#please tell me if there are more tags needed for this because i think i will be seeing this in my nightmares tonight

[simpjaes]

✘ WIP DIARY ── LAST NIGHT, I READ YOUR DIARY. (p.sh) ✘

Sunghoon has been trying be everything you need since your mother passed. A father, a friend, a therapist. You never really understood what your mother saw in him in the first place, if you’re being honest. He’s awkward, quiet, and typically used to keep to himself up until now. You’re impressed with his efforts by the time you’re entering into your senior year of college, though his entire demeanor towards you seems to have changed.  or the one where your step-father grows obsessed with you minute by minute. 

── step-dad /weirdo park sunghoon x afab reader  

── minors dni

── tags: sunghoon is in his 30s, reader is in her 20s so, age gap, step-cest, heartbreak, obsession, manipulation, coercion, stockholm syndrome-ish, fluff if he manipulates you as a reader lmfao, angst, smut. don't read this if you are easily triggered. ── side characters: heeseung as reader's ex boyfriend, jay as reader's closest friend

── !WARNINGS!: this work contains non-con, dub-con, and stalking behavior. your mom isn’t alive in this fic. warnings will be updated as i write.

── a/n: this one is gonna be a wild ride, that's all i gotta say.

LAST UPDATED: 12.22.24

⨯ est wordcount: 20k+ ⨯ current wordcount: 5.4k ⨯ est release date: tbd ⨯ taglist: ask to be on my perma tag list!

playlist ⨯ recommended song: last night i read your diary - gürl She's got me down on my knees I beg, I beg, I, I beg, I beg, please! I want it more than I need And I need it like I need to breathe Like I'm losing my- Choke.

PREVIEW (3.1k):

no warnings apply to the preview, it's just the first couple of thousand words for this fic. aka, the intro and the set up for what will inevitably happen later:

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Your first heartbreak is meant to be painful, but this? This is more painful than you could have ever imagined. 

Heeseung was one of your only constants in life. From childhood to high school it’s like he was there more than your own mother was, and certainly more than your own father. Even when she passed, Heeseung was the one who held you through it, he’s the one who made you smile again, he’s the one who made you feel like it was okay to heal and keep going. 

It’s the fact that it was a mutual break up that hurts the most because deep down, you couldn’t see yourself without him. Yet, still, you willingly watched him hop on the plane with a short kiss and long goodbye. It felt so final to you. You could have handled a long distance relationship, truly. But Heeseung didn’t want that. He wanted to explore the world, he wanted to try new things, be with new people. 

Do things without you clinging to him all the time. 

In a way, you understand that. After all, you’re the only girl he had ever been with up until now. Senior year of college. You think you knew your relationship was coming to an end by the time he announced he was going to be studying abroad for his final year without ever once even telling you he was applying to do so. 

So, yeah, it was mutual solely because you want him to be happy and he’s made it clear that he believes that can only happen without you. Such is life. Painful, painful fucking life.  

Just last year when your mother passed, you nearly dropped out and Heeseung had been your rock to make it through class after class with a grade barely high enough to pass. You’re certain some of your professors took pity on you and raised your grade just enough to move forward. You’ll forever thank them for recognizing how hard you were trying. But now? Without your mother, without Heeseung, you’re at a loss.

And there’s a difference between loneliness and isolation, you think. Loneliness to you always hits hard during small spaces in your day, like when you’d get into Heeseung’s car and he would close your door for you. The silence always hurt your ears while he was still making his way around the car to the driver’s seat. A shallow loneliness that you could feel right at the top of your gut, like it was squeezing inside of you and making you lose your appetite. Solely because that silence reminded you of what you always had, a lack of loneliness because of him.

But then there’s isolation. Where it feels forced upon you by other people. Your mother fucking died, Heeseung fucking left, and now you’re just here expected to wake up like you always do, go to class, study hard, sleep well, when the reality of it is– you’re genuinely struggling just to look at yourself in the mirror. 

Then there’s Sunghoon. The only person close enough to you now that you can reach out to. The issue with that is– you’ve never actually been close. And that’s what sucks. The fact that he of all people is all you have now? May as well just assume you have nobody.

His regular calls mean close to nothing to you in the grand scheme of things. Despite him calling twice a week every week since your mother died, your step-father is just as distanced from you as you are him. You’re aware that it’s his obligation, not because he cares. And that hurts, because it’s all you have now. 

Now, you have to try and find meaning in those short calls. After all, Sunghoon fell apart when your mother passed all on his own and you had only called him out of obligation too. You were already in college and stressed, falling apart yourself with someone to love beside you helping you through it. Calling him when it all happened felt empty because you knew both of you were trying to hold it together and save face. 

It wasn’t like this before she died. In fact, he never called and you never cared for him to. You’d see each other when you were home, share awkward pleasantries, and that’s it. It’s hard to believe that now you feel like you need a father, after all those years of practically rejecting him as one. He seemed fine with that after you hit your teen years. He knew by then that he could never be the father you want, but at least he could be the husband your mother needed.

You have grief in common now though. Loneliness. Isolation.

You try not to think about how you were okay up until now though. Having Heeseung to fall back on to soften the blow of your loss, you guess Sunghoon didn’t have that. Maybe his monotone voice and empty words were his way of coping, his way of hearing a voice that wasn’t the one in his own head when he calls you. 

It’s just you and a man you never considered family past the titles and obligatory respects. Finding meaning in his short phone calls does nothing to help your growing isolation, but you cling to them now that Heeseung is gone. You wait for the calls, you ask him to check in with you every day now, to the point Sunghoon starts to notice the difference in you.

No longer rushing to get off the phone. Now, you’re dragging on meaningless conversations. Now, he hears cracks in your voice. 

“You feeling okay?” Sunghoon asks you, in a way that makes you wonder how he’s able to tell that you’re definitely not. The way his own voice has a bit of life to it when he asks it…strange too. Like he’s concerned. 

“No–” You trail off in your meek voice, staring at your ceiling and mind swirling with all of the work you need to get done for classes already. “I’ve only been in classes for a week and I already feel like I’m drowning.” 

Sunghoon sighs into the speaker, contemplating how to further the conversation with you in a way that isn’t too intrusive. After all, who is he to pry? Still, he never intended for you to feel neglected or like you couldn’t come to him. After all, you were too happy about his lack of parenting you throughout his presence in your life. 

He finds solace in the fact that you’ve been accepting him now, though he hasn’t the slightest idea as to why. He’s checked in with you since the passing, but lately it feels to him like something more is going on with you. He may be somewhat estranged, and he may have his own problems to deal with, but you’re still someone he needs to be here for.

Plus, it makes him feel needed again, which is nice considering the circumstances. After living in this bustling house with you and your mom for so long, to it just being him and your mom, to now just him…all that remains now is dread, dissociation, and unwashed dishes in the sink.

“Did something happen?” Sunghoon keeps his questions short, offering more silence if anything for you to use this call as a therapy session if you need. 

You pause for a long moment, realizing that you want to talk about your issues so badly but don’t quite feel the need to share it with him of all people. You’ve already ranted day after day to Jay. To the point you’re sure he’s about one rant away from blocking your number. 

Probably because you’re not that close to him either. Not these days, anyway.

You sigh instead. 

“No…” You trail off. “I think I just miss being home. My dorm mate is never here, class work is already piling up, and I can’t even find the energy to look at the assignments.” 

Sunghoon can tell you’re feeling much like he does and he can’t imagine the weight on your shoulders dealing with these feelings while also in college. But, you have Heeseung, do you not? You’ve been fine for the most part until now, and you haven’t even brought him up. Not once in the past few weeks has his name been uttered by you. Which is strange, after all, the two of you were practically attached at the hip growing up, to the point of choosing the same college, working the same jobs, and even keeping that middle-school puppy love in full swing throughout highschool and college. 

If anything, after your mother passed, Sunghoon felt okay knowing you had Heeseung there with you to help you through it. It meant he could focus on himself and getting through the day-to-day. He could barely handle his own mournful thoughts, let alone the daughter’s feelings of the woman he loved so dearly. He was forever grateful for Heeseung during this time. 

He has his suspicions now though, and his heart aches for the voice he hears from you these days. 

“Why don’t you come home for a while?” He lends a pause to see if you’ll jump for the opportunity before selling the idea to you. “I have the bills here covered and your campus is only a forty minute drive. I’m sure that’s inconvenient but you won’t have bills to worry about on top of everything else.” He doesn’t want to sound too desperate, of course. 

After all, the loneliness he’s feeling is also becoming unbearable. Even if the two of you never were able to see eye to eye, or to form a bond together, you’re all he has left of your mother. He, arguably, is nothing to you, but there’s no one else in this world he’d rather heal the loneliness with outside of you. Only because you knew your mother on a level deeper than he did, and to have someone to share those memories with, or even laugh with, would help him tremendously too.

“I think being at home may do you some good.” 

You think it over in your head, wondering if being home will help you at all. In reality, you know it may make you feel more trapped than you do now. All those memories with your mother, with Heeseung, with all of your friends that have since moved to different colleges. 

But…you wouldn’t be alone. You’d be with someone who knows how to give you space because he’s never even tried to shrink your existence to that of your bedroom and your bedroom alone. You wouldn’t have to worry about rent, food, or anything aside from studies, gas money, and trying to heal from your heartbreak. 

Your dorm is small, you note as you look around the room and wonder how long it would take you to pack your things up. Two hours, give or take. The longest part would be taking all of the little decorations off the wall, if you’re being honest. 

You find yourself nodding before answering, solidifying in your mind that– maybe you’re not the only one who needs company in your space. Not too close, but close enough to not be totally isolated. 

“Okay.” You mutter into the phone, for some reason feeling the tears well up behind your eyes. 

You’re just a bit overwhelmed, that’s all. Knowing you’re going home feels like a relief you didn’t know you needed. 

“Yeah?” Sunghoon confirms. “Just let me know when and I’ll drive up there to help get your stuff back home.” 

You agree, sighing into the phone with a shaking voice. Sunghoon takes note of it, always remembering and quite frankly missing how loud and obnoxious you used to be. Hearing you like this pains him. He wants to help. Now more than ever is his chance to be someone you need, and he hates knowing he feels happy about it. 

Getting to be your father now? It feels awkward, but at least it’s a feeling other than loss. 

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Sunghoon sighs at you through the speaker. “I know I’m not someone you like coming to but–well, I’d like for you to rely on me more, okay?” 

You find a lot of comfort in those words, despite hearing him say them time and time again. This is the first time he’s ever shown that he means it through the offer of bringing you home, rather than just saying it and accepting whatever you say back to him at face value. 

“I know…” You trail off. “I’m okay though, really.” 

Sunghoon hates himself for never forcing you to accept him. Sure, there may have been some teenage defiance towards him, but eventually the two of you could have seen eye to eye. He could have been someone you needed. You could have relied on him too, rather than just Heeseung. That’s all he can really think right now. 

“Are you sure there’s nothing else going on?” The man nearly pleads in his tone, desperate to have someone rely on him again. “I’ve never heard you sound so exhausted before, I can’t help but worry.”

You’d tell him, but honestly, what grown ass man wants to hear about a first heartbreak? It would just get awkward again, he’d just feel obligated to do something about it, and worse, he might end up feeling like he’s supposed to dislike Heeseung now. 

You choose to remain silent in the final straw that broke your back this semester. 

“Really, I’m just tired.” You nod to yourself as you hold your phone loosely against your ear. “I might not go to class tomorrow and just pack instead. I’ll just call you when I’m ready, is that okay?”

Sunghoon smiles to himself, wanting to mean something to you in a way that can hopefully help you out of this slump. Your mother would be throwing a fit if she heard how you’ve been sounding, he can’t help but take over that role and try to make damn sure you are okay. 

“That’s fine,” Sunghoon confirms. “I’ll call and let them know what’s going on so don’t worry about any of that. Just get yourself ready to come back home.” 

You find yourself smiling, relieved that you don’t have to be the one to contact your school and tell them that…well, you’re breaking your student-lease, dropping your food plan, and need to be reimbursed for partial tuition costs since Sunghoon insists every semester that you purchase tuition insurance. You should no longer be charged to live on campus, or for the facilities within the dorm. 

Knowing you’ll at least get back a couple thousand dollars is a nice change of pace, and already you’re feeling weirdly excited to go back to a space that will likely make you miss your mother more. It’ll hurt, but at least you won’t be alone anymore. 

The forty minute drive to campus feels less horrifying now, and maybe your friends will still come and hang out with you in your actual home rather than a tiny dorm. 

“Sounds good.” You say, as if to end the call before you mutter out again. “Thank you, by the way. Sunghoon, really.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Sunghoon knew he was spiraling further and further into his loneliness. He knew it wasn’t healthy either, but now. Oh, now he realizes just how bad it’s gotten as he demonizes himself upon picking you up. 

You haven’t come home since your mother’s funeral, and even on that day he barely remembers what you looked like. Eye contact was never a thing for him, but looking at you now, he sees how much you’ve matured since you went off to college. 

Your once bright, excited eyes have turned dull and empty. The bags under them are heavy from lack of sleep. Your lips appear to be in a permanent state of pouting, though he isn’t sure if you’ve noticed. You appear to have lost weight, which is concerning for him of course, but…there’s something else about you.

Something that sits in the pit of his stomach and rots.

“Uh–” You cough, noting the way Sunghoon looks at you as you try to hand him a large box. “Thank you for helping me move my stuff back…” 

Sunghoon snaps out of his thoughts, grabbing a heavy box and then waiting for you to stack another on top. 

“No big deal,” He mutters, feeling the weight in his hands double as he prepares to carefully carry your things out to his car. “You haven’t come home in over a year, but I’ve fixed up your room for you and went ahead and connected my gaming system in there.”

You nod quietly, feeling awkward for how fatherly he seems.

“Thanks…” You trail off, flopping a pile of your things into his trunk before stopping to look at him. “You look like shit.”

Sunghoon furrows his brows, noticing for a split second how that facial expression you made is very similar to one his wife used to throw at him when he’d have hair out of place, or a wardrobe malfunction. And then he smiles. 

“You’re not looking too good yourself.” He jokes back.

You smile back at him, feeling a bit of the awkward air fizzle away. 

“Well, I’m not doing well, so.” 

You were continuing the joke, but his face falls before yours does. 

“You can talk to me–” He starts.

“I know, I know.” You wave him off. “I’ll feel a lot better once we get back and I can settle in.

There’s a nod from him now, and then silence as the two of you continue to put the rest of your belongings into both his car and your own. 

“Well, I guess I’ll see you in a bit?” You say now, awkwardly.

Sunghoon nods, looking you over once again.

“See you in a bit.” 

   ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Shame.

Pure fucking shame. 

Sunghoon knew he needed another presence in this house but upon seeing you again, he knew it may have been a mistake. 

He likes to think of himself as level headed. He’s never gotten into any trouble, never had a stray thought, never cheated, lied, or stole anything. He can’t think of a single thing that he’s done in life to be considered taboo.  But looking at you feels…incorrect?

Indecent? 

You’re his step-daughter for fuck sake but it’s the fact that you don’t feel like you are. When he looks at you, he just sees another person. He did this to help you, he did this to feel needed, to be your fucking father. 

He did not do this to look at you this way or to feel his eye stray even without his intention.

Why do you look so much like her? Why do you do that thing with your pinky when you carry things like she did? You even have a similar smell, probably having picked up on your mother’s habits throughout childhood. 

You being here…It’s like she’s still here. Except it’s you, and he can’t be thinking this way. 

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

This fic will be dark, very taboo, morally bad. Not a grey area, it is blatantly bad. sunghoon will do bad things. Please be aware of your own triggers once it's completed and posted. remember that I write within my own triggers, not yours. That being said! Please do show lots of love if this is a fic you're interested in reading! If you want to be tagged, I have a permanent tag list, there are not any separate tag lists for individual fics so keep that in mind.  ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

[moonstonejpg]

support

k. bakugo x reader

where bakugo has a crush on a girl in the support course

w.c: 1,707

tags: pure fluff, kiri and denki being the best wingmen in the world, oh also ua is a college not a high school bc i said so

bakugo is my comfort character i love him sm and want to protect him at all costs ♡

If he didn’t know any better, he would think the sudden pounding of his heart meant it was acting up again like it did occasionally after Edgeshot revived him, because Katsuki Bakugo didn’t have crushes. And despite it being a natural part of life, it freaks him out a lot more than he’d care to admit. Because Bakugo has always had the same plan, get into UA College and become a top ranked hero; nowhere in his plan did he account for the girl with a heart of gold in the support course.

“Katsuki!” You call, arms full of some unknown material as you jogged towards him. You had a bright smile on your face, and your eyes were lit up with excitement. He couldn’t help the fond smile spreading across his lips as he gazed down at where you skidded to a stop in front of him.

“I did it! Here—hold this please.” You shove the item in your arms towards him, hands animatedly waving towards the different places on as you explain. It took a few moments for Bakugo’s mind to catch up to what was happening in front of him, but once it did his gaze snapped up to meet your eyes in shock.

“—and so, basically, you put this on under your hero suit and it absorbs the shockwaves from your blasts, turning it back into itself to heat your muscles.”

He blinks, his thoughts spinning to the conversation from last week when you had caught him sitting on the rooftop of the college. Instead of leaving, you plopped down next to him, starting a conversation after a few hesitant moments.

“I know you love your quirk, and honestly I do too!” you giggle, a light blush dusting your cheeks. “But if there was something you could change—or well, something to help, what would it be?”

He cocks his head to the side, mulling over your question; he wants to give you a good answer, an honest answer. So, he dips into the vat of his insecurities, unearthing a small secret he’s never shared with anyone.

“I—when I use it too much my arms and shoulders start to ache, and even if I pause to conserve my energy it seems to just leak out and then…eventually both body parts end up going numb. It’s been happening more frequently now that we are training longer, and it—it sucks to be quite honest.”

You pull your knees up to your chest, eyes fixed on a distance point on the horizon. He glances sideways at you, noticing the indent between your eyebrows. Your tongue pokes out, and he realizes this is your thinking face. He’s amazed that he can see the wheels turning, and wonders what’s going on in your brain.

It’s silent for a few moments, before you jump up, an excited gleam in your eye. You start to leave, pausing to turn back to him, your face now serious. “I won’t tell anyone; your secret is safe with me.”

He nods once, and the seriousness evaporates as you smile at him, then disappear down the stairs.

“Was…is this okay?” You ask suddenly, the excitement in your eyes dimming slightly as he stared dumbly at you, not a single word leaving his lips since you handed over the gadget. “I—I just thought that—I can take it back!”

“No, I—"

“It’s okay! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. I had just thought…well, either way it doesn’t matter.” You reach your hands out to take the thin fabric back, but he holds it above your head, forcing you to stop and look at him in surprise.

“I love it, you just—you surprised me is all.” He mumbles, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. “I wish I could do something to thank you, something other than just standing here looking like a fool.”

“I don’t need anything from you, really! It’s, well, it’s a gift.” You reply quietly, twisting your hands together then shoving them back behind your back. There’s a light pink stain on the apples of your cheeks, and Bakugo gets the alarming urge to kiss you. Instead, he fists the cloth in his hands and lowers his arms, cradling the material to his chest.

“Thank you.” He whispers, still in shock that someone would do something like this for him.

You nod once, a soft smile on your face as you turn and leave the hallway, his eyes not leaving your back until you’re just a speck at the end of the corridor.   

Hours later he’s still thinking of the exchange; feeling incredibly stupid for not asking for your number at the very least. He’s supposed to be helping Kirishima and Kaminari study for their exam in the library, but how could he possibly do that when all he wants to do is replay your smile over again on a never-ending loop.  

“Bakugo? Hey, Katsuki!”

Fingers are suddenly snapping in front of his face, effectively ripping him from his thoughts. “What?” He grumbles out, smacking Kirishima’s hand away from his face.

“What’s up with you lately, dude?” Kaminari asks, raising an eyebrow.

Bakugo doesn’t respond, distracted by the familiar girl at the far end of the rows of books.  

Kirishima throws his elbow into Kaminari’s side, rolling his eyes at the huff of indignation the blonde lets out. He tilts his chin up to the other end of the room, and that’s when they notice Bakugo’s eyes locked on to where you’re seated, book in hand.  

They watch, transfixed as a slow smile stretches across the blonde’s face, his chin nearly dropping in his upturned hand to watch you.

“Oh. Oh my god.” And suddenly everything makes sense to the pair. Kirishima and Denki lock eyes, secretive smiles plastered on both of their faces.

“She’s really pretty.” Kaminari muses, shutting his textbook and leaning back in his chair.

“Mm.” Katsuki grunts, only half paying attention.

“And way smarter than you.” Kirishima says, eyes locked on his friend.  

“Wait, what?” Bakugo asks, attention snapping back to his friends.

“So the day has finally come…our blasty boy has officially grown up.” Kirishima pretends to wipe non-existent tears, sniffing a little.

“What are you two idiots talking about?” Bakugo asks gruffly, flipping a page in his textbook.

“Oh nothing, just—"

“When’s the wedding?” Kaminari asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Again, what are you even talking about?”

“You have a crush!” Kaminari coos.

“I mean, I would like to crush your heads together.” Bakugo mumbles, but they can’t miss the way his cheeks turn pink. He avoids all eye contact, choosing instead to pretend to read the page in front of him. “She ah.” He clears his throat, “She made me this material to go under my hero suit, something about the shockwaves from my explosions being fed back into the material to…well, anyway, she brought it for me today. And I should have asked for her number, but…” He trails off, the unspoken words hanging in the air.  

I’m scared.

Kirishima puts a steady hand on Bakugo’s shoulder, knowing the fear his friend feels is more than warranted. Bakugo is silent for a few moments. And then, “I have all of these hard edges, and I don’t know how to be soft.”

“You don’t need to be soft; you need to be yourself.” Kaminari whispers, smiling at him. “And something tells me she probably feels the same way about you.”

Kirishima and Kaminari lock eyes again before standing and calling your name. Bakugo watches in abject horror as they approach you, his knee bouncing faster as they speak, the distance too great to listen to what exactly was being said. His eyes flit across the trio, panicking slightly.

He knew deep down that his friends just wanted him to be happy, but at this moment he wanted nothing more than to leap across the room and strangle them both. Bakugo briefly considers blowing the entire room up but decided against it at the thought of another bill being sent to his parents.

He watches as you put your book face down, eyes moving between his friends. They say something, then you frown before responding. The exchange feels like hours but is only a few minutes before you stand. You look over, locking eyes with Bakugo, then begin to make your way over to him.

He catches both Kaminari and Kirishima shooting him a thumbs up, before scuttling out of the library, leaving their books and backpacks behind where Bakugo sits. He scrambles out of his chair, choosing instead to lean a hip against the edge of the table as you approach.

“Hi.” He whispers, reaching a hand back to scratch his neck.

“Hi.” You reply, pressing your hands together before twisting them together again. He recognizes the movement from hours before, cataloguing the nervous habit in the file in his brain under your name. “They said you had something to tell me?”

“I—you make my chest feel weird.”

“Um, what?” You squeak out.

“No! No, I mean—god, I’m fucking this all up.” He heaves out a sigh, looking up at the ceiling before locking eyes with you. “I appreciate your gift, more than you know. And I like how smart you are, and that I can see the wheels turning in your head when you’re thinking really hard. I like how you aren’t afraid to talk to me, and I haven’t…I’ve never felt like this about another person before. You haven’t left my mind since the day I met you, and I-I like you, a lot.”

Your jaw drops slightly, eyes flickering back and forth across his face. He swallows, taking a step towards you before hesitantly reaching to brush a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“Can I take you on a date?” He asks quietly, swallowing nervously.

You blink before a smile splits your face, and you nod. He smiles back, and before you lose courage, you push up on the tips of your toes to press a soft kiss on his cheek, giggling when you pull away and see the now bright red color flooding his cheeks.

“I like you too, Blasty.”  

[lady-lauren]

❥ Shanks x Fem!Reader

❥ Word Count: 2.7k

❥ Warnings/Tags: Dilf/Babysitter, established relationship, praise, daddy kink, light somnophilia, breeding, marking/bruising, choking, dacryphilia, overstimulation, creampie

❥ Happy Holidays!! For @pixelcafe-network’s Secret Santa, I was given the lovely @semisgroupie as my elf 🥰 Hopefully this fic has a few of your ~favorite things~ 🎁

Cool fingers run down the warmth of your back, tracing the curve of your spine with skin chilled from the sea.

Tonight you’re half asleep, lashes fluttering from where your face is snuggled into the couch cushions. By the looks of it, you put his baby to bed a few hours ago and slipped into a nap while gathering and cleaning the toys strewn around the den.

When Shanks hired you as his kid’s babysitter, he purposely gave you a little more than your asking price with an ulterior motive. Because he knew one day he’d smooth your edges, poke holes into your professional demeanor and fill the gaps with him.

It took patience, mostly because his sailing career kept him away from the house for weeks. But every time he came home, you warmed to him, like a cat taking hesitant steps closer until you finally landed in his lap.

He doesn’t think to wake you, instead he moves how he pleases. His fingers dip underneath the waistband of your soft pants, seeking the heat between your thighs.

You coo, drowsy and cute. Shanks continues, thick fingers languishing through your folds, building your wetness until a dark spot forms on cotton.

“Pretty baby likes that, yeah?” He asks even though he knows you won’t answer, cheek snuggling deeper into the couch as your hips buck like you missed him.

All he thinks of is you. Surely all you dream of is him. His sweet little babysitter, his perfect little slut.

Shanks pulls your pants down around your thighs, the fabric stretching as his fingers bury deeper into your cunt. Your heart begins to thump as you awaken, fear and shock and pleasure converging as he spears two thick fingers into your pussy.

“You drool when you sleep,” he teases, kissing along your cheek until he slots his mouth over yours. You mumble something against his tongue, thighs pressing together with a moan as you feel the pads of his fingers curl just right within you.

“I don’t,” your pout is cute, flushed, hips wiggling to get the palm of his hand to press against your aching clit.

Shanks pulls his hand from your pussy, sideways grin catching the light of the muted TV in the dark room. Slick drips from his skin and smears into your sweats as he pushes them down over your knees, letting you sleepily kick the fabric onto the floor next to a group of discarded toy blocks.

“You do.” He pulls you into his lap so easily, his sea-battled body thick but agile. His fingers slide back between your folds as you settle across his thighs. Skimming the outer lips of your pussy, he spreads you wide before prodding his index finger at your entrance. The press is wet, sticky, a squish against heated skin. “You’re so messy.”

The annoyance that flickers across your face, the twist of your lips and the furrow in your brow, makes his cock swell against the seam of his pants.

“It’s not my fault.” Yet you shiver when a delectable jolt signals down your body as his knuckles slide back into your tight hole.

“Don’t lie to Daddy,” his lips trail along your throat, breathing in the sweet scent that’s been haunting him for weeks, “you’ve just been waiting for me to get home and fuck you stupid. Probably dreaming ‘bout me knocking you up.”

“Have not. I’ve been busy taking care of your k-kid, I don’t need, ah, more little Shanks running around.”

But the way your cunt sucks and pulses around his fingers tells him the truth.

His fingers spread you apart, building a pace that makes your nails cling into the worn shirt on his shoulders. He relishes the feel of you, groans as your cunt drools into the palm of his hand. Your hips start to buck in bliss, the little bit of brat in you fading as he swirls the pad of his thumb against your clit.

Something delightfully wicked toils in his stomach as his cock twitches against his thigh.

“That so? You didn’t miss me? Weren’t dreamin’ bout me?”

Your pretty head shakes no, lips pressing together as you ride his hand, desperation and pleasure blurring your senses.

“Then Daddy better give you something to dream about next time he’s gone.”

Thick, long fingers stroke a fire against your velvety walls, each plunge deeper and deeper than before. His thumb presses dreamily against your clit, each swipe and swirl making you shake.

As soon as you loom against the orgasmic edge, he slows down, the raging hot sea ebbing away like tides returning to the ocean. He lets you squirm in his lap, smirking against your neck as he starts to suck against your pulse. His hot tongue slides a cool trail along your skin, tasting the cry stuck in your throat.

As patient as Shanks can be, he can’t deny your pleasure for long. Not when you start to babble nonsense, little whispers of please Daddy like you just can’t help yourself. Your hips fall down, humping and rubbing against his hand and pressing it down against his leaking cock.

“Already getting a little stupid for me, hm?” He smirks as you kiss him, all sloppy and messy like you’re chasing a wet dream just out of reach. You still taste of the lipgloss you first wore to his house for your interview, strawberries and cream, delectable ripe fruit he couldn’t wait to devour.

“You know we shouldn’t…” the memory of your timid voice rings in his ears as he remembers pinning you against the kitchen counter, rubbing his hot cock against the weeping seam of your panties. But you let him have you anyways, teary and doe eyed with your t-shirt between your teeth so he could watch your tits bounce with his thrusts.

His thumb becomes a vortex on your clit, drawing blinding pleasure until your eyes squeeze closed with tears framing your lashes.

“Oh, sweet girl, gonna make you cum for me so you’re nice and swollen when I fuck you.”

You’re panting, body begging for release. Your nails scrape down his chest, searching for an anchor as you start to get washed away. Shanks tempts you closer with another thrust of his fingers, the resounding bliss making you whimper. He rocks your body back, spreads you wider across his lap, watching how your pretty pussy stretches around his huge fingers.

“Daddy,” such a small, sweet whisper, “daddy, daddy, please!”

“Shhh, shhh, shhhh, no need to wake the baby.”

You’re the perfect picture: hair still crinkled from sleep, tits bouncing beneath one of his soft shirts, cunt spread around fingers calloused from pulling sail lines. His teeth clench as he restrains himself from pushing in too deep, keeping his pace fast and thumb coiling you tighter and tighter like a wind-up doll.

You absolutely shatter around him, head tilting back as your hips finally cease from chasing your high. Your thighs quiver, pussy spasming, orgasm flooding all your senses as you breathe out his name in reverence. Shanks slows, electing to watch you unfold for him. He sees the muscles in your lower stomach contracting, feels your pulsing pleasure on his fingers, slick coating his skin in gentle waves. Your chest heaves as you finally look at him, eyes glassy.

“Atta girl, good girl,” he loves the way you coo when he pulls his fingers from your slit, like you already miss him, “now help me out of these pants.”

He’s overly pleased at how quickly you move, nimble fingers tugging at his belt and dragging down his zipper. Feeling your hand squeeze around his freed cock makes him groan, low and deep like a predator released from his cage.

“I think you missed me more than I missed you,” you taunt, smearing pre-cum down his shaft as you pump his length.

“I don’t get to stay at home and fuck myself with toys, princess. Just get to fuck my hand and waste my cum when it should be inside your pretty cunny.”

You gasp as he pulls you down, sliding your messy cunt over the ridge of his cock. Your sensitive clit catches against the head of his cock and you bite your lip to stay quiet.

“Tell Daddy what you want, you know I’ll give it to you.”

He expects your momentary silence. He’s been pushing you for months, feeding you hints of how he’s waiting for you to make this permanent, to take your relationship farther than just a transaction between Dad and babysitter.

“I want…”

Shanks leans forward, blowing red hair out of his face as he starts nipping and sucking at your throat, undoubtedly breaking flesh and leaving little bruises in his wake.

“Yeah?” Shanks starts prodding your weeping hole with his cock, dipping the head past the first tight ring of muscle. You whine, shifting your hips and trying to push down, yet his strong hand keeps you from taking in more of his shaft.

“Want you to breed me, Daddy.”

A deep, satisfied growl erupts from his large chest. He releases your hip, lets your slick pussy start engulfing his dick. He cants his hips up, rocking into you, inch by inch fucking into your cunt.

Shanks wraps a firm hand around your neck. You suck in a quick breath at the ferocity of his fingers as they press into already bruising flesh. He tilts your chin up, catching your gaze. He watches how you search his face, glancing across the scars on his eye before landing on the smirk tugging his cheek.

“You promise that’s what you want? Want me to make you a mommy?”

You nod your head as affirmatively as you can in his hold, feeling his strong fingers flex against your throat.

Too quickie, he bullies his cock inside of you. You cry out, a tear falling down the apple of your cheek as you stretch around him and take what he gives you. You swallow against the anchor of his hand, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth as he bounces you in his lap.

“Always so pretty when you cry.”

It must feel so good to be so fucking full, he muses, a playful smile dancing across his face as you mewl for him. The head of his cock is fat and firm, nestling just below your cervix with every thrust. Every roll of your hips has the ridge of his cock sliding just right against your spongy walls, stuffing you more and more every time you come back down to rest against his thighs. He’s throbbing within you, anxious to fill your guts with cum.

Rhythmic little moans begin to pour from your lips, the vibrations tingling against his chokehold. He lets his fingers ease so you can catch breath, only to cinch tighter and make your pretty head float to the clouds as he fucks you.

“Oh Daddy,” the name is so lewd yet so sweet from your mouth, unable to control yourself as hot waves of bliss wash over your body.

“That’s right, baby, gonna fill you to the fucking brim and breed you. Give you babies that look like me, fuck,” each word is punctuated with a heavy thrust of his cock into your depths, stretching and filling, “make you mine and keep you.”

“Yes, yes, please, want your babies, need to feel you cum in me.”

“Been watchin’ you with my kid for so long, want us makin’ our own, want you here every time I come home.”

He’s not sure if the sparkling tears that start dribbling down your pretty face are happy or overwhelmed, but he doesn’t really care. He catches one against your cheek with his tongue, salt against his lips.

A tumble of strangled curses meet his ears, smothered by his hand and by the sound of his thick balls slapping against your ass. You’re getting tight again, clit rubbing against the patch of crimson curls and fit muscles with every push and pull he gives you.

“You’re such a good girl, perfect to have my babies, perfect to get fucked dumb.”

“Ah-ah, yes, Daddy, such a good girl for you, promise. Please make me c-cum, please, wanna milk your cock so, so bad.”

Music to his ears. This is what he dreams of on late nights, in a cramped ship cabin with his cock strangled in his fist—you, crying pretty tears, begging to let him breed you.

His balls tighten as your cunt cinches. Thoughts of making you his, breeding you every night until you ripen with his child overtake every corner of his brain until he’s nothing but a primal machine barreling into your body.

Shanks’ instincts go into overdrive, hand releasing your neck so he can grab your hip and pull you down with every snap of his cock into your oversensitive cunt. Your slick is drooling again, pooling against his thighs, soaking into his couch cushions. He doesn’t even care that sweat is dripping from his brow, red hair falling into his face and yours as he crushes you to him and dares to take everything he wants and more.

He’s racing to orgasm, can feel it in his weary shoulders, in his stomach. Your pussy is twitching, squelching, begging him for another release. His thumb finds its way to your clit again, pressing far too hard, but he needs to make you cry for him, to feel you come apart in his lap.

“Love fucking this tight little cunny, you’re perfect for me.”

He puts unholy pressure on your clit, coiling you until you explode, a mess of tears and slick as you convulse around the width of his cock. The suction makes his eyes roll back, shoulders falling against the back of the couch as he continually fucks into you.

“Fuck yeah, that’s it, baby. Give me another.”

“Shanks!” you squeal, but quickly slap your hand over your mouth, eyes shutting tightly as you try to listen for the sound of a waking baby over the cacophony of sex in the room. “C-can’t,” you whisper, “can’t do another.”

“Oh yes you can, pretty baby. You have it in you.”

His thumb is mean against your clit. Hot, right circles that make your legs shake, cunt squishing around the bounce of his cock.

“Please, please, I can’t. Just cum, cum in me and breed me and—”

“One more, just one more. Wanna milk my cock, yeah? Wanna suck all my seed into your guts? One more.”

You let him have you, slumping against his chest as he works in and out, in and out, toying with your clit until you’re crying again. You shake uncontrollably, jumping against his lap when too sharp pleasure rockets down your back and tickles your toes.

“Love you so much, baby, you know that right?”

“Mmmhmmm,” you whimper and nod, burying your face into his shirt and clinging to his sides for dear life.

“Love your cunny, love your pretty face, love how you take care of me and my kid. Love you,” he groans from deep within, feeling your hot pussy cream around him as he draws the last bits of pleasure from you.

You gush and shiver, mewling as your cunt squeezes and draws the cum from his balls. He pulls you close as he finally unloads, hand leaving your glossy cunt to pet your hair, making a mess of you as cum starts to string from his cock.

“God, that’s it, good girl, good fucking girl.”

He pumps his load into you, warmth flooding your insides as your cunt struggles take what he gives. Cum starts to burst from the seam of where he plugs you, bubbling out and painting your thighs.

A few moments pass, your ear pressed to his raging heartbeat as you both catch your breath.

“I think you missed me,” he teases, classic grin on his face as you look up at him.

You poke his dimple, freckled from days out in the sun. “We missed each other, silly. Don’t stay away so long next time.”

Shanks kisses your forehead, making no move to unlodge his cock, content to sit with you and feel your tits press to his chest.

“I think, as captain, I can make a new rule for more parental leave. I’m getting you pregnant before I leave for the next trip.”

[thefallennightmare]

The Ties That Bind Us: One

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit.*

•Parings• Noah Sebastian x Soulmate!Reader.

•Word Count• 2,268

•Warnings• fluff, language, talks of death/sickness, angst, depression, dark thoughts, soft!Noah, smut that will include unprotected p in v, oral with both male and female receiving, hand jobs, and fingering. Pretty tame smut in this.

•Summary• Growing up, Noah’s grandparents told him the story of why everyone wore a red tie around their wrists and while theirs glowed while his didn’t.

“Yours will glow when you meet your soulmate, Noah.”

When someone moves in next door and catches Noah’s eyes immediately, he sees the red tie around her wrist glowing only to see his remains red. Convinced she’s not his soulmate, Noah tries hard to stay away from her yet small moments between them start to blossom. So much so, he can’t ignore the tie that binds them together

•Authors Note• As I previously stated, even though this is a "reader insert", there will be moments I describe the reader because it pertains to the story. I'm not quite sure how many chapters this will be, I'm thinking around ten but it could change. I'm also sorry this chapter seems very short, but I figured it doesn't need to be super long with an introductory chapter.

•Tags• @artificialbreezy @blueskylinesx @dominuslunae @lobolocaamo @lilcrazy011 @badomensls @shayeanna-ashlie @supersquirrel1996 @missduffsblog @nicelittlenightmares @curse-bearing-hips @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @chey-h @idontwantthemoney @heyyoplayer @amelia-acero @xmads-omensx @poisongirl616 @theanarchymuse95 @trvshdxddy @thisbicc @losingmyselfinthoughts @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @klutzy-kay24 @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @collidewiththesavannah @tosoundlessdarkistare @rumoured-whispers @dontwantthemoney

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NOAH

Growing up, my grandma would always tell me the same thing whenever I asked her about the weird red tie around my wrist. 

“An invisible red thread connects those destined to be together, regardless of time, place or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but will never break.”

When I asked her why hers and my grandpa’s glowed the same color, her answer was simple. 

“We’re both soulmates. Destined to be with each other.”

I always thought the idea of soulmates was a bunch of bullshit people told to make up reasons why we all were born with these ties. I spent many hours trying to cut or rip it off but it wouldn’t budge. My grandma’s words echoing in my head once again. 

“The only way to remove a bind is with death.”  

The soft breeze filtered through my hair as I adjusted the beanie over my head, opening the door wider so my guest could leave. Yet while I stood on the front porch waiting for her to stop talking with Michael, I messed with the red bind around my wrist like I typically did. I’d been expecting to see it glow for the last few years once I reached the age of twenty one yet here I was at twenty four with the still same red bind around my wrist. 

“So, can I call you?” 

Snapping my eyes away from my wrist to the woman in front of me, her bind also red, I gave her a curt nod. “Sure, I guess.” 

I didn’t miss the way her smile faltered with my words and when she crossed her arms over her chest, I suddenly regretted not trying to be a bit more upbeat. It’s not like she was some stranger, she’d come over a few times before but it was never serious. I didn’t even remember her name most of the time which might have been wrong on my end but like I said, it wasn’t ever serious. Just someone to call when the nights were lonely. 

Wow, I sounded like a real asshole. 

“Maybe we can get coffee tomorrow?” I suggested while stuffing my hands deep into the pocket of my sweats. 

Whatever her name was smiled and nodded enthusiastically. “I would really love that, Noah.” 

Fuck. She said my name which means now I have to say her name. It's the respectful thing to do. 

I rubbed the back of my neck, long strands of hair tangled between my fingers. “Uh, yeah. Same here, uh-.” 

When I trailed off, unable to remember her fucking name, her lip snarled and threw her shoulder over her shoulder, bounding down the front steps. 

“You know what, don’t call me. I’m busy for the foreseeable future!” She called back, making sure to slam the door to her car as she sat inside. 

Shrugging, I didn’t bother to watch her peel out of the driveway and turned on my heels to head back inside when a commotion to my left made me pause. The house next door had been vacant for a few months now so when I saw a large moving truck parked in the driveway. With furrowed brows, I took a few steps closer to the edge of the front porch, the side closest to this house, and watched as someone walked up the ramp into the back of the truck. 

“New neighbors.” Jesse appeared next to me almost out of thin air, taking a rather large bite of his apple. 

“Since when?” I asked, giving him my attention now. 

He tapped my shoulder with the hand that didn’t hold the apple. “Since this morning. Someone was a bit preoccupied to notice.” 

Rolling my eyes, I flipped him the bird and gazed back towards the moving van, expecting to see a group of guys like ourselves emerge from the back of the truck. So when I saw a female figure walk out carrying a large box, my breath caught in my throat. The way her hair cascaded over her shoulders and how a soft melody seemed to echo in the wind over towards me; her singing some unknown tune. 

My eyes tracked every movement of her when she walked through the front door of the house. She was gone for less than a few minutes but the entire time, my heart beat wildly in my chest. It was something Jesse noticed but didn’t bother to tease because with a wave, he disappeared back into the house leaving me alone again on the porch.

The sunset had broken over the horizon, painting the grass in a glow of oranges and slight pinks. It all paled in comparison to the brightness that radiated from the woman next door as she stepped back out, pausing for a moment to roll up the sleeves of her sweater. 

“Shit,” I muttered when I saw the band on her left wrist vivid with a glow. 

Holding my breath, I yanked up the sleeve of my shirt hoping to see my own band glowing but felt my stomach drop when it was still that stupid red color. It was foolish to think that this gorgeous woman who moved in next door would randomly be my soulmate. Things didn’t work out that easy for me. I’d been dealt a shit hand in life so I should have figured that this wouldn't be any different. 

My soulmate isn't out there. I should learn to accept it. 

“Excuse me?” 

I whipped my head up from my wrist over towards the house next door, giving a very awkward wave to her. 

“H-hi,” my voice shook, showing my nerves. 

She gave me a warm smile nonetheless. “I’m sorry if this is weird but do you know when garbage day is? I’ve got stacks on stacks of boxes that are taking over my garage.” 

Her giggle danced in the air over towards me, wrapping itself around my heart, and I had to tell myself not to get attached by her damn laugh. If her bind was glowing while mine wasn't, that only meant one thing. 

“Uh, Thursdays,” I said after clearing my throat. “Recycling is every other week.” 

“Thank you,” she beamed with a tired smile. “We just moved in and the relator failed to mention that.” 

Stuffing my shaking hands in the pockets of my sweats, I did my best to not let her realize how the way she was looking at me affected me. 

“Well, if you need help or more tips on the neighborhood, I’m your guy,” I said with a lopsided smile. 

Even from the distance between us, I could still see her brow peak while she crossed her arms. “That’s very nice of you, thank you. But I don’t even know your name.” 

“It’s Noah.” 

Very briefly, the bind around her wrist flickered which didn’t seem to phase her because she gave me a curt nod. “Well, Noah, it's nice to meet you. I’m Y/N, your new neighbor.” 

I leaned against the fence that surrounded my porch. “Welcome to the neighborhood, Y/N.” 

Both of us stood frozen for a few beats, staring at one another, and as I felt an urge to ask her something, someone exiting the house made my body go rigid. 

“Love?” He called out towards Y/N, resting a hand on the frame of the door. “Do you need any help?” 

All it took was once glance at the man's wrist to see the matching glow with Y/N’s, indicating what I already knew. 

She had found her soulmate. 

You met her less than two minutes ago, idiot. Stop being so heartbroken. 

“What are you doing, Eric?” She nearly rushed over to him. “I told you I would bring in the rest of the boxes. You should be taking it easy.” 

Feeling suddenly out of place, I pushed myself off of the porch and dragged my feet back inside, doing my best to ignore the way I had once again got my hopes up for this soulmate bullshit. 

READER

“Are you alright?” I asked Eric, slowly helping him back into the house and over to the couch. 

Even though we moved in this morning, we had a moving company bring all of our heavy furniture a few days ago and set it up. Anything to help take the load off of Eric and I since it was me that did most of the packing and unpacking. 

He playfully pushed me away and sat on the couch himself. “I’m fine, Y/N. I just wanted to make sure you were still doing fine unloading the truck. It needs to be back by 8 tonight.” 

I nodded while throwing the blanket over his lap and quickly adjusting the black beanie on his head that came askew. “I have three more boxes to bring in. Will you be fine alone while I take the truck back? I can call someone to come stay with you.”

This caused Eric to raise a brow. “Who? We don’t know anyone here.” 

Right. Nearly forgot that. 

“But I’ll be fine. I already told you I can take care of myself for a bit. It’s mostly when you’re gone for the entire day that it gets rough.” 

Guilt filled my veins for a number of reasons so instead of unpacking the rest of the truck, I sat on the couch next to him, wrapping my arms around his midsection to feel his familiar warmth spread to me. I traced the various tattoos on his arms with my gaze, burning them into my memory so I could never forget the way they looked. 

The way he looked. 

“Your mustache is getting long,” I giggled while glancing up at him. 

With everything going on in our lives the last few weeks, Eric had basically forgot the upkeep to his mustache. Not that I ever complained though, I loved how that was the only facial hair he kept. 

“I know how much you love it,” he winked and pressed a weak kiss to my forehead. 

We laid there for a moment on the couch, enjoying each other's presence in our new yet quiet home. Things would be different here, they had to be. We gave up a lot to move to this city because of the opportunities that awaited us. 

“I met more of the neighbors,” I spoke after some silence. 

“Yeah?” Eric asked, running his tattooed fingers up and down my arm. 

“Noah. He told me trash days are on Thursdays. Recycling every other week.” 

He hummed. “Is that the one who always seems to be eating some sort of fruit?” 

I giggled while playfully smacking his chest. “No, that’s Jesse. He’s the one that recommended this great taco truck a few blocks down. I was thinking maybe I grab some on the way back from dropping off the truck. Our car is at the UHAUL place so I’d drive it home.” 

“Home,” Eric repeated the word. “I never thought we’d call California home. I thought we’d be stuck in Ohio forever.” 

Tucking my legs underneath me on the couch, I buried my face deeper into Eric’s sweater desperate to have his scent tattooed into my skin. 

“We had to move though, Eric. The cancer units here are far better than Ohio,” I reminded him, doing my best to not cry. 

I’d spent the last couple of months crying because of not only Eric’s cancer coming back but the news of this time, the chemo might not stop it from spreading. We refused to give up hope so one of Eric’s doctors recommended a program out here in California that was testing some new age chemo, one that possibly could help Eric's type of cancer. 

“Which reminds me,” Eric sighed. “My chemotherapy appointment has been moved up to 8 a.m tomorrow. Is that alright?” 

Blinking away the tears, I nodded with a long sigh. “With my new job, I can work from home and clock in wheenver just as long as I work a full eight hours.” 

His tender touch lifted my chin, forcing me to look into his brown eyes; ones that had lost their light over time. 

“I hope that you remember days like this, both of us sitting here together when you're living somewhere new. These things were never clearer in my head especially when peace was in our home and needs were met. Before my cancer.” 

“Eric,” I choked out. “Please don’t talk like you’re already gone. You’re still here, in my arms. We need to focus on that.” 

Reluctantly, he nodded, knowing that he wouldn’t win this fight. It was one we had often, him trying to tell me not to dwell on his death for long if it came. He wanted me to be happy. But the glowing binds on our wrists for each other gave me hope that Eric would overcome this, like he had before. 

Forgetting about the boxes that needed to be unpacked, I let my eyes flutter shut with the sounds of Eric’s soft snores pulling me down to a slumber that my body had been craving. I couldn’t help but wonder of all the new opportunities we’d find here and possibly new friends as I thought of my neighbors, ones that seemed to be somewhat friendly. Especially the one with the longer hair out of the bunch. 

Noah. 

Exhaustion had taken both Eric and I, us falling asleep in each other's arms on the couch. Neither of us noticed our red binds flickering like a home losing its power in a raging thunderstorm.

[nightlyrequiem]

Be Still My Heart

Chapter 15- The Call

Masterlist AO3 Next Previous

New Chapter Every Saturday

You're the best in the meth industry but a new product suddenly pops up. You and your boss, Valeria, must figure out who is making it so you can take back the market. All the while tension is building between the two of you.

A/N: My throat and head hurts so bad. Somebody kill me like actually

Tags/Warnings: Illegal Substances, Boss Employee Relationship, Angst, Some Hurt/Comfort, Violence, Manipulation, Suggestive Themes, Smut (But Only in CH20.), Dual POV

You are so childish. Valeria does something you don't like and you avoid her. You argue with her, ice her out, leave her home when it's in your best interest to stay. Valeria has scarcely seen you since dropping you back off at that shithole apartment complex you call home. You want nothing to do with her and she hasn't the faintest clue why. She tries to focus on the necessary paperwork needed to travel to El Paso but her thoughts keep straying to you.

Her pen lightly scratches over notebook paper, loosely jotting down everything she'll need to bring with her. She should tell you so you can do this for her. Only, you aren't here. Finding work elsewhere in the compound. She's not sure how, considering the only thing you do around here is cook meth and you kind of need a lab to do that, which you don't have. Valeria sighs heavily and leans back, her neck aching from having been hunched over for so long. she runs a hand over the back of it while she thinks.

Valeria is tired of you acting like you're above the rules. She gets up and walks over to the door to her office and pulls it open, looking for someone. She spots two of her men deep in discussion and calls them over.

"Hey." She says. They turn to look at her, looking wary. They walk over. She tells them to find you. "Bring her to my office." They nod and go looking for you.

Valeria retreats back into her office, shutting the door loudly. She pours herself a shot of whiskey and sits back down at her desk. Her fingers tap along the top of it impatiently. Finally, she hears a knock on the door. She shifts into a more casual position.

"Come in." She says lowly. You walk in, not looking all that excited to see her. Normally that doesn't bother her because nobody ever looks excited to see her. However now it only frustrates her. She feels... pleased whenever she sees you, she wishes it were the same for you.

Valeria narrows her eyes at you.

"We had a conversation about you avoiding me a few days ago." She says. "Are you having memory problems or are you being annoying and rude on purpose?"

Your expressions morphs into indignation. "I'm being rude and annoying?" You ask with disbelief.

Valeria rubs her forehead. It's like you two are cursed to have the same conversation over and over again. If you weren't you she'd have fired you long ago. "You're supposed to be working in here, with me." She replies flatly.

You frown.

"Why?"

Why? You're asking why? You've gotten too comfortable. Valeria must be losing her edge. She begins to wonder if the others have noticed. "Because I said so." She growls warningly, hand purposefully fidgeting with the gun laid flat on her desk. You look like you're about to argue but decide against it.

"Alright." You grit. "What do you want me to do?"

Valeria looks down. Grabbing the paperwork for El Paso. "We're going to El Paso, I need you to read these and sign them."

You straighten. "We are? When?"

"Soon." Valeria pointedly flaps the paper at you.

You grab it from her and situate yourself on the couch. Leaning down to read the first page. You're obviously interested in going to El Paso, not so much about working in the same vicinity as her. Well, she thinks, that's too bad for you. Valeria nurses her whiskey while she works. Calmed by the steady thrum of rain that has started up against the window. She sneaks a glance at you.

"Did you go to Saint Marie?" She asks suddenly. Wanting to make conversation about something you two may have had in common.

"No." You reply, not elaborating.

"Saint Vlad?"

"Mhm."

Valeria frowns. "How's your leg?" She asks. "Slip in the shower again?"

"It's fine." You say.

Valeria downs her drink and pours another. It doesn't take much intelligence to see that you don't have any interest in conversing with her. She rolls her eyes and looks away. Your relationship has shifted and not in the way she wants it to. You're really making her fight for what she wants. That's fine. Valeria had to fight to get scraps of recognition and respect from her brothers in arms, had to fight her way up the chain of command in the cartel. Fighting is what Valeria does best. 

She opens her mouth to speak but her phone rings, cutting her off. It's one of the men she sent to El Paso. She answers the call and is caught off guard by the heavy breathing.

"We need help." He pants, voice sounding rough. "Fuck. They killed them. There's so many of them."

Her blood freezes. You sit up and look at her, noticing her stiff body language. "What are you talking about?" She asks harshly. To her surprise you get up and round her desk, crouching beside her so you can listen in. You didn't ask, but you smell good so she lets it go.

"They broke in during the night." He rasps. "They- everyone is gone. They didn't even hesitate."

"Who?"

"I don't know. I don't know. They said 'stop looking.'" He says.

Valeria knows who. It's the people she's looking for, the people responsible for all this mess. "Where are you?"

"I don't know. I ran. I'm in the middle of nowhere." He says, voice lowering. "I think I'm dying. I think I'm dying please send-" 

Valeria hangs up on him. Staring ahead of her intently. She's getting closer. 

"You hung up on him." You say, surprised and sounding appalled. She looks at you coldly.

"There's nothing I can do for him." She replies. There truly isn't. It's a shame, but at the end of the day, he was expendable. You don't seem to have a response for that, however you still don't seem pleased.

"What now?" You ask, brows furrowed with concern. 

"Now we go to El Paso, we're going to finish this and everything will go back to normal." She shrugs. 

"You're very calm about this," You state. "your men just died and you don't seem to care."

"I don't." Valeria replies, taking another sip of her drink.

You shake your head like you're disappointed.

"When are we going?" You ask.

"I'll figure it out." Valeria stands. Looking at you head on. "Finish up those reports for me, I need to go talk to Diego."

You frown. "Fine." You say. Valeria is a little surprised that you didn't try arguing with her. She expected you to ask to come. To ask why you had to do her work for her. You move around her and gather the papers up in your arms. Carrying them back over to the couch and setting them on the coffee table. Thunder rumbles warningly in the distant. The true storm has yet to hit.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

More Than You Could Ever Know - Part 2

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: Big bonus chapter for fans of Ben being obsessed with Her.

Title from All I Want For Christmas is You by Mariah Carey

Word Count: 9.2k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Ben and Ryan go shopping, and you all try to find a tree. Usual Warnings.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth rotting fluff, established relationship, Christmas Special

Part 1 - Part 3

Read on A03!

Ben wasn’t sure when stores got so fucking big. He’d seen big box stores before—despite what She insisted, he wasn’t a fucking dinosaur—but this was downright insane. It was a goddamn warehouse, and a poorly designed, maze-like one at that. There was no fucking logic to any of this shit, because Ben took a turn from what seemed to be an electronics isle and ended up surrounded by fucking cheese. It didn’t help that it was only him and Ryan, and they both needed Her for this modern navigation shit. But She was off doing her stupid surprise—Ben had tried to call it a secret again and She’d stuck Her tongue out and flipped him off—so they had to figure this shit out alone, together.

It wasn’t going that well.

“What the fuck are these.” Ben grunted, his eyes narrowed on the shelf in-front of them, filled with weird looking, round stuffed animals. And a mango. And one brown thing that seemed to be staring into his goddamn soul.

Ryan—standing at Ben’s elbows and tapping his fingers on the half-full cart—shrugged nervously. “I think they’re called Squishmallows?”

“Stupid fucking name. What’s that,” Ben gestured to the brown one. “Even supposed to be-“

“Pancakes.” Ryan mumbled. “I think?”

“Huh.” Ben glowered at the plushie, and realized Ryan had nailed it. Stuffed pancakes. She’d like stuffed pancakes. “Good work, kid.”

Ben grabbed the pancakes, tossed them into the cart, and tried not to drown in the hot, bright pride bursting in his chest at Ryan’s grin as he started to push the cart once more.

“Wait.” Ben halted Ryan with a hand on his shoulder, and pointed back to the shelf. “You want one?”

Ryan turned a little red, his voice a soft fucking whisper as his heart stumbled in his chest. “Yes, please.”

“Grab it and we’ll get moving.”

Ryan nodded, choosing one of the weird animals—Ben would figure out exactly what the fuck it was later, but his best bet right now was a cat—and they moved on through the store.

“We got your pants.” Ben scanned around the store, half his attention on what they were supposed to be doing and half on making sure no fucking pussies started filming them. “And the shit for dinner.”

“And Butcher’s shirt,” Ryan added, and when Ben glanced down at him, he was frowning at the cart. “Do you think he’ll like it? He has shirts.”

Ben shrugged. “Everyone has fucking shirts, Ryan. Butcher will just be damn grateful you got him something.”

Ryan hummed, sounding slightly unconvinced, his bod still tensed, so Ben kept talking. 

“And the asshole is fucking impossible to buy for. Trust me, kid, the shirt was a good idea. Butcher will like it.”

“Did you,” Ryan looked up at Ben with widened eyes. “Did you buy him something?”

“Have to. Got him for Secret Santa. And, fuck, don’t tell,” Ben muttered Her name. “I told you that shit. Supposed to be a fucking secret.”

“I won’t.” Ryan shrugged. “I mean, you’ll probably tell her, right?”

Ben snorted, because he would tell Her. The first damn thing he’d do when She got home was pull her into a long kiss and grumble against her lips that he’d told Ryan. And She’d hit his chest and give him a flat glare, teasing him about really not understanding the secret part of Secret Santa, and that would be it. 

And Ryan fucking knew that. He knew that She and Ben didn’t lie to each other, and that when she hit Ben it was never painful or angry, and when Ben rolled his eyes at Her it was because she was a pretty fucking brat with a smart mouth, and he wouldn’t have her any other damn way. Ryan knew they’d never hurt or be really mad at each other, and he was finally starting to fucking get that they’d never hurt or be mad at him. 

It was why, when Ben shook his head and kept walking—never going faster than Ryan could keep up with—the kid’s heart stayed even, and his face remained relaxed. Relaxed for Ryan, so still a little fucking small and nervous, but without panic or fear. And that was as much as Ben could ask for, because he wouldn’t have Ryan any other way either.

“What else do we need.” Ben asked, keeping his vigilant watch on the store around them as Ryan responded.

“Um, I need scrabble for Kimiko?” Ryan mumbled Her name, and Ben’s whole fucking body roared with love from the goddamn sound of it. “Needs something too- as well.” Ryan corrected himself, and Ben chuckled at his puffed-out chest and toothy smile.

“Good work, kid.” He muttered, patting Ryan on the back. “Got ideas?”

“For-“

Ben said Her name, and She glowed a little around his skull. He really fucking missed Her, and if he couldn’t sense that she was a least half-way across the damn city he’d go find Her. Keep his gaze away from Her stupid fucking surprise, but also keep Her by his side. Make Her help him and Ryan with this shit, because She’d know what to do. She always fucking knew what to do.

He’d missed Ryan’s answer. Ben had gotten so lost in the instinct of Her, alight in his body, that he hadn’t heard what the hell Ryan was trying to get her.

“What.”

“Butterfly bush.” Ryan mumbled, staring sheepishly at the cart. “I read about them in my science class? They’re plants that attract butterflies, and you said she likes butterflies? I dunno-“

“Ryan.” Ben snapped, making his voice stern. He didn’t know how to do that soft, sweet shit She did, but Ryan seemed to understand his own, harsher words just as well. Understand that Ben wasn’t fucking mad, just firm in what he said. “That’s a good fucking idea. They sell them here?”

Ryan nodded slowly, his heart slowing to an easy rhythm. “I think so?”

“Well,” Ben shrugged, looking around for some sort of sign that said Perfect fucking gift for amazing wife. “Let go find it.”

It took half a fucking hour, but they found the butterfly bush. Stashed in the back of the goddamn store, real damn pretty and all fucking pink and green. She’d fucking love it. Ben grunted that to Ryan, that this was a damn good gift, and the kid looked like he might explode with joy and pride. Christ, Ben might explode with joy and pride. They’d managed to get everything She’d asked them to—gifts, clothing, food—plus some extra shit like the pancakes, nobody had died, and he and Ryan were doing an amazing fucking job knowing Her. Ben had all his gifts for Her lined up, and they were fucking excellent, but the butterfly bush was a stroke of goddamn genius. Ben wasn’t sure where the hell Ryan got his brains from, because Ben wasn’t an idiot, but he wasn’t that fucking smart, and Homelander had been a goddamn pussy dumbass. Maybe the kid’s mom, Butcher’s dead wife, but a smart lady shouldn’t have married fucking Butcher.

She’d say people might argue that She shouldn’t be married to Ben, but that she also loved him and adored him, and didn’t really fucking care what random fucking pussies thought about them. That maybe Ryan’s mom had seen something better in Butcher, just like She saw something better in Ben. 

But that was why Ben was almost certain Ryan had to, somehow, against all fucking odds, be related to Her by blood. The kid was too generous like that, too kind like that, too fucking smart to be anything else. Ben could fucking see Her on Ryan’s face as they wandered through the store for Kimiko’s scrabble. See Her in the wide awe at all the stupid shit on the shelves, in the real, raw fucking happiness when they found what they were looking for. 

See Her in the slight, hopeful gape on Ryan’s face as the kid halted in front of a terrarium, tracking the turtle inside with bright eyes.

Fuck, Ben could hear Her in Ryan’s voice. Hear that soft, gentle nervousness She had when she asked Ben for something. The tone Ben could make himself say no to if he tried.

Shit.

“Can we get it?” Ryan whispered, pointing to the turtle, swimming real goddamn slow around its tank. “Please?”

Ben scowled. That thing was real goddamn small—easily crushable if he and Ryan weren’t careful—and alive. It was fucking alive. It would need to be fed and cared for, and fuck Ben if he was going to do that-

“I’ll take care of it.” Ryan added, and Ben realized the kid had turned to look at him. Look at him with fucking puppy eyes. “I promise. It’ll stay in my room, and I’ll feed it and watch it and clean its tank-“

“Ryan.” Ben grunted. “Why the fuck do you want a turtle-“

“I like them.” Ryan glanced back to the tank. “They’re really peaceful. And, um, I just think they’re cool. I’ve always wanted one.”

Ben raised his brows. “Always.”

Ryan nodded. “I, um, I couldn’t get one. Mom said it was because I was too young, but I think it was because of, of the thing-“

“Fine,” Ben grunted, glaring at the turtle. He’d been going to give in anyway, might as well do it before the kid got all fucking sad in the middle of the store. Where random fucking asscucks could film it and put it online. Ryan could cry in the car, or when they were home, or when Ben was allowed to break phones and faces when people tried to exploit his son’s pain. Not when it could be avoided by buying a stupid fucking turtle. “But,” he said Her name, already reaching down the connection. “Has to approve this shit first. Deal?”

Ryan nodded eagerly, and Ben called Her name between their heads.

Benjamin. Is everything-

We’re fine. Ben glowered at the turtle, his voice a little lower than he’d like. Can we get Ryan a turtle.

There was a moment of silence before She responded, long enough for Ben to wonder if she somehow hadn’t heard him. What.

Ryan wants-

I heard you, Ben. But it’s December in Pennsylvania, where the fuck did you find a turtle for Ryan to want it.

Ben smirked into the air. Costco. This place is a fucking marvel, Sunshine, I got burger meat and pants-

I know how Costco works, my love. Why are you looking at turtles.

Ryan wants it.

She sighed in Ben’s head. I got that. He knows turtles can live for, like, twenty years, right?

Ben frowned. “Ryan, how long do turtles live.”

“Some can live for fifty years! And they’re so small, isn’t that cool?!” 

Ben grunted, reaching back to Her. He knows. And he promised to take care of it.

Where does he want to keep it-

His room.

There was a beat of silence, and Ben knew She was considering it. He could practically fucking feel Her brain thinking.

I’m worried he’ll crush it, Ben. She mumbled in Ben’s head. He’s so much better at controlling his strength now, but if something happens on accident, he won’t forgive himself. 

I know. But I’ll make sure that shit doesn’t happen. Ben watched Ryan carefully as he muttered to Her in the silence. I’ll carry it home, and Ryan and I can do some grip exercises to practice. He really fucking wants it, Sunshine. 

She let out a long, slow breath in the sounds of the store around them. Okay. He can have one. But it’s your ass if something happens to it, Benjamin.

Ben grunted an agreement, rolling his eyes at the air, but he knew She could feel his affection, warm and stupidly fucking gooey in his body. Feel the radiance over his ribs when he nodded an affirmation at Ryan, and the kid grinned so widely it made something in Ben’s chest goddamn explode with pride.

“Thank you!” Ryan bounced slightly on his toes, grabbing Ben into a tight hug. “I’ll take good care of it, I promise. Thank you-“

“You’re welcome, kid.” Ben grunted, because She’d punch him if he just dismissed Ryan’s thanks. “Let’s grab it and get home.”

Ryan didn’t stop smiling for the rest of the goddamn week. She didn’t stop smiling for the rest of the week. She got home from Her secret, kissed Ben with a bright, happy hum Ben could feel everywhere around him, and let Ryan drag Her upstairs to look at the turtle. 

“Oh, wow.” She titled Her head at it, crouching next to the tank with Ryan watching Her nervously. “That’s adorable, Ry. Have you named it?”

“Um, maybe? I’m not sure it’s a good name-“

“What is it?”

Ben could hear Ryan’s heart stutter nervously. “Bowser?”

She laughed. An amused, perfect, easy laugh with a pretty smile and nod that made Ryan’s heart ease, and Ben’s entire existence so fucking good. 

“I like it.” She nudged Ryan’s shoulder with her’s, still watching the turtle. “It looks like a Bowser. And if we get a cat we can name it Koopa.”

Ben glared at Her. “We are not getting a fucking cat, Sunshine.”

“Fine,” She smiled at him, pretty eyes sharp and amused on his, full of love Ben could feel in the whole goddamn world. “A dog.”

He rolled his eyes, Her smile only grew, and Ben couldn’t find it in himself to be really, truly pissed. She was too fucking perfect for that. Everything was too fucking perfect for that lately. Because the next week passed in a blur, and it was almost all perfect, happy shit like this. It was kissing Her and helping Ryan wrap his gifts, eating dinner with his goddamn family every night, talking to them and watching tv with them and laughing with them.

Even work wasn’t entirely fucking dogshit. Kimiko and Frenchie were just a weird as before, but Ben was used it by now, and he’d even started to pick up some of that sign language shit. Enough to understand what gestures were names and when Kimiko was asking him a basic question about Her or Ryan. How they were doing—really fucking good—and if She would be picking Ben up from work. On office days She usually did, and they were always there for an extra damn hour as She and Kimiko got caught in a conversation, Ben and Frenchie standing awkwardly off to the side.

But Ben had adapted to that as well. Learned how to talk to Frenchie more, enough to ask him for a favor. A favor for Her that Frenchie had said yes to without hesitation, and they’d been working on for about two weeks now. 

And everything was really damn good.

If every rogue supe in the country didn’t take a fucking break until New Years, Ben was going to start killing people again. 

His whole damn day had been spent in the car. Four hours to New York and back, half the time it had taken to do the actual fucking mission. And the only reason they weren’t in and out of that in twenty minutes was because the bitch had decided to run, and she didn’t have a no-murder rule. And Ben was fucking busy. They had to get their tree today, Ryan had to be picked up from school, and Ben had to talk to Her about what the fuck they were going to do about Butcher’s gift.

He wished She was here. She’d have backed the Ice Lady—or Queen or Countess or Duchess, Ben couldn’t be fucked to remember—into a corner in ten damn minutes, and they wouldn’t have had to use Frenchie’s dogshit flamethrower to sedate the bitch and get her into the van. She wouldn’t have sneered and mocked the SFBI agents when they turned the Ice Lady in, or spilled coffee on their evidence for arrest, dragging out the process another forty minutes. She wouldn’t have missed the exit off the goddamn highway.

Actually, if Ben was being honest about the woman he loved, She probably would have missed the exit. She was amazing at fucking everything, but not driving. 

But She was also fucking fast. Ben would’ve been home a damn hour ago if She had gone with them. 

He wouldn’t have been ten minutes late to pick up Ryan either.

He hadn’t stop to change when Butcher dropped him back home. He’d grabbed the keys and fucking booked it to the school. Ryan would be okay by himself until Ben got there—and Ben would explain, because the kid wasn’t allowed to think She and Ben would ever fucking forget about him—and She hadn’t reached down the connection to ask why the hell Ben was late, so everything was fucking fine. Butcher and his reminders about getting the Ice Lady paperwork in before Friday could shove it, because anyone could fill out a damn form, and Ben might have been the one who actually caught Ice Lady, but Kimiko had been right goddamn next to him. If it was that fucking critical, she could do it. Ryan was more important. 

He didn’t bother to lock the car when he parked it. The time it took to get Ryan wasn’t long enough to hot-wire, and if anyone tried to steal Ben’s property, he’d throw them onto the roof. And Ben’s property was a frost-bitten jacket and gun. Only a dumb fucking pussy would try and jack a car that had a gun.

Picking Ryan up from school was always a fucking trial. It was a nice school—She’d found it, working her perfect fucking ass off to make sure they treated Ryan like any other damn kid—and most of the kids weren’t entirely little shits, but Ben was one more goddamn incident from punching a parent. There were dumb ones, who seemed to think Ryan was some sort of fucking threat to their children, and the fucking pussies who’d been brainwashed by Vought and Homelander, who didn’t like Her. The school had received a petition to ban Her from school events, because She was a murderer and felon—She’d been fucking pardoned, and everyone She’d murdered goddamn deserved it—and She’d spent a handful of days quiet and hollow. Only eating when Ben put food in front of Her and told her to, only moving mechanically—her every gesture and breath over-controlled—and only sleeping when Ben held Her and ran his hands through her hair, muttering soothing words.

“You’re not a murder,” Ben had said Her name, kissing her brow as She clung to his chest and his whole fucking body felt ill. “You’re a good fucking person. Better than any of those pussies-“

“They’ve never,” She’d taken a long, slow breath, and curled her smoking hands in his shirt. “They’ve never killed anyone. Good people aren’t murders-“

“Good is respective.” He’d tugged lightly on Her hair, just enough for Her to look up at him. Pretty, sharp eyes that were glossy and heavy, that made something in Ben’s chest fucking contort and ache. “They’ve never had to kill Homelander, or Sage, or fight their fucking asses off to keep the damn world spinning. You did, and you didn’t ever fucking break.” He’d dropped his brow to Her’s, holding Her soft, tragic gaze. “You’re fucking perfect, and they’re just sad, weak fucking idiots.”

She’d nodded, letting out a strangled, slightly pleading sob, and Ben had understood. He’d just had to stay there, and hold Her until this passed. It always fucking passed, and Ben always stayed by Her side until it did. Until Her body went loose in his arms, and her hands drifted up to hold his face as she offered him a soft—but really fucking real—smile. 

“Subjective.” She’d whispered, playing with the hair of his beard. “Good is subjective.” Ben had rolled his eyes, and Her smile had grown. “Smartass.”

She’d hummed, guiding Ben’s lips down to her’s, kissing him until Her heart was at an even pace again, and Ben could breathe again. 

I’m your smartass, Pretty Boy.

Damn right you’re mine, he’d pulled Her lower lip between his teeth, smirking at Her breathy moan. I fucking love you, brat.

I love you too. She’d wrapped her arms around his neck, and Ben rolled them over, keeping Her safe and warm and happy under his body.

He’d kissed Her into the mattress until there weren’t any ghosts of horror over her beautiful features, until that presence of Her felt like a halo over his head. 

Am I allowed to kill them. He’d said between their heads when they’d separated, his weight dropped carefully over her body as She played with his hair and he rubbed circles on her skin. Just fucking one, Sunshine. Let me kill one.

Maybe one.

Her answer had been quick, and Ben had looked up at Her with a surprised grin. You’ve got a fucking name?

I didn’t say that-

Is it Pigtail’s dad-

No-

Puppy Pack’s mom-

Ben-

Glitter Glasses-

Benjamin. She’d whacked his chest, giving him a stern glare that didn’t even make him flinch, because that was Her glare when she wasn’t really mad at Ben, but was just being a too kind, too perfect miracle of a woman. Learn the children’s names.

He’d given Her a flat look. I’ll learn their dumbfuck names when they stop acting like Ryan’s got the fucking plague. Who is it.

You’re not allowed to say anything. Or kill anyone.

Ben had nodded, watching Her carefully as she took in a long breath, burying Her face as she answered.

You know the girl who always wears the leopard-print boots-

Yeah. Cat Boots.

Georgia, Ben. Her name is Georgia.

I don’t give a fuck what her name is. He’d frowned, scanning over her pretty, nervous pout. It’s her mom. Fake Face.

She’d flushed slightly. Maybe.

In the moment, Ben had just grunted, flipped them over, and fucked up into Her until she unraveled with bright eyes and needy moans above him. He’d praised Her and kissed Her until she was only happy, then made Her dinner and grumbled from across the table that, if She wanted, he would kill Fake Face. 

She’d dismissed him, because she was too fucking good and knew that Ben would carve himself open and crush his body under a million scalpels and boxes of gas before he left Her. 

Fake Face should count herself lucky that She was so kind and forgiving and perfect, and even more fucking lucky that Ben loved his wife more than goddamn anything. That Ben wasn’t going to kill anyone, because She’d be sad about it.

But Ben still really fucking wanted to kill Fake Face. She was a fucking annoyance, looked at Ben like he was some sort of slab of meant, and looked at Her like she was the scum of the goddamn earth, when this lady couldn’t hold a candle to Her. It was like comparing a burnt-out matchstick to the fucking sun, and Ben didn’t understand how anyone—even a jealous, dick-riding plastic bitch—could look at Her and not feel like they were seeing something holy.

Fake Face had introduced herself to Her and Ben the first time they’d picked up Ryan. There had been quick handshakes, sickly sweet words from Fake Face, and grunts from Ben as he’d pretended to listen, mostly frowning down at Her. She’d been clinging to Ben’s arm as Fake Face asked him if he was really as strong as the stories said, and She’d felt heavy and sick in Ben’s body.

What’s wrong. He’d muttered down the connection, and She’d shaken her head slightly. 

She hates me.

Ben had frowned at Fake Face, who was getting dangerously fucking close to touching him. Why the fuck would she hate you.

I don’t know. But touching her, it- She’d swallowed, nails digging into Ben’s arm. It felt someone was pressing a gun right against my brain. And my hands were itchy, and my skin felt wrong, and it was bad, Ben. I didn’t like it.

That had been enough for him. Ben had been happy to hate Fake Face just from how the bitch made his perfect, infinitely amused and kind wife look like She’d been kicked in the stomach. Then there had been more pickups. Pickups where it was just Her, or just Ben, and Fake Face seemed to have two separate personalities. With Her, she was crude and cold, and they’d figured out fast that the lady was, at least, a Vought supporter. Likely a Homelander supporter as well. And Ben had been ready to snap some fucking spines when the flirting had started. Unwelcome praise about how Ben was such a good man, for being there for Ryan—he’d defiantly tried to kill Ryan, only two years ago, but Fake Face seemed to forget about that part—and calling him Soldier Boy before correcting herself to Ben with fake giggle that hurt Ben’s ears, and the questions about how a man like him got mixed up in this whole mess.

It seemed like a pretty fucking simple answer. Ben had fucked up, and he’d repented, and now he was here. Still repenting, still with Ryan, always with Her.

Then Fake Face had called him Benjamin, and—after nearly breaking his jaw and her face—Ben had started being incredibly fucking careful with the timing of how he picked up Ryan, just to avoid this pest of a woman and her skin-crawling advances on him. He knew She did the same thing, and that enough made Ben’s blood feel fucking heated and wired.

He knew his reputation. He knew that he was a sex symbol, that he’d been the fuel of wet dreams for a damn near century. He also knew that, if he could, he’d rip all those fucking fantasies out of people’s minds on principle alone. Ben was fucking Her’s, and you couldn’t pay him with all the gold in the world to look anywhere but Her. It would be pointless anyway, because Ben couldn’t look away from Her if he fucking tried. She was everything beautiful in the universe, and then more. She was a force of goddamn nature, and alive in Ben’s body, and if his eyes were gauged out and his nose was cut off he’d still feel how fucking beautiful she was in a deep, critical part of his body near his heart.

Ben needed to figure out a way to shut Fake Face up for the rest of her fucking life. He wasn’t allowed to kill her, and they were still being careful around the school, so he couldn’t call her a plastic, disrespectful fucking bitch, and those were all his ideas.

He’d ask Her later. She’d have a way that didn’t end in having to explain to Neuman why they’d had to send a cleanup team to a high school. 

Right now Ben just needed to stand—rigid and taut—as Fake Face walked up to him with a well-crafted, sickening smile and he waited for Ryan to get the fuck back to the pickup spot. 

“Ben!” Fake Face chirped, bouncing to stand right fucking in front of Ben’s path. “I haven’t seen you at pickup all week-“

“My wife,” Ben grunted Her name, because he was going to say it at every damn possible opportunity. “She’s been doing it.”’

“Hm, well, I haven’t seen her-“

Well, She fucking hates you. “She’s fast. Busy.”

Fake Face hummed, tapping a finger to her chin in mock thought. “Ah, I understand. I’m a career woman as well, but my Georgia is always my top priority-“

Ben wasn’t allowed to kill the bitch. His fists were clenched and the glow in his chest would just have to be slightly released to disintegrate Fake Face, but Ben wasn’t allowed to kill her. “Ryan is our top priority.” Ben grunted. “She just doesn’t have time to fucking gossip.”

“I see. Does she have time for you, Ben?”

His vision was red, and he refused to fucking answer. If he answered, he’d spit and roar and draw attention. He didn’t fucking need attention. He needed to take his son home to pick up his wife, then take them both to get a Christmas Tree. A big one, that Ben would put stupid rainbow lights on and She and Ryan would smile at.

Fake Face seemed to realize Ben wasn’t going to respond, and switched the topic with only a slight cough. “Are you getting each other gifts for Christmas? My ex husband and I never did, he said that it was-“

“We are.” Ben snapped. “Her idea.”

It had been Her idea. She’d grabbed his face between her hands and said Benjamin, I love you very much, and if we don’t get each other stupid gifts for Christmas, I’ll kick you in the balls. 

“Oh, well, if you need gift ideas-“

Ryan walked out of the school with some of the best timing Ben had ever goddamn seen, and something bright bloomed over Ben’s ribs as Ryan’s face split into a wide smile.

“Ben!” He shouted, closing the remaining space in only a few steps and pulling Ben into a likely bone-breaking hug. “You’re here!”

“Of course I’m fucking here,” Ben muttered, holding Ryan until the kid decided he’d had enough. “Butcher’s just a slow dumbfuck. Let’s go.”

Ryan nodded, starting past Ben to the parking lot, and Ben had almost entirely forgotten about Fake Face until she was grabbing his bicep, and he had to tense his every muscle to halt his instinct to slam her fucking head to the floor.

“What the fuck are you-“

Fake Face was giving him that cheap, twisted smile and those syrupy fucking words, not at all caring how she’d damn near just been killed. “Jewelry.”

Ben scowled, jerking his arm fully from her touch. “Speak fucking clearly-“

“Ladies love jewelry.” Fake Face said, giving Ben a pout that made her look constipated. “I’m sure your wife would love some.” Ben fucking loathes the way she said wife. Like it was a lie and not the only thing he’d ever been sure of. “And I’d love to help you pick some out for her.”

Ben looked Fake Face dead in the eye, not bothering to contain his disgust for her and that awful proposition, and never bothering to hide the sheer fucking pride and love that existed in his body for Her. He hoped She felt it back home, where Ben could sense her, peaceful and content and likely wearing one of Ben’s shirts. Maybe She’d ask Ben what he was doing, and he’d get to hear Her voice. Tell Her how he was defending her honor. 

“She doesn’t wear jewelry.” He snapped, his eyes narrowing. “She’d fucking burn it off when I made her cum. Waste of money.”

Fake Face gaped, and Ben didn’t bother to wait for her to speak before he marched after Ryan, clasping him on the shoulder and steering him fully back to the car. He might have just made shit worse. Ben knew there was a possibly that Fake Face would think he’d been flirting, and would keep trying stupid fucking moves. But Ben was pretty sure he’d also made it real fucking clear that he wasn’t planning on fucking anyone but Her ever again. That was the whole point of marrying Her. Making Her and the rest of the world really fucking get that they belonged to each other, and anyone who tried to take them away from each other should be prepared to face the goddamn consequences. Consequences Fake Face better fucking understand, because Ben was weak compared to Her. Everyone was weak compared to Her. If She wanted to, she could burn out the sky. 

If She had been present for that conversation, Fake Face might have ended up a husk of a bitch on the pavement. It was why Ben only told Her about this shit when they were in their room, where all She’d do is scowl and pout and glare at him, then start to climb up Ben’s body as She kissed him like she was trying to leave a mark. She knew there wasn’t a damn thing to worry about—Ben made fucking sure of it—but that didn’t stop Her from grinding in his lap or clawing at his chest when he finger fucked Her.

It was just another fucking perfect thing about Her. How She was a terrifyingly brilliant, sharp woman who adored the whole world, and She went slack and blissful under only Ben’s touch. How She wanted him, wanted Ben so fucking much she’d get all fucking angry at the idea of him being looked at.

“You’re a fucking person,” She’d grumbled once, Her face buried in Ben’s chest. “It’s, it’s rude-“

“I’m well fucking aware that I’m a person,” Ben had drawled Her name, tilting her chin up so she could see his teasing smirk. “I think you’re just possessive.”

She’d flushed. “I’m not possessive-“

“You are.” Ben had muttered, and leaned down to ghost one, soft kiss over her lip. “It’s fucking hot.”

It was. It made Ben’s whole body buzz and hum and fucking glow, that he was wanted enough for Her to be possessive. Not his body or name or image, Ben. Ben was fucking loved enough that She lost her damn mind when people acted like he was just a face. And then She’d turn around a call him Pretty Boy, and beg him to fuck Her, and it was so much goddamn better because She was the one doing it. 

And Ben fucking loved Her. His whole fucking life was Her and Ryan. His whole damn purpose wasn’t Fake Face, it was finally getting that fucking tree. It was letting Ryan chose the tree—as long as it was a proper, green, massive fucking pine tree, Ben didn’t fucking care what it looked like—and telling Her about Fake Face as She was tucked into his side. It was making fun of that bitch with Her, and setting up the tree when they got home so Ben could get the lights up. It was seeing how beautiful She’d be into the shifting colors, how She’d probably look like some sort of fucking siren or painting when she was cast in shadows under the glow.

It was about finally having something so fucking good, and caring for it, and never goddamn losing it.

“How was school, kid.” Ben asked, dropping behind the wheel as Ryan pulled his buckle on. “Any shit I should know about-“

“No!” Ryan shook his head, his smile never faltering. “It was a really good day, Ben. We’re learning about Feudal Japan, did you know one of the first ever novels was written by a handmaiden?”

“No, I don’t fucking read. But,” Ben pushed on, before Ryan even had a chance to frown. “I damn near didn’t finish school. You’re a hell of a lot fucking smarter than that. Keep talking.”

Ryan didn’t keep talking, and when Ben glances at him he had a soft, nervous expression.

“What-“

Ryan mumbled Her name. “She said not to let you call yourself stupid.”

Ben snorted. “Fucking sounds like her. I’m fine kid-“

“But you’re not stupid!” Ryan protested. “You taught me how to use my powers! And how to grill! And about chemicals! I passed my science test because of that.” Ben could see Ryan’s chest puff slightly in his periphery. “Mr. Kline said he’d never seen someone eat the samples, not need to go to the nurse, and get a hundred percent.”

It was hard for Ben to fight the small grin on his face, and damn near impossible to stop the flash of pride through his body. “Fine. Tell me about the stupid fucking book.”

Ryan seemed satisfied, launching into a history lesson Ben really fucking tried to listen to, but didn’t understand a damn word of. He was practiced at this, though. Between Her and Ryan, Ben was a fucking master at grunting at all the right moments, nodding and shrugging like he got what they were saying, and letting them tire themselves out. Then he’d ask a few questions because it made their faces light up with joy, stash a few of their answers just to prove that really did fucking try. For them, Ben would always fucking try.

And She must have felt it. How Ben’s entire body was focused on Her, on Ryan, because She became colorful and alive around his head as Her perfect, musical voice hummed in his head.

You’re late, Benjamin. 

Blame Butcher and Ice Lady.

Ice Lady?

Ice Lady. Ben repeated, frowning into the air. With the fucking ice-

Powers? Ice Lady with the ice powers? Ben could almost see Her pretty, teasing smile, and he rolled his eyes.

Brat.

Cunt. What did Butcher do?

Asshole was pussying around when we turn Ice Lady over. Made me fucking late to get Ryan.

But you-

I got him. Ben glanced over to Ryan, who had settled into his seat with an easy silence, bobbing his head slightly to the radio. He’s good.

Did you-

No incidents. Said today was good.

And-

He told me about his classes. Going well. Ben smirked at the road. Your faith in me is fucking astounding, Sunshine.

She scoffed between their heads. Fuck you, Ben, I’m just worried about him-

He’s fine. And I’d be happy to fuck you, beautiful, but you’re going to have to keep it together until tonight. Think you’ll survive?

You’re such an asshole. 

You love me.

I do, you dummy. She sighed in the hum of the engine. Drive faster. I’m bored.

Ben grunted, and pressed the pedal down. He’d still be safe—Ryan was in the car, and Ben’s own need to see Her didn’t outweigh the kid’s safety—but he wanted to get the fuck home. Back to Her.

She was waiting in the driveway when they pulled in. Ben hadn’t even stopped the car when she moved to stand at the driver’s side, hugging herself as She waited.

She looked so fucking happy. Just as beautiful as She’d always been, just as perfect, but fucking happy. Bouncing slightly on Her toes as Ben grunted that Ryan should go put his shit away before they left, smiling at them through the window in such an easy, natural way it made Ben’s chest feel soft. Made him goddamn glow.

He’d barely stepped out of the car when She was on him. Pulling Ben down by his shirt into a long, deep kiss, sighing into his mouth when he picked Her up off the ground, and wrapping Her arms around his neck when they pulled apart.

“Hi,” She whispered, her smile all joy and adoration that made Ben fucking high. “Ready to get a tree?”

“Fucking born it.” Ben nipped at Her nose, carefully setting Her back down on the pavement. “I’m driving.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “You can’t stop me-“

Ben gave Her an amused, flat look. “I could very fucking easily stop you, Sunshine.”

Her eyes narrowed as he raised his brows in a silent challenge. Big talk, Pretty Boy- 

You know it’s not just talk, beautiful. He winked at Her, holding Her gaze. You’re not fucking driving.

But-

No. Ben kissed Her brow, grinning against her skin. Not a chance in damn hell.

Asshole.

Yep.

She rolled her eyes, leaning into his side and frowning at the front door of their house. Is Ryan okay? I know you said he had a good day-

He’s fine, Ben muttered Her name, shifting her against his chest and wrapping his arms around Her stomach. Fucking bounced out of the school like it was his damn birthday. Saved my ass as well.

Saved your ass? She tilted Her head back, frowning up at him. What-

Fake Face. Ben grunted, and She sighed. I still think you should let me fucking kill the bitch-

No murder, Ben. Not very Christmas spirit of you. She tapped her fingers on his arm, offering him a small smile. And I kind of like that these are our problems now. I can handle someone throwing themselves at you. And I get it. 

Ben raised his brows. You get it?

Yeah. She shrugged, dropping Her head back on his shoulder, and Ben could feel all Her love rushing through his body. I mean, you’re very fucking pretty, my love. I’d throw myself at you.

He snorted. No, you fucking wouldn’t.

Yes I would-

Don’t lie, Sunshine. Ben held Her pouting glare with a smirk. You never fucking threw yourself at me, you barely damn liked me. 

I liked you, She mumbled between their heads. I love you, Ben-

I love you too, brat, but you were never that pathetically annoying and desperate. You never fucking needed to be, he squeezed his arms around Her, kissing her brow and muttering Her name in the wind. You already have me.

She smiled at him, kissing the underside of his jaw. Very romantic, Benjamin.

He rolled his eyes, dropping his face to Her neck, sucking on that one spot. Shut up.

Even as She molded into him, whimpering slightly as Ben kissed up her neck and behind her ear, Ben knew She was fucking right. It was a damn good thing that the worst shit in their lives right now was Fake Face and Ryan getting changed so damn slowly. Not life or death, no screaming or blood, just Her swaying in Ben’s arms and his whole body feeling fucking alive in her presence. And neither of those worst things would be difficult to deal with. Fake Face was just an annoying bitch, and Ryan was finished in the next five minutes. Ben lived a life where he could kiss his wife until She was slack jawed and glossy eyed, guide her into the passenger’s seat of their care, and get his family out of the driveway before She had a chance to start thinking again. Now the worst problems were that they needed that goddamn tree, and Ben had to ignore Her pretty glare as he drove them to the farm.

You cheated. She grumbled in his head, playing with his hand in Her’s, and Ben smirked.

I don’t have a damn clue what you’re talking about, Sunshine. I’d never fucking cheat, I’m a goddamn gentleman-

Fuck you-

Not with Ryan in the car, darling. Ben’s grin became toothy and wide as She stuck her tongue out at him, his attention turning to Ryan’s pale face in the rearview mirror. “You good back there, kid?”

“Yeah, I’m just, um-“ Ryan swallowed, his heart a little uneven. “I’ve never gotten a Christmas tree before? Do we have to do anything?”

She twisted in Her seat, giving Ryan a sweet smile and soft words. “You don’t have to do anything. If you see one you like, tell us, and we’ll take care of the rest of it.”

Ben squeezed Her thigh as he glanced back at Ryan. “It’s real damn easy, kid. You’ll be fine.”

“What if I, what if I pick the wrong one-“

“It’s a fucking tree.” Ben gave Ryan a firm look through the mirror. “Long as it fits in the house and has branches, it can’t be wrong.”

Ryan nodded slowly. “Mom always got lights for our tree-“

“We got lights, Ryan.” 

She blinked at Ben. “We do? When did we-“

“Last week.” He grunted. “When you were off doing your mystery shit.” Which you still haven’t fucking told me about-

And I won’t until it’s relevant, Pretty Boy. “Ryan,” She frowned into the air, tapping Her finger’s over Ben’s hand. “Was that enough for shopping? Because I need to go back to Best Buy for Secret Santa-“

Ben shot Her a look, his brows drawn together. “I thought you finished that shit.”

“No, I got your gift,” She gave him a sweet smile. “This is for-“ She cut herself off, and Ben rolled his eyes. She wasn’t fucking fooling him, she’d been nowhere close to slipping up. “I can’t tell you-“

“Shut the fuck up, Sunshine.” He raised Her hand to her mouth, pressing a kiss to Her knuckles. “Ryan, tell her about that book shit.”

Ryan’s face lit up, and Ben only got a light whack on his knee as she twisted to listen to Ryan’s repeated lecture about the Japanese lady and her book. She’d, apparently, already fucking known about the book, because of fucking course She did. The rest of the car ride was a conversation Ben tried—and fucking failed—to keep up with, and when they parked the sun had already dropped out of the sky, leaving them some of the last fuckers wandering the farm. 

It was better like that. Ryan could wander—Ben keeping a careful ear on his heartbeat—Ben could keep Her tucked safely under his arm as She lit a careful fire in her palm, and none of them had to worry about invasive fucking pussies trying to talk to them. Ryan and Ben could even throw snow at each other without worrying about accidentally murdering someone. 

“If I get hit,” She mumbled, her head leaning on Ben’s chest. “I’ll kick your ass, Pretty Boy.”

Ben snorted, another ball of snow already in his fist as he scanned over the tree line, waiting for Ryan’s next strike. “What if fucking Ryan hits you, you’re not going to kick his ass-“

“Is it Ryan’s job to protect me?”

Ben gave Her an amused grin as she blinked at him with fake fucking innocence. “You’ve got a smart fucking mouth, brat-“

She shrugged. “You love it- Ben!”

He’d hauled Her up his chest, swallowing her squeak of surprise with a deep, sloppy kiss and turning his body to take the bullet of Ryan’s snowball.

“Fuck, Ben, I’m sorry-“

She and Ben both pulled back from each other with wide eyes, and Ben grunted as She half-climbed up his body to stare at Ryan. 

“Did you just say fuck?”

“Um,” Ryan’s voice was far too damn nervous, his heart rapid, and when Ben adjusted his body to see the kid, he was flushed and gaping. “I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry-“

“I’m not mad, Ry,” She pushed out of Ben’s hold, offering Ryan a reassuming smile. “I just didn’t expect it.”

“Am I,” Ryan looked between Her and Ben with wide eyes. “Am I allowed to swear-“

“Of course you’re fucking allowed to swear,” Ben grunted, pulling Her back under his arm. “Do we look like goddamn hypocrite pussies to you, kid?”

“No?”

“Then swear as much as you fucking want. But,” Ben raised a finger, narrowing his eyes at Ryan. “You have to go find that tree.”

Ryan nodded, and his heart sounding a little more steady, and bounced back into the trees.

When Ben looked back to Her, she was smiling at him. A real, loving, soft smile that made Ben’s whole body pound and riot with Her. Just fucking Her. 

What-

You’re a good dad, Ben. Her smile widened, so fucking adoring it might kill him.

It’s not that big a damn deal-

No. She held Ben’s hand over her shoulders, letting him guide them after Ryan. It is. You’re an amazing, handsome, grumpy old dad. Ryan and I are very lucky to have you.

Ben only grunted, because he was fucking lucky to have them. For them to forgive him enough to let him stay, to offer him their trust and love when they were the only two, truly fucking good people in the world. Whatever.

She glared at him, but let it go, and they walked in silence for another few minutes—Ben’s whole existence only Her and Ryan’s heartbeats, just as fucking calm as they should always be—until she tugged on his arm.

I got an early gift for you, by the way.

What-

Butcher. I figured out what you can get him. I’ll show you when we get home.

Ben frowned into the dark. You’re getting his, and mine, and your secret fucker, and shit for Ryan.

Yeah. She shrugged. But those last three were really easy.

He raised his brows. Your secret shit was easy.

She hummed. Yep. My person’s really predictable, and loud about what they like. You just have to be around them for five minutes and you’d have figured it out as well.

It’s MM.

I’m not going to tell-

Annie.

Ben-

Hughie.

She sighed. Ben, I’m not telling you.

Ben narrowed his eyes at Her. It’s fucking Hughie.

I said I’m not telling you, cunt. She whacked his chest lightly. So shut the fuck up and drop it.

It was defiantly fucking Hughie. And Ben would’ve gotten Her to admit it—with enough teasing words, grumbled praise, and long kisses Ben could get Her to tell him fucking anything—but Ryan reappeared with a wide, bright expression.

“I found it!” He bounced on his toes, grinning between Her and Ben. “It’s that way, and it’s really big and spiky.”

She nodded, tilting Her head at the direction Ryan had pointed to. “Ben, if you go with Ryan, I can go find the tree-cutter people-“

Ben scoffed, keeping Her pressed against his side. “Don’t be fucking insane, Sunshine. Let’s go, kid.”

Ryan glanced at Her—Her attention focused on Ben with a heat he could feel over his ribs—but started walking, Ben pulling Her after him.

Ben-

I can get the tree, he muttered Her name, glancing down as he squeezed his hold on Her. We don’t need some pussy with a fucking saw.

Are you-

I’m fucking positive. He kissed the top of her head. Trust me.

She sighed, but nodded, and grew loose and easy in Ben’s body.

And he was right. Ryan presented the tree to them—he’d done a damn good job, and when Ben told him so the kid lit up like the fucking sun—and Ben barely grunted as he ripped it out of the ground.

He started moving without a damn word, supporting it on one shoulder, and smirked at Her open, pretty fucking gape as he twined his free hand into Her’s. Her heart was fluttering in Her chest, her beautiful face slack with need, and Ben felt something in his chest try to pound out of him, into Her.

Don’t fucking drool, Sunshine. He winked at Her, waiting for Ryan to be in his view before he started the walk back, and She just swallowed, Her voice breathless between their heads.

Fuck you-

I will, darling. When we get home I’ll throw you around as much as you fucking want. He shifted his grip on the tree, and felt his dick twitch as She half slumped into his body, her gaze pure fucking love and want. Swear it.

Ben never got to throw Her around. She’d nodded, tugging Ben to walk a little faster, and paid for the tree with  fingers tapping on the counter, but they’d barely made it halfway back to the house before She was asleep in the car. It wasn’t even that fucking late, but Ben saw Her body slump in the passenger’s seat—Her presence in his head turning into a natural, eternal and peaceful glow of beauty—and heard Her heartbeat slow a moment later. When he glanced in the rearview mirror, Ryan was knocked the fuck out as well, and he smiled. 

He left the tree on the roof when they got home, and got them both to bed. He unbuckled Ryan first—She’d kill Ben if he left Ryan in the cold car alone—and carried him up to his room with careful steps. 

“Ryan,” he muttered, setting the kid carefully on the bed. “Ryan, wake the fuck up.”

Ryan’s eyes blinked open, still clouded with sleep. “Ben, wha…” He trailed off with a yawn, and Ben sighed.

“Need to get changed, kid. And brush your teeth.”

“What’s goin’ on-“

“You’re going to bed.” Ben grunted. “But you’re not doing it in fucking ice-covered clothing. Change.”

Ryan nodded slowly, starting to shuffle around the room, and Ben returned to the car.

She was so fucking beautiful. There were glittering drops of melted snow on Her eyelashes, and her mouth was parted as a small amount of drool fell from Her perfect lips. He swiped his thumb over it, She barely stirred, and Ben realized she was knocked the fuck out. And he wouldn’t be waking Her up for the fucking world.

Ben carried Her upstairs—just as he’d done with Ryan—but when he reached their room he set Her down carefully, and stripped her himself. Careful slow movements that didn’t disturb her, changing Her into his shirt—not bothering with underwear—and tucking Her under their covers before going to check on Ryan.

The kid had passed out without turning his lights off or getting under the covers. Ben fixed both of those things, brushed some hair from Ryan’s forehead, and checked on that stupid fucking turtle so Ryan wouldn’t wake up to it dead. It was sleeping under a sun lamp with a damn worry in the world, and had more than enough food to last into the next three damn years. Ryan had been keeping his word, and the thing was growing like a fucking monster. And the kid seemed to damn love it, so Ben gave it a little fucking extra food as a silent, stupid thanks for doing whatever the hell it was doing to make Ryan smile.

She was still asleep when Ben returned. Curled into his side of the bed, Her face pressed into his pillow, and soft, incoherent mumbles falling out of Her mouth until Ben joined Her. She let out a blissful sigh as he pulled Her into his arms and tangled his legs with Hers, her pretty face buried in his chest and that flower shampoo she used like a goddamn drug. Making his body relax, because it was right where it should be, and his brain lull into an easy sleep.

Easy fucking sleep he’d get to wake up from in the morning without screams or tears, with his perfect wife still clinging to his body and all Her love alive inside of him. She’d get that promised fucking when She woke up as well, and he’d make everyone pancakes for breakfast, then drive Ryan to school. He’d grab the tree when he got back, wait for Ryan to get home before he put up the lights, and She’d watch them both with a smile before telling Ben what he should get Butcher.

Then it would be Christmas, and he’d get to give Her his goddamn amazing gift, and She’d kiss him, and everything would be so fucking good.

Ben’s life was really fucking good.

End Note: I don’t care if they don’t sell turtles at Costco in my universe they do.

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Taglist

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[kiyo-cant-write]

ciel & sebastian w/ servant!reader around ciel's age ✧･ﾟ

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Hello! My writing blog was always meant to be multifandom, but recently I have had many twst requests. To keep up with my personal interests, here is a Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler post about my childhood bias/crush (when I was 11-12): Ciel Phantomhive.

While this post is tagged Sebastian x Reader, their relationship is platonic in this particular work because of the reader's design.

Please note that while requests are open, they will not be posted until after the 27th of December or more accurately into the new year (January 2025). Feel free to request anything within the parameters of my rules, but keep this scheduling fact in mind! Thank you!

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Summary: [Name] is a recent addition to the Phantomhive Staff, gathered by Sebastian and Ciel. They are around Ciel's age and this leads to some... shenanigans.

TW/CW: canon-typical darkness, manga compliant

Notes: pre-relationship (Ciel), explicitly platonic (Sebastian), the reader is human, the reader is 12-13 years old, they/them pronouns for the reader, take place explicitly pre-Campania

Guest Stars: Phantomhive Staff, Elizabeth Midford (mentioned)

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✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Ciel Phantomhive

Ciel is initially indifferent to [Name] similar to his feelings toward his other servants about half of the time (even Sebastian).

He doesn't see himself as a child so does it matter?

He honestly tries to avoid [Name] at first because he wants to be seen as an equal to the adults. Baldo commenting to "play" with his "friend" really doesn't help the early stages of the relationship.

Being persistent but not forceful will work well.

[Name] needs to prove their worth and use in the household.

[Name] will quickly prove themselves with "clean-up."

They will kill in the name of Earl Phantomhive.

Ciel notices their willingness to serve.

He admires their dedication to protecting him/the estate.

He is impressed if they do not hesitate to strike.

The more he realizes their use and loyalty, the more likely he is to speak to them or even allow [Name] to speak freely with him.

He doesn't like when Sebastian teases him for it, though.

Sebastian might be the biggest obstacle.

If Ciel feels that [Name] is being overbearing, they get sent to spend time with Finny (16) who is also relatively close in age to them. Though Finny is similar to a child brother at times.

Once they are closer, Ciel may become a bit irritable if [Name] gives Finny too much attention or coddling.

"He needs to act his own age."

Ciel cannot do anything about any possible feelings.

[Name] hesitates to do anything either.

They both understand the betrothal between Elizabeth and Ciel.

Finny had given them a suggestion that they weren't sure what to do with. Was it a good idea? No. Was it a curious one? Yes, indeed. They wanted to know what the master's response would be, but they feared it would only be anger for their disrespect. Still... tempting.

[Name] considered their options as they helped Finny in the garden.

"Do you really think that would be a good idea?" they asked him.

Finny nodded as he attempted to gently weed the garden. The last time Finny did this he ripped out some important plants and Sebastian had been ready to skin him. Since that happened, and after the events of last night's clean-up, maintenance was needed and Sebastian chose [Name] as "Finny Watch."

[Name] accepted it as it was.

"I think it would do the young master some good to have a friend his age who calls him by name! He doesn't have any friends..."

Finny seemed sad about it. [Name] wondered why Finny did not try to be a "friend" to their master, but Finny seemed to sense their curiosity. He shook his head.

"It can't be me, I'm older than the young master for one," he explained, "And the young master doesn't think of me like that."

"And he thinks of me as a friend?" [Name] chose to ask.

Finny nodded.

"I can tell he thinks differently of you!"

The gardener beamed at them and they didn't want to crush whatever whimsy and joy this was giving him. They sighed and gave in, knowing they wouldn't hear the end of it otherwise, especially after Finny told Baldo and Mey-Rin about it.

"I'll try and see," they agreed.

[SEVERAL HOURS LATER]

At the end of the day, Sebastian asked [Name] to report to the young master directly about their supervision of Finny and the state of the estate's gardens. [Name] walked into the room and bowed to their lord, nodding to Sebastian a moment after.

"Good evening," they spoke, not making eye contact with either.

"Good evening, [Name]," Ciel greeted, taking a sip of his tea as he watched them, "I trust you kept Finny under control?"

[Name] nodded.

"Yes, he took care of replanting and weeding. There were no, ah, plant deaths," they explained in as succinct a way as they could, "We talked as we worked and completed everything Sebastian told us to."

They had to ignore the soft stifled laugh that came from Sebastian when they fumbled for a phrase and chose "plant deaths."

"I see, very good then."

He seemed pleased. The master was in a good mood? Hm. This might be their chance so they took it without hesitation.

"Master, if I may speak freely for a moment?" they asked him

Ciel raised an eyebrow but he nodded slowly after a moment of contemplation.

"You may but whatever about?"

[Name] felt bad for confusing him but it was somewhat refreshing to hear the master speak without that underlying darkness in his tone.

"Finny suggested something to me. I would like to try something," [Name] explained, hoping this wouldn't ruin whatever relationship they did have with the master.

"Something. Very specific," was Ciel's comment, "Go ahead."

Ciel seemed certain [Name] wouldn't hurt him and even if they tried, Sebastian would handle them swiftly like he always did.

"Ah, thank you for your permission... Ciel."

There was a silence that fell over the room as neither child spoke. Ciel was frozen in place, Sebastian seemed to be holding back another laugh, and [Name] was unsure if Finny's theory was true.

A faint hue of pink dusted Ciel's cheeks as he averted his gaze.

"Was," he began, "Was that all you wanted?"

"Yes," [Name] admitted, "I'm sorry, sir."

Ciel was silent once again and [Name] worried they really had crossed a line, but then he spoke again, softer this time.

"It isn't as though I care what you call me when there aren't guests around," he said, waving the hand that wore his family's crest, "Do as you like with the estate's image in mind... I suppose."

[Name] couldn't disguise the smile that took over their features.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Sebastian Michaelis

To be quite frank, Sebastian thinks children are brats.

He didn't want another child around but it cannot be helped because [Name] is useful for the estate's security.

Despite not liking them at first, Sebastian is always "nice."

He is never without a polite smile, it's a bit unnerving.

As [Name]'s work proves proficient, he eases up.

They make fewer mistakes than the others.

Because of this, they are not so annoying to him.

"Child, you would do best not to hinder my work. But if you would like to lend me your help, you may."

He refers to [Name] more often as "child" or "littlest one."

He means they are the youngest of the servants.

He often lets [Name] off easy with punishment, similar to how he never scolds Tanaka the way he does with Baldo, Mey-Rin, Snake, and Finny.

Sebastian likes to make fun of [Name] and Ciel's similar ages.

He allows [Name] to sit in for Ciel's lessons at times.

In the end, Sebastian might be fond of the human.

Still, he won't say that kind of thing. What use would kind words be from someone like him? He doesn't much care for anyone.

He is bound to his master until the end of their contract.

That is all. Right?

"What in the world are you doing?" Sebastian asked as he came up to them, essentially appearing from thin air.

The young servant jumped at the sudden voice in the silence of the cellar and whipped around to face him, dropping their cleaning rag on the floor in the motion. Noting it was Sebastian, they let out a relieved sigh and bent down to pick up the rag.

"Sebastian! You startled me!" they told him, brows furrowed, "Why do you like to sneak up on me like that?"

Sebastian chuckled softly, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"I don't mean to. Perhaps you are just easily scared, child?"

"I don't think so," they said softly before they moved to continue their task, "And, I'm not done with this task yet. Did you have something else for me to do?"

They couldn't believe they had more work to do now. That was always why Sebastian came to see them, to give them a task someone else had botched or enlist their help with something else entirely.

"I did," the butler told them, "I seem to require your help with a lesson for the young master."

[Name] paused.

"A lesson?" they asked him, giving a skeptical look though they tried their best to mask it, "Would I be expected to come with you now?"

They were unsure if he was telling the truth. Sebastian enjoyed messing with them, just a little. But it was enough to make [Name] wonder every time the butler told them much of anything. They wanted to go to the lesson, though. Learning was... fun.

Sebastian noticed the look, being a demon and all, but said nothing about it. Instead, he simply nodded and smiled at them as he always did to the guests the manor received.

"Indeed. I would need you to accompany me to the study."

They weighed their options. Sebastian was probably not lying.

"Alright," they agreed a moment later, "Do I need to finish this task first? You did give me a list of things to make certain of here."

Sebastian shook his head.

"No, that won't be necessary. I will take care of it."

They almost bowed to him but caught themself. It was hard to treat Sebastian as a butler when he held himself with as much pride as any man would. Still, the one time they had spoken too highly of him, the young master had gotten upset with them (and Sebastian too).

It had been an... ordeal.

"I see. Thank you, then," they told him curtly though they couldn't help but smile.

A lesson! How fun! They wanted to cheer but didn't.

Even if they were only cleaning the room to spectate, it was a chance to learn things. They would learn something and earl was learning! It seemed like a fairly good deal in [Name]'s opinion.

Too focused on rushing to put away their supplies and head toward Ciel's study, they did not see a softer expression adorn the butler's face as he watched them move past him.

Perhaps they would never know his true affection for his littlest one.

.

.

Imagine the rest yourself~

.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a kuro-only blog! ^^

[colinzabelswife]

Glasses-Peter Maximoff

Peter Maximoff x reader

Warnings: nothing just fluff :)

You had always needed glasses, it was something you couldn’t avoid. You were little when it became clear that you needed them,so your parents set up an appointment to get them. At first it was only for reading, but when you refused to wear them because you thought they looked weird, it eventually became a problem.

After a few years of wearing glasses every so often, you just decided to get contacts. It would be a lot better than wearing those ugly things, you thought. Peter on the other hand thought you looked really cute in glasses. He would constantly remind you to wear them but you just protested saying that you could see without them and that they just made you look like a nerd.

“I just don’t understand why you want contacts instead of glasses.” Peter said confused, he knew that you didn’t wear them because of your insecurity. “I think you look cute in them.” You rolled your eyes at his statement. “What? I’m not wrong” Peter wasn’t lying and he didn’t like the fact that you didn’t believe him.

Two weeks later

It was currently 7:45am and you were running behind on getting ready. School started at 8 which meant you still had 15 minutes left to get ready. You were sitting at your vanity struggling to put your contacts in. “UGH! I can’t put them in!” You whine as Peter walked into the room. “Just wear your glasses” He says as he flops on the bed. You were already fed up and annoyed and his comment didn’t help so you glared at him. “Jeez sorry, I was just trying to help.” After about another two minutes of trying to put them in, you got so frustrated that there were tears in your eyes. Peter looked up at you and quickly noticed your frustration. He then got up and crouched down next to you and tried to calm you down. “Look, I know you don’t like wearing your glasses, but you’re already running behind and it doesn’t help when you’re frustrated with your contacts. So please…just wear your glasses.” Peter saw the look of determination of not wearing them, on your face. “I’m not lying when I say you look cute in them.” Eventually you caved and decided to wear your glasses.

Later that day, you could tell that wearing your glasses made a huge difference. You were able to see a lot better and everything was more clear. “Hey nerd”, you heard as you turned around to see Peter standing by your locker with a dopey smile on his face. “Shut up. I know I already look like one.” You say annoyed. “I’m just messing with ya”, Peter said pulling you into a kiss. “No I’m being serious. I woke up this morning and I’m breaking out all over my face and on top of that I have to wear these glasses”, you say upset. “Hey hey…look at me, calm down. Your acne isn’t that bad and the glasses don’t make it worse. I promise…so just calm down. You’re fine.” He said as he held you by your arms.

After a minute of standing there like that, Peter pulled away and looked in your eyes. “I know you’re feeling insecure but you shouldn’t. It’s normal to have acne and it’s not a big deal to wear glasses. They don’t make you look like a nerd, they help you see. And if people can’t see that, then that’s their issue.” After he said that, Peter pulled you into a hug. “Now I have to get going and so do you, so I’ll see you later. We can watch something together and get pizza okay?” You nod as the bell rang and walked to your next class.

Later that night like Peter promised, he ordered pizza and turned on a movie. You two were currently curled up on his bed watching a Christmas movie. “Maybe you were right about my glasses”, you say quietly. “Oh yeah, why’s that?” “Because I was able to see better and they were more comfortable to wear.” He then pulled you closer to him. “Well I’m glad that you are finally believing me.” You snuggled closer to him. “I’m going to sleep now, love you.” “Love you too babe. Sleep tight.”

Tags: @lacucarachapisser @bohnerrific69 @fear-is-truth @wcnderlnds @xrag-dollx @evansroses

Personal Rant

(This happened to me a few weeks ago except I didn’t have Peter 😔. I absolutely despise wearing my glasses because I feel like I look ugly in them and the day that I had to wear them because I couldn’t get my contacts in, my acne was horrible and I’ve never had any break outs like that before and when I put them on I felt like I looked like a nerd)

[welcometothehornyjail]

Horny Jail Anonymous absolutely, this is too honest

Listen, people see the infinite possibilities of Robin's fruit but hear me out. Doflamingo literally has what I call the bondage bondage fruit

He manipulates strings, hes an infinite rope. Plus the dude can literally make an exact clone of himself. An exact 10ft tall clone who looks and sounds exactly the same.

Imagine 10ft(over 300cm). An average door is like 6'8", look at your door and think, "hes more then 3 feet taller". Just massive, literally a walking talking 'size difference' tag. His hand is so big it could cover your whole chest when spread. An average person is literally standing at waist height maybe. He could literally hold you in the air with one hand without being slightly phased

The mans actually fucking crazy but all I'd personally ask for is one night. That's all you'd need and you'd come out the other end a changed person. Look at him at tell me he's not into the most gut twisting bdsm you could possibly imagine if not more

Horny Jail's Anonymous Thirsties

Please remember this is a confessional series; you may interact however you like, but you must always maintain respectfulness and civility with the confessor.

That's probably because the naughty implications of his devil fruit are obvious to anyone. However, Robin's does take some more creativity.

[dailyhatsune]

miku devouring her gingerbread son

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what is your favorite thing about charles and your favorite thing about erik? separately, as in what you like most about their characters :]

a devious question this one is, my friend!!! it's hard enough for me to explain my thoughts cohesively, but having to pick ONE thing i particularly love is difficult. with characters like charles and erik, theres been so much done with their characters over the decades and so they have so many components to them that make them so interesting and fun to observe. BUT I TRY FOR YOU TODAY. under the cut i kinda ramble and the size of this text box makin me anxious

i think if i were to be simple and broad, what i enjoy most about charles is his determination to help others, even if he isn't really thanked and/or if people don't even like him. ofc, this isn't to say he hasn't done wrong- to be honest, the fact he does wrong/questionable things at times is another aspect of him i really enjoy, maybe because- broadly speaking- he's meant to be altruistic (intent vs outcome and all that). i don't know if that's super exciting to most people, but it is for me

as for erik, my reason for liking him is easier to explain tbh. To Be Simple And Broad, his progression from villain to antihero over the decades has been fun to observe (as much as i have so far anyhow) and analyze. i think to be a bit more specific, him using his rage and pain as justifications for his villainous actions is definitely what compels me the most: hurt people hurt and the sort, an idea i've always found interesting (something something vicious cycles and the like). yet now, he recognizes this wasn't really. A Just Thing To Do and is beginning to change that, which i enjoy

[bunnyboy-juice]

spent the first hour and change at work deleting some old files and am having a grand ol time laughing at myself for not realizing i was a lesbian sooner

[alfhildr-the-word-weaver]

I got thinking too much about Marwa from What We Do in the Shadows again and how she was canonically making observations of Jupiter and Saturn in the 1200s. Then I thought about how Elena took Damon to go watch a meteor shower, and I decided that Marwa and Elena should get away from all the vampire drama B.S. in their lives and go nerd out about astronomy together, and this moodboard sort of happened. I also thought about how Elena becomes a doctor and went ah, they are both women in STEM! So I ran with that as a theme too.

But yeah, Marwa needs a friend who will actually support her interests and engage with her intellectually (no shade to Nadja and the Guide, I'm glad they had a fun weekend watching Mamma Mia together which was literally the only time we got to actually see Marwa happy onscreen, but they have never demonstrated much interest in science that I can recall and I want Marwa to have an astronomy buddy), and I think Elena would be fascinated by her and her perspectives on astronomy from centuries ago, and they could learn about modern astronomical advances together. If I find the time and energy I might even write fic about it, but for now, here is a moodboard so that we can all bask in the vibes of my beautiful crossover vision together.

Image sources: x x x / x (the first frame of x gif + a screenshot from x) x / x + x x x

[jitterbugbear]

man i just don't enjoy a villain protagonist. remember when that was a massive thing here years ago?? like people ate that shit up

[ofc-vi-writes-too]

In honor of me being black and loving being black and thinking everyone should love black people, here are a list of characters I believe love black women with everny bone in their bodies:

• Starting off strong: Steve Rogers. I can’t explain it but trust me please. If you get it you get it if you dont you dont.

• Jason todd. Like c’mon. Look at him. Tell me he doesn’t want to wake up next to a brownskin queen every morning. Look me in my eyes.

• MCU Bucky Barnes. I love to say it, Wakanda changed him. Stepping foot in that country was like seeing the light for the first time. He was basically reborn. I said it before and I’ll say it again. Look at how he looked at Sarah. SAME LITERALLY EXPLICITLY TOLD HIM NIT TO FLIRT WITH HER BEFORE THEY EVEN GOT THERE.

• Gojo, Itadori, nanami, and Toji from JJK. i dont think i need to eloborate here.

• Haley from Stardew Valley. She is not only a fellow girl kisser, but she would genuinely have a real tweak if the farmer was a black woman. Haley needs a 6 ft nonchalant butch dreadhead in her life it would literally solve all her provlems. She has written in her diary about this, and Alex hasnt heard the end of it.

• Fear from Inside out. Just believe me, please.

• This might be controversial but Squidward.

• Bruce Wayne. Literally thinks about eating drywall every time Selina Kyle is even mentioned. “Alfred why hasn’t God hand delivered me what i CRAVE and what i NEED *loud dramatic sigh*” hes also accidentally a perpatrator of hard wig soft life lmao. He donates ridiculous sums of money to black charities like 100 black men, and the black youth helpline. He’s an advocate for his girl’s community and we love to see it.

• Barry Allen. also thinks about eating drywall whenever he sees Iris. She’s just so sigh. And he loves her so much and he’s so glad that he married that beautiful amazing strong and powerful woman.

• Ellanore Shellstrop. After she died she had real clarity about the truths of the universe. If soulmates didnt really exist then wtf were her and Chidi im so deadass.

• Woody from Toy Story. Please do not at me. I will not be taking questions comments or concerns on that one. And for anyone saying “but what about bo peep ?!” Shes albino. Look at those 3B curls and tell me to my face that I’m lying. I dare you.

• lightning Mcqueen. Hear me out here! In universe there have to be like… black cars. He’s def the type to go for a UK baddie ykwim.

————————————————————————

a/n: guys please im just being silly they are fictional characters please dont argue about how much these FAKE characters like black people 😞. also if you try and argue i feel like that makes you a liiiiiiiittle bit racist but like thats a convo for another time. Anyway, sorry to all my sistas out there who’s fav character I forgot. Ur probably right and they probably do belong on this list, I just might have forgotten they exist! Dont be scared to comment them tho. I need to know what yall think too.

[thawthebeez]

hey guys. tumblr user thawthebeez back at it again with yet another haikyuu essay B) the topic of today is one that i see NOBODY talking about which is crazy because this motif is (in my opinion) one of the main foundations of the kagehina community.

now may someone please explain to me why the HELL nobody ever talks about how whenever Tobio expresses an insecurity of ANY KIND, Hinata is ALWAYS the first one to swoop in and tell him not to worry about it?

yes, we've all established that Hinata Shouyou is the #1 Kageyama Tobio understander. we get that. BUT THIS IS ONE OF THE MAIN DISPLAYS OF THAT AND I'VE SEEN LITERALLY NOBODY SPEAK OF IT EVER.

i'm pretty sure there's an instance of it in season 2 (either that or my brain just made it up) when Tobio is a little worried about his and Hinata's quick attack not really working out but Hinata tells him "nah you'll figure it out eventually" or something along those lines. i'm not going to lose my shit over it because i can't find it but if you know YOU KNOW.

a part that i COULD find from season 2, however, was this:

here we have Tobio explaining how talented of a setter Oikawa is- how he's so much better than him- and it's clear that this is something he's insecure about given his facial expression.

THEN we have Hinata's INSTANT response:

and it blows Tobio away because WHAT

because, to paraphrase a little, Tobio basically just said "yeah oikawa can make any spiker look good no matter what team he's on" to which Hinata replied "yeah but that team wouldn't be Karasuno" which is essentially "Karasuno is strong enough as it is" BUT- if ur crazy- " dw he wouldn't take your spot babe" (<- which probably isn't how it's meant to be interpreted because they just finished talking about The Team That's Stronger As Six thing so like... context clues. it's probably not the insane interpretation).

ANYWAYS boom there it is. Tobio expresses insecurity, Shouyou swoops in and goes "Ermmmm Actuallyyyyy🤓" WHICH IS SO FUCKING ENDEARING ON IT'S OWN BUT THE FACT THAT IT HAPPENS MORE THAN ONCE AND AT SUCH A CRITICAL POINT TOO

the critical point in question being:

(context: Tobio just came back from his training camp in Tokyo and is a little frustrated because he's gotten so used to playing with other prodigies like himself so to go back to talented-but-not-prodigious players is a bit of a switch for him. don't get him wrong tho he loves this team to DEATH it's just a little different that's all. hashtag number one Tobio apologist right here)

SO THERE'S THIS! and it goes without saying that Tobio is DEEPLY insecure about his late middle-school days and being referred to as a king. Tsukishima adds a little salt to the wound and while I didn't take a screenshot of it Tobio makes this look of absolute HORROR after he says what he says

(which, side note, shows a lot of a character development within Tobio. especially since I've been flipping between season 2 and 4 a lot looking for these clips. Tobio didn't even notice when he was acting kingly before but he realizes it INSTANTLY now which is so so so good for him yayyyy character development!)

this also leads fantastically into my next tangent which is

TOBIO FUCKING APOLOGIZES!

now, admittedly this isn't entirely related to my thesis but i absolutely ADORE talking about this scene and i genuinely think it is one of the most prevalent displays of character development within Tobio because i feel like he tends to get overshadowed by all the other characters (especially Hinata, which i'm not upset about in the slightest like it makes perfect sense and if Tobio got all the attention all the time the show would be soooo unbalanced)

but I feel like a lot of people skip over Tobio's overall development over the course of the show. I mean compare s1 Tobio to s4 Tobio THAT IS NOT SAME PERSON ANYMORE. he grows so much over such a short period of time (which is another essay I could write. something along the lines of "Explaining Why Tobio And Shouyou Need To Be On Separate Teams Actually Because Character Development Purposes" because the amount of people i've seen on tiktok complaining about kghn being on separate teams and how they should just be on the same team forever makes my blood boil violently) and it's so refreshing to see Tobio's growth especially as a big Tobio enjoyer.

ANYWAYS back to the main thesis.

So Hinata steps in IMMEDIATELY here. literally cuts Tobio's apology off because HE HAS NOTHING TO APOLOGIZE FOR. he was expressing his thoughts whatever that's fine he could have done it in a nicer way SURE but listen the guy still has a LOOOONNNGGGG way to go but still, nothing to apologize for. it's just growing pains, y'know?

now the quote "What's wrong with him being the King again?" appearing here isn't the first time we're seeing this. Hinata has ALWAYS been confused as to why calling Tobio a "King" is a bad thing. literally from day fucking one Hinata was like "nah dude I think that title is cool" WHICH, AGAIN, TOBIO BEING INSECURE ABOUT SOMETHING AND SHOUYOU REASSURING HIM THAT IT'S TOTALLY CHILL HELLO?????

LITERALLY FROM DAY ONE SHOUYOU HAS BEEN DOING THIS. THAT MAN MAY THINK TOBIO'S AN ASSHOLE SOMETIMES (and he kinda is) BUT NEVER WILL HINATA INHERENTLY HATE A PART OF HIM. and i don't think they realize it here nor do i think the realization comes soon after but at some point there will be the realization that they love each other. every single part. fucking Tobio probably realized it way back in junior high but that's a tangent for another time.

now this line.... this one right here...... oh my god i can be SO NORMAL ABOUT IT.

the main reason why Tobio had this look of HORROR on his face after he yelled at everyone was BECAUSE HE KNEW THE ENDING. he knew that yelling at them would have consequences (if it weren't for Hinata stepping in thank god). HE'S SEEN IT ALL BEFORE. in his final year of junior high he yelled at his teammates to run faster and jump higher and be better AND THEY LEFT HIM!!!

so Tobio yelling like this instantly makes him afraid that he's just ruined the entire balance of the team. he thinks he's going to be left behind again because he yelled and everyone is going to leave him BUT!!!!!

BUT SHOUYOU IMMEDIATELY JUMPS IN AND SAYS "idc what u say honestly if i don't like i'm just not gonna listen" OR, TO TRANSLATE "i'm not going anywhere regardless of what you say"

Tobio's biggest fear is losing this team. I literally do not need to explain why. that man would fucking DIE for this team (if you really need an explanation just to go the end of the Kamomedai match when Tobio admits that he's upset they lost because he wanted to play with that specific team more).

and for Hinata to essentially say "you could literally be as kingly as u want and i simply would not care, pal, i promise you i am NOT going ANYWHERE!!!" which has got to be SO FUCKING RELIEVING FOR TOBIO.

(also something something "nobody was there" / "i'm here" something something "doesn't matter what kind of toss goes up if you send it my way i'm hitting it" something something they're soulmates or whatever they are literally bound together by the universe they were destined to be together and it's a crime that universe kept them apart for so long and now that they're together they will always BE together two peas in a pod literally inseparable they are hot glued and duct taped together.)

and then there's this. i mean at this point you already know what i'm going to say like you get it by now but again IT MUST BE SO RELIEVING TO TOBIO to know that shouyou thinks his biggest insecurity is cool. that shouyou thinks that it's not something to be concerned about. that no matter what, no matter how much a King he is, they're not going anywhere.

SOMETHING SOMETHING "you drew stars around my scars" IF YOU EVEN CARE

and just the fact that it's always ALWAYS shouyou to do this. the fact that there was dead silence before shouyou spoke up. the fact that it's ALWAYS HIM there to understand Tobio (someone who has been misunderstood for as long as he can remember) GOD THEY DRIVE ME INSANE.

anyways thank you for being a witness to this madness👍