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in-a-mountain-pool · 1 year ago

Text

Supermassive Black Hole Ch3

Ettore x Reader

pronouns: She/her (afab)

rating: Explicit/18+

warnings: NSFW/minors DNI, mutual masturbation, smut, mentions of violence

word count: ~5500

summary: A cosmic event brings Ettore and Y/N closer together, and it’s only a matter of time before the two collide.

A/N: This was a whopper of a chapter! I’ve not written smut in ages so I found writing this a bit of a challenge! I hope the wait was worth it... Beautiful space theme borders by saradika. As always, comments, likes and reblogs aren’t needed, but always lovely to come online to!

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Masterlist

In the days that followed, Monte had hardly even looked at Y/N. Every mealtime the canteen would be bustling with the crew and inmates, but suddenly Monte was a no show.

It was their evening mealtime, and Ettore was standing in the queue watching her over his shoulder as she sat there alone. He’d watched her do the same thing for three days now, sitting there with a plate ready for Monte, and beside her an empty chair.

The arsehole was avoiding her like a soppy schoolkid.

Even to him it seemed unnecessarily cold. The concentrated way that she’d bite at her plush bottom lip, the way she tapped her foot nervously against the linoleum floor almost made him angry for her. Since her last run in with Monte she’d taken to sitting alone in the rec room with a cheap pair of headphones in her ears listening to music, which were now slung loose around her neck.

Without Monte, it seemed her existence was to be a lonely one.

This was it. This was the perfect chance for him to make a move, ingratiate himself to her and reel her in. It had become more than just about fucking her. More than anything Ettore wanted her to choose him over Monte.

He wanted her to want him just as much as he had craved her attentions.

And when it did inevitably happen, he wanted her to beg and scrape for him just as much as she did for Monte. But he would make sure she got what she deserved and more, whether she wanted it or not.

Yet, in the back of his mind he couldn’t help but think about how much it upset him to see her so lonely like that. She was nice. She was truly sweet. She didn’t seem to belong in a place like this. She didn’t seem that well equipped to deal with the sort of people here either.

The sort of person he was.

He’d wanted to take advantage of her. Afterall, it wouldn’t be that hard. Her innocence only made him want her more and more. But could he really go through with it when the time came? Could he force someone like her when push came to shove?

He was shaken from his reverie when a tray was shoved into his hands, almost spilling the cup of processed water all over his front. Before his mind could keep up with his body, he was already making his way over to her table, taking a seat in the chair opposite Y/N.

“This seat taken?” He smirked, gesturing at the tray she’d brought for Monte, laying cold and untouched. When she shrugs and avoids his gaze, he can’t help but prod.

“A simple yes or no would have been enough, princess.”

He haphazardly chucks his tray onto the table and skims is his eyes over her. “Got a bra on today, I see? Shame. I’d gotten used to seeing those tits of yours.”

When she almost drops her cutlery and scowls up at him, he raises his hands up in a mock surrender and giggles with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Am jokin’, am jokin’. Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.” With a sly grin he winks at her and digs into his meal, talking with his mouth full.

“So, what’s his name is a no-show again eh’?”

She eyes him warily sighing as she starts to drink the water she’d brought for Monte.

“… No. ‘What’s his name’ is avoiding me like the plague. You’d honestly think I’d killed someone or something.”

Now this was something he was very intrigued by. He used to like to guess exactly what it was that each inmate had done, but to him she was a blank slate. He raises an eyebrow at this and quirks his lips upwards with a teasing lilt to his voice, “Well, did you?”

Y/N gives him a lopsided smile and shakes her head, refusing to say a word and shoving the extra tray towards him playfully.

God she was a mystery to him.

“Eat up. It’ll only go to waste if you don’t. So… Why you are you sat here with me today?”

Her voice drops to a nervous whisper as she leans over the table slightly, pretending to hand him the salt. “You’re not gonna try to blackmail me for breaking the rules with Monte, are you?”

His blue eyes flash to hers intensely for a moment before he shoots her a smug smile, pursing his lips and sucking his teeth as he rakes his eyes over her.

“Now why would I do that? We said it would be our secret, didn’t we? And I never break a promise. Especially not when there’s a pretty girl on the line.”

He starts to wolf down Monte’s dinner with a wide grin on his face, manners long forgotten. “Nah… I just wanted to check in, make sure that you weren’t losing your mind over that loser.”

She sips her water and eyes him over the rim of the plastic cup before she replies with a small cheeky, and not all too convincing smile. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I’m a big girl trust me.”

“Well for what it’s worth, I’ve always thought he was a jumped-up twat, and you deserve better.”

He decides to make small talk as he chews on a rather dry piece of bread, and points to her headphones with an impish look in his eyes. “Wotcha listening to? Let me guess, some Taylor Swift tunes about how much you hate your boyfriend and how he’s ruined your life?”

She doesn’t take the bait, and just shakes her head softly. When she silently takes an earphone and offers it out to him he’s taken aback by her openness. Her fingers brush against his palm for only a moment and he can hardly ignore the sharp, warm feeling inside his chest.

He hadn’t been touched by anyone in weeks, except for in acts of violence, but here she was, gentle and unassuming, being kind to him of all people.

Ettore lifts the headphone to his ear and can only smirk, his eyes wide with surprise when he hears the music playing.

“Oh… classical music, is it? So, you’re one of those rich snobby girls then?”

She shakes her head in disbelief and bites her lip smiling at him. “I’m hardly a posh girl, and definitely not rich. It’s just- nice and calming to listen to in a place like this…” She trails off for a moment before her eyes flash with a look of mischief. “I’m terribly sorry to ruin whatever weird fantasy of me you have rolling around that head of yours.”

With a cheeky laugh he passes the headphone back to her with the same gentleness she’d shown him earlier, resting it back around her neck, his finger catching on a lock of her hair as he does so.

It was nice to touch her. Even nicer to be touched by her.

Ettore coughs awkwardly and licks his lip trying to recover himself. “So… I can’t imagine you as a Catholic school girl, then? With one of those little, short skirts and the knee-high socks, anymore? You’re breaking my heart, Y/N.”

The sweet sound she makes as she laughs does something to him, and for a moment all he can picture is her smile and the way she gazed at Monte that morning just a week before in the canteen.

But this time it was him who’d made her laugh.

This time she was here, eating dinner with him.

Y/N shakes her head at him in disapproval, a bashful look on her face as she picks up their trays and makes ready to leave. “You need to get your head checked out, Ettore.”

Don’t go yet, he thinks to himself.

“I bet you were clever though.” The words leave his mouth before he can even process his thoughts.

He didn’t want her to leave. He wanted to make this last longer, if only for a minute.

“I bet you were a real nerd at school. I’d probably have stolen your lunch money, wouldn’t I?”

That sound again.

She lets out a small giggle, shaking her head at him as she walks away from him, walking backwards so she can face him. “Again, not posh enough for that!”

And just like that, she was gone again.

Ettore exhaled deeply looked down at the empty space in front of him intensely, tapping his finger on the side of the steel table, as he other gripped the side so hard his knuckles turned white.

Why was he being so fucking needy?

He tries to shake the stupid grin off his face for just being near her. He tries to ignore that feeling in his gut, that deep immense feeling of want as she touched his hand.

Why on earth was he making jokes about Catholic school girls and Taylor Swift!?

Just how long could he wait until he just he just took her?

Why the fuck hadn’t he already?!

He didn’t give a shit about Monte, and he wasn’t scared of him, not by a long shot. He was going to have to take her tonight. No more games of cat and mouse. He was the predator, and she was the prey.

And that was that.

But then his agitated movements stopped altogether at once, his breath catching in his throat and his chest tightening almost painfully as his eyes flickered down, the light catching something on his arm… for there on the sleeve of his sweater was a strand of her hair.

And all he can think of is the content of her smile.

The night that follows was a restless one, and not only for thoughts of her.

He’d lain for hours staring at the ceiling twirling the lock of her hair gently between his fingers and agonising over her before he’d finally been able to fall asleep.

But not for long.

*BEEP BEEP BEEP*

The stark blue lighting of ship flickered on and off intermittently, leaving the corridors veiled in darkness before the sound of a shrill alarm startled him awake suddenly. The guards stormed into their cell block ordering them loudly to line up outside their rooms.

Tcherney and Monte were already outside by the time Ettore had stumbled out of his cell. With no time to grab a shirt or shoes, he’d slumped against the wall with only his grey sweatpants slung low on his slim hips. He squinted his eyes at the harsh blue lights in the corridor as Dr Dibs walked hurriedly towards their block to address them.

There had been a rare and shifting phenomenon. The black hole they were orbiting, or the ‘corona’, as she had called it, was emitting X-ray flares. The X-rays released had disrupted the ships generators, meaning conservation of power was of the utmost importance to ensure their experiments could continue. Only half of the ship could be powered for the foreseeable future, meaning the men’s cell block was to be shut down, and the male inmates were to temporarily share with the women.

They filed out towards the women’s cell block, the guards tired and pushing them forward impatiently as Dr Dibs assigned the rooms out loud, struggling to be heard over the piercing sound of the alarms. Boyse was to share with Tcherney, Dr Dibs would take Monte to the labs to assist with monitoring their life support systems, and, to his utter delight, Y/N would bunk with him.

Ettore couldn’t help but lock eyes with Monte at hearing this. He was, in a word, seething, his hand curling into a tight fist at his side and his nostrils flaring as he glared right back at him.

That’s right prick, she’s mine.

A sneering grin painted Ettore’s face. He childishly wiggled his eyebrows at him suggestively as he strolled into Y/N’s cell, accidentally shoulder checking Monte on his way past.

And there she was.

But then his smirk faltered when he finally saw her.

Y/N was laying down on her side upon the bottom bunk, curled up into a little ball. She looked so small and fragile, draped in an oversized shirt (her own this time), with a skimpy pair of shorts peeking out from beneath.

That chestnut brown hair of hers was fanned out on the pillow beneath her, making that now all too familiar ache in his chest return once again as he tried to compose himself. When she speaks, her green eyes search his nervously, her soft voice almost impossible to make out against the alarms.

“Should we be worried…? Are we going to be safe? Dibs- she said they were closing off half of the ship to keep up the life support systems... Has this happened before?”

She was frightened.

A wave of protectiveness hits him as he tentatively sits on the side of her bunk, watching her like a hawk as if he was afraid one false movement would scare her off completely.

His voice comes out hoarse and intense, and for a moment he’s worried that she’ll be afraid of him.

She should be afraid of him.

“… Don’t worry, this shit happens all of the time. The ship is an old heap of junk. Trust me, I’ve seen it all and this… this is fine. We’ll be fine.”

Y/N gazes up at him wide eyed with a look of pure trust, and once again he’s struck with a deep agonising pang of guilt in his chest.

He was a monster.

He was a monster for even thinking about wanting to hurt her, for wanting to force her when she was such a sweet and delicate thing.

She trusted him. He’d ruin her. And he knew it.

The alarms finally stop and a deep quiet fills the cell block as the inmates start to fall asleep. She doesn’t say anything to him, just nods slowly and her eyes flicker down to the bed as she turns over to face the wall.

Ettore is on autopilot when he climbs onto the top bunk, laying there so close to her and yet so far away that he can hardly breath. He lies back with his forearm covering his face and his eyes screwed shut, trying more than anything to focus on sleeping.

All he can see is her, her body, her eyes.

The conflict inside his head is almost as loud as the alarms before, his thoughts echoing loudly in his ears as he tossed and turned. He could have been there for seconds, minutes, hours, he wasn’t sure.

All he felt was the need to be with her.

The deep want to know her better than Monte ever could.

The desire to have her and the perverted thoughts he’d wanted to act upon now that he was alone with her.

But all of this was silenced when she finally speaks again.

“Th-…Thank you. For being nice to me… You cheered me up today. You even made me laugh.”

His eyes flicker open in surprise, as he sits up absorbing her words and nervously biting the inside of his cheek.

There was a mirror opposite them at the end of the bunk bed, and in the dark blue light of the room he could just about make out her form.

And there she was, doing exactly the same as him, sat cross-legged and staring up at his reflection pensively, nervously picking at the nail bed of her thumb.

“… You… you don’t really talk to anyone here. Except me. Why? And… answer honestly, be serious for once.”

Ettore wasn’t sure if it was the fact he was so sleep deprived, so crazed with desire for her, or if it was some side effect of the cosmic event outside, but the words just seemed to flow out of him on their own.

There was no room for hesitation. Not now.

“Well… I talk to you… because I like the way you make me feel. I like… how innocent you are. How soft you look... You’re not like the rest of us. Not like me, anyway.”

And there, just there…. There was something in the way Y/N looked at him in the reflection in front of him that convinced him. He’d felt it every time they’d spoken. He’d seen it in the way her eyes would meet his as they passed by each other outside the box. He seen the way her gaze had lingered on his toned body when he’d entered the room.

She was attracted to him.

Her cheeks were flushed and her lips pouted. It was undeniable.

Her eyes fluttered downwards when his blue eyes flashed to her body, taking in her slim long legs and the delicate trace of her collarbones peeking out from beneath the low collar of her shirt.

In her silence he decides to continue, his voice thick and hoarse, trying hard to think straight as he watches her drinking in the sight of his bare chest once again in the low light of the room, heaving as it feels like all the air in the room has disappeared.

“… Because you're beautiful. Because I think I could make you happy… I could make you feel things you've never felt before. You would never need to ask me.”

He couldn’t help himself as he poured out his want for her all at once, listening to her gasp quietly at his shameless confession.

He watched transfixed as she licked her lip nervously, her doe eyes flitting from his body to the sheet beneath her over and over, thoughts racing through her mind.

“We won’t get this chance again. Just one night. No strings. I can make you forget about him. I promise.” He whispers, his voice gravelly and deep.

Her small voice comes out broken and shy against the darkness of the room. “Dibs… she said we couldn’t touch each other… and there’s Monte… and-” He cuts her off in desperation.

“Look… If you don't want me to touch you, I won't… But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy tonight. I can still keep you warm, help you relax. Just let me.”

Ettore’s toned torso shone in the blue light of the room, and he could feel her watching as his hand brushed down against the soft blonde hair that spread below his navel.

His icy blue eyes are fixed onto hers in the mirror, as ever so slowly he reaches down to caress the growing outline of his length in his trousers, his head lolling back a little as he continues to stare at her.

“No one has to know. It’s… just like using the box.” Ettore lets out a soft sigh when he sees her hand stroke softly up her thigh, all wide eyed and flushed.

“We’re not breaking any rules… you’re not cheating on Monte. Let’s use each other… Let me make you feel good.”

When her hand reaches the edge of her shorts the deep exhale that leaves his mouth is almost embarrassing as he starts to plead with her, his hand now gripping himself through his sweats, the bulge there impossible for her to ignore any longer.

“… Touch yourself for me. That's what you want, isn't it? To feel good? To feel wanted?”

Ettore shifts himself closer to the edge of the bunk and dropping forward onto his knees to see her more clearly beneath him in the mirror’s reflection. A devilish smile appears on his face when he takes in the sheen of sweat shining on her body already.

She wanted this.

“You'd like it, wouldn't you? For me to tell you what to do… you love the sound of my voice, don’t you?”

He lets his hand slip beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, he hadn’t bothered to wear any underwear. His cock is impossibly hard and weeping as he grips it tightly at the base, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he can gather the courage to continue.

“Take off your shorts for me.”

He can hardly believe his eyes when she disappears from view for a second, shifting on the bunk bed to pull down her shorts, leaving her in a small pair of black standard issue panties.

“Good girl... Now, move closer to the edge of the bunk so I can see you.”

Y/N slides forward to the edge of the bed, leaning on her knees wantonly and gazing up at him with that gorgeous mouth of hers hanging open softly. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of her, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as a soft groan escapes his throat. The black fabric of her panties was soaked, the crotch shining with slick even in the low light of the cell.

“Fucking hell, Y/N. You’re so wet and I haven’t even touched you…” He hisses, his voice drops lower still, a jealous flash covering his eyes. “Tell me, has Monte ever got you this soaked?”

He tries desperately to ignore the pang in his chest when she doesn’t reply, pushing it to the back of his mind as he gazes slack jawed at the wet spot forming at her covered centre.

Ettore sucks his teeth and tuts at her shaking his head. “I wish you would let me touch you.”

His eyes search hers shyly as he finally reaches his hands down and pulls off his grey sweatpants to ease the tension there, his flushed cock springing free from their confines.

Ettore spits into his palm, wincing as his long fingers wrap around the base of his stiff length, working their way upwards and stroking his thumb over his swollen pink head. Her eyes were fixed on him pleasuring himself, rubbing his thick and leaking cock up and down slowly.

Ettore chuckled darkly at the way she bit her lip hard enough to bleed as she leered at him.

He knew he was big.

“I shouldn’t have to waste any of my spit when your pussy is wet enough for the both of us…” Blue eyes stare intensely into hers as his tongue flicks out to lick his lips suggestively. “…but I’ll play along for you.”

A faint smile ghosts across her face as she leans forwards to look at his reflection even closer.

Oh god, she was enjoying it. She fucking wanted this. She wanted him.

“Do you like what you see, gorgeous? It’s all for you. Only you.” He croons, his eyes hooded now, as his fist gently pumps his hard cock teasingly. “Pull them down for me sweetheart, and spread your legs wider… I need to see you.”

And she did.

Without a single word, without a single thought, Y/N pulled down her panties, placed her feet down on the bed and spread her thighs wider, leaning back as she revealed herself to him completely.

And she was perfect.

She was beautiful.

“Oh shit, you really are wet… and all shaved and neat for me too?” Ettore’s body shudders, his shoulder slumping forwards as he places his free hand down onto the hard mattress to lean closer to the mirror, stroking his cock to the sight of her dripping cunt.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy… and for what? Monte isn’t even using you… Such a waste.”

He swallows harshly as his fingers traces the underside of his cock, pressing down on the thick vein running along his length. “Now… suck your fingers for me. Get them nice and wet.”

He squeezes the base of his cock with a stuttered groan as she hollows her rosy cheeks, her pink lips framing her fingers prettily as she takes them knuckle deep into her mouth.

“If I was allowed to touch you, I wouldn’t use my hand… but for now, I just want you to just circle your clit. And when you do... I need you to watch me.”

He sees her, and the reflection in her eyes tells him exactly what she’s thinking. Ettore leans even closer to the mirror watching her hesitate.

“Are you afraid of me, Y/N, or are you afraid of what you might like?” He growls.

“I won’t tell, I promise. We both know we need this... So please… play with yourself for me.”

When her small fingers finally slide from her soft thigh to her swollen folds it’s hard for him not to whimper out loud, a half-sob spilling from her throat at the sensation. And just like he’d asked, her sweet face remained fixed onto the sight of him.

“Shh... be quiet, or we’ll get caught.” He gravels out.

His eyes dart between his heavy length in his hand and her fingers sinking into her heat to swipe slick over her throbbing clit in tight circles, soft mewling noises coaxed from her heart shaped lips.

The harsh blue lighting makes the head of his cock shine as he covers himself with a mix of his own spit and precum, gazing down at her glistening core in the reflection of the mirror.

The sloppy sound of her finger now pumping into her wet cunt is almost obscene, echoing in the room and sending a wave of heat straight down to the base of his spine. His voice comes out more desperate than he’d planned it to… he’d never felt this way about anyone.

“… Do you like this? Does it make you feel good seeing how hard you make me?”

“Ah… I… fuck, it does, Ettore. It feels amazing.” Her eyes squeeze shut in embarrassment as she lets of a soft high-pitched whine, covering her mouth and face hastily with her spare hand like she was ashamed by how wanting she was.

Ettore grunts and shakes slightly as he fists himself tightly, struggling to get his words out clearly.

“You know why that is, baby girl? Because you know I’ll take care of you. I know what you need. You might be a good girl out there… but this here, this is the real you. And it’s so fucking beautiful.”

She whimpers again as she fucks herself with her finger, throwing her head back in pleasure as he praises her. He sinks his hand down to cup his balls softly, pinching the soft skin of his ball sack and rolling it between his index finger and thumb, his hard dick on show for her and bobbing in front of the mirror.

His jaw hangs open slightly, his tight abs contracting and relaxing as he works himself, matching the pace at which she pumps her finger into her pulsing heat. “God I wish you’d let me fuck you.”

“Every night I go to the box I think about you, Y/N. Did you know that? God you’ve been so needy this week, like bitch in heat haven’t you?” Ettore groans out raggedly, gripping at his cock.

She’s only able to respond with a pathetic nod of her head, her words failing her at his blatant admission.

“I know… I know, baby girl… You want more don’t you? But it was you who said I couldn’t touch you.” He snickers teasingly as a thought comes to him.

“Get your pillow and put it under your ass for me.”

When she does this he can see her juices dripping down her inner thighs to soak the white fabric underneath her. She’s splayed out for him even better now, her slick pooling into the tight puckered hole beneath her pussy in a way that has him completely transfixed.

The noises in the darkened room are lewd and wet as he fists his cock faster now. Grunts and whimpers fill the air as she adds another finger, sloppily pumping her them into her core, the new angle helping her reach that sensitive patch inside herself, making her mewl pathetically.

“Do you always think about Monte in the box? Or have you ever thought about me? Please… tell me you’ve thought about this cock….”

She let out a desperate whine and screws up her face as the truth spills out of her. “I did… I do… I- I saw you.” She pants out, her hand reaching up underneath her shirt to paw at her tits desperately.

“I saw you in the corridor that day… I knew what you were doing… I’ve thought about it. Thought about you.”

Everything stops for a moment, his movement falters, his breath hitches, and his eyes focus only on her face.

She knew. She’d seen. And she’d carried on like nothing had even happened.

The makes something in him snap and he has to stop for a moment, his hands shaking and his cheeks flushing a deep pink as he desperately tries to hold off his climax.

“F-Fuck, Y/N. I knew it. Oh… you’re such a fucking good girl… Why didn’t you tell Monte?

The way he growls and pants only urges her on further, she can’t even form the words she’s so drunk on the feeling of him, the pleasure, his jealously, the feeling of him wanting her.

“Answer me. Why didn’t you tell him?”

She whimpers yet again and quickens her pace, and he can’t help but laugh out loud bitterly.

She’d been protecting him. She was just as perverted as him. She’d liked it.

“You can’t even say it… Oh… you love my attention don’t you? You want someone to notice you… Naughty girl. Monte’s just a boy and you need a real man don’t you?”

She nods pathetically in the reflection of the mirror, her cheeks pink and her expression wanton and shameless.

“Why don’t you give Daddy your panties and I’ll let you finish?”

Wordlessly she shakily passes her soaked panties to him from the bottom bunk, his fingers brushing her wet fingers and gathering some of the slick coating them. He brings them to his face, visibly shaking when he inhales her scent before sinking his fingers and her juices into his mouth.

“Oh shittt… you taste sweet. Sweetest fucking pussy I’ve ever tasted…”

He grabs his own pillow now, shoving it inbetween his legs. He wanted to finish with her and the thought of touching his cock with his slick covered fingers was just too much to handle.

Ettore hips begin to rock slowly, dragging his length over the fabric as he begins to hump against the soft pillow. His hands rest tightly on his hips as his chest begins to rise and fall jaggedly, watching her eyes squeeze shut in pleasure, her thighs shaking now.

“Oh, you poor girl… you need to cum don’t you? I can see it in your eyes… Tell me.”

“I need- Ah- I need to cum. The box… it’s not enough… I need to cum, I need…”

He continues to rut against the mattress, his cock swollen red as he takes his other hand down to twist and squeeze his balls. He rubs his nose into the crotch of her panties, breathing in her scent and panting pathetically.

Ettore grunts a little angrily now and lets out a low bitter laugh.

“You need to cum… what, baby girl?”

He smirks and snarls a little, licking at her panties crotch and locking eyes with her in the mirror when she finally says the words he’d dreamed of hearing.

“I need to cum…. Daddy.”

With her confession, everything starts to lose control and their movements become more frenzied, Ettore rutting so eagerly against the pillow that the whole bed frame starts to squeak, and he finds he can barely hold on anymore.

“Fuck! Show me your tits and make yourself come. Pinch them, fuck yourself… I can’t hold on much longer…”

She drags her shirt up to her neck revealing her heaving breasts, they’re moving now she’s pumping into herself so hard and fast. When she pinches her nipples her jaw hangs open, her eyes screw shut… and then she’s there.

With a soft high-pitched whine, she’s climaxing hard, squirting onto the pillow and biting her lip so hard she breaks the soft skin.

He doesn’t give her much time to recover, and quickly lays on his side on the top bunk, rapidly fisting his pink flushed cock.

“Y/N, get up, open your mouth and take what I’m gonna give you.”

Doing as she’s told, she shakily jumps up to face the bunk, gripping the frame tightly to steady herself. Her sweet, blushed face is level with his cock as she opens her mouth to him, tongue out and waiting. Within a few seconds he leans forward and spills onto her tongue with a deep guttural moan, coating her lips and chin with hot ropes of his cum.

And just like that the moment is over. He slumps down laying on his back panting, gazing down at her as she wordlessly swallows his spend and licks her lips to clean up the rest.

He couldn’t believe she’d actually done it.

…Had she really wanted this?

Should he kiss her? Would she even want him to?

He can barely think straight, his forearm coming up to cover his face as he lays there catching his breath, sweat cooling on his skin. When he finally opens his eyes again she’s already gone, laying down on the bottom bunk and dressing hastily.

Fuck. He should say something. Say anything.

“… Thanks.” He swallows and stutters awkwardly, staring up at the ceiling. “Did you… you did… finish didn’t you?”

Her voice comes out small and shy again, she’s retreated further back now under the bunk that he can no longer see her in the mirror, and something about this makes his stomach lurch.

“I did, yeah. Uhm… Thanks.”

Silence.

Not another word was exchanged between the of them for the rest of the night.

He’d thought about this for days, how he’d take her, how he’d force her, how he might hurt her, but there and then, in that very moment… he hadn’t been able to bring himself to lay a single finger on her.

He’d planned to make her his.

But somehow, laying there spent and exhausted in the dark, Ettore felt like it was her who had branded him.

Taglist: @qyburnsghost , @babyblue711 Please comment if you’d like to be added to the taglist! :3

#Ettore #ettore x reader #Ewan Mitchell #high life #ettore smut #ettore x you #fics by me #Supermassive Black Hole

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lxmelle · 7 months ago

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The subconscious, the soul, and the body...

It’s an understatement to say that the links and concepts between these are complicated / complex within the jjk world.

I’m just going to write about what I understand so far, and if anyone else has theories or a deeper understanding of it, please drop me a comment or reblog with your own thoughts. I’m open to discourse!

The rest is just largely focused on Gojo and Geto - exploring how their subconscious, soul and body may have been affected by their relationship.

What was meant to be short has gone into theorising territory as I attempt to make sense of things. I am Satosugu / SuguSato indulgent.

(Ps: I don’t discriminate over who tops/bottoms or if they even do it at all. Soulmates don’t necessarily need to copulate as far as I'm concerned).

Be warned and afraid.

It’s a real whopper of an essay by the way. If that’s not your thing, please just skim or pass - or stay for the parts you want to read and do it in multiple sittings if it gets too much.

Can you imagine what it’s like living in my brain? Ha! It’s too much for me too, hence, the info dump.

Sharing here, as I think some people enjoy reading about them too.

NOT spoiler-free. More under the cut (o^^o)

In my brainrot, the cogs start turning and sometimes 2 becomes what looks like 4 and I just have to get it out - you know the drill. Word vomit. If you’ve clicked, welcome and I hope you enjoy your stay with my obsessive brainrot, tangents, love for Gojo and Geto.

A bit on the Soul, the Body, Sub/Consciousness, and Cursed Techniques - skip this part if it’s boring:

So, based on what we have been told, Mahito believes he can see the soul, and that the body & soul are separate. For humans, souls can linger after death but upon rebirth, curses and humans alike will not know one another nor will they retain memories.

“Lingering after death” might be relevant to “north and south” too, but we don’t know with certainty what the afterlife in jjk looks like. North seems to mean rebirth - to become “someone new” - that is assuming Mei Mei is right.

Being sealed in an object (like Sukuna) is different to being in another body (Kenjaku and Tengen), and being in a binding vow/curse also changes depending on the nature of the contract, and being reborn is largely different to the rest because it seems to denote that the soul resets its memories at the very least.

Worth noting that I’m not clear on whether the spirit is different to the soul as well. They could be synonymous to some degree, but I think a spirit has the essence of a soul (indicating consciousness), and I define something with a soul to be at least a creature (with a physical body) or entity (metaphorical form).

In Toji’s resurrection case, his body is so strong from Heavenly Restriction, that it overpowers the soul of the host - Toji thus kills granny. His soul information wasn’t brought back, but some information must’ve been carved into it for it to retain… something. This something included parts where his body recognised Megumi as someone significant enough and attacked itself. (One has to ask if this is a parallel with Geto in no less than fewer than 10 chapters earlier, where his hand moved - more on this later.) Based on this, the body is separate to the soul but information can be written into it. And like the soul, a body can also be brought back through cursed technique.

OR, another interpretation is like as Kenjaku hypothesised - the body and soul are one. And if granny’s cursed technique is just summoning information, and when the soul and body are very linked like in Toji’s case, they both manifest - as in the body is so strong it pulls his soul along with it. I’m speculating. It could equally be soul information carved into the body (I’m leaning more to this interpretation).

Where curse techniques are concerned… For Yaga, he can extract the soul from the body - insinuating they are also not one and the same. And it’s not just information because the soul exists within what becomes a special grade cursed object. Multiple souls in panda’s case.

And cursed techniques themselves seem to be bound to the body for some - as in Geto’s case where Kenjaku can utilise his as well as his own techniques (along with those of his previous vessels)... however, with Sukuna and his vessels? Soul. Yuta with his copy technique - these are existing without the body or soul as this is his curse technique I guess. Reincarnated sorcerers bring their skills along with their souls too. And domains are supposedly tied to the soul. Geto was not shown to have one (but jjk 0 was created at a time where domains never existed) and if he did, Kenjaku did not have access to to it, unless the theory that the Womb Profusion is real.

Yuji could meet with Megumi's soul buried deep in his own body shared with Sukuna, that was now sunken in due to the bath of evil and killing of his sister. He also has the ability to shake a person's soul through his punches. So the soul seems to be something that can reside within a vessel and be touched through powers / ability.

Gojo was shown to be able to “see” something akin to Megumi’s soul, but this wasn’t depicted for when he saw pseudoGeto, despite the light novel saying he was constantly “staring at the shape of his soul” as he flew off on his pelican spirit. His physicality (six eyes) all but confirmed it was Geto. It was his soul that said otherwise - and it was enough to refute his six eyes. And Kenjaku believes the body & soul are one and the same, thus, confirming Gojo’s six eyes.

Or maybe Gojo can’t quite see souls? We haven’t been explicitly told. Did he see souls everywhere in that case? A part of me suspects Gege retconned this “seeing of the soul” for his fight with Sukuna, but I might be wrong. We saw the same blurry image as a representation of the soul with his six eyes, but this theory doesn’t hold up when we consider how he met with Geto at the airport.

The afterlife scene in ch236 shows their souls / consciousness somewhere at an airport (it is not known if they are merely greeting Gojo or have been there awaiting his arrival). This shows us also that they are separate. The soul has gone somewhere: Cursed realm or an Afterlife are the possibilities presented to us... because they haven’t reincarnated. Going nowhere doesn’t seem likely in the jjk world as they talk incessantly about souls and how they can be resurrected in one form or another.

For the sorcerer Geto fought with his Shiba doggy in HI - it was a fantasy of sorts - and is similar to the space between “curse and reality” that Kenjaku talked about with Sasaki. So it could be a cursed realm. And then Gojo smirking when Sukuna was giving his after-battle “send off”… did that indicate the body and soul could be one & the same? Is the afterlife a fantasy? It was a death dream? (Ah, idk how I feel about this, but again, the jjk world believes in souls).

It is so confusing. I know Gege likes the whole “there is no ultimate truth” but making this topic “up to individual interpretation” is really mind-boggling.

But Mahito and Kenjaku end up agreeing that they must be different based on technique. Maybe this is Gege’s retcon lol. Like how he created limitless and then got some people with the knowledge of physics to explain it retroactively?

I guess the manga readers needed a bit more real-world explanation once it got traction, which is understandable. But equally, some things may just need to exist as they are in fiction and unexplainable based on earthly morals or boundaries by the laws of physics and biology as we understand it.

It is possible that it’s just all dependent on curse technique, which makes Yuta’s copy possible without the body, the creation of Sukuna fingers allowing the transcendence of skills and soul without the body, Kenjaku to access soul-information (like memories) without the brain (as well as utilise the cursed technique), and for exceptions to occur, like Megumi and Yuji both accommodating the soul of another entity in their body. How some entities (sorcerer and cursed spirit alike) can touch souls - or even for cursed spirits to take on more human-like existences - implying they, too, can evolve and become a soul. Like humans evolving to become sorcerers (if they can).

And with a technique like cursed spirit manipulation, once a human’s soul is unable to exist in its physical body, the person will die unless they are like tengen with a curse technique that allows its soul to be removed - as as its form weakens… what happens to the soul if a creature / entity / being becomes more spirit than a human, where someone like Geto / pseudoGeto / Kenjaku can absorb it? I suspect they are exorcised, and they live as Pokémon-like shikigami spirits that have no soul?

We know those like Naoya can become cursed spirits, and Rika’s soul can ascend into somewhere leaving a shikigami spirit behind, so this tells us there are various levels of existence and consciousness - like a hierarchy of sorts with the soul being the most pure / transcendent. It makes sense based on my Buddhist understanding too, but who knows what exists in the jjk world. I’m just trying to make sense of it all...

And of course as I write this, ch.257 just dropped and Kenjaku bloody managed to create Yuji in a completely different era after somehow accurately discovering the reincarnated soul of Sukuna’s twin that was absorbed by him in the womb?!? 🤯 Gets pregnant as Kaori and manages to birth Yuji who could have been by luck or by design, inherited his father’s old soul’s Cursed Technique? So since Cursed Technique can manifest despite completely different DNA, it’s possible for one to assume that the Cursed Technique may be bound to the soul rather than the body… or at least for Kenjaku’s technique, he can create it within the body. or the soul?

What. The. Actual. Heck. And what happened to papa Yuji?

My brain starts to go bananas.

So souls can be split into twins if the egg splits into two (Maki & Mai and Sukuna & his twin (reincarnated into papa Yuji), and can reincarnate. But are considered one. But one can reincarnate separately. 🤯

And on reincarnation: Was the previous six eyes & limitless user Gojo before reincarnation, and does that mean that there won’t be another six eyes + limitless user since Gojo chose to go South? Especially since only one can exist in the world at any given time. Did Mai's spirit join up with Maki, or did she reincarnate?

It would make sense if the series is leading us to a conclusion whereby there is a new world where sorcerers don't exist anymore and all these OP beings like Sukuna, Kenjaku, and skills like the six eyes and limitless, cursed spirit manipulation, cursed speech, or copy aren't being reincarnated in the jjk world as it is now - by choice of the users. If Gojo and others all decide to stay in wherever they wish in the afterlife (pockets of reality wherever they may be), then the human world and the sorcerer world and the cursed spirit world will all exist separately.

But I honestly don't know if that's a good ending. It wouldn't make for very good storytelling? And all it would take was for a soul to get bored and wish to be reincarnated. So too many loopholes.

I mean, I could go deeper into speculating, but I really just wanna focus on the impact on Gojo and Geto for now...

More within the Satosugu / Sugusato context. Read here for it, or skip if it’s boring:

It seems romantic for those who have enjoyed the meme... “would we know each other in another life?”

Especially if these two were made to be counterparts. Anyway, moving on to what we see in the jjk world.

Those who like this pairing probably know these scenes:

Take it how you will. It’s rather evocative and indicative of a strong bond. If you’ve read some of my other analyses, you’ll know I feel that in the jjk world: To love is to recognise / know the other, even if they presented themselves differently. To love is to long for them, and to yield - something - whether it is a power or a sacrifice, for another.

Love shapes and forms a reason. Meaning. Purpose. It does something to the subconscious. It affects and alters a person and their soul. And even without the subconscious or the soul, one’s body can react.

Some of this will be my personal interpretation but it remains canon that Gojo’s soul recognised it wasn’t Geto with Kenjaku inhabiting him. Gojo didn’t want to kill Geto but he did in the end partly because Geto wanted him to. Maybe a part of him always wanted Gojo to, which is why it/he was a curse only Gojo could bear - the responsibility to kill him was always Gojo’s.

Gojo always had Geto in the palm of his hand. Neither acted to tip the strange unspoken balance they had where no lines were crossed until Geto declared war. Geto didn’t want to pull Gojo into his broken-down world in an attempt to attack the roots of the problems in the curse-filled world. Gojo attempted to reform the jujutsu world for a long time whilst holding it up within the institution as he knew it, hoping to make room for Geto should he wish to be saved. Yeah we know he really didn’t want saving in that way... he was too busy trying to save the ones he deemed worthy by eradicating the sinners, evolve those with potential and annihilate the weak. If he was weak he deserved to be killed.

Both longed for the other but could never quite be honest with one another. I headcanon that the words, “if I could be you” were thought about more than once by each of them. That’s why Geto said it and tried to be strong, and Gojo wanted to reform the world through eduction. They swapped fortes because they lost the other on the paths they walked on. They needed each other but fate had a different plan.

They didn’t know how to bridge the gap that had formed between them until many years later. Ultimately, despite their differences, they shared the same ideals and were designed to be counterparts. There was always a space for the other in their hearts.

In those two scenes, I wondered for a while: what was Gege’s point of depicting Gojo switching back to “ore” (in reference to himself - a nuance that cannot be translated into English from its original context within the Japanese culture) for two brief moments. What does it imply about their connection? How do we understand the levels of their “counterpart-ness”? Soulmatism. Romanticism. Whatever you want to call it.

And even pseudoGeto’s body reacting to Gojo’s voice calling out to Suguru. Nothing much ever came from it, and the conversation Mahito and Kenjaku had about the soul hasn’t been expanded on since (to my knowledge). So what was Gege getting at? What are we meant to understand? Back then, it maybe served as an unresolved issue - that Geto may need to have been rescued if his soul was trapped. But now that we saw him at the airport... we can all collectively breathe a sigh of relief - unless it was just a death dream. Then we can collectively cry.

So let’s go back to their connection. We know that Gojo and Geto were practically bonded and changed by being each others’ “one and only”. However you interpret their love is up to you, but it is undeniable that there is something unique and irreplaceable shared between them.

It was Mimiko and Nanako who recollected that Gojo was Geto’s One and Only 「たった一人の親友」.

This is undeniably canon. Geto mustn’t have mentioned him only once, or at least they learned through observation, that Gojo was important to him despite having his cult family. It’s possible that Geto might not have seen the other cult leaders much, if they were operating from different places. So this precious space was never filled after they “argued”. Geto was probably lonely / alone too after becoming PapaGeto.

And as a parent: you love your kids but they aren’t replacements for your life partner / soulmate. The same can be said for Gojo and his students. Even after death, there is a placeholder for that person. Even between partners, some people are more significant than others.

I wanted to note that this happened after the Toji incident:

Geto is actually holding an eraser, and Shoko, the pencil. It appears switched in the anime. So maybe it is not as important as it could be: by that, I mean, if Geto chose an eraser because he doesn’t like the idea of harming Gojo. So this is my headcannon.

But I theorise that it’s possible. Geto doesn’t like harm to come to those he loves - like arguing. With his cult family, this was one of the philosophies they continued after his death. Geto interpreting the kfc breakup as an “argument” also speaks volumes, imho.

The eraser goes further than the pencil, probably because it is considered less dangerous than a pencil, which Gojo elaborates in the next panels.

We also know that Gojo knows Geto - the ins and outs. He knows what he smells like (residuals, scent or whatever you want to call it) and can predict what he might do based on how well he knows him. This is reciprocal as Geto, too, knows how Gojo thinks. Kenjaku of course exploits this.

It’s not too much of a stretch to think that Gojo has a tendency to let his guard down around Geto. Hence his switching to “ore” 「俺」 and his mask “of proper decorum and speaking politely” slips when he sees pseudoGeto (whom he thinks is Geto momentarily) and also Geto at the airport. He reverts to “boku” after that. (If you’re not already aware, Gojo used “ore” throughout the Hidden Inventory arc but changed to “boku” after Geto left - likely as a result of maturing and adopting his friend’s advice to be more polite.)

For context:

Gege himself says he sometimes switches to usage of “ore” when he is excited - taken from the hared interview with Tite Kubo in the jjk character book.

So it’s really not imagining things when we see Gojo depicted specifically to be reacting like this to Geto alone. It seems like Gege is showing us something about Gojo’s subconscious / psyche. They are largely authentic with each other. There is a cultural difference in Japan about context of the inner (honne) and outer voice (tatemae). “Ore” and “Boku” represent that for Gojo respectively, I gather.

Their friendship, the rupture (and the intermittent anguish over 10 years), and having to kill his best friend - are all precisely why he gets sealed. His subconscious seems to know that Geto wouldn’t hurt him. He also trusts that Geto’s subconscious wouldn’t hurt him either. He believed Geto wouldn’t kill young sorcerers - and true to form, this cost him his life.

So there is trust for the person’s mind, there is knowing/identifying of the soul, there is familiarity of the body…

Which is interesting because all that is there is the body. Geto’s subconscious isn’t there anymore with his brain not physically present in pseudoGeto/Kenjaku’s body - but then his arm reacts to Gojo.

It even continues reacting for some time. Look at those veins along his arm in the panel below:

This is significant in the reciprocal nature of Gojo and Geto - Gojo’s speech changed for a moment and he is hit with all the memories from 3 of the best years of his life - his “3 years of Aoi Haru”/3年の青い春 like being smacked with his own unlimited void. Geto’s body reacts involuntaril and tries to retaliate, (just like Toji did several chapters later to stop himself from hurting Megumi/ending his massacre).

They reached for each other, y’all 😭

Again my brain just goes places, and it made me wonder about the soul & body thing. I hope that Geto’s soul is really at the airport, but that there is information carved into the body (like his memories) - if they’re important enough to become instinctual.

It is also, by extension, then possible that... Kenjaku experiences something outside of just thoughts /memories when inside his host...

Just as we see here - yes he does need to keep an eye on the cube, but his expression / reaction to knowing that the girls’ presence are there... addressing them only after the curses have left, and what he says to them, as well as admitting he doesn’t remember what regret feels like -

…and cue an tighter shot of the prison realm (with Gojo’s eyes in the anime depiction) (and interestingly the back of the realm has stitches like Kenjaku’s forehead).

Gege likes to foreshadow and follow up with something significant. So similarly to the above where he sees the girls and acts like he doesn’t give a toss, but is depicted to seem contrary to what he says. Could it also be that it Gojo’s eyes staring that incited the involuntary movement, and the reemphasis of Kenjaku saying he was enjoying the view of seeing Gojo captured - a similar pattern? This old man is just a brain who forgot how to feel?

It begs the question for me: If there was something imprinted within the body that Gojo could call out, what was there?

It remains possible that Kenjaku was simply detached / in denial / ignoring any emotion that arose within from Geto’s body.

Arguably, it is possibly quite characteristic of Kenjaku who was a “mother” and had some motherly instincts remaining, or it could also be seen as an emergence of some sympathy or sadness for the girls that may have come from Geto’s body. I mean, he led Yuji’s friend (Sasaki) out of the culling games, acting like a parent / guardian...

Hmm…

We do not see a physical reaction to any children though; and I guess a situation like that (with the Hasaba girls) in comparison to one that may be filled with adrenaline like a trapped Gojo speaking in that low baritone to him, is inherently different. But regret though? Was it actually a knowing smirk Gege showed us of Kenjaku in front of the prison realm - as if to say he had bested Gojo and Geto? He got his way with the girls too, despite knowing Geto’s feelings?

Or did he simply not recognise it, and it was truly a first for Kenjaku because there normally isn’t something there, but with Geto’s body - something actually stirred / retaliated... because it was Gojo?

I mean, from a neutral perspective, it would seem like the author is shipping them, lol. But I’m not going to lie - we don’t get much honest feedback from Geto about Gojo, so nuggets like those are quite affirming that the connection felt between them was very mutual.

Because if we see how it all began, and note that all Geto wanted to do was to protect those who needed it (even if it was at his personal expense). First it was humans, then Gojo, then sorcerers and then his family too.

And this was born out of the fracture from being unable to be relied upon to kill Toji (avenge Gojo & Riko’s death) or to fight Toji with Gojo, since leaving him alone resulted in getting him killed - which he must’ve believed happened until the point he saw him alive again carrying Riko’s lifeless body...

His connection with Gojo was so strong that (as Gege described it) his body reacted like a dragonfly whose head has been cut off. Something imprinted so deeply in their friendship that it became instinctual - carved into the body - and may not be related to the mind (therefore my avoidance of using the term “subconscious” with pseudoGeto, as it would be Kenjaku’s consciousness).

Moreover, if we take Toji’s resurrection as an example, even in the absence of a soul, the body can still remember and react. In a Geto’s case, where there is a different mind controlling it, for the body is react as separate entity is rather remarkable. I guess by saying this, I’m postulating that I believe body & soul are separate - because, if I’m honest, I want to believe Geto’s soul is with Gojo post-chapter 236.

But. We know there are all of Geto’s memories within the body still after Kenjaku inhabit it. In the absence of the host’s brain. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, Gege - but here we are. And maybe. Emotions too. Or memories of them at the very least. Not that it matters to Kenjaku.

This greatly disturbs me. It’s a level of injustice that also feeds into why I have been avoiding doing metas in Gojo - because his suffering and level of unfairness thrust upon him for simply being “blessed” and resilient just … hurts so bad. I can’t face it just yet.

So what exactly made their connection so profound?

I theorise that Geto interpreted Gojo as wanting to fight alone. That he was in his best element doing so. Kenjaku says this about Gojo too, knowing Geto’s memories.

Short sidenote: Whilst it is true that his technique lends itself better to soloing, I wonder how they might’ve fought together had the Toji incident not occurred. How would they overcome Unlimited Void aside from being back/to-back? Could Geto obtain a curse of his own to swallow him up as protection? No doubt, as a team, Geto’s progression could’ve been exponentially increased due to the number and level of curses available to him with assistance from Gojo. And would Gojo be different and enjoy fighting together had it not occurred? I don’t know, but they do seem to have wanted a connection with one another.

He saw Shoko being asked for help with teleportation. Once upon a time, might it have been him? There was no longer any “we” that he could sense. He didn’t feel there was a use when he had “failed” in so many ways after the failure of the mission and also believing that Gojo died that day and he was unable to avenge him.

The conversation with Yuki all but reinforced his feelings of irrelevance and perceived waste of their sacrifice when tengen was allegedly stable again. Subsequent conversations with Haibara and Nanami seals his skewed belief that he wasn’t needed there. Nanami’s choice of words is very interesting in the original text, implying that “it’s enough for him (Gojo) alone, isn’t it?”. Ref post by @nanami-says who has a nice selection of pieces about translations.

Gojo alone could do it. He could train and ascend all without him; untainted and untethered. His downfall was that he didn’t speak to Gojo. Gojo alone was left out. I mean, just because it suited him doesn’t mean he should be left to do it all...

This is so sad.

He left his heart (Gojo) alone. He also left his own heart alone (never happy from the bottom of his heart). In his descent, he was busy rationalising everything else except getting sad that he felt he’d lost his best friend. Arguably, the most important thing, because it is the scariest things and the things that hurt the most often have the most power / potential to heal.

It is possible he was actively avoiding it. Because, if it was purely about chasing an ideal he could have been drawn to look obsessed with it. Instead he has a sorrowful “I love you so much imma break up with you” face.

Gojo could have been the strength he was seeking if he did indeed want to just eliminate all humans, but he didn’t seek that out because (I theorise) he didn’t want to be outwardly rejected by Gojo.

And thus, he left instead (ugh! you foolish brave coward!) after snapping, and Gojo was left alone to pick up the pieces all by himself in a place haunted with memories of them together.

Just bloody tragic.

And that’s why it was carved into their souls.

In the depths of despair that he was in, could it be that he believed Gojo was better off without him , and in wanting to cradle whatever pride he had left, he sought to build his own temple where he could live in the void of his own making without facing that he had lost everyday?

Gojo could be free to grow and grow and be the strongest and embrace whatever belief system he now held - whether it was borrowed from him or not.

He even goads Gojo into killing him off since there would be meaning to it.

Sigh. Heartbreaking. It wasn’t the best decision. But we know suffering builds character. At least Gege really likes this theme❤️‍🩹.

Why do I believe he yielded though?

Because caring for others comes second nature to Geto. How many times have we seen him make that forlorn face?

Even with the souvenir he requested from Haibara, in the original he phrases it in such a way he implies he isn’t even sure if he’ll see him. “Satoru too; I don’t know if he’ll have some, but I guess, something sweet?” But. He yields to his preference.

There is limited space in his heart, and all he can do is exclude some in order to vehemently love those he can (or deems worthy enough based on his moral system). He didn’t know any other way to exist. Monstrous love. I’m pretty sure someone wrote about it. If I can find it I’ll link it! I call it maternal rage, but it’s a similar concept.

If he had wished to leave without staining Gojo, the absence of a confession of his love at any point also makes sense - like Nanami, he chose his final words carefully - that he hated monkeys (why preface with “no matter what anyone says”) and in a roundabout way, that he djdnt have hate for anyone at the school (can’t he just say he was happiest in those few years?). He wasn’t happy in the world (you can just kill me).

When he saw and felt Gojo’s love - unwavered and unchanged, seeing him having blossomed into someone still so pure - effortlessly righteous, strong, and proud with his army of students who loved each other... did he dare feel absolved? Did he feel like it was worth his defection? Yielded to others? Unable to be selfish? As sad as he was for himself and that his family would be without him and his dream unrealised; Gojo turned out ok.

Suddenly it gave meaning to his perceived sacrifice. It parallels with Toji and seeing Megumi who wasn’t a zenin.

Ah, this makes me mad somehow, but if it helped him pass and have a good death, what can I say? We all need something different at the end of our lives. And it’s important in the Shinto perspective to have a death free of regret in order to live in the space between nowhere/rebirth and earth. I posted about this in another piece too.

And I think that’s also why it was all carved into his body - enough to react to Gojo calling out to him, “Suguru”, despite being inhabited by Kenjaku. And carved into his soul that’s why he waited in the afterlife for Gojo. To be the first to greet him. I want to believe the body and soul are separate. The subconscious may have acted as a bridge between the two, transferring information from the mind / soul into the body.

But of course as a reader we wished it could’ve been a kinder fate for them. But I guess sometimes people have to pay for their sins as well as the sins of others? Life isn’t fair after all…

And arguably, Gojo needed a way to truly sympathise with the weak and how else through loving and losing someone to shape a person’s soul? It was just rather Geto-shaped, as I elaborated on in my other post.

I highly suspect Gojo may have wanted something different - as being born the strongest, he was always going to be the strongest anyway. This came with a burden. Noblesse Oblige. Being the strongest was written into his entire being - mind, body, soul.

And I think this was something they had both respected. I doubt Geto ever thought of himself as a power equal to Gojo, but they had both valued their friendship. Geto was someone who saw Gojo for a person, before the strongest. That’s why when Mimiko and Nanako asked, he was considered thus “my best friend”, and not the latter. Gojo recognised that for what it was, and felt the tender words that showed Care. Consideration. Love.

Gojo may have wanted Geto to lean on him a little. To let himself take the fall. They both didn’t like burdening the other, and after Toji it might just magnified. He wasn’t the type to overthink his role, but wanting to be the strongest (seeing how far he can go) and taking on all the blame was one of the ways Gojo was extremely loving. It was just something he accepted.

I feel like Gojo wanted to be relied upon to do his part; be his best friend, someone he could still love and do the mental and emotional load for him, spoil him a little in return so he could just do his thing as the strongest and train. He needed his other half to help him to do the things he doesn’t like or isn’t good at doing.

I think that as they experienced their bafflingly complementary and reciprocal friendship … before he knew it, all these experiences and emotions shaped him so much that his soul made room for Geto - as the one person who represented fulfilment outside of being the strongest.

Never once did he think he’d lose Geto like he did. He never wanted to be at it alone. Like a lonely army tank whose comrades had left him on the battefield to fight it out on his own.

Ugh, it hurts so bad. He didn’t think Geto was slipping down. Maybe because it wasn’t something he could understand- even more so after the enlightenment incident where a chasm emerged between him and others. Maybe nobody was ever important enough for him to worry or miss if they left.

He nevertheless never deserved to be met with such loneliness and misfortune. He carried the weight of it all, all by himself. I know they both did in their own way, but there is some tragedy to Gojo where he probably wanted or could have had more to fill his life and soul but there was always a chasm or a void that could not be filled because he could not feel understood by anyone since Geto.

How awful it must feel to have to kill someone you treasure.

We have no idea without much insight into his life growing up. Nevertheless, Gojo consistently shielded those he cares about from self-blame even from the beginning where he must’ve known Geto had such inclinations to be stuck in his own head and he tried his best to absolve it and take it upon himself. The priorities of those he cared about became his, provided if he could do it. He protected the students and made light of situations so they could experience their youth. Something he can remember treasuring well into his adult life. His blue spring / best years of his life were deeply etched into his subconscious and soul. It was what he wanted to give his students and reason for reforming the jujutsu world.

But being shielded at that time wasn’t enough for Geto who was experiencing the worst spiral in his life yet. He needed to feel the weight of his responsibility had meaning and a role. In his trauma, grief and denial, he shatters and reaches a point from which he cannot return. He also knows how Gojo defines the weak - tiresome, “lower”, etc. and that could have been another factor that led to his avoidance of him.

I want to really emphasise how I don’t blame any of them. They are not inherently responsible for the other. Arguably, Gojo needed to learn about that pain in order to know what love is. And Geto needed to realise how flawed and unloving his path actually was.

If only they could’ve both had a compassionate mentor who guided them onto the Teacher AU path 😭

In the absence of such a connection etched into his soul, what might Gojo have become? Another Sukuna? I theorised that Geto helped Gojo connect with those “beneath” him in a recent post. I’m not going to repeat that here, but it makes a lot of sense to me that Gojo learned a lot about love through Geto and his own hard work following the numerous hardships he faced as the loneliest strongest of the modern era.

He faced so much in his short life. Being blessed with the six eyes and limitless was a curse in itself. He spent years paying the price for losing his friend, and even had to kill him. How profoundly tragic. He faced loneliness and criticism for finding joy in the only thing that he practically had: jujutsu (yes that kept him one-dimensional, but similar to MeiMei chasing money and several others pursuing strength alone) it was a hefty price to pay. But he was a sorcerer. After all, the only thing he really wanted was to treasure his blue spring and the person associated with it - Geto.

It is poetic that when Gojo died, his soul found its counterpart. He opened his eyes to the person whose presence had etched itself so deeply that he knew Geto in body, mind, soul. Geto was there to greet him with a heartfelt smile (and pout!).

One meeting him at the point of death, and the other, upon death.

Their exchange is really reciprocal here too, with Geto admitting he was envious and Gojo responding in a way where he implies reassurance akin to “I needed you there”. Link to a post on this:

Geto’s little tear in his eye in not one, but two panels as well.

Anyway… then appearing at the airport reminds me of their exchange many years ago “you’re late Suguru - no you’re early.” And “you’re late, Satoru.”

Well, they’re on time now... better not be late for your flight, kids.

And as Kenjaku said to Gojo before sealing him - 「新しい世界でまた会おう」

“let’s meet again in the new world.”

—————————

Sorry, it’s a whopper from me again.

Just some words in an attempt to close this off:

For someone whose emotions guided and drove his rationale, it was ironic how Geto’s body became a puppet for someone like Kenjaku, who was so cerebral (devoid of empathy) befitting of his curse technique to brain-hop. It fits with the jjk theme of being strong in the absence of love, I guess?

Seems fitting that Kenjaku was bested after slipping up when having that good of a time with Takaba. Ironic isn’t it? All those years scheming, only to lose himself for a moment as he indulged in something novel, and he lost to a scheme himself.

And to be killed by Gojo v3.0 (Yuta) who already defeated him once, also as foreshadowed by Gojo before being sealed, on the date he scheduled 24th November.

The parallels don’t end there either, where somehow mahito who stood beside Kenjaku was created to parallel Gojo in some way too (I haven’t quite pondered on this much yet, but I reckon there is something about the thrill in growing exponentially / fighting sense that they share - it might just be that alone or possibly also the juxtaposition of one being human and one a curse? Their reasons for seeking strength?

I dunno - i gather Yuji who also developed exponentially fast and as an anomaly himself may have similarities. And again, as ch 257 leaked, it makes sense and I look forward to finding out what’ll happen to them (seeing as Yuji is kind of sukuna’s son 🤯 if the jjk world considers twin souls to be one soul - papa Yuji is Sukuna’s twin after all) and also Megumi of course.

Just going to wrap up here now, and please feel free to link me up to a post that can enlighten me or drop a comment with any thoughts?

Sorry for a rambling post. I hope it made sense.

For real, real. Thanks for reading my brainrot ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

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zepskies · 5 hours ago

Text

“No. I’m asking you to come home.” You whisper because you knew that it was home, that no matter how many times Ben had said it in passing, the word home had changed into something wonderful. “I like the sound of that Petals.”

😭😭😭 I'm not crying, YOU'RE crying!! I'm sorry this reblog isn't as detailed as usual, but I'm just getting home/in recovery mode from my vacation. Just know that this whopper chapter was so wonderful to read -- both of them slowly, finally figuring out what they want and how they feel for one another. Especially Ben realizing he doesn't need Vought or Stan or the penthouse apartment. All he needs is someone who truly loves him for him, in a comfortable, cozy living space that feels like home. 💚

Chapter 15: I Don't Know What You Did To Me!

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

Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (IT'S TIME BABY!), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 22K (Hear Me Out... It's Wonderful)

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Denial, A little bit of self-deprecating thoughts, Jealousy, Anger, Rage, A WHOLE LOT OF SHOUTING, Stan Edgar Being A Jerk, Sexist comments, Illusions to Sex, Heavy Petting? Making Out (It's ABOUT time), Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

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

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: Alright, hear me out... I know this is a long one, but I got so excited and the sun was in my eyes, and I forgot where I parked my car and... well... I got tired of the cliffhangers. 😂 But seriously y'all I am SO excited 😉🥰

The apartment was cold and dark when you walked through the front door, but the plants called out to you, filling the silence of the early morning, rustling and turning towards you as you enter. The curtains on the windows in the living room were closed, but the sunlight that dripped beneath the fabric was sufficient to see that Ben wasn't there.

It had been exactly seven days since you'd walked out of this apartment with Ben beside you, arguing with him about finally letting you go to work, seven days since you'd killed your brother, and seven days since Ben had tried to call you and you hadn't answered.

You wished you had. The guilt stirred in the pit of your stomach from not picking up the phone and to remedy it, you'd tried to call Ben, but he hadn't picked up.

And before you could talk yourself out of it, you'd sent an awkward text with the one word that you could think to say:

"Hi."

I'm such an idiot.

You really didn't know what else to say, not after everything that had happened. Not to mention you didn't want to tell him how much you'd wanted him there with you, how you'd imagined him riding on the bus alongside you while the wooded forests quickly shifted into farmland. You didn't know how Ben would react to that, especially since you weren't sure how that seemed like a friend-thing and you still weren't sure why you wanted him with you when your entire life fell apart.

But Ben hadn't answered the text, and he hadn't tried to call you again, which only made you feel worse for not answering his call a week ago.

You had been expecting him to at least try to call one more time or text you, but he hadn't, and there was a gaping hole inside that continued to open wider and wider with each passing day that you didn't speak to him.

He's probably out on a date or something. Has more important things to do than listen to my soap opera or help me pick up the pieces of my life.

It did still feel like it was in pieces. Everything you knew had changed within the course of a few hours, but you were glad to have your grandmother with you.

You had stayed with her instead of going back to NYC, allowing her to cook for you and soothe you the best she could with cups of tea and the love that she'd always had in abundance for you. It was still a little weird to think of her as a supe, but it was getting easier to swallow, and it felt like you were seeing her for the first time.

Since you'd talked about her time as a supe, she'd been opening up more about the past and you loved hearing all her stories. It also was making you see Ben in a new light.

Your grandmother knew more about his childhood than Ben had ever mentioned to you. He never seemed to be forthcoming with any information about himself, but the things that she'd told you about his father and the way he treated Ben made your blood boil.

It made you want to raise his father from the dead just to put him back in the grave all over again.

Of course, knowing all of this now made you feel worse for not picking up his call. A part of you thought that it was odd that someone who was so concerned for you at the hospital after everything happened with Elijah had gone radio silent.

And it made a part of you worry about him. Yes, as your grandmother had put it, Ben was more indestructible than you were, but you couldn't deny the fact that you were worried about him.

But as much as the last seven days had been soothing, there were still some odd moments.

For example, you'd woken up earlier one morning and followed your nose into the kitchen where your grandmother was making breakfast only to hear her muttering "what a fucking idiot" under her breath. Weirder still was another time you'd come back from the bathroom only to hear her cursing while she aggressively knit something that looked like a sweater and heard her whisper "I'm going to kill him. Could I have been any clearer?"

You hadn't asked her what she meant, but you'd assumed she meant her next door neighbor Mr. Filbert who was about the same age as your grandmother and was the bane of her existence. Each day she would have a new complaint that made her march over there and yell at him about something.

Personally, you thought he liked it when she yelled at him. Not to mention every Christmas he always brought over a large bottle of Brandy, your grandmother's favorite, and she made a chess pie specifically for him at the annual Christmas party she threw.

Annie and you had been shipping them harder than the post office the week before Christmas for years, but nothing ever came of it. In fact, the two of you had a yearly bet to see if this was the year that Mr. Filbert would finally do something about it or if it would be your grandmother who stopped being so stubborn and blind to what was in front of her face.

You couldn't imagine being that way if you saw how much someone liked you or went out of their way to care for you.

But being at home for a week made you feel better.

Everything that happened was settling over you, the newfound strength of your powers, your connection to nature, and there was the other thing you'd noticed, but were afraid to think about.

The thing you realized after you stepped out of the creaky shower and looked at yourself in the mirror without being covered in dirt.

At first you thought it was a trick of the light, but turning your face this way and that had confirmed it. The small wrinkles on the top of your forehead had faded, your laugh lines weren't as pronounced, and even the few gray hairs that you'd had since you pushed yourself too hard in high school and your first, and only, year of college, were gone. You were visibly younger and the only thing that you could think of that changed it was how you felt when you absorbed the energy of the plants. You remembered how it felt to absorb their life force, to have the energy flooding through your body taking away your pain, and healing what was broken. It felt like the best kind of high there was, your body melding with the tangled vines and unfurling leaves, feeling connected to everything in that shop while it made you whole again.

Standing there and looking at yourself, but not yourself in the mirror was weird and a little overwhelming.

There was also a part of you that didn't want to become an creepy old lady who sang to glowing flowers in the middle of the woods in the dead of night.

Annie had noticed it the moment that she'd seen you, and the two of you had discussed it over a Alien movie marathon, what it would be like if you could take the life of plants to make yourself younger and if it meant that you could live longer.

You figured that it was as good as true.

But to get back in tune with your powers you had sat outside in the back garden meditating. It seemed to work. Sitting out in the warmth of the day, with the breeze wicking the sweat at the back of your neck, the grass brushing against your worn jeans, and the call of nature all around you, it made you feel at peace for the first time in a long time.

It was nice to have a few moments to yourself, but that also meant that the thought of what came next seemed to hover over you. You knew that you had a long way to go before you fully got in control of your powers again, but you also knew that you couldn't hide in Illinois forever.

It felt like you were running from everything that happened, and you knew the longer you stayed away the harder it would be to go back to NYC, face the aftermath of Darren's death, and see Ben.

Although, he hadn't showed up, Annie had. She came on the second day and spent the next four days with you the same way the two of you spent your weekends growing up: with nostalgic movies, junk food, pizza, and copious amounts of wine, while bundled under plush blankets and pillows on the living room floor.

But the more days that passed when you were in Illinois, the more you were aware that something was missing, and now standing in your apartment you felt the same way.

Why?

Bean comes shooting out of your open bedroom and down the hallway in a frenzy, practically knocking into your ankles in his haste to brush his dark gray coat against your legs. He purrs loudly to get your attention, and you drop to your knees to pet him, staring into his luminous orange eyes.

"Hey Bean, did you miss me?" You smile at your cat, rubbing along the curve of his back the way you know he likes before you work your fingers under his chin.

The creature, now named "Rex" was perched on your shoulder like a bird of prey watching Bean with curiosity. The name was chosen due to how it looked like a T-rex with longer forearms whenever it stood up on it's back legs, but not from ferocity. He was a bit of a cuddler, more so than Bean. You also thought that Ben would appreciate the name given how much grief he'd given you when you told him your cat's name.

Bean glances up and hisses at Rex, who curls into your neck as if he's afraid.

"Oh, so you’re fine ripping someone apart, but you draw the line at meeting your brother?” You smile reaching up to scratch along his neck.

Annie had been terrified of him at first. She’d heard from Butcher exactly what he had done to Darren and was wary that Rex could grow into a maneater at any moment.

But Rex didn't seem to have man eating tendencies, at least now he didn't.

And when it came to Annie you figured that she was angrier that she hadn't gotten a shot at Darren.

She's waited a hell of a long time.

Bean narrows his eyes and raises his paw to swat at Rex, the claws scraping off his smooth leaf-like coat and leaving behind no damage. Rex cowers further into your neck.

"Stop acting like a jealous, only child." You chide the cat. "I love both of you the same way. And you've got to get along."

Bean makes a low noise in the back of his throat but leans into your hand asking for more rubs.

You indulge him for another minute, before looking up down the dark hallway. "Ben?"

The name echoes through the apartment, but Ben doesn't appear in the hallway.

I wonder where he is. Maybe he's at Butcher's.

You had spoken to Butcher once, who'd assured you that he, Frenchie, MM, and Hughie were cleaning everything up and that there wasn't anything for you to worry about.

You trusted Butcher to handle it. The last thing you wanted was to be unable to walk down the street because everyone was running for their lives and screaming while hoping you didn't unleash Rex on Manhattan.

One of the vines on the opposing wall flicks the light switch on, bathing your living room in artificial light. You pause, your hand frozen on Bean's back as you look over the living room and kitchen.

The apartment is spotless. There are no empty bottles of scotch, no half smoked blunts in the ashtray on the coffee table, no empty pizza boxes stacked next to your couch, and no dirty clothes and socks strewn around the room. In fact, there aren't any clothes at all or shoes.

Everything that belongs to Ben that was once scattered over your small living room is gone, leaving the room almost uncomfortably bare.

Is he doing laundry?

You strain your ears to hear the tell-tale sound of the sink or the shower in the bathroom, but don't hear anything.

Maybe he cleaned up because I was gone?

It seems a little out in left field, but you reason to yourself that Ben had tried to clean up while you were gone, just like he did when you got back from the hospital two weeks ago.

But as you walk down the hallway towards your bedroom you notice that the hall closet when Ben keeps his other things is empty. Every article of clothing, every shoe, every sock, and the small box of personal items that Ben had never let you see into was completely gone.

Something inside your chest begins to crack, you're not sure what, but all you know is that it doesn't feel good. There's an odd foreboding feeling that sends alarm bells off in your head.

Did he leave?

The thought is like a punch in the gut and your chest tightens, making it difficult to breathe.

Why would he leave without telling me?

You pull your phone out of your back pocket and scroll through to find Ben's number. This time you don't hesitate to hit the call button.

Each time it rings you can feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper into something that you can't describe. You didn't understand why he left, and why he wasn't here when you got back.

Was it because I didn't pick up the phone when he called? Was it because he finally figured that I wasn't going to sleep with him and he decided to leave?

He doesn't answer, but this time you leave him a voicemail.

"Hey Ben, it's me. I just got back to the apartment and all your stuff is gone, which means either we got robbed or you got kidnapped by your evil brother." You laugh awkwardly. "But I'm back in town so you should call me and let me know if your stuff should be here or whatever-um-" You clear your throat trying to keep your voice from shaking a little. "Just call me back okay?"

When the final beep sounds whatever it was you were feeling was lodged deep into the back of your throat and this time, as you look out over the pristine living room and kitchen you allow yourself to notice just how empty it looks without Ben in it.

"Babe!" Annie calls waving her hand from where she sits at one of the artisanal wrought iron tables at Calamity Coffee Co to catch your attention.

The inside of the shop was identical to the last time the two of you were here. There's still a collection of best-selling author's to be lining the wooden bar along the front windows, still a much too happy barista who grins when you walk through the door, and still a group of people sitting on the plush velvet couch talking about absolutely nothing at all while sipping colorful coffee mugs

It was surreal, as if the past two weeks hadn't happened and you were the same person that you were then.

Annie had left about two days before you came back to the city after she got a phone call from someone at Vought demanding that she come back for some "big emergency."

You still had no idea what the "big emergency" was, but you figured that you were about to find out. Annie hadn't been able to send you more than a handful of errant texts in which you planned this coffee shop meet.

Truthfully you weren't sure that you could share any of her enthusiasm or her excitement over what the "big emergency" was. You were still swimming in whatever the feeling was at Ben's sudden disappearance and his radio silence.

You'd thought that the feeling would have passed and tried to think about all the positives about him not living in your apartment would be, but the list was shorter than you expected, and the negatives were mounting higher with every passing minute since you'd called him and left the awkward voicemail. It was odd, especially after how hard you'd fought for him to not live with you, and how hard you'd tried to convince him that he didn’t want to live with you, but the feeling was still there.

Maybe he didn't move out and maybe he's been kidnapped and taken back to Russia!

That thought was distressing, but you thought that if Ben had been kidnapped your apartment would have looked like a train ran through it. Not to mention there wouldn't have been fresh water or fresh food laid out for Bean, almost as if Ben had been back to feed him.

But if he had voluntarily left, you still didn't understand why he had. You racked your brain trying to come up with something, some reason why Ben wouldn't be there, some little detail that you missed in the week that led up to the big explosion that was Darren's death and the destruction of "Please Don't Die," but you couldn't remember anything.

If anything, Ben and you were getting along better than you had in the days that lead up to it. He had been more attentive, had taken care of you in his own way, had sat with you on the couch and watched his ridiculously cheesy old films and pouted whenever you laughed at the lines he had delivered in all seriousness.

And the only reason you could come up with was that Ben genuinely didn't care about living with you or being around you as much as you thought he did and that he was tired of pretending to be a nicer person.

So basically, you were back to square one and you were trying to shake off the feelings that had started to bloom whenever you spent time with him and Ben acted like someone who you could love, someone that you could see yourself with. The same feelings that you had fought to push down and ignore because you didn't want to feel that way about someone like him.

The rays of the mid-day sun stream through the large windows catching the glints of gold in Annie's hair. The steam from her latte swirls and tangles out from her cup, crawling across the table to where the iced latte she ordered for you sits. The condensation has already started to drip down the plastic outside to the white napkin beneath, smudging the purple script of the coffee shop's name printed on the paper.

"Hey." You smile and embrace your friend.

It was good to see her again, but she looked more tired than usual. Her makeup was smudged beneath her eyes and her hair wasn't tied up in her usual high ponytail, but instead was thrown over her shoulders and finger combed.

"I missed you." She sighs into your shoulder. "Work is killing me. Ashley is going to be my thirteenth reason I swear." Annie rolls her eyes.

The wilted wildflowers in the center of the table perk up in your presence without you focusing on them.

"I missed you too." You reach into the front pocket of your overalls and extract Rex, who is now about the size of a coke can, and who crawls across the table to say hi to Annie.

She gently scratches under his little chin the way she knows he likes. "You're not going to eat me are you?"

"He already ate-"

Annie's eyes widen. "Not Bean!"

"Are you crazy? Do you think that I'd let him eat Bean? No. He had some cat food. Surprisingly he likes it so I guess that's what I'm gonna feed him and-"

"What is that thing?" A barista asks as he passes Annie and your table on the way back to the counter, toting a large tray of dirty mugs.

"Oh it's a-" You clear your throat thinking of something to call Rex. "It's an Aconitum Napellus." You reply saying the only name that could come to mind and hoping that the barista didn't know the scientific name for wolfsbane.

"Wow I've heard about those I think!" The barista replies leaning towards where Rex is stretching out in the sunlight on the tabletop. "Aren't they super rare?"

"Yep." Annie nods her head, the picture of seriousness. "My friend saved him from a guy who was practically part beast." She shoots you a wink, understanding exactly what Aconitum Napellus is.

"Can I pet him?" The barista's hand is already halfway to Rex, but you reach Rex first and pull him to you.

Honestly, you didn’t think that Rex would bite his finger off, but you didn't want to take that chance.

"Um. No. He's kind of finicky about other people." You laugh awkwardly.

"Bummer." The barista shrugs and walks back to the counter.

"You really think that it's a good idea bringing Godzilla out like that?" Annie takes a sip from the steaming cup in front of her.

"I don't think he's vicious unless I tell him to be." You look down at where Rex is curling into your arms. He's grown maybe another inch or two, but not enough to attract unwanted attention.

"And are you going to tell him to be?"

"Now?"

"I need to know, just in case I have to start running for my life."

"I'll keep you posted, just try not to piss me off today." You snort reaching for the latte on top of the table. "So, what was the 'big emergency.'"

"Oh my fuck! You're not going to believe this!" Annie leans across the table. "But it's kinda a big secret so you can't tell anyone, at least until not after tonight."

"Why tonight?"

"Because tonight is the big official announcement/celebration." She braces her elbow on the table and extends her pinky. "Special pinky swear me."

"Special pinky swear? What are we ten?" You roll your eyes at her.

The special pinky swear was the secret handshake that Annie and you had come up with when you were eight after Annie got kissed by Matthew Colson in second grade behind the giant oak tree in the schoolyard. The "special pinky swear" was only used in moments of complete seriousness. The same handshake had seen juicy secrets the two of you had shared over the years with no one else. When Annie lost her virginity to Drummer Boy, when the two of you got high in Esther Masterson's family cornfield, when you stole a bright red thong on a dare from Victoria's Secret, and when Newton and you had sex for the first time in the backseat of his dad's pickup truck senior year at Look Out Point. All of these moments had involved the "special pinky swear," so for her to bring it up, meant that this was big.

You hesitate. You don’t know why, but there's an odd feeling tugging in the back of your mind, almost as if you know what she's going to say before she says it.

"Babe." Annie wiggles her pinky over the table and you take it.

"Okay, what is it?"

She's still leaning on the table towards you, her blonde hair falling forward over her shoulders, and her eyes bright with her secret. "Ben is joining The Seven."

You sit there for a moment, her words not quite comprehending in your mind. And when it does, you feel the same tightness in your chest when you realized that all of Ben's stuff wasn't in your apartment anymore. You forget how to breathe, how to act normal, because you didn’t understand why Ben would do that, not after everything that happened with Payback.

"What?" You choke out.

"Honestly, I'm kind of surprised that he didn't tell you since the two of you are so close." She tilts her head to the side as if examining you for a minute.

"But why? Everything with Payback was so fucked up and that means he'd have to be around Stan again and-" You couldn’t finish the sentence, it felt like you were running out of air, a vice clamping down on your throat, because if Ben was going back to The Seven it meant that you'd probably never see him again.

Before the possibility of him being kidnapped or all his stuff being stolen meant that you'd run into him at least at some point, but this no way. You never saw anyone on The Seven save for Annie and that was because she still ran ops with Butcher and she was your best friend, but Ben and you were… nothing.

And standing in your apartment with all his things gone made that almost chillingly true. You and Ben were nothing more than roommates, and now he’d made that very clear by not telling you that he was moving out and taking another job. Nothing about that was the friendship that you thought the two of you were achieving.

Maybe it's a good thing, because I was beginning to feel things for him that I didn't want to and now he's gone I don't have to worry about it.

The thought didn't make you feel any better. Something inside felt like it was shriveling up and dying, something that you didn't know had grown and bloomed within you the moment Ben moved in.

"I know!" Annie exclaims. "But Hughie told me that while we were gone, Ben stormed into the apartment and confronted Butcher, said that he 'didn't feel appreciated' and that he was 'sick of all the bullshit' and that he was 'fucking done.' Hughie said that Butcher was pissed, but Ben must've gone to talk to Stan because they're officially announcing Ben or rather Soldier Boy's glorious return to Vought as the leader of The Seven."

"Wow the leader that's-" You swallow, voice hollow. "That's good for him."

"More than good. They're throwing him one of those ridiculous over the top parties tonight to celebrate and re-introduce him to the press." Annie takes another sip of her coffee, practically shaking with the excitement over the news. "And holy fucking shit!"

"What?" You breathe. Suddenly the room is spinning and you're not sure that you're getting enough air to your brain. You feel like you've been punched in the gut and at the same time feel like everything inside of you is spilling out.

You couldn't understand any of it, couldn't understand why it felt like Ben had broken up with you or why it felt like your heart was breaking, not over Ben of all people.

Why? I don't love him or like him. He's my friend or… I thought we were becoming friends.

"Stan is literally just falling at his feet. He's been busing in these slutty looking women that all go up to Ben's apartment, and you have no idea what I can sometimes hear through the walls. Those women are so loud." Annie makes a disgusted face, and you could only imagine what she was hearing.

It was the reason why you hadn't let Ben bring women back to the apartment, because your walls were thin and you didn't want to be subject to hearing his live action porn shoots. You knew the exact kind of person that Ben was when he moved in with you, but the week you'd spent with him before you killed Darren was different. He was kinder, softer, more patient with you, and willing to help you. Not to mention overprotective because he didn't want you to leave the apartment or even lift a finger with your broken arm.

You think about how Ben hadn't been on a date that entire week, that he stayed at the apartment with you and how he didn't act like he saw the woman in the grocery store hitting on him. Your jaw tightens as you fight the urge to cry, not quite comprehending why you were feeling this way.

What did I expect? He's the same way he's always been. And maybe he really was pretending to be different around me so that I'd sleep with him. Ben is Ben he's…

You think about what your grandmother said to you, about Ben acting differently than the one she knew. How Ben cared for you at the apartment and in the hospital was so different than the person she'd been friends with in the 80's. But now you weren't sure.

I don't need him anyway. He was just my roommate and now I have the couch all to myself.

You think, but it doesn’t bring any comfort

Annie's eyes focus back on you. "Are you okay? You look a little pale."

"No actually I'm not feeling that great all of a sudden." It wasn't a lie, you felt like you were going to throw up with all the memories you had with Ben swirling around your head. You didn't understand why this was happening.

In the past Annie and you would have giggled and laughed about something like this, but you didn’t feel like laughing at all.

"Oh no. Was it the latte? I'll come with you-" She starts to get up, but you hold up one hand while using the other to put Rex into your front pocket again.

"No, it's okay. I've just got a headache, and I don't think I'm ready to be around so many people, after Darren, you know?" It was a lame excuse, but you knew that it was the only thing to say that would make Annie leave you alone. "I think I took it too fast or something."

"Oh. Okay." She looks at you sympathetically. "Well text me when you get home? I want to make sure that you're okay."

"I will. I love you Ann."

"Love you too babe."

You rush from the coffee shop, trying to put as much distance between everything Annie said and you, but it's still all there in your head making it spin.

Why did he just leave without saying anything? Why didn't he tell me that he was being offered a place on The Seven?

You think to yourself, gaze on the sidewalk as you go, following the cracks and the blackened lumps of gum that have been smooshed against the concrete.

And why the fuck do I care so much? It's his life, he can do whatever the fuck he wants to!

The flowers in the black circular bins outside the florist shop wither and die as you pass, spilling multicolored petals at your feet that you trample underfoot.

He never said that he wanted to be friends. It was me that said it at that ridiculous fundraiser. Me that told him countless times that I didn't want to sleep with him.

The trees that are planted sporadically along the sidewalk shed their leaves when you walk underneath.

And I don't want to sleep with him. I want a relationship, I want love, I don't want just a one-night stand with someone like Ben. I deserve more I-

The thoughts were the same ones that you told yourself whenever you felt yourself considering falling into bed with Ben. The ones that usually brought the memory of your parents dancing to "Gonna Sing You My Love Song" by candlelight in the kitchen when they looked at each other like there was no one else in the world. You wanted that kind of love so badly that you could feel it in your bones.

But this time when you think those thoughts, it's not your parents that appear, it's Ben and you sitting on the couch in your living room with him reading the newspaper and you reading a book.

Stop it. Ben doesn't want that. He's made it perfectly clear that he doesn't want a relationship. And I guess he doesn't want a friendship because he just up and left without telling me!

"Excuse me!" You hear a voice say followed by your name, but you ignore it, and continue down the sidewalk.

The tears were close to falling and you didn't fully understand what it was that you were feeling or why you were so upset about Ben leaving when it meant that you could get your apartment completely to yourself again.

"Excuse me!" The voice says again and this time someone grabs on to your left shoulder yanking you backward.

You'd only seen Ashley once.

The first time Annie invited you to Vought Tower to look at her ridiculous apartment, Ashley had made you sign an NDA before you did. What exactly she thought you’d see you weren’t sure. It wasn’t like you were as oblivious as everyone else to the way the heroes of The Seven acted when the cameras weren’t flashing.

But Ashley looks the same as she did the last time you saw her, thinning red hair, sharp black suit that's buttoned over her chest giving the illusion that she doesn't have anything on underneath, tacky necklaces, crimson lipstick, and just like last time, she's not looking at you. She's typing something furiously on her phone as if she couldn't be bothered to acknowledge your existence with her eyes.

You hated when people did that.

“Hi." Ashley says with false sweetness, drawing it out too long to be natural. "Can you get in the car please?” She asks, still not looking up from the phone in front of her and gesturing with her head towards a gigantic black SUV that idles on the curb. It's easily bigger than your grandmother's truck and has windows so dark you can't see into the backseat.

Probably something Vought gets custom done to hide what goes on with their fucking heroes.

“Why?” You ask.

Did she hear Annie tell me about Ben? Wow, she works fast, I’ll give her that.

Your gaze shifts to where your building is just a few steps down the sidewalk. You were thinking about ignoring her, and continuing to walk down the street, but a part of you was intrigued.

“I don’t have time for this, get in the car.” This time Ashley looks up from the phone with a forced smile.

It's the forced smile that makes you decide to keep walking. You were tired of people trying to manipulate you with false sweetness to get what they wanted.

“I heard you the first time. No.” You reply before turning to walk down the sidewalk.

She moves so fast that you'd think she was A-train, putting herself directly in your way.

Ashley lowers her voice to a whisper. You didn't know why she was doing that. "Look, if you don't get in the car it's my ass. And I'm not going to be fired because one of Soldier Boy's sluts is acting like a little bitch and refuses to get in the car."

One of Soldier Boy's sults? Soldier Boy’s SLUT?!

"I don't know where you're getting your information, but I am not one of his sluts." You spit.

"Well, the only people I've been picking up for him all damn week have been." Her mouth twitches up into a smirk. "So, the options are you either get in the fucking car or Javier is going to put you in the car." She gestures to the behemoth of a man sitting in the driver's seat of the SUV, who smirks at you.

"Oh, is he?"

"Yes."

All the emotions that you'd been feeling about Ben begin to reach a peak in your chest and something finally snaps. You didn't want to deal with any of this, all you wanted was to go home to your bed, and yet here Ashley was treating you like you were some weak-willed little girl who would do everything you were told. It's the same thing that Darren used to do with you, and like hell you were going to let anyone do that to you again.

"I’d love to see him try." Your eyes shift to bright green and the entire world begins to tremble. You could feel the trees that lined the streets turning to watch, the roots that pushed and tangled through new earth stirred beneath the streets and sidewalks, the flowers in the florist shop two doors down that had wilted and lost petals twist together and burst with new life before spilling out onto the sidewalks, and Rex who was sleeping soundlessly in the front pocket of your favorite overalls drops to the ground at your feet, snarling as he grows to the size of a microwave.

"Holy fuck!" Ashley shrieks and takes a step back from Rex who snaps his jaws at her feet. His pointed stick-like teeth now the length of a pencil, clicking together.

"You should be more careful who you threaten." You say, your voice lowering. The energy of nature around you was thrumming through your veins, electrified by your anger. "It might be the last thing you do."

Just as Rex takes another step towards Ashley, who is quickly running out of sidewalk, the backseat window rolls down, and you see Ben sitting there with an annoyed expression.

"Just get in the fucking car Petals." He says with a sigh.

Has he really been back there the whole time?

"Are you shitting me Ben? You’ve been in the backseat this whole time? Why didn’t you get out to ask me to get into the car yourself?" You shout, eyes still a bright green.

I guess that's why she was whispering, didn’t want Ben to hear her call me one of his "sluts."

The thought made a surprising wave of anger and frustration crash over you when you remembered what Annie had said about Vought busing in women for Ben. You didn’t understand why you were upset; you knew the kind of person he was, knew that was what he went on dates to do, but for some reason the thought of him having a non-stop orgy at Vought tower after he had taken care of you and acted like a completely different person made you livid. It made you think again that he had just been putting on a big show to trick you into sleeping with him.

"That’s what that bitch is for!" He gestures to Ashley who is practically cowering against the car while Rex snarls between the two of you, now the size of a post office box.

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. "I can’t do this with you. I’m going inside."

“Wait.”

“I don’t want to wait Ben.” You reach down and scoop up Rex who shrinks in your arms back to the size of the coke can before he hisses at Ashley one last time. She looked like she was going to faint, but you didn't feel guilty.

"Are you really going to make me get out of the fucking car? Ben shouts above the sound of traffic.

Honestly, you really didn't feel like talking to him, not when you weren't sure why you were upset with him.

All he did was move on with his life. Why do I care so much about that? He was going to move out eventually and I didn't want him to live with me anyway. He was crashing on my couch; it wasn't a permanent situation and-

The thought of your couch makes an odd feeling rise in your chest for a second as the memory of him and you picking it out at IKEA come floating back. Despite how much Ben annoyed you, you’d had fun with him at IKEA trying out the different couches and getting coffee. It always surprised you how you could enjoy spending time with him, even when he annoyed you without end. But you had enjoyed yourself. Just as you'd enjoyed yourself when the two of you watched tv on the couch and when he walked with you to the shop and picked you up at the end of the day.

“You don’t have to get out of the car. I’m going inside.” You turn and walk away from where the SUV is idling on the curb, weaving through the foot traffic.

I don't want to talk to him. I just want to go into my apartment and forget everything Annie told me and forget that Ben doesn't live with me anymore.

“For fucks sake.” You hear Ben grumble under his breath when you turn away, but you don't stop walking. "Petals!"

You can see the glass double doors and brick steps that lead up into your apartment building up ahead, but even with how fast you're walking Ben catches you easily.

"Wait." Ben moves to block your path just as Ashley had.

He looks different than the last time you saw him standing in the street asking you to let him make sure you were okay and asking you to let him take you home. And if you were acknowledging it, Ben looked better than you remembered.

He's still wearing the same jeans and t-shirt combo, except now you can see that they're made of nicer material, designer, and he's wearing a large golden Rolex on his left hand that you're sure someone at Vought bought for him. Ben's dark hair isn't falling into his face, it's a little shorter, more controlled. You liked it better the other way, but you weren't going to admit that to yourself.

Even his beard is trimmed, and you wonder if Ashley got him a stylist and a hair/makeup team to spruce him up before his big debut.

Oh yeah. The debut he's making after he moved out of our apartment and didn't tell me, and after he's been fucking whatever comes across his path all week.

The thought makes your jaw clench together.

That's the way Ben is! He's been going through women since he got back from Russia. That's not new!

You thought it to make yourself feel better, but you can still feel the tightening in your chest that you'd been feeling since Annie told you the "big news" and you realized that Ben moved out.

Then why does it kind of hurt?

"What?" You sigh.

"I want to talk to you."

"About what?"

"Can you get in the fucking car first?"

"No. I don't want to get in the fucking car, nor do I know why I need to get in the car!"

"Because I want to talk to you!"

"And we can't do that here?"

"No!"

You cross your arms over your chest and refuse to budge. You knew that it would only annoy Ben that you were being stubborn, his stubbornness also drove you to the point of insanity as did his taunts, so the two of you were at a stalemate and you refused to give in.

"Fine." He seethes. "I'm joining The Seven."

“I heard. Congratulations. You’re getting everything you want." You clip.

“Just about.” He mumbles under his breath so low that you don’t think you heard him right.

"I don't see why that involves me."

"If you'd shut up and fucking listen to me for a minute I'll tell you!" He snaps.

"Don't tell me to shut up Ben! Who fucking disappears without so much as a note? Who up and leaves without telling their frie-," You clear your throat to change the word. "Their roommate that they're moving out!?"

"You didn’t want me to live with you!”

"Maybe at the beginning but-" Your cheeks redden for a second and something flashes through his eyes that you've never seen. "I mean, it's not that bad. And after everything I thought that you'd still be here when I got back."

"Well if I recall, you left without telling me where the fuck you were going and didn't pick up my damn phone call!"

"I called you back! And I texted you! It's not like I was completely radio silent!" You stamp your foot in frustration. "And why are you going back to Vought? They got your team to stab you in the back and took your genetic material to make a psychotic freak!"

"Because Stan Edgar called me and he said he wanted me to be the new leader of The Seven!"

"Oh please, you believe that guy? He only looks out for himself. If you trust him again, he's gonna give you another one-way ticket back to Russia."

"He's not going to fucking-"

"Yes he is! And if you thought things through instead of jumping in feet first, maybe you wouldn’t land into a pile of shit! Now if you'll excuse me. I have to do some laundry, but whoopdie fucking do! It seems like all your dreams are coming true." You try to step around him, but Ben shifts his body to block you.

"Just fucking listen to me." He snaps, green eyes flashing in the sunlight.

"What? What do you have to tell me that's so important you had that red-headed bitch try to shove me in an SUV for?"

"They're throwing me a damn party tonight and I want you to come with me." Ben shouts back at you, eyes blazing in anger.

Your mouth drops open. It was the last thing that you were expecting him to say. If anything, you thought that he was going to try to get you to come with him to Vought to make a pass at you, not invite you to probably one of the most exclusive events of the entire year.

"What?"

Ben still looks angry but uncrosses his arms from his chest. "I want you to come with me to the party."

You clear your throat to dissipate the shock, your anger coming back. "Why me? Why not any of those other women that Stan's been bringing to the tower for you?" You snap. “They certainly seem to be more your type. Probably look a lot more impressive than I do on your arm."

You hadn't seen them, but you could only imagine what they all looked like. Ben's matches on tinder he often bragged about and had shown you photos as if he needed to prove how attractive they were to someone else. Of course, then you'd told him to just stuff it in a tube sock like everyone else rather than risk the venereal disease.

"What did I tell you about saying shit like that about yourself in front of me?" He looks angry again.

You think back to the day the two of you shopped for a couch at IKEA and Ben had yelled at you for making a self-deprecating joke about being "useless."

An odd look crosses Ben's face for a split second when he realizes what he said, before he smirks to hide it. "Are you jealous Petals?"

"No."

"Because you're acting like you are." He smirks wider. "Kinda sounds like you've been having Annie spy on me for you."

"I didn’t have her spy on you! She can hear everything that you're doing, and she told me because we got coffee today and she wanted to tell me your oh so wonderful news. That you’re the leader of the Seven and that means you have an endless parade of women willing to fuck you.”

"All women are willing to fuck me Petals."

"Not me."

Something flashes through his eyes that you can't place.

You chew on the inside of your cheek for a minute, before you sigh. "Ben, I don't think that I should-"

"I want you to come with me because none of them are supes and I want you to understand what being a supe is supposed to look like." He interrupts, but it doesn't sound convincing enough.

"I don't think any of that is real or how it's supposed to be!"

"How would you know anything about it? This is the Seven. The most powerful supe team in the world-"

"Just because it's the most popular doesn't mean that it's the most powerful. And I'm not sure I want to be a part of this. My grandmother told me what it was like for her and-"

"But you've never experienced it!"

"Well, no."

"Exactly. So just come with me tonight."

"I don't know Ben. I'm not sure that I'm up for being around that many people after everything, you know? I-" You swallow. All the feelings of frustration, confusion, and anger were slowly dissipating, and it was leaving behind something you didn't want to think about. "I stayed in Illinois because I needed a few days to get away from all of this and I don’t think that I can rush into it all over again the day I get back." You could feel the memories of the day you killed Darren beginning to come surging back, followed by the realization of how out of control your powers could get.

Not to mention that standing here and looking at Ben was making the tightness in your chest worse.

Then Ben does something he never has, he reaches out and takes your hand. “Come on Petals, just one night.”

He was saying Petals in the soft way he had two weeks ago when he had been taking care of you after the hospital, and it made warmth pool in the pit of your stomach.

"But-"

"And I won't leave you alone at the party with any of those boring fucks. Or with that octopus fucker.” He interrupts, trying to convince you.

"One night?"

"Yes."

Your eyes drop to where he's holding your hand gently between the two of you. It was odd for him, especially because he'd never done that before, even when you had nightmares, Ben never held your hand like this. It was always an awkward cradle, but for him to fully entwine his fingertips with yours it between the two of you was shocking. You raise your gaze to his unblinking green eyes. "Do you promise?" You whisper.

"Yes. I promise, one night and if you hate it, I'll take you back to your shitty apartment building." Ben smiles as if it's a joke, but it stings a little bit.

It was the first time that Ben had ever referred to the apartment as just "yours." You'd gotten so accustomed to him calling it "our apartment" and to hear it that way made your chest tighten more. Maybe it was because it was settling in that Ben wasn't coming back, that he wasn't going to move back in or be a part of your life anymore.

"Okay. One night." You nod and let Ben lead you back to the car holding on to your hand.

Why is he doing this if he's been fucking his way through New York's female population this week? Why does he care so much that I be the one to go with him to this ridiculous party? Any one of those women would be ecstatic to go. And why is he holding my hand?

"Talk to her like that again and I’ll make sure that the next job you have is cleaning Stan Edgar’s fucking balls.” He growls to Ashley as he opens the door of the SUV for you.

And as you slide into the plush leather seats in the backseat, you begin to wonder exactly why Ben was so adamant about you "experiencing" what it was like to be a supe.

"So, what do you think?" Ben's voice echoes through the large living room/sitting room, vibrating against the floor to ceiling glass walls that stand at the back of the room and give a spectacular view of New York City that lays below Vought Tower.

From up here the rest of the world looks so small and out of focus, and you wonder if that's why so many supes lose their morals, because they're worshiped and put in places like this to look down on the people below.

Treat them like gods and that's what they'll think they are.

Annie's apartment at the tower was impressive, but Ben's is practically another planet. The entire place is filled with mid-century modern furniture, supple leather couches so soft it feels like you're sliding through butter, beautifully crafted wooden credenzas, and modern art pieces that you'd only ever seen prints of online.

The high lofted ceilings are so tall that you're sure the first three floors of your apartment building could fit inside, and there's an odd echo that follows everything Ben and you say. There is a tv so large it might as well be a billboard that sits on top of a wooden credenza and holds a speaker system that must be more expensive that a yearly car payment. It looks so intricate that you're afraid to touch it, let alone breathe next to it. The entire room screams wealth and not one piece of it is homey. It feels like a museum, as if someone tried to create something that felt like a home, but it turned into a time capsule of a time everyone else forgot.

You wondered if Ben ever felt that way and that way why he was really joining The Seven. If it wasn't just because Stan Edgar called, but because Ben felt like the world had forgotten who he was and he needed to prove it to everyone.

If that were true, you didn’t like that he thought that way. Yes, Ben annoyed you, but you liked who he was when he was with you. He never seemed like an old fossil that someone decided to shove into a box at the back of the Smithsonian, you liked the way he was, didn't think that he needed to prove himself to anyone.

Ben is standing behind you, leaning against one of the dark wood walls with a smile. You didn't know why he cared so much about your opinion of where he lived, not if you were just coming here for the party and then going back home to your apartment.

Your mind stutters on the word "home," because it hadn't felt like home when you got there, and Ben wasn't there. You didn’t want to admit that to yourself, but you knew it was true.

"It’s big." You say half-heartedly.

The apartment only made you think that Ben wasn't going to be living with you, a concept that you were confused as to why you were still saddened by, especially now that he'd had ample time to say goodbye. Before you’d been angry that he’d left without a note, but now you felt like you should be okay with what was happening.

You weren’t.

"Mhmm. Like it should be. Oh, you should have seen the good old days Petals. All the apartments, the hotel rooms, the houses they rented for us were like this. Not to mention everyone doing whatever the fuck you asked without hesitation, bringing me exactly what I wanted without argument. Fuck it takes me back." Ben sighs at the memory. "That’s how it’s supposed to be when you’re a supe. Not all of this squatting in small apartments and taking 500 jobs because you can't make enough money."

"I kind of like my 500 jobs." You say. "I've learned how to do a lot of things, and most of them are kind of fun-"

"Come on Petals." Ben rolls off the wall to get closer to you. "You're a bad liar and you know it."

"Fine. I don't like all of them, but I really like working at the senior center and at the plant shop-“

As soon as the words come out of your mouth, you're reminded of exactly why you're not working in the shop anymore and everything that happened with Darren. You hadn't called Jake yet or texted him. Again, you didn’t know what to say.

Honestly, you didn't even know if he was alive and the thought that you'd killed your friend hurt you.

"He's okay." Ben murmurs quietly anticipating what you’re thinking. "Saw someone helping him from the rubble before I got out of there."

"Good. I was worried that I-." You let out a breath and shake your head feeling relief stir in the pit of your stomach. “I didn’t mean to lost control like that and I-“

“You don’t have to apologize for anything. That asshole deserved it.” You can hear the anger begin to drip into Ben’s voice.

“I know.” You look around the room again at the fancy furniture and high ceilings to distract yourself. "This apartment is definitely big enough to manspread in. But it seems kind of empty though for one person."

"What?"

"I just mean- all this space.” You gesture to the vaulted ceilings. “What person needs this much space? At least in my one bedroom it’s a bit cozier.”

“You don’t like it?” For a second you think that he looks disappointed, but you think you imagined it.

“Nope. Not really my style.” You walk through the large living room exploring the apartment with Ben following behind you.

And you miss the way his shoulders slump just a little and the frown that pulls at the end of his mouth.

The bedroom is bigger than your whole apartment, with a giant four poster bed made of dark wood swaddled in gold and black bedding. The floors are made of black marble and there’s a giant fireplace that is so wide that a city bus could drive through no problem. The view out the floor to ceiling windows is even more breathtaking than the one in the living room.

“What no bearskin rug?” You snort at your joke, but for some reason it doesn’t make you smile.

All you're aware of is how weird this is, that Ben wanted you to come here and show you the way you "should" be living as a supe, and weirder still it was almost as if he wanted you to like his apartment.

Since when does Ben care what I think?

“Do you want a bearskin rug?” Ben asks, not sensing your sarcasm. "Because I can tell that bitch to bring one in here."

“No I was just-“ You sigh, but stop talking when you notice something green on the bedside table.

There’s a small pothos plant sitting there, it’s vines dangling over the sides of the table towards the floor a shock of green in an otherwise black and gold room. Ben didn’t like plants as much as you did. You knew that.

“Why do you have a plant?”

“It’s-“ He pauses as if embarrassed. “For you.”

“But you didn’t know I was coming?” You look over your shoulder. “And I told you that I was only staying one night.”

“I know.” Ben shrugs. “I got it earlier just in case.”

“In case?”

“You decided that you wanted to be a part of The Seven, or I don’t fucking know, just live here at Vought Tower.” He sounds angry, but you don't let it get to you.

“Well if I wanted to be a part of The Seven wouldn’t I get my own apartment? And if I stayed here, where would I sleep Ben? There’s only one bed.”

He bought me a plant? Did he think that I was going to sleep in here with him? Did he think that I was going to sleep with him?

“I mean we’ve shared before and you didn’t seem opposed to it.” He smirks, but when he notices that you don’t smile, he frowns. “I can sleep on the couch. It’s almost as comfy as the one we picked out.”

“Oh.”

“And actually if you want I can have them bring that one here too-“

The thought of the couch the two of you had fitting in with any of these outrageous displays of wealth was laughable, but again it confused you, because Ben was acting like he wanted you to move out of your apartment and into this one with him. Which, given how you heard he spent his week seemed ridiculous.

This is so weird. I have no idea what’s going on.

"So, um-" Ben clears his throat awkwardly. "How are you?"

"What?" You turn around to look away from the bedroom that looks a little bit like it belongs in a supervillain's penthouse apartment.

"Well, I mean-" He clears his throat again. Ben looks like it's difficult for him to say what he's about to, as if it's difficult for him to carry on a normal conversation. "Diana said that you were having a hard time."

"You talked to my grandmother?"

"Once. Before Stan called."

"Oh." You bite your lip. "I mean finding out that my brother killed my parents and tried to kill me wasn't exactly a walk in the park. But-" You shrug. "I'm dealing with it."

Ben nods as if he's unsure what to say. You noticed that when conversations got a little too personal Ben looked out of his element and you supposed that was what was happening right now. Sometimes it made you feel bad for him, as if he didn’t know how to act in a normal situation.

"Do I look different to you?" You blurt to clear out some of the awkward tension.

"What?"

"I mean, do I look younger? I thought that I was imagining things, but Annie pointed it out and I-"

"A little." He swallows.

"Great." You sigh.

"You don't want to look young?" Ben chuckles to himself. "Petals I swear every time you open that perfect mouth of yours you say the most outrageous shit I've ever heard."

"No, I mean I-" You wave your hand as if looking for the right words. "I guess I can make myself younger, but I don't think that I want to."

"Why not?"

"I mean if you live forever or longer than the average person you see everyone you love die. That doesn't exactly seem healthy."

"Not if the people you love don't die either." Ben says it quietly, almost to himself.

You snort. “My grandmother doesn’t live extra years, neither does Annie.” You hesitate to think of something that you never asked Ben. “Did you ever think about that?”

“Think about what?"

“When you and Countess were together. Didn’t you ever think about what would happen when she aged and you were well, you?”

Ben hesitates as if considering something. “Not really.”

“Why not?"

"You're full of questions today, Petals."

"And you're full of cryptic answers." You reply. "Come on Ben, you didn't think about that? I think that if I was with someone who didn't age that I would-"

"Someone like Jake you mean." Ben is frowning again, just as he always does whenever you bring him up.

"Why are you always so focused on him?"

"I'm not. Why are you so focused on Countess?"

"Stop answering my questions with a question!"

"I'm not!"

"You don't really have to worry about Jake. I think I blew my chances with him the minute that I destroyed his plant shop." You frown, reaching to touch the pothos plant that sits on the bedside table to get it to perk up.

Ben stands there for a minute watching you. "He's a fucking idiot if he lets that stand in the way of being with you."

Shock hits you like a bolt of lightning, and you turn to look at Ben, who suddenly looks very uncomfortable, as if he didn't mean to say that.

"Thanks."

He shrugs.

"And I think Countess was a fucking idiot and a Bitch for stabbing you in the back and making you love her."

"Thanks."

You shrug.

The odd silence is back, floating in the air between the two of you, something that you've never noticed before. You're not sure where it came from or what it's supposed to represent, but you wonder if Ben can feel it too.

“I-um- I’m sorry that I didn’t pick up the phone when you called. I didn’t know what to say.” You begin quietly. You wanted him to know that you had thought about picking it up, that you did want to talk to him.

“You don’t have to apologize for that Petals.”

“No I want to. And I’m sorry that I left you in the street like that. I should have stayed. I wanted-“ You stop talking, considering what you’re about to admit. “I wanted to stay with you.”

It seemed stupid to admit that out loud especially after you’d heard from Annie exactly what Ben had been doing all week, but you were so confused. You didn’t understand what you were feeling, didn’t understand why Ben asked you to come here, didn’t understand why he bought you a plant if you were only staying here for the party, and didn’t understand why you were so upset at the thought of going back home to your empty apartment.

Ben was confusing you again. He was being sweet and asking you how you were and he held your hand and he was genuinely asking you what you thought about the apartment and he bought you a plant to make you feel more at home. Not to mention he was acting as if the past week hadn’t happened, and it was still just the two of you back in your apartment.

And you could feel a cold chill of fear squishing your stomach into mush. You didn’t know what the fear was. Maybe it was because you were slowly realizing just how much you wanted Ben to be the man that he embraced when it was only the two of you. Maybe it was because you were realizing how much you liked being around him. Maybe it was because you were still cursing yourself because you didn’t want to fall for the wrong man. Or maybe it was because when Ben did things like this it was difficult for you to think that he was the wrong man.

He doesn’t want a relationship.

The thought doesn’t hold as much weight as it once did.

Ben’s hand gently touches the small of your back, turning you to look at him and making the thoughts evaporate. His green eyes search your face before he responds. “I wanted to come see you, but I thought you’d want to be left alone.”

“Why?”

“You didn’t want me to touch you in the street or check if you were okay and I wasn’t sure that I should-“ He clenches his jaw as if it’s difficult for him to admit this. “I didn’t think you wanted me there.”

“I did.” You whisper before you can stop yourself and his eyes widen in surprise. “Annie came to see me, but I wanted you. I-“

Ben gently traces your cheek with his rough fingertips, something warming in his gaze. The air between you is charging with electricity and you see his eyes dip to look at your mouth, before raising to your eyes once more. You know what he's silently asking you, and you want him to kiss you.

The memory of the two of you pressed against one another on your couch after the night Darren stayed in your apartment surfaces, the ghost of how it felt to be pressed against his body with your hands planted against the warm ridges of his muscles. You inhale a soft breath and it's full of Ben, enticing you forward, begging you to close the distance between the two of you.

Ben's thumb falls to the pillow of your lips, and they part in anticipation. Your body subconsciously moving closer to him so that your hands are resting against the soft fabric of his dark t-shirt. You can feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric soaking into the palms of your hands, a comfort in the chill of the marble covered room.

"I should have been there." He whispers. "But I-" Ben swallows, his voice no more than a murmur over the dull buzz of electricity that runs through the apartment.

The afternoon sun that shines through the glass windows behind you illuminates the flecks of gold in his eyes, making them a piercing green, and giving the illusion that they can see through you. Sometimes you thought that Ben noticed more about you than he was letting on, just as you noticed things about him that you were sure he tried to hide.

"It's okay." You murmur, leaning towards him, and letting your hands slowly move up the expanse of his chest.

“Sorry to interrupt.” A calm voice says from behind where Ben and you are standing.

The man standing in the doorway you'd, never seen in person, only on TV, but Stan Edgar is just as intimidating as he looks on the news. He's wearing a black pinstriped suit, a light blue shirt and a black tie. Not a piece of his outfit is out of shape. He looks calm and collected, not the frazzled out of control chaos that is Ashley when interacting with Ben.

And you hated him.

This was the man that had told Ben's team to stab him in the back and gave him to the Russians, and the man who gave Vogelbaum the okay to take Ben's genetic material and create Homelander. If Ben hadn't accepted the job with Stan, you probably would have ripped him to shreds.

Rex turns back from looking out the window and begins to skulk towards where Stan is, his beady black eyes narrowed up at the man. Stan looks down at the creature, who is about the size of a toaster now, in distaste.

“You don’t fucking knock?” Ben spits, turning around to face him, your hands falling from his chest.

“I did. I also called but you didn’t pick up your phone.” Stan says, undisturbed by Ben’s obvious anger. “Is she the new one that you made Ashley pick up?”

The new one?

His words settle in the pit of your stomach like an anchor making you remember exactly how Ben had spent his first week here at Vought. It made whatever the hell you'd just been feeling dissipate.

“Ashley was right, she certainly seems different than the others you’ve brought here. At least she’s wearing more clothes-“ Stan purses his lips looking you up and down. “Are you sure that you want her with you tonight? It is a big debut and-“

Stan was talking as if you weren’t there, as if what he was saying wasn’t insulting.

“What the fuck do you want?” Ben interrupts in a growl.

“We need to talk about how tonight is going to go. Not to mention Ashley has been waiting outside the door trying to muscle up the courage to knock so she can dress your date.”

“I can dress myself.” You say.

“Not for this.” Stan presses his lips together in a tight line, again looking you up and down as if you're a stain on his perfect suit.

Ben’s anger burns hot in the air, and you’re not sure if it’s because Stan interrupted the two of you or if it’s because he insulted you or if it’s because Stan just reminded you that you’re not special to Ben.

Because I’m not. No one who goes through women like that cares about them. What was I thinking? Ben’s probably using all of this in his grand plan of trying to sleep with me.

“Fine. Give me a minute and I’ll meet you outside.” Ben replies through gritted teeth..

“Don’t keep me waiting.” Stan gives you one more disappointed glance before he walks out the bedroom door.

Ben sighs as he turns back to you. “I-“

“It’s okay just go.” You take a step back from him. It was easier to clear your head when you couldn’t smell his shampoo or feel how wonderfully warm he is. “I’ll see you tonight. I guess.”

Ben hesitates as if there’s something he wants to say, but finally he sighs. “I’ll come pick you up. I think they're gonna fucking dress me somewhere else”

“Okay.” You nod once.

And as he walks out another uncomfortable thought begins to squeeze at your insides

What if this is Ben’s big move? Showing a woman a fancy apartment with a sprawling view of the city while inviting them to an exclusive party and acting like a completely different person, just to finally get me to sleep with him?

The flashing of the cameras and loud voices of the reporters shouting question after question made you dizzy. The brilliant lights blinding you as flash after flash barraged your senses from all sides. The lights were uncomfortably warm and the cameras that pointed at you made you feel like you were under a microscope.

It had taken an entire make up team and the four hours before the event to make sure that you were ready, with Ashley barking orders over the mad scramble of hands that touched every part of your body with no sense of shame. They had forced you to take a shower, and scrubbed your body so hard that you were sure there were skin cells missing, before yanking you out from under the warm water to dry you and tug and pull your hair in all different directions, trying to figure out exactly how you should have it done.

Whenever you tried to protest, someone would tell you how "fucking hot" you looked or how "sexy" you were. It didn’t make you feel any better and all you could think about was you hoped Ben was being subjected to such torture in another room of the Tower somewhere.

The team had rubbed you in creams from plastic containers and shiny body scrub so that you glittered under the lights and then slathered your face with more make up than you'd ever worn in your entire life. You felt like a doll being abused by a four-year-old who got her hands on a new make-up kit on Christmas morning.

When you'd finally thought it was over, Ashley had brought over a velvet box that held a diamond and emerald pendant that was bigger than the size of your thumb and made you feel sick to your stomach to think about how many groceries you could buy with the money it cost. When she tried to put it on you, you'd waved your hand and said that you didn't want it, but then she'd said that "Soldier Boy bought it especially for you and she'd be damned if she got killed over a fucking necklace." The drop emerald and diamond earrings that matched could have easily bought your grandmother's house in Illinois, but Ashley again refused to listen to your protests.

You didn't know why he'd bought you something so extravagant, especially if you were only going to be there for one night. The memory of what Stan called you followed the entire dressing process: “the new one.”

All it did was remind you that Ben didn’t want a relationship, and it was stupid to consider anything else despite how gentle he had been acting moments before Stan showed up.

The dress that Ashley had shoved you into was the same dark green of Ben’s supe suit, but made of a shimmery fabric that caught in the light. It was surprisingly close to the same style of the red one you wore to infiltrate the fundraiser weeks ago.

It hugged your body, clinging to the natural dips and curves, accentuating them and leaving nothing to the imagination. It was completely backless, held together by thin criss-crossing dark green fabric straps across the back that were so fragile you thought that any moment they would break. The front of the dress was plain and strapless, arching over the top of your breasts and cinched at the waist so tight you’re not sure how you’re breathing.

And it wasn't you, none of it was. The dress, the expensive jewelry, the party- it made you feel like you were five years old again and playing dress up with Annie in your grandmother's attic.

In the past whenever Annie did your makeup for you, at least she made you look like you, but after one look in the mirror, you didn't see you.

You wondered if this was what Ben wanted women to look like, so far from how they naturally looked, almost as if they were a shadow of themselves and plastered to be a perfect version of what an "ideal woman" should be.

But there was one piece of this outfit that seemed like you. There was a gardenia corsage on your right wrist, something that Ben had given you when you met up privately before your big entrance on the red carpet.

It had made you smile, something old fashioned he'd thought of and yet he knew you would like it because he knew that you loved gardenias. You were flattered that he'd remembered. He'd looked a little uncomfortable when he gave it to you, the same way that he always looked a little uncomfortable when things got a bit too personal, but he'd grunted out a "you like it?" and you couldn't help but smile up at him and nod, because you did.

And it seemed to tear you apart inside, because you wished you knew why Ben was doing all of this for you, why it was so imperative for you to see what this kind of life was like.

"Soldier Boy, is it true that you were overseas for 40 years?" A reporter screams from the sidelines into a microphone.

"Soldier Boy, who is she? Is she your new girlfriend? What's your name honey?" Another screams at you, but you don't answer.

"Are you a supe?"

"Show us your powers honey!"

It felt like you were on display and your words were caught in the back of your throat. Ben was next to you smiling and waving his hand, the epitome of cool, but you knew that you didn't look it. Your smile felt tight, and you were sure that the make-up plastered on your face was moments away from melting off your face.

His hair was slicked back in a very un-Ben way, his tailored suit was a dark green, so dark that it almost looked black except in the flashes of the camera, and he was wearing a black tie that shimmered whenever he turned.

You didn't think that Ben looked like Ben either, and something tightened around your throat when you looked at him, because all you could think was that this was the Ben he was becoming again to re-emerge into the public, the Ben you'd seen clips of in music videos, pictures, and old movies that donned the Soldier Boy uniform.

A little piece of your heart broke to see him like that, so different than the Ben who had gone to IKEA with you, the Ben who had checked on you when you had a nightmare, and the Ben who had slept in the hospital to make sure that you were okay.

And now that he was coming back to all of this, you thought that it meant you were losing him, and it hurt more than you'd realized.

The spotlights were blazing hot, your stilettoed black sandals were stuck in the red carpet, and you could feel the prickle of anxiety in the center of your chest crackling to life and spreading through the rest of your body. The urge to run was settling on your limbs, your body tenses, preparing to bolt-

Ben's arm comes around your waist and he pulls you against his chest, still smiling at the reporters, his hand now resting on the small of your back, and your hand goes to the front of his suit to steady yourself. He brushes his lips against your ear.

"It's okay Petals, I'm right here." He whispers, but you catch it.

His touch calms you, grounds you to the moment, and for a second the smile you have is genuine when the cameras continue to flash, your heart rate slowing with the warmth of his hand against your back.

"Thank you! That's enough photos." Ben flashes a winning smile and leads you past the paparazzi and into where the party is. He rolls his eyes with a sigh. "Fucking vultures."

You don't answer, instead you look around at all the other elegantly dressed people at the party, supes and non supes, and waiters who weave through the crowds with trays of food. You hadn't eaten anything all day, the only thing you'd had was a few sips of that latte, but you weren’t hungry

You felt so out of your element, so completely out of place, and the way you were dressed made you feel like a fraud. Annie had told you that she sometimes felt that way, but it passed. You knew that it wouldn’t for you.

She was here with Hughie. You'd seen her for a second and she'd looked at you in surprise. You hadn't been able to tell her that you were coming to this thing, because Ashley had confiscated your phone, stating that you didn't have enough of an "online presence" to post anything of worth.

You were living for the moment that Annie found you and you could collapse into her and hug her. Being here was just solidifying the fact that you weren't what Ben wanted, that Ben wanted this life, women, drugs, fame, and all you had was a crappy one-bedroom apartment in a shitty neighborhood.

And all you were was a hopeless romantic searching for something in someone that would never exist.

"Are you okay?" Ben asks you, and you snap back into reality. He's raising an eyebrow at you, looking almost concerned.

You hate that he was doing that, acting like he cared, when all it did was give you the false hope that he would turn into someone different, someone who wanted to have a relationship.

"Yeah, it was just a lot."

Ben clocks your frown and the scrunch between your eyebrows that he knows is you tell for when you lie. You hope that he doesn't point it out.

"Ben look, I know that you think that all of this is-" You wave a hand. "But it's not me. I'm not this girl I'm not-" Your voice catches for just a second. "The party, this dress, the jewelry I-"

"You don't like the necklace?" Ben frowns.

"I mean it's pretty, but all I can think about is how much it cost. And how expensive the insurance policy must be for it." Ben's lip quirks up in a smile. "I think you're the first person to ever think that when I got them jewelry."

"Exactly Ben. I don't know why you want me here. Stan said you should have brought a date-date, you know like them." You point at the twins hanging on Deep's arm who laugh and jump with whatever he says, both wearing identical dresses that look like they were rigged with fishnet and seaweed.

"I don't give a fuck what Stan Edgar thinks, and I wanted you to come to this with me. Just give it a chance, we've only been here a few minutes." Ben replies, but for a moment you think you see something that looks a little bit like disappointment in his eyes.

You bite your cheek and search his gaze, hoping to catch another glimpse of it, but you don't. "Okay." You relent, nodding your head.

Ben stands there for another minute surveying the room, watching the couples begin to dance on the dance floor, and others wobbling their way to the bar. He looks a little lost in thought, so you don't interrupt him.

"Wait here. I'll be right back." He squeezes your forearm before he vanishes into the crowd without another word.

"But-" You begin to say, but he'd already gone. You audibly sigh and begin to sway back and forth to the song, something that you're not sure the name of, but the words are melancholic, a man singing about a woman who thinks falling in love with him is madness.

Someone taps you on the shoulder and you expect it to be Annie, but when you turn you see Jake. He's smiling at you, his shaggy blondish brown hair falling forward into his tortoiseshell glasses, and he's wearing a charcoal-colored suit. There's a bandage on the left side of his face hiding a cut you can't see, but you knew what it was from. You'd never seen him in a suit and maybe the old you would have noted how good he looks, but you can't, not when seeing him is a shocking reminder of everything that happened with your brother.

"Jake? What are you doing here?" You sputter.

"My dad is one of Vought's lawyers." He shrugs. "Invited me to this. I think he thought it would cheer me up after well… you know."

"Fuck, Jake I am so sorry for what happened. I really didn't mean to drag you into all of that or-" Before you can finish your sentence, he pulls you into a tight hug.

"You don't have to apologize." Jake says not stopping the hug. "What happened wasn't your fault. Annie told me what happened."

"But I destroyed your shop. And your face! I-"

He pulls back with a wide smile, the same one that he'd had all the years that you'd worked for him. "It's okay. Honestly it could have been a lot worse, but Ben pulled from the wreckage. Guy saved my life. I owe him big."

"He what?" You ask confused. You remember that Ben said he'd seen someone else helping Jake from the rubble.

Why would he lie about that?

"He saved my life." Jake smiles wider. "Not to mention he called today, said that he's going to bankroll me for a whole new shop. For a guy who acts like he hates me, he's sure putting in a lot of money."

"He's going to pay for a new shop?"

"Yep. Good thing too. Thought I was going to have to be a lawyer again."

"You weren't too good at that." You snort.

"Don't remind me." He groans. "So you're a supe. And Ben is Soldier Boy?"

"Yeah, it's a long story."

"I guess I should have known you were a supe. No one can make plants grown that fast." Jake jokes, his glasses catching the lights. "And Ben's intimidating so, that tracks.”

"Guess so."

It was weird to talk to him again. You'd been avoiding it for the better part of a week, but the two of you were falling into the same patterns you had in the past, and it was nice.

But for the first time since you'd started working for Jake, you don't see the appeal of dating him. It was odd. All the qualities in a man that you were looking for was right in front of you and you felt… nothing. Sure Jake was cute in a puppy sort of way but-

"Ben hey." Jake smiles at where Ben appears over your shoulder, back from whatever mysterious location he had been in moments ago.

"Jake." He grunts his name and you can only imagine Ben's frown.

Jake looks back at you. "It was good to see you. We should meet up to talk about where I should put the shop and what I should name it. Ben had this great idea about adding fresh produce and fruit, and maybe doing a farmer's market on the weekend. I know how much you like that sort of thing." Jake looks up at Ben and extends his hand. "Thanks again Ben, you saved my ass, and I think this new shop is going to be great."

Ben takes it. "Don't mention it. Really." His voice lowers like it's a threat. "Don't fucking mention it to anyone."

"Sure." Jake winks at you before he walks away through the crowd in the direction of the bar.

There's an awkward moment of silence as you turn to look at Ben.

"Didn't take you long to find that pussy did it?" Ben's jaw is clenched tight and you notice that he looks a little angry.

"He found me." You find yourself feeling guilty, and maybe you were because you were technically here with Ben, but it wasn't a date. He was just showing you what all of this was like.

"Sure. Bet you were just waiting for me to fucking leave so you could get your hands on the perfect man." Ben shakes his head and begins to turn away.

"Careful there Gramps, someone might think you're jealous." You tease, scooting around him to stand in his way.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I am not fucking jealous of him and-“

Before Ben can finish his sentence, you pull him in for a hug. You know that he was angry for some unknown reason, but you didn't want to be angry with him, not when he saved Jake's life, and not when Ben told Jake to add fresh produce, fruit, and a farmer's market because he'd remembered that it was your dream.

"Thank you Ben." You whisper into his chest, his body tenses in surprise just the way it was the last time you hugged him.

"You're welcome." He's not hugging you back, he's more resting his hands on your waist, and slowly very slowly you feel his right arm begin to raise enough to hold you for just a few precious seconds more against him. It made your heart beat stutter, because it was the closest thing that Ben had ever done to hug you back.

When you pull away your cheeks are flushed bright red, and the gardenia on your wrist now has a second bloom that Ben notices. He touches the delicate petals with a wide understanding smirk, his eyes catching yours.

"Guess you're having a good time now." Ben breathes.

"I might be." You whisper back. "Why didn't you tell me that you saved him?"

"Who?"

"Jake."

Ben frowns at the mention of Jake's name, his fingertips still tracing the petals where they barely kiss your skin. "It didn't matter."

"You saved his life. It does."

"I didn't want you to think that I did it because I gave a shit about him."

"What?"

Ben's frown deepens. "I'm not a good person Petals, I don't give a shit about him."

"Then why did you save him?"

He doesn't answer.

"Ben." You say softly, touching the front of his suit and he widens his eyes at your boldness. "Talk to me."

"I saved him because I didn't want you to find out that you killed him. I knew that you were going through a lot and I know you think that he's so fucking perfect and he's the man you love or whatever." Ben says it bitterly and it was the first time you think that you'd ever heard him sound that way.

"I don't love him."

"You will." Ben grits his teeth. "Because he's everything you want."

"Is that why you're giving him money for the plant shop? Because you think that I-"

"No, I did that because I know how much you love that fucking place and how much you hate all of this and being here with me and-"

"I don’t hate being here with you Ben." You admit before you can stop yourself. "I mean all of this isn't my favorite, but… you're my friend."

It hurt you a bit to say friend, but you didn’t want Ben to think that you hated him, not after he had saved Jake because he knew that it would have crushed you if you'd killed him, and not when he told Jake to add produce, fruits, and a weekend farmer's market just for you.

Ben stands there for a minute, the cameras flashing in the corner of your eye, and the longer you stand there, you're suddenly aware that "Gonna Sing You My Love Song" By ABBA was playing in the background, an odd choice for a party like this.

You look up at him in confusion, and Ben is smiling sheepishly, before you realize that was why Ben walked away before Jake showed up, to tell them to play it for you. Ben's hand lands against the small of your back and he begins to lead you towards the dance floor.

"What where are we going?"

"We're going to dance."

"Oh no. Ben I don't know how to dance and-"

"Just follow my lead Petals." He pulls you against him, putting your left hand on his right shoulder while his right hand finds the small of your back and his left hand catches your right.

You know that you must look ridiculous as you try to wobble along following Ben's lead.

"It's okay Petals, it's just us." Ben whispers with a smile, pulling you just a little tighter against him as the two of you begin to sway to the music.

And the longer you sway to the music, the more comfortable you feel being there with Ben. The warmth of his hand warming your body, his green eyes only focused on you, and the soft smile on his lips so unlike the Ben you saw smiling for the cameras a few minutes ago.

"Ben?"

"Hmm?"

"Why is it so important to you that I experience all of this?"

"Because everything you know about supes is from Billy Fucking Butcher. It's not always the way he says."

"But that doesn't really answer my question. Why is it important to you?"

Ben doesn't answer for a few seconds, measuring what he says. "Because I want you to like it."

"Why?"

“Because-“

And this time, instead of finishing his sentence, Ben leans forward and kisses you. His lips move with a softness that you never knew that he possessed, the hand he had on the small of your back holding you tighter against him, as your body molds into his.

This kiss is different than the one that the two of you shared outside of your apartment the first night he stayed with you, it’s filled with something unspoken that makes the weight in your chest lighten, that makes you feel as if you're floating above the dance-floor, but then something clamps down tight on your ankle and drags you back down to earth.

The song continues to play, the soft notes and words bringing back the memory of your parents dancing in a darkened kitchen lit only by candlelight, with your father looking at your mother as if she was his whole world. Their love and your grandparent's love had infused your childhood with something magical, a romance that seemed to transcend time and space, you knew how much you wanted it.

And standing here with Ben kissing you only reminded you that he didn't want that, that he didn't want a relationship, that all he wanted was to sweep you off your feet and make you his for only one night when you wanted a lifetime.

You suddenly heard Stan Edgar's words ringing in your ears when he called you the "new one." Just another in a sea of women who threw themselves at Ben for this exact reason, for his suave attitude, extravagant gifts, and lavish parties where he brought them to cling to his arm.

You remember what Annie said about how Ben spent his entire week in the apartment upstairs, how he spent a whole week fucking his way through whatever came his way instead of calling you or texting you back, and how he didn't seem to care that you wanted to reach him.

And it snaps you out of it.

You pull back from Ben's kiss and out of his arms, your head swimming with emotion. The urge to cry comes up in the back of your throat like vomit, but you shove it down.

Ben looks surprised and you figure that he is, because it hadn't worked, you hadn't fallen for it the way the others had.

He says your name for the first time in a long time, but you shake your head and take another step back from him.

"I can't do this Ben." You turn and flee through the crowds, feeling everyone's eyes on you as you stumble on shaky legs towards the elevator.

You can hear Ben saying your name again and then hear Annie, but you ignore them. You can't be here, you can't go back to the prying eyes of the reporters, and you can't look at Ben, not when he was pretending to give you everything you wanted and you could feel your heart breaking.

The doors of the elevator close just as before Ben reaches them, and your eyes lock with his through the thin opening. He looks the way he did the day you left him standing in the street the day you killed Darren. The same look flashes in his eyes, shock, worry, and maybe just a little bit of fear, but you can't look at him anymore.

The numbers on top of the elevator passes in a blur, the tears finally bubbling up and spilling over your cheeks, the make-up that was so meticulously applied smudging, but you don't care.

You want to get out of this dress, get Rex, and go home. Your real home, where Bean is waiting for you, curled up on the couch, where your plants are, where you could crawl into bed under the covers and forget that this entire night ever happened.

But then you remember how cold it felt when you left this morning to get coffee with Annie, when you were aware of how empty it was when Ben wasn't there.

No. Please just let me get through this.

You practically shoot from a cannon when the elevator opens onto Ben's floor.

Rex greets you at the door with a toothy grin, now the size of a Labrador, jumping from where he was curled on the plush leather couch to come say hello.

You scratch him under the chin, your tears still falling and you knew that they wouldn't stop anytime soon. Everything was crashing down on you again, everything you were realizing that you felt about Ben.

You stumble through the large apartment towards the bedroom hoping to find your clothes where Ashley had wadded them into a plastic garbage bag as if she couldn't look at denim overalls without vomiting.

And as you reach the bedroom door, you hear the door of the apartment open and Ben shout your name.

For a second you think about locking the bedroom door, but you figure that he'll only break it down. Ben’s track record with locked doors wasn't the best and you didn’t want this one to suffer.

You snag the plastic bag from the corner of the room just as he opens the bedroom door.

"Petals, what the fuck is going on? Why did you-" Ben begins to say, shutting the door on Rex who was sitting just outside.

"I can't do this Ben." You interrupt him.

"Do what?"

"Any of this!" You wave your hand around the room for emphasis. "I'm not this girl. And I'm not some bimbo that you can wine and dine and fuck and then throw away."

"What in the actual fuck are you talking about?"

“I can’t do this." You repeat with a sob, tears curling down your cheeks. You couldn't quite look at him, not without feeling like your heart was burning up. "So, whatever fucked up science experiment this is I want out. I can’t be here.”

“I thought we were having a good time? That you were enjoying yourself?” Ben says. "We were dancing and then I-"

“Why? Because you were pretending to be the man that I’ve always wanted, the one that keep telling me you aren’t? By making me fall in love with a version of you that doesn’t exist? So after you get what you want you just leave me?” You spit.

It hurt you to say the words to him, but it was how you felt. You felt like Ben was yanking you around on an emotional chain, trying to manipulate you by doing kind things, by acting like he cared, just so that you'd finally give in to him after saying no to him since the moment the two of you met.

It made you feel stupid to think that there was a part of you that believed he could be the man you fell in love with.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you down there changing tactics to manipulate me!”

“What?” Ben shouts looking utterly confused.

“Manipulate my emotions by playing that song, saving Jake, telling him to open a fucking farmer's market, and holding me like you actually care with the reporters and kissing me the way I want!"

“I wasn’t trying to fucking manipulate you-“

“Don’t try to lie. I know when you’re lying.” You point a finger at him, ripping the gardenia corsage from your wrist and tossing it across the room at him.

It hits him square in the chest and falls to the floor.

“I never fucking lie to you.”

"Oh please." You could feel the anger, frustration, and the feelings you had for Ben that you pushed down coming to a head. "You do. And I refuse to be 'the new one.'"

Ben's eyes widen in realization. "Are you talking about what that piece of shit Stan said when he saw you earlier today?"

"What else?! Annie told me exactly how you spent your glorious and masterful return to Vought. How you had Stan Edgar bus in women for you all week long!" You reach around to remove the necklace and the ears, fearful that you’ll break them in your anger.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"IT HAS EVERYTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING!" You scream so loud you were sure that the words were vibrating against the windows. "It's how I know you're manipulating me! Because if you really did care about me, and care what I like, and want to be the man who I saw downstairs or the man that came to check on me when I was having a nightmare or the man who sat in the hospital for days you wouldn't have been doing that all week. You would have been in Illinois with me!"

"I told you why I wasn't fucking there!" Ben shouts back just as loud.

"Oh sure. Mr. "I didn't think you'd want me there" What a great fucking excuse, just let me swoon!" You snarl back. The tears were falling faster now and showed no signs of stopping.

Ben's teeth grit together and he looks close to exploding, but you see him gain control. "Just shut up for one fucking second and let me explain."

But you're already past all of this. You were so tired emotionally and physically, so out of touch with everything that by now you could feel yourself slipping into insanity.

"No Ben, because you know what?" By now you're so frustrated that you're almost laughing. "Congratulations! Your big plan paid off!"

"What?"

"You've done it! You've won. You finally wore me down Ben. You finally did everything that I wanted, so come on let's do it! Let's fuck! Because who cares about all the fucking romantic pussy shit right?" Your hands scramble against the dress, the delicate material tearing off in your hands easily and leaving you in the lacy black bra and underwear that Ashley had forced you into. You advance on Ben, throwing away the ruined dress. "This is what you wanted right? Me naked and completely yours? So let's go! No emotions no nothing. Who needs any of that as long as you get laid? You'll get your five to ten minutes, and then you'll throw me away. Just like you throw away all those other women!"

Ben looks at you stunned as if he thinks you've lost your mind and maybe you have. Because you were so sick of this, of all of this, for trying so hard to refuse him, for trying to hold out for someone who you didn’t think you’d ever meet.

"But it's fine. Throw me away! People have manipulated me and thrown me away my whole life, but whatever you want Ben. Because it’s all about you! Oh wait do you want me to call you Soldier Boy? Would that make all of this better for you?"

Ben still hasn't moved and by now you're standing just a few inches away from you, the expression on his face unreadable.

You grip the front of his suit. "Come on. Take off your clothes!"

He says your name in a low tone, but you don’t listen to him.

"Oh what? Were you expecting something different? You want to pretend that you're going to make love to me? You think that’ll help?”

He says your name again.

"Oh you don't want me now? Is that it? Because I'm finally giving you everything you want?" You rip the suit jacket off of him, and reach to grab his shirt, tearing it and sending buttons flying everywhere.

"Petals." Ben growls, his jaw tight.

“No! Come on. You pretended to be everything I want, you deserve a good fuck. Come on!” You tug at what's left of his shirt, losing the fight to the emotions that continue to crash over you, sobs shaking your shoulders. You beat your fists against his chest, and you know that he probably doesn't feel it, but it feels so damn good to hit him to release whatever the hell all of this was.

Ben's hands come up to grip your wrists the best he can to stop you, but by now you can't form words. Uncontrollable sobs are shaking your body, tears blurring your vision, your breath coming in savage gasps that do little to bring oxygen into your lungs. The makeup is smeared over your cheeks and you know that you look like a drowned raccoon by now, but you don’t care.

He whispers your name in a soft tone, in a way that you've never heard him say before, and it only makes you cry harder.

You collapse into his chest, shaking uncontrollably. You couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything except cling to the tatters of his dress shirt and sob into his chest.

Ben picks you up, scooping under your knees as if you weight absolutely nothing and places you on his bed, but instead of staying there with you he walks away and it breaks something inside, because all you can think is that you'd finally done it, you'd finally proven to him that you wouldn’t be one of the women who gave in and he really no longer would pretend to care about you.

You grab for one of the pillows, smearing your make-up onto the fabric and clutching it to your chest like a lifeline. You could hear Rex outside the door scratching because he wanted to check in on you, but you can't get up.

The bed dips and when you look up Ben is sitting there with a wash-cloth in his hand.

"What?" You sniffle.

"Close your eyes." He says.

You do as he says, sitting up so he can see you better. The washcloth drags over your cheeks, wiping away the makeup that was smudged and caked over your red cheeks.

“I never really liked makeup. When I was younger all the women used to look natural didn’t wear all this shit on their faces.” He rumbles. "I kind of like that you don't wear it as much."

The pressure of the cloth is surprisingly gentle against your cheeks far gentler than you would have thought possible. He adjusts his left hand to cup your cheeks, and as another tear falls you feel his thumb brush it away. The methodical stroking of the washcloth against your skin is calming your racing heart and Ben is quiet for another few minutes, focusing on his task.

Finally, he withdraws his washcloth and sets it down on the bedside table, next to the pothos. You feel his weight shift away from you.

“Put this on. Because you in my bed in your fucking underwear is really testing my restraint.”

You open your eyes and see that he's holding his dark t-shirt, the one from earlier that he wore when he came to pick you up. You raise your eyes to look at him, trying to gauge what he's feeling, but he's keeping his cards close to his chest.

You slip the shirt over your head and as soon as you do, Ben tucks it under you.

Ben was being more gentle than usual. Gentler than you'd ever seen him be. It was making you dizzy. Because again, he was acting like a completely different person. The person that you wanted him to be, the person that he could be to make you fall in love with him.

He swallows.

“I didn’t bring you to Vought because I thought I could manipulate you into sleeping with me.” Ben pauses to readjust. “I mean the thought crossed my mind, that maybe you would be more open to sleeping with me. I'm not perfect Petals, I'm just a fucking man."

You're clutching the pillow to your chest still, trying to understand what he was saying. His thigh is brushing against yours from where he sits on the edge of the bed.

“And you’re right I do want you. I’ve always wanted you, since the moment I saw you.”

“I know that-“

“Let me fucking finish.” He snaps

You sigh and rub your cheeks with the back of your hand. The expression on his face is almost pained, frustration shines behind his eyes as if he hates what he's about to admit.

“I’m such a fucking pussy.” Ben shakes his head, saying it more to himself than to you.

What?

“I wanted to have you. And you kept saying no. Which normally I wouldn’t care, I would just move on, but you fucking did something to me. Whenever I was fucking someone else all I thought about was you. You yelling at me, or going off about some stupid shit that I did, when I know that I did it the right way." He huffs. "And it-shit- It made me guilty."

"Guilty?"

"Yes!" He snaps.

"Why?"

"I don't fucking know! It just did!"

Your eyes widen in shock. It was the last thing that you were expecting Ben to say.

"I've never, never cared about anyone other than me. ME. I'm Soldier Boy. I'm not supposed to have any kind of weakness especially not for someone like you." Ben spits the word 'you' like a curse.

"Like me?" You whisper with a sniffle. By now the tears are about to start falling again. You didn’t know what he thought this was, but it just seemed like he was insulting you. "Ben I don't understand what you're saying."

“Yes like you! You’re-“ He gestures to you as if he can’t really find the words. “You’re fucking annoying , you crochet those ridiculous sweaters, you like plants, you get people presents for their birthdays, you sing in the shower, you care about other people-“

“So I act like a person?” You wipe away the tears with the back of your hand.

“No! You-“ He roars in frustration and rises from the bed, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

You can see the glow in the center of his chest burning hot as if he's about to explode, but he gets it under control.

“When Diana called me and told me that you wanted me there I-“ Ben's jaw tightens. “I wanted to come, but I hate how much I care about you because I fucking shouldn’t!”

“You hate how much you care about me?”

"I knew that I was in too deep, so when Stan called I jumped at the chance to get out of Butcher's shitty little outfit! I came here and I had him bus in all those women so I could fuck it out of my system, fuck you out of my system but I can't!" His eyes flash around the room with anger and frustration. "Because when I moved out I realized it meant I wouldn’t see you. It meant that I wouldn’t hear you bitch about me doing something wrong, I wouldn’t see your cheeks get fucking red right before you tell me off, I wouldn't smell that damn grapefruit shampoo that follows you around.” By now he almost looks angry, shouting more at himself than at you. "I wouldn't see you sitting on that stupid fucking couch in those sweatpants that drive me crazy while you crochet like a fucking old person. And I wouldn't see the way all the plants in your apartment turn towards you when you walk in or how they all fucking bloom when you smile."

Wait a minute, is he saying that he misses me when I'm gone? That he missed seeing me as much as I missed seeing him when he didn't come to Illinois?

"And I fucking saved that pussy's life because I knew it would destroy you if you found out he died. And I wanted to fund his new plant shop with a damn farmer's market because you said that was your dream and yeah maybe I wanted you to like all of this-" Ben waves his arms around the room. "But I want you to be happy Petals! I fucking hate it when you cry and I hate what happened with your brother and everything that happened with that piece of shit Elijah. I wanted you to have a choice to leave it all, because the shit that Butcher puts you through every damn week isn't for you! I've known that since the day we fucking met."

You felt your chest tighten with his confession, because you suddenly realize that Ben was trying to give you a way out, he was trying to pull you away from Butcher's line of work because he knew it wasn't for you.

It was the conversation the two of you had the first night he stayed with you, when he said that you didn't quite "fit." It was true. You didn't love working for Butcher and you only stuck around to be with Annie, but the fact that Ben cared enough to try and give you an out, something that not even Butcher had done, made you feel like crying all over again. By now he was pacing the room, talking more to himself than to you, almost as if he didn't really want to tell you what he was feeling.

And despite never telling Ben, he figured out that you felt more like you at the plant shop.

"I don't know what you fucking did to me. I've never felt any of this shit before! Even with that bitch Countess this was different! It wasn't like this! I can't sleep without hearing you breathing, I can't eat without knowing that you ate- because you always fucking forget to eat some shit, and I can't survive without seeing you. So are you happy? You've turned me into a pussy. Because yeah I'd still like to fuck your brains out, but now I don't want to do that with anyone else I just want to do it with you." He shouts it pointing a finger at you as if he's accusing you of being a witch.

He is in love with me. Soldier Boy is in love with me. BEN IS IN LOVE WITH ME.

The realization hits you like a ton of bricks to the chest, that even though Ben tried to distance himself from you, he had fallen, he had done the one thing that he swore than he never was going to.

"Ben-" You start to say in a whisper, but he keeps going.

"So no at the party I wasn't trying to manipulate you. I held you close in the photos because I knew you were scared. That’s why I made the cunts stop taking pictures. I kissed you like that because you were looking up at me with that look in your eyes that makes me fucking burn. I had them play that damn song because I wanted you to be happy to be there with me, especially after that fucking pussy Jake came over and touched you. Do you have any idea what it does to me when he touches you? Or when he makes you fucking smile about some shit? Or when he looks at you? Or the way you look at him?" His chest is glowing again. The tatters of his shirt are still hanging off his body from where you ripped it open.

"Ben-"

"And yeah, maybe I'm not some wimp who likes fucking plants. And maybe you're right, maybe I'm not the guy you bring home to meet your parents, but all I fucking want is for you to look at me the way you look at him!" He snarls and your mouth drops open in shock. "Do you have any idea how fucking ridiculous that is? I don't get jealous! I have fucked so many women and never given a shit if they had someone else, but I'm not even fucking you and the thought of you with him makes me want to-"

"Ben!" You shout over his monologue.

"What?" Ben snaps face contorted with rage.

You swallow. "I love you too."

And you know it's the truth, you know that it's exactly what you've been ignoring and what you've been fighting tooth and nail to avoid admitting to yourself because you were afraid that you were going to get hurt. You were afraid to have those kinds of feelings for Ben, because you thought he would only break your heart and push you away.

You can hear your grandmother's words ringing in your ears:

"There's something else that you refuse to admit to yourself because you're scared. You should though, because when you embrace it, what comes after is really beautiful."

You had been so afraid to fall for the wrong man, but looking at Ben now and listening to everything he said to you, everything he admitted didn't make you think that he was the wrong man anymore. It made you realize that he was the right man, but only for you.

Ben is still staring at you, face contorted with his rage and frustration, eyes burning with the jealousy that he's never allowed himself to admit aloud.

But you refuse to take it back. It was true, maybe the truest thing that you have ever admitted in your entire life, and you didn't regret it.

You knew you loved him even when he made a disgusting joke or teased you or drove you to the point of insanity. You knew that it was why Ben was able to push all your buttons just the right way in a way no one ever had. You knew that was why your apartment was so empty and why you kept thinking that something was missing when he wasn’t there.

Because you loved Ben, and nothing else in your life seemed to matter.

His entire body is pulled tense, the glow in his chest dimming until it's completely gone. And for just a moment you think that Ben is going to start yelling at you again and accusing you of bewitching him, but he doesn't.

Ben crosses the room in two powerful strides and practically tackles you back onto the bed. His mouth fits against yours, urgent, demanding, but also filled with things unsaid. The feelings that both of you had for so long colliding, like a supernova, making your body ignite. You melt into him, feeling the comforting weight of his body settle on top of yours like a heated blanket as you sink into the blankets beneath you.

You hate that you denied yourself this indulgence for so long, not when it feels like Ben was made for you. Not when every single twist of his tongue sends you further into overdrive and makes something at the back of your mind scream “MORE!” at the top of its lungs.

Ben’s body fits perfectly over yours, his hands holding on to your cheeks so tight as if he’s afraid you’re going to pull away from him again as if he thinks you’ll run like you did.

A part of you knows that you’ll always feel guilty for that, for running from Ben when he kissed you on the dance floor. But you won’t feel guilty for this.

The world falls silent and you’re left with Ben.

The man who seemed to be wrong for you in every way, the one who told you that he didn’t believe in romance, and the man who you can’t live without.

“Ben-“ You moan into his mouth your arms wrapped under his arms to hold him close to you, afraid that he’s going to cut and run. “Ben wait-“

“What?” He smiles down at you the same way he did the morning you woke up next to him. And it’s the same way you wanted to make him smile for the rest of your life. Not the cocky smirk,but the soft smile that you felt Ben only reserved for you.

But before you can answer, Ben dips his mouth down and kisses you again. It’s not with the same burning intensity as before, but this time it’s with the gentle movement of his lips against yours, the soft nudge of his nose while his scruff rubs against your cheeks in a way that makes you sigh into his mouth.

“What is it Petals?” He whispers pulling back.

You gently shuffle your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, loving the way the strands fall between your fingertips and scrunching it out of the slicked back style it was earlier. He looks more like himself now. “Can we go back to the apartment?”

“You want to leave?” Ben frowns. “You don’t want to stay with me?” The way his voice shifts just a little, breaks your heart and you pull his face back down so you can kiss him again.

How can he think that I don't want to stay with him if I just admitted that I loved him? Is that how it was with Countess? That she promised him those little things and then left him?

“Of course I want to stay with you Ben. I just like the apartment more."

“Then why?”

“Because it’s cold here. There’s no warmth and nothing familiar. It’s like a museum. And I miss Bean.”

“But-“

“I know that you’re used to this and that you like all of this, but I don’t. I’m not this girl. I’m not the parties and the jewelry and the millions of screaming fans and the ridiculous dresses. I like my little crappy apartment and my five hundred jobs and just staying in to watch movies and eat pizza or read a book and I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” His hand cups your cheek.

“Because this is what you like. The fans, the parties, the apartment on the top floor of Vought tower-“

“I don’t care about any of it if you’re not with me.” Ben winces as if it physically hurt him to say that. “Fuck. Forget I said that-“

Your lips meet his, gently pulling him further on top of you. “No.” You whisper, pressing another kiss to the tip of his nose. “Because it’s not weak for you to admit that you like having me around. Would you hate it if I said that I hate not being around you?”

“No.” He mutters, but he doesn’t look any less disgusted with himself and you’re not convinced.

"We're going to have to work on that Gramps." You smile kissing him once more. Ben's hands travel from your face down to your hips griping your body even tighter against where he lies in the cradle of your thighs and bringing your legs up to wrap around his waist. "Ben?"

"Hmm?"

"I also don't want to have sex with you in this bed."

"Why not?" He smirks. "It's pretty comfortable."

"Because I don't know when the last time you cleaned the sheets was and I don’t want to think about all the women that have been in here this week."

Ben frowns. "Probably good that you don’t." But then he smirks again, pushing the cotton t-shirt you’re wearing up over your thighs, brushing his fingertips against the soft skin gets closer to everywhere you want him to be, his eyes glinting mischievously. "But you're finally admitting you want to have sex with me?"

"I guess so."

“Good.” He smirks. “Because I think I’ve been patient long enough. And I can’t wait to show you just what you’ve been missing out on.”

“You are so full of-“

Ben cuts you off again, his tongue slipping between your lips while his fingers search even higher to a place that makes you gasp and moan into his mouth.

“You were saying?” You can feel his smirk against your lips and fuck if it’s not the sexiest thing you’ve ever felt.

“I was saying, let’s get out of here.”

The car drive from Vought Tower to your apartment was ten minutes, and you were very much appreciating the tinted windows and private backseat from the driver. Ben hadn't been able to take his hands off you since the two of you left and you also were enjoying learning how much Ben liked it when you touched him.

You didn't know how you were ever going to stop. Everywhere inside and out of you felt like it was on fire. It had never been this way with any of the men that you'd dated in the past.

Even your first boyfriend, Newton, never made you feel as beautiful and sexy as Ben did, but it felt pointless to compare them. Not when Ben touching you made you feel like you were radioactive and burning from the inside out.

By the time you get to your apartment door, your lips are already swollen and red, and there’s a collection of marks on your neck that Ben was more than happy to place.

“Ben-“ You moan softly trying to fit your key into the lock of your front door.

He was pressed against you, his hands roaming up and down while he sucked another mark into the shadow of your jaw, his beard burning against your delicate skin in a way that made you want to lose yourself in him.

“I’m a little busy at the moment Petals.”

“We’re in public.” You giggle as you try to fit your key in the door again, but Ben pushes you up against it, his large hand reaches low to squeeze your butt and possessively roams his other one over your chest in a way that makes you flush bright red at the thought of anyone seeing the two of you.

Rex was sitting patiently at your feet for the door to open, while looking up and down the hallway for a potential meal.

“So?” Ben rumbles against your throat, and you can feel his smirk against your skin. “I want everyone to know you’re my girl.”

“Everyone or Jake? Because I don’t see him and-“

Ben moves so fast you think you imagine it. Your arms are suddenly wrapped around the back of his neck, and he has your legs tangled around his waist, bracing your back against the door.

“Don’t say his name in front of me.” Ben all but growls, eyes so dark that it sends a shudder down your spine. “Not now.”

“Please don’t be jealous of him.” You whisper, nudging your nose against his, before you kiss him once more. “I stopped noticing him the day you moved in.”

“Oh really?”

You nod.

“Good thing too.” He murmurs with a smirk. “Because I’m about to make you forget him and everything else.”

A shudder goes through your body that Ben notices and the smirk that curves over his lips makes it difficult to breathe.

“Your heart is racing.” The hand that he has placed under your leg to support you against the door brushes against the soft fabric of the sweatpants he let you borrow moving back to hold on to your ass. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re excited.” He kisses you again, long and drawn out in a way that makes you feel like you’re going to melt into a puddle. “That I excite you.”

He’s going to be the death of me.

“You excite me too.” Ben says kissing the slope of your neck to suck a new mark there, before you can stop him.

“You’re very sure of yourself.” You say out of breath.

“Mhmm.” He moans, but he puts you down to let you open the door.

Your hand finds his as you cross the threshold of the apartment, giving it a gentle squeeze to reassure him.

Bean is lounging on the couch, a lazy smirk on his lips as if he knew exactly what the two of you were about to do, and Rex scuttles over to sit on the other side of the couch, jostling Bean who gives an angry hiss, that Rex ignores.

The air in the apartment is different now that Ben is with you. It’s not cold or dark anymore or empty, it’s warm and light and filled with something that you’re not sure what it is yet, but you can’t wait to find out. And it makes you happy, happier than you’ve ever felt in your entire life.

“So… yours or mine?” Ben murmurs with a smile, his eyes shifting to the couch in your living room before flicking above your head to the darkened hallway where your bedroom is.

“Hmm.” You bite the inside of your cheek as if contemplating something. “Well I was thinking-“ You begin to walk backwards, tugging him in the direction of the bedroom. “What about ours?”

You didn’t think you’d ever seen Ben smile so wide, his eyes softening in the gentle light coming from the lamps in your living room.

“You asking me to move back in?”

“No. I’m asking you to come home.” You whisper because you knew that it was home, that no matter how many times Ben had said it in passing, the word home had changed into something wonderful.

“I like the sound of that Petals.”

You continue to pull him down the hallway, but before you get to the bedroom, Ben stops.

“Petals?”

“Yeah?” You look up at him suddenly worried.

“I’m not going to lie to you I’m not really that gentle, but I know that’s you want that. That you want someone who’ll make love to you, but I-“ He grimaces when he says the words ‘make love.’ “I don’t know if I can.”

“It’s okay.” You whisper, cupping his bearded cheek. “As long as I have you it doesn’t matter.”

“You do. And I’m going to try.” Ben murmurs. “I want to show you how much you mean to me.”

“I know.” You kiss him again and wonder if he’s ever said that to anyone else. “I trust you Ben.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Let me decide that.”

And it was true. You knew that Ben wasn’t gentle, but he was with you. And you trusted him. And sure, maybe it wouldn’t look the same way that you’d always imagined when you read those romance books, but it was your love story, your romance, and you didn’t care how it looked as long as Ben was there with you.

A/N: Well the two idiots finally figured it out in the most dramatic way possible lol. I will say that writing that confession scene might be my favorite thing that I've ever written, goodness it was so fun and I've had it written for AGES 😂😭. I'm not quite done with them yet, I see maybe another chapter or two, but we are quickly nearing the end of this story. Again thank you so much everyone for all the love and support, I really couldn't do it without all the wonderful feedback and love that everyone has shown me. ❤️🥰

If you'd like to ask me about my WIPs for WIP game my asks are open! And my WIPs are listed on this post!

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

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