yeah, I know. I’m the Anomaly, that’s Soldier Boy,” you incline your head to Ben, smiling at the half-pout of his face, and move on to Hughie. “And he’s, well he’s just kind of a guy-“

“Mr. Campbell?” Vanessa's face grows blanched, staring at Hughie and shrinking into her seat as he tucks her phone into his jeans. “I remember you, you’re dating Starlight, and you visited us last year and we never heard back-“

“Yeah, um,” Hughie looks to you for help, and you offer him a grimace and shrug. “Sorry. It didn’t pan out. You know, with the economy.”

You give Hughie a flat look, and he returns it with a sheepish one as you sigh, turning back to Vanessa. “Listen, we’re not here to hurt you. We just need something, and then we’ll be gone. Nobody will even know we were here-“

“Why are you here?!” Vanessa squeaks, and you sigh.

“I’m getting there-“

“He’s,” Vanessa points to Ben. “A terrorist, and you’re missing! Crap, I’m supposed to report any sightings to the tower, it’s mandated, and why are you together, was Starlight telling the truth?!” She turns back to Hughie. “Are they really dating? Is Starlight here, because I’m supposed to report her too-“

“I’m, um, Annie’s not here, and Soldier Boy’s only mean, he’s not really a terrorist anymore, but I’m not sure if they are dating-“

“Hughie,” you raise your brows at him, shaking your head. “Shut up.”

“And I’m not a fucking terrorist,” Ben grumbles, moving to your side. “I got pardoned. And we are dating, you pussy fuck-“

Benjamin-

“Does that mean the other stuff is also true? About Homelander?” Vanessa’s looking at you with wide eyes, and you take a shaking breath. The adrenaline is fading, you didn’t miss the mandated reporting thing, and a chill is starting to creep through your blood, blurring the world.

You feel Ben’s foot press to yours, and the world moves back into focus.

Thank you. You meet Vanessa’s eyes—feeling Ben’s arm wrap around your waist, steadying your feet—and set your features into a pleasant, neutral boredom. “It is. But that’s not why we’re here.”

“Why-“

“We’re here for the Cornucopia.” You cross your arms, examining Vanessa’s faint expression. “That’s it.”

“I, um,” Vanessa looks around between you, Hughie, and Ben, shaking her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about-“

“Cut the fucking bullshit-“

You elbow Ben’s stomach, holding Vanessa’s gaze. “We know you do. And I promise we won’t hurt you, but we’re also not leaving this room until you give us what we need.”

We don’t have the time for that, Sunshine, Vought’s probably noticed all their fucking cameras are out-

It’s a bluff, Pretty Boy. You keep your attention on Vanessa, pulling Ben’s arm a little tighter around you. I know we’re on a limit. She doesn’t.

Vanessa’s still silent, shooting the least subtle looks you've ever seen at the door behind you, and you sigh. “Don’t try to make a break for it, please. He’ll,” you jerk your head to Ben. “Catch you. Easily. All we want is the Cornucopia.”

“You don’t understand,” Vanessa whispers, looking over Ben with fearful eyes. “I can’t, nobody’s even supposed to know about that-”

“We were sent by someone who does,” you say carefully, treading around Edgar’s name, unwilling to show all your cards. “And they want it back.”

“Who.”

Of course it’s not that easy. Vanessa doesn’t seem stupid, just afraid. You hold her narrowed glare, and shrug. “Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

You chew on your tongue, unable to find a way around this, and keep your answer measured and short. “Edgar.”

“Why would he send you-“

“Don’t worry about it,” you lean forward, placing two hands on Vanessa’s desk and trying not to let her flinch make your gut twist. “I get that this is confusing, but we both know you don’t want to cross Edgar. Let’s call him our friend for now, think of this as a favor, and start over. Nice to meet you, Vanessa.” You introduce yourself, keeping your hands braced on the table, and nod behind you to Hughie and Ben. “That’s Hughie Campbell. This is Benjamin, and he doesn’t have a last name. We have all day to wait in here for you to come around, and Ben shits like a horse, so I’d just give us what we need so we can all go home and nobody's office becomes a toilet.”

“I,” you can see the uneven rise and fall of Vanessa’s chest as she speaks, her protests growing weaker. “I’m really not, I mean, what will you do with it?”

It. Not a child. Some tension that had been strung through your whole body relaxes as you respond. “Bring it to Edgar. That’s it. I promise.”

Vanessa looks you over one last time, her hands shaking slightly as she stands and moves around the desk. “I, um, he added something to it last year. Before he was arrested. Does he want that too?”

You have no fucking idea. “Yeah, he does.”

“Okay.” As she crouches down to the floor, Vanessa looks up, around your group, and pauses. “Vought doesn’t know you’re here, right?”

You shake your head, and Vanessa starts to pull at a loose wooden panel. Her body is blocking the view of what’s inside, and you can feel Ben’s grip on you start to grow tight as you wait.

When Vanessa rises up, facing you once more, her fists are closed and the panel is closed once more. “If I give you these, I need you to promise you’ll just leave, and you won’t tell anyone about this. I don’t want the kids caught up in anything, and if Homelander finds out-“

“Homelander’s never going to know anything about this.” It’s the easiest promise you’ve ever made. “No matter what.”

Vanessa lets out an unsteady breath, and extends her hands, uncurling her fists.

You blink, taking the items from her hands. A key and a vial of green liquid.

Green liquid. You almost shove the keys into your pockets, turning the vial over to find the label you already know will be there.

Project Anomaly, Trial 5.

“Fuck.” You look up at Vanessa. “When did Edgar give this to you?”

“About a year ago?” She mumbles, fidgeting with her hands. “He said to keep it with the Cornucopia, but that’s it.”

You look up at Ben, who’s watching you with a concerned, stone-like gaze, mirroring the concrete resolve in his body. If the Cornucopia is the keys, why the fuck did Edgar have this-

We’ll deal with it. He squeezes your waist, giving you a short nod. Together. But we have to fucking move, he mutters your name between your heads, holding your gaze. Now.

You nod, tapping your fingers on the V and shoving it in your pocket with the keys. “Thank you,” you give Vanessa a small, toothless smile. “We’re going to break your window, and you can say it was random criminals. They must have shot out the cameras as well.”

Vanessa’s eyes widen. “You shot out the cameras?! Why would you-“

“We aren’t exactly fucking buddies with Vought, lady.” Ben grunts, and you sigh as he pulls you with him to the far side of the room.

“He’s right, we aren’t.” You crack your neck, examining the glass panes. “Also, you’re going to be missing two other windows. One in the basement, one near that classroom you were just in. I’d get them fixed.”

Before Vanessa can freak out about that as well, you lay your hands on the window, and it melts away. You turn to Ben with a grin, and he winks.

You really fucking like that trick. He grabs your still scorching hand in his, kissing your knuckles without a flinch. I could’ve just fucking punched it in.

Two vanished windows and one broken window is a lot more suspicious than three vanished windows, Benjamin. Consistency is key.

We’d be confusing the fuckers-

You shake your head, dropping your sunglasses onto your face as you lean out the window, checking for a clear path. We don’t want them to be confused. We want them to think it was just a weird break-in, that’s it. No extra reason to really investigate. Let’s go.

Ben follows you out the empty window pane without hesitation, and you hear Hughie give Vanessa a few more, stumbling apologies before following himself. It takes a second to orient yourself to the outdoors—to figure out where you’ve ended up in the yard around Red River—but Ben beats you to it, grabbing your hand and pulling you after him, taking large, long steps in a direct path to the hole you’d burned in the gate.

Kimiko is waiting for you, leaning against the car and waving to you before signing, good thing you’re back, I need help.

You frown at her, stepping back through the hole in the fence as you sign, with what?

Something kind of happened, while you were gone. Kimiko gives you an apologetic look as you stop in front of her. Don’t worry though, I handled it.

“What’s she saying,” Ben grunts, leaning over you to glare at Kimiko. “What’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong-“

You cut yourself off as Kimiko shakes her head, signing to you with a sheepish expression. Things are wrong. It’s not good.

“You said you handled it-“

I did. She shrugs, pushing off the car and walking around to the trunk, gesturing for you to follow. It’s better if you see.

You chew on your lips, and don’t bother to shrug Ben off as you move to Kimiko’s side. Wait, you sign to her, looking to where Hughie has frozen on the curb, watching everyone with a bemused expression.

“What’s going on-“

“Kimiko handled something,” Ben snaps, his eyes trained on the trunk. “In the trunk.”

Hughie blinks. “In the trunk? What’s in the trunk-“

“She hasn’t shown us yet,” you cover Ben’s mouth with one hand as he opens it to yell, beckoning Hughie over with the other. “Do we,” you look back to Kimiko. “Should we get ready to fight?”

Kimiko pauses, glancing at the trunk, then signs, No.

“Are you sure?”

Yeah. Ready?

You nod, pulling your hand down from Ben’s mouth and crossing your arms, tapping your fingers against your jacket. “Ready.”

Kimiko pops the trunk, and Hughie stumbles backwards, rubbing his face and pulling at his hair with frantic movements.

“Why the fuck is Ashely in our trunk?” He’s half shouting, and you see Ben—out of the corner of your eyes—shooting him a sharp glare.

“We all fucking see it,” he hisses. “Shut the fuck up before someone goddamn hears you.”

Hughie continues to protest, and you squeeze Ben’s bicep in a silent request for him to handle it. You’re a little preoccupied, your brain moving a mile a minute to adjust for this new, less than ideal development.

Ashley is indeed in your trunk. Completely knocked out, hands tied in a haphazard knot with some rope—you assume Kimiko found it in Butcher’s less-than-secret weapons compartment—and her wig slightly askew.

“Kimiko,” you sign with your words, tearing your eyes away from Ashley and up to her. “What happened.”

I saw her park over there, Kimiko points a little down the block, to a fancy, silver sports car. And start to walk to the gate. We made eye contact, and she tried to run inside, so I jumped her. She’s really weak, it was easy.

“Okay,” you take a heavy breath, looking back to Ashley’s body, double checking for the shallow movements of breath. “Thank you,” you shoot Kimiko a small, tired smile. “I mean, this is a fucking mess, but it’s good she didn’t make it inside, especially if she saw you.”

Kimiko returns your smile, taking your hand and squeezing it, and you feel a rush of her own gratitude, mixed with an almost natural trust. In you. Kimiko really, fully trusts you to deal with this, and it chases away a little bit of the tight, doubting cold in your body. You can fix this. This is something you can fix.

“Ben,” you turn around to where Ben and Hughie are still arguing in half-hushed, half-shouting voices, and they both look up at you with a stare of concern—lined with affection—from the former, and pure, unbridled anxiety from the latter. “I need you to hold the Cornucopia.”

Kimiko’s eyes widen, waving her hands to get your attention before signing, you found it? Is it a bucket?

“No, it’s keys.” You hold them up quickly for her to see, before chucking them at Ben’s face, not bothering to see if he catches them. He always catches them, and you need to talk to Kimiko. “Can you restrain her without knocking her back out? She probably already has a concussion, and we don’t want to give her permanent brain damage.”

Kimiko nods, flexing her arms and moving to stand right at your side, glancing down at Ashley. What are we doing with her?

“I’m working on that,” you taste a tang of blood in your mouth, and realize you’d bitten through your cheek. “But we need to get her tracker out now. Ben?”

You can feel him behind you, and glance back to find him watching you with a clenched jaw, his legs in a wide stance, as if he’s ready to punch anything you point to. He gives you a sharp nod to continue, so you do.

“I need you to listen for when I’ve fried the tracker. Kimiko will keep Ashley down, and if you can make sure nobody sees us-“

“Got it,” Ben grunts, turning around to watch the street, hands fisted at his sides. “Go.”

You swallow, and look back to Ashley, reaching down to touch her arm where the tracker had been in A-Train, feeling only a quiet, empty buzz in her sleeping body. Kimiko’s braced at your side, Hughie’s pacing somewhere behind you, and Ben’s got you. You’re blocked from the view of the sky and street, your blood is cold but all your own, and you can deal with this. You’re not strong enough to fight Homelander, but you can easily deal with Ashley.

It takes a few seconds for the pain to wake her up. You’ve already seared through the first two layers of skin when her eyes shoot open, red and unfocused, and she doesn’t get a chance to make even a strangled sound of panic before Kimiko covers her mouth. From there it’s harder. You can feel every ounce of Ashley’s raw, unbridled fear. It’s all that in her body, and it’s so fucking exhausting and painful and you hate this. When Ben finally nudges your shoulder, muttering fried down your connection, you pull your hand back like you were the one that had been burned, shaking it like you can make Ashley’s mind-numbing fright leave you faster.

Ben, you look over your shoulder, waiting for him to glance back at you before continuing. Can you gag her? I don’t want to knock her out again, but we can’t have her screaming-

Okay. Ben nods—ripping off part of his sleeve without missing a beat—and moves around you to work as you turn to face Hughie. Later, you’ll have to hold Ben’s face between your hands and kiss his whole stupid, handsome, amazing face for letting you take care of this without question. Repeat to him a million times how much you love him, and show him on your knees and under his body and riding him until he groans.

Right now, you’re on borrowed time. There’s still smoke curling from your fingertips, and even though there’s no itch under your skin, your thoughts are moving too fast and there’s bile in your throat. You have to move, right fucking now, and if you pause for even a second you think the cold will take over your bones and blood, and you’ll fall over as a sickening, crippling weight drops onto your shoulders. You’ll fall apart later, and sit in Ben’s warm arms until the cracks stop spreading, beginning to seal once more.

“Hughie,” you turn, and your voice is harsher than you mean it to be, but he’s still panicking and it’s not helping at all. “As far as you know, did anyone but Butcher have access to the safe house cams?”

Hughie’s steps falter as he thinks, his whole body tensed. “No,” his voice is shaking slightly, but raised enough for you to hear it. “He installed them himself, I think. Before you and Soldier Boy even moved in. He might have told Mallory, but only we have the actual software to use them.”

“Okay, good. Kimiko,” you return to the trunk, where Ben is securing Ashley’s gag and Kimiko is holding her down. “I need the keys.”

Kimiko looks between her occupied hands and you, giving you a slight grimace as you realize the problem.

“Fuck, um, I’m going to list off places and you just nod or shake your head, Okay?”

Nod.

“Are they on you?”

Shake.

“In the car?”

Nod.

“On the seat?”

Shake.

“Cup holders?”

Shake.

“Ignition?”

Nod. You barely see the bob of confirmation before you’re moving, reaching into Ben’s pockets and grabbing your phone.

“I’m driving.” You watch Ashley carefully as you recite your plan for Ben and Kimiko, knowing one of them will grab Hughie when everything is set. “Double check the knot on her hands and lock the trunk when you’re done. Ben, I need you in shotgun. Kimiko, maybe find Hughie a paper bag or something, I’m worried he’s going to pass out. Ashley,” she goes still, meeting your eyes with her own glossed in a too familiar, rabid look of fear. “We are not going to hurt you. I had to burn out your tracker, but I fucking swear we won’t hurt you. We’re taking you somewhere safe, to talk, and if you want to leave after, you can. But we have to talk first.”

She nods, a tiny movement you barely catch, and it does almost nothing to sooth the vile, twisting and disgusted feeling in your gut.

But you have to keep moving. You’ve already lingered too long with the cams shot out and the Cornucopia in your possession—whatever the fuck it actually is, because your money’s not on just keys to an empty storage unit—and someone’s going to notice Ashley’s missing soon. You’d rather not be here when they send someone to check her last known location.

When you drop behind the wheel, it occurs to you that you haven’t actually driven a car in four years. After you’d gotten out it had been all walking and buses, nobody ever trusted you enough to drive the van, and Ben had driven that Lexus you’d stolen at the Renegade Room. But it’s like riding a bike. A huge, metal bike that can kill someone. It’ll be intuitive, you’ll be fine.

You’ll be fine.

You don’t enter the safe house address into the GPS, instead opting for the grocery store Mallory had been using for your supplies. You’ll orient yourself from there, and, just for safety, shut down your phone before you arrive.

Ben opens the shotgun door within a minute, and when you glance up you can see Kimiko tugging Hughie off the street from the rearview mirror.

When Ben sits down his hand immediately finds your thigh, kneading on your skin and slowing your heart as his firm, permanent, unshakeable resolve wraps through your body.

You’re okay. He grumbles in the silence, and you are. This is horrible and you feel ill, but you’re dealing with it. And Ben is grounding you, slowing down your brain from every single possible thing that could go wrong, from how many consequences there are going to be for this. You’ll fix this. You can fix this.

According to the GPS, it should take you about 20 minutes to reach the safe house. But Hughie and Kimiko are barely in the backseat before you’re driving, and you’re no better than Butcher. You’re violating countless traffic laws, and the speed limit is really more of a suggestion, and everyone who’s honking at you can shove it up their ass, because they don’t have Vought’s CEO in their trunk, and you’re doing your fucking best. It’s a miracle you don’t get pulled over, but you go just slow enough to not be an outright danger to other drivers, so when you pass the grocery store—telling Ben to turn off your phone—you’ve made the trip in 11 minutes flat.

It was a silent, tense ride, with Ben keeping his grip tight and solid on your thigh, Kimiko awkwardly patting Hughie on the back as he calms down, and all of you pretending you can’t hear Ashley pushing at the trunk.

You park on the street, yank the keys out of the ignition and drop your head to the steering wheel. You can hear some shuffling around you, and a few, grumbled orders from Ben to Hughie and Kimiko, but there’s a high ringing in your ears and every inch of your body feels cold and vile. The whole ride, when you’d turned the wheel or pressed a button or changed the gear, you could’ve sworn there was blood on your hands. Sticky and red and horrible, horrible blood.

You’re so tired. You’re growing more and more certain that you can’t keep doing this. You don’t feel on the brink of collapse when you’re at home—wrapped in Ben’s arms, laughing with him or your friends, making fun of Butcher and talking to Ryan until looks a little less haunted and a lot more comfortable—but right now you’re so fucking tired. You can still deal with this, but you’re also still weak. Someone strong wouldn’t have crack lining their lungs from the fear. Someone strong would be unwavering, and you’re about to scream and collapse in the car.

Ben tangles his hand in your hair, running it through his fingers as he remains at your side. Always at your side.

Breathe.

I am-

Slowly. Your heart sounds like it’s about to damn pound out of your chest.

You let out a shaking breath, keeping your head down. Maybe that’s just my natural heart rate, you don’t fucking know-

It’s not. Ben’s hand still its movement, something stirring and stuttering in his chest. I’ve gotten yours memorized. It’s too fast right now, so fucking breathe.

You turn your head to the side, and see Ben’s harsh, angered features relax slightly as your eyes meet. I didn’t know that. I thought you could just, I don’t know, hear it.

No. He searches your face, a slight, wired soreness running over his skin. It’s not a big fucking deal-

I have your grunts memorized.

Ben pauses. What.

You give him a small smile, barely a tug of your lips but still genuine. It’s for Ben, so it’s genuine. When you go like this, you mimic one of Ben’s grunts, and his fingers tense on your head, a flash of sharp adoration and amusement pulling something heavy out of his heart. It means you agree with me, but you’re too much of a bitch to admit it. This one, you make another grunt. Means you agree with me, but you’re too grumpy to just use words. This one means you’re about to wake up, this one means you’re listening to me, and this one means you’re listening to someone you don’t respect. This one, you make one last grunt, your smile widening. Is my favorite. It means you’re about to cum, or tell me you love me at a very inopportune moment.

Ben makes that exact grunt, and his hands resume their movements on your head as something vast and easy settles in his body. I do fucking love you. That’s why I have your damn heartbeat memorized.

I know. I love you too, Benjamin.

He’s everything, and nothing you’ve ever said has been more true. Ben is still pulling you apart under his gaze, making the whole world safe and your breathing steady, and you love him. He’s igniting a warmth that spreads through your chest and burns away every thought of can’t fix this, what if you can’t fix this, what if you’re weak and you can’t fix this from where they’d been festering in your gut and mind, and you love him.

When he asks, Better? down your connection, you are. Because he’s here, and you’ll deal with this together, and you love him.

Better. You sigh, pressing your head further onto the leather of the whee, holding his gazel. I hate this, Ben. I really fucking hate this.

I know, he mutters your name in your head, and there’s something holy about the way he says it, that makes you feel just a little stronger. We’re going to figure it out. Fucking swear it.

I kidnapped someone. A small whimper leaves your throat, and something gets caught in its wake. I kidnapped Ashley, I hurt her-

No. Ben’s brow draws into a glare, and there’s a spark of wrath in him that doesn’t drive into you, but wraps over you. Like a barrier, trying to keep you safe. Don’t fucking do that. You didn’t kidnap Ashley. She’s got a direct damn line to Homelander, she knew we were at Red River, and she’s not fucking innocent in this shit. You thought real fucking fast, saved everyone’s damn ass, and we’re going to fix this. You think he can see the doubt and anxiety painted across your face, because he continues. Hughie and Kimiko are getting her inside, you’re going to fucking talk to her or whatever, and then she’ll be free. It’s not kidnapping if you set her free.

You give him a flat look. I don’t think that’s true.

No. It’s a fucking hostage-

Hostages are for negotiation, we’re not negotiating for anything.

Yet, Sunshine. He winks. Night’s still real fucking young.

You might cry. A soft laugh pushes out of your lips, and your thoughts are clear and focused—get Ashley inside, figure out why she was at Red River, convince her to not tell Homelander or Sage about any of this and adapt to whatever comes up—but you’re still going to cry. You’re tired, and Ben is so warm, and you want to climb into his lap and stay there for a while. Maybe forever.

But you have work to do. You can’t cry these tears—born from a confusing storm of love for Ben and exhaustion and unfair—now, but you’ll cry them later. When it’s only you and Ben in the whole world—on your bed, a lamp light casting his handsome face in a soft, golden glow—you’ll climb onto his chest and wait until his warmth seals a few more cracks, and you’re a little less tired.

Ben sees the determination set onto your face, and presses a kiss to your brow before climbing out of the car, moving around to your side and helping you onto the street. Ready?

Ready. You nod, and glance up the driveway to see Kimiko holding Ashley over her shoulders like a sack of potatoes, and Hughie’s back to you with a hand hovering over the code-pad.

“We need to get inside-“

Hughie cuts you off as you approach, turning around with a sheepish expression. “I, um, I can’t remember the passcode-“

“Christ on a Cross,” Ben jerks his head for Hughie to move, stomping up to the keypad and jabbing the numbers in with his thumb and low grumbles of, “fucking mouse-brained pussy.”

Hughie blinks, shooting you a look of confusion. “Has he, um, always known the code-“

“Yes,” Ben snaps, stepping back to your side as the door unlocks and glowering at Hughie. “You idiots are goddamn terrible at your jobs, I figured that shit out before two months in this place.”

Hughie opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but then shakes his head and closes it.

“We should, uh,” you glance at Kimiko, barely affected by any of Ashley’s weak thrashing. “It’s not smart to stay outside.”

Kimiko nods, hauling Ashley through the door with everyone else following behind, and you’ve barely closed the door when Neuman’s in the hallway, gaping at the scene before her.

“What the fuck are you guys doing-“

“We need to use your office,” your voice is apathetic, filled with measured boredom. You don’t have time for Neuman to argue, or the energy to dance in circles about why here and what the hell is wrong with you idiots, so you only offer Neuman a semi-apologetic face as you continue. “Sorry.”

“Does Mallory-“

“No. Don’t tell her.”

“Hughie,” Nueman turns to Hughie, who flinches. “What the hell is happening? Why are you guys always up to something insane-“

“Ashley showed up at Red River,” he mumbles. “And saw us. We’re, um,” Hughie glances at you. “I’m not actually sure what we’re doing-“

“We have questions for her,” you supply, holding Neuman’s irritated gaze. “This place is safe.”

Something strange that you can’t read flashes in Neuman’s eyes, and she gives you a clipped nod. “Fine. Don’t get blood anywhere-“

“There won’t be any blood.” You nod for Kimiko to carry a slightly more struggling Ashley up the stairs as you speak, and with a shrug to Neuman, she does. “Thanks.”

“I want to sit in on this,” Neuman snaps. “I don’t-“

“Okay.” You shrug, and Neuman blinks.

“That’s it? I can? You’re not going to try and stop me-“

“I’ve got a lot to deal with, Neuman.” You link your arm through Ben’s—standing over you, letting you deal with this while he stares daggers and promises of violence at Neuman—and don’t bother to look at Neuman’s expression as you walk past her, up the stairs. “I’m picking my battles, and I don’t really give a fuck about that one.”

Kimiko had dropped Ashley in a chair—keeping her in her seat with a hand on her shoulder—and you haven’t even fully removed the gag when Ashley starts shouting.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people?! Why did you keep me in the trunk, where did you fucking take me, what the fuck is,” Ashley goes pale as Neuman enters the room, locking the door behind her. “Why the fuck is the ghost of Victoria Neuman here?! Where am I?!”

You take them one at a time, ignoring the what’s wrong with you question, because you simply don’t have the time. “Well, we couldn’t exactly keep you in the backseat, we took you somewhere safe, and Neuman isn’t a ghost, she’s just not as dead as you might have been led to believe.”

“What?!”

“I’m alive,” Neuman makes a sarcastic, sweeping gesture. “Surprise.”

Ashley’s face twitches, and she looks back to you. “You faked her death.”

“Obviously-“

“Fake mine.”

Ashley’s words are firm and assured when she cuts you off, and it makes your own voice falter. You look over to Ben, and even he looks confused. You expect Hughie's shock, Kimiko’s blinking, and Neuman’s slightly open mouth, but Ben never looks confused. He looks annoyed or grumpy or pissed, but never so obviously slack jawed and thrown off. It’s almost disturbing.

Hughie clears his throats, words uncertain. “I, um, we don’t just fake deaths-“

Ashley scoffs, all of her evident fear—or self-preservation—having abandoned her as she says, “Oh, fuck off, Campbell. You fake deaths all the time-“

“No, we don’t-“

“I know about A-Train.”

Hughie’s protests die off, and he looks to you with a hopeless expression.

“Ashley,” you tap your fingers on your leg, keeping your voice steady and neutral. “Why do you want us to fake your death.”

“Because I’d like to make it past forty,” she snaps. “Sage and Homelander are insane, the Deep is an idiot fish-fucker, and I want out. I know A-Train was thinking about leaving, and you helped fake his death. Help me too.”

“No offense, Ashley.” Hughie says, his frown unsure as he fidgets with his hands. “But why should we help you? I mean, you’ve been loyal to Vought forever, and you were just at Red River-”

“I was there to help you guys!” Ashley’s voice fills with desperation, pleading anger. “I got the call that the cams had been blown, checked the last footage, which I deleted before Sage could see, you’re fucking welcome, and realized this was my out!”

“Then why the fuck did you run from Kimiko,” Ben grunts through teeth, and Ashley looks almost offended by the question.

“Because she’s fucking psycho! I mean,” Ashley wiggles in the chair, and Kimiko winces. “She knocked me out and tied me up-“

“She’s not psycho,” you cut Ashley off with a hiss, and Kimiko gives you a grateful, tentative smile. “You’re not trustworthy. We have no reason to trust you-“

A loud, sudden chorus of music and buzzing cut through the air, and Hughie almost dropped his phone as he fumbles it out of his pocket.

“Shit, sorry,” he says your name with a flinch, and turns the screen for you to see. “It’s MM, can I-“

“Yeah,” you gesture your head to the hallway, keeping your attention on Ashley. “Hughie?”

He pauses with his hand on the door. “Yeah?”

“Tell MM we’re still at Red River. I’ll tell him when this is cleaned up, but we don’t need to give him a heart attack.”

Hughie hesitates, glancing at Ashley, and nods. “Yeah, okay. Got it.”

“What do you mean cleaned up,” Ashley squeaks, the door closing behind Hughie. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me-“

“We won’t,” you chew on your cheek, looking over Ashley with a heavy, frustrated sigh. “But we still don’t trust you-“

“You have to trust me, I’m on your side!” Ashley’s eyes on yours are hopeless, her voice growing distraught. “I even, look, I brought you something! It’s in my pocket, I stole it from Sage to prove you can trust me-“

Check her pocket, you sign to Kimiko, saying aloud to Ashley, “What is it.”

“Information! You guys need information, right, you’re really stupid-“

If this wasn’t such a dire situation, you’d have laughed at how Ben and Kimiko have almost identical expressions of indignation, Ben’s hot anger flashing through you and Kimiko looking up at Ashley with a scowl.

“Hot tip, Ashley.” You say, tone dry and gaze flat. “Don’t call the people you’re trying to defect to really stupid. What is it-“

Your words die in your throat as Kimiko rises back up from Ashley’s pocket, holding up a fluffy pink pen.

Neuman huffs in disbelief. “How the hell is that-“

“Shut up,” you snap, and don’t bother to think about Neuman’s shocked expression. “Ashley, where the fuck did you get that.”

“I told you, I stole it from Sage. I recorded one of our meetings, and I got some of Sage’s fucked up plan! It's a peace offering, you have to fucking help me, I’m done, I want out, I promise.“

You don’t trust it. This is an exact type of play Sage would make. Take advantage of you and your team's morality and desperation, give you one reason to trust Ashley and then stab you in the back.

Play it, you sign to Kimiko, who’s eyeing the pen with weary confusion. You have to click it-

Your movements falter as Kimiko follows your instructions, and Sage’s voice fills the room. It’s still cold and crude and almost robotic, and that broken thing in your gut cowers at the sound.

“We’re still waiting on our federal asset to report back, but I have faith they’ll block any of Butcher’s plans for the V. They’re also working on the remaining supplies, I don’t know what Edgar was thinking with that deal, but it should remain a non-issue. Most of them don’t have the cognitive skills to connect any dots that might prove dangerous to us, except,” Sage says your name, and you swallow. “And she’s-“

“She’s missing, Sage,” that’s Homelander’s voice. Annoyed and callous and hateful, making every part of your body shrink into itself. “She’s not working with those fucking idiots, they probably took her again-“

“You saw the tower, and my coma, that was-“

The audio cuts out, and you take a long breath. “Who recorded that.”

“I did,” Ashley’s answer is nervous, but not quick. Not rehearsed. “I stole the pen from Sage, and recorded it. I couldn’t use my phone, they’d have tracked me on it-“

“Homelander thinks I’m still on his side?”

“He fucking lasered one of the writers.” Ashley face contorts in disgust. “When they suggested moving the narrative to you being a heartbreaking slut.”

Ben’s arm shoots out, as if he can feel the slightly dizzying cold climbing up your spine—he probably can—and steadies you on your feet. If Ashley has an opinion on that, her eyes dropping to Ben’s hand resting on your hip, arm around your waist, holding you tight against him as his fingers rub patterns on your skin, she’s smart enough not to say it.

“What’s the federal asset.”

“Sage has a contact or leak or something,” Ashley’s voice is growing eager as she answers you. Still authentic, and you don’t remember her being a great actress. “I don’t know who, but I think it’s in the CIA or another fucking important government place.“

Your hand moves to cover Ben’s, keeping him there—warm and holding you on earth—and tapping your fingers on his knuckles as you continue. “And the Red River deal. What’s that.”

“Red River is funded by the government, I think it was in exchange for their own V supply, but I’m not sure-“

“Fuck,” you hiss, turning to Neuman. “When you were in the White House, did they-“

“They did,” Neuman mutters. “Off-site, not involved with the Pentagon. It was an executive backup, but I don’t know where we got it-“

“It’s from Red River. Ashley’s not lying about that, it’s half-government funded with tax breaks.”

Ashley frowns at you. “That was a big fucking secret, how did you-“ she cuts herself off, eyes narrowing. “A-Train?”

You give a curt nod, giving up on trying to gloss over that question. There are more important things to worry about. You can taste blood again, and you’re too wired to focus on anything but what now. You have to figure out what the fuck to do now.

“So he is alive-“

“Yeah, he’s alive, shut up.”

“I knew it, that piece of shit-“

Ben tugs you closer to his side, shooting Ashley a deadly glower. “She said to shut the fuck up.”

“How long have you wanted out,” your question is slow, tired. You’re tired, and you do want a reason to trust Ashley. You can’t give her to Mallory, she can’t just go back to Vought, and fucking hell you’re going to scream. “Because we can’t just fake your death-“

“You faked A-Train’s death-“

“Well, despite what you think, we aren’t in the business of witness protection. And with that,” you point to the pen. “We can’t give you to the CIA. So what do you think happens here.”

Ashley goes pale. “You keep me safe? And I help you fuck with Vought?”

“We can’t take you with us, Ashley.” You rub your face, trying to push all the tension out of your body. “This is really fucking complicated-“

“She can stay with me.”

You turn to Neuman, and find her face settled with a resolved certainty. “What?”

“I want this whole thing to be over as well, and if keeping Ashley safe will help, I can do that.” Neuman sighs. “Zoe needs to go to a regular school, and I miss coffee shops. Mallory never visits, so that’s not a danger, and you’re right, she,” Neuman jerks her head to Ashley. “Can’t go back to Vought. As long as she promises to not be a bitch, she can stay here.”

“I won’t be a bitch,” Ashley jumps in, words frenzied and expression hopeful. “And I’ll help wherever you need-“

You raise a hand, and Ashley’s words stutter off as you examine her. You shouldn’t trust her. She might still be working with Sage and Homelander, this could so easily be a trap.

But fuck, you’re sick of being vigilant. And Ashley’s fear is still lingering in your throat, and it tastes like grime and leeches off your own terror, making the cracks inside you spread. You’re tired, and you don’t want to be angry and cold and bitter anymore. This might be a trap. It might be smarter to lock Ashley up somewhere, or kill her right here.

You have no interest in being smarter right now. Locking Ashley up is a line you won’t cross, and the thought of killing her makes your hands feel wrong and evil.

“Ashley,” you say, words clear and sharp. “If we leave you here, you listen to Neuman. Her word is your fucking law. Got it?”

“Yes,” Ashley nods, and something relaxes in her face. “Got it. Thank you-“

“Don’t,” you exhale, leaning back into Ben’s body. “Just don’t fuck us.”

“I won’t.”

You want to believe her. More than anything. So you give her a half-smile, and nod to Kimiko to release her.

The door bangs. “Can someone let me in-“

Hughie falls forward as Neuman opens the door, regaining his balance in stumbling steps. His gaze flicks to Ashley—untied and rubbing her wrists—but it doesn’t linger, shooting to you with a wide, anxiety filled expression.

“We, uh, we have to wrap this up-“

“We did, Ashley’s staying here.” You frown. “Hughie, what-“

“Singer wants us all in DC. And we were supposed to leave an hour ago, but MM couldn’t reach you.”

“Fuck, okay. Neuman-“

“I’ll handle it,” she gives you a curt nod, keeping her eyes on Ashley. “Good luck with Singer.”

You should apologize for barging in and dropping Ashley on her without notice, but it feels like an insult. Neuman’s smart, and she knows what she’s doing. So you return the nod, take the pen from Kimiko, and slide your hand into Ben’s as you pull the car keys out of your pocket, tossing them to Hughie.

You turn back to Ashley before you follow Ben out the door, and know you’ve made the right choice. There’s no one to blame for this, and if there was, it wouldn’t be Ashley. She’s just as afraid and tired as you are. You’re starting to think everyone might be just as afraid and tired as you are, and you’re just the only one weak enough to crack and break and show it.

Not weak.

You’re not weak. You fixed this. And Ben’s hand is holding yours, big and warm, with rough fingers holding you in a gentle grasp. There’s still atomic, zealous, focused love in his body, all for you, and it’s so strong. There’s still that mold lining his heart, but it’s being pushed out and replaced by that blooming glow, and you think you’re fueling it. That it’s fertilized by that piece of you that’s alive inside of him, that’s twined into his body and permanent. Weak things aren’t permanent. Weak things don’t grow.

Everyone is tired. This is all fucking unfair and everyone is tired. But Ben’s hand is in yours. Ben loves you, and not every other exhausted, wronged person in the world. He’s staying with you, and never leaving you in the darker spaces that are only cold and hollow.

Not weak. You are not weak. You are not fucking weak. You’re still exhausted, but you’re not fucking weak. There are a hundred more battles to fight in this war, and you’re not faltering. You’re tired, but you’re still fucking fighting, and you’re not fucking weak.

And you’re going to figure this out. With Ben at your side, you’re going to get to the end. Together.

End Note: As we near the third and final act of this story, an extra thank you! I don't think I'll ever fully express how grateful I am for everyone, and the love you've shown this story means everything to me. These two haunt my everyday life, and I'm so happy you guys adore them as well. Thank you so, so much, and I'll see you soon for an all Ben chapter!

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