#pretty boy Fel is back

[mvrcar]

WE ARE SO BACK

[kawareo]

Sceleritas Fel. Your loyal, and ever-adoring, butler.

I love this guy but to me he is one of the scariest part of the Dark Urge story

When I first met him, I thought he was hilarious and silly and that it was cute how much he genuinely loved Durge, and then it hit me just how fucked up the fact that I thought so was.

I find Sceleritas as a concept so interesting! He is there to provide someone for Durge to talk to, someone he can think he can trust - but can he, really? Sceleritas is, in the end, an extension of Bhaal. Everything he does he does in a way that pushes Durge towards Bhaal. The way he babies Durge is funny at first but then it scares me; Durge is not allowed to grow up and mature emotionally so that he has to always stay daddy's special boy. Durge's concerns are brushed off and he's scolded like a child. Slayer form gets called 'jimjams' and even that is babied. Scel compliments him all the time and at the same time never takes his actual words as something serious. Durge isn't even allowed to make up his own mind about anything - i'm thinking back to Sceleritas telling him that his Urges are his true nature, his own thoughts that are trying to claw their way outside, when I'm pretty sure it's canon that the Urge is Bhaal's will that is implanted in Durge's mind.

Another thing is what Scel says when you kill him as a Slayer - every death brings out a smarter, better Sceleritas. No wonder he enjoys you killing him, it literally makes him better!

He's also a pretty shitty butler, as you can tell from the flashback scene where he fucks up and accidentally slices a vein of a victim Durge was dissecting alive. Why? Because he was 'drunk on the job, again'. That kind of goes against everything Scel leads you to believe about himself and is so interesting to me.

Scel exists to make sure Durge doesn't have a need to talk to or trust or be with anyone else, his social and more mortal needs are satisfied in a way that is no risk to bhaal or his dogma. Everything around Scel screams gaslighting and something extremely icky and the worst part is that it is really easy to see how Durge would fall for what Scel appears to be at first glance.

But then again, this is just my interpretation, and I do tend to prefer to look at darker side of things especially when it comes to the Temple of Bhaal, I do want to explore this take on Sceleritas and Durge's relationship more in my fics, just how smothering and toxic it actually is. Again, just my interpretation, but Scel is also part of why Strike is the way he is when it comes to sex, the butler played a big role in normalizing sexual abuse in the temple to the point where Strike isn't even aware of it being abuse in the first place.

[ocinstar]

Like a cake

Spencer x afab!reader

Summary: Spencer accidentally eats a special brownie and gets baked for the first time, making him reveal some things.

Cw: drug use (devils lettuce), fluff, use of y/n

A/n: cooked this up at 3 am while watching that scene in the perks of being a wallflower where charlie gets high and thought high spencer would be hilarious 😭

Also this is not proof read, so if u see any spelling mistakes, no you didn't 😇

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"Do I really have to go to this thing?" Spencer asked Derek from his seat beside me.

Derek had gotten an invite to a house party by some of his friends and had insisted on us coming along with him. Emily and I were pretty quick to accept the invitation, but it took a lot of convincing to get boy wonder to agree to join us. He only agreed after I promised to lend him my copy The Undertaker in the original Russian print.

"Yes, you do." Morgan answered with a breathy chuckle. Spencer sighed and sunk lower in his seat. I sort of felt bad now for pushing him to come, especially since I know he's uncomfortable with things like this. But that's also exactly why I pushed him, to get him out of his comfort zone a bit and have the chance to talk with people in a low stress environment. Derek had said the party wasn't supposed to be to big, just a few friends. Which of whom were all going to be intoxicated, therefore easier to talk to since drunk people tend to be less judgmental than sober people.

"Don't worry, spence. It'll be fun." I gave him a reassuring smile. He let out another sigh that let me know he didn't really believe me.

"Yeah, Reid. It'll be fun." Emily reiterated from the front seat. I didn't plan on leaving Spencer to fend for himself at this party of course. I planned on staying by his side until I was sure he was going to be fine, but I realized that might be a bit harder than I thought as we pulled up to the house. It was crowded with cars and some people hanging out on the front lawn. As we stepped out, we could hear the music coming from inside.

"This is definitely more than 'a few friends', Morgan." Spencer fidgeted with his hands nervous. Derek patted his back before clapping his shoulder and shaking him slightly.

"You'll be just fine, pretty boy." He said before him and Emily walked off and into the house. Spencer's anxiety was very apparent as he cracked and played with his fingers.

"We can leave if you really want to." I offered once I realized something like this might be way to out of his comfort zone. He took a deep breath and shook his head.

"No, no, it's fine."

"Are you sure?" I asked again just to make sure he was ok with this. He nodded his head yes so I linked my arm with his as I lead him into the party.

From the amount of cars parked outside of course I expected there to be way more people than previously anticipated, but I definitely didn't expect this many people. I held onto spencer's arm a bit tighter as we walk through the sea of people. I saw some people head down to where I assumed the basement was and lead spencer down the stairs. It was calmer down there, less people and softer music. So I thought this would be a better environment for spencer, who was currently as stiff as a board. I unlinked my arm from his to give him some space. I spotted the vacant couch and gestured for him to follow me as he went on about how Morgan was a liar.

"'Just a few people' he said. He promised just a few people! This is what I get for trusting him. He's always trying to get me to go to parties with him, of course it wasn't gonna be 'just a few people.'" His rant continued as we walked.

"Yes, yes, Derek is a liar and I'll put salt in his coffee tomorrow. But for now, just try to have a bit of fun tonight, ok?" I sat down on the couch, making myself comfortable. He sighed heavily and nodded.

"Ok, I'll try." He sat down, awkwardly positioned on the edge with his hands on his knees. It was obvious he felt uncomfortable sitting on a strange couch with God knows what on it. There was an ottoman beside the coffee table that looked like it opened up, so I opened it in hope to find something for spencer to sit on. Sure enough there was a thin blanket that looked clean.

"Here, up." I ordered him to stand and he did without a word. Cute.

I draped the blanket over the couch and gestured for spencer to sit back down. He smiled me gratefully as he sat back down, now looking much more comfortable.

"Thank you." I waved my hand dismissively, I mean it's the least I could do for making him come here. Some people filed back upstairs, so I saw an opportunity a drink from upstairs while it was basically empty down here.

"Will you be ok if I go get a drink?" He looked up at me with his gorgeous brown eyes, which made me want to just sit back down and forget about the drink.

"Yes, I'll be fine." He gave me a tight liped smile. I was reluctant to leave him, but I walked off regardless.

~~~

I felt awkward sitting all alone. After y/n left, I just started fiddling with my hands and looking around. I wish I had told y/n to stay. She was the only reason I had came and now without her here, i felt out of place.

I hear a group of people come down the stairs, their loud laughing filling the room. I get insanely anxious when I realize their voices getting closer to me.

"Hey man, mind if we sit here with you?" One of the guys ask. Of course I couldn't say no. Well technically I could, but I don't know how without coming across rude.

"Uh, yeah, sure." I slide over to the very end of the couch as 2 of them sat down and the others sat on the floor or stood. They continued their loud conversation and I wondered if I should just leave.

"Whatever, star wars and star trek are basically the same thing." One girl said from the floor. I suddenly thought back to earlier and the promise i made to y/n to try and have fun. So I interjected before I could over think it.

"Actually, Star Trek is more based on probable science as basis for it's plot while star wars is more sci-fantasy more focused on how people react to their surroundings, instead of how the surroundings are possible." I regretted opening my mouth immediately. They stared at me, surprised I had spoken to them.

"Thank you!" The guy sitting beside me shouted. "See! I told you!" He pointed at the girl who was speaking earlier. She simply rolled her eyes at him and he turned his head to me.

"Continue telling her how wrong she is." They all looked at me, waiting for me to continue my informational rant. Which I happily did. As I talked more about the differences and similarities between the 2 worlds, one of the guys, who I hadn't noticed had left, approached us with a plate of brownies. He held them out to the group and they all excitedly reached for them.

"You want one to?" He offered and held the plate out further so I could reach it. Of course I wasn't going to pass up a free treat, so I took one without giving it much thought.

"Thank you." I chewed on the browine as I carried on with what I was saying before being interrupted. This night is turning out to be fun after all. I do wish y/n was her though.

"Can I have another one please?"

~~~

Upstairs felt like a nostalgia trip back to high school. A room flooded with drunk people and people groping each other. It took some time to navigate my way through everyone and it took even longer finding the kitchen. But I eventually found my way. I was delighted seeing the familiar face of Derek Morgan as I entered.

"Well if it isn't the liar." He looked up from pouring his drink. He smiled at me and laughed.

"How's boy genius doing?" He asked as he took a sip of whatever drink he mixed together.

"I think he might climb out a window and run home any second now." I grabbed 2 empty solo cups, filling one up with water and the other with vodka and cranberry juice. Derek laughed.

"Ah I think he has a compelling reason to stay." He winked at me and I felt a blush creep onto my cheeks. I regret telling him about my crush on spencer. I told him to shut up, which just make him chuckle.

We talked for a few minutes about how Emily had almost immediately found a girl to flirt with and has been with her all night. And almost as if on cue, she walked in. We all teased her about her party crush for a few minutes, until the teasing turn onto me. I also regretted telling Emily about my crush.

I hadn't realized how much time had passed till Emily mentioned something about spencer being left alone for so long. A whole 30 minutes had passed since I had come upstairs and I immediately felt bad for ditching spencer for so long without a word. I quickly grabbed the 2 cups and bid them goodbye before hurrying off.

Getting through all the people took longer than before since I had to be extra careful as to not spill anything. I felt relieved when I finally reached the stairs to the basement. I was worried that spencer had been just sitting there for the past half an hour in silence. But my worries were quickly squandered as I saw him talking with a group of people who looked to be about our age. He had changed spots, now sitting criss-cross on the coffee table while all the other's surrounded him like it was story time.

"And I don't understand why leia kissed luke if she literally said in return of the jedi that she always knew he was her brother." Spencer babbled on as the people around hilm laughed loudly.

"Hey, spence." I saw his eye's light up when he saw me and he smiled wide.

"Y/n!" He threw his hands up, which caused him to almost fall backwards. He caught himself just in time and giggled a bit. It wasn't until I got closer to him that I noticed how red his eyes were. That, mixed with his odd behavior, it was clear he was not sober.

"Are you stoned?" I tried my best to contain my laughter, but it was funny watching him rock back and forth looking like he was really thinking about the question i just asked.

"Yes. No. I only had 2 brownies." He counted 2 on his fingers and held them up to me. The people he was talking to all started laughing and spencer joined in with them, probably not registering they were laughing at him.

"Ok, wanna come with me to a quiet place away from these people?" I leaned in closer to him, careful not to let the others hear. He doesn't say anything right away, just looks at me with an expression i couldn't place, but one that made my stomach flutter.

"Yes, please." He whispers back and stands up quickly. He sways back and forth for a moment before steady himself.

"We're gonna go somewhere else." Spencer tells the group and they all start booing in protest and all shouting disappointed "no's". Spencer seemed unbothered by them, but does say a quick apology regardless. I gestured for him to follow me as I stared walking away. He waved them goodbye before hurrying after me.

I lead him down a dimly lit hallway and into an unlocked room, which thankfully had no one in it. It appeared to be a guest room that was pretty empty, besides a queen bed, a night stand with a lamp and a rug.

"Those people were nice. They knew nothing about star trek though." Spencer sat down on the rug, returning to his criss-cross position.

"You do know there's a bed right there." I laughed, pointing to the bed that was right behind him. He shrugged.

"The rug looked softer." He said as he felt the rug. I took a seat next to him, putting the drinks off to the side. He looked completely out of it, like he was on a different planet.

"How are you feeling?" I asked and leaned back against the bed.

"Weird."

"I assume you've never been stoned before?" He shakes his head.

"I've read about the effects of marijuana, euphoria, altered perception, impaired memory and cognition. But It's so much different actually experiencing it first hand. It feels weird. I also probably shouldn't have ate 2 of those brownies. Brownies sound really good right now. Oh! Another effect of marijuana is increased appetite, or the "munchies" as they call it." He smacked his lips together, then licks them.

"My mouth is really dry." I couldn't help but laugh. This is definitely not how i expected this night to go. He turns to me as I laugh with a painfully cute expression that made my stomach flip. I reached for the cup of water i had gotten for him earlier and handed it to him.

"Here." I chuckled and he took it quickly. He didn't even look to see what was in the cup before downing the whole thing. Once he had finished, he whipped his mouth and put the cup down.

"Thank you. Your so kind." He turned to me and smiled gratefully. He looked absolutely beautiful in that moment. His hair was slightly messy, his eyes were glossed over and dreamy looking, his smile was simply adorable and the light was hitting him just right. His compliment made me blush and I turned away from his gaze. I felt him continue to stare at me.

"I'm sorry you're stuck taking care of me. I know you probably wanted to have fun tonight." His face had dropped and he sighed.

"It's ok, spence. I am having fun." I reassured him. Witnessing his first experience being high was admittedly very entertaining. He sighed again. He just looked at me in silence for a few moments, making me nervous.

"You're so amazing." He blurts out suddenly. His words took me by surprise and I felt my face heat up, probably now a light shade of pink.

"You're so pretty too. And caring, and smart, and funny, and pretty." His tone was light and distant, like he wasn't aware he wad saying all this out loud. That made me snap back to reality and remember that he was high. I felt a wave of disappointment hit me when I realized he was probably just saying all this stuff because he was stoned, not because he meant it.

"Ok, spence." I said dismissively and laughed a bit to hide my disappointment.

"I think you're the most amazing person I've ever met. I mean, there's a party happening right now and you choose to stay with me. You're always doing that, taking care of me. I think that's why I love you so much." The last part really caught my attention, my disappointment quickly dissipating and being replaced with shock.

Did he really just say that? I know I shouldn't take anything he says right now seriously, but admitting that he loves me seems pretty serious. I take a few seconds just to process what he had just said. I was sure he didn't mean it like that, I'm sure he meant as just a friend. But that didn't stop my heart from fluttering.

"What?" I finally said with a uncontrollable smile on my face. He turned to me, confused.

"What?"

"You just said you love me." His eyes widened and he shot up straight.

"What?!" He looked at me like a deer caught in headlights. He groaned, putting his head in his hands and shaking his head.

"Spence, it's ok. I know you didn't mean it like that." He sighed. He said something, but it was muffled by his hands.

"I can't hear you." He sighed again and lifed his head up so i could hear him clearer.

"I did mean it like that." He said, his voice quite and low. I couldn't believe what i had heard, so I just stared at him in shock for a moment. He glanced over to me when I didn't say anything for to long, groaning when he saw my shocked expression.

"Ugh, this is not how I wanted to tell you." He put his head back in his hands and slouched forward.

"I know you don't feel the same and we're just friends. I'm so sorry, y/n. You can forget I ever said that, i don't want it to be awkward or uncomfortable for you. I just-"

"Who said I didn't feel the same?" I cut him off before he got to in his head. He turned his head so face that I thought he'd get whipe lash, his red eyes wide in surprise.

"Wait, what?" The look on his face made me giggle.

"You're smart and funny and kind and you're insanely cute, you understand me in a way no one ever has. You're so passionate about your work and helping people. You're the most incredible, extraordinary person I've ever known. How could I not love you?" I felt a huge weight lift off my chest as I tell him everything I've wanted to say to him for so long. He just stares at me wide eyed, his mouth opening like he was about to say something, but then closing it again.

"I- what- wait- huh?" He stammered, making me laugh.

"I'm sorry, it must be the drugs or my own wishful thinking. But did you just say what I think you said?" A piece of hair fell onto his face, so I tucked it behid his ear. His face turned red and his mouth hung agape slightly.

"Maybe we should talk about this when you're sober."

"No, I want to talk about it now." He scooted closer to me. I was almost certain this is not how he wanted this conversation to go, him stoned out of his mind and in some random room in a random house. Of course I wanted to say it again, to tell him I love him and that I've loved him for years. But I'd rather tell him that when he can process more than 1/2 things at once.

"Later, when you're not baked like a cake." He laughed like it was the funniest joke he'd ever heard.

"'Baked like a cake'" He repeated after his laughter died down to a frequent giggle. His face suddenly turned more serious and he looked me right in the eye.

"Cake sounds so good right now." His face was so serious, like he had to have cake at that very moment or someone would kill his whole family. The intensity on his face was enough to make me burst into laughter. I had to look away from him to compose myself, so I didn't see him go to lay down. I felt his head rest on my thighs, the sudden contact taking me by surprise. I look down to see him turned away from me with his eye's closed.

After my initial shock disappeared, I hesitantly ran my fingers through his hair. He sighed in content and placed his hand on my knee. I smiled to myself as I continued to play with his hair.

"I'm tired." He mumbled. As if almost on cue, i felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I took it out to reveal a text from Derek. I chuckled as I read it over.

"Well you're in luck because Emily puked on a girl and now we're leaving." I tried to get up, but his head remained on my lap.

"Come on, spence. You gotta get up." He groaned in protest and gripped my leg to keep me in place.

"Don't wanna."

"Spencer." I said softly. I didn't want to move either, but unless we wanted to take a taxi home, we had to get up. He sighed before pushing himself up, his hair a complete mess. I reached over to fix it for him, combing his hair with my fingers. He looked at me like I was an angel on earth, his eyes fixed on me. Though the urge to pull him in right then was strong, but I had to get him home.

"Come on." I stood, reaching my hand out to help him up. I interlocked his hand with mine once he had stood up. I lead him out the door, back out to the basement, upstairs and through the crowd to the front yard where Derek was waiting for us.

"Hey, love birds." He smirked when he caught sight of our interlocked hands.

"Hi, Morgan. Do you have any snacks in your car?" Spencer asked. Morgan looked at him funny and smiled wide when he saw his red eyes.

"Are you baked?" Spencer giggled to himself before responding.

"Like a cake." He started laughing and Derek looked at me for answers.

"I'll tell you later." Derek nodded and walked over to his car, me and spencer following behind. Emily was already in the front seat, passed out. I felt bad for how she was going to feel in the morning.

The ride home was quiet, besides the occasional snore coming from Emily. I turned to Spencer to see him fighting off sleep, his eyes just slivers and struggling to keep his head up. I squeeze his hand to get his attention. He turned to me with tired eyes and I gestured for him to lean his head on my shoulder. He whispered a "thank you" before resting his head on my shoulder. We stayed that way till we reached Spencer's apartment complex.

I shook him slightly as we parked outside his building. His eyes opened slightly and he removed his head from my shoulder.

"Come on, I'll walk you inside." He gave me a tired smile. I escorted him out the car and into his building.

He talked about the book he was reading on the way up to his apartment, he barely making any sense as he did so. Once we reached his door he got quiet.

"You really meant it right?" He asked and I looked at him confused.

"Meant what?"

"What you said earlier." I smiled once I realized what he was talking about.

"Of course I meant it."

"Good. I meant it to." He smiled sweetly. I would've never imagined that spencer would like me back, or that I'd find out this way. But I'm happy regardless. I'm so happy. Spencer Reid, my best friend, loves me.

I cupped his cheek and leaned in to kiss his cheek. He looked at me wide eyed when I pulled away.

"Goodnight, spence."

"G'night." He muttered, his surprise still evident. I waved him goodbye before heading back down to the car.

The ride back to my place consisted of telling Morgan how spencer had managed to get high on accident and him telling me how Emily drank way to much, resulting in her throwing up all over the girl she'd been flirting with. I left out the love confession part to avoid any further torment that spencer would definitely have to endure from him at work.

As he talked about what had happened while me and spencer where in the basement, I thought about everything that had happened. My smile grew more and more as I replayed the events of tonight. Just then, I felt my phone buzz. My smile growing impossibly wide when I read the text on the screen.

*ate everything in my fridge. I love you.*

I laughed before typing my response.

*I love you too.*

~~~

A/n: first tumblr fic guys! This was longer then i expected so oopsies my b 🤗 anyways, hope you enjoyed!

[hadersversion]

II. i can fix him (no really i can)

“and i could see it from a mile away, a perfect case for my certain skillset.”

pairing: rafe cameron x innocent pogue! reader

word count: ?? (NOT PROOFREAD)

warnings: 18+ minors dni!! language, soft rafe cameron because my boy just needs some love, slow burn

masterlist!

it has been a week since my last interaction with rafe cameron.

"i'm here to see you."

those five words rang out through my head in every instance it possibly could. walking to work, brushing my teeth, getting ready for bed, in the shower. it felt like he was an annoying bug buzzing in my ear.

the bell to the gas station opens and i straighten my posture, trying to push the thoughts of rafe to the back of my head.

"hey, y/n." i see pope's head pop through the aisles as he searches for something.

i smile at him. "hey there, pope. what brings you in here today?"

i watch as he walks down each aisle, mentally scratching things off his list. "the guys and i are going on the boat today, i offered to buy some snacks."

"buying snacks could only mean one thing." i cock an eyebrow towards him.

"jj got some new weed." we say in unison, locking eyes and laughing.

pope brings up the item towards me, handing them to me to ring up. "well have fun and be safe out there. the total is $10.78 and tell jj that just because he sent you in does not mean i will give the discount." i point my finger.

pope holds his hands up and laughs. i turn around to grab a bag for his stuff as i hear the door open again. "it was worth a shot. you know i-" pope stops mid-sentence, almost like he was silenced.

"do i know what?" i turn around and see rafe standing behind pope, looking him up and down. out the window, i see john b and jj sticking their heads out in a protective manner. we both stay silent under rafe's cold glare. i quickly bag up the items, handing them over to pope. "y'all be safe out there." i force a smirk as i feel rafe's eyes on me.

pope nods and walks out of the store, hopping back in the van. john b shoots me a look, asking if i'll be okay with his eyes. i nod, signaling for him to go. i can see jj protest it.

rafe walks up, not saying a word. "what can i help you with today?" i say with a shaky voice.

he smiles slightly. "had to get gas, wanted to put $20 on pump 2."

i glare at him, narrowing my eyes at him. "really?"

he shrugs. "what? a man can't get gas for his truck?" he steps closer to the counter, his stomach touching up against it like he's trying to get closer to me.

i don't say a word, just shoot a quick look to see if the guys are still there.

they are.

it's like having three annoying brothers.

my eyes look back to rafe as he stares down at me. i rest my arms against the counter, trying not to blush. "i mean, technically, any person has the right to get gas. but you, rafe, never come over to this side of the island unless you're here to fuck around or mess with someone. so, i'm a little suspicious." i admit.

he licks his lips as he chuckles. "honesty?" he asks, similarly to the night we last spoke.

"you know i love it." i say, bluntly.

"just wanted to check in on my favorite pogue." he says in a whisper, sliding across the $20 bill. "and to get gas for my truck."

i feel like my body is on fire just from his glare. i take his money, without breaking eye contact. "you got it. $20 on pump 2." i repeat.

he smiles again and damn him for the effect it has over me. he looks over to my friends in the van and then back at me. "they don't seem to catch a hint, huh?' he waves at them jokingly, which jj does not seem to like.

"can you blame them? you came in here like the terminator or some shit." i say.

"have you ever seen the terminator?" he asks.

i rub the back of my neck, looking at my shoes. "uh, no."

"figures because that reference does not make any sense." he jokes, making me blush. i try to hide my face and he taps the counter. "come on, now, it was a joke. don't hide that pretty face away from me."

my heart skipped a beat as i felt my ears burn. the awkwardness i'm feeling is exuding from my body like it's leaking out of my pores. "w-whatever, you know what i mean. you don't always have to look so mean, ya know? acting like something crawled up your ass."

he lets out a breathe of air with a belly laugh. "don't pretend like you don't like it."

it's like he can see through me and i hate it. "y-you can go fill your tank now." i say, trying to ignore the tension he created.

"but i wanna stay here and talk with you some more." he looks me up and down.

"as fun as it would be, i'm on the clock. my pop would kill me if he knew i'm talking to boys when i should be working." i say to him.

he nods, looking around the store. "how about i take you out?"

all i can do is laugh.

what else is there to do in a situation like this?

he has to be joking. there is no way he's seroius.

"what's so funny?" he seems almost annoyed.

i shake my head, trying to calm my laughter down. "you...wanting to take me...out. that's a good one."

"i was being serious."

"and the sky is purple. oh! and unicorns are real." i say sarcastically.

he stands straight, his demeanor changing. "y/n, i wanna take you out. no jokes, no pranks, no bullshit."

i stand there, my expression dropping. "you're serious?" he nods, making me cross my arms. "why?"

"i-i don't know, because i want to get to know you? i don't know." he holds his arms up. my body seems to just shut down, unable to move or process anything. "y/n? hello?" rafe stands there impatiently.

"no." i say, flatly.

he sticks his head out, closing his eyes. "w-what?"

"no." i repeat.

"why?" he asks, now crossing his arms.

i turn around, grabbing items that need to be restocked. "for starters, because i can." i walk past him as he follows after me. "but most importantly, i was not born yesterday." i put the items back on the shelf as he looks at me. "listen, you are a very attractive guy. like super attractive. but, i know your end goal. i know you're only doing this to fuck with me and my friends. i appreciate the offer but no."

it pains me to say no when all i want to do is say yes, but i need to think with my head.

i expect him to retaliate, push back on what i said. but all he does is nod and back up. "understood. but respectfully, y/n, you will change your mind. might not be now or anytime in the future, but it'll happen." i look at him, he wears that same cocky expression he always does. "thanks for the gas, see you around."

i watch as he turns around, going out the door he came in.

he has something up his sleeve and i cannot tell if i'm excited or nervous for it.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

the sun slowly begins to rise over the ocean as i park my bike at the beach.

i take my sandals off, walking over the cool sand to my usual spot when i see a figure sitting there. i cant make out who it is. i clutch my bag closer to my body. no one is ever here this early with me.

as i walk closer, i see the blonde head that made my head swirl.

“rafe?” i ask.

“there you are. i was wondering if i got the wrong spot.” he says, calm and collected.

i just stare at him, unable to process what the hell is happening. “w-what are you doing here?”

he shrugs. “i’m here to watch the dolphins.”

my hands find my hips. “rafe.”

“what? it’s so hard to believe i came here to see the dolphins?” he says, causing me to cock my eyebrow and give him a suspicious look.

“actually it is very hard to believe. you waking up at the ass crack of dawn to watch dolphins? it’s a little strange.” i say to him. “especially given the last conversation we had. how did you even know where to find me?”

he shifts in his seat. “the first time we met.”

“what?”

“that day on the beach, you told me you were here to watch the dolphins. i watched you sit down and remembered this was the spot. your spot.” he admits.

i stand there, my heart fluttering in my chest. why is he so observant with me? “so you decided to come join me unannounced?” he nods at my question. “kinda creepy.”

i can see his face drop and he sighs, rubbing his jaw. “well, i can leave if you really want me to. i didn’t mean t-”

he cuts himself off when i open my bag and grab my towel, setting it down next to him. “no need, you’re already out here.” i place my stuff next to the towel and find my spot.

we sit beside each other in silence, staring out into the ocean ahead of us. the sky is a mixture of blue and yellow, radiating a soft filter onto our skins. there’s no sign of any life in the ocean, only the seagulls flying overhead. i play with a loose thread on the sleeve of my sweatshirt, trying to cope with this awkward tension between us when an idea pops into my head. i grab my strawberry shortcake lunchbox that i’ve had since i was a kid and open it. i hear rafe chuckle and i shoot him a dirty look before grabbing my blueberry muffin out of it. i unwrap it from its plastic and split it into two. “wanna go halfsies?”

he stares down at the pastry in my hand and softly grabs it. “t-thanks.” we eat in silence, looking everywhere and anywhere but at each other. “so you do this every day?” he asks and i nod. “even if it rains?” he looks over at me.

“sometimes, depending on the condition. it keeps me at ease. like a getaway.” i admit. “don’t you have something that you use to like…i don’t know. escape. forget about the world for a few hours?”

he sighs, his feet shuffling in the sand. “kind of? but it’s nothing as peaceful as this.”

“really? what is it?” i ask curiously.

he laughs softly to himself and shakes his head. “it’s uh….it’s something to take the edge off i guess.”

i look at him, trying to connect the dots. “what is it?”

he closes his eyes and shakes his head. he looks like he wants to tell me but holds back. “how long have you been doing this?” he changes the subject rather quickly.

i’m taken aback by the sudden change but i can tell it’s something he’d rather not talk about it. a dirty little secret, perhaps. “hmm, well…probably when i was in 5th grade? middle school was…rough to say the least.” i let out a light laugh. “home life got rough, the usual shit. i was at a sleepover for this girl who invited me as a joke and i just couldn’t sleep. so i got on my bike and rode around the island, not sure where to go. it was too early to head home and nothing was opened yet, so i sat on the beach. that’s when i saw how calm it was.”

rafe just stares at me, a neutral expression on his face. “wow.”

i suddenly realized how much baggage i just dropped on him. my face heated up as i tried to collect my scrambled thoughts. “sorry, i didn’t mean to like…dump on you.” i stammer out.

rafe gently puts his hand on my knee, trying to pull me back to earth. “hey, hey, it’s all good. no need to apologize. we all got our shit.” he reassures me. “i’m just…i don’t know? glad…you felt comfortable enough to tell me about that.”

i stare at his hand on my knee. his fingers running slow circles into it, giving me the comfort i needed in that second. “i usually am not so open about this shit. i find it better to keep bottled up.” i say truthfully.

“i’m with you on that one, believe me.” a comfortable silence falls between us, our eyes meeting and staying connected. it feels as though we are the only two people in existence right now. his hand still rests on my leg as my breath hitches. i can feel his face moving in closer to me. do i want him to kiss me? yes. absolutely. 100%. but the voice in my head was screaming at me to stop.

what would your friends do if they saw you like this? this is rafe fucking cameron. you can’t be kissing the enemy. he’s the definition of BAD NEWS.

it pounded in my head until our noses touched and i closed my eyes tight.

i can’t.

i quickly turn away, looking back out to the ocean. my chest rising up and down, the almost kiss making me loose my breathe. “look! there’s a few now!” it was my turn to change the subject.

i don’t turn my head back to him. just staring straight ahead, trying not to replay what almost happened. he just stays there, in the same position. i can hear him blow out a breathe of air and shake his head, turning towards the direction i’m talking about. “oh shit, that’s cool.” he says monotone.

the sun is fully risen above our heads, the temperature is rising and the beach is slowly welcoming more visitors. rafe and i haven’t said a word since the kiss that was so close to happening.

i slowly start to gather my things, cleaning off the sand from my legs. rafe copies me, wiping the sand off of him. we walk up the path, i’m cautiously looking around to see if any of my friends are around. i can see rafe just staying at his feet. we walk up to bike stand and pause.

“let me give you a ride home.” he offers.

i shake my head. “i live in the complete opposite direction of you, it wouldn’t make any sense. i really appreciate it though.”

he stands there, giving me a stern look. “wouldn’t be very gentleman like if i didn’t. i really don’t mind.” i look at my bike and back at him. he’s almost pleading with me to accept the ride. “c’mon.”

i won’t lie and say his puppy dog look didn’t have any effect on me. i sigh, giving in. “fine.” he walks my bike over to his truck, loading it into the bed. i then walk over to the passenger door but he beats me to it, opening it for me. i blush slightly and laugh. “and they say chivalry is dead.” rafes body is dangerously close to mine, i can feel him looking down at me.

“clearly they haven’t met me yet.” he winks back.

the car ride is quiet, yet again.

there’s millions of things we probably want to say to each other but just can’t bring ourselves to do so. so we let it consume us.

i stare out the window as we drive deeper into the island and into the cut. when rafe finally pulls up to my house, he looks over at me and back to my house. i expect a dirty look. one of disgust or even pity. but he doesn’t, shockingly, he just has a soft look on his face. “thank you for letting me drive you home.” he says to me.

“i should be thanking you. saved me a few mile bike ride.” i chuckle. his eyes stare into mine, yet again. i could get lost in those baby blue but i have to fight the urge.

he licks his lips smoothly and nods. “let me get your bike.” he hops out of the truck and runs around to my side of the truck, opening my door for me yet again. i stand there awkwardly as he grabs my bike. “where do you want me to put this?”

“over there is fine.” i point next to my front door. he nods and sets it down. he walks back up to me and stands there. we both don’t know what to say. “thanks for dropping by today, even though it was creepy and unexpected.” i joke.

he laughs and nods his head. “yeah, yeah. don’t pretend you didn’t like my company.” he nudges my shoulder. “i just…i wanted to spend sometime with you.” he admits. “as corny as it sounds.”

“rafe…” i trail off, knowing where this is going to leave.

“y/n, it’s fine. i don’t want to push you or make you uncomfortable. i just…i want to get to know you. i don’t know, i don’t think that’s so wrong?” he says.

he’s right, it’s not so wrong. but…he’s him and i’m me. it just won’t work.

“still not completely convinced this isn’t apart of some plot to completely eliminate the pogues.” i say.

“well i guess i have to earn your trust.” he says to me softly.

i look up at him and smile. “i’ll see you around.”

“i’m counting on it.” he says.

i walk into my door, turning around to wave at him. he hangs on the side of his opened door, waving back with a smile on his face. i’ve seen rafe smile more times today than my entire life knowing him.

once i get inside, i hear his truck pull off and i let out a big sigh of air i didn’t know i was keeping. my skin felt like it was on fire, my mind racing a mile a minute. was i finally seeing rafe cameron as a human being? a human being that i want to spend time with? laugh with? have memories with?

i had to be going crazy. there had to be something in my water. or in the air.

or maybe, just maybe….rafe cameron was a good guy after all. or a guy that could be good with a little bit of help from me.

tag list: @readingsmuts @saranred @kikixdee @drewsdirtyslut @ephermally @personaswrld @ymnizuh @lillywildly @anaheimd101 @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @thewitchesofart @ditzyzombiesblog @gothamgurl2024

[anakinca]

Hands down Anakin hates cold and showers in such hot water 😭😭 that boy needs to feel warm and would just curl into a caterpillar under the duvet to keep himself warm or just use us as his own personal teddy bear :((

—❝entirely yours❞

anakin skywalker x reader

tw ; nothing, just pure fluff

a/n ; AFTER 700 YEARS OF TRYING TO POST THIS, IT WORKED 😭😭 BUT ANYWAYS, i loved this prompt so SO much !! i was literally going to write something for this so i was so excited when i saw u requested this !! for anyone who's waiting on their request, i promise i'm working on them !! enjoy, angels <3

THE NIGHT HAD SETTLED LIKE A QUIET BLANKET OVER CORUSCANT. It was the kind of cold that seeped into every corner of the bedroom despite the hum of the heater. Outside, the city glowed faintly, the lights casting a hazy reflection on the large, fogged-up windows. But inside, the world was smaller, softer—a sanctuary where warmth existed in the form of tangled limbs and whispered words. Anakin emerged from the bathroom, a billow of steam following him like he’d walked straight out of the sun. His damp curls stuck to his forehead, and his skin glowed pink, flushed from the borderline scalding shower he insisted on taking every single time. Yet, as he padded barefoot across the room, he was already hugging his black, lounge robe to him tighter, a pout forming on his lips. "It's so cold," he muttered dramatically, collapsing onto the bed with a sigh as if he’d just returned from a harrowing battle in the Outer Rim—which, well, he had. You glanced at him, barely holding back a smile. "Anakin, you were in there for almost half an hour. I’m pretty sure you evaporated half the planet’s water supply. How are you still cold?" He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, with an exaggerated groan, he burrowed under the duvet, pulling it over his head in one swift motion. Only his eyes peeked out, glinting like little pools of mischief and complaint. He then turned his head toward you, his pout visible even beneath the layers of blankets. "The galaxy is cruel," he muttered, as if the cold itself was some personal offense against him. "You’re ridiculous," you teased, shaking your head as you turned back to what you were doing. But before you could take another step, a hand shot out from under the duvet—warm, surprisingly strong—and wrapped around your wrist. "Don’t you dare," he said, his voice muffled but insistent. In one quick movement, he pulled you onto the bed, wrapping the blanket around you both like you were part of his personal plan to survive the cold. "Anakin!" You yelped, laughing as you were unceremoniously bundled into his cocoon of warmth. "Shhh," he whispered as his lips curved up at the corners, already pulling you closer. His arms wrapped around you like you were the only source of heat in the galaxy, his face pressing into the crook of your neck. "You’re warm. Stay here." His curls tickled your cheek as he buried himself further against you, his body clinging to yours like a loth-cat determined to find the coziest spot in the galaxy. You could feel his breath against your skin, warm and steady, and his sigh of contentment made your chest ache with affection. "You know," you murmured, your fingers threading gently through his still-damp hair, "you could try wearing a shirt, or maybe putting on some socks. Normal people solutions, you know?" He tilted his head up to look at you, his blue eyes sparkling with teasing and something infinitely softer. "A shirt can’t hug me back," he said simply, his lips curling into that lopsided smirk that never failed to make your heart skip. "And socks don’t kiss me goodnight." Your cheeks burned hotter than the heater you’d accused him of overusing, but before you could respond, he tightened his hold on you, pulling you so close you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest—like he’s scared you’d disappear if he didn’t. "You’re the only warmth I need," he murmured, his voice so soft it felt like a secret. The way he clung to you was something you’d never get used to—not out of awkwardness, but out of the sheer intensity of it. His affection for you felt like it bordered on reverence, as if you were the only thing tethering him to the world when everything else spun too fast—and if only you knew that was exactly the case. The intensity of his affection never ceased to take your breath away. In his arms, the galaxy seemed smaller, quieter, like nothing could reach you here. You traced your fingers lightly along his bare back, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch.

"Honestly, you’re impossible," you whispered, though your words carried no real complaint.

"And you’re perfect," he countered immediately, his voice muffled as he pressed a gentle kiss to your collarbone. "I mean it. You’re my sun. My own personal heater."

You laughed softly, shaking your head at his dramatics, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable. "I won’t run away if you let your grip loosen a little, you know." You teased gently, massaging his back lightly.

He hummed, his breath fanning over your skin as he nuzzled closer. "Good," he said, his voice already thick with sleep. "Because I’m keeping you forever."

"Forever sounds nice," you murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, his thick lashes fluttering closed from the action.

Outside, the cold night carried on, but it didn’t matter. The world beyond your little cocoon could have been as frozen as Hoth, and you wouldn’t have noticed. 

Anakin’s breathing slowed, his body fully relaxing against yours as sleep began to overtake him. Even in his sleep, his arms remained locked around you, holding you close like the warmth of your presence was the only thing keeping him grounded to the moment.

You brushed a stray curl from his face, and held him just a little tighter. And as you closed your eyes, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours, you couldn’t help but smile.

Anakin Skywalker might hate the cold, but you secretly loved how it made him cling to you like this—soft, vulnerable, and entirely yours.

@thesassypadawan @anakinstwinklebunny @sydkneez @dessxoxsworld @nikiloveshayden @sweetcheesecakesblog @throughparisallthroughrome

let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the tag list, angels <3

[mountttmase]

Don’t Get Caught

Note - lil bit of cheeky dad Mase to round off our Monday. I hope you’re all good and I hope you enjoy this 🩷 smut has not been smutting for me in a while so let’s see 😂 feedback would be appreciated 😘

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 3k

Warnings - smut

‘So it’s just a shed?’

‘No Mason, it’s not just a shed’ Declan huffed. Annoyed by Mason downplaying his new purchase that he was proudly showing the pair of you around. Not that you could see much as it was dark outside and for the most part his new summer house was just an empty shell bar some cupboards. ‘I’ve got someone coming tomorrow to wire the electrics so the lights work, then I’m getting a tv installed, a mini fridge, like you name and I’ll probably have it, it’s gonna be immense’

‘What does Lauren think of all this?’ You asked, shining your torch round so you could see more of the space but it really was a work in progress right now.

‘She’ll have her section too, don’t worry. And I’m getting her one of those outdoor sofa set things she’s always wanted to go by the hot tub outside, plus a new swing for Jude. They’ll love it’

You were about to ask another question when his phone began to ring, Lauren’s photo flashing up on the screen but the more she spoke the more displeased his face became until he was hanging up with a huff.

‘Ah for fucks sake, Madders has thrown up in the guest room, I need to go and kick his arse’ he sighed, his hand running over his face like he didn’t want to deal with it and you couldn’t say you didn’t blame him as you tried to hold in a laugh.

‘Sounds grim’ Mason chuckled, making his way over to you in the dark and holding you at your waist. ‘We’ll be back in soon, yeah? I just wanna have a look round a bit more’

‘Yeah yeah take your time, I’ll see you inside later’ Dec mumbled before leaving the pair of you alone. Watching him trudge back to the house with his shoulders slumped before you turned to Mason who you could just about make out in the dark.

‘Look round what, Mason? It’s a shed with a counter and a few cupboards’ you asked, turning in his grip and resting your hands on his chest as he pulled you closer and even in the dark you could see his pretty smile.

‘I don’t think Dec would be too happy if he heard you say that’ He laughed and you rolled your eyes playfully. ‘What do you think anyway? Would you like a summer house?’

‘Maybe’ you shrugged. Trying to imagine something similar in your own garden. ‘Would be fun to have movie nights with Ollie in something like this, like we could get blankets and those big bean bags things. Maybe some nice fairy lights so we can get all cozy’

‘You could also use it as somewhere when you need some time away from the boys’ he winked, pulling away from you as he took a better look around and it clicked in your brain that what he meant by it.

‘Oh I see, you just want it for you’ you laughed and he knew he’d been caught out as you heard him try to contain his giggles. ‘Come on, what would you have in here then?’

‘Well I’d get a tv definitely, and I like the idea of a mini fridge…’ Mason started but you didn’t listen to the rest of it. The thought of the three of you all snuggled under a blanket in something similar in your own home made your heart thump and the need to check Ollie was okay washed over you.

Ollie was at home with Lewis, the latter staying for a few days as he had a few appointments with Mason he needed to plan and it was always easier to do it when they were together rather than over the phone. Thankfully he was more than happy to look after Ollie for the evening so you and Mason could go to the joint birthday party that Dec was throwing at his house for the pair of them.

Lewis hadn’t texted and he was under strict instructions not to unless there was an emergency so the pair of you could have some time out, but you missed your little boy and you needed to check on him. Your finger hovering over the call button but before you could press it you felt Masons hands at your waist again.

‘Are you even listening to me?’ He laughed, shaking you slightly until you looked at him and you could tell from the look in his eye he knew what you were doing.

‘Sorry Mase’ you sighed, holding your phone to your chest as he pulled you closer. ‘I just wanted to check in and make sure Ollie is alright’

‘He’s probably asleep baby, Lewis knows what he’s doing’

‘I know, I just wanted to be sure’

‘Hand it over’ he smirked, laying his palm out flat for you to put your phone into but you just shook your head and held it closer to your chest.

‘No Mase it’s fine, I’ll keep it away’

‘Why don’t you turn it off?’

‘Yeah Mase, real sensible’ you laughed, rolling your eyes as you put it back in your bag as Mason placed a kiss on your forehead.

‘Come on, Ollie is fine. I know it’s weird being without him but why don’t we take our minds off it a bit?’ He shrugged, not picking up on the cheeky tone to his voice at the end but you were curious about what he was going to suggest.

‘How?’

‘You wanna play a game?’ He asked, backing you up against the cupboards just behind you and you let him do it until you couldn't move anymore. Your bum hitting the top of the counter and you looked up at him curiously.

‘Depends, what did you have in mind?’

‘A little one I like to call, don’t get caught’ he whispered whilst hiking you up to sit on the counter by your thighs. ‘Never played it before but I thought it might be fun’ he smiled as he squeezed your thighs. ‘I’ve been thinking about it all day’

‘Mason’ you warned but he just smiled and kissed you heavily. Knowing he pretty much always got his way in situations like this and your resolve would crumble soon enough.

‘Come on baby, I know you want to’ he teased before kissing you again and when Mason kissed you like this you knew exactly what it meant. ‘I haven't had you in days and I won’t be able to again for a while’

He was right. He’d been away for a few days for a game and tomorrow he’d be off again for a training camp so tonight was really the only time you had to be physical. You just thought it would come later on when the pair of you were in bed not outside in the middle of Decs new purchase.

‘You know I’ll make it worth your while, baby’ he whispered. Lips ghosting your jaw before he playfully bit your earlobe and when his kisses started to travel down your neck you felt your body turn to jelly.

‘Won’t everyone be able to see?’ You asked, looking towards the floor to ceiling sliding glass doors that were just to the right of you and you gulped nervously.

‘We can barely see each other, gorgeous. Don't worry I won’t let anyone see you, you’re for my eyes only yeah?’

‘Okay’ you whispered. Letting him kiss you again as you gave into his desires as in this moment you wanted him just as much.

‘I’m gonna make you feel so good you’ll forget your own name, pretty girl’ he whispered against your lips and even though his sentiment made you smile you knew he meant it. When Mason had had a bit to drink his mouth tended to run away with him and when you were being intimate it was no different. This version of Mason liked to talk you through it. To pull the strings and tease you into oblivion until you were a mess beneath him and you knew if he got his way tonight you’d be in for a wild ride

Before you knew it, you felt his fingers trail over your thighs and under your dress. Gripping your bum so he could pull you forward and rest you just on the edge of the counter but thankfully it wasn’t very wide and you were able to lean back and rest against the wall as his fingers danced over the front of your underwear.

‘You can’t tell me you don’t tell me you don’t want this, you’re dripping for me’ he growled, fingers circling just where you needed them over your underwear and it only took a beat for you to start grinding your hips to meet his movements. ‘See, there we go. You know exactly what to do don’t you?’

You let him tease you a little while longer as he kissed you roughly but soon enough he was finally pushing your dress up higher and gripping the top of your underwear so he could pull them from your legs. The cold air hitting you and making you hiss before you could just about make out him stuffing the black lace into his back pocket.

‘Hands on my shoulders baby, need you to hold on tight yeah?’ He told you, hearing him pull down the zip on his trousers and shuffle his boxers about just enough to free himself and you clenched around nothing in anticipation of what you were about to do.

As soon as you felt his tip pushing against your entrance his lips were on yours. Swallowing your moans as he eased himself into you slowly but you were surprised about how easy it was since there was no foreplay involved and you were just getting straight down to business.

He still took his time though. Moving slowly in and out of you so you could both adjust and the small whimpers and moans falling from both of your lips just egged the other on until your brain was foggy with pleasure.

‘Remember when we first met, you told me you were a good girl’ he spoke against your lips before kissing along your jaw softly. ‘I’m not so sure i believe you anymore’

‘I’m a good girl for you’

‘And only me, right?’ he sighed, resting his forehead on yours as he kept his pace steady. ‘You’re mine, and you’re always gonna be mine’

‘Masey’

‘What is it baby? What does my good girl want?’

‘Harder please’ you whimpered, wanting him to lose control a little bit as you knew he was holding back until you were comfortable but you were ready to have all of him now.

‘Yeah? You think you can take it’ he asked, hands grabbing your wrists so he could tug them away from his shoulders and before you knew it he had your wrists crossed above your head. Holding them together with one hand so they were against the wall whilst his other hand gripped your waist to hold you still. His hips picking up pace just like you wanted him to and you let a loud moan slip past your lips.

‘So fucking innocent but just look at you. Begging for me like this’ he growled, his words making your tummy flip but you couldn’t answer as he moved his hand to rest on your lower stomach before applying a little pressure. You knew he could feel himself inside of you from the profanities that were falling from his lips but the new sensation had rendered you speechless as your eyes rolled back in your head.

‘You love that I’m fucking you in here don’t you, I bet you want the whole world to see’ he grunted. His thumb now moving back to circle over you as he still applied pressure to your tummy and you almost screamed from how good you felt. ‘Want everyone to know how good I give it to you and how good you can take it’

‘Mase, please’ you cried, so overwhelmed with everything he was giving you that they were the only two words you could remember right now but he just carried on snapping his hips back and forth deliciously.

‘Thats it, say my name. Tell everyone who’s making you feel this good’

You felt Masons hand move away from you, giving you a bit of needed relief as you felt like you were about to explode but you saw him reaching into the back pocket of his jeans until he pulled out his phone.

‘Mase? W-what are you doing?’

‘Shhhh it’s okay. I just need it, need to remember what you feel like when I’m away next week’ he stuttered. ‘My eyes only, remember? You trust me?’

‘With everything’ you whispered back. Recording each other was something you’d never done before but you couldn’t deny the idea made your tummy flutter and you did trust him. He was your husband and the father of your child after all but even though this new idea scared you slightly it also thrilled you.

‘Good girl’ he chuckled, smiling as he placed a reassuring kiss to your lips, promising again it was just for him before he pointed the camera down to where the pair of you met started to record himself slipping in and out of you. The whole act turning you on more than you thought it would and the moans that left your lips were sinful.

‘Look at you, can’t get enough can you?’ he whispered, looking up to see his face slightly illuminated from the light on his phone and the first thing you noticed was how wild his eyes were. ‘You feel so unreal’

‘Masey, I’m so close’

‘I know gorgeous’ he whispered. Shutting his phone off so you were both in darkness again and his free hand returned to your waist to hold you still. ‘I need you to hold it for me though yeah? Just for a minute, okay?’

‘Mase’

‘I know I know, I’ll make it worth your while though, I promise’ he told you. Finally lowering your arms back onto his shoulders so he could get a better grip on you and your fingers got lost in his hair as he rested his forehead on yours again. ‘Just wait for me, yeah?’

‘Okay’ you whimpered. Trying your best to hold off but it was difficult and the way Mason was moaning into your mouth didn’t make it any easier.

‘That’s my girl’ he grunted, eventually hiding his face in your neck so he could focus on reaching his high but as the seconds went on you felt like you were about to explode as his lips connected with your sweet spot.

‘Go on baby, let go for me’ he told you, keeping his pace steady until your high rippled through you. Letting him continue to talk in your ear until he was softly biting your shoulder as he came undone himself.

It was quiet for a few moments, just the sound of your breathing mixed together as you caught your breath with your heads hidden away from each other but soon enough he was looking back up at you with a shy smile on his face.

‘That video, I can delete it if you want me too. I just got caught up in the moment I’m not sure what came over me’ he chuckled. Tucking some stray hairs behind your ear before kissing your forehead softly.

‘No it’s okay, you can keep it. As long as it gets hidden somewhere’

‘Really? You don’t mind?’

‘Well I prefer the thought of you watching me rather than random people on a weird website’ you laughed, cupping his jaw so you could place a gentle kiss on his lips before he quickly grabbed his phone again.

‘It’s gone straight into my hidden, yeah?’ He showed you, using the Face ID to show you its new home and you blushed as you caught sight of the multiple pictures of you in your underwear he also kept in that folder. ‘Under lock and key along with all my other naughty photos of you’

‘You’re terrible’ you laughed, your breath catching as he finally slipped out of you but he was quick to kiss you again before he readjusted himself and did his trousers back up.

‘And you are the love of my life. Thank you for playing along’

‘Let’s just hope Dec doesn’t find out what we’ve done’ you laughed, letting him help you down onto the floor as he adjusted your dress but your legs were still shaky for your high and you had to grip Mason’s arm for support. ‘Can I have my underwear back now?’

‘I’ll think about it’ he winked and with one final kiss you made your exit and rejoined the rest of the party.

[planet-dusk]

i sent this skz x 9th member!reader to another creator but forgot who it was so i’m sending it here too i guess. enjoy

i féel like the boys would def be little pervs towards their girl member. like “cuddling” her in the car on the way to places, having her sit in their lap during lives and stuff, constantly watching her boobs in tank tops during practice, etc something tells me chan or minho would be the biggest pervs out of the older boys but they know how to be subtle with it. meanwhile jisung and maybe jeongin are the the young ones who go absolutely crazy over anything. like her boobs could be out a little bc her tops are flimsy so they grab a handful and are lowkey fondling her but using the excuse that it’s helping keep her boobs in her bra or something. she’d def be very clueless but not entirely. like she knows that bc she’s a girl and they’re all guys, they have urges too. walking around the house in short and tight clothes, asking sexual questions, singing and dancing to sexy songs, etc they’d probably have a corruption kink too because of her “innocent but not really” aura. she’s innocent in the way that she’s just clueless when anyone so much as hits on her, likes her, try’s to make a move, etc

idk this was a while ago so maybe it’s just ramblings from my brain.

🏷️ perversion, noncon somno for jisung's part, corruption, fingering, oral (f + m), masturbation, unprotected sex, mc is called baby, kitten, doll, pretty, toy, slut

as the oldest and the leader of the group chan should know better. but you're so cute when you wake up early and your eyes are still puffy with sleep. he can't help but let his gaze linger on your bare legs, picturing his face between your thighs. sometimes when you join him on channie's room he'll run his teasing fingers over your clothed slit, enjoying the way you squirm and hide your hot face in your hands, pretending you're camera shy.

"keep still, baby. you know how much the fans love it when you look all cute and flustered."

minho is always helpful, offering you private dance lessons to hone your skills. he can be strict with the other members but he's noticed how embarrassed you get when he praises you. "you're doing so well, kitten," he whispers into your ear while he adjusts your position. you avert your eyes and try to focus on the way your body moves. he's smirking at you through the mirror, his hands skimming your ass more than necessary. when you're all warmed up and sweaty he bends you over and grinds his hard cock against your clothed pussy. "let's stretch some more."

"i know you can do it," changbin encourages when your voice cracks again. he turns off his laptop and enters the recording booth. "hey, don't cry," he wipes your tears away with his thumbs and you sniffle. you're fucking up your lines. badly.

"do you trust me?" he asks and you nod, letting him spread your legs. with a puzzled face you watch him crouch down and nuzzle the inside of your thigh. "you just need to relax, baby... you're straining too much when you get anxious. let me help you."

hyunjin is your roommate. he's a calm and quiet guy so you don't mind having him around. but on some nights you wake up to muffled gasps and groans coming from his side of the room. if you didn't know any better you'd have sworn some of his moans sound like your name. afraid to let him know you're awake you stay quiet and stare at the ceiling. your own hand slips into your pyjama pants to rub quick circles on your swollen clit, desperate to cum in time with him.

"ssh, it's me," jisung shushes you with a hand clasped over your mouth. you blink at him groggily, feeling two of his fingers slipping in and out of your wet hole with ease. he must've been playing with you for a while. "hyunjin's taking a shower and told me to wake you up." he snuggles against your back and you gasp into his palm when he replaces his fingers with his thick cock. "be a good doll for me now, pretty. we don't have much time before he comes back."

felix is the first to turn your relationship with them into something more than strictly collegial. "we're not colleagues, or friends, or family," he tugs you onto his lap and purrs into your ear, "we're something more." his fingers reach into your shorts and press against your clothed slit, making your head spin. "feel how soaked these panties are for me, doll? you know i'm telling the truth. what we've got is something special."

seungmin is your vocal training partner. when you stay late in the studio to practice he stays with you. his unconventional training methods are your little secret; he'd told you the others can't know a thing because they would get jealous, so you do as told. seungmin makes you feel special. you know he'd do everything for his favorite member.

"sluts like you need to have their throats trained," he groans and thrusts his cock deeper. "how else are you ever going to hit those notes?"

jeongin can never keep his hands off you when you're getting dressed for your stages. he gropes at your tits and tugs on your clothes. "these skirts keep getting shorter," he shakes his head and frowns. "everyone in the audience will be able to see your safety shorts. but you know you belong to us, don't you?" he grins and you squeal when his fingers slip between your thighs and locate your clit with ease. the barest hint of pressure against the fabric has you panting, proving his point. "no matter how many people cheer for you, you're our toy."

[lilyisclueless]

When they realize they’re in love - Geto Suguru

How I imagine the boys get hit with the realization that they love you. This one is for Suguru, but I eventually will do the others <3

Pairing: Geto Suguru x reader

Tags: Fluff, mentions of/implied depression

It was a few months ago when it all started. You came to him randomly one day, greeting him with a soft knock on his door before he allowed you in. He remembers almost ignoring the quiet tap tap tap but couldn’t bring himself to when he heard your angelic, timid voice. It was so unlike you to be so nervous, and despite the turmoil he was going through, he was worried.

You walked through his doors, nervously shuffling your feet as you avoided his gaze. You seemed so nervous, and he had no idea what until your words took him by surprise.

“Can… Can we cuddle? I’ve been feeling bad lately and I don’t know… if it’s okay, of course.”

How could he have refused you back then? With your cheeks a little red and shyly glancing up at him? And when he asked why him, why not Satoru, you scoffed, as if he offended you by the mere suggestion. Then you told him that you felt safe with him, and you knew he wouldn’t tease you about it or hold it against you, and he couldn’t argue with that.

It quickly became routine for the two of you to cuddle throughout the day. Any time the both of you weren’t on a mission, you were in his arms. At first, he thought he would be bothered by it, but you never spoke. You never made light conversation. The two of you enjoyed each other's company in a silent embrace. And while he was only doing it for you, a part of him needed it too after everything.

He tried not to think about it too much.

Then came the nightmares. You told him lately you’ve been having nightmares, and asked if you could stay with him. Again, how could he say no? You were on par with Satoru when it came to importance, the two of you one half to make him whole - he, himself, just an empty husk.

That was an immediate change. The first time he had you wrapped in his arms, softly breathing into his collarbone while he rested his face on the top of your hair, breathing in your sweet shampoo, it was over. He was grateful you felt the same since you came to his room on your own accord every night without him ever having to ask. Not that he would have, which is all the more reason to be grateful for you.

Part of him had been worried for you. You never spoke about what was wrong. You held yourself well, never seeming like anything was going on. Unlike him, who he felt was obvious he was falling apart by the dark circles under his eyes. You made everything more bearable, but it didn’t fix it.

At least until one night, when he thought he would have an overnight mission. He rarely did those anymore because he worried for you (and he selfishly didn’t want to sleep without you either). He managed to get through the mission a lot faster than he thought, and he came to the dorms a little before midnight. You claim that you can’t sleep without him, so he was surprised to find you snuggled up in bed and resting peacefully.

He decided he didn’t want to disturb you and left to go back to his quiet room that still smelled strongly of you. It felt so empty without you, but who was he to disturb you when you finally were able to sleep on your own? He knew eventually you would, and so he got a very, very restless sleep that night.

It wasn’t until earlier this morning he was hit with a strange realization. You’ve been lying.

It wasn’t serious or anything. You greeted him happily, surprised to see him, and told him that you missed him last night, then casually spoke about how you could barely sleep without him. You seemed pretty peaceful last night to him. You could’ve easily woken up later through the night, it wasn’t like he stood there watching you. However, maybe it was just his gut, or maybe he was just a suspicious person in general, but something told him to question you further.

He asked when you fell asleep, and you said you didn’t get any sleep until way past midnight.

He wasn’t mad necessarily. Just… confused? Perplexed? Because why lie? He later asked Shoko about your nightmares, because while you didn’t tell him things, he knew you talked to Shoko. She had no idea what he was talking about. To be fair, maybe you just didn’t talk to her either, but he highly doubted it.

So now here the two of you are, silently enjoying each other again while he tries to decipher your actions. When the two of you first started cuddling, you had been the little spoon. Somewhere along the way, you claimed that being the big spoon made you feel better. That having him lay across your chest made you feel safe, but getting to hold him and run your fingers through his hair made you feel a little less weak. Like you were protecting him. He didn’t argue with your logic, happy to oblige to anything you wanted.

So that’s how the two of you are currently; you resting against the headboard of his bed with him draped on top of you. Usually, you’d be lying on the bed with his face resting against your collarbone, but today you were in a sitting position and he was laying on his back with hush head on your lap. He was staring up at you, trying to figure you out, while you lazily ran your fingers through his hair. You’re reading a book, but you glance over it to peer down at him.

“Something on your mind?” You ask, gently pushing a strand of his hair out of his face and down with the rest of his hair.

“You don’t have nightmares, do you?” He blurts out. He didn’t mean to ask that, a part of him that he tried to ignore was scared it would all end.

You froze, your hand going stiff against his face. You stare down at him with big doe eyes, and he wonders if you would try to deny it. After a moment, you close the book you’re reading and set it aside with a sigh.

“No I don’t…”

Just like he thought. So why? Why did you tell him those excuses? It wasn’t like he was mad, but why? Before he could ask, you beat him to it.

“Please don’t be mad, I just… you’ve seemed so tired. So… gone. And anytime I tried to talk to you about it, you shut me out. And I had a feeling that I’d I asked if you needed a hug, you’d say no… so I told you I needed it instead.”

It all clicked then. He remembers the way you constantly tried to check on him. How he would always brush off your concerns, tell you ‘I’m fine’ and wave you away. It wasn’t long after that you came to him with a bad day.

It makes sense now. The way you never seemed sad. The reason why you asked to be a big spoon. How you only talked when he talked. Why you always brought his favorite snacks, and always cleaned up after - because you knew he was too depressed to keep his room clean.

You told him keeping it clean made you feel better. You told him doing laundry took your mind off things. You said you liked to cuddle in a well-made bed. It suddenly all clicked into place.

You weren’t trying to feel better and keep your mind off things. You've been taking care of him, and you had somehow convinced him that he was taking care of you.

You had been rambling for a moment now, and he vaguely heard you try to explain yourself and apologize, asking him to please not be mad. His heart was pounding so loudly that he could barely understand what you were saying. All he knew was that you looked so pretty like that; feeling guilty that you tricked him just so you could take care of him. Not because he asked. Not because you needed to. Because you wanted to. He could feel a strong prickling sensation at the corner of his eyes, his heart squeezing in his chest while the sensation of butterflies overtook his stomach - something he hadn’t felt before.

He quickly picks himself up from your lap, and you weakly protest against it, afraid that he is mad at you. Instead, he flips himself over so he is no longer on his back but instead his chest facing you. He grabs your waist, gently but firmly yanking you down into a lying position. You yelp his name in surprise, but he ignores you to instead bury his face into the nook of your shoulder. He wraps his arms around you, and he squeezes you tightly for a moment. Your arms linger above him, almost like you’re suddenly afraid to touch him.

“Can we keep doing this?” He asks, and he hates the way his voice almost cracks. He knows you could probably feel the slowly growing wetness seeping through your shirt, unable to stop the tears he’s been denying for so long. He doesn’t know why he suddenly feels so small, so broken. He knows he’s been this way for a while, but he never allowed himself to feel it like this.

Then your arms were around him again, running a comforting hand up and down his back. He accepts that it’s for him this time, and suddenly it feels so much more significant. He’s always appreciated you doing this deep down, but now? Now it feels almost healing.

“Of course. For as long as you need, Suguru. You’re not alone,” you whisper softly to him. You bury your face into his hair, and his heart leaps when you press a fleeting kiss to his soft strands.

“…And if I need you forever?” He was hesitant to say that. He’s not sure if he’s always felt this way and his emotions have just been clouding his feelings, or if the realization of how much you care about him made them suddenly appear, but saying that made it feel a little too real.

Because, fuck, he loves you.

You were quiet for a moment, and he was okay with that. Even if you didn’t care about him the way he realized he cared about you, that was fine. As long as you were near. You squeeze him a little tighter.

“I can only hope,” you mumble into his hair, and he can’t help the weak smile against your shoulder.

Maybe he would be okay. When he is, he’s going to ask you on a date.

[sanjifucker42069]

Good Boy

It was a warm day on the Going Merry. It was mid-afternoon and you were alone on the ship, busying yourself by swabbing the deck. The rest of the crew was out on their own journeys, Nami and Usopp shopping, Sanji gathering supplies, and who honestly knew what Zoro and Luffy were up to. You hadn't felt like travelling, you were docked here for a few days, and you really wanted to just rest. But that was this morning, and now you were bored. You sighed, perhaps you should've planned something too.

"(Name)!" You spun around at the sound, seeing Luffy waving both arms at you. Beside him, Sanji carried boxes of supplies. Your eyes softened. Moving to the gangplank you wave back at the boys.

"Ahoy Captain!" You joked, eyes shifting to Sanji and winking. "And ahoy handsome chef. What brings you to my ship?"

Sanji softly smiled at your antics, whilst Luffy boarded the ship excited. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." Luffy grinned, grabbing your shoulders. You laughed. 

"So no hat?" You joked. Luffy shook his head. 

"Where is everyone?"

"You two are the first ones back." You shrugged, turning to Sanji. "Can I help ease your burden there, Sanji? That's a lot of stuff."

The man huffed humorously, jostling the boxes in his hands to be more comfortable as his long legs boarded the ship. He shot you a lopsided grin. "And subject a pretty lady to manual labour? I don't think so." 

You giggled. Damn that man and his charisma. Luffy buzzed with excitement next to you. "You all good there? Did you eat a hive of bees before you got here?"

Luffy ignored you, instead badgering Sanji. "Can we give it to her now, Sanji? Please?" 

Give you what? You cocked your head, confused at your fellow pirates' attitude. You shot a look at the chef, raising an eyebrow. He shrugged.

"I suppose so." 

"Yeah!" Luffy pulled something from his best, handing it to you. "(Name), we got you something. Look, look! Isn't it cool?"

You gasped. A book. It was a modest size, covered in a gorgeous (colour) cover. You ran your fingers over the cover, feeling its coarseness. Eagerly you untied the side tie. The paper inside was gorgeous, a creamy ivory paper with a thickness that made you excited at its possibility. It was lightly textured, perfect for any kind of medium. Truly a beautiful sketchbook. You fawned over it. How did they know? You'd tried to not let it show that you were almost through your current sketchbook. You forced your eyes to acknowledge the two, happiness swelling in your chest.

"Ah Luffy it's perfect! You're such a good boy!" You praised, cradling the book to your chest. You quickly drew the captain into a bear hug. Luffy laughed, scratching the back of his neck. Beside him, Sanji pouted.

"It's no big deal (name), we can't fulfil your dream if we don't have something to draw in!"

"I helped too love." You heard Sanji flirt. He was just joking, well, half-joking. Well, no, if he was honest he really wanted a hug. But he couldn't just outright ask for a hug that wouldn't look cool. So he tried to hint lightheartedly. It didn't bother him too much when he noticed you roll your eyes, chuckling.

It did, however, bother him when he saw you turn your body to him. He didn't really think you'd acknowledge his flirtations, so when you outstretched your arms and pulled the tall man into a surprisingly strong hug, he blanked.

Oh.

The hug was warm, firm, and he could feel all of you against him. You smelt so good, smiling of sea air, soap, and something uniquely you.

"Well thank you too." You laughed, squeezing him for emphasis. "You're also a very good boy."

Oh! 

Good boy. Sanji really didn't want to admit how much he liked that. Neither did he really want to unpack all that. He didn't want you to catch on to just how much he liked that, so he quickly squeezed you back before pulling you back to arms length. You stared up at him confused. You heard him clear his throat. Sensing his discomfort you let go, patting his shoulder.  Any hurt you may have felt you covered up with a bright smile, clutching the sketchbook to your chest.

"I'm gonna start sketching immediately!"  Before Sanji could respond, you were retreating back to the girls' room, keen to get to work.

-------------

It was a cool night. Sanji was lying in his hammock, sleep evading him. The thin cotton blanket resting over his chest. Beside him, he heard Zoro's annoying snoring, Luffy to his right muttering something about meat between snores. The nose symphony slowly chipping away at his sanity. At least Usopp was quiet, he supposed. He wondered if the girls' had to put up with this. His mind wandered, what were you up to? Were you sleeping away without a care, or were you possibly scribbling away in that little book? Sanji sighed. He wondered what you drew, you always seemed so at peace. Sanji considered getting you another one, even if it was mainly to hear your praises. Gods, he'd do anything if he could please you.

"Good boy." Sanji breathed. You were going to be the death of him. He felt his heart flutter. Yeah, he guessed he probably was whipped for you. He let his mind wander. What if he fully hugged back? Would you reciprocate? Would you kiss his cheek? He felt himself flush. He could imagine how soft your lips would be, how you'd pull back with that sweet smile. If he was lucky maybe he could-

SNOOOOOOOOOOORE!

Sanji felt a growl bubble in his throat. He couldn't thrive in these conditions. Savages, having no respect for romance. Swinging his legs over the roped edge, he jumped out of the hammock, stalking his way out of the guys' quarters.

Instantly, he was hit with the cool night air. If he wasn't awake before, he was now. He lazily wandered along the deck, supposing he should probably rearrange the pantry for the ninth time if he was awake. Bare feet padding along the hard wood, he inhaled deeply, the salty sting of the sea invading his nostrils. Nearing the galley he saw it. A light at the front of the boat? Confused and intrigued he crept closer. Who the hell would be up at the hour? And then he saw it. 

You wrapped up in a blanket, scribbling away in your old sketchbook. Sanji felt a soft smile creep up. You looked so cute, periodically looking up to study the scene in front of you. He felt like swooning, the way the moonlight kissed your hair, the way you seemed to sparkle, a gem in the cold night. 

"What are you doing up sweetheart?" He mused, secretly relishing in how you jumped. You clutched the book to your chest, exhaling deeply as a grin formed. You whipped your head to meet the handsome chef.

"Sanji, you scared me! I'm drawing the moon. It's so pretty tonight." Your grin made him flustered. "Why are you up?"

"My bunkmates are bad for my beauty sleep." He feigned annoyance. You laughed. 

"Yeah sure, like you need beauty sleep." He felt his stomach do somersaults. You opened the blanket, tapping the wood next to you. "Got a seat right here. Surely you must be cold?"

Sanji wasn't. It was a pleasant night. However, he'd be an idiot to pass up such an opportunity. He settled down next to you. You drew him in, settling the blanket around his shoulders, dragging him further against you, giggling as you went. 

"Comfy?" You asked once he stopped squirming. Sanji was hyper aware of your thighs touching, you leaning into his side. 

"Yeah." He breathed out. He felt his nerves buzzing, watching as you all but snuggled into him. He needed to calm down. "You like the sketchbook?"

"Love it." You beamed up at him, turning back to scribble marks down. Sanji felt his heart swell. "It's got such nice quality paper. Where did you even find such a thing?"

"Markets. Looked like it had your name on it. Luffy wanted to get you this one that was huge, but you like thicker pages, so this one just seemed like a good fit. 'Sides, I'm sure you've finished your last one."

Sanji's breath hitched as you leant your head on his shoulder, arm gripping his. "You remembered that? Gods you're good to me."

"Only you love." He managed to choke out without sounding too flustered, adding a wink to further sell the facade. You giggled. "What have you got in there anyway?"  

"Oh! You wanna see?" You sounded shy, looking up at him. Sanji nodded. You offered him the older sketchbook, apprehension clear on your face. Sanji began thumbing through the paper. "I know its not brilliant but-"

"Darlin' these are stunning." He praised, tracing an intricate sketch of Merry with his fingers. You beamed next to him when you couldn't detect a lie, a blush forming on your chubby cheeks. Sanji stared at the pages, in awe at your skill.

There were sketches of the others, one of Usopp holding a mop, a detailed one of Zoro napping. His eyes caught a particularly beautiful portrait of Nami against the tangerines. He gasped. You'd captured her beauty expertly. He turned the page, there was a spread of sketches of his crewmates, of Luffy and Usopp playing on the deck, sketches of Nami plotting her maps at the galley table, even a few of Zoro exercising. He felt a frown form. There were none of him. He didn't mean to feel so selfish, but you'd captured the crew with such liveliness and love. He certainly didn't realise you had been studying his face intently. 

"What's wrong?"

Sanji sighed, realising he'd been caught. He figured he'd broach the subject with humour. Plastering a fake smirk on his face he turned his attention to you. "These are incredible (Name), they look great, but am I not model material?"

You extricated yourself from your hold against him, getting to your feet. Sanji immediately felt disappointed by the loss of touch. "Wait here." Your voice was shaky. 

Sanji sighed sadly, he shouldn't have said that. Instead he did as he was told, waiting patiently for your return. You must have been gone five minutes, five aching minutes for him to consider his mistake. When you returned you were holding something behind your back, looking visibly uncomfortable. Sanji raised a brow.

"Love I didn't mean you had to paint a portrait of me now." He laughed softly. You thrust a book in his face, eyes scrunched shut. He delicately tried to take the book but you didn't budge.

"Promise you won't laugh?" You asked shyly, peeking open one eye. Sanji frowned. He'd never laugh at you. He nodded. You relaxed your shoulders, agreeingly giving him the book. He was going to open the book but he took in the way you fidgeted in front of him.

"You not gonna sit back down?" You shook your head, not trusting your voice. He sighed. With no hesitation this time he opened the book. 

Oh.

The first used page he came across were small sketches of him working in the kitchen. There must have been four or five small, quick drawings, but that was unmistakably him. In awe, he turned the page, greeted once again by drawings of him, bigger this time. You'd sketched his face while he was cooking, clearly oblivious to your staring. He felt himself freeze. That was him. It was clear there was a lot of time put into this. Just how long were you staring at him? He thought you were drawing the food, not him! He felt himself blush, embarrassed by the revelation. Keen to see more he continued through the book, seeing sketches of only him. You'd sketched his hands, his eyes, so many little drawings of his face. There were even sketches from his sparring sessions on the deck. These. These were all him? He felt a bit lightheaded. When he made it to the last used page he stopped. There was a rather intricate drawing of him smoking, leaning over the Merry's bannister. It left him breathless. There was so much detail.

"Uh." Was all he managed to force out.

You blanched. "Oh! I'm sorry, I've weirded you out. I..." He saw you reach out to take the book back, his grip tightening. 

"I like drawing you, wanna make sure I get your features right." You muttered. Sanji tore his face away from the page when he heard you take a shaky breath in. He looked up and jolted at the tears in your eyes. 

"(Name), I-"

"I'm sorry. It's really creepy right? I'll stop, I promise."

"These are all me?" He managed dumbly. You cringed. He felt his heart thumping loudly. 

"Yeah...That's your book."

"Do the others?"

You shook your head, tears starting to fall. "Just you. It's weird, I know-"

"I love it." He breathed out.

"What?"

Sanji stared up at you, closing the book with care, and setting it to the side. He grabbed your trembling hands, trying to coax you down to his level. You followed, dropping to your knees. 

"It's beautiful love. You've made me look beautiful."

"You are beautiful." You muttered. 

Sanji couldn't take it anymore, he pulled you flush against him. You squeaked, falling into his chest. His arms came up to hug you tightly. 

"I'm the luckiest man in all the seas." He smiled. That managed a laugh out of you. You peeked up at him, eyes wide and cheeks tear-stained. "I was really jealous when I saw you drew everyone else. Don't know how I never caught you drawing me."

"I'm sneaky." You joked, earning a laugh. You snuggled against him. 

"Can I kiss you?"

Your eyes shot back up to him, choking on your own spit, all you could manage was a a strangled, "What?"

"Wanna reward my little artist. So can I kiss you?" Sanji spoke as if he was talking about the weather. You nodded dumbly.

Wasting absolutely no time, Sanji caressed your face, softly. He started softly, before crushing his lips to yours. You squeaked happily, moving to try and get closer. Your lips moved in tandem, sharing kiss after kiss. You felt electricity shudder down your spine, sweet sighs escaping. Sanji felt like he was on cloud nine, committing all of you to memory, tracing your lips as if he needed to map it to mind.

Unfortunately you needed to breathe, and you pulled back, eyes sparkling. You panted lightly, trying desperately to catch your breath. Sanji took in how flushed you look, lips swollen from his attack. You were grinning wildly at him.

"Wow." You breathed. Sanji laughed. "You're really good."

Sanji mulled over your words for a second, before throwing caution to the wind. Fuck it, he got to kiss you, he supposed anything else right now was a bonus. "Am I your good boy?"

What Sanji didn't take into account is how his flirty demeanour can come across as purely teasing. You groaned beneath him. Sanji got his hopes up at the sound. but you pointedly looked away.

"Sorry about that. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, it seemed funny at the time."

Sanji's heart fell out of his ass. Ow. But you had kissed him? 

"I'm not?"

"What?" You looked at him inquisitively, taking in how hard he tried to hide his dejection behind that smile. You brightened, the puzzle clicking together. "Wait. You like that?"

"No!" Sanji lied. He didn't like the cheeky grin you were now sporting, it always spelt bad news for him.

"Oho I think you do. That's why you were being weird! You were jealous that I called Luffy a good boy?! I thought it was because I hugged you. You like me, that's so cute."

"You literally have a sketchbook dedicated to me."

You giggled. "No, we're past that. You like being called a good boy?"

"I like being called your good boy." He muttered. You giggled, causing him to further frown. Soon, he felt your soft hands on his cheeks. 

"Ah, you really are so cute. My heart. Kiss me again good boy?"

"Stop teasing me." Sanji pouted, cheeks red. You laughed.

"Nuh-uh! You tease me constantly, I finally have some ammunition of my own! Wait until you have to put up with me calling you pretty boy."

You peppered his face with kisses before finally planting a smooch on his lips. Sanji grinned into the kiss, pulling you further into his lap. You nipped at his lower lip. He obliged, parting his lips for you to attack. Sanji sighed as you thrust your tongue into his mouth. Gods, he could die now and be happy. 

You were in absolute heaven. If you'd known Sanji would be this receptive, you would have kissed him months ago. And his blush? Gods, you could grow addicted to flustering him. Pulling back with a wet smack, you stared down at him, taking in how beautiful he looked under you. With a delicate hand you lightly cradled his chin.

"Would you be a good boy and model for me someday?"

Sanji cocked an eyebrow. "We that far ahead are we?" 

You laughed at his hidden meaning. "I meant just letting me draw you properly, but I wouldn't say no to staring at your naked body."

Sanji blushed, his ears burning and mind racing. He covered it up with a cough. "Are you going to be like that from now on? What happened to my cute little artist?"

Your grin was more of a smirk, Sanji mused. He liked when your mischievous side came out. The idea that this would be a regular occurrence made him dizzy. You kissed his cheek. "Now that I know you like me I have no need to be shy. You're stuck with me."

"And what a shame that is." Sanji smiled, resting his head on your shoulder. You laughed. 

You really could get used to this.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 27 - Just a Shot Away

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: Being pointlessly confident and saying that we're going to finish with 31 chapters. See you on the other side of this one! <3

Chapter Title from Gimme Shelter by The Rolling Stones.

Word Count: 27.4k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: The team drives to DC for a meeting with Singer. Usual warnings, with a little extra violence and gore.

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

Read on A03!

Chapter 26 - Chapter 28

“Can I drive?”

“There is not a fucking chance in Christ’s blue balls I’m letting you drive, Sunshine.”

She pouted at Ben, propping her chin on his shoulder and being a fucking hazard to Ben’s very good, very safe driving. “Please?”

“No.”

“But-“

“I’m really fucking like my life.” He gave her a side-eyed, flat look as he said Her name. “So no.”

She stuck Her tongue out at him, crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat as she muttered under her breath. “You can’t even die, you cockfuck asshole.”

Ben snorted. “You know I can fucking hear you, brat. And you’d figure out a way to kill me, you’re real damn smart like that.” 

“Kiss ass.”

“Only for you, darling.”

She flushed at his wink, thighs pressing together with a small squirm—like She was trying to move Ben’s hand up from where it had found an easy home near her knee—and he’d fucking won. Ben didn’t even try to stop the triumphant grin from crossing his face, because he never fucking won these arguments. They usually ended with Her moaning as Ben fucked her in an attempt to regain some control and dignity after she’d convinced him eat lunch with Her, Hughie, and Annie, or do the laundry, or thank Kimiko for brownies, or read a fucking book. But she wasn’t pushing further, cutting right to watching Ben with lust-blown eyes and a pretty, gaping and slack expression, so he’d fucking won.

“Need me to pull over?” He dragged his hand up Her leg, smirking at her small gasp. “Take care of you on the side of the fucking highway?”

“Fuck you,” She mumbled, grabbing Ben’s hands and turning it over between hers in a way that was somehow lot more fucking distracting than her pout. “Horny old cunt-“

“I can hear your heart,” Ben drawled Her name, twining his fingers into hers. “You want me to fuck you, and I haven’t even done anything-“

“It’s the driving.” She shrugged, but Ben didn’t miss how Her hand tightened in his. “You look hot when you drive.”

He chuckled, glancing over at Her beautiful, fake sulking face. “Driving fucking does it for you? Should I get a car, just to turn you on-“

“Shut up, Benjamin.” She wrinkled Her nose at him. “You get turned on when I’m good with Ryan, Mr. Breeding Kink. I’m allowed to think you’re sexy when you’re driving a car.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “I am not going fucking apologize for loving you and wanting fuck you until your full of me-“

“Well then I don’t have to apologize for looking at your hands and muscles when you drive!”

“You have a damn obsession with my hands, Sunshine.” He grinned at Her, lifting her hand up in his to kiss Her knuckles. “I’m starting to think you like them more than my cock.”

“I’m allowed to like multiple things, Pretty Boy. I don’t know if old age is getting to you, but I also said muscles-“

“How about this.” Ben held their hands in Her lap, looking between her pretty, dramatic, perfect fucking fake-scowl and the road he had to not crash on. “After Edgar, I’ll let me give you a blowjob right fucking here, in the car.”

“Oh, you’ll let me give you a blowjob-“

“I wasn’t fucking done, brat.” Ben guided their hands between Her legs, cock twitching in his pants as her thighs squeezed around them. “Then, I’ll finger you all you goddamn want. Use my hands how you like them, make you cum on my fingers. Deal?”

She swallowed. “Deal.”

“Good girl.”

Ben laughed as She hit his arm, half grinding onto him at the same time. “Shut the fuck up-“

“You love it.“ Ben felt that strange, radiant thing burst alight in his body. “You love me.”

“Against all my better judgment,” She sighed. “I really do. Can we go over the plan again?”

He nodded, but there wasn’t really that fucking much to go over. They’d made practically negative progress on what the keys could be for—Frenchie had tried to duplicate them, only to discover it was a magnetic skeleton key, and whatever the fuck that meant had caused Her to let out a long, exhausted sigh—and everyone’s bets on the answer seemed to live in the realm of just fucking praying that it wasn’t another problem for them to deal with. Or, if they were all being real damn honest, for Her to deal with.

“It’s probably not something perishable,” She’d said, everyone gathered in the dining hall and glaring at the keys on the center of the table. “Given how long it sounded like the keys were at Red River.”

“That is why my bet is on a weapon,” Frenchie had nodded along to Her words, looking to Kimiko for agreement. “Right, Mon Coeur? Guns and bomb are not items that perish-“

Kimiko had signed something, and both Her and Frenchie’s faces had fallen.

“It could be that.” She’d muttered, voice raising as She translated for the rest of the team. “Something that is perishable, but Edgar doesn’t care if it perished.” 

“Well, why’d he want you and Soldier Boy to get it now-“ 

She’d shrugged, cutting MM off with a tired, almost bitter look at the keys. “Maybe it’s value isn’t dependent on it being, um-“

“Alive.” Ben had grunted, and She’d swallowed. 

“Yeah. Alive.”

“Or just ripe?” Hughie had offered, voice practically fucking desperate. “It doesn’t have to be living, they could be hiding something from the government like they did V, like food or-“ 

“I ain’t puttin money on Edgar stashin pears,Hughie-“ 

She’d shaken her head. “No, Butcher, Hughie’s actually got a point.”

“I do?”

“No he don’t-“

She’d turned Her eyes up to Butcher and Hughie, tone bored and amused. “Yeah, he does. The keys are to the Cornucopia. In Greco-Roman cultic practices, cornucopias were often depicted with agricultural gods, and copia literally means abundance in Latin-“

Butcher has snapped Her name. “Tell us like we’re fuckin idiots, Love-“ 

Ben had frowned, because he’d been following along just fine. But She was also literally alive inside of him, so he’d either adapted to Her smart talk so well he didn’t get phased by it anymore, or She was physically making Ben more intelligent. He hoped it was the former, because then it could be another testament of his love for Her. How he really fucking listened when She spoke, even if his primary motivation was how fucking hot she could be when she was talking about things she was passionate about. And given that She was somehow passionate about every single fucking thing in the universe, Ben would never make her stop talking or dumb it down for his sake. He got to learn shit, and have a boner that She usually ended up fixing. Everyone fucking won.

He’d almost told Butcher to fucking shove it and let Her speak, but She’d been faster, frowning at Butcher as she’d continued.

“Cornucopias are symbols of Greek and Roman food gods. The word means Horn of Plenty in Latin.” She’d looked back to Hughie with a small smile. “So food isn’t that insane of a guess.”

Despite Her reassurance, nobody had ended up putting money on food. The keys were now a slight weight in the pocket of Her jacket, and they’d agreed upon keeping the V from Edgar. If he asked about it, they’d either playing real fucking stupid and telling him they’d only received the keys, giving him a vial of water She’d put green food dye in, or saying they’d broken them. Ben was pretty damn sure Edgar would buy that last one, because the man seemed convinced their team was made up of complete fucking idiots.

It might be. In the past two days they certainly hadn’t been a bunch of fucking geniuses. Mallory had attempted to brief with them about Singer and potential new avenues for V, and Ben had witnessed some of the worst fucking acting performances of in history. For a group of people whose whole fucking job was murder and espionage, they hadn’t managed to be fully capable of looking Mallory in Her hypothetically compromised face and just goddamn lie. Hughie had been all goddamn sweaty, MM and Butcher just kept grunting and glaring, Annie wouldn’t stop staring, and Frenchie had been talking at a damn near inhuman pace. If it wasn’t for Her and Ben, Mallory would’ve clued in on how they’d all finally fucking realized that She was a bitch and couldn’t be trusted.

“Maybe,” MM had muttered as they’d returned to Jersey, the air in the limo tense and wired. “We could tell, Grace, and she’d side with us. She didn’t seem to be Muller’s biggest fan-“

“No.” She’d shuffled further into Ben’s side, leaning into him with a sigh. “Mallory’s primary allegiance is to democracy. If there’s even a chance Singer might think that she’s just trying to sabotage Muller’s as a VP candidate, she won’t actually help us. And she’s not stupid. She might put together that we’re going after federal V, notice the documents are missing or something, and try to stop us. We can’t risk it.” 

Ben had expected more pushback, but Butcher, of all goddamn people, had taken her side.

“She’s right, Mate.” He’d looked at them through the rear-view mirror, a sour and tight-lipped expression on his face. “We ain’t able to take big gambles on anything right now. What Grace don’t know ain’t gonna hurt her, so she’ll be stayin in the dark on this one.”

And that was the fucking plan. Keep Mallory in the dark about the leak, let Her and Ben get the keys to Edgar, and meet the team in Boston for the V. Then they’d fucking kill Homelander—no loose ends for him to know it’s coming, Annie had even bought Her a private, non-CIA funded phones—and deal with the mess it left when the pussy was a million goddamn feet under. 

The mess that included those two original formula V’s, one being kept wherever the fuck Butcher kept things, and one in Ben’s jacket.

They’d agreed not to give it Edgar. There wasn’t a fucking chance in hell they were giving that V to Edgar. When this was over, they’d likely just fucking flush it down the toilet.

But they hadn’t. And Ben had looked at it in Her underwear drawer before they left, and decided that there was no goddamn way he was just leaving it here. In the FBSA Headquarters, where Mallory could just walk into their apartment with her seemingly unlimited jurisdiction and find it.

And he’d forgotten to tell Her. It was really just fucking occurring to him now, as She outlined what to do if Edgar asked them for the V, that it was something She’d probably want to know about. This seemed like the type of shit he’d get yelled at for keeping from Her, even if it wasn’t at all on purpose.

He grunted Her name before he could forget again, and She cut off her own lecture, frowning at him.

“Yeah?”

“I need to tell you something, and you’re not allowed to lose your damn mind about it.”

Her tone raised into a slight warning. “Ben-“

“It’s not fucking bad,” he muttered, risking a look at Her expression. She mostly just looked concerned, and it was a lot fucking worse, so Ben had to just say it. Lock his eyes back on the road and just goddamn tell Her. “I brought the V.”

There was silence for a second, and when Ben looked back, She was only blinking. Her head had tilted slightly, and her fingers were trying to tap in Ben’s hold, but her heart was natural and even, so she wasn’t mad.

“Okay.” She sighed, leaning Her head back in her seat and squeezing Ben’s hand. “I mean, it’s not ideal, but I’d rather have it with you than leave it at the compound. Next time tell me before we leave,” She whacked his arm lightly. “But I can work with it.”

Ben nodded slowly, and muttered, “you’d rather have it-“

“With you.” She repeated herself, and Ben could hear the smile in Her voice. “I trust you, Pretty Boy. And you’re even safer than an underwear drawer. You can yell at people, and hit them into a wall if they try to take things from you. You’re very dramatic, Benjamin. It’s one of your best qualities.”

He snorted, running his thumb over the skin of Her hand. “Brat.”

“Cunt. I need to pee.”

“Why the fuck are you telling me that-“ 

“Because you,” She nudged his shoulder, and Ben turned to see that pretty pout on her lips. “Won’t let me fucking drive, and I am not peeing in the woods, so you need to get me to a gas station.”

He rolled his eyes, but grunted for Her to find one on the map and listened to her directions, parking and turning to watch Her move at his side. 

“I’ll be back,” She smiled at him, fumbling with her seat belt. “Put some gas in the car while I’m gone, we’re low.”

Ben scowled. “No, we’re not-“

“Yes,” She leaned over him, pointing to a small, flashing light on the dashboard. “We are.” 

“That means Butcher’s low on washer fluid-“ 

“Nope. Gas.” She turned to grin at him, their faces barely a fucking inch apart. “Old man-“

Ben tangled his hand in Her hair, pulling her into a long, soft kiss. Shut the fuck up, Sunshine, I am not goddamn old- 

You’re so old. She let out a happy sigh into his mouth, pulling back to meet his gaze. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Sunshine.” He kissed Her cheek, and her eyes on his were so fucking full of adoration and want it might kill him. “Go piss. Be fast.”

“I always am. Fill up the gas, please.” 

“With what damn money-“

“Butcher gave me a hundred to use on gas and whatever fuckin lube you and the old cunt need, as a gift.” 

“Jokes on that pussy, we don’t need lube.” Ben winked at Her. “You get plenty fucking wet for me, all by your damn self.” 

“Fuck you-“ 

“If you insist-“ 

She bumped his nose with Hers, brushing hair out of his eyes. “After I pee, Benjamin, my love, you can fuck me all you want. But only after you let go of me, so I can pee.” 

Ben grunted, releasing where he’d subconsciously grabbed Her waist, but holding onto the sound of Her heartbeat as she climbed out of the car. She’d passed him the money from Her jacket, and now Ben had to fill up the gas tank, because Her saying Benjamin, my love, was some sort of goddamn override to his brain that made body move to Her will more than his. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t have gotten Her gas—She’d asked him for something, and Ben would be damned if she didn’t fucking get it—but he might have pushed for them to go somewhere else if she hadn’t added that one fucking phrase.

But now he had to get gas here. At this backwater fucking washed up parking lot, with a pump that might have been installed before Ben was even taken to Russia. This whole fucking place was disgusting, even by the real damn low standards of gas stations in upstate New York. Ben wasn’t even sure it was genuine establishment and not an abandoned building that some hicks has started selling dogshit coffee and stale candy bars at. If this was Ben’s car, which it fortunately wasn’t, he’d probably have flat out fucking refused to put their alleged “gas” in the engine. They were selling it for a million damn dollars—She’d explained the rapid increase of cost of living and inflation to him several times, but $4.50 for gas had to be a crime—and if he wasn’t able to lean against Butcher’s car and keep a very careful eye on every single pussy moving around the lot while she took a piss, he would’ve damned it and gone into the bathroom with Her, just to make sure she was safe.

But She probably would’ve killed him for hovering, and it wasn’t like Ben couldn’t feel Her—easy and content and humming a soft, natural song—everywhere his head, or hear her heartbeat slightly muffled, but steady, across the parking lot. And it was just them, three truckers, the store workers, and a family on some sort of weird fucking road trip at the station overall, so things would be fine. And if they weren’t, Ben had a fucking gun. They were going right to Boston after this shit, so even though he wasn’t allowed to bring his suit, Ben had dropped his shield in the trunk of Butcher’s car and packed one of the gun ranges better pistols in his pants, along with the one Butcher had given him when She’d return in his pants. So if that bouncy fucking five-year-old tried anything, Ben would be ready.

The five-year-old wouldn’t try anything. It was a little girl, rolling in the grass like a damn dog, giggling to herself as her mother watched her with a tired, joyful smile, and neither of them seemed to be plotting anything. A man joined them with a slightly smaller boy, passing the woman a coffee with a kiss as the boy half-tackled the girl, and something Ben fucking became radiant and soft and aching and hungry in his chest and head and gut.

He’d never fucking gotten that. Ben couldn’t ever remember being that carefree as a kid, and he’d certainly never fucking played in the grass, looked up at his father, and gotten a thumbs up and smile of approval. She’d never had it either. Ben would place real good money that Her parents had never watched her with content, easy expressions, and then shared low laughs with each other about a joke Ben could fucking hear, and wasn’t that damn funny. Those assholes across the parking lot seemed to think it was fucking hilarious, leaning on each other and watching each other with expressions that would’ve made Ben scoff and make a face of like he’d smelled something foul forty years ago.

He wouldn’t now. He hadn’t gotten that before either—real, raw, powerful fucking love—but Ben fucking got it now. That together didn’t just mean at someone’s side most days, and in name, with acknowledgments through teeth. Ben had thought the most together had to offer was a show. Someone he didn’t like that much, but could half-tolerate for a few hours, to flash and shine with him so everyone went fuck, they look good. They’re smiling for us, so that’s love.

Ben had been a fucking idiot. Together meant together. It meant at Her side, always matching Her step for step, but a fuck ton more than just a name. Together meant just them, no need to stray and no way out, because Ben didn’t want a way out. He loved Her—he couldn’t stop telling Her, and it almost fell out of Ben like when he exhaled it would always come out as the words, I love you, Sunshine—and together meant Her and Ben, burning at each other’s sides, no matter what every other pussy fucker wanted. And all the best parts of this weren’t for any single camera or crowd, they were for Ben. They were how She looked wearing his shirts and sprawled over his body, a weight he could easily throw off but never wanted to. They were watching TV shows and Movies with Her, and watching her smile in the glow of the screen. They were trading smirks and winks and jokes, and bumping shoulders or walking with Ben half holding Her up as he made dirty promises he’d always keep. They were dancing with Her in the haze of colorful light provided by her beautiful, fucking enchantingvoice, and saying shit like enchanting because that seemed like a word She’d use.

He really fucking got that together wasn’t a performance. Ben liked Her—She was fucking hilarious and mean and smart and perfect—and when he smiled it was for Her. Not a single other pussy fucker mattered when Ben smiled at Her, because it was something that he couldn’t help, and acted as another piece of evidence that Ben loved Her. Further proof that she’d never have to be afraid of anything again, because Ben would keep her safe, and she’d never have to want for anything because Ben would find whatever she asked for.

So Ben couldn’t scowl at the man across the lot, half-hanging over his wife, because Ben knew that he probably looked that fucking stupid when he looked at Her. But anyone would look that stupid if they got to love Her. If She’d turned them into a fucking pussy who thought about things like would they take stupid road trips? They could. After this was over, She and Ben could do whatever the fuck they wanted. Ben’s whole goddamn brain had been turned into a place to figure out what else would She want. A road trip probably wasn’t the best idea, if Ben wanted to keep his sanity. Given how frequent and intense their sex was, they’d have to pull over two or three times a day and Ben was never going to fuck his wife in a flea-ridden, stiff mattressed, peeling-paint motel room. He could—Ben could fuck Her anywhere—but She deserved all the comfort the world had to offer.

She’d want to see beautiful things. Not have them, but see them. Ben would need to take Her to places that held half the beauty she had in Her own body and heart and head, just so She could see what he got to look at every goddamn day. Ben needed to show Her things like waterfalls and mountains and oceans, find Her a place where the sun was almost as bright as She was, and he could hold Her just to hold her. A place where there were soft breezes and music and good food and flowers.

There were flowers here. As gross as this place was, there were still flowers. Off the side of the lot, past where the family had been standing and where everything turned overgrown and green, there were light pink flowers.

She was still in the bathroom, and the tank was full, and Ben couldn’t stop staring at the flowers. It was just him and two truckers now—shorter men with baseball caps and slightly tattered clothing—and they were looking over at Ben with weary frowns.

But Ben still just fucking stared at the flowers.

And that was the type of fucking love-sick idiot pussy She’d turned him into. The type that stomped across the parking lot, glaring daggers at the other men in a silent dare to say something—because Ben would throw them right through their stupid trucks and not break a sweat—and grabbed some flowers out of the ground for his wife.

She’d like them. She’d get pretty, wide eyes and smile at Ben and it wouldn’t matter that he’d just picked flowers like a fucking child, because She’d be happy.

He returned to the car, scowling at where he could still hear Her heartbeat through the walls of the gas station.

You’re not being fucking fast, Sunshine.

There was barely a beat before she responded. Take it up with my asshole, Pretty Boy. I’m shitting.

Are you almost done.

I think? Maybe five or six more minutes. Ben heard Her amusement bounce around his head, and he could fucking hear the smile on her face. Think you’ll make it? 

Shut the fuck up. Ben glared at the flowers, still in his hands. Do you need anything. 

Like what? 

I don’t fucking know, what do gas stations sell now-

Probably the same things they sold in the 80s. Gum, candy, condoms, snack, soda, energy drinks- 

What the fuck is an energy drink.

Like, a Red Bull or a Monster. There was a pause, and then, have you had a Red Bull? 

Bulls aren’t red, they’re brown or some shit-

No, dummy, it’s a brand name. Like Doritos, but caffeine and sugar. Go get a Red Bull, Benjamin.

Ben frowned. Why. 

Because I want to watch you drink it.  

He looked down at the remainder of their money. Are you hungry.

If I say yes, will you buy the Red Bull.  

He grunted Her name between their heads, and Her soft laugh echoed through his mind.

I’ll take whatever else you get.  

What the fuck do you want, Sunshine-

We’ll share. Go get the food and I’ll find you after I’m done.

Ben nodded to no one and put Her flowers in his pocket, taking one last assessing look around the lot—one more person had parked a white van, but that was it—before heading into the gas station convince store.

These things hadn’t fucking changed in the slightest. Still flickering blue, washed-out fluorescent lights, dirty floors and walls, and messily stocked shelves. Ben stalked over to the drink fridges lining the walls, scanning the shelves for whatever the fuck a Red Bull was—figured out it was a silver and blue can, and decided to get the black and green one a few shelves instead on fucking principle alone—and moved on to find Her some food.

The newer man, with the van, had walked into the store, joining Ben and the acrylic-nailed woman behind the counter, and was studying all the sandwiches and donuts near the register like he might actually find one that didn’t taste like fucking shit. Ben decided to go for the snack isle instead, because he could kick the pussy out of his way, but She’d be eating whatever he ate. Ben wasn’t that fucking hungry, and he knew if he tried to just give Her food and not take any himself, she’d go on a strike and refuse to take a bite until he took one as well. That meant he had to figure out something that they’d both eat, but She’d love more, enough to eat most of it without pawning half off to Ben. And Ben would not take a single fucking bite of a Styrofoam, gas station hot dog, so snacks it was.

He grabbed things he recognized. Potato chips and Rice Krispies and Oreos and Pop Tarts, and then a large bag of chocolates he could insist was only for Her, because he had this stupid fucking energy drink for himself. She needed to drink as well, actually, so Ben returned to the drink isle and scowled at the options. Colorful bottles and over-priced water and juices designed for children that Ben wouldn’t be buying his wife- 

Fuck. He kept doing that. Since DC, Ben’s brain had decided to turn against his own interest of waiting and doing it right to just call Her his wife. She would be—he’d fucking kill the proposal, and make every other romantic thing in history look like a World War—but she wasn’t yet. So he needed to get a goddamn hold over himself, grab one of those fancy fucking water bottles, and pay for everything so they could keep going before Ben did something stupid like asking Her to marry him in a parking lot.

He sensed Her before he even realized her heartbeat had moved. An innate feeling of closer, She’s getting closer, good things are getting closer, and then a ring of a high bell as the door opened. Ben had made his way over to the counter—waiting as the cashier scanned everything in the slowest way goddamn possible—and turned to see Her walking over to him with such a perfect fucking look of ease on her face, a small smile pulling at her lips as she assessed his picks.

She opened Her mouth—eyes meeting Ben’s and full of a fucking light and sheer goddamn happiness that made him high—and that pussy fucking van idiot, mouthful of a sandwich he hadn’t damn paid for yet, stepped between them.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here, honey?”

She froze, and Ben felt his hands curl into fists as something started to twist and flail in his gut.

“I, um, I don’t,” She looked over the man’s shoulder to Ben, and he jerked his head to the Van-Pussy.

Do you want me to kill him-

“You up here with anyone? Nah, no way someone would leave you alone if you were, they’d have to be a fucking cuck.” The man laughed to himself, and Ben took a jerked step forward to rip off his goddamn head.

No murder, Benjamin. 

He halted, keeping his attention on Van-Pussy’s every shift and breath. Some small murder can be fucking justified, he’s got it coming-

I’ve got this. If you need to start punching holes in people, I’ll tell you.

Ben was going to break his own fucking teeth, his clenched jaw becoming slightly strained and almost painful, but he gave a small, curt nod. Swear it-

Promise. “I am actually. Here with someone.”

Van-Pussy laughed again, but this laugh was dismissive, like she was stupid. “Please, honey. I don’t see no one-“

She shrugged. “Then turn around.”

Ben coughed to cover his laugh, and Van-Pussy whipped around to meet his glare.

Then the fucking idiot rolled his eyes. “You could do better than him, darling, you’re way too pretty for him. Come with me, and I’ll show you a real good time.”

That was an insane fucking statement. Ben had issues, but he also knew what his face looked like. He might be the only asshole alive who was close to being as attractive as she was. It was another reason he was fucking built to love Her right, because She deserved to fuck and smile and love someone who could hold even a tiny, flickering candle to the massive, consuming and cleansing inferno of life and beauty that she was.

Ben probably would’ve broken Van-Pussy’s face for that statement alone, then his ribs for calling Her darling, and then his knees for how he’d started to reach for Her, but she was a fucking wonder of the universe and moved faster. Side-stepping Van-Pussy in a smooth movement, reaching a hand out for Ben to wrap his own around on instinct, and let Herself be tugged right up to his side, under his arm, where they both goddamn belonged.

“I’m good, thank you.” She gave Van-Pussy’s wide, almost thunder-struck expression a sweet, toxic, toothless smile, and turned herself and Ben around, back to the counter.

Ben kissed the top of Her head as she fully assessed his choices, the cashier somehow not finished scanning. “I can still fucking kill him if you want-“

She cut off his words, muttered in Her ear, with a turn of her head and full, long, kiss. “No murder, Benjamin, my love.” She hummed into his mouth, and pulled away to rest her head on his shoulder, looking back to the food. “No weed, huh?”

He blinked, frowning between Her and the counter. “What the fuck are you talking about-“

“Weed is legal in New York,” She shrugged. “And a lot of gas stations sell it now. It might not be regulated weed, but that doesn’t really matter to you-“

“Are you fucking with me-“

“Nope.” She bumped their shoulders, and turned to the cashier. “Excuse me, ma’am, do you have any cannabis products-“

The cashier looked up at her with a flat, almost dead-eyed stare. “We got joints, $40 for the bag.”

“Can you add that as well-“ 

The woman turned around to the wall of cigarettes and condoms behind the counter, and She smiled up at Ben.

“See? Weed-“

Ben cupped Her chin, holding her still so he could kiss her as deep and rough as he could manage without starting to fuck her on the disgusting floor of the gas station. She was fucking perfect, and amazing, and all Ben’s and fuck he loved Her so goddamn much-

They only broke apart because the cashier cleared her throat, slamming a bag of weed on the counter and looking at Ben expectantly. “Fifty-five bucks.”

Ben paid—his instance that they didn’t need a bag, because he could fucking carry everything without an issue being shot down by Her sharp glare—and guided Her out of the store, back to the car. Ben winked at Van-Pussy as they passed him, because She was his. She’d chosen Ben, and was tucked at his side with a smile and perfect fucking look of happiness on her beautiful face. She knew Ben, and got him weed, and loved him so much that Ben could see it everywhere. In the trash littered around the gas station and smudges of dirt on the windows of Butcher’s car. In the woods surrounding them and the and the sparkles of glass in the parking lot, in the reflection of rainbow in some stray oil pooling out of the pump, and Her smile as they climbed back into the car.

“No weed now,” She glanced up at him as she pulled items out of the plastic bag, a tone of apology in her voice. “Just because we need to go, and can’t afford to be pulled over if a patrol cop sees the driver smoking a joint.” Her eyes lit up, and Ben knew exactly what she was going to say before her mouth even opened. “Or-“

“You are not driving, Sunshine.” Ben drawled, fighting his smile at the pretty wrinkle of Her nose. “Don’t even fucking try to convince me otherwise.”

“Cunt,” She mumbled, tossing the joints into the back of the car. “What do you want first?”

“Whatever you don’t want.” 

She nodded, frowning at the bag. “Chips?”

“I don’t give a fuck-“

The bag of chips was half-chucked at his face, and Ben looked over to see her holding up the green can, her brows raised.

“Benjamin, this is not a Red Bull-“

“It’s the same shit, isn’t it? And it’s green-“

“Holy fuck, Pretty Boy.” She giggled, passing him the drink. “You’re like a toddler who won’t eat chicken nuggets because they’re not shaped like dinosaurs-“

“Shut the fuck up-“

“I think it’s adorable.” She leaned forwards, propping her chin on his shoulder. “And I love you, you old grump. Drink the Monster.”

Ben scowled, glaring down at Her as he popped the can open. “This is dumb as shit-“

“Yeah, it is. Do it, you pussy-“

He kissed Her once, just to turn her words into a soft moan, and pulled back with a smirk. “Brat.”

He took the drink in one gulp, and almost spat it out over Butcher’s dashboard. 

“Fucking Christ, this tastes like ass-“ He glared at Her, head buried against him and absolutely failing to contain her laughter at his suffering. “People drink this shit on purpose-“

She nodded, her grin wide and toothy and unrestrained as she looked up to meet his eyes. “They do, yeah. It’s like dogshit coca cola, but also helps you finish an essay two hours before it’s due. It has its merits.”

“It’s fucking disgusting,” Ben grumbled, slamming the can into the cup holders for Butcher to throw out later, and She giggled again. “You think this is fucking funny-“

“I do.” She pulled herself up, kissing along Ben’s jaw and taking his hand in Hers. “I think this is hilarious.” 

“You’re so fucking mean to me, Sunshine-“

“You love it.”

He rolled his eyes, but squeezed Her hand and only muttered, “I do, you fucking brat.”

“Thank you for trying that for me-“

“Don’t.” Ben sighed, glancing Her as she settled back into her seat, their hands still tangled together. “I got you something.”

“You got me lots of things.” She looked back to the bag, pulling out the chocolate with a smile. “Very good boyfriending, Benjamin.“

The radiant thing coursed through Ben’s whole body, blooming over his ribs and warming his gut. It was damn near impossible to keep frowning—to keep his brow drawn and face neutral—when she was so contagiously happy. Like disease Ben wanted to,fucking needed to catch.

He shoved his hand into his pocket before he could pussy out, and coughed to regain her full attention. “I got you something else, as well.”

A small frown crossed her face as she titled Her head, scanning over Ben’s very fucking serious expression. “What?” 

He pulled the flower out, extending it for Her to take with a stiff arm. He didn’t have any fucking words for it, because it didn’t need words. This flower was for Her. Ben had picked it for Her, and that was all he goddamn knew how to do. Ben knew how to do things for Her, because it was easier than breathing, and that was it, and it would have to speak for itself.

She was gaping between him and the flower, the whole world almost fucking drowning in the feeling of Her—infinite and good and made of fire and life and love and honey and music and something golden Ben didn’t have a name for—and when she reached out with a slightly shaking hand, her voice was soft.

“You got me a flower?”

Ben grunted an agreement, trying to figure out what the fuck Her exact reaction was. Why she sounded so fucking nervous, when She was electric and overflowing inside on Ben’s body.

“Where-“

“Woods.” He muttered, jerking his head in the vague direction of where the family had stood. “There were fuck ton of them-“

“You,” She swallowed, glossy eyes moving to fully onto Ben’s. “You picked it for me?”

“Of course I picked it for you, who the fuck else would I pick it for-“

She practically launched herself out of Her seat, crashing her mouth into Ben’s, and his words died with a groan as she straddled him. She was kissing Ben like she’d fucking die if she didn’t, grinding down onto him with moans of his name and sounds of want that made his cock grow painfully hard. Her hands were tangled in his hair, their bodies molded perfectly together, and fuck she smelled good, felt good, everything about Her was so fucking good-

“I love you,” She whispered, voice slightly unsteady as she pulled back to watch him, and Ben realized he could taste the salt from her tears. She was fucking crying, why the fuck was she crying-

“You-“

“I love you so much, Ben.” She gave him one last, tender and sweet kiss, smiling against his lips. You’re amazing, and I love the flower, and I really fucking love you.

Ben realized—as he chased Her mouth back to his, feeling how every piece of Her was coated in pure fucking joy—that the tears were happy tears. She was so goddamn happy it was making him feel fucking alive—alive in a way that only She knew how to be, where everything was beautiful and had meaning and somehow Ben was still everything to Her—and he couldn’t fight the grin from crossing his face and She settled back into her seat, fully taking the flower from his hand and looking at it like it she looked at him. Adoring and soft, Her whole face relaxed and not an ounce of pain or fear over her perfect features. She looked at the flower like it was a piece of Ben he’d carved out to offer Her, and that made the stupidity of picking his wife a flower feel more than goddamn worth it.

He’d fucking done it again. Not his wife, yet. Ben could, probably, ask right fucking now and get it right, but they were on a time limit. They had an hour left to go before they reached Edgar, and couldn’t afford to use time for Ben to pull her back over him and tell Her to fucking marry me, Sunshine, because I love you and I’ll give you a whole fucking garden if you ask me to. I’ll kiss you stupid on the grass, surrounded by as many flowers as you want, then fuck you stupider until you’re this happy all the goddamn time. I’ll buy you all the damn snacks you need, and drink a million more of those shit fucking cock-drinks if it always makes you giggle. Just fucking marry me, and I’ll love you however you ask for the rest of our lives. Forever. I’ll love you for fucking ever. 

But stupid things like not letting America fall and crumble under Vought and Homelander made Ben have to start the engine and keep moving. His hand had returned to its home on Her thigh as she rambled about every single, pointless, perfect thought that popped into her head. She loved the color pink, and Ben wasn’t allowed to call it stupid or girly, or she’d put pink and blue glitter in his shampoo and then kick him in the balls. She loved flowers as well, and was proud of Ben for not killing Van-Pussy, and he’d somehow managed to grab her favorite Pop Tart flavor. She made him share her water, and threw an Oreo at his face when he grumbled about how he should’ve fucking killed Van-Pussy, and started reaching between his legs to grab chips as she spoke, which didn’t fucking help him focus on the road at all.

Ben had apparently gotten her a rose milkweed, which was a primary attractor of Monarch Butterflies.

“How fuck do you know that-“

“I went to butterfly garden when I was a kid.” She shrugged, still smiling at the flower and twirling it between her fingers. “They had these everywhere.” 

He grunted—of course She’d just have fucking remembered that—and let her continue on a tangent about butterflies and flowers and whatever the fuck else she wanted to talk about. She was distracted from the meeting with Edgar— drawing closer and closer the longer they drove—and Ben got to hear her voice, so he was good. He could glance at her every few minutes and feel his mouth twitch at the eager, bright expression on her face as she spoke, and wonder if She’d want to go to a butterfly garden again. If that would make Her keep smiling like this, if She might tackle him and call him amazing again.

He’d gave to figure that out later. Right now, they were parking in the back lot of Edgar’s prison, and had a fucking job to do. She’d slowly fallen silent as they’d driven through the gate—her hand tapping against Ben’s and teeth visible as she gnawed on her lips—and when the engine turned off, Ben waited. Stay right at Her fucking side, holding and watching her until she took a long, heavy breath and met his eyes.

“The plan-“

“Go in,” Ben grunted. “Give Edgar the keys, but not the V, and clear my debt. Try and get him to tell us what the fuck the keys are for, and let you take the lead if he asks about the V. No talking to anyone but Edgar and MM’s contact, no lingering and fighting if shit goes south. If hell breaks loose, get the fuck out and don’t look back.”

She nodded slowly. “If another guard asks who we are?”

“Let our insider take of it.”

“And if someone recognizes us-“

“They won’t,” Ben grinned, reaching over and dropping Her sunglasses from her brow to her nose. “Because we won’t be around long enough for a single fucking pussy to realize who we are.”

“Do you-“

Ben grabbed the stupid fucking Red Sox cap she’d bought him from the backseat, glowering at Her as he dropped it over his hair. “There is no goddamn reason it had to be Red Sox-“

“The reason is that I think you look very handsome,” an infinite, sharp light danced in Her eyes, and she leaned up to kiss Ben over his beard, holding his jaw with a gentle touch. “When you’re so grumpy about a hat.”

“It’s fucking blue-“

“You’ll live, you massive fucking baby.” She dropped back, giving her own body—wearing her sunglasses, Ben’s green shirt, and a green jacket Annie had gifted to her—a dramatic gesture. “And I’m wearing enough green for both of us. Let’s haul ass Pretty Boy, so we can get it over with.”

Ben scowled, but climbed out of the car, half-running around the car to get her door before She could even fucking think to do it herself.

She smiled up at him—taking Ben’s hand and letting him help her out of her seat—and pressed Her palm to his chest as she gave him one last kiss. Barely a brush, just enough for Ben to have time to wrap his around fully around her waist and hold her face, dragging his thumb over her lips as they separated.

“Such a fucking gentleman.”

She was teasing him, but the words still made Ben’s heart almost pound out of his goddamn chest, made his whole fucking body wrathful and illuminated and fall in time with Her. Her, Her, Her, Ben fucking loved Her, and nothing was could have been better than this, be better than this, be better than them, burning together fucking always.

“Shut up, brat.“ Ben rolled his eyes, deciding to ignore how she could obviously fuck see—and defiantly fucking feel—how everything in his body was made of rough, permanent, immoveable affection and love for Her. “Ready?”

“Ready.” Her hand fisted in Ben’s shirt, her head dropping to take long, steady breaths against him before looking back up, her face set and focused. “Let’s do this.”

MM’s contact was a surly, uptight man who worked for the prison and grunted more than Ben did. He’d looked them up and down, muttered a request for proof of identification—neither of them had that, so She set her hand on fire and Ben snapped the man’s baton in half—and then nodded, gesturing for them to follow him. If he thought it was noteworthy how Ben’s arm was resting on Her hips—held there by her hand over his—the man was smart enough not to say a fucking thing and only lead them long, twisting, empty halls to a steel-doored room, identical to last time.

“He’s in there,” the man—he’d said his name, and Ben hadn’t been fucked to remember it—told them, looking Her and Ben up and down with a frown. “You got an hour before he needs to be back in his cell.”

“Got it,” She was braced at Ben’s side, every word coming out careful and neutral. “Thank you.”

The man just shrugged, moving to stand against the wall and keep guard. “MM wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t serious as shit, so don’t worry about it.”

She sighed, nodding, and looked back to Ben. I’ve got the keys, is it okay if I do most of the talking-

The talking is your shit, Sunshine. Ben kissed the space between Her eyes, dropping his head until their brows were pressed together and he could study Her pretty, sharp eyes. I’ve got you, but you’re doing the damn talking.

Okay. She took another, grounding breath, and Her heartbeat grew a little more natural before she pulled back, and pushed the door open.

Edgar was indeed waiting for them, handcuffed to a table and humming bland tune that halted as they entered the room.

He said Her name first, eyes not even fucking darting to Ben. “How lovely to see you again.”

“Is it?” She dropped in one of the two metal chairs across from Edgar, pulling Ben with her. “I’d say it’s mediocre at best.”

Edgar huffed a small laugh. “I suppose the circumstances could improve vastly, but at least you have Benjamin.”

Ben got a nod, and before he could snap at Edgar to stop fucking calling him that, She did it for him. 

“Edgar,” She leaned over the table, eyes on Edgar’s a dry, silent threat. “For both our sakes, don’t call him that.”

“Ah.” Edgar hummed Her name. “I never took you for the territorial sort-“ 

“I’m not. But every time you call my Ben Benjamin, you’re in danger of getting your head ripped off, which would be a real bummer for you, and I’m in danger of visualizing things I have no interest in visualizing.” 

“Would I be able to hear an example of such a thing-“ 

“Do you have a guess as to what three times I call him Benjamin the most are?” She barely waited a second for Edgar to think before she continued a lazy, edged smile on her face. “Never mind, I’ll just tell you. When I’m pissed at him, when I’m telling him I love him, and when he’s fucking me. So forgive me if I don’t want to imagine my boyfriend’s cock in your mouth, Stan. I think I’m doing us all a favor with that.”

Ben might have made sour, lip-curled face at the idea of Edgar giving him head if his brain wasn’t spinning around Her calling him her boyfriend again. Husband would sound better. My husband was almost as fucking good as my Ben, and they did very fucking similar things to his whole fucking existence. Reduced everything to Her, a riot and song of Her.

Edgar didn’t have the same thing weighing down his disgust, though, because the pussy just sighed, shaking his head. “Your very disturbing point has been taken. Shall we move to business?”

“What else are we even here for?”

��Indeed.” Edgar looked between them, Ben rigid at Her side and her fingers tapping a quick, unyielding pattern of Moon River on the table. “I trust you managed to fulfill my request without issue?” 

Ben wouldn’t call Red River without issue—between Her having to move around a Vought Facility by herself, Ben being unable to do a single fucking thing but wait and try not to punch Hughie in the throat as he offered attempted words of comfort, and the whole fucking Ashley thing, it was a little damn insane nobody had died—but She nodded, giving Edgar a passive shrug.

“Everyone made it out in one piece. Consider your request,” She reached into her pocket and held up the keys for Edgar to see before tossing them onto the table. “Fulfilled.”

Edgar barely fucking looked at the keys, just enough to acknowledge their presence before returning his gaze to Her. “I’d hazard that you’ve speculated on their nature with your delightful band of misfits?”

“We’d be terrible at our jobs if we didn’t.”

“Most of you are quite awful at your jobs. But you,” Edgar said Her name with a thin-lipped smile. “Seem quite capable. Would you mind sharing with me your conclusions?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Would you tell me if I hit on anything correct?”

“I’d offer one better, and share their home and use with you. All you have to do is tell me what you believe my answer will be.”

She paused, blinking at Edgar, and Ben frowned. They hadn’t expected Edgar to just fucking volunteer that information.

I don’t fucking trust it, Sunshine-

I don’t either. She glances over at him, and Ben could see a little hint of quickly drying blood as she chewed through her lips. But we have to play his game, and get this over with.

“Whenever you care to begin-“

“Fine.” She turned back to Edgar, cutting him off with clipped words. “I think it’s for a house, or some other form of private property.”

A small, snake-like smile played on Edgar’s lips. “Why?”

“Because it’s a skeleton key, but it’s also magnet based, which means it’s meant to unlock multiple, potentially high-security doors. It’s an intricate design, complicated, which means it’s probably not just as house, but all the same it’s yours. Not Vought’s. Vought would’ve sprung for a smart key. You chose not to.”

“Did I?” Edgar hummed, his face and tone still insufferably fucking unreadable. “Perhaps it is simply not that valuable-“

“Wrong. It is.” She poked at the keys on the table with a shrug. “If it’s a house, it’s a house with a name. Only rich assholes name their houses, and only weird cryptic fucks use fancy master keys. It might not be something dangerous, but it’s valuable. Important enough for you to hide.”

“Impressive.” Edgar nodded, his tone sounds almost fucking delighted. “Would you like to hear the real answer?”

She didn’t dignify Edgar’s words with anything but a half-passive shrug, Her eyes on him still sharp and clear.

“They are mine, but you were wrong in saying that they were not Vought’s as well. Before they came into my possession, they were the property of one Dr. Fredrick Vought. I’m sure you’ve heard of his unfortunate history-“

“You mean the Nazi thing?” She said, voice flat. “Yeah, I might have.”

“Do you remember who the Nazi’s were allied with, during Vought’s time within the party?“

“The axis powers were the Third Reich, Italy, and Japan. But I don’t-“

“Smart girl.” Edgar’s smile twisted further over his face. “See, Dr. Vought may have lost faith in Germany’s capabilities and defected to America, but he returned to Europe many times after the war’s conclusion. He’d made several friends within Mussolini’s party, and paid them a visit from time to time. It was a retreat for him, a time to enjoy like-minded company and get extra eyes on his various projects. Even after he’d perfected compound V, Vought still made many trips back to Italy, if only for leisure. Around the 60s, he went so far as to have a villa built in one of his favorite spots, and named it the Cornucopia. A villa I inherited when he stepped down, and passed me the mantle of Vought CEO. These,” Edgar nodded back to the keys. “Serve as the master key, for the master of the house. Myself.”

She frowned. “Wouldn’t that technically mean they’re Ashley’s? If the villa is traditionally passed down from CEO to CEO?”

“It would,” Edgar sighed. “I’m afraid it absolutely slipped my mind into the chaos of my arrest to alert my successor of its location or existence. However, given that Dr. Vought and I are the only two owners, I wouldn’t quite call it tradition, which is why I am more than comfortable skipping over Mr. Barrett altogether and gifting it to you.”

Ben had very fucking rarely seen Her purely shocked. Gaping and wide-eyed, her beautiful face a picture of confusion, looking at Edgar like he’d just started speaking a different fucking language.

“I, um, I don’t-“

She stuttered and tripped over words when she was short-circuiting. When Her brain was overloaded with fear or lust, and had worked itself into a fucking overdrive Ben usually knew how to fix—holding Her until she was happy again, or fucking Her until she was stupid and glossy-eyed, and managed to kick herself back into gear—but didn’t have a goddamn idea how to help now.

“What the fuck do you mean, gifting it to her.” Ben took over, squeezing his hand on her hips in a silent reassurance, and fucking prayed that some answers would help bring her back down. 

“I mean what I say. The property and all its contents now belong to you,” Edgar angled his head to Her, saying her full name.

“Why.”

“Because, Soldier Boy, I like her. A feeling I am sure you will not take issue with-“

Ben scowled. “You’re not the gifting type, you dick, so tell us why-“ 

“I am afraid it is no more complex than a simple an affection and well-wish. I’ve been feeling more generous,as of late, and no longer have use for a villa halfway across the world.” Edgar turned away from Ben, back to Her. “You are clever, with a hopefully bright future, and I believe you may find worth in it.”

That seemed to pull Her back down enough to respond, thought Her voice softer, more uncertain, than usual. “Worth? What kind of worth?” 

Edgar dismissed Her question entirely. “You may also keep your V. I do not doubt that you’d simply forgotten it,” he looked between Her and Ben with a raised brow. “But it was never fully mine to begin with. I trust you won’t be foolish with such a volatile and dangerous drug, and if you are, please keep it far away from me.”

She blinked, glancing back down to the keys. “I can’t take these-“

“Take them or not, they’re now yours.”

“But-“ 

“It is a gift,” Edgar said Her name, voice slightly more edged. “It cannot be returned. Should you leave the keys here, they will be your lost property. Your responsibility.”

“It’s,” She cleared her throat, raising her still voice to a steady tone. “It’s in Italy?”

Edgar nodded. “Rome. The northern area, I believe. Forgive me, I only had a chance to see it once.”

She swallowed slightly. “And it’s mine?”

“Correct.”

She pulled her gaze fully from the keys, onto Edgar. “Is that, that’s all? No hidden plans or debts or secret terms?”

“If you are asking about Soldier Boy’s debt, it is forgiven.” Edgar’s cold smile had returned, his attention moving to Ben. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, and I’d shake your hand, but as you can see,” he pulled slightly on his cuffs. “I am otherwise occupied.”

Ben just grunted, and she took a long breath.

“We’re done here, then?”

“Tragically, yes.” Edgar sighed. “Our time has run out.”

“Awesome.” She stood up, Ben’s arm half supporting her, and gave Edgar a small, tight nod. “Have a good life, I guess. And, uh, thanks.”

“Gifts do not require thanks,” Edgar said Her name with a bored smile. “And I am sure we will be seeing each other again.” 

“Yeah, well.” She grabbed the keys off the table, returning them to her pocket. “Here’s hoping we don’t.” 

Before they left, she found Edgar a piece of paper to write the address on, Ben giving Edgar a long, angry glare—just for the fucking sake of it—until She tugged him back into the hall. MM’s contact was waiting, and barely looked at them before he grunted to follow his lead out. Ben looked down at Her as they walked, a grin tugging at his face.

You got a fucking house.

Villa. She corrected him in Her head with a sigh, leaning further into his side. And it’s a Nazi villa, so I’m not exactly thrilled.

Who gives a fuck what it was, Sunshine. Ben nudged Her shoulder, waiting for her to look up before continuing. It’s yours now, and you can do whatever the hell you want with it.

She blinked at him as they exited the prison. Like what?

Fill it with bugs and rat shit. Or baby animals and chocolate-

That’s dangerous, Ben, a lot of animals can’t eat chocolate-

He rolled his eyes. Then make it a fucking hospital, smartass, or an orphanage. Live in it or blow it up. Whatever the fuck you do with it, it’s yours.

Ours. She smiled at Ben, and the radiance bloomed around his heart and along his spine. We’re fuck-buddy-brain-connected, Benjamin, so the villa is your problem as well.

He should do it now. Ben should just fucking pin Her against Butcher’s car, kiss Her until she was fully relaxed in his arms, drop to his knees, and do it. Tell Her that they’ll be fuck-buddy-brain-connected forever, and he’d never call them that aloud, so they should just get fucking married so she could say you’re my husband, Benjamin, so the villa is your problem as well, and Ben could kiss Her softly and mutter that nothing with her was a problem. She was the best thing in his fucking life, and she couldn’t be a problem if she tried. And She certainly fucking had. Also, just as another damn bonus, Ben could call Her his wife to anyone who was around to hear it, and they could have world-ending engagement sex in Butcher’s backseat, until the pussy couldn’t drive without smelling Ben’s cum and Her squirting.

And Ben probably would have actually gone through with that plan, had they not reached the car to find Sister Sage in the driver’s seat, sorting through their remaining snacks with The Deep at her side, his feet up on the dashboard.

Ben grabbed his gun—half shoving Her behind him as he yanked open the door—and pressed its barrel to Sage’s temple. “What the fuck are you pussies doing here.”

Sage didn’t even flinch, turning her head to meet their eyes and moving the gun to her brow as The Deep started to climb over, shouting protests Ben could barely hear over the ringing in his ears.

“Hey, dude! That’s not cool-“

“Deep,” She’d moved back to Ben’s side, a light hand on arm in a silent request not to yet shoot. “Shut up-“

“No, you shut up, you traitorous whore bitch-“

Ben re-aimed the gun at the Deep, who cut himself off with a swallow. “You watch your fucking mouth when you speak to her, fish-fuck.“

“Or what.” In a remarkable act of sheer fucking stupidity that was impossible to mistake for bravery, the Deep kept talking. “What’s so magic about her blowjobs that she’s got every fucking guy who gets one obsessed with her-“

Ben clicked off the safety, raising the gun slightly higher. “I warned you.“

“Hey, dude, woah, calm down.” The Deep raised his hands, cowering like a fucking pussy. “I didn’t know you were serious about-“

Sage raised her hand, and the Deep fell silent.

“Call off your hound,” Sage said Her name in a lazy, almost annoyed tone, and Ben’s grip on the gun almost snapped it in half. “We’re here to talk.”

She looked between Sage and the Deep with weary eyes, and didn’t tell Ben to lower the gun. “How did you know we were here.”

“We received a tip that the Anomaly and Soldier Boy were alone together in upstate New York, only an hour away from Stan Edgar’s prison.” Sage gave Here a flat look. “It doesn’t take genius to connect those dots. And I am a genius.”

She glanced at Ben. Fuck, someone must have recognized us-

Van-Pussy.

Who-

The asscuck that tried to hit on you. Nobody else but the cashier saw us, and she was high as tits.

Damn it. Light danced slightly in Her eyes, even as her expression remained set and passive. I should have let you kill him.

Ben knew She was joking, but that didn’t stop his grunted, smug response of, damn right you should have.

She wrinkled her nose at him and turned back to Sage, who was watching them with a titled head. “What do you want.”

“What was that?” Sage looked between Her and Ben with a wolfish smile. “What did you two just do?”

The Deep frowned. “They didn’t do anything, they just stared at each other for like a minute

“Exactly, you fucking idiot.” Sage rolled her eyes. “But something still happened. Can I guess?” 

“No.” She snapped, glancing back to the Deep. “What’s he doing here?”

“I got the tip, I fucking caught you-“

“You thought it was nothing.” Sage shot the Deep a cold glare. “And only told me because you’re mandated to pass on any report of the Anomaly’s actively.”

Ben heard Her heart pick up pace in her chest as the Deep turned red, stumbling over his words. “Well, I’m the one that had the helicopter idea-“

“And I flew it. You’re only here because you’d have gone to Homelander if you didn’t.” 

“You,” She looked between Sage and the Deep. “You haven’t told Homelander.”

“Of course not.” Sage dismissed Her with a shrug. “I’m here to talk to you, not monologue and blow you up.”

Her nails dug into Ben’s arm, and Her words were slow, careful. “That’s not interesting, is it.”

A smile that Ben didn’t fucking understand, but made Her lean further into him, crossed Sage’s face. “Exactly. Homelander’s a fucking idiot. I can’t have him messing this up.”

“Hey, don’t talk about my man Homelander like that, I could still tell him what you’re up to-“

“No, you can’t.” Sage didn’t look at the Deep as she cut him off, her attention locked between Ben and—primarily—Her. “Go to him now, and you’re an accomplice. You kept this from him, and he won’t be forgiving of that.”

The blood drained from the Deep’s face, and She cleared her throat. 

“Why are you here, Sage. What do you want.” 

“Like I said before, to talk-“ 

“About what.” 

Sage’s wolfish grin returned, cruel and jeering and fucking annoying as shit. “You’ll see.”

Ben kept his eyes on Sage and the Deep’s every movement as he spoke, low and gruff, down the line to Her head. I can just fucking shoot them, and we can go-

No. She sighed, squeezing Ben’s arm once. The only way out of this is to talk to them.

Or kill them-

Sage will have a failsafe for that. And I think she really is just here to talk.

Ben scowled. Why.

She knows she can’t kill us. Homelander, She took a heavy breath, and Ben risked a glance to see her face hollow and tired. Homelander isn’t here. He’s not the wait and hide type. And Sage won’t call him until she and the Deep are far away from whatever happens after he arrives. She has something to say, or she’d have just sent Homelander to start with. And I want to hear what it is.

They make single wrong fucking move-

And you shoot them. “Get out of the car, and we can talk.”

“Good choice.” Sage climbed out of the driver’s seat, crossing her arms as the Deep scrambled out behind her. “I’m sure we could all build a little more trust if I didn’t have a gun pointed at me for the duration of our conversation.”

“Tough fucking shit.” Ben growled, tracking the Deep’s stumbling steps to Sage’s side. “Talk.”

“Fine.” Sage sighed, turning to Her. “I believe you have something I want.”

Her features remained passive, but her body was half falling onto Ben’s. He shot an arm around Her waist—gun still set on Sage—and her hand held him there as she resounded with bored words. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Well, as I’m sure Ashley has told you-“

“I haven’t seen Ashley since I left the tower-“

“Please.” Sage gave Her a pointed look. “Ashley’s last known location was Red River, the same day that hours of camera footage were erased, and several windows were melted away. I know she’s defected, but it’s fine. I’ve accounted for it. But she may have mentioned to you that I’ve been hounding Stan Edgar for months, and you might be able to help me get what I want.”

“Why the fuck would we ever help you-“

Sage’s words were dry but firm over Ben’s. “Because everyone has something they want. And I could help you, if you helped me.”

“How,” She paused, studying Sage’s face. “Why would you help us?”

“I wouldn’t be helping you, I’d be exchanging a good for a service.” Sage looked between Her and Ben—Ben’s arm around Her body, Her finger’s tangled in his—and smirked. “If you give me the Cornucopia, I’ll help you get out.”

“What’s the Cornucopia-“

“What I’m looking for.“ Sage shrugged. “Edgar told me he had someone retrieving it, and now you’re here. When you find it, bring it to me instead, and you’ll be done. Forever.”

Ben caught it that time. The slight stumble of Her heart tipped him off, but he hadn’t missed those words. When you find it. Sage didn’t know they had it now.

They had a fucking advantage.

Sunshine-

I know. “What do you mean done.” She asked aloud, eyes narrowed. “How is that our end.”

“Because you’ll be gone.” Sage said, a glint in her eyes. “You’ll leave New York, leave Butcher and his cohort of idiots, leave Vought and Homelander and this whole fucking country, and never look back. And I’ll ensure nobody ever finds you again.”

Ben went rigid. Out. Really fucking out, with nobody to ever bother them again. She’d be safe, and Ben would be with her. Nobody would ever try to take him away from Her, and nothing would make her cry anything but happy, easy tears for the rest of their fucking lives.

“Why.” She frowned, fingers tapping on Ben’s hand. “If Ben and I go, that’s it. No more games, or battles. It’s not interesting.”

“It could be.” Sage grinned, and it was fucking blood-curling. “You could make one last statement, really fuck up everything up, and leave. You could affirm Starlight’s story, tell Homelander you’ve never loved him, and I’d have to clean that up. You could shoot Butcher up with that V you stole from Homelander, and let them go scorched earth while you’re far, far away from it. Fucking your boyfriend and never thinking about any of this again. You could make it interesting, however you want, and get out. I’m sure you want out. Wouldn’t it be so nice for you to just be done?”

It would be the be best thing in the goddamn world to be done. To leave, and never look back. To just be at goddamn peace together, and fuck on a beach or in a forest, and let some other sorry fuckers deal with the fallout of this whole goddamn thing. Ben had faith in Her ability to deal Sage one last blow that would be difficult to fix, and their team would be able get the V and kill Homelander themselves. Sage might fucking stab them in the back, but they could take extra precautions themselves. Measures to make sure that it was just Her and Ben forever.

But no Ryan. None of the rest of their team, and no freedom. Ben could hear Her heart—stuttering and rapid against him—and knew that this would just be locking Her up in a new goddamn way. And Ben wouldn’t be fucking worthy of Her. He’d be pulling her away from every single other thing she loved—and a few things he tolerated more than others—just to have her to himself. And he’d never fucking do that to her. She deserved to have the whole fucking world, not just a small sliver Sage offered them. She wouldn’t be able to help anyone, and She needed to help, or she’d go fucking insane. They’d both be away from Ryan, and the kid was just starting to calm the fuck down and stop blaming himself for everything. Christ, She was just starting to stop blaming herself of everything. And Ben, Ben was still repenting.

He was repenting. He was fucking repenting, and this war was part of that. His whole goddamn life was about Her, and he knew that if he told Sage he was in, She’d love him enough to follow him. She loved Ben, and it still wasn’t something he’d ever fully deserve—how infinite and powerful and intoxicating Her love was—so had to keep goddamn earning it.

“Shove it up your evil fucking ass with the stick, Sage.” He grunted, his hold on Her hips tightening. “We don’t need your goddamn help. We can get out ourselves, after we kill all you spineless fucking pussies.”

Sage gave him an almost amused look. “The offer wasn’t for you to decide on, Soldier Boy-“

“His answer is my answer.” She cut Sage off with a shrug, and Ben felt something hot and prideful and loud grow near his heart. “No.”

“You’d let a foolish, violent man speak for you?” Sage scoffed Her name, and Her hand grew warm in Ben’s. “Even if you love him, I’d have expected better-“

“Why?” She snapped,  the look of pure fucking blood and exhausted wrath on her face one Ben knew to mean danger. “Everyone keeps expecting better of me, but they really fucking shouldn’t. I’m going to let Ben speak for me, because he loves me, and he knows me. We’ll pass on your offer, but thanks.”

Sage’s face was drawn in a tight frown and analytical glare, probably trying to figure out how to talk them over to her side—she wouldn’t fucking succeeded—but the Deep was gaping. Looking between Her and Ben with wide, confused eyes.

“You,” The Deep cleared his throat, voice uncertain. “You dudes are like, in love love? Not just fucking?”

Something sparked in Her eyes, and she leaned forward slightly as she answered. “Yep. Love love. But we do also fuck. A lot.”

The Deep swallow. “Oh.”

“Real nasty sex as well.” She shrugged, a smirk playing over her pretty lips. “He’s good with his hands, and his dick is huge. I mean, the sex would be good regardless, I love him more than life, but he has a massive dick. It helps.”

Ben frowned, glaring down at Her. What the fuck are you doing.

Trust me. We need to rile him up.

Why the hell-

Sage can’t stand stupidity. If we can get her to fight with the Deep, the dumbest person I know, then one of them might slip.

Ben looked back to the Deep, and if that was what they needed to do, it was working. The fish-pussy had turned red, and his eyes seemed like they were going to pop out of his goddamn head.

“Uh, congrats. Sage, we should like, tell Homelander that-“

“Do not tell Homelander anything, you fucking idiot.” Sage hissed. “And shut up-“

“But if they’re like, really serious-“ The Deep cut himself off, looking back to Her. “Is it serious-“

“Yes.” Ben’s words were short and firm, because he’d been five fucking seconds from proposing to Her before these two goddamn fuckheads had shown up. She looked up at him with a small smile and sharp amusement, bumping their shoulders.

It’s serious, Pretty Boy?

Shut the fuck up. Ben rolled his eyes at Her pretty, perfect, teasing face. I love you, or course it’s fucking serious.

She hummed, a little light blooming in Ben’s head, even as Sage and the Deep continued arguing. We are fuck-buddy-brain-connected. 

Brat- 

“If it’s serious,” the Deep was still fucking whining, and Sage looked two seconds from punching him. “Homie should know. He thinks she still loves him, but she’s clearly with Soldier Boy-“

She snorted. “Did you just fucking call Homelander Homie?”

“Yeah, I did.” The Deep’s chest puffed out, and he shot Her a glare. “He’s my bro, and I’m not going to let some hot piece of ass string him along when she’s in love with his dad-“ 

Ben moved to gun to the Deep, and the pussy’s words stuttered off. “Fucking watch it.” 

“Hey man,” the Deep raised his hands, palms up. “I was like, fucking around before, but her head can’t be that good. Homie deserves better, and you’re like, a man man. Don’t let some chick control you-“

“I don’t control him.” She snapped, and Sage fucking laughed. A dry, empty laugh that made Her swallow and Ben feel fucking sick as he re-aimed the gun at Sage’s head. 

“Doesn’t she?” Sage looked between them, voice dripping with a mocking, fake sweetness. “I remember Soldier Boy being an honorable, strong gentleman. But here you are, pointing a gun at a vulnerable woman when you’re at a clear advantage, letting to your girlfriend tell you what to do like a pathetic little dog.”

Ben didn’t fucking care about Sage’s mocking words. He was being honorable, because he was protecting Her. He was fucking helping her, and listening to Her because she fucking had this, and Ben trusted her. He wasn’t listening to a woman, he was listening to his woman. The most perfect one in history, who was half hanging off his arm with glazed eyes, her breathing mechanical as something loose and hollow writhed around in Ben’s—Her—gut.

And that was what Ben fucking cared about. How Sage’s words had made everything fucking horrid and vile because She was hurt by them, and nothing was fucking allowed to hurt her. Not when Ben could fucking do something about it.

“You are not a vulnerable woman,” Ben hissed at Sage, something like bile on his tongue. “You’re an evil, conniving bitch.”

Sage didn’t even goddamn waver, continuing as if Ben hadn’t even fucking spoken. “It’s not healthy, your little arrangement. Love or not, you’re going to be lost and alone when she eventually leaves you.” Sage’s jeering, skin-crawling smile was covering her whole fucking face. “And she will leave you, Soldier Boy. She’ll realizes that you’re not a white knight, come to save her and the world from Homelander, and she’ll leave you.”

“Watch your fucking mouth-“

“You’re not an angel. You’re not good enough to heal what Homelander did to her, and she’ll realize that soon.” Ben’s vision was lined with red, his body goddamn frozen as drums sounded far, far in the distance, and Sage kept fucking talking. “That Homelander gets all his anger from somewhere. That you’re no better than he is, because when she tries to leave you, you won’t let her go. You’ll grovel like a child, and when she says no, you’ll force her to stay. Lock her up and keep her just for yourself-“

She was moving before Ben even fucking registered that She’d let go of his arm. Her smoking, flame-wrapped fist flew through the air and collided with Sage’s face, and a hiss echoed through the air as Sage let out a shriek of pain. Ben saw a flash of something metallic—the Deep shouting and flying at Her with a raised fist—and shot. The fish-fuck landed in the dirt at Sage’s side, the bullet wound on his shoulder more than fucking effective as he whimpered in pain. It wasn’t enough to kill the pussy—She hadn’t killed Sage, so Ben had followed suit—but enough to bleed out if no aid arrived.

“You manipulative fucking cunt.” She was a step in front of Ben, glaring down and Sage and the Deep on the pavement. “Ben might not be a white knight, but he’s nothing like Homelander, and you fucking know it. He’s certainly a better fucking person than you are.”

Sage’s words were unsteady and strained, but still crude. Still fucking hateful. “If you really believe that, you’re not as smart as I gave you credit for-“ 

“And I don’t fucking care.” She hissed. “Next time you say anything like that to him, I’ll burn your fucking brain out of your skull.”

“We’re not done here-“ 

She huffed a dry, empty laugh. “Yeah. You are. Ben and I are going to leave, and you’re not going to follow us. And if you try to call Homie, then it will be over. I’ll kill everyone, and that will be it.” 

Sage scoffed Her name. “You can’t really think I’ll fall for such an obvious bluff-“

“I don’t need you to, because it’s not a bluff.” She leaned down slightly, holding Sage’s glare. “Homelander shows up, I kill him, and you, and the Deep. If that somehow kills me, then fine. At least it we’ll be done. Really fucking done. No games. Not interesting.”

Sage spat out blood, eyes narrowed on Her’s. “That’s cheating.”

“Maybe,” She shrugged, rising back up and looping her arm through Ben’s. “But I don’t care.”

Something was still fucking aching and toxic in Ben’s body and she pulled him back to the car. It hadn’t been a bluff. Ben knew how to read Her bluffs, and that hadn’t fucking been one. And She wouldn’t have killed Ben. He would’ve been left to wait in a scorched forest for the rest of goddamn time, waiting for Her to walk out of the smoke and smile at him again. She’d have burned out without him, and he’d never be able to fucking hold her again.

Sage doesn’t know what the Cornucopia is. She slid into the passenger’s seat, letting out a long breath. But she’s still looking for it, which isn’t good-

Ben grunted Her name between their heads, his grip on the wheel white-knuckled, bending the metal under his hands. You know I’d never fucking do that shit to you-

Of course I know that-

And I’ll never let Homelander hurt you again. Ben started the engine, holding Her attention with a glare. If he ever fucking comes for you, you’re not fighting him alone. You burn, I burn, Sunshine, that was the fucking deal. We’d kill Homelander and Sage and the Deep, together. Got it?

She gave Ben a soft smile, and nodded, her voice in his head low and gentle. I got it. Ready?

Ben grunted. Ready. You’re good.

I’m good. She sighed, leaning her head onto Ben’s shoulder as he began to drive. I’ve got you, Benjamin, my love. I’m good.

Even as they drove away from Sage and the Deep on the pavement, with a whole new fucking problem that was made of what the fuck do they do about the Cornucopia now on their hands, Ben grinned. That radiance covered his chest and gut and skin, and nothing really fucking mattered but Her, and finishing this. Finally being free of this dogshit circus, and being a little more worthy of Her hand in his, forever.

There wasn’t really that much shit left to do before they could be free, and together, forever.

—————————

It’s been a long, shit fucking day, and you’re only halfway done with it. Your blood is yours, and your skin barely has an itch beneath it, but you’re so fucking tired.

And you’re not sure if it’s that piece of your brain inside of him, or just how well Ben knows you, but the asshole has started to coddle you. His hand has returned to rest on your thigh—it’s there so often you’re starting to think his palm has developed some sort of magnet to your leg—and he’s very obviously doing everything he can to distract you from how this is your last shot. That this might end with blood in gutters and covering hands, but—if you do this right—it will all be done. This has to be done. There are too many other battles to fight for this truly critical one to not be wonsoon.

And Ben won’t let you think about that. He seems to have decided for himself that his job is to drive you around—because he’s a dick who has flat out refused to ever let you behind the wheel of a car on account of it being dangerous to everyone on the fucking road—and keep your brain everywhere but they imminent threat of Homelander. Sage. The CIA and Mallory, what will the after look like and who gets to have one, why would Edgar just give you a Nazi villa, and what the fuck does Sage want with it when she doesn’t even seem to know it’s a villa-

“You’re hungry.”

You look over to Ben, his eyes set on the road ahead of you. “What?”

“Your stomach,” he mutters. “It growled. You’re hungry.”

You are hungry. And it might just be Ben’s deep, firm, certain voice and how your body obeys it more than you, but it doesn’t really matter because suddenly you realize that you’re hungry.You’d eaten breakfast this morning, before you’d left for Edgar, and then the snacks Ben had bought you close to noon, but that’s it. It’s late afternoon, the sky turning red and gold on the horizon, and you’re really, really hungry.

“There’s a rest stop in a few miles-“

“No.” Ben snaps, glancing at you with a scowl. “Not a fucking chance.”

You sigh, because he’s right. You can’t risk being recognized again, and this wouldn’t be a sketchy, overgrown gas station. This was a rest stop on an interstate highway.

“So what should we do?” You watch Ben carefully, because you can feel his resolve ripping in half, and you think he’s fighting with himself about something.

“They still got McDonalds on highways?”

You smile, propping your chin on his shoulder. “Are we in America?”

Ben snorts, and the resolve settles back into itself. Firm and concrete and all around you like a hot, stone shield. “Brat.”

“Cunt. Are we getting McDonalds?”

He gives you a curt nod, eyes darting to meet yours and the glow inside him crossing over your ribs and blooming in your heart.

He’s so fucking handsome. The sunset is making him look golden—dark hair and defined features and eyes that follow you in the earth and fill you with life—and it’s not making it easy for to you remind yourself that he’s not an angel.

It helps to remember that angels aren’t real, and Ben is very real. He’s warm under your touch, and strong and careful in his natural hold on you. His thumb is rubbing circles on your skin, and his arm muscles keep flexing as he drives, and you want them around you, holding you to his chest as his cock hits that deepest spot inside you. You want to see his beautiful eyes watch you unravel under him, want to hear his low, teasing, affectionate voice make your stomach warm as he calls you good and beautiful and darling-

“Are you going to answer me, Sunshine, or just keep fucking drooling?”

You blink, and see his smirk, feel his whole body rushing with a cocky, bright pride. “I don’t-“

“You were staring, and it’s real fucking rude,” He drawls your name, squeezing his hand against you. “I’m not a piece of meat for you to objectifine.”

“Objectify.” You correct, even as your face grows warm. “And I don’t feel that bad about objectifying you, Pretty Boy. You’ve objectified me.”

“When the fuck-“

“What was the very first thing you noticed about me?”

Ben pauses, brows drawn, and you realize he’s actually thinking about it. You’d expected a small grunt of how the fuck am I supposed to remember that, Sunshine, it was over half a goddamn year ago, but his fist is clenched on the wheel, and he’s glowering at the road, so he’s really trying to give you an actual answer.

“Heartbeat.”

You tilt your head at him. “Heartbeat?”

“Your heartbeat was normal,” he grunts, his jaw set and words low. “When you woke me up. Mallory, Butcher, and Annie were all being anxious pussies, and Hughie was going to fucking piss himself, but you weren’t afraid. Of me.”

Ben glances at you as he finished, something so bloody and powerful inside of his body, and his gaze filled with it. A twisted and pious awe that’s all for you, that ignites your blood in a way that makes you feel seen. Seen and really fucking alive.

“I,” you swallow, fighting your urge to climb on top of Ben and kiss him all over his stupid, handsome face, if only because that’s not very safe driving. “Oh. I thought you’d say my tits.”

“I noticed your tits as well,” he shrugs, winking at you. “But that’s only because I’m not fucking dead, and you’re the most beautiful woman in history.”

You wrinkle your nose at him, and try to ignore how you need to touch him, or else you might explode into a mess of Ben. Loving you and always being so sweet at the worst, most inconvenient time. “Shut up-”

“No.” Suddenly, something is tight and sore over your lungs and around your throat—Ben’s lungs and throat—and when he speaks again, his voice is low and tense. “What did you notice about me.”

“Honesty, I don’t remember.” You sigh, a little guilt eating at your heart and gut when Ben’s frown deepens. “I was a little, um, out of it. I didn’t really think I’d like you all that much, let alone, uh, love you.”

You swallow, because even though Ben knows you love him now, this feels strange to say. Like you’re mostly rolling your eyes at your past self, who had truly believed she’d be able to wake up Soldier Boy, keep him in line with powers she could barely control, live with him in a mutual contempt, and leave him without a second thought at the end. She had been a real fucking idiot, because you’re never going to leave Ben. He’ll have to peel you off of him and snap your heart in two, and even then you might try to crawl after him and beg him to change his mind.

But that’s another reason why you love him. Ben wouldn’t ever hurt you, let alone like that. He’ll keep you against him and hold you carefully and reverently for the rest of time, and if you fell to your knees and begged him to stay with you, he’d pick you up, kiss you, and call you fucking stupid for thinking he’d ever leave you.

Right now, though, he’s just nodding with almost a pout on his face, and you can feel the soreness inside him grow.

“But,” you push forward, offering him a soft smile that you mean with all your heart, which belongs to Ben. “I think I know when I started loving you.”

Ben glances at you again, almost wearily. “You said that didn’t matter to you.”

“It doesn’t,” you shrug. “I feel like I’ve loved you forever, and that’s all I care about. But if you want to know-“

He gives a quick grunt of affirmation, the soreness pounding and clenching over him—growing slightly electric, almost wild—and you take a long breath.

“The club. That we went to with the team. I, um, I liked being near you, and I didn’t want to stop being near you.” The soreness starts to ease away, but Ben’s grip on the wheel is white-knuckled, and your body is still sore and tensed, so you continue. “Just the, um, just the thought of you calmed me down. And you looked really handsome, and I liked when you laughed and smiled at me, and holding your hand felt good. I didn’t ever want to stop holding your hand, and that was scary, but not because of you, because I’ve never been scared of you, just because I didn’t want to leave you, and I’d never felt that before, I didn’t think I’d ever feel it at all, after Homelander, and I think that’s why I didn’t immediately realize I loved you, because I’d never been in love like this before. I mean, it was really confusing, because my job was to make sure you didn’t go rogue, but I was mostly just thinking about you and boob-drugs-“

Ben cuts off your rambling with a scowl. “Why the fuck were you thinking about boob-drugs.”

“You liked her,” you mumble, burying your face in his arm. “And I didn’t want to care, but I did-“

“I didn’t like her.”

You shake your head against him. “You don’t have to lie, Ben-“ 

“I don’t fucking lie to you,” he snaps, and you chance at look up at him. Still golden in the light of the sunset, impossibly handsome with an almost confused scowl and deep words you can feel in your chest. “She was an annoying bitch, I didn’t give a fuck about her.”

“But you were, um,” you force the words out, chewing on your tongue. “You were hungry.”

“What-“ 

“For her. I could feel your hunger for her, and it’s your lust-“ 

“That was for you, smartass.”

The whole world because blurred and sharp all at once—like it does when you’re under Ben, with some part of him inside you and getting you high on just his touch and smell and feel—and you realize Ben is better than an angel, because he’s yours. This stubborn, grumpy, impossible man is all yours, and you can feel his love hot and focused in your chest.

“Oh.”

Ben snorts slightly, and you can feel an airy, smug disbelief in his head. “Have you seriously been thinking I was trying to fuck Boob-Drugs this whole time-“

“Fuck you-“

“I wanted to.” Ben grins, and the soreness is obliterated by a swelling, hot and bright feeling in his chest and spine. “I wanted to pick you up and fuck you on that table, Sunshine. You were the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I’m never going want to fuck anyone but you again.” He turns his head, eyes still on the road, and kisses your brow. “I told you my dick is yours, darling, and it has been for a damn long while. I love you, not some fucking coke whore in a club.”

A smile tugs at your lips, and you press your head back into his body, moving one hand to tangle in his. I love you too. And if it helps, my pussy is yours.

Ben chuckles, and it rolls through your body, leaving everything soft and calm in its wake. Good.

You nod, a little stupidly, and start to wonder if Ben asking you to marry him hadn’t just been a half-dream created by all your love for him that lived with your head. That it hadn’t just been a wishful haze born from the smell of pine and taste of salt, or the feel of warm safety around you and constant loop of Ben, Ben, Ben that was everything good. If the deep words you’d felt in your bones weren’t just created by your cock-drunk, Ben-drunk brain.

You don’t get to ask, though, because Ben’s pulling into the rest stop and demanding your order before repeating it in rough words to the drive-thru speaker. You put on your sunglasses, just for safety, and Ben leans his body forward to half-block any view of you from the cashier and serving windows.

From there, the rest of the drive is impossibly easy. Things with Ben are always easy, but you know that he’s working harder than usual to keep it that way. He lets you put on music to cover the rumble of the engine, and gives you pointed glares when your food starts to be forgotten in your hands. He’s indulging in your every rant about nothing, pulling you out of any spiraling thoughts of three hours to Boston, three hours until you’re either one step closer to killing Homelander or dead in the water with such skill that you’re starting to wonder if he’s studied for this. If Ben’s trained himself to keep your head clear, and your smile on your face instead of fading into the haunting thoughts of soon. Soon you may have to fight-

“Ryan told me you got him a bunch of fucking books.”

You nod, and your smile spreads a little wider, a little more naturally. “I did. He read all of Butcher’s.”

“Butcher reads?”

“Allegedly, yes.”

Ben snorts. “That pussy doesn’t have the damn patience-“

“Benjamin, my love, you don’t have the patience. You have the attention span of a toddler.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he grumbles, but every inch of annoyance on his face is fake, because you can feel all his affection and care in your body. Warm and innate and permanent. “I am not a toddler-“

“No,” you hum, giving him a sweet, teasing smile. “But you are a massive fucking man baby. My massive fucking man baby, who I love very much and takes very good care of me.”

He rolls his eyes, and the glow moves up his spine. “Brat.”

“Cunt. Do you think Ryan’s okay?”

Ben’s frown deepens. “Of course he’s okay, he’s got us. The kid has finally started to fly and laser at the same time, and you’re real fucking kind to him when he gets all sad about his pussy-fuck father-“ 

“I mean with everyone away.” You cut Ben off with a sigh, even as his words make the world around you soft and vivid and lined with a light you never want to lose. “This is all hands, and he’s all by himself-“

“He’s strong.” Ben squeezes his hand in yours, voice firm and everything in him made of an unwavering, concrete care. “He’s a smart kid, who’s gotten through a fuck ton more than one day alone. We’ll be home soon, and you can fuss all over him-“

“I do not fuss-“

Ben chuckles, shaking his head as a flash of amusement runs between your bodies. “You fuss all the damn time. Christ, you fuss over me,” he grins down at you as he says your name, and it makes everything in you a little electric. “But you’re a fuck ton meaner about it.”

“Well Ryan’s nicer to me,” you stick your tongue out at him. “And you’re an asshole.”

“But you still fucking fuss.” Ben winks at you, pulling your hand up to kiss your knuckles. “Because you love me.”

“I do love you,” you mutter. ”But I don’t fuss. You fuss.”

“The fuck I do-“

“You always make me eat.” You lean forwards, kissing his jaw. “And you make sure Ryan’s doing well in school, And you never let us push ourselves, and you’re always making sure we’re okay, and you love us-“

“Whatever.” Ben grumbles, glaring at the lamp-lit road, and you giggle.

“Grumpy-“

“Shut the fuck up.” He rolls his eyes, frown twitching as you lean into his side. “You’re lucky I love you-“

“I know.” You turn your face to nuzzle into his shoulder, ensuring that every breath is Ben. Pine and salt and gunpowder and Ben. “I really am.”

The glow returns in a full, brutal force, and it’s like a sedative. The world starts to blur in a way that you don’t want to hide or run from, and Ben is muttering low words that you can’t hear but still feel in your body. Soothing your head and easing you into a molten warmth that’s just too good to fight. Your eyes start to droop, and just before everything turns into a dark, simple daze of sleep, you feel a big, rough, warm hand brush hair from your face, and rumble of words that you don’t fully understand but, still make you know that everything is right here. That voice is Ben’s—everything around you is Ben—and he loves you, and nothing bad can really happen as long as that’s true.

And it will always be true, and that knowledge pulls you all the way under, into dreams of sunlight and green and something perfect that’s just out of reach, but still yours. Still everything, and made of love so strong you feel it a little beyond your body.

It’s all you feel until a finger you recognize as everything good brushes over your lip, and you drag your eyes open to find Ben watching you. His gaze is attentive and devout, and when you smile at him everything becomes ardor and a zealous wrath of love in your chest. Feral and watchful and protective, in a perfect time with the song in your head of Ben. The night is dark, but you can still see light everywhere because Ben.

You know you’ve arrived—there are horns blaring in the distance, and you can smell the pungent, briny ocean of the Boston docks—but you’re still breathing without thought because Ben is here, and you can fucking do this.

You’re okay.

I’m okay. You take a heavy breath, grounding yourself in Ben’s solid, strong body against yours—fingers holding your chin with a firm, gentle touch, an arm wrapped over your shoulders with a hand rubbing patterns in your skin—and his determined, concrete feeling of care. Are we ready?

Whenever you are.

You nod, peeling yourself away from where you’d slump and molded into Ben’s hold, but lean back to give him one, soft kiss on the cheek. I love you.

I love you too, he mutters in your head, tangling at hand in your hair and gently moving your mouth to his. We’ve fucking got this.

You hum into Ben’s kiss, holding his face between your hand, keeping his brow against yours when you separate for breath. We’ve got this. 

Ben had parked right next to the limo, so you shed your jacket and sunglasses before climbing out, replacing them with a black hoodie that will hopefully lend you some stealth, and follow Ben out of the car.

When you knock of the driver’s window, it rolls down to reveal a scowling Butcher, his arm hanging out the window as he looks over you and Ben with contempt.

“It’s nine fucking thirty.”

“Congratulation on being able to read a clock, asscuck-“

“We said eight forty-five.” Butcher cut off Ben with a snapping hiss “You horny fuckin twats are late. Again.”

“These roads are fucking dogshit.” Ben shrugs, holding Butcher’s glare with an indifference. “Let us in the damn limo so we can get this over with.”

Butcher lets out a huff of annoyance, stands out of the driver’s seat, opens the back doors, and lets you and Ben climb in before following and locking the door behind him.

“You’re late-“

“Someone wouldn’t let me drive,” you give MM an apologetic look as Ben pulls you half onto his lap. “We’d have been here two hours early if he did-“

“I don’t let you drive,” Ben drawls. “Because you’re a fucking criminal behind the wheel.”

“No, I’m not-“

“You are, Sunshine. Christ, Hughie and Kimiko have seen it,” Ben turns to them, brows raised. “She’s a fucking menace when she drives, isn’t she.”

Kimiko just signs I don’t care, it’s fun, but Hughie’s eyes widen, his facing turning red.

“I, um, I’ve only seen it once, and it was kind of an intense day-“ Hughie’s stutters are cut off by Annie, placing a hand on his shoulder and glaring at Ben.

“Don’t do that to him, Ben. He’ll have a panic attack about picking a side and we’ll have to wait until he calms down.”

Everyone freezes, and you know it’s not just you that heard it.

“Did you,” MM clears his throat, eyes narrowing at Annie with a frown. “You called him-“

“C’mon guys.” Annie gives a flat look around the dead quiet limo. “I mean, he’s clearly here for the long term, and it’s been getting weird to call him Soldier Boy when I talk to you,” Annie nods in your direction, saying your name with a bored tone. “About how much you love him and how good his dick is.”

Your whole face flushes as Butcher lets out a sputtering cough, Frenchie gives Ben a nod of respect, and MM’s gape almost unhinges his jaw.

Ben himself isn’t at all helpful, kissing the top of your head and wrapped in a smug, blazing feeling of energy that—when you lean back to glare at him—makes him look almost boyish. He’s looking down at you, nothing but want and love and adoration in his eyes, and you almost whimper at how effectively he’s pulling you apart under his gaze. He looks so happy—even with the mission only one strict reminder to remain on track away—and nobody’s but Ben has ever looked at you like that before. Like he’s proud just to be at your side, as if you’ve given him something just by loving him. You think you have, because his grin is so wide and handsome and cocky, and his words in you are so certain you can feel it settle in your veins and nerves.

Christ, you must really love me if you’ve got Annie calling me my damn name-

Fuck you, Benjamin-

You want to. You fucking love me. He squeezes his arms around you, eyes dancing with cocky, comfortable light. You really damn love me.

You know I love you, you asshole. Shut up. 

No. I’m allowed to brag about my woman loving me as much as I goddamn want-

MM let out a long, half-groaning sigh, shaking his head and rubbing his jaw. “You know what, we don’t got the time for this. Let’s do this shit, and then Soldier Boy can be Ben to you motherfuckers all he wants, as long as I never have to hear about his dick again. Hughie-“

“The warehouse should be clear, I didn’t see anyone on their cams.” Hughie glances at Annie, who’d dropped her hand from his shoulder to rest over his own. “Annie, can you-“

“I can fry them.” Annie frowns into the air. “But I don’t know if I’ll be able to only fry the cams, I might take out the lights too-“

“We got that fuckin covered, Starlight, don’t worry your blonde little head.“ Butcher nods to Frenchie, who pulls a bag out from under his seat.

“I have made them solar powered,” Frenchie pulls a flashlight, displaying it for the whole team to see. “And left them in the sun for several hours. Should we be plunged into the darkness,” he makes a dramatic gesture, grinning around the limo. “There will be light.”

Annie leans backward with a relieved expression, and you tap your fingers on Ben’s forearm as you speak.

“We all know what we’re looking for?”

MM nods. “If those papers were up to date, six to seven crates label RRD.”

“Red River Donations,” Butcher mutters. “Bloody cunts not even tryin to hide it.”

You swallow, pushing on. “And the plan? Everyone got that?”

“In and out, Madame.” Frenchie says your name with a solemn tone, chest puffed. “No messes, no trail, no fuckery.”

“No fuckery.” You nod, chewing on your cheek until you taste metal. “No evidence. Annie, if you can, try to fry out a few of the other warehouses, so it looks like a circuit blew. And no matter what, we’re just getting the V.” You give Butcher a firm glare. “Got it?”

“I’m all fuckin in, Love.” Butcher gives you a sarcastic—but not crude or mocking—grin. “Like Frenchie said, in and out, and all you cunts can be home to jerk each other off by midnight.”

You flip him off, and look back to the rest of the group. “MM, you’ve got-”

“Groupings, after we all get armed. Look alive motherfuckers, here we go.”

“Here we go.” You echo, looking around this limo with a tight, close-lipped smile that hurts your face. “Make it quick, stick together, and no fuckery.”

Everyone makes various sounds of agreement, shuffling out of the limo in silence. Ben keeps his arm around you as you separate from the group—weapons being passed out and Butcher lecturing Hughie about how to drive a limo, and to not throw a fuckin raver while we’re gone, Lad—so you lean into his body, forcing your breathing to stay in time with his.

I’m sticking with you, Ben grunts, popping Butcher’s trunk to grab his guns and shield. And if MM tries to pair me off with someone else- 

He won’t. You’re stuck with me, Pretty Boy. Get used to it. You watch Ben’s stoic expression carefully, reaching up a hand to trace over the deep lines on his face. When he looks down at you—all his concern and care like armor over your skin—something softens in his eyes.

Good. Ben leans down, kissing the space between your eyes. I like being stuck with you. Even when you’re a fucking brat.

I like being stuck with you too, cunt. You wrap your arms around torso, burying your head in his chest and just breathing in Ben. Pine and gunpowder and Ben. Strong and certain and yours, holding you until you rest your chin on his chest, studying his narrowed, concerned frown you can feel all over your skin and like lead in your heart. If there’s no V-

There will be. His voice is almost stern grunt in your head, and his brow drops to yours. We’ve fucking got this.

You nod, and stay here—with Ben—until it’s not an option anymore. Until holding his face between your hands and sharing his breath doesn’t fully stop your brain and heart from racing, but solidifies the instinct of Ben just a little bit more. It’s already carved into you, already permanent, but it keeps growing stronger. Keeps finding its way into deeper parts of you that might have just not existed before, but are now pulling open for Ben to have. And finding a new place for Ben to be a part of you—this one somewhere across your skin, bitten by the chill of ocean wind and beginning to come down, down, down into something green and warm—will have to be enough.

You and Ben return to the group—one of his arms over your shoulders, and the other holding his shield at his side—and you take in how everyone but seemingly you and Annie is armed. Even Hughie has a gun, even if he keeps glancing at it like it might try to run away from him. But you don’t think Annie knows how to shoot, and you don’t need a gun. The fire is all yours under your skin, and Ben’s at your side, so you’ll be fine. The night air is wired and suffocating, and every distant city noise sets off a cold flare in your body, but you’ll be fine.

“We’re splitting in half,” MM grunts. “Two supes per team, Hughie holding down the fort. I’ve got Annie, Kimiko, and Frenchie.” MM says your name with a short nod, and something lights up over your bones when you realize you’re in charge of group two. “Is taking Soldier Boy and Butcher. And if anyone tries to fight me on this shit, I’ll shoot them, so don’t fucking test me.”

Butcher glowers, slowly closing his mouth with an eye roll, and you look up at the blue-tinted sky, not a star in sight.

“Annie, can you-“

The words barely leave your mouth before the world starts to fry, crackling and sparking around you. For a second, everything is blinding light, scorching into your eyes and lingering for a painful second before you’re able to see the dark harbor and warehouse, visible in the distant lights of the city and sky.

You got lucky. Your eyes healed within half a second, but most everyone else is still rubbing and blinking, and Annie’s looking around the half-blinded group with a guilty expression.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry guys-“ 

“They’ll be fine,” Ben snaps, face slightly scrunched as his own eyes recover. “A little light isn’t going to goddamn kill the pussies, Annie, don’t fucking whine.”

Annie nods slowly with a little less shame in her eyes, Kimiko places a reassuring hand on her arm, and you bump Ben’s shoulder with yours.

That was very sweet of you, Benjamin, my love-

Shut the fuck up. Ben grumbles your name between your heads, raising you a little off the ground as he kisses the side of your head. Feeling guilty is only going to slow us down-

You twist your head, moving Ben’s mouth to yours for a simple, easy, gentle kiss. I know. But you still made her feel better. So thank you.

He just grunts—deepening the kiss until his tongue is tracing over your teeth and his hand his kneading at your skin—and you let out a soft, airy sigh. You can fucking do this, and then your whole life will get to be moments like this. Where Ben’s glaring at you, but you know he doesn’t mean it because you can feel him wrathful and fond and rough, rolling around in your chest and humming with an affection and love that’s more real and tangible than anything else in the world.

You can do this.

Kimiko and Ben open the doors of the warehouse—blackened and filled with cold, drafting winds—as Frenchie passes out the flashlights and Butcher stomps to your side, a scowl on his face you can feel searing into you.

“I got somethin you need to answer, Love.” He mutters, and you drag your gaze from Ben to meet his eyes.

“Butcher, we don’t have time-“

“Edgar.” He hisses, glare narrowed and firm. “You and the simpin cunt better have gotten some answers for me-“

You give Butcher an amused look. “Did you just say simping-“

“Love, I’ll call that puppy dog of yours whatever the bloody hell I want. Tell me what Edgar told you.”

Ben-

I know. I can hear. What the fuck is a simping-

I’ll tell you later. I’m going to tell Butcher about the Cornucopia, but not the extra V. I need you to back me up on what-

I always back you up, Sunshine, don’t be fucking stupid.

Your face flushes slightly as you return your attention to Butcher, and you have to fight the small smile tugging at your lips from how annoyed Ben sounded at the very idea that he’d ever stand against you.

“We’ve got to move,” you tell Butcher, flexing your fingers slightly. “I’ll tell you while we look.”

Butcher’s jaw twitches, but he nods. “Fine. Let’s get this shit over and fucked out.”

Ben returns to you—and now Butcher, both men glaring at each other like if they stop their dicks will fall off—and you look over to MM’s team with a tense, grim smile.

“If you find it first, get it back to Hughie and have Annie send out a signal. If we get it first, I’ll send the signal. Annie-“ 

“Long flash for regrouping, short for,” Annie swallows. “Emergencies.”

“Okay, good.” You look into the seemingly infinite darkness of the warehouse, chewing on your lower lip as you speak. “We’ll take left, you guys take right. No wandering, and don’t be stupid.”

MM nods. “Good luck, motherfuckers. See you on the other side.”

They go in first, Annie’s hand lit up and everyone else holding guns and flashlights. For a second the daunting, long shelves and halls of the warehouse are illuminated, and when they’re cast in shadows that fade back to pitch black once more, you light a small fire in your palm and take a long breath.

“Shelf by shelf.” You don’t bother to look at Ben or Butcher as you speak, because Ben always listens and Butcher’s a dick, but not an idiot. “Try and be subtle, and keep each other’s backs. Ready?”

You hear two low grunts, and roll your eyes.

“Can I get a verbal affirmation, testosterone representatives?”

“Stop wastin time, Love, and just bloody go-“

“Don’t fucking talk to her like that.” Ben sneers, and you turn to glare at them both.

“Rules.” You snap, eyes narrowing and the fire in your hand growing a little brighter, feeling a little more inlaid and pure in your body. “Benjamin, you’re the love of my life and I adore you, but if you spend the whole time pissing off Butcher you lose blowjob privileges for a month, and you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“In the doghouse Gov, tough fuckin luck-“

“And you.” You turn your glare to Butcher, and he falls silent with eyes wider than you’ve seen them before. “If you antagonize him, I’ll kill you myself. Got it?”

You get a crude, huffed agreement from Butcher and take it, turning back to the warehouse.

“Let’s do this.”

For the first five rows, you search in silence. Ben and Butcher keep their guns raised—the former directly at your side and the latter a pace behind—and you realize that Butcher’s shock and compliance hadn’t just been from your words. Your fingertips are wrapped in a white flame that casts long shadows on the floors and walls when you move, and when you turn to look at Ben around the end of shelf four, he’s watching you with an awe.

Fucking Christ, Sunshine.

You frown at him. What?

Your eyes. They’re burning.

They don’t feel like they’re burning. Your vision is clear, and your fire is controlled like an extended muscle as the ghost-like flames light the warehouse, so you shake your head slightly. No, they’re not-

The fuck they’re not. “Butcher.” Ben grunts, his eyes still on yours, hitting something deep in your body and unraveling it with a care you feel along your spine. “What do her eyes look like.”

Butcher glances at you and scoffs. “The fuck am I supposed to say, fire? She got fire-eyes?”

Ben gives you a pointed, smug look, and you wrinkle your nose at him. “Shut up.”

“Looks hot.” Ben shrugs, winking at you. “I wouldn’t be mad if you broke that out later.” He pauses, then adds. “For sex.“

You snort. “Yeah, I got that part by myself, Pretty Boy-“

“Can you twats not eye-fuck each other right in front of me?” Butcher sneers, poking at a crate with his gun, glaring at it like the box is personally responsible for you and Ben. “I ain’t a prude, but it’s bloody disgusting, keep it in your fuckin brain connection shit-“

“The Ben’o’phone.” You nod, not bothering to fight your smile at Ben’s adorable, grumpy glare.

“We agreed not to fucking call it that-“

“I didn’t agree to anything, Benjamin, my love. And you haven’t pitched anything else-“

“I’m not pitching fucking shit, but I’ll eat Butcher’s ass before I call it that-“ 

“Come near my ass, Gov, and I’ll fuckin shoot you.” Butcher grunts, his glare turning back to you. “And you still need to get real bloody specific about Edgar-“

“The debt is cleared.” You cut Butcher off with short, well-chosen words. “Edgar is, hopefully, not our issue anymore.”

“And the Cornucopia-“

“He,” you sigh, bracing yourself for Butcher’s reaction. “He gave it to me.”

Butcher freezes, looking you up and down with a taut, deep glare. “The fuck are you talkin about. The bloody tits were the keys ever for-”

“A villa in Rome.” Your fingers start to tap on nothing, and you keep your voice neutral and even as you continue. “It was Fredrick Vought’s, then Edgar’s, and now, apparently, it’s mine.”

“In Rome.” Butcher repeats, shaking his head slightly. “Dr. Vought had a villa in Rome and Edgar is just handin it to you? Nah, Love, that ain’t trackin-“

“Well, it’s the truth.” You snap. “I don’t understand it either, but it’s all we’ve got to go on. Now can we please keep moving-“

Suddenly, Ben goes rigid. Standing slightly taller, looking around the shelves with an almost feral attention you can feel raging in your chest, wrapping over your lungs.

Ben-

You hear the click of Ben’s gun, and he takes one stride to stand in front of you, the barrel pointed in the direction of the warehouse entrance. Stay quiet.

Benjamin, what’s-

“The fuckin hell is wrong with you-“

Ben cuts Butcher off with a hiss. “Shut the fuck up, you pussy. We’re not alone.”

Your blood goes cold, a chill hitting your body that makes everything suddenly far too taut and electric around you. “Ben,” you whisper. “How many.”

“One.” He grunts, taking a half-step back so he can glance at you. His jaw is clenched, voice low. “Fast heart. Not Homelander.”

The world stops blurring, but you’re still on edge. Nobody should know you’re here, and if a single person catches you, this whole thing could blow. “Who-“

“William!” A cool, angry voice echoes through the warehouse. “I know you and the Boys are here. Are you a fucking idiot?”

All three of you become rooted in place as you recognize the owner of the shout, sharing wide-eyed expression of shock.

“What the fuck is Mallory doing here,” you whisper, words pushed through your teeth. “How did she even know-“

“This is remarkably risky and stupid, even for you dumbasses.” Mallory continues yelling, and you see Ben’s grip on the gun become white. “Stealing government property is a felony, and I can’t let you-“

Butcher hisses your name, nodding to your still burning fingers. “You have to turn the nightlight off, right fuckin now-“

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to pull the fire back under your skin, but it keeps itching and scraping its way back out as Mallory’s words ring through the warehouse.

“I know you’re here, and unless you want to fucking abandon Campbell for me to arrest-“

“Hughie!” That’s Annie’s voice, and it’s frantic, in a sizzling time with the wires above your head. “Mallory, this isn’t his fault-“

“I don’t care whose fault it is, I need you all to come out so we can talk like adults and not petulant children!”

You feel Ben’s body press slightly into yours, and open your eyes to see him watching you. They’re moving. What’s our play.

I don’t know. You shake your head, your nails digging into your skin as you try to pull the fire back down. Ben, how did she know we’re here. Who else-

Someone’s calling your name, and the fire flares up your arm. It’s a nervous, softer voice, and it’s Ryan’s.

Your name echoes around you once more, and then, “Ben? Butcher? Aunt Grace said you’re in trouble, I want to help-“

You start running to the entrance of the warehouse, the ringing in your ears only just quiet enough to still hear Ben and Butcher barely steps behind you.

“Ryan!” You’re half-screaming, not caring that Mallory can hear you. “Where are you?!”

Ben overtakes you in a second, his voice in your head urgent and low. Front entrance-

You don’t bother to listen to the rest, breaking into a full-on sprint until you can see the break of the skyline, dark over the ocean, and seven silhouettes in the door. You skid to a stop—Ben catching your arm to prevent a stumbling fall—and take in MM, Annie, Kimiko, and Frenchie in tight stances off to the side, Hughie with a sheepish, anxious expression trying to slowly inch closer to Annie, Ryan a pace outside the warehouse, and Mallory at his side, gun raised and aimed right at your head.

“Don’t move,” Mallory warns, the gun clicking. “I will shoot.”

You feel Ben’s hand tighten on your arm to an almost bruising grip, his own wrath moving the earth under your feet, but your fury is hotter and brighter, zealous and unforgiving as you narrow your eyes at Mallory.

“What the fuck did you do,” you hiss, flattening a palm on Ben’s chest in a silent signal not to move. “Did you bring Ryan-“

Mallory scoffs. “Of course I didn’t bring Ryan, he must have followed me-“

“I wanted to help,” Ryan whispers, his whole face pale, his body curling into itself slightly. “I’m getting stronger, I can help-“

“Ryan, this ain’t something for you to do.” Butcher grunts, taking one, slow step closer to the entrance. “And you, Grace, are you out of your bloody mind? Tellin the kid we’re in danger just to fuckin one-up us-“

“I am doing my job.” Mallory snaps, re-aiming the gun at Butcher. “You are disobeying direct orders from the president-“

“That order was wrong, Grace.” MM mutters. “And you know it-“

Mallory sighs. “This isn’t the time for that, Marvin. We can’t afford to lose sight of order right now, and you are still CIA employees-“

“We’re not.” Ben grunts, rising to his full height as he glowers at Mallory. “You don’t fucking pay us. We can do whatever to goddamn hell we to get the job done-“

“Soldier Boy,” Mallory warns. “I’d advise you remember the conditions of your deal-“

Ben snorts, raising his own gun. “Fuck your deal. Ryan, get inside.”

“Ryan, don’t move.” Mallory holds Ben’s glare, her gun moving to not him, but you. “You’re all going to come peacefully, or I’ll shoot-“

It’s your turn to laugh. A dry cackle that you hate the sound of, because it’s fueled by something hateful and cruel. “Go ahead. I’ll live and you have to know that he’ll,” you tilt your head to Ben. “Kill you. Immediately.”

“You’re not the type to make threats,” Mallory says your name, even as her gaze flits to Ben. “And you overestimate your importance to this operation-“

“Do I?” You shrug. “I don’t think I do. I think you’d be fucked without me. Without Ben. Ryan,” you look past Mallory, your heart straining and turning over at the pure fear on Ryan’s face. “Please come here, it’s not safe to stay outside right now, this is dangerous-“

“He’s a supe.” Mallory snaps, and Ryan starts to lean forward, like he wants to run but can’t. “He’ll be fine-“

“He shouldn’t have to be.” You stretch out a hand to Ryan, the fire starting to dim. “Ryan, I know you want to help, but this isn’t the place. We’re not in danger now, but we can’t risk lingering here. Please-“

Ryan takes a tentative step forward, and Mallory’s face twists into a sneer in your direction.

“You are not his guardian,” she says your name, taking a side-step to block Ryan’s path. “Neither you nor Solider Boy have any claim to him-“

“He’s my fucking grandson-“

Mallory cut’s Ben off with a scoff. “Who you tried to kill-“

“You ain’t better, Grace.” Butcher mutters, and you realize his own gun has risen back up, aimed right a Mallory’s chest. “You’d use the kid as a fuckin weapon against his psycho cunt father-“

“Homelander?” Ryan whispers, watching Mallory with a slack, almost tragic expression. “You want me to, to fight my dad-“

“You’re stronger,” Mallory snaps, her voice flat, words spoken as if they’re inherent. As if it’s obvious that Ryan must fight Homelander. “You’d kill him, and we wouldn’t have to waste time with the V-“

“But the V would work, right? Ben said it would work-“

“Soldier Boy,” Mallory shoots Ben a daggered glare. “Has lost sight of the mission. You are our best bet, Ryan, as the Anomaly has failed to stand against Homelander.”

Annie’s mouth falls open, and you feel relief flash through you as you realize Hughie has made it back to her side. “It’s not her fucking job to fight her rapist, Mallory-“

“If it isn’t,” Mallory’s gaze returns to you, and you feel something start to bubble over between your joint and in your muscles. “Then the responsibility falls to Ryan.”

“I, I don’t want to fight him.” Ryan stutters. “I’m sorry, I don’t, I know what he’s done, but I can’t-“

“You won’t.” Ben snaps, jerking his head in your direction. “Go to her, Ryan.” There’s a pause, long and heavy in your lungs, and then Ben grunts, “please,” and it dissipates as Ryan starts to move.

“Ryan-“

“I don’t want to fight, Aunt Grace,” Ryan mumbles, walking slowly past Mallory. “I just want to help, without anyone else getting, getting hurt because of me.“

Ryan reaches your side, and the flames waver almost instantly into smoke as he wraps a hand around your arm, clinging to you like he might drift away if he doesn’t. Almost on instinct you pull him a little closer, wrapping him in a hug as Ben shifts his body to fully block you and Ryan from Mallory’s gaze.

“Soldier Boy, watch yourself. I will not hesitate to return you to the box.”

Your hands tense slightly on Ryan’s head, and you try to keep your breathing steady for his sake as you hear Ben’s drums, watch the muscles of his back tense at the words.

“Walk away, Grace.” MM grunts, and from the corner of your eye you see his gun raise as well, and hear Mallory’s noise of disbelief. “We’re going to take the V, take Ryan, and leave. You’ll see us again when the dust settles, but I’d advise you take a leave of absence right fucking now.”

“Marvin, have you forgotten that this asshole killed your family-“

“No.” MM’s words are certain, resolved and flat. “I haven’t. But I’m practicing some motherfucking forgiveness, and no matter what I’m not letting you put the kid in the line of fire. Last warning. Leave.”

There’s sounds of shifting, and when you glance around you realize that everyone has raised their weapons. All aimed at Mallory, all paired with solemn, grave expressions as they move like a wall in front of you and Ryan. At Ben’s side.

And—between the space of Ben and Butcher’s bodies—you see Mallory lower her gun with a thin lipped, cold glare. 

And you smell coconut.

And something is wrong.

Ben-

You hear him first. Behind you, with stiff steps and humming an off-key, patriotic tune. And when you whirl around—keeping Ryan steady against your body, his face hidden from full view—your veins bite with frost, and something broken wails and twists in your gut.

“Well, well, well.” Homelander’s smiling is wide, all white teeth, made of a rage that’s in every tense muscle on his face, and there’s a glint of something like poison in his eyes. “What a lovely coincidence to run into all you here!” His eyes scan over your group, and you don’t have to look back to know they’ve all frozen. You can feel Ben’s eyes looking between you and Homelander, hear the drums drawing closer as that part of him inside you begins to riot and bang on your ribcage.

Ben grunts your name in your head, and you realize you’ve started to lean back. Closer to him, further from Homelander. You need to get behind me right fucking now-

I can’t. Your breathing is forced, in and out of your body as you try to stifle the horrible, artificial, sickly smell of Homelander. Try to pretend he’s not close enough that you can see the slight wrinkles on his suit. If I move, he’ll move.

“It really is all of you, isn’t it?” Homelander sounds delighted, and you feel sick. Cold and vile, suffocating and unable to draw in any new air. “The whole gang is here! Oh, this is too good, we can be done in ten minutes tops!“

“How the fuck did you get here, Homelander.” Annie hisses. “How did you find us-“

“I followed Ryan, of course.” Homelander’s turns back to you, his smile growing manic, and you hold Ryan a little closer. “Good flying, son, but let’s work on getting a little higher up in the air next time, huh? Don’t want satellites to track you again.”

He laughs—continuing to taunt Annie with words you don’t hear—and Ryan looks up at you with a panic in his eyes you feel scratching at your skin and heart, making everything too sharp and bright, filling the world with a terror that lives in Ryan’s chest.

“I didn’t mean to,” Ryan whispers your name, and his voice pleading. “I didn’t mean to, I promise, I just wanted to help-“

“I know you did.” You run a hand over his brow, forcing your voice to be soothing as your eyes darting between every rise and fall of Homelander’s chest and Ryan’s pallid features. “It’s okay. I’m not mad.”

“I, I’m sorry-“

“I know.” You repeat, swallowing down a bile in your throat that’s made of either Ryan’s fear or yours. It’s hard to really tell the difference. “You’re going to be okay, Ryan, I promise.”

There is no guarantee you can keep that promise. But you will do everything in your fucking power to make sure Ryan gets out of this, and you know Ben—alive inside you, alert and wrathful behind you—will do the same.

Then Homelander says your name, you have to meet his eyes. You have to keep Ryan against you, and try not to just scream as blue, cold, hateful and evil eyes carve into your head, violating and invasive and wrong.

“Thank you, honey, for getting Ryan for me. Come here. Now.”

“I,” you take a long breath, and a shaking half step back. “No. You’re not touching him.”

“Fine, you can hold him.” Homelander rolls his eyes, extending a red-gloved hand. “I mean, I’m glad you’re finally getting into that mother bond shit, but he’s still my son. I’ll want him back eventually, and we’ll get you another one once this is all just a funny story to tell our it.”

“No.” Your voice is a little louder this time, and the cracks over your head and heart are starting to leak something like venom into your teeth, spitting with every word. “You’re not touching either of us. Ever.”

Homelander’s eyes narrow. “Are you still throwing this temper tantrum? I got it the first time,” he snaps your name, and you can feel Ben roar inside of you. “I’ll let you outside more, and you can do, let’s call it 50% less TV appearances. But I can’t kill these fucking idiots until you’re over here, and this is a family affair, so let’s get this over with and we’ll talk about it more at home-“

“They ain’t goin anywhere with you, cunt.” Butcher snaps, and you see his move forward in your periphery. “And you don’t got a family. You’re just a sorry, lonely fuckin murderer who don’t got no one.”

Homelander’s jaw twitches. “That’s cruel William. And wrong.I have my son, with your lovely wife, may she rest in peace, and my fiancée and I-“

“She is not your fucking fiancée,” Ben growls, and you can feel him move a little closer. “She’s not your anything.”

“What, do you think she’s yours, Soldier Boy?” Homelander sneers. “She’s using you to get back at me! She’s a lying, manipulative bitch-“

“Shut your pussy fucking mouth.” He’s another step closer, and you risk another inch back. “Don’t ever fucking speak about my wi-“

“Your what.” Homelander clicks his tongue, looking between you and Ben with disgust. “Your whore? Did she turn around spread her fucking legs for you, again? Are you so pathetic that you’d pick up your son’s scrappy seconds-“

“I am not yours.” You whisper, leaning back a little further, until you can feel the warmth from Ben’s body. Kindling something inside you that makes you raise your chin, holding Homelander’s glare. “And Ben isn’t pathetic. At the very least, he’s never had to make me do anything.”

Homelander’s eyes flash, his neck flexing spits his words through teeth. “This isn’t cute anymore,” he sneers your name, and you have to force a long breath so that smoke doesn’t curl from your hands. “We’re going home, and all will be forgiven. Fucking my father, being weak and letting these rats manipulate you, every childish stunt you’ve pulled to try and hurt me when I love you. It will all be behind us, if you come home now.”

“No-“

He shouts your name, and you flinch. “I have.” Homelander’s head jerks, and he lets out a long, harsh exhale. “I have done everything right for you. I have loved you, turned you into a god, ensured that our marriage will be fruitful by asking your mother for fucking permission to marry you! We could be fucking Olympians. I could be a king, and you could be my queen, and we could fill the fucking world with children like Ryan! Stronger! You could be Madonna, the world will remember and worship you for a million years-“

“They’ll remember me for this.” You whisper, making sure your grip on Ryan is firm, your body wrapped over his. When you run, you aren’t going to drop him. “For killing you.”

“Well,” Homelander’s mouth draws into a sour, scoffing line. “If that’s what this is about, here you go.”

Homelander’s eyes glow red, and you realize what’s going to happen a second before it does. Your mouth falls open—maybe to bargain, maybe to beg, maybe to scream—just as Homelander turns, and lasers right through the warehouse. Shelves crashing down, boxes breaking open, a fire setting off deep, deep in the falling building and starting to spread before Homelander’s even moved back to face you.

“There.” He spreads his arms wide, half-gesturing to the wreckage behind him. “No more V. No killing me. Now stop playing these childish, annoying fucking games and come here.”

You’re frozen. You can feel Ben rolling and bellowing inside you, just a slight falling movement away from you crashing into him, and when you chance a look at the rest of your team—their faces washed in the dancing shadows and lights of the fire—they’re like statues. Ryan is still clinging to you, his fear everywhere in your body, his breathing shallow and rushed, and you don’t know what to do. Everything is moving too slowly around you to process, and there’s only fire that’s not cleansing but bloody, air that’s choked in artificial coconut, and earth and pavement cracking under your feet as the warehouse start to fall.

Then you hear the soft click of a gun, and vaguely register Mallory, pushing forward to Homelander, emptying her rounds into his chest. Bullets that fall to the floor with a rattling sound of metal, off-beat with the drums drawing closer to Ben, off-key with the ringing in your ears, and Homelander’s eyes glow red once more.

You feel something that’s heated—but foul and sticky and foreign—on your skin, Homelander’s eyes return to blue once more, and everything speeds back up.

Everyone is shouting around you. Plans are being made to get out, to find a way to survive this, but you’re not listening. Ben is grabbing you from behind, turning to so his body blocks you from Homelander’s view, and grabbing your chin with his free hand.

Run. Get Ryan the fuck out and run.

Ben-

I’ll find you, I’ll always fucking find you. You feel something rotten and aching start to cover his heart, but it’s not as strong as his wrath. As the hot, resolved, concrete fury in Ben’s body, that’s wrapping around you and making the world sharp as he searches your face with an almost desperate gaze. I swear I’ll find you, Sunshine, but you need to fucking run-

You lean forward, this kiss is feral. Savage and hopeful and made of pure, raw love. He’s everything, and you’re making sure he feels it. I love you, Benjamin.

I love you too. Ben grunts your name, running his thumb over your cheekbone with a soft, reverent touch. Run.

You nod, and don’t spare more than a glance at the scene before you—Mallory’s body split open on the pavement, Ben, Annie, Kimiko, and Butcher fighting Homelander as Frenchie, MM, and Hughie mostly just dodge and try to land blows where they can—before you take Ryan and go.

You hear Homelander roar your name behind you, and you don’t look back. There are flashes of light and heat ripping through the sky, and bangs and clatters as the warehouse begins to fully cave in, but you just keep fucking moving.

It’s useless to go for the limo—you hear it implode only moments after you pass it—so you pull Ryan deeper into the harbor, past more and more warehouses, trying not to drag him but unable to afford a single broken pace. Hiding is your best bet. Ryan’s shaking in your arms, sobbing and half-falling as you pull him along. Everything in his is made of pure, crippling fear that takes every single fiber of your will to push through, and you’re not faring much better. When you crumble against the wall of a warehouse that hides you in shadows and the crashing sound of the ocean, it starts to catch up with you.

How everything is cold, and you can’t fucking breathe. Everything is crashing and shattering around you, and it’s constricting over your lungs, plunging you into a white-hot pain that would be numbing if it didn’t feel like something was bruising and beating and searing into your skin. It’s holding you awake by your throat, and it’s made of wrong. Ben is in danger, and the drums keep falling in and out of time, and everything is wrong. Everything is thrashing and pulling and brutal inside you, trying to pull you back to Ben, but you have to stay here.

You have to stay here. With Ryan. It’s awful and you hate it, but you can’t leave Ryan. Another blow leaves an aching, denting pain on your skin like a phantom is trying to beat you into the ground, but you have to stay here, with Ryan.

He gasps your name, and you try to curl over him a little more. You can’t flinch when something hits you in your gut, or shout in pain as a foreign burn scratches over your skin. You have to keep a quiet as you can, and stay with Ryan.

“I didn’t mean to,” his words are choked, and his hold on your body might crack your bones. “I, I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, I wanted to help-“

You let out a soft shush, running your hand through his hair and over his brow. “I know, I know.” You sigh, and gently pry Ryan off your body. He goes with ease, letting you move him back just enough to meet your eyes. “I know you didn’t, Ryan, I know. It’s okay.”

His eyes are glossy with tears, and you think that it might be blurring your own vision. That, or the devastating pain that crashes through your chest—like someone’s hit with you with a bomb—or the way you swear you can hear Ben’s roar of pain somewhere on the wind.

“I’m sorry-“ 

“I know.” You don’t bother to try and smile at him, but you let your gaze grow soft, forcing down a sick, rotting and mold-like feeling that’s spreading over your chest. “This isn’t your fault, Ryan. It’s not.”

“Ben-“

“He’s strong.” You whisper, and he is. Ben is still alight and bloody and unforgiving inside of you, and the drums haven’t faded. They’re pounding louder and louder in your ears—never quite close enough, but drawing closer—and Ben is strong. “And he won’t blame you either. He knows this isn’t your fault, he won’t even think to blame you.”

“My dad-“

“We won’t let him hurt you.” That’s a promise you won’t let yourself break, so you pull Ryan a little closer and let him bury his head in the top of your chest. “I promise, he won’t hurt you.” 

“Can you,” Ryan lets out a shaking breath, and his fear doesn’t fade, but becomes a little less like a disease. A little easier for you both to breathe through. “Can you keep talking? It’s, it’s really loud, I don’t like it.”

“Of course,” you push down another feeling of pain, pain inflicted on your skin by something evil and crushing against  your head like a boulder. “Is there anything-“

“How did you meet Ben?” Ryan leans back a little, watching you with nervous, almost child-like eyes. Like maybe this is just a horrible nightmare, and he’s seeking easy comfort so he can go back to sleep. “He’s told me, but he kind of swore a lot, and he, um, isn’t a great storyteller.”

“No, he’s not.” You huff a soft laugh, and even as something slices over your skin, there’s a warm feeling humming in your head that’s always made of love for Ben. “I mean, he can be, but he does swear a lot. He’s a very vulgar old asshole.” You let out an almost dreamy sigh, and something crashes into the side of your head as you whisper, “I love him so much.”

Ryan’s nod is small, and he’s still watching you with wide eyes. “Did you, was it love at first sight-“

“God, no.” You keep your fingers combing in even patterns through Ryan’s hair, and raise your voice just a little more when he flinches at another too-close bang. “I thought he was the worst. He was crass and rude and mean, and I’d only been told that he was an asshole. And he is an asshole. But he’s also caring and honorable and determined and protective and reliable and loyal and rational and good. And he loves us.” The smile that tugs on your face is real, and Ryan returns it tentatively. “He loves both of us. A lot.”

“What’s his favorite color?”

“Green,” you hum, your smile growing a little bit more. “And he hates blue. Thinks it’s a pussy color.”

Ryan nods. “That, um, I think I’ve heard him say that.”

“You probably-” you cut yourself off with a slight groan, something beginning to beat into your face. And then it’s gone, and you hear a shout of your name. It’s from a voice that makes cracks line your vision, and it’s far too close. “Ryan, fuck,” you start to pull yourself up, taking Ryan with you as your whole body becomes sore, stinging and throbbing with that strange pain. “We need to move-“

Something cracks on the ground, wind rushing past you, and you shove Ryan behind your body as the cold sets in. Reducing everything to Homelander. Nine paces away and looking at you with a callous, hateful face.

“It’s over,” he hisses your name, hands locked behind his back as he takes you and Ryan in. “Your precious Ben isn’t strong enough to kill me, nobody is strong enough to kill me, now stop being a fucking bitch and come home.”

“No.” You whisper, and it’s more of prayer. A plea for something to help you, because you’re too weak. Your fire has gone dormant, and your blood has begun to try and climb out of your body, but you can’t control anything enough to not hurt Ryan. “Please, Homelander, please just leave us alone-“

“You’re fucking mine, I made you both, and no amount of prancing around and showing off your little party trick is going to change that you belong to me. You will always fucking belong to me-“

He takes a step forward, and the air feels like lead. “Please, just, just leave Ryan-“

“Nope.” Another step, and a disapproving tsk. “You’re both coming home, and we’ll get through this as a family. Don’t you want a family,” he says your name, and you feel so small. You can’t draw yourself up, can barely look him in the fucking eyes because they haunt your worst nightmares with how they butcher and chop and destroy every part of you that’s yours. “I mean, fuck, you can’t think Soldier Boy would give you one? He doesn’t care, and he’ll probably just, you know,” Homelander slices his hand over his throat with a click of his tongue. “You when you try to leave him. He’s not patient like I am. Also, let’s face it, your options are limited. You’re a fucking bitch, you’re lucky you’re pretty enough for me to put up with all your fucking tricks and manipulation and how annoying you are-“

“I’m sorry, I’ll, I’ll try to be better, just please leave Ryan-“

Another step. You’re trying to think of a way out, but there isn’t one. You don’t want to go back, you can’t go back, you’ll fucking shatter if you go back, and Ben is roaring your name somewhere in the distance but Homelander’s too strong. He’s malignant and unkillable and there’s no way to kill him now. You know Ben is trying to get to you and Ryan—you can feel him getting closer, alive and nuclear in your body—but he won’t be fast enough. He’s closer—and you feel something tear open in the crook of your elbow—so you can try to delay Homelander until he gets here, but it’s a slim shot.

Then, just after another step, something kills you before Homelander’s even at an arms distance. The whole world turnsto agony. Pure fucking pain and horror and anguish and you’re dying. It’s shredding you apart, and your whole body is wrapped in an unending explosion of pain. Your lungs feel like iron and your bones are burning and your skin is being flayed and ripped open and death would be better than this. You’re screaming—you only know because you can hear shrieks of pain that sound like yours—and your vision is clouding with black spots as your head caves in on itself. Your blood is made of lightning, and every nerve is trying to fly off your body as this feeling pulls you apart, as your organs and muscles are thrown around inside your body, being pried open and filled with something atomic. And then they seal shut and you take a desperate, ragged breath as the world clears.

You’re leaning against the wall, half slumping onto Ryan, and the pain is still lingering in your body. But Homelander is four steps away, and starting to reach out, and you can hear something good bellowing your name.

You can’t move—everything moving too slow and too fast all at once—but you still see Ben running behind Homelander, to you. Closer, so fucking close, but Homelander turns and sees him and it’s not close enough.

You’ll have to protect Ryan. Homelander is turning back to you with a crude, violent smile, and you know you’ll have to protect Ryan. Take every bullet you can so Homelander doesn’t ever hurt Ryan. And you’ll hold on to Ben, and you’ll fight and scrape your way out, figure out a way to get both you and Ryan home.

Ben says your name again, and it’s the worst sound you’ve ever heard. It’s aching and tormented, like he, deep down, knows he won’t reach you on time. Your eyes lock onto his over Homelander’s shoulder, and try to smile at him. He’ll fight to get you. And you’ll always find your way back to him.

Homelander takes a lunging step, and you’re going to fucking survive this, and you’ll let the sound of Ben roaring your name haunt you in every dream until you get to hear him say it with a soft, easy devotion instead of a rabid, dreadful, wild desperation.

You keep your eyes on Ben’s as Homelander takes that last step, and then the world washes in gold. Everywhere around you, solid in a way that feels so familiar, and warm. Grounding you back in your head, clearing to world into something sharp and tangible and safe.

Homelander isn’t touching you. He’s punching against the layer of gold around you, and then flinching back with wide eyes and a strangled sound.

Then Ben comes up behind him, and smashes Homelander’s face right into the wall of light and energy around you before yanking him away, and tossing him halfway down the ally.

You press your hand against the gold, and realize it’s Ben. It’s so familiar because it’s simply just Ben. It’s humming at your touch—a little extra light growing where you’ve placed your hand—and you meet Ben’s firm, tense gaze with wide eyes.

Benjamin. What did you do.

Took the V. He glances down to where Homelander is groaning, starting to rise back up. Don’t let Ryan touch it, it feels like the nuke or some shit.

Are you fucking insane-

No, Ben looks back to you, and you feel him roll in your chest. It worked, and you’re safe. I’m fine-

You could’ve died, you dumbass-

But I fucking didn’t. Homelander’s on his feet against, and Ben’s body braces, his fist clenching at his side. Stay here.

You glance back to the wall—molding into and around your touch—and realize that if you pushed it a little more it might simply let you past. As if it counts you as a part of itself the same way your empathy counts Ben as a part of you.

“What, what’s going on-“

You wrap your arm back around Ryan, trying to shield his view as Ben deals the first punch and Homelander goes flying into a wired, barbed fence. “They’re fighting,” you whisper, unable to tear your eyes away as Homelander staggers back up, lasers Ben right in the chest, and a searing pain pulses in the exact same spot on your body. “Ben took some V. Don’t,” your gaze flies back to Ryan, and you catch his hand as it raises to the gold around you. “Don’t touch it. It could be dangerous.“

“But you touched it-“

“That’s,” you sigh, your body jerking as Homelander lands a blow on Ben’s gut. “That’s different. Ben and I are, um, we’re connected. It can’t hurt me.”

Ryan’s eyes widen. “Butcher told me you put your brain in him, and you can read each other minds-“

“Yeah, I,” you take a heavy breath as Ben doges Homelander’s next punch, and lands five in return. “I did. Plant my brain in him. But it’s not mind-reading, it’s more like texting. I send him thoughts, he-“ you make a choked sound as Homelander’s hand wraps around Ben’s throat, and a frantic gasp as Ben kicks Homelander back, his whole body seeming to glow through the haze of gold. The drums are clearer, falling into time faster. “Fuck, Ryan, cover your eyes.”

“Why-“

“Please,” you squeeze your arm around him, letting your gaze flick back to search over Ryan’s open, frightened expression you fell across your skin. It’s not the paralyzing fear from before, it’s heavy. Uncertain and head-wrecking. “You don’t need to see this, I promise-“

He just nods and buries his head in your arm. You hold him there, forcing your breaths in and out as the drums get closer. So close, Ben’s staring to illuminate the whole fucking world, and Homelander’s just fumbling on the ground-

He’s not fumbling. He’s groping at his own suit, trying to grab something.

No.

You don’t know if it’s just in your head, or called out to Ben aloud, or traded between your minds, but Ben looks up. At you.

Homelander throws something at Ben, it breaks on his chest, and you feel his panic—feral and animalistic and raw, covering every single part of your body and trying to rip out of your chest—right before his eyes widen, and then close.

Ben falls to the ground, the golden barrier around you fading away, and he’s quiet inside you. Not gone, never gone, but darkened.

Asleep.

And you’re not afraid anymore.

You’re angry.

You’re screaming Ben’s name, Homelander is standing up—dusting himself off and turning back to you—and you’re furious.

The whole world is made of fire. Your whole body is racked with it, building and churning under your skin, sealing over cracks and making breathing so fucking easy. The air is filled with smoke, but breathing isn’t an act of labor at all.

It’s a way to focus.

Because you’re going to kill Homelander.

He doesn’t see it coming. He’s an overconfident, narcissistic, monstrous pussy, so he doesn’t recognize that he did break you. A vital, impossibly powerful piece of you just snapped in your body when Ben crumbled on the ground, and your own voice sounds far away when you tell Ryan to run. To find Butcher, and go. 

And then you’re moving. Half-flying to Homelander, and savoring the parasitic, hostile fear that rushes through you when your flaming fist collides with his face.

You’re in complete fucking control. Homelander stumbles back, and you don’t even fucking flinch. Your whole body is burning, your clothes turning to scorched ash under the white-purple flame, and you’re standing tall. Looking down your chin at Homelander as he collects himself, looking at you with an almost confused expression. 

“What is this,“ he says your name, running his hand over where his skin has twisted and burned, and you don’t bother to hide your sneer as you answer.

“This is it, you cunt.” You hiss. “You’re never touching me, or anyone else I love again.”

“Oh, please, you do not love Soldier Boy-“

“You willing to bet on that?”

Homelander blinks, looking between your burning body and Ben’s sleeping one, and scoffs. “You can’t be fucking serious. You’d really leave me for him-“ 

“I’m not leaving you. I was never yours.” You take a step forward, the pavement cracking under your feet. “I do love him. I really, really love your father, because he’s a million fucking times the man you are. He’s never,” the fire building in your fists grows brighter. “Hurt me. He always fucking respects me. He loves me.” You slash an arm through the air, and the wave of fire that rolls from it sends Homelander scrambling back. “And after I kill you, I’m going to marry him. And then I’ll have his kids. And it won’t because I’m his fucking vessel, it will be because I want to. And they will never,” the air around you is waving and electric and Homelander’s eyes widen. “Even know your fucking name.”

It clicks. In Homelander’s horrid, amoral, evil mind, it finally clicks. His eyes narrow, beginning to glow red, and he’s finally fucking got that you hate him.

“Fine.” He spits your name, rising off the ground and sneering down at you. “Have it your way, you ungrateful bitch.”

You don’t care for banter, or taunting. You just want to finish this. So when he lasers through your chest you bite down on your tongue, but both heal over in a second—skin and muscle and organs reforming so fast you don’t even stutter a breath—and your face curls into a smirk. He can’t hurt you.

And then you’re moving.

Homelander is strong than you. Physically. In terms of brute force, Homelander has the upper hand.

But you’re burning the fucking world, and it’s singing for you. The fire inside you is a hurricane, it’s volcanic, it’s world ending and city leveling, and it’s all fucking yours. And it’s not razing the ground or ocean, because it’s all focused on Homelander. Your vision is lined with red, and you’re going to kill him.

You dodge almost every blow Homelander attempts to deal you, and your technique—thanks to Ben—is perfect. Every hit you land is measured and powerful, wrapped in fire that sizzles and twists and boils Homelander alive. He lasers through you twice more, and it’s just as ineffective as the first time. If anything you brush it off faster, because it kicks your adrenaline up and the pain barely jolt through you for more than a second.

You have the upper hand. Homelander’s falling back as your fire grows hotter, and he’s almost covering is hideous, still smoking scars. You explode in fire, hovering off the ground from the pure force, and it knocks him to the ground.

You yank his head up—golden hair singeing black under your fingers, skin bubbling and growing marred beneath your touch—and hold his slightly fogged gaze, letting every inch hatred and loathing and fucking wrath in your body push back on whatever fear or anger lives in him. Allow every bit of your blood into Homelander’s body like a poison, digging your nails into his skin.

You lower your face down to Homelander’s, and hope he feels your every word.

“I hate you.” You search every inch of his pathetic, weak fucking face, your words easy but still spoken through teeth. “I fucking despise you. You’re a monster, Homelander, and I am never going to do anything better in my life than making sure you never hurt anyone again.”

His eyes flash, glowing red and cutting through your body, but your grip only tightens. The smoke is choking his air-pipe, he’s burnt and mauled from your flame, and the roar that builds in his throat is primal.

Cold, leather hands grab your wrists, but his grip slightly slack as he gasps for breath, and he can’t push you away from him.

Homelander’s eyes on yours are frenzied, and suddenly he’s surging up. Not to his feet, but to you. His mouth moving to yours, and your hold on him loosens as you push away from him on an instinct of no. No, never again, cold and wrong and horrible and no.

There’s an echoing boom, and then he’s gone. Homelander blasts up into the air, and you’re left naked on the ground.

And Ben’s still asleep.

You sprint back to him–body still ablaze—falling to his side on the ground, grabbing his face in your hands. The weight and terror of what just happened is crashing into you, and Ben’s asleep. Homelander said Sage’s gas would last for three days, you can’t wait three fucking days, you need Ben now. You need to feel him in your chest, to tell him you love him and adore him, to hit him and shout at him about how fucking stupid it was to shoot up the V, how thankful you are he did because you’re still here, and everything is going to be okay because you’re still together.

His face is completely neutral. Not peaceful, but blank. And when you try to shout between your heads, for him to wake up, please wake up, Benjamin, I need you to wake up now, it’s like screaming into the sky.

You know you’re crying because of the sobs that shake your body, but the tears are evaporating into your flame. You’re weakly slapping Ben’s face, trying to get his eyes to just flutter, but it’s pointless.

Hitting him is pointless. You can try one more thing.

You drop your brow to his—you’d worry about his skin burning, but it might wake him up, and you aren’t actually seeing any blisters form where you touch him—and pray to a God you don’t believe in that it can be this easy. That, as you start to grow lightheaded and the world fades in and out, it’s because it’s working and not because you’re hyperventilating and screaming choked sounds of Ben’s name.

Then you feel strong, steady arms wrap around your body, and you collapse against him with strangled, pathetic noise.

He grunts your name in your head, and your fingers tangle in his hair. You’re okay.

I’m, you nod, even as you try and pull Ben closer, try to climb into his body so you can break in the safest place in the world. I’m okay.

Sunshine-

I’m okay, really, I’m just tired. I just, Ben pulls you fully onto his lap, and you wrap your legs over his torso with another sob. I love you, please don’t do that again-

Ben doesn’t push back about how it wasn’t at all in his control, or how you’ve pulled a lot of similar stunts that might have left him as broken as you feel. He just squeezes you, moving your head to rest in his neck, and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

I won’t. And I love you too.

You nod, and there’s more to deal with, but you can’t make yourself move. You have to find the team and regroup, to figure out what to do with Mallory’s body, and work out Ben’s exact new powers, but you’re so tired, and those will still be issues in ten minutes. You have one last gamble to take—Homelander won’t face you head on, and you can’t risk Ryan like that ever again—and Sage’s next move to worry about, but right now you’ll just stay here. Sobbing into Ben’s body, letting him hum an off-key tune that’s meant to be Rainbow Connection until you’re only letting out shaky breaths, only feeling his warmth. He smells like pine and salt and gunpowder and something potent that’s mostly just Ben, and it’s invading your sense and bringing you down.

There will be more to do.

But you’re just going to stay here, with Ben, for a while.

End Note: Babe wake up, new Soldier Boy powers just dropped.

Thank you for reading!! If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

If you want to be tagged, just ask!

Taglist

@lordofthunderthr @kritara @sukunassfinger, @justiceforquentin @acciditties

@c1gs-coffee @manicjk @artemys-ackles, @a-cup-of-nightshade, @bitchykittenconnoisseur

@fghj18 @n-o-p-e-never @deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist @marisha-3 @stvrniolo

@deansbbyx @s0urw00lf @ciuguapa @ilyaasansaif @whimsicalcherry

@sadpods @ahoytothestorm @silverwingxox @criminalyetminimal @solsborg

@generalmoonpolice @ifyouwerethemoon @leavli @imsiriuslyreal

[deffonotjae]

you're the sturniolos little sister. (nick, matt, and chris) uve always been rly close to your brothers, so their friends, are basically ur friends. especially since u guys are only two years apart. one friend in particular tho..u had this different kind of connection with. nate. youve known each other since middle school, and hes been your bsf since. you guys have liked each other basically since the moment u first met, both of u being too scared to confess to the other..

one day though..the tension was thick..not the usual thick. it was like u guys couldnt hold back any longer. u needed each other right then and there. all ur pent up emotions over the years finally got to u both, and uve been dating ever since. the thing is..u have to keep it a secret, since ur brothers are hella protective over u. u guys r also scared that ur relationship will complicate theirs with nate. so far, its been going well, and uve been together for about a month..something happens that seriously complicates this secret...and makes for a hilarious wedding story.

u and nate are sitting on the couch, listening to music, sharing airpods, scrolling on tiktok..u guys would send each other shitty, stupid memes and laugh ur asses off occasionally. a song w a rly bad intro comes on suddenly, and u look over at him and give him a knowing look, before u laugh.

"babyyy, baby, come on here me out- js wait for it." nate says, shoving u playfully, while laughing and admiring ur cute giggles. he forgot, nick, matt, and chris, were literally in the living room with you. they heard that.

how long can the js bsfs excuse go on for ?..

you didnt even realize he called you baby in the moment, instead, you leaned more into him and playfully took his hat, placing it on ur head and lookin in his eyes..staring actually.. "wait for it..right." you replied teasingly, as you smiled widely, teeth peaking out, nose scrunching slightly.

he watched you take his hat, laughing a bit as u placed it on your head, finding it adorable how his hat was a little big on you. he smiled as you played with it, and he just looked at you, studying every single feature on your face. as you smiled, showing your teeth and scrunching your nose..he just fell more in love w you. he couldn't help himself, as his eyes drifted down to your lips for a second. he looked back up at your eyes, blushing a bit and looking a bit worried..

he stared for a few moments longer, before glancing at your brothers..who were glaring at him hard. he immediately tore his eyes away from you..as he knew you guys needed to keep the relationship a secret..but god, did he wanna make out with you right then and there..

you blinked, your lips parting as soon as you watched his eyes go to your brothers. ur throat got dry, as you looked from them to nate..it just clicking in your pretty little mind, now overthinking every small move you made. your gaze shifted over to your brothers, specifically..matt..as you smiled lightly, your eyes just a tad bit wide- trying to seem as un-awkward as possible.

your relationship with matt, was an interesting one- complicated, yet not at all..love, hate, almost..but all love, made out as hate. matt was the most protective over you, when it came to boys anyway, as he had dealt with far too many assholes, in not only his circle, but yours..he knew nate was the exact opposite, and if anything, him being with you would be a relief, but he wouldnt admit that, not at this moment at least..

you sigh dramatically, leaning back, and sinking into the couch, just barely brushing your thigh against nates..like a secret or something. telling him to just go along with this, as your eyes meet matts, then nicks, then chris', then matts again..as yours rolled, and you threw your head back. "actin like we're making out on the couch or something.."

matt was giving nate a poker face, look, yet he had quite a clue what was going through his mind. matt always knew when something felt different, and right now..it felt way different. he had a feeling something was going on, but he didn’t have any proof..he couldn’t prove it. but he could definitely still be a dick about it. he narrowed his eyes at the two of you, not believing a thing. "bet you would if you could though."

you, scoffed as you looked up at him then nate..then ur other brothers. "always on my dick." you muttered, annoyed, as you let out a groan.

nate had to contain his smirk, as he looked over at you, shaking his head slightly, trying not to laugh. it was funny seeing you act all hot and bothered..he nodded at u, before glancing at the others, and nodding at them too. "always on ur dick, baby.." he said teasingly as he mockingly pouted with u, and placed a hand behind your head..stroking ur hairs softly.

you gasped, as you looked over at nate, your lips parted, and your brows furrowed, as you flicked his forehead..hearing the nickname slip up again, even louder. laughs fell from your lips the second you did so, your eyes squeezing shut as you buried your face in his shoulder.

he couldn’t help but laugh as well, the sound mixing with yours. it was cute how u tried to act all annoyed to cover things up. he loved it when your nose scrunched up and your brows furrowed together..the laughs that left your lips, and the way you buried your face into him. he glanced over at your brothers, seeing them looking at the two of you..in confusion. he swallowed dryly, his hand caressing the side of your arm.

your head shifted against his shoulder, looking up at him, through fluttered lashes, and pouted lips, but not purposely pouted this time..his hat still resting on your head, almost goin over your soft, gorgeous, eyes..as you smiled all giddy looking in his, soft, longing, eyes.

he looked down at your expression, and his breath hitched in his throat, and seeing you in his hat made him feel unbelievably happy for some reason.

matt clenched his jaw harder, seeing your guys’ stupid giggling, and the sweet, tender, look in both ur eyes. he could tell that something was going on. he was about to comment on it, when nick spoke up suddenly..

"...are you two...?"

you looked at nick, then your other brothers, taking in their looks of dumbfounded, realization..and you couldn't help but laugh, genuinely laugh..like it was fucking hilarious. you gazed over at nate, sayin in between gasps.. "us..? oh..my..god." you wiped your eyes, and took a breath, leaning back on the couch, your head almost subconsciously leaning against nates arm.

nate couldnt help but laugh with you, but all he could think of, was how hard his heart was beating. "oh- us together..?"

matt narrowed his eyes at the two of you, feeling more irritated and confused by the second. he clenched his jaw harder, he was pissed off, he uncrossed his arms, and leaned back.

"..if the two of you were together, i hope you know how pissed..we’d be.." matt announced blunty, with narrowed eyes, and a cocked eyebrow..as his eyes traced over the two of you.

you cocked a brow as well, hearing his little sentiment..your head tilting, as you smiled.."well thats a shame..cus we're totally like- in loveee.." you replied, mocking sarcasm..

nate tried to hold back a smirk, as he heard you say, "in loveee.." even in that sarcastic tone of yours. he couldnt help but scoff..knowing you really were in love, but since you started this game, he might as well play along. "awhh..yeah- so in love.."

nick and chris shared a groan of a look, as they watched your guys’ little act go on. they couldn’t help but feel like you guys were lying through your teeth..and for some reason, they could sense it, and they just desperately wanted to hear the truth..so they could either confirm their suspicions, or feel relieved.

"enough of the bullshit, yeah..? ..just tell us the truth- are you guys together..?" matt grilled again, some how even more annoyingly and serious than before.

You groan, dramatically, as you lay down on the couch, using nates thigh as a headrest. You lick your lips..acting nonchalant always confused the fuck out of them, and fuckin w your brothers, was the funnest thing on planet earth. "why would we be together..? like- ever..?" You asked, and then as soon as you said it, burst with laughter again, this time completely genuine..your thoughts being how insane this whole secret relationship thing was, how funny their reactions to this was, and how only you and nate knew what was rly goin on.

nate couldn’t hold back his grin as u layed down on his thighs. he desperately wanted to play with ur hair, hold your hand, or just touch you in any way while u were down there. he watched as your giggles came out again, and he laughed with you once again, in agreement and knowing that you weren’t gonna crack under their brothers’ pressure

"yeah baby..like- ever.." he replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice, as he kept looking at your brothers, enjoying their frustrated faces

You laughed even harder as he called you baby, and took his hat off your head, looking up in his eyes, and placed his hat on his head.. "ur good at this game." You said jokingly, as you continued to laugh..

nate couldn’t stop himself from laughing as well. u were making this so much fun. he looked down at you, and smiled widely when u put his hat back on his head, secretly loving the feeling of his hat on u..

chris had a half amused, half irritated look on his face. he was starting to grow a bit amused with watching this little act, but he was also very annoyed that the two of you kept lying. no matter how ridiculous their responses were..he suddenly spoke up, his voice quieter and calmer than matt’s

"seriously, just be honest..are you two together or what ??"

You burst out into even more laugher, almost rolling off the couch and onto the floor, from your infamously boneless laugh..

nate couldnt stop laughing along with you, as you burst into a new fit of laughs, almost rolling off the couch. he had to grab your shoulder gently to keep you on the couch, and he just continued smiling at how well you and him were playing this act. he couldn’t even answer your brothers question, as he was too busy holding back a full smirk, finding the whole situation hilarious..

ur brothers couldn’t hold back a few chuckles, feeling ur guys’ laughs was contagious. they still wanted to know the truth though, and they were just getting more and more frustrated as the time went on..matt spoke up suddenly, his voice getting louder

"hey- can you two please just be serious for a second ?! "

nate could tell that they were growing impatient. he looked at matt, his hand still holding your shoulder, and he saw the irritation on his face. he knew your brothers knew something was up by now, and he figured he should at least be a little bit serious, in answer to matt’s question..but still not give in..

You hum and rub your eyes, gaps in between ur laughs as u thought of this whole thing..u bring a hand up to the one that nate had on your shoulder, js fuckin with them even more..

nate looked down at you, watching as u rubbed the laughter-induced tears from your eyes. he smiled widely, and noticed you place your hand on top of his. his heart skipped a beat for a moment, and it took everything in him to not just burst out in grins and kisses you right there. he looked up at the others, seeing their faces, and he took a deep breath, trying to compose himself as he spoke

"listen..we already told you guys..we’re not together.."

chris was still amused by all of this, but still very skeptical. he just couldn’t shake the feeling that you and nates act was just that..an act..he suddenly spoke up again, in his cool, calm voice

"well, then why do you guys keep touching each other and talking with such- loving tones..?"

You burst out into laughs again, burying your face in nates lower stomach..muffled laughs filling the room..as your legs kicked a little from how fun this all was. You pull back softly before muttering, "mm, lovinggg tones." Just to start giggling again into his shirt.

nate couldn’t help but laugh as well, as u buried your face into his lower stomach, practically killing him. he loved that you were laughing so hard.

°°°

You glanced over at matt, smiling cockily.."what matty..? never seen two friends js laughin and havin fun..? "

[meanbossart]

Hi!! I don't know if this has been asked before, but I was curious about the DU Drow's relationship with our dear little wretch Sceleritas Fel! What's their dynamic like? Btw love love love your Drow. You made him so freaky and fun, I should not but by god I want to chew on that man

THANK YOU SO MUCH! Oh boy, I love Sceleritas Fel a lot and I feel like they had a pretty in depth relationship.

The way I wrote DU drow's backstory involves him being almost solely in Sceleritas company for a couple of years. I really took the line "You always needed a lot of assistance" that you get from him to heart - Sceleritas didn't just serve idly, he was a grim cheerleader and sponsor who, for whatever reason (I guess just inherit nature - this is his whole life's purpose after all) would have always been eager to see DU drow succeed. After He killed his matron and Sceleritas finally appeared, he became a near-constant companion in leading him out of the Underdark and through the surface, save for seldom times where he was just gone for a little while, but never for longer than a couple of days.

As a pre-adolescent and through young adulthood (And eventual bhaal...hood) I picture their relationship evolving pretty drastically. child/pre-teen DU drow was a badly socialized feral child with very little grasp on reality, I think he assumed Sceleritas was some sort of figment of his imagination for a very long time - but followed his instructions nonetheless as he had no other direction in life. He was near-mute and seemingly lacking cognitive capabilities/self preservation instincts, so when Sceleritas said go, he'd go. When the butler would point at something he could kill and eat, he would try (and at the start, usually fail) when Sceleritas told him to seek shelter from the elements or danger, he would do it. When he came into contact with people who seemed to have his best interest in mind (concerned travelers and the odd kindly city person whenever he happened to be passing through a town) and Sceleritas told him not to trust them, to take whatever advantage he could from the situation and, often, kill them, he'd do just that. It was almost as if Sceleritas was the master and he was the thrall.

As he grew a little older (15 and on) and his skills in survival and cunning had been honed, as well as him growing a little more talkative, the dynamic would begin to flip; not only that, but DU drow would slowly grow more and more frustrated and skeptical of Sceleritas promises that he was leading him to his supposed destiny, and would try to press him for what that even entailed - Sceleritas would never fold or tell him anything (he didn't want to ruin the suprise!) and instead just reassured DU drow that if he could just outlast his circumstances for a little longer, that he would eventually be greatly rewarded - that he just needed to prove himself first.

This is also around the time where DU Drow first killed him in what was probably a fit of anger and frustration; a decision he immediately regretted and panicked about, since he was so reliant on his guidance and Sceleritas was essentially the only reason he had to keep on living - but when the butler just popped back up after a few days later (he figured it would be good to scare him a little bit!) and DU drow realized he was immortal, it became a habit to take his frustrations out on him.

After a while of finally joining the temple and learning of his status as Bhaal's progeny, DU Drow would completely grow into the role of Sceleritas superior and master. He was tyrannous and demeaning and Sceleritas loved it, of course. He was still very attached to his assistance, but now it mostly applied to trivial things and everyday necessities; fetching and sending off mail, arranging his meals and meetings, keeping track of his schedule, cleaning and organizing his space, every so often playing little pranks on the other bhaalists and Orin, and, of course, aiding with DU drow's constant bouts of violence and cruelty, as well as every so often listening as he vented his frustrations at him. He took Sceleritas everywhere - DU drow most definitely didn't need him anymore, he simply wanted him around (to the despair of most people).

Sceleritas would also... Gently criticize him for some of his choices, specially DU drow's masochistic penchant and his obsession with Orin - which was usually met with a swift demise at DU drow's hands for daring to question him. Simultaneously, he would enable the same habits by complying with DU drow's orders of arranging for his wounds to be cared for or keeping close track of Orin's schedule, conversations and habits for him when requested.

If we're talking main campaign, tadpoled DU drow was understandably surprised by the visits he received from this tiny dapper gremlin LOL but he very quickly fell into his flattery like second-nature. It was only around Act 2 where he began to turn on Sceleritas for trying to order him around (telling him he should kill Isobel) and obviously for setting him up to kill Astarion, seeing the butler as an enemy and traitor from that point forward even though he would remain inexplicably fond of the little guy throughout.

[paperbackpanic]

Ben and jeff with a strong fel s/o that puts them in their place when they start being assholes. Like they be saying shit and she just gives them one glare and they start behaving 😭

Ben and Jeff with a s/o that puts them in their place

A/n: omg this!!!!! I love this. These two really need someone to put them in their place. Anyhow I hope you enjoy!

Ben

💪 let's make one thing clear first, this child is only an ass because of Jeff and Roblox, the assholeness will turn down significantly if you put these two things away from him

💪 He didn't really mind you when you first came to the mansion, he started to find you annoying when you didn't fell/react to his pranks, so he made a promise to himself to just annoy you until you fell and react to one of his pranks

💪 His body don't really age bc of the whole being dead thing (🪲🧃!) he has the endurance and force of a 14y.o, so is pretty easy for you to beat him up and you learned this very quickly, wich lead to a LOT of visits to EJ by his side

💪 When you started to get bored of beating him up to make him stop you begun to "kidnap" his games and electronics, you would put it in a small island in the middle of a lake and won't return it until he apologizes/fix what he's done

💪 After a long time he simply gave up lmao, after all you had done it didn't take much to make him listen to you, wich is funny because this boy sometimes will talk back to Slenderman but never to you

💪 You feel in love first, like it or not you where impressed by his dedication to annoy you, but you only realized that when he stopped. Then there was that whole drama of "should I date him or not" "but he's annoying, but I love him" "he has the body of a 12y.o is this really right?" Until he not so suprisingly asked you to be his s/o.

💪 You accepted, and then again he returned the annoyance, he toned down a bit but he wasn't really going to stop

💪 You only call him by his name when you're pissed so he learned to beware and start to run when you spill out the "B.."

Jeff

💪 he didn't like you in the beginning. He just didn't kill you because slender prohibited him. You were not fun to him. You didn't react to his insults nor pranks to him you were very boring.

💪 the more he atempted to annoy you the more fond of you he became and in the other hand you each time lost your patience a little more

💪 You absolutely hate when Jeff is talking shit and being an asshole so you started to educate the pup

💪 then Jeff finally realized that he should never make you lose your temper again and that he was in love

💪 Punishment comes and punishment go, and now he stops just because you looked at him in a semi annoyed face or just said "Jeffery..."

💪 Somehow, he convinced you to go on a date with him, and then another and another. Until he finally assumed that you're his S/o

💪 He has a sense of fear like a child who knows they were caught doing something wrong and KNOW that the punishment will be super harsh when you say his full first name. That fear skyrockets if you add the surname in it. Basically: pet names/Jeff (calm/sweet) = good, Jeff (angry/annoyed)= not so good, Jeffery= omg this is bad, Jeffery Woods = I'm going to die

💪 At the end of the day you love him and he loves you so it's all fine, you both are just a little bdsmy <3

[cyborg-franky]

Heyy Franky! I hope you're doing okay. It's been a while since I've been on here and I just saw your post about the event and thought maybe I could ask to participate?

If you feel like it could I pretty please get a wedding thingy?

Character: Ace <3

Dress/Outfit [your kinda vibe, dress or suit or themed]: dress but maybe more like a casual sundress type of thing? Or one of those where the skirt can be pulled off to make it a more casual dress?

Pick two colours: blue and orange

Big or small wedding: biiig

Season: [fall wedding? Summer?] I think late summer would be cute

Food and drink?: a whole ass banquet with bottomless drinks feels right for the fire boy 🔥

If this doesn't strike your creative mind no worries I just thought I'd try my luck. Love the idea!<3 mwah

I am back at them! Please enjoy <3

There was no way in hell you would have gotten away with a small wedding when the entire Whitebeard pirates were involved.

Weeks before the wedding Thatch held you and Ace captive to make your choices and work out a feast. Ace just wanted lots of meat and spicy things.

It would be one hell of a party and a huge celebration!

You’d both chosen late summer to hold the wedding. The weather still held that summery warmth, but the evening had that light snap of impending autumn lurking around the corner—something that would make a bonfire on the beach feel just right.

Everyone wore casual clothes, looking nice in comfortable fits that matched the colour scheme. You had to include orange because there was no way Ace would ever set down his well-loved hat, and you didn’t think you could take him seriously if he was in a full-on suit with the bright orange hat standing out like a sore thumb.

An archway of flowers was created, and candles lit a path down to the sea.

The sun was starting to set and the world was cast in a beautiful warm glow as you exchanged vows and he slipped the ring on your finger.

Whitebeard was sobbing and beaming with pride as he watched you both.

 Everyone clapped and cheered.

Now the party started.

Rows and rows of tables set out on the beach under canopies incase the evening weather decided to treat you all to a summer storm.

So much food was laid out, and everything smelt amazing.

You could hear Ace’s stomach growl as he gently pulled you toward the head of the table where the best food was set.

There were various types of toasts from the other commanders. Thatch and Marco trying to embarrass you both [mostly Ace] while others were proud of you. Whitebeard did the last toast, and you and Ace were both reduced to tears as the man you called father tried to stop hismelf from crying, again.

The party lasted long into the night, even the next day as the crew drank and ate and danced.

You cuddled up to Ace next to the fire and fel yourself falling asleep in his arms.

“I love you,” he whispered against your hair and sighed, happy. “I love you too, firefly.” You smiled when he held you tighter. 

THIS EVENT IS CLOSED

[lemonmaggot]

Ice Cream at 3 A.M.

Summary: Lloyd has a nightmare about his dad and Kai is the only one awake to comfort him. (Takes place in season 1, about one or two weeks after Lloyd finds out he's the green ninja)

AO3 link:

Fic below the cut (2,310 words)

The fire ninja stirred in his bed with a groan. He had kicked his blanket off the end of his bed. With his already naturally high body temperature, he tended to overheat as he slept. It was routine at this point. He’d fall asleep with his blanket tightly wrapped around him, and then in the morning, he would pick it up off the floor. Yet now he felt chilled by the icy air below him coming off Zane. Kai groaned as he blindly felt for the ladder's rungs in the dark of the night. Kai slipped and narrowly caught himself before he crashed to the floor. The three other boys wouldn’t forgive him if he woke them up this early. It was already hard enough to learn how to share a room among four people, they didn’t need to add sleep deprivation to their list of issues.

Kai picked his blanket off the ground and threw it up onto his bed. He got one foot on the ladder before pausing to yawn. He cringed as he felt the air rush against his dry mouth. Now it was all he could focus on. Kai squinted his eyes, looking for his glass of water. He felt around before his hand came into contact with the cold glass. A cold, empty glass. Kai grumbled, “Stupid Jay… Can’t he get his own cup?” Another item on the list of issues that would never be resolved.

Kai took the empty glass with him out of the room he shared with his teammates. The fire ninja took note as he saw Lloyd’s door cracked open. He glanced in and felt his heart skip as he saw the faint outline of an empty bed. Had Pythor gotten on board and kidnapped Lloyd again? Or was this another villain’s evil plot? Where was that little brat now?

As the sound of wood scraping against wood met Kai’s ears, he sighed in relief. He knew that sound by now. Kai continued his journey to the kitchen, where he found Lloyd dragging a wooden stool to the cabinets.

“Hey kid,” Kai whispered, hoping not to startle the young boy, yet ultimately failed. Lloyd cried out and stumbled off the stool, landing on his face with a soft ‘ouch’. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Kai chuckled. He set his glass on the table and walked over to Lloyd to help him up. “Maybe I should unlearn how to sneak around so I don’t do that again,” Kai joked, but the smile fell from his face as Lloyd lifted his face from the floor.

Lloyd’s face was red and he had tears streaming down his cheeks. Lloyd already didn’t find Kai funny, but his jokes usually weren’t this bad.

“Whoa! Hey, what’s wrong?” Kai murmured, kneeling beside Lloyd, all of his older-brother instincts kicking in. “What are you crying for?”

“I had a nightmare,” Lloyd sobbed, sniffling and rubbing his nose against the sleeves of his shirt.

Kai fought the urge to gag and cringe at the volume of snot leaking out of Lloyd’s nose. He’d have to help the kid with laundry in the morning. “Do you want to talk about it?” Kai asked, his voice softer and higher than usual, something he had figured over the years helped soothe children. “You seem pretty upset by it.”

“It was my dad,” Lloyd hiccuped. “He- He-” The young ninja struggled to get the words out between sobs. Kai frowned further and wrapped his arms around the kid, bringing him into a hug. At first, Lloyd tensed, but soon he relaxed into Kai’s chest. “He was hurting me, and he threw me into a wall,” Lloyd sniffled, “and he… he told me he didn’t have a son…” Lloyd’s hand gripped the back of Kai’s pajama shirt tightly. “He… hated me…”

“Oh Lloyd…” Kai murmured, rubbing soothing circles into the kid’s back. “That could never happen. Your dad is the lord of evil and darkness, but he still loves you. That will never change. He is so proud of you… You’re the most important thing in the world to him.”

“But… it felt so real!”

“I know buddy… But you’re safe, your dad will never hurt you, and he will always love you,” Kai assured. Kai pulled back, looking down at Lloyd’s still snotty face. “How about we get your mind off this, yeah?” Kai offered a soft, reassuring smile. “Maybe some… ice-cream?”

Lloyd perked up at the mention of sweets. “Really?”

“Yeah, you’ve just gotta promise to brush your teeth again after and not tell anyone else, okay?” Kai asked, holding out his pinky to Lloyd. “They’d get jealous if they knew we were getting ice cream without them.”

Lloyd frowned at the idea of brushing his teeth again. It was already a fight to get him to do so before bed, he didn’t want to brush his teeth three times in a singular day. However, getting ice cream just might be worth it, especially if it was just him and Kai. Candy always tasted sweeter when he didn’t have to share. Lloyd wrapped his pinkie around Kai’s outstretched finger and shook it once. “Deal. My lips are sealed!”

Kai grinned and stood up. “Good, 'cause I also don’t want the others to know I have ice cream. It’s so hard to hide things from them in this house- or, well… ship.” Kai rested Lloyd on his hip as he made his way to the fridge. Kai opened the upper freezer door and rummaged inside. Reaching the very back, where ice had begun to take over the forgotten food, there was a bit of ice chipped out, hiding a pint of strawberry ice cream in the frozen walls. Words were scribbled all over the pint of ice cream, consisting of death threats to anyone who ate Kai’s ice cream without permission. Permission that would never be granted. Unless, of course, you were Nya as she got sibling privileges. Now Lloyd was added to that very short list.

Kai grabbed two bowls from the cupboard and set them on the counter. He struggled with opening his pint of ice cream one-handed, but he was determined not to set Lloyd down. Plus this was not the first time he’d had to learn how to do things with one hand. Kai was reminded of when Nya was a toddler. After their parents had abandoned them out of the blue. She would cry all night long, asking for their mother. Kai would try his best to soothe her and eventually found it easier to hold her until she calmed down. The adults in their village would often help during the day, ensuring the two kids were still alive and eating. But at night or when everyone was busy, Kai was solely responsible for Nya.

Kai promised to always protect and take care of his little sister. Now with his shirt soaked with tears and Lloyd gripping onto him so tight, as if he loosened his grip by a fraction that Kai would disappear, how could Kai not do the same for the young Garmadon?

Kai managed to scoop a satisfactory amount into both of the bowls and put his ice cream back into its hiding spot. He struggled to hold two bowls one-handed while also trying to avoid any of the deserts or their spoons from dropping. No one said it was easy to be a single mother when you were both a teenager and male.

Kai carried Lloyd out of the kitchen and into the open air of the night. He got halfway down the stairs leading to the main deck before easing himself down to sit. The fire ninja finally set Lloyd down beside him, but the young one did not let up his grasp on Kai’s shirt.

Lloyd only let go when Kai held out a bowl to him, this one having slightly less ice cream than the other. He didn’t want Lloyd to eat too much sugar and give himself another thing to be hurt about. Lloyd took the desert but kept pressed close to Kai.

For once in his life, Lloyd was slow to eat the sweet treat. He twirled the spoon, mixing the ice cream in circles. “Kai… do you really think my dad won’t ever hurt me?” Lloyd asked softly, looking up at the other.

“He would never,” Kai promised, knowing it to be a lie. Lloyd was destined to fight Garmadon. It would be impossible for Lloyd to not even get a small scuff in the final battle. But even an airhead like Kai knew that Lloyd did not need the truth right now. “But if he ever does, I’ll be there with you. I’ll protect you no matter what.”

Lloyd turned back to the bowl and took his first bite of ice cream. He thought something over before looking back up at Kai. “Like a dad?”

“Huh?”

“Yknow… Dads are usually the ones who are always there and protecting their kids,” Lloyd explained.

“I…” Kai hesitated. Being a dad was too much responsibility for him. Just because Kai was eighteen did not mean he was ready for adult duties. “I don’t know how to be a dad…” Kai began, seeing Lloyd’s face drop further. “But! I do know how to be a big brother. You see how Nya turned out, you could be just as cool and smart as she is with me looking out for you.”

A small smile crept onto Lloyd’s face. “Yeah! One day I’ll be so much cooler and better at fighting than you are! Just like Nya!”

Normally Kai’s ego would be hurt, but for now, he was just relieved that Lloyd was cheering up. The fire ninja chuckled and nodded his head. “You sure will, and I’ll get bragging rights to everyone that I have the coolest little brother in the world,” Kai grinned, ruffling his hand through Lloyd’s already messy hair.

Lloyd giggled and pushed Kai’s hand away playfully. Kai relented his teasing, letting Lloyd eat the rest of his ice cream. Now he ate much quicker than before, his usual pace whenever he got his grubby little hands on sugar. Kai smiled, relieved at how the sadness left Lloyd’s face.

Kai leaned back against the steps and sighed happily. He slowly made his way through his bowl. He wasn’t all that interested in eating something so sweet this late at night, but he wasn’t just going to let Lloyd eat alone. So when Lloyd finished his entire bowl and started eyeing Kai’s food too, the fire ninja rolled his eyes as he handed the child the rest of his ice cream.

“Thank you, Kai!” Lloyd cheered, eating the small remainder.

Kai looked up to the stars in the night sky. He shut his eyes momentarily as he relaxed. He heard the clanging of bowls and then felt Lloyd shuffle closer to him, leaning into his side.

“Can we stay here for a little bit longer?” Lloyd asked softly. “I don’t want to go back to bed just yet…”

“Of course, buddy,” Kai agreed, wrapping his arm around Lloyd. He rubbed soothing circles into Lloyd’s back. Kai opened his eyes, glancing down at the child. Lloyd had buried his face into Kai’s side. His eyes were closed and Kai knew he should make sure he didn’t fall back asleep before brushing his teeth. However, the moment was too nice to end. He would get Lloyd up and back to his bed soon. He swore.

Yet before he knew it, Kai’d eyes were drooping shut.

-

“Hey, sleepy-heads!” Kai groaned as he felt a light kick to his shoulder.  “You can’t sleep forever!”

 “Your voice is so annoying, Jay,” Kai grunted. Kai shifted, pulling the blanket on top of him closer. His eyes peeked open, actually taking note of the blanket. Where had it come from? Kai couldn’t remember. 

“Do you really hate sharing a room with us so much that you had to sleep outside?” Cole teased as he walked past the half-asleep duo.

“After stealing Master Wu’s blanket as well,” Zane added, passing by them as well to the main deck.

Kai sat up, yelping in pain from the kinks in his back from sleeping with the stairs digging into his back. Lloyd whined as his pillow moved away from him, forcing him to wake up. Kai lifted the blanket, analyzing it to see if Zane’s words were true. Kai furrowed his eyebrow and looked up, searching among his teammates. Kai’s eyes met with Wu, who wore a knowing look.

“It’s not my fault that Jay snores too loud,” Kai shot back. That wasn’t the real reason, but he knew at Lloyd’s age he was embarrassed by having nightmares. So it would be their little secret.

“Hey! It’s not that bad!” Jay cried, looking to Cole and Zane to back him up. However, the two refused to meet his gaze, looking in the opposite direction of their teammate. “Oh come on! I’m working on it! I’m sorry I can’t control my body while I'm asleep!”

Kai laughed as Jay was distracted by ranting about how he was doing so much, and the rest of them were also annoying in their sleep. How Zane made the room too cold, Kai made it too hot, and Cole was always moving around which made the bed creak and shake. Kai stood up and held out his hand to Lloyd, helping the child to his feet as well. “C’mon, let's go get ready while Jay is distracting everyone.”

-

“Are you really going to keep your promise?” Lloyd asked once the two were inside, preparing to brush their teeth. “From last night?”

“Of course I am,” Kai promised once more, ruffling Lloyd’s hair. “I’ll be the best big brother you could ever dream of.”

[sashiavi]

im salivating for more of your kaveh x puppy girl!reader x alhaitham. puppy girl in heat maybe?? and her sweet boys help her throughout her whole heat cus they love her so much <33 im begging on my knees pleASE

✿𝙰𝚕𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚖 𝚡 𝙺𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚑 𝚡 𝙿𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚢𝙶𝚒𝚛𝚕!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛✿

𝙸 𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙸𝚜 𝚃𝚘 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐! 𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙼𝚎𝚊𝚕 ;>

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙰𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗! 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙺𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝙼𝚢 𝙸𝚗𝚋𝚘𝚡 𝙽𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚗 𝙵𝚞𝚕𝚕 ♡

𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙸𝚜 𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚃𝚘 𝙱𝚎 👁👁

𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸 - 𝙸 𝙳𝚘 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚃𝚘 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙼𝚎 𝙾𝚛 𝙼𝚢 𝙿𝚊𝚐𝚎 - 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐.

•·················🍑·················•🍑•·················🍑·················•

♡𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗♡

Alhaitham and Kaveh Help Their Puppy Girl Through Her Heat ♡

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙰𝚕𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚖 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝙺𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚑

𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙸𝚗𝚏𝚘: | 𝙿𝚄𝙿𝙿𝚈𝙶𝙸𝚁𝙻!𝙷𝚈𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙳! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 | 𝚂𝚑𝚎/𝙷𝚎𝚛 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜 | 𝙰𝙵𝙰𝙱 |

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 3680

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: | 18+ | 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝 | 𝙷𝚢𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚍 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 | 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜 - 𝙰𝙱𝙾 𝙸𝚏 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚂𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚝 - 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍 | 𝙱𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 | 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 | 𝙿𝚘𝚕𝚢 | 𝙳𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 | 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚎 𝙿𝚕𝚘𝚝 | 𝙳𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝙿𝙸𝚅 | 𝙿𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝙷𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 | 𝙳𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚃𝚊𝚕𝚔 | 𝙿𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎 | 𝙳𝚘𝚖/𝚂𝚞𝚋 | 𝙲𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢, 𝙲𝚞𝚗𝚝 & 𝙿𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚢 𝚄𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 |

The life of a puppy hybrid was high maintenance.

The grooming of ears and tails, said appendages twitching and wagging, putting one's every emotion on display for everybody to read. Silly little instincts to chase a squirrel or fetch a ball from some unsuspecting children's game. Becoming overly excited around snacks and foods, pestering Kaveh for just one little taste of whatever he was cooking. Getting so easily distracted from important projects assigned to her by the Akademiya, subsequently having Alhaitham breathing down her back to ensure she was on track.

Neither of the boys minded though, Alhaitham welcomed her into his home with open arms. Kaveh absolutely doted on her any way he could, assisting in grooming her pretty ears and ensuring her tail was soft and shiny, genuinely pampering her with more care than he gave himself. (Which was already an endless list of methods and products taking up his side of the bathroom)

Alhaitham was a little more subtle, wordlessly leaving her favourite treats around and ensuring that she had her own keys on her. He gave her quiet time when she needed and sometimes indulged in her zoomies, gently tossing a ball or cushion back and forth in a little game of catch while he flicked through his novel.

Still, the life of a puppy girl was high maintenance. Especially the secondary genders associated with many hybrid folk. Although not often acknowledged socially within society, many poor little puppygirls experienced the most horrible, terrible, achey, ouchy heats.

Everything was so, so hot. The air was thick and cloudy, humid with sweat and hurried breaths, heaving from the poor puppy girl's chest. Hot slick ran from her achey puppy cunt down her thighs, messing up all the comfy blankies she spread out. She laid in a messy nest of duvets, pillows and clothes owned by her roommates. Kaveh would surely squawk at the lack of structural integrity she put into her creation. She buries her nose into a decadent red throw blanket, carefully hand woven and incredibly expensive, she inhales the soft floral scent of her forementioned blonde roommate. Her puppy cunt clenches and drools down her thighs. She whimpers into the fabric, her cunny aching, her head foggy, throbbing with a pressing headache.

The poor little puppy girl grinds forward, trying to catch her cunny on something, anything to soothe the ache. She cries out, frustrated with how hot and humid the room felt, her naked skin sticking to the fabric below, her blood felt ice cold and the sensation difference made her head spin. She writhes around, her fingers pulling the threads of the blanket, her nose still buried into the fabric. She gropes around her nest, yearning for another familiar comfort. Her hand rests upon a pillow, silky and cool to the touch, she brings it to her chest, wrapping her arms around the plush material and hugging it to her warm body. It smelt woodsy, akin to the mahogany furniture found within the Akademiya library, certainly Alhaitham's pillow she managed to snatch before her heat truly set in.

She cradles the pillow tight, breathing in the exotic concoction of her roommate's scents. Her ears twitched deliciously, their scents driving a shiver down her back, her chest feeling fuzzy and heavy. For whatever mental clarity she gained from the sweet smell, the ache in her cunny grew worse. She howls out, whimpering softly into Kaveh's blanket, rubbing her face red and raw against the woven fabric. She hugs the pillow firmer, wrapping her thighs around the plush material, the satin cover cool on her skin. The silky material brushes over her bare clit and she gasps through her teeth, a whine crackles out of her throat.

She moves and straddles Alhaitham's pillow hastily, hands fondling the cover, her nails digging into the plush material. Her fluffy puppy tail wags, her brain fogged and her cunny aching. She couldn't care less about how naughty this was, how upset Alhaitham could be if she made a mess all over his belongings. Her skin was burning, her head aching and her puppy cunt needed something, anything to take away her ouchy heat. Her brain screamed at her, she needed them, she needed Kaveh and Alhaitham, needed them to breed her full of puppies. Her clit throbbed, the scent of Alhaitham's pillow present in her brain, this was the next best thing to the man himself.

Her pretty clit drags over the silky smooth fabric of Alhaitham's pillow, her cunny gushes, and clenches around nothing. She whines pathetically, breath caught in her throat, fluffy ears pinned to her head. She bites into the plush material as she humps her puppy cunt into the pillow, pretty ass up in the air as she chews and drools into the fabric. High pitched whimpers and cries choke through the material in her mouth, in time with every little pathetic hump against the pillow. Her slick messes the cushion below her, a clear wet spot beneath her drooling puppy cunt seeps into the fabric and across her thighs. Kaveh's decadent blanket, though nearly forgotten, tangles around her fingers, threads digging into her skin, she clutches it once again like a lifeline.

The poor puppy girl drowns in her heat, delirious and hot, brain fogged, the only thing on her mind being Alhaitham and Kaveh. Thinking about just how nice they would treat her, how sweetly Kaveh would cradle her and how good Alhaitham would plow her sweet puppy cunt. The poor puppy girl chokes out a sob, simply out of pure desperation, her mind betraying her and falling victim to her heat. She squirms against the pillow below, her pathetic humps growing sloppy and uncoordinated, barely squirming in place. She was so, so tired. Her cunny burned, hot, wet and sore, overstimulated even without the sweet release of an orgasm.

She couldn't help but keep trying, outwardly crying, sweet little puppy whimpers warble out of her throat. Any attempt at easing the achey heat in her tummy all by herself was futile, her every attempt only making the matter worse. It felt like the end of the world, everything burning hot as if it was on fire. The poor puppy girl couldn't stop, couldn't stop crying, couldn't stop her hips from squirming, couldn't stop her achey ouchy puppy heat. She had fallen far into her own mind, completely fogged and hysterical, distress finally implanting itself into her sweet little head. The poor puppy nearly misses the soft, sweet caress on her fluffy ears, accompanied by the overwhelming scent of mourning flowers. Or the firm, cool hand running down her back, gripping her hip, steadying her frantic body. A loud whine creeps out of her chest, vulnerable and yearning.

"Awh.. I know Baby, I know.. it's alright... We're here now Sweet Girl.." She hears, their tone kind and soft, grounding her into the present. She lifts her head, opening her eyes and nosing up at the man before her. Kaveh strokes his sweet puppy's ears, scritching and scratching her soft fur. He peppers kisses against her forehead, nosing against her skin, a pleased chirp ripples from her throat. Kaveh's touch is gentle, addicting, laced with candied tenderness so sweet she could cry. Carefully, she's moved; by Alhaitham, she barely registers, lifted out of her messy nest. The puppy girl moans in discomfort, her joints feeling creaky, the hands on her feeling ice cold on her bare skin. She misses the candid look Alhaitham shoots to his other half, to which Kaveh responds with a small shake of his head.

The puppy girl chirps out, feeling open and exposed, the frigid air of the room making her skin feel tight. Her tummy churns, thick with anxiety, scared that she's been naughty, afraid of their reaction, she had made a mess. Her ears fold and her tail curls inward, she can't help the little warbles that bleed from her throat, the soft 'm sorrys' chanting into the room. Alhaitham carefully noses into his little puppy's neck, mouthing at her skin, setting the spot alight, burning so nicely down her shoulder. Goosebumps prickle down her back, the fur on her ears and tail stands up, a soft rumble ripples from her chest. The puppy girl settles slightly, her chest feeling gooey and fuzzy, her instincts quieting down.

Alhaitham moves, lowering his sweet puppy back into her plush nest, now tidy and neat, the aforementioned blanket and messy pillow are shifted out of sight. Kaveh lays instead, his naked back against the soft structure, somehow he had managed to strip down without her noticing; not that she was even half aware of her surroundings. The puppy girl sits, perched prettily in Kaveh's lap, her skin warm against his own, her chest heaves gently, her breaths short and panting. Her lips wobble, her eyes shine with fresh hot tears, slowly trickling down her cheeks. Kaveh is quick to comfort his sweet girl, rubbing one hand down her side and cupping her face, wiping away her tears with his thumb. The puppy girl hiccups, her tummy burned and her head hurt, Kaveh's floral scent flooded her mind making her dizzy. She could feel the heat from Kaveh's cock against her skin below, her body pulsed, her silly instincts practically screaming at her. She tentatively wriggles her hips against Kaveh's lap, her hands braced on his chest.

"Pretty Girl.. You're so needy aren't you?" Kaveh coos, his hand massages the flesh on his puppy girl's hip. She whimpers, half embarrassed and in desperation, her cunny ached badly, she needed something, any kind of relief. She noses at Kaveh, nuzzling into his cheek, pitiful chirps squeaking into his skin. He breathes out a chuckle, kissing into her skin.

"Is your cunny ouchy Baby..? Yeah? Awh…" Kaveh pokes at his sweet puppy, she nods, her face a muddled mess of emotions. Kaveh 'tuts' affectionately, caressing his hands across her hips, slowly itching his hand towards her achey puppy cunt.

"Here sweetheart?" He circles her puffy clit, eliciting a sweet mewl from his silly little puppy girl. She nods again, her fluffy tail wags and her hips squirm, Kaveh's touch just felt so, so nice. Kaveh hums, his fingertips gentle on her cunny, slowly rubbing her pretty clit.

".. More~.. M-more!" The puppy girl wails, wriggling her hips into Kaveh's fingers. She pushes against them, doing anything to make them slip into her little puppy pussy, she wanted more, needed more. Kaveh coos, his brow pinching sympathetically, his hand leaves her pretty clit, favouring his own cock. He grips the base, sliding the head of his length up and down his puppy's fat pussy lips the keens out, her slick dribbling from her cunny and onto his cockhead. He smears the sweet mixture onto her clit, tapping his length against it teasingly, making her cunny spike in pleasure. Kaveh slips his cock down, inline with his puppy's cunny hole, slowly, he slips in, pushing his cock up with his hips. Her puppy cunt gushes all over Kaveh's cock, creamy and wet, drooling from her heat, making a sticky mess all over Kaveh's lap. Not that he minded, his hands leveled his puppy's hips, helping her bounce and grind on his length. Over her shoulder, he spots Alhaitham, naked and slowly stroking his own cock, his breaths huffing steadily through his lips. A groan erupts from Kaveh's chest and his pretty puppy cries aloud, fat tears roll down her cheeks, her lips fold into a wonky grin. Kaveh's cock felt so good in her cunny, fucking her so, so well, his scent, his grip on her hip and his length all turning the poor puppy into mush.

"..'Veh… Kaveh.. 'S good!" She croaks out, finally finding her voice. The puppy girl grinds hard on Kaveh's pelvis, her pretty clit catching on to his skin. She mewls, her tail wagging hard, her tummy burned and bubbled, her cunny clenching deliciously around Kaveh's cock. Kaveh's grip tightens, he brings his sweet puppy down and kisses her pretty lips, dipping his tongue into her mouth. She licks at his tongue, swirling them together, breathlessly moaning into his throat. Her hips pick up, slapping against Kaveh's own, her puppy cunt squeezes his cock. She bites at Kaveh's lips, her puffy clit zapping deliciously everytime she brings her hips down, her puppy cunny clenches, and she sobs into Kaveh's mouth. The poor heated puppy creams sweetly on Kaveh's cock, her hips stuttering with her release, pulsing and clenching Kaveh's length. She humps against him, riding out her sweet orgasm on his cock, humming airily as she grinds and wiggles her hips against him. Kaveh exhales, his chest pounding, he peers behind her once again, spotting Alhaitham. The other steps forward, his eyes raked over the silly puppy girl in Kaveh's lap, still squirming on his length.

"Shh.. Settle…" Alhaitham quips, his hand finds the puppy girl's hips once again, steadying them in place. The puppy sniffs and chirps, her puppy cunt still ached, her heat not yet satisfied. She tries to wriggle out of his grasp, tries to grind down on Kaveh's cock, tries her very best to work his length with her sweet puppy cunt. Kaveh hisses through his teeth, his composure crackling, nearly falling too far into his sweet puppy's cunny. Alhaitham's fingers tighten, he presses the puppy girl down into Kaveh's lap, his cock kisses her cunny so sweetly it makes her feel high, she keens and her tail wags quickly. Alhaitham props himself behind his sweet puppy, peppering firm kisses up the canvas of her back, all the way up to the juncture of her neck. She stifles a noise, pitched somewhere between pleasure and desperation, her brain confused at the ongoings happening in that moment.

Alhaitham hushes her once again, gentle but direct, he squeezes her hips and plants a firm kiss to his puppy's skin. She warbles, growing impatient, her tummy burns, her cunny drools and her instincts ring in the forefront of her mind. The scents of the two men only making matters worse, Kaveh's thick cock in her puppy cunt, Alhaitham's large hands and lips planted on her skin. It was all too much to handle for one poor little puppy. She felt frustrated, no amount of squirming or crying would make the man behind her let go. She needed it, needed them, needed their cocks in her puppy cunny, fucking her dumb and breeding her good.

"..'Haithm.." She manages, turning her head to him, her eyes glassy and her brow pitched, she pouts prettily. Kaveh caresses the skin on her waist, in an attempt to settle the poor puppy. Alhaithm hums, his hands drag from her hips, one inching down to her pretty clit and the other across the plump cheek of her ass. His thumb slowly drags over his puppy girl's clit, circling her slick over the swollen bead. She gasps out, her legs flexing and her puppy cunt clenching sweetly on Kaveh's cock. Kaveh sighs out, his hands continuing to tickle and pet her skin, narrowing his eyes at Alhaithm, he was being greedy, meanly teasing their poor little puppy. Alhaitham's other hand drags over the skin of her ass, down to her cute little puppy pussy, already stuffed full of Kaveh's length. Slowly, he pokes at her heat, coating his fingers in wet slick, admiring the sweet ring of cream dribbled around Kaveh's cock. The two make a noise from their throat and Alhaitham 'tuts' affectionately, his hand on her clit speeding up, egging the puppy girl to squirm and hump against Kaveh once again. She cries quietly, sweet little noises bubble from her lips.

".. You're very needy, sweet Pup.." Alhaitham half teases, his tone nearly unreadable, his puppy girl whines irritably. Alhaitham abruptly slides two deft fingers into her pretty puppy pussy, stretching her cunny out with Kaveh's cock. Both Kaveh and their puppy stutter out in surprise, taken aback by the sweet press of Alhaitham's fingers. He curls his digits, fucking into her heat, her slick dribbles down his knuckles, messing his hand. He stretches her puppy pussy, his other hand pinches down on her clit, making her gush wetly on both of the men. The puppy chirps and cries, Alhaitham's thick fingers squelching into her puppy cunny so sweetly, egging Kaveh into grinding his cock into her little cervix. It felt so good, her skin burnt with pleasure rather than pain, her head span deliciously, high on the thick wave of desire that coursed through her veins. She fucks back into Alhaitham's fingers, subsequently rocking Kavehs length deep into her puppy cunt. She mewls, wriggling her hips in time with Alhaitham's skilled hands, her cunny still felt achey, she needed more, she needed so much more, needed to be bred, needed their thick cocks, needed their sticky cum in her tummy.

".. m.. 'need more~.. 'Haithem 'n Kaveh… want more!" The silly puppy spurs out. Alhaitham hums, the sound rumbles deep from his chest. His fingers spread her drooling hole, she feels something press against her puppy pussy, blunt and warm. Slowly, Alhaitham pushes his fat cock into his puppy's sweet little hole, alongside Kavehs own length. The stretch was intense, Alhaitham's fingers never left her pretty clit, slowly pressing his fingertips into her swollen pussy. The puppy cries, her fluffy tail wagging haphazardly against her back, her puppy pussy on display for Alhaitham to see, stretched prettily and stuffed full of cock. Below, Kaveh lets out his own keening whine, breathy and soft, he bites on his bottom lip. Alhaitham slips his fingers out of his puppy girl's cunny, his hand slick and covered in puppy cream. He half smirks, grinding his hips against his puppy's ass, sliding his cock deep into her cunny, dragging against Kaveh's own. The two below him sigh out and Alhaitham begins a steady pace, fucking in and out of his puppy's pretty creamy cunt. Kaveh bumps his hips upwards, his hands sit on his puppy's legs, holding her still for him to drill into her.

"Fuck!~ Such a good little p-puppy aren't you..? Taking two cocks at once..? Yeah~? We'll make your cunny feel better baby~" Kaveh babbles, fucking himself stupid in his puppy's cunt, so tight thanks to Alhaitham's fat cock rubbing against his own. He can't stop blubbering, spouting sweet debauchery into the air of the room, keening filthy praises to his sweet little puppy. Alhaitham growls, his pace quickening, hips clapping roughly against his poor puppy's. He reaches down, his slick covered hand pressing to Kaveh's lips, he presses in, silencing his pussy drunk blabbering. Kaveh eagerly sucks Alhaithams digits in, swirling his tongue around his thick fingers, drooling over the sweet taste of his puppy's cunt. Alhaitham leans forward, mouthing at his puppy's neck, kissing and biting into her sensitive scent marker. Their Puppy Girl keens, her cunny felt so full, just as she needed, two pretty cocks fucking her stupid, riding out her heat on her roommates' laps. Alhaitham's hand on her clit burns hot, rubbing and pinching at her pussy, his cock rubs and grinds deliciously into her creamy cunny. Kaveh's cock stuffs her full, bullying her cervix and bulging behind her tummy. The sweet puppy keens, humping against the two men, grinding her sweet pussy into Alhaitham's fingers, her cunny gushes wetly, leaking down their lengths.

The air was thick with musk, heated from the warm bodies in her comfy nest, bodies shined in sweat and slick, sliding against each other. The sweet puppygirl fucked dumb on her roommates' cocks, stretched so well, they fucked into her as a duo. The slide of their lengths bumping into each other's, aching and pulsing hotly into her puppy cunt. The puppy girl writhes, her body feeling electrified, her clit feeling spiky with pleasure, her cunny clenches around the fat cocks pressed inside her. It was too much, too stretched, too hot, just the way she needed, her joints felt gooey, her head blissed out. Her sweet puppy cunt felt hot, aching and clenching, creamy around the long lengths inside of her.

Vaguely she could hear Kaveh's slurred babbles, praises and filthy words tumble from his stuffed mouth, wet around Alhaitham's fingers. Alhaitham scrapes his teeth over her neck, biting down into her skin, his hand rubbing her sore clit so sweetly. Her head spins, her cunny clenches, her legs ache so good against Kaveh's hips. The fucked out puppy girl barely whimpers out a 'cumming!' before she cries. Her puppy cunt clenches around the stretch inside her, her clit throbs against Alhaitham's fingertips, her hips stuttering against their cocks. The silly puppy shakes, her pretty pussy squirts all over the thick cocks in her heat, hot and wet, messing all over Kaveh's lap. She bumps and grinds against them, riding out her orgasm, egging the two on themselves. Kaveh moans against Alhaitham's fingers, his pretty cock pulsing into his puppy, cumming into her pretty puppy cunt. Alhaitham presses deep into her cunny, his fat cock drags against Kaveh's, the thick squeeze of his puppy's walls milking his cockhead so sweetly. They fuck and hump against eachother, their two cocks pulsing together, breeding their sweet puppy full of milky, creamy cum.

Eventually, they pull away, carefully sliding their slick cocks out of their puppy's pussy, wet with each other's cum. Their puppy wriggles her hips teasingly, humming softly from her throat. Kaveh breathes out deeply, pulling his puppy into his arms, cradling her sweetly in her plush nest. Alhaitham pets both of their heads, planting a soft kiss upon their skin, nosing into their sweaty foreheads before making his way out of the room. Distantly, the splash of running water can be heard from the bathroom, surely Alhaitham drawing a bath for the three of them to share. A little more doting was due for their sweet puppy girl, and they were more than willing to help her through the rest of her heat.

After All, The Life Of a Puppy Girl Was High Maintenance.

𝙸𝚖- 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚢? 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚑𝚊

𝚁𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐!

𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍! 𝙸'𝚍 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚁𝚘𝚝 𝙼𝚢 𝙱𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚈'𝚊𝚕𝚕 😩

•··························•Shameless Plug•··························•

♡More Kavehaitham x HYBRID!Reader♡

•●Alhaitham&Kaveh Play With Their Puppy Girl

•●Alhaitham&Kaveh Punish Their Kitty Girl

𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙳𝚘 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚁𝚎𝚞𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗!

•·················🍑·················•🍑•·················🍑·················•