#reminds me of Annie from Not a thing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theragethatisdesire · 1 year ago

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scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!

hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!

beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol

pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader

wc: 9.1k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)

have fun ;)

This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.

“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”

“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.

“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, ��it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”

“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.

“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”

“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”

You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”

“Fine!”

“Fine?”

“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”

He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.

You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.

You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.

It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends�� cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.

When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”

“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.

You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”

“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”

You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”

If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.

As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”

“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.

“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.

“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.

“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.

Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.

“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”

“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.

“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”

You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–

“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.

“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”

“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.

“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”

You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.

“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.

The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.

“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.

“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”

The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.

“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.

“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.

Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.

“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”

One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”

Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”

Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”

Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.

“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”

“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.

Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.

You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.

“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.

“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”

“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”

“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”

Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”

“Sasha–”

“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”

“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. “Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”

“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.

You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.

Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren’s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.

You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?

He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.

“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.

“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.

His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–

Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.

The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.

“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.

“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.

Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.

“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”

“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.

Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.

“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”

“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.

A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”

“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”

Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”

“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”

“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.

“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”

“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.

A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.

Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.

“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”

“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”

“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.

He spits directly in Eren’s face.

Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.

“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.

“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.

“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”

You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.

“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.

“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.

He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.

Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.

Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.

“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?”

“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.

“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”

No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”

You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.

“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.

Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.

“What the hell was that, Eren?”

He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.

“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”

“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.

“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”

“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.

Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”

“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.

Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”

“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”

Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”

“You’re my–”

“The other thing.”

“I needed you.”

“Again.”

“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”

He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”

“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.

“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”

Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.

“Do you still?”

“Still?”

“Need me.”

You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”

“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”

You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.

“I still need you. Now.”

Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.

“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”

A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren’s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.

His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”

You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”

Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.

Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.

Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.

“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.

“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.”

Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.

“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”

Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin.

“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”

“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.

“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”

A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.

“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”

“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.

“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”

Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.

He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.

Eren chuckles. “You need something?”

“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.

“You want me to stop fucking with you?”

“Please, Eren, I need you–”

“That’s all you had to say.”

And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.

Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.

“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.

“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.

“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“I need– fuck– I need more.”

“Magic word?”

“Please, Eren, fuck!”

“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”

Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.

“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it.

“Close?”

“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”

“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”

Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–

“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”

The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.

“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”

He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch.

“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”

Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”

You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”

You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”

Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.

Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.

“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”

“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”

You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.

“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”

“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”

You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.

And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.

“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”

You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.

“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”

“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”

“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.

Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.

You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.

“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”

You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.

Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.

You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.

“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”

“He’s not my-”

“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.

You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”

Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.

“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”

You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.

“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”

“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”

“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.

“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”

You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.

“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.

“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”

You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”

He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.

It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.

“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.

“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”

That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”

“Maybe he wants to apologize.”

Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”

“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.

Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.

“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”

There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.

“I just–”

“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”

You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”

“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”

Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”

“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.

“You might have me there.”

“Better than horseface?”

“Watch it.”

The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”

“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.

“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”

“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.

He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”

#aot x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren x you #eren yaeger x you #eren yeager smut #aot fanfiction #eren jaeger fic #eren jaeger fanfiction

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zepskies · 7 months ago

Text

Calculated Risks

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: You and Ben argue about your commitment to being a working mom. When a rogue supe gets loose at Supe Affairs, mayhem ensues, putting not only your life at risk, but your daughter’s as well.

AN: Welcome back to the BMD-verse, friends! Did you miss these two as much as I did? Plus, get ready for a heavy dose of fan-favorite Frank. (And Lila, of course!)

Word Count: 7K

Tags/Warnings: Familiar bickering, a mission gone awry, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Catch up on the BMD-verse. ⤵️

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

In four years of marriage, one thing that had never changed between you and Ben was this.

“All right, you’re being a little too much right now,” you said in irritation. “Of course I’m not sitting this one out. I’m the one who found us the damn lead in the first place.”

The man was following you from the adjoining bathroom and back into your shared bedroom, where you began getting dressed for work in the blouse and pencil skirt you’d laid out for yourself.

Your husband had already donned his supe suit, sans helmet. He stood just behind you with his arms crossed, a familiar surly frown on his face. When you turned around, he hadn’t moved an inch.

“I’m being too much? You’re the one who’s not being fucking reasonable,” he said.

You rolled your eyes and moved past him to find your shoes. For this skirt, you really needed heels. Your most comfortable black pumps would do. You grabbed the closet doorknob for balance as you slipped them on, giving him a look of exasperation.

Ben held firm on his stance, but inside, he had a feeling you’d chosen this outfit on purpose. You knew he liked this whole sexcretary look on you, with your hair let down around your shoulders. The skirt and heels just brought his eyes to the delectable curve of your ass.

But again, he was holding firm.

He’d been called in on this case partly because Annie was on maternity leave. She was due in just a few weeks. Which meant “Soldier Boy” was definitely needed to help out Butcher and his merry band of assholes. By now, Ben had gotten used to them.

“Look,” you said, “Slingshot has been causing a lot of havoc, and the police haven’t been able to catch him. You heard Grace. This is an ‘all hands on deck’ situation.”

“She always says that shit. Doesn’t make it true,” Ben retorted.

“This time it is,” you said. “I’ve already put in tons of man hours on surveillance for this guy. I want to get him off the street.”

Ben held you by your arms. “That’s exactly my point. You’ve been putting in way too many hours.”

You shook your head. He just didn’t get it.

“If I hadn’t, we wouldn’t have this opening now,” you said. You gave him a smile to try and lighten him. “Now he’s all teed up for you and the guys. This should be in and out. Practically a milk run for you.”

“Yeah, but not for you,” he pointed out. “And not for Lila. You’re stretching yourself too damn thin. It’s not like we need the money.”

Ahh, now we get to it, you thought. Yet again, he was bringing this up. In his mind, you should’ve cut your hours at Supe Affairs after Lila was born.

You did take an extended maternity leave of an entire year and a half, which was much more than women usually got from their jobs. However, because of your relationship with Grace and the entire team, you’d been allowed to come back whenever you felt ready.

Ben had often felt it necessary to point out that with his money, you didn’t have to work at all.

He knew very well that for you, this work was more than a job.

“I’m not the first working mom in existence, Ben,” you said, pushing out of his hold. “And I’ll remind you that Supe Affairs has a great daycare program. Lila’s very happy there.”

Plus, she was almost three and a half years old. In less than a year, Lila would be off to preschool.

“And look, it’s not about the money,” you added. “I told you before Lila was born. I am a mother, and I’m your wife. But I’m still me.”

Ben processed that for a moment, meeting your gaze.

“The situation’s changed,” he replied. He grasped your hips this time. His thumb gently brushed over your belly, which had a small bump under your high-waisted skirt.

You were finally pregnant again. Three months, in fact, and you were having a boy. You knew that Ben had several reasons to be more protective than usual…but still. You thought you were already taking every precaution to keep you and your children safe, even with the occasionally extensive hours of your job.

“These cases can be long and difficult, not to mention dangerous,” said Ben. His green eyes met yours as he looked down at you through furrowed brows. “You’re putting yourself at risk.”

You blew out a breath and tried to placate him, soothing a hand over his chest.

“I’ve stopped doing field missions,” you pointed out. “And Supe Affairs is the most secure building in the city. Do you think I would bring Lila there if it wasn’t?”

The security team at the S.A. was bar none, not only because Loco was a part of that team. Frank was also your personal bodyguard; Ben hired him back when you found out you were pregnant with Lila.

In fact, Frank was coming to the house in a few minutes to pick you all up.

Ben frowned. “I think you’re being stubborn just to be fucking stubborn.”

That sparked at your temper. Again, you withdrew from his arms and crossed yours.

“I think you need to face the fact that I’m protected as well as I can be,” you said. “I also think that you’re trying to use this as a way to shoehorn me into some antiquated idea of what you still think a wife should be. I’m gonna tell you right now. That’s not me! It’s never been me. And you know that.”

He opened his mouth to give an angry retort, but you beat him to it.

“It’s like you don’t even care about what I want,” you snapped. “Just what you think is right—for me to be here waiting for you to come home, quite literally barefoot and pregnant, ready to rub your balls!”

Cliché as it might’ve been to say, if the shoe fit, then you were certainly not going to be the one to wear it.

“You know what, you can accuse me of being stuck in the fucking past all you want,” Ben said, raising a finger, as well as his voice. “But the problem here isn’t me. It’s that what you want is goddamn idiotic!”

Your mouth fell agape. “Excuse me?! I can’t even believe you right now!”

Ben fairly loomed above you when he shouted back.

“Well, that makes fucking two of us!”

His voice was loud enough to reverberate on the walls. You even flinched, but you held your ground with a glare…

Until you heard a whimper.

You and Ben paused, and turned to find Lila. The three-year-old was cowering a bit in the doorway to your bedroom. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she began to cry.

Your heart broke.

“Oh, honey,” you breathed. You were both apologetic and mortified as you quickly went to her.

Ben was close behind you, but while Lila was quick to melt into your arms when you picked her up, she shied away from his attempt to reach out to her. What would’ve been a placating hand on her head, turned into him pausing in surprise when she ducked.

“Lila?” he prodded.

He tried to mask how put out he was by his daughter hiding her face from him, burrowing into your neck instead. She was usually a daddy’s girl, through and through.

You shot him a knowing frown, while rubbing her back in comfort.

“It’s okay, baby,” you told her. “Your dad and I were just…talking. He didn’t mean to shout.”

When Lila only whimpered in response, Ben’s gaze dimmed in understanding. His lips pursed.

You saw that look on his face, and you wanted to sigh. Part of you felt bad for him, at the way Lila had flinched away from her father. In a way though, maybe it was a lesson he needed to learn.

Frank arrived a few minutes later in a black SUV, like he did every weekday morning to bring you all to work. Ben was quiet and taciturn climbing into the backseat on one side, and you clipped Lila into her car seat from the other side. He still made sure that she was strapped in correctly, and even tried to earn his daughter’s gaze.

She snuck a glance at him a couple of times, but quickly lowered it to play with one of her favorite stuffed animal toys (a little German shepherd that he had gotten for her).

Ben let out a long breath through his nose. He gave Frank a nod through the rearview mirror, and the other man peeled away from the house.

The four of you rode in silence away from your house in Scarsdale, towards New York City.

Ben’s mood remained grim, even when you all got to Supe Affairs. Frank held back while you and Ben stopped in the hallway with Lila. You were carrying her, and she was holding onto you and her stuffed animal like a lifeline instead of looking anywhere else—namely at Ben.

You sighed and tried to pull her back enough to see her face.

“Daddy’s gotta go to work now. Want to say goodbye?” you encouraged.

All Lila could manage was a shy look in his direction. Ben laid a gentle hand on her head, over her dark hair.

“Bye, sweetheart,” he said.

Lila didn’t answer him. She just bit her lip and stayed withdrawn.

You and Ben shared a glance. He was hiding it well behind his usual stoicism, but this was hurting him. There wasn’t much either of you could do about it now, however. You both had work to do, and the mission would have to come first.

“I’ll be online in a bit,” you told him.

First, you needed to take Lila up to daycare before Frank accompanied you to your office. There you’d be able to join the mission from your computer and put your headset on. Aside from surveillance, you were their virtual eyes on missions.

So Ben tacitly agreed, and the two of you parted ways.

You went up to the second floor to drop Lila off at daycare, where you set her onto her feet. You could see that she was quiet and almost sad, not as bright and talkative as usual. And she was clinging to your hand. You bent down the best you could in your skirt, so you could meet her eyes.

“Are you still upset with your dad?” you asked.

After a moment, Lila replied, “Daddy’s loud.”

You couldn’t help a rueful smile.

“Yeah, he can be,” you nodded. “But he’s gonna work on that, okay? He loves you very much.”

She finally smiled a little when you pressed a few sweet kisses to her cheeks. You felt a little better about leaving her with Sarah, the woman who ran the daycare center. She was kind, but well-organized, and good at her job of wrangling fifteen or so toddlers on a daily basis.

And she was hovering off to the side with a smile, waiting to shepherd Lila over to where the rest of the group were starting at the arts and crafts table.

“Okay, baby. I love you. I’m just downstairs if you need me,” you said, caressing Lila’s cheeks, brushing her hair away from her face.

She nodded and waved goodbye. Sarah then stepped in and guided the girl over to the crafts table. The other kids were already drawing and coloring with crayons and markers.

With a sigh, you knew you had to get to work. You joined Frank out in the hall.

“Did something happen this morning?” he asked. You gave him a weary look.

“Something always happens. I’ll fill you in when we hit the elevator,” you said.

“Kids are resilient. She’ll bounce back,” said Frank, when you two got off the elevator down to the basement, under the first floor. This was where the “heavy stuff” happened at the S.A.

“That’s not the point, Frank. He hasn’t snapped at me like that in a long time, and he really scared her. That’s not fucking okay,” you said. “He needs to learn to control his goddamn temper.”

He sent you a knowing glance. You rolled your eyes.

“Okay, I know I don’t always help. But in this case, I was justified,” you said. “Ben was being an ass.”

“Right,” Frank nodded. “It’s not at all that he’s worried about you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Whose side are you on?”

The man remained silent, but his stoic face wasn’t fooling you. He’d been your friend for much too long, and he knew Ben just as well…which was why you found yourself reconsidering what happened this morning.

“You really think he has a point?” you asked. “Am I working too much?”

Frank shook his head and opened the door for you into the Surveillance Department. The two of you ventured to your office, where your quadruple monitor setup was waiting for you. He also had a desk for himself, since he often spent the long hours of your day with you.

“When you were pregnant with Lila, you were on maternity leave by now,” he pointed out.

“Because we had no idea what was going to happen,” you countered. You went to your desk and started up your computer. “I had to meet with Tonya once a week, ultrasounds and blood tests all the time, making sure Lila was healthy, that I was healthy. This time around, we have a better idea of what to expect.”

For example, you were experiencing bouts of super strength once again, but it was still intermittent. Although, you pretty much never needed coffee. Maybe the supe genes coursing through your system, thanks to your unborn son, was part of the reason why you’d been able to go such long hours for these cases.

He's already brightening up my life, you thought with a little smile, holding a hand over your lower belly.

“It’s your choice,” Frank said at last. “But it is possible that Ben cares about more than just making you a suburban housewife.”

At that, you sighed. There was nothing wrong with being a housewife, you knew. It just wasn’t…you.

Once your computer and monitors were booted up, you connected to the right channels and put on your headset.

Already you could hear M.M. bitching about keeping the weapons trunk organized, not just tossing things in haphazardly.

“It’s a simple fucking system, Frenchie. You can at least abide by it,” M.M. said. “We don’t have time to be scratching our asses while you try to find a—”

“Hey, Bert and Ernie. Would you shut the fuck up already?” Ben groused.

Your mouth twitched at his grumpiness.

“A little testy this morning, ey guv?” Butcher remarked.

“Gargle my ball sack,” Ben replied, with an even grouchier deadpan than usual.

“Do you kiss your child with that mouth?” Frenchie teased.

“Nah, just your mother’s French hole,” Ben slung back. You rolled your eyes.

“All right, all right. Put the measuring tapes away,” you interrupted. “I’m online, locked on your GPS.”

“Well, if it ain’t Mrs. America herself,” Butcher drawled. “Got a lock on Slingshot’s location for us?”

“You know it,” you replied. “Sending to the group chat now. Slingshot’s been spotted entering a strip club in Chinatown.”

“Jeez. A little early for tits and booze. It’s 10:00 a.m. on a Tuesday,” said Hughie.

You heard Ben huff in amusement. “It’s never too early.”

You snorted at that.

“Right. I’ll remember that next time you fall asleep watching Family Feud,” you clipped back.

You heard the other guys trying not to laugh as they got into Butcher’s van. Part of you felt bad for teasing Ben, knowing he was already in a bad mood, but you were feeling a bit petty about what happened this morning.

You had to bite your lip against a smile, as you could picture the ill-tempered face your man was likely sporting.

And we’re off.

Lila wasn’t having a good day.

She didn’t feel like coloring, and the toys just weren’t fun today.

She just didn’t want to be here. The other kids smelled like old Cheetos and feet (especially the boys).

She missed you. And though she hadn’t wanted to admit it to you, she missed Daddy too.

Lila wanted to go home…she wanted her mom.

“I’m just downstairs if you need me,” you’d said.

Lila had a kind of plan percolating in her mind, all through the morning, and even through lunch time. She didn’t want to get in trouble, but when she’d asked Miss Sarah if she could go see you, she’d said you were at work and couldn’t come get Lila until later.

But that’s not what Mommy said, Lila thought.

After lunch, she laid on the napping mat with her pillow and blanket, even though she was wide awake. She didn’t want to nap with the other kids, even though Miss Sarah told her it was time to sleep.

Again, Lila didn’t want to be bad. She didn’t want to get in trouble either, but she really, really just wanted to see you.

And you’d said it was okay to go downstairs if she needed you, right?

Lila closed her eyes while Miss Sarah was looking, but she waited until the teacher went into her office to answer a call. Then, Lila carefully put Charlie, her stuffed dog, against her pillow, tucking the blanket up to his neck.

She crawled off her mat and snuck over to the door while Miss Sarah was distracted on her phone. Lila reached up and was just tall enough to twist the doorknob. It led her out of the room, and out into the empty hall. She then looked both ways for a clue on where to go.

She heard a ding, and looked over at a nearby pair of elevators.

The mission went more or less according to plan. Slingshot’s abilities allowed him to stretch every part of his body like elastic. It not only made him hard to catch, but even harder to maim without collateral damage.

A whole block in Chinatown was wrecked in the takedown, but your idea of ripping the cables from a nearby utility pole to electrocute him let Ben finally subdue the elastic supe. Kimiko knocked him out, and Butcher slapped some tight-ass cuffs on him and dragged him into the van. They returned with the rogue supe in custody.

You were mentally exhausted from helping them track down routes to pin down Slingshot, but you were relieved to be done. You were also satisfied that another danger to society was neutralized, for now.

You took pride in your work, and you didn’t think Ben saw that, or thought it was important. You supposed that was what upset you the most about that fight with him.

Sometimes, you wondered if he would ever truly change.

You grabbed your purse and made sure to slip in your gun and taser. You left your office and greeted Frank, who had just finished making his rounds in the building with Loco’s team. Frank joined you on the way to the elevator.

“I meant to ask you, how’s Alana doing?” you asked. Alana was his daughter, who was now in college.

“She’s changed her major yet again,” he said wryly. “This time to philosophy.”

“Philosophy? That’s interesting. What does she want to do with that?” you asked.

“No fucking clue,” he replied, hitting the button for the first floor. “I just hope she gets bored and picks something practical. Like…teaching, or dentistry.”

You shot him a bemused look. “Dentistry?”

“As much money as I put into that girl’s braces, it’d be good for her to pay it forward,” Frank said, in a surly tone that reminded you of Ben. You had to laugh.

You and Frank exited the elevator and started down the hall.

You planned to touch base with Grace Mallory on the safety measures of Slingshot’s containment before he was put into custody. The idea was to house him in a prison cell that could actually hold him until he went through the legal process.

But you’d only gotten halfway down the hall before the supe in question literally stretched past you on unnaturally long legs—in a blur of his white and blue supe suit. Your eyes widened on a gasp as you watched him head toward the elevator you’d just come off of.

“Fuckin’ hell, we’ve got a runner!” Butcher shouted from down the hall. He along with Ben, M.M., Frenchie, Hughie, and Kimiko were rushing your way.

It all happened so fast.

You registered Frank shooting out a protective arm in front of you. You turned back to see the elevator doors had opened back up, and Slingshot rushed inside. He made eye contact with you.

Then his arms shot out like rubber bands. One of them knocked Frank into the far wall. You gasped and froze on reflex.

Ben shouted your name; he was running towards you, getting closer. You were able to meet his wide eyes for a brief moment. He reached out for you, but those stretching arms closed around you first. You gasped when they slung you backwards.

You cried out in shock when your back met a surprisingly solid chest.

Meanwhile, Ben barreled the rest of the way down the hall as the elevators closed just short of his angrily furrowed face.

The stretched arms holding you were tight around your torso, making your grit your teeth as you tried to pull away. They twisted you around so you could face your captor. Or so he could see you.

His natural height was around Butcher’s—dark hair, blue eyes, angular features. He gave you what was probably meant to be a suave smile as those baby blues dragged down your body.

“Hey, baby. Nice heels,” he said. You rolled your eyes.

“So that’s why they call you Slingshot,” you said, still a bit breathless. The elevator started to move. He’d chosen the top floor. “Where do you think you’re gonna go?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he snarked. “Anywhere but here. And you’re gonna help me.”

“How? Being a human shield?”

“For a start,” he smirked down at you. He backed up a step just to take another proper look at you, and he whistled lowly. He took your chin between his sweaty fingers, making you grimace when he stroked your cheek.

“Down boy,” you said warily. “Trust me, you really don’t want to do this.”

This jackass hadn’t even realized you had a small, but noticeable baby bump.

“Why not, babe?” he grinned. “You’ve got the whole sexy librarian thing going on.”

You heard a loud creaking sound outside the elevator doors. The compartment itself came to an abrupt stop, making the lights flicker.

“What the fuck?” Slingshot muttered. His hold around you loosened.

You had an idea of what just happened, with grim satisfaction. You also took advantage of his distraction and managed to slip a hand into your purse.

You pulled out your taser. Slingshot noticed and tried to grab you again, but the elevator somehow started to move in reverse, about a foot a time. It made both of you lose your balance and utter sounds of surprise.

As soon as you regained your footing, you aimed the taser at the most sensitive place you could think of—the supe’s dick and balls.

His howls of pain were loud enough to reach Ben, Frank, and the rest of the team on the third floor. Ben’s face became edged with a smirk.

He kept pulling the elevator cables down until the compartment’s doors were in reach. There he grabbed the doors and pulled them open with his bare hands, crunching metal under his fingers. The moment he saw you, the relief in your eyes, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out, into his arms.

Slingshot was angry, though he managed to recover, rip off the taser’s metal prongs and wires, and evade Kimiko, M.M., and even Butcher when he slithered his way out of the elevator and around their guns. The bullets ricocheted off the walls, and off his body as they followed him down the hall.

Ben focused on you. He brushed his half-gloved hands over your shoulders and sides while he quickly looked you over. There was worry in his eyes, disguised as anger. You caught your breath and held a protective hand over your lower belly out of reflex.

“You okay?” he said, but you were already nodding before he asked.

“I’m fine,” you replied. “Just get him. I’ll get Lila.”

Ben nodded. He shot one last firm look at Frank, who was back at your side. Frank laid a hand on your shoulder as Ben took off down the hall to find Slingshot.

“The stairs are safer at this point,” Frank said.

“I would have to agree,” you said, steeling yourself with a breath.

While you and Frank went downstairs to the second floor, you didn’t see the second elevator ding, its doors opening to your daughter, who ambled out alone. She looked one way down the hall, but hearing her father’s voice carrying down the opposite way, she started venturing in that direction.

If she couldn’t find you, then she’d find her dad.

“What the hell do you mean you lost her?” you shouted at Sarah, the woman who was supposed to be looking after your daughter. “How do you lose a three-year-old at nap time? What kind of incompetent fuck are you?”

Yes, Ben had unfortunately rubbed off on you.

Sarah was in tears by the time you were not even halfway done, but Frank calmed you down with another touch to your shoulder. You had tears of panic stinging in your eyes when you met his gaze, your mouth trembling.

“I just radioed in and put Loco and the rest of the security team on looking for Lila. She can’t have gotten far,” he said.

“Come on! Keep up with me, old man,” Slingshot taunted at Ben. His super flexibility allowed him to keep several steps ahead, dodging any attempts to grab him and any weapons fired with easy dips and playful deflection.

“When I get my hands on you, you flaccid fuck, you won’t know your ass from your ball sack,” Ben growled.

But he crashed into the wall when he took a corner too hard trying to tackle the other supe. He picked himself up from the debris of crumbled wall and plaster, ignoring Kimiko’s offer of a helping hand.

“Big fucking talk from the walking AARP commercial,” Slingshot snorted. He turned around and once again prepared to run. “Try not to shatter a hip, asshole!”

He took off down another bend in the hallway. Meanwhile, Ben shook himself off and joined the others in running after this cocksucker. Ben looked over at Butcher.

“What’s your fucking plan?” he grated out.

Butcher seemed to have an idea growing in his mind. “What’d she do to him in that elevator?”

“Tased his dick, by the sound of it,” Ben replied. He knew what weapons you kept in your purse, and that you'd know better than to fire a gun in an enclosed elevator. Butcher snapped his fingers.

“Electricity. Bloody brilliant,” he said. He pointed at Hughie and grabbed Frenchie by the collar. “You, with me. I’ve got an idea. The rest of ya, get him pinned down.”

“Easier said than done, motherfucker,” M.M. grumbled. But he followed Ben and Kimiko to find their errant supe.

Slingshot played a cocky game, but inside, there was fear.

They’d caught him once, and now, this building was crawling with security, let alone the assholes chasing him.

He was panting for breath when he nearly ran straight into…a kid?

She was wandering around, trying to open a locked door. He skidded to a stop in front of her, and she looked up at him wide-eyed. He tilted his head. She was a cute little thing with brown hair and green eyes. She wore a blouse with cartoon ducks on it over her jeans and sunshine-yellow shoes.

“Hey, cutie. Where you going?” asked Slingshot. “Are you lost?”

“Looking for my mom,” she answered, a bit timidly. The supe gave her an easy smile; inside, he knew he’d just found his collateral, and his ticket out of here.

“Okay. What’s your name?” he asked.

“L…Lila,” she said.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he said, with all due charm. He struck a pose, with his fists held up to his waist. “I can help you, Lila. I’m a superhero.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? Like Daddy?”

“Oh, yeah. Your dad and I are friends.” Never mind that he had no fucking clue who her daddy was. He offered her his hand.

Now, Lila knew not to talk to strangers, but if he knew her dad…

After a moment of reluctant indecision, she took his hand. Slingshot tapered a smirk into a more friendly smile.

“Let’s go find him.”

Ben was ahead of the pack, but he soon came to an abrupt stop with wider eyes. He finally found Slingshot, except he had Ben’s daughter by the hand. Slingshot wore a cocky grin as he took the child up into his arms.

“Hey, guys. Who’s this little peanut belong to?” he asked. “Said she was looking for her daddy.”

Ben’s breath turned to lead in his lungs. Lila’s eyes lit up with recognition when she saw him.

“Daddy!”

Ben’s softer gaze shifted from her, hardening once it reached the other supe.

“Let her go,” he growled lowly.

Slingshot’s grin deepened incredulously as he laughed.

“Oh shit, she’s yours?” he exclaimed. “This’s just too fucking perfect.”

“Lila!” your shout came from behind Ben, and you stepped around M.M. and Kimiko.

Ben held out a hand to keep you at bay. He kept his eyes on Slingshot, but Ben heard your gasp. His stomach dipped, knowing your worry had to be reaching new heights as you took in the situation.

“Ben,” you uttered.

“I’ve got this,” he said to you.

“You don’t got shit, old man,” Slingshot snapped. He shot you a smirk next. “She’s your bitch? Figures.”

“Just let her go,” you implored. You had tears brimming in your eyes. “We can negotiate your release if you promise to be more responsible.”

Ben shot you a glance then. He didn’t intend for this fucker to live, let alone walk the streets of New York again. But he supposed any bluff was worth it at this point.

Meanwhile, seeing the distress on her parents’ faces made Lila begin to break down into tears. She whined, pushing against the supe holding her, wanting to be let go.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Slingshot cooed. “You’re just gonna take a little trip with me.”

“No!” a ragged shout tore from your throat when he took a few backward steps down the hall.

Ben held you back from following him, all while he tensed with rage. M.M. and Kimiko were also poised to try and stop the supe. But Slingshot tightened his hold on Lila in warning.

“Back the fuck off,” he demanded. “Once I get to JFK and get my ass on a plane, maybe, maybe you see your daughter aga—”

He had to stop short, as he sensed something just outside of his peripheral vision.

It was Butcher, coming at him to swing a baseball bat at the supe’s head.

You screamed in protest, but Butcher was relying on the supe’s reflexes to dodge the bat. He wasn’t disappointed. Slingshot dodged. Though in his distraction, it gave Ben the opening he needed to step into his orbit and land a solid punch across Slingshot’s face.

It not only cracked his jaw, but also caught him off guard enough for his grip on the child to loosen. Ben grabbed his daughter and turned her away in a protective embrace.

Then Frenchie brought Slingshot down with the prongs of a massive taser clipping onto his nipples. He jolted and screamed—and went down hard on the tile floor.

While Hughie and M.M. ushered in the rest of the security team to swarm in and take the supe into custody, you raced forward to Ben and Lila in tears.

Lila was also crying and clinging to Ben’s neck, shaking like a leaf.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said quietly, so only she could hear. Lila whimpered and burrowed tighter against his neck.

Tears streamed down your face, but you tried to breathe through it. You rubbed her back and checked her over, making sure she wasn’t hurt.

For Ben, the force of his relief was pounding in his ears. He briefly closed his eyes as he held his daughter closer.

When he opened them again, he met your gaze. You couldn’t speak. All you could do was grab onto his wrist for support. He gave that to you, wrapping his free arm around your waist and pulling you into his side.

“Frank,” he said. His voice was a sharp command. The other man was ready to carry out whatever Ben asked. He also looked relieved to see that Lila was all right.

“Pull the car around,” said Ben. Frank nodded, and went to do just that.

Ben turned to watch in satisfaction when Frenchie and M.M. hauled up a still twitching Slingshot. Butcher slapped a pair of electroshock handcuffs on him that would keep him better contained this time—courtesy of the S.A. armory. He nodded over at Ben, and the latter returned the gesture.

You missed it all, as you were preoccupied with comforting your daughter.

“It’s okay, honey. We’re going home,” you gently whispered to Lila, who was still hiding her face in Ben’s neck. You shared a look with him, and he gave you a short nod. His hand moved to the small of your back, both protective and possessive as the three of you moved towards the garage exit.

There Frank waited with the car that would take your family home.

You watched Ben with the beginning of tears brimming in your eyes. You managed to hold them at bay while he set Lila down in her bed. You’d just finished giving her a bath and helping her get into her pajamas after a quiet, somewhat tense dinner.

Lila still seemed upset in her unusually quiet mood, which you knew was understandable. Ben sat at her bedside and soothed a hand over her head, brushing her cheek with his thumb.

“You’ve had a crazy friggin’ day, huh?” he asked. Lila didn’t want to look at him, but he encouraged it with gentle fingers brushing her chin, teasing the tip of her nose. She hinted at a smile and finally met his eyes. He smiled back at her, if more reserved. But his expression turned serious again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. He could see it. She had been more or less fine throughout dinner, but now she’d turned quiet and withdrawn again. She only got like that when she was upset about something.

Lila toyed with the ear of her stuffed animal, Charlie. Frank had retrieved it for her from the daycare.

“Sorry I talked to strangers,” Lila mumbled.

You had to bite the inside of your lip so you wouldn’t cry. You came over to sit on the other side of her bed. You sniffed and shook your head, but Ben beat you to what you wanted to say.

“You’re not in trouble, all right? We’re not mad,” he said.

Lila’s lower lip wobbled. Ben sighed and picked her up, plopping her down in his lap. She hugged him as tight as she could and he held her back, warm and secure.

“You know I’m always gonna be there to keep you safe. You never have to worry or be afraid,” he said.

You carded your fingers through Lila’s hair so she knew you were there too. Usually, the roles were reversed, where you were doing the comforting and Ben was the solid support. Right now though, you just didn’t have the words. Not when guilt was eating you from the inside out.

Fortunately, your husband did have the words, after he heaved a sigh.

“I might raise my voice, sometimes, but uh…you never have to be afraid of me either. Okay?” he said.

"Mhmm," Lila agreed.

You laid hand on Ben's arm, gently squeezing. He met your gaze, and knew what you were prodding with just that look in your eyes.

Briefly, he hesitated before he looked back down at his daughter.

"I'm sorry I scared you," he said.

Lila nodded against his chest. “It's okay.”

“Good,” he said, laying a kiss on her forehead. “All right, you ready to go to bed?”

She clung to him and made a sound of refusal.

You were finally able to crack a smile. You leaned down by her ear.

“You want Daddy to read you a story first?” you asked.

Ben shot you a look at the way you volunteered him for that. He was tired and drained.

But one hopeful, shiny look from his daughter, and he folded like a deck of cards.

Later, when Lila was asleep, you tucked her in one last time and Ben turned out the light. He kept the door cracked open, just in case she called for either one of you tonight.

Then, somehow, you and Ben ended up in the kitchen instead of the bedroom. As exhausted as both of you were, you needed this moment to decompress, with one of your old favorite pastimes…

He broke out the whiskey while you found an appropriate midnight snack, and then a seat with him at the breakfast bar. The two of you shared a companionable silence, as well as a large bag of sea salt and vinegar chips.

That was sort of how you felt inside.

“Today can’t happen again,” Ben said, breaking the silence.

You looked over at him, but he was looking beyond you. Maybe so he didn’t have to show you how deeply he’d been rattled. You knew him far too well for that.

“Of course not,” you replied. And you released a sigh. “So here’s what I’m thinking. From now on I’ll work from home, so I can watch Lila until she goes to preschool.”

Ben got ready to argue, but you held up a hand. The other went to rest over your belly. You had scheduled an ultrasound with Dr. Tonya Baker tomorrow, just to make sure all was well after this ordeal.

“I already plan to take my maternity leave when this guy rolls into town,” you said with a smile. “Then, when I’m ready, and if it’s feasible, I can continue to work from home until all the kids are in school.”

Ben’s lips twitched humorlessly. He should’ve known you’d continue making this a negotiation. He set down his glass, and he reached out to slide a hand over yours, across your belly. He took in a deep breath. But when he let it go, you sensed you still hadn’t convinced him.

“Listen, I know you don’t want me to work—” you began.

“It’s not that,” he said. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said it. “It’s not.”

Despite yourself, you read the sincerity in his words. It had you pausing, waiting for him to continue.

“You know damn well…that just being around me is dangerous,” he said. “To you, and to Lila. But you being connected with Supe Affairs, working these missions, even from behind a desk, it’s a fucking risk. It’ll always be a risk.”

You considered that with new understanding. You took his hand with both of yours.

“Ben, this life, this work…it’s the same for me as it is for you. It’s all I know how to do. It’s what I’m wired for. So that’s why it’s hard for me to turn down that dial,” you explained. “But look, I understand what you’re saying. Believe me, I do. And today…today was…”

Your breath hitched as tears stung in your eyes. Ben shook his head and tugged you closer.

“Come ‘ere,” he said.

You left your chair to go to him. You stood between his long legs while he pulled you into a warm embrace. Logically, you knew that what happened today wasn’t your fault. However, part of you still felt like a failure of a mother for underestimating the risks of having your daughter at the S.A.

You should’ve known better, you berated yourself. And yet, it was Ben’s words that stopped your train of thought.

“Today wasn't on you,” he said. "Get that thought outta your head."

He knew you well too, and this was one of those times. You wept harder against him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. He held you, comforted you until you began to calm down.

“Take your maternity leave early,” he said. His deep voice was a rumble. “You’re going to have your hands full with Lila when I’m not here. Unless we hire someone to help you.”

It was an idea you could consider, but who could you trust? That was the question.

Maybe your mother? you thought. You knew she was thinking of retiring from her job in a couple of years anyway.

You sighed and slipped your fingers through Ben’s hair. Your hand came to rest on the back of his neck as you leaned against him.

When Lila came into your lives, you had been so excited to start a family that you hadn’t considered the non-physical side effects. Namely, the sacrifices you would have to make in order to keep your family safe.

Before you met Ben, your job was your life. But today reminded you that your daughter…and your unborn son, were more important to you than your job. No matter how important that job might be for the rest of the world.

“Let’s talk about this more tomorrow,” you said, shaking your head. “I can’t think anymore.”

After a beat of hesitation, he agreed with a nod. Like so many battles before, whatever compromise you and Ben finally reached would be hard won. His hand found your cheek and caressed your skin.

“You still try my fucking patience, you know that?” he muttered.

You smiled tiredly. “Did you really expect that to change?”

He scoffed. Even so, he guided you off his shoulder so that he could claim your lips. His kiss tasted like the burn of whiskey. You met his demanding lips in kind, though you were the first one to part from him slowly.

“I love you,” you whispered a reminder.

Ben nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead. He lingered there for a moment, as if he could pause the world for a while.

He eventually let out a breath through his nose and allowed himself to be honest.

“I love you too,” he said.

With that shared understanding, he stood from his seat. He drained the last of his glass before he bent to gather you up into his arms. You yelped in surprise, clinging to his shoulders.

“Time for some rest,” Ben said. There was a certain smile on his face, gentler than usual.

He forged a path towards the bedroom. You sighed and laid your head against his chest.

For once, you didn’t argue with him.

AN: I've been wanting to put this one out for a while now. 💚💚 I so hope you enjoyed this chapter of the BMD verse! Do you like how their little family is evolving? 😘

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Aside from the major one-shots and mini series within the BMD-verse, there are some fun Imagines and Headcanons as well. Remember to check back on the series masterlist for more BMD stories.

▶️ Break Me Down Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

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copperbadge · 1 month ago

Note

Not sure if this is a first for you, but I recently got a tattoo inspired by your words. When reading your Discworld fic, Patterns, the closing line just STUCK in my head. "Sooner or later, the thread becomes the pattern" is such a crafter friendly version of Annie Dillard's "how we spend our days is how we spend our lives" and it stuck in my head. I'm in the process of leaving a job that I've been in for almost 20 years (which in reality was probably about 5+ years too long at this point). As part of my commemoration of the transition, I got a needle and thread tattoo to remind myself that the thread does in fact become the pattern and the daily choices I make shape my life as a whole. So thanks!

Oh, that's awesome Anon! I believe someone out there has a Si Creabis, Fit Redunda tattoo, but this may be the first ink inspired by one of my stories (my memory is bad enough that I may be mistaken, but in any case I always love to hear about such things). It's lovely that it's from one of the earliest ones, the Discworld stories that got me back into fandom.

There are things I'd maybe write differently in some of those, with the advantage of time and skill -- that was written over twenty years ago, and some of the stuff about police work at the start could use an update -- but the general sentiment from the ending is sound, and I certainly wouldn't rewrite that line in particular. It holds up, and I'm pleased it had such an impact!

#tattoos #fandom #discworld

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mrsnancywheeler · 10 months ago

Text

let me down easy // finnick odair x f. reader

based off this blurb

summary: finnick pushed himself away, isolated himself, and you're slipping through his fingers like sand.

masterlist

3.8k words

warnings: angst, a tiny bit of fluff at the end, a little smutty but also very brief, mental illness, insecurity, paranoia, allusions to cheating (no one is actually cheating), slightly mean!finnick, self destructive behavior on all sides, more insecurities, arguments, feeling isolated, slight blood and injury, female rage things, male masturbation, unedited, no use of y/n, brief mentions of vomiting, girls girls all around, annie cresta my beloved being a girl girl, people pleaser reader

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Once every day had felt like it was full of sunlight, even if there were ups and downs you always had each other by the end of it. Now you weren't even sure if you had yourself, let alone Finnick. Worst of all you had no idea what you'd done wrong, at first you chalked it up to how he'd just returned from the Capitol. But usually his isolation was a day at the most before he'd succumb to your comfort. Instead it had been nearly a month of radio silence.

He stopped the way he'd pepper your face with kisses to wake you up and bring you to the kitchen where he'd have made breakfast, telling you mindless stories about his morning swim. Now if he did anything for you it felt robotic, out of necessity, there was no helping you with your hair, having fun picking out your outfits, he was barely around. Never would you have thought you could be such an outcast in your own home, your own relationship.

At first you'd thought you just weren't doing enough, that he needed some extra love to help him open up. Reluctantly you'd fully wake yourself up when you felt him rise for his swim, take up the position of making him breakfast instead. Busying yourself with his favorites until he returned and you put on your best smile when he did, hopeful it would be somewhat successful.

“Good morning!” You greeted and were met with a confused look, a nod. You'd always hated getting up this early yet here you were and he did nothing.

“I have to take a shower." He muttered and was up the stairs. It was a disappointing resolution, but then your hopes had still been high. So you kept making his favorites throughout the next few days, scattering gifts for him throughout the house, writing notes to hide where he might find them, desperate to show him how much you loved him.

“Where are you going?" Your voice startled him and he slowly turned his head towards you.

Finnick's voice was so dry, rigid, “Fishing."

“Oh, let me get my shoes on, I'll come with!" Bright smiles, you reminded yourself when it felt like wavering.

“I'd rather go alone."

“Right." It wanted to falter so bad, “How long are you gonna be gone? I could make you lunch to go or something."

“I'm okay."

You fidgeted with your fingers, “Yeah, okay, well, um, have fun." Then he was gone, without a kiss, even a hug goodbye. Come to think of it there hadn't been any at all for a while, not even in the morning which is something he'd always do. So after a few days failing with those attempts you'd convinced yourself of a different reason.

“Annie, be honest with me, do you think I'm pretty?" The two of you had been out in the garden of Victors Village and she seemed taken aback.

“Honey, of course you're pretty. You're beautiful, what brought this on?" She dropped what she was doing to look at you.

You darted around the specifics, “What about the way I dress, is it too frumpy?"

“No! There's nothing wrong with anything about you." Her voice was so soft and she felt like the only person you could talk to now that Finnick had pushed himself away from you. “What's going on?"

You felt yourself finally crying all the held back tears you'd hid for the moments alone, “What if he's found someone prettier and more exciting?” You sobbed out and Annie hugged you.

"Finnick worships the ground you walk on, he'd never do that.”

"He barely even talks to me anymore, Annie. It's like I don't exist.”

“He's just going through a rough patch, it's not your fault."

Regardless of what Annie said, you disagreed. He must have had someone else, but you couldn't confront him about it. No, if you did then it would become real and he'd leave you for them. There had to be someone else taking on his hardships and loving him the way he'd once let you. So you bought new makeup, new lingerie, new clothes, tried to feel more attractive, more desirable. Yet it didn't seem like he even noticed.

You'd waited for his return all day, he'd left so early you hadn't even seen him. You made dinner praying that he'd see the effort you made, and find you irresistible once again. Of course, this effort seemed to be in vain.

“Welcome home, Finn!" You greeted when he walked through the front door, pained by the sound of your own faux bubbly voice. You put a plate down in front of his usual seat.

“Thanks." He mumbled and you smiled cheerfully. Perhaps you'd been too solemn and he'd prefer someone who exuded more sunshine-like behavior. “How was your day?" His voice was sharp, curt, but it was a conversation nonetheless. Always better than nothing.

“It was good!" You lied through your teeth, there hadn't been a single moment where your brain hadn't been infested with the thought of him pushing you away, him with someone else. It was something you desiped, you preferred to be in the moment. When you had been confident in yours and Finnick's relationship you could immerse yourself in the company of others, enjoy menial tasks with humming and daydreams, but now the isolation haunted your mind. “Annie and I planted some new flowers and cut some that recently finished blooming. I finally changed our vases out." He didn't even glance around, just kept eating. Your Finnick had always made an effort to look around, praise you for anything you did, he took pride in you, now the only thing he took pride in was being able to avoid you.

He curtly nodded his head in response and you felt like you might snap. Especially as the silence persisted, nothing except the sounds of the house and his fork clinking on the plate. You chewed at your bottom lip, leg bouncing up and down waiting for the smallest bit of conversation, but nothing came. Eventually you shot out of your seat, grabbed your plate, which you were sure you wouldn't be able to stomach, and began cleaning up dinner. Hands gripping each dish so hard as if to contain all the rage you'd been repressing.

“I can clean up." Finnick murmured as he rose.

Being lazy was another thing you thought could be a reason. He did so much for you and whatever you had to offer must not have been enough. Yes, he'd always insisted that you should just be his pretty girl that he could look at when he did the tasks, but in secret he must have just wanted you to resist and do more. So you vehemently shook your head, “No, I've got it!" Your voice was strained and several pitches too high to sound natural.

“It's fine, I can do it.” How dare he have the gall to sound annoyed with you.

“I've got it Finnick, just go to bed!" Or whatever the fuck else is he does to be away from you. You regretted how snappy you were, he wanted someone easy going, not how uptight you were being. But god, hate that man for how he looked like a wounded puppy dog. “Sorry." You muttered, only partially genuine. Harshly grabbing a glass to clean, hands gripping around it, so harshly it seemed that when you went to put it to dry, it shattered in your hand. Your reaction was delayed as you stood there in disbelief, you hated your life, “Fuck.”

Then his hand was on your back and you involuntarily jerked at the contact you hadn't felt for so long. “You're bleeding." How the hell was his voice still so stony, a mystery you'd never know the answer too. It sent tingles up your spine the way his hand was on your back, you missed his touch. He led you to the bathroom where he carefully tended to the cuts in your hand. Carefully taking out the pieces of glass and although you occasionally winced, it was like your brain couldn't comprehend the pain over the buzzing about his hand touching yours. But once he bandaged it up the touch was gone and so was he with a, “I'll clean up."

Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him, fuck him. But you hated being angry with him when he was probably going through something, he'd struggled so much and just needed help. Was it really excusable though when it was tearing you apart to be in all of this. You got up and without a second thought walked straight out the front door. Feet guiding you to the comfort of the beach. Of course it invoked memories of all the better times spent with Finnick, but out here at least you had the ocean. It has started to rain and you didn't care. Walking out into the sea, as far as you could touch, and letting the freedom of the waves surround you. And you screamed, at the sky, at the waters, into the night. Trying so desperately to let go of the aggression, so you could keep trying. Inhaling the salt air before you walked back inside, you could do this. Every relationship had trials and tribulations, but you could be stronger, stick together.

As you were walking back, Finnick was jogging towards you, “Are you okay?" There was actual emotion in his voice, you longed to be privileged to it more often.

“Yeah."

“I thought I… " He trailed off, hand running through his hair. The way he looked like he might cry sparked guilt in you, but also a sick pleasure that he actually cared. “You're gonna get sick." Just as quickly his tone returned to being straight-laced.

You didn't care, if you were sick maybe he would take care of you. So you walked inside and he said nothing. You showered and changed, you'd gotten a new nightgown that left little to the imagination. Maybe you could get a rise out of him, get him to touch you more. But he seemed to be fast asleep by the time you left the bathroom, so you slipped into bed beside him. In the past he'd always sleep with his arms around you, but now you slept beside each other rather than with one another. It left you cold, despite the blankets, which were barely there as he'd always been a blanket hog, which you used to tease him for, but was fine because you were attached to him. Now you laid there and felt yourself crying. You cursed yourself for it, not right now, but you couldn't stop. So you covered your mouth with a hand as you sobbed into it.

The next morning you felt him wake, but there was no energy to make breakfast. You were exhausted and it hadn't made him love you again anyways. So you drifted back off until the sound of floorboards creaking when he returned woke you up. You sat up in bed as he entered the bedroom. “Morning, Finn." The smile you worked hard to maintain was back.

“Morning." He mumbled and then his eyes faltered on you. That's when you remembered the nightgown, it was a relief for something to keep his eyes on you. ‘Love me, even if it's just for my body, love me in some way.’ Your brain begged to no avail. “Shower." He slowly said even though he'd very obviously grown hard.

You felt humiliated, completely embarrassed to be dressed the way you were and him to still not want you. It made you want to cry again, but you had to persist. Rising to get dressed until you heard your name. It took you a second to process that he was moaning it, you were right there and he was getting himself off to the thought of you when he could've just had the actual you. That had to be a new type of low. You hadn't even dared to touch yourself no matter how badly you wanted him because you knew nothing you did could match the things he'd made you feel. Yet here he was, so easily jerking off. There was nothing you could do except seethe as you got ready for your day. At least it was your name and not some other girls.

You were in the kitchen when he walked downstairs, “Going to the market." He announced and you got up from your chair.

“I'm coming too." It wasn't a question.

"No, it's okay. I've just got a couple things to grab.”

"So do I, so I'll just come along to grab them. You don't even have to stick by me, I'm just going.” You were exasperated. Honestly you hadn't left the confines of Victors Village for a while, besides when you tried to recall your look, and this would be a good opportunity to see if he was being honest. There was nothing you really had to get, but at least you'd somewhat had his company.

He said nothing but waited as you put on your sandals and then the two of you set off. The silence was deafening as you two walked, your Finnick would always hold your hand, would've taken you from booth to booth and ramble on endlessly, buy anything you glanced at with interest, but now he stood too far away for your hands to even brush by each other. The bustling of the market was a relief and for the first time in a long time you naturally smiled. Although it was jarring how quickly Finnick put on a smile, made conversation with all these people when he hadn't blessed you with the same thing. In fact, it instantly dampened your mood.

“Haven't seen you in so long, missed seeing that pretty smile!" All your favorite vendors gushed and you'd smile, make small talk. Even if everything made you think of Finnick. When was the last time he'd called you pretty? When was the last time he kissed you?

“You look a little sad, are you alright?" And you'd insist you were just feeling a little under the weather. You'd somewhat kept your distance from Finnick until you saw him laughing with a girl in the market. When was the last time he'd laughed with you? Is this what he did, found pretty girls in the market, charmed them, and went back home with them?

You'd slowly approached and showed fake interest in one of her necklaces. “They're real pearls." She said. She was so pretty, stunning. What did she have that you didn't? You hummed, smiling and without a word, Finnick was handing you money.

‘I don't want your money, I want you to pay attention to me.’ You thought and shook your head, “I don't need your money, Finn." The only thing you'd want from him was something he'd pick out because he wanted to give it to you, something he'd always done if you hadn't been there with him. Showing up at home with little treasures to show off to you. He looked at you quizzically, it wasn't like you had any money of your own on you.

“Is this your girlfriend?" The woman asked, her voice was sweet like sugar, you were too gruff, that's what you were missing.

Right now though, your voice was breathy, anxious. “Yeah." The woman must have been able to sense something off because she looked at you with pity. Finnick left the money on the counter by you regardless of what you said and walked off. You sighed.

“I'm sorry, I didn't know."

You gave a sad smile, “It's okay, not your fault." You picked the money up, ready to go find him.

“He's just a guy, even if he's Finnick Odair, don't let him dim your spark." It should've been encouraging, except you knew you loved him too much to ever leave him.

You found him, chatting and smiling as he bought produce. You missed his smile. “Here." You said quietly, handing him his money.

“Where's the necklace?"

“Didn't need it." You didn't care about needing it, you care that he would rather have you buy things for yourself then make you feel valued.

He huffed, like you were frustrating him, annoying him. “Okay, use it to find something else then. You said you weren't going to stick around me." You couldn't stop yourself from physically recoiling from his venom.

“I just came to tell you I was going home." You said weakly, staring at the ground. “Have fun." Your voice cracked slightly and you didn't even bother looking up as you walked home. Immediately settling yourself into bed where you refused to move. Eventually he came home, something clicked onto the dresser table, the sun went down and you stayed put. When he crawled into bed the most movement you made was flipping onto your side to have the protection of your back facing him.

For days it was a cycle of laying in bed, only rising once he left, usually to stand under the burning hot water in the shower until your skin felt raw. Then immediately returning back to bed. He'd return, put something on the dresser, and you'd stay still. Eventually one night he'd come home and sat at your feet, mattress dipping. “We need to talk."

Your hands clamped over your ears, this was it, he was done with you, all that effort for nothing. The anxiety knotted in your stomach, “I'm gonna be sick." You forced yourself up and found yourself throwing up in the toilet, Finnick holding your hair back.

“Hey, it's okay. It's okay, sweet girl." When you were done you said nothing as you brushed your teeth, praying he would leave and forget whatever bad news he was surely bearing. But he didn't, he waited and sat on the bed, waiting for you. Who exited, arms crossed, trying not to cry.

“Please don't break up with me." It was pathetic to beg for but he stood up, looking bewildered.

“No, no, no, I'm not gonna break up with you, sweet girl. I wouldn't even think of it." His hands cradled your face and you melted into them.

Finally you let the tears fall, "Then what are we talking about?”

"I've been so terrible to you, a terrible partner, a terrible person. I…” He took a deep breath in, "I had a rough time in the Capitol, I always do, especially last time though. And I knew you would be able to tell and try to help, but it was easier for me to just block you out so I didn't have to deal with it. Because it hurts to think about." He was crying and it made your heart ache. "And I took you for granted. I didn't try to be there for you, I was selfish and I can't make up for it enough. I will spend the rest of my life making up for it.”

You were both sobbing and he pressed his forehead to yours. His hands were so warm, his touch was so perfect. "I want to help you.”

"I know.” He pulled his forehead away, putting his hands on your shoulders. "I need you to tell me how you felt. Not the sweet way you usually explain things, be honest, so honest.

You shook your head, “No, it's okay. It was just miscommunication."

“No, I think I nearly broke you and everybody else noticed before I did. I need to know your raw feelings, so I can attempt to make it up to you.” He let go of your shoulders and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I thought you were cheating on me.” You said quietly, anxiously playing with your fingers. He already looked hurt, "Like you found someone else because I wasn't, I don't know, fun enough, pretty enough, hardworking enough. And you didn't want me to do anything with you ever or notice anything I did for you." You took a deep breath, you could feel yourself getting angrily worked up and he could tell.

“If you're angry, be angry." He said and you obeyed.

“And I bought new clothes for you, changed my makeup routine, smiled more, made all your favorites, woke up earlier, tried to take on burdens and you said nothing. Do you know how lonely I was? How bad that made me feel about myself? One day you weren't letting me lift a finger, telling me you loved me, now pretty I was, and the next I thought I'd never hear any of that again, let alone have you touch me. No kisses, or hugs, you didn't even hold me when we slept! And you were so closed off and sometimes mean on top of that and all I wanted was your attention. Until finally I gave up because at least even if you weren't really with me, I still had you, and I didn't want you to leave me just because I found out there was someone else, which is so fucked. And then I thought, maybe at the very least, he’ll have me for my body, I had new lingerie, I tried and you didn't give a fuck. No, you got yourself off in the goddamn bathroom and I was right here!” Your voice had risen and your inhales were sharp between the ranting, "And everytime I hated what you were doing to me, I'd feel bad because what you've been through is so much worse and I should still try to be there for you. So I tried and then you'd be annoyed with me and it was like torture. And I swear to god, if you ever do that again, I'll leave.” A weight lifted off of your chest and he hugged you.

“I'm so sorry, I won't ever do it again, I love you so much, you're so pretty and kind and I need you in my life." You held onto him like he would slip away, kissing away your tears that were falling even though he was also crying. He held you until the sobbing had mostly subsided, “You know I bought you all these stupid gifts when you were laying there, thinking it would make you feel better, but I don't even think you noticed." He chuckled and you turned your head, not wanting to tear away from him. All you could see was the necklace from where you were standing. “Not that it would've done anything after all the time I spent letting the castle crumble around us.

"Thank you.” It was muttered and then he tried to pull out of the hug which made you whine. Trying to cling on forever.

His hand tilted your chin towards him, “You wanna put one of those sets on that you got for me so I can show you how pretty you are and how sorry I am for neglecting my sweet girl?"

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

sorry y'all angst is my default settings. thank you for reading, comments, likes, reblogs, feedbacks is all super appreciated. asks and requests are open, love you all, sorry again 💋

taglist: @wowzabowza69

#wanda 💋#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x reader angst #finnick odair fanfic #finnick fanfic #finnick x you #finnick x reader #finnick odair smut #finnick odair imagine #finnick imagine #finnick odair x reader smut

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ssavaart · 10 months ago

Text

Happy Friday All!

In early 2020 (before Covid), I was painting larger paintings like this with Acryla-Gouache. I was really enjoying the medium.

I was inspired by a couple of photos by Annie Bertram on Deviant Art and asked permission to use them for reference.

Since I was just doing these for myself... I had NO plan. No test drawings. No layouts. I just started drawing on a large piece of paper and figured it out as I went.

Because of this... I never really figured out what to do with the hand on the left.

So... it just kind of disappeared.

I may go back and add it in later, I think.

But, for now... it's always a reminder of a time where I just broke out the paints and... played.

A couple months later... Covid hit and it was 3 years until I did my next large painting (the Gothic Vampire).

(Note: I can't find a reply from the photographer regarding permission or not. My memory is I heard back. But I can't find it.)

I DID hear from the model Theresa Fractale, a couple of years later, who was VERY upset that I had sold some postcards of the painting without her permission.

I was mortified. I hadn't even considered reaching out to the model. I offered her and Annie Bertram all of the profits I made from the sales, but she wasn't satisfied... and we left it at that.

These things DO happen with artists. Sometimes people claim you've "stolen" their art or style or likeness. And sometimes they have legitimate reason to do so.

Me, personally... I believe that artists should use ALL of the world around them for inspiration and if it is HEAVILY influenced by one artist or work of art... CREDIT them.

But change it. Don't directly copy it (unless you're studying someone's work... in which case... copy away).

But always credit.

I believe I REFERENCED the photos above, but didn't copy them.

But, I DID heavily reference them and, honestly, had NO intention of selling it (I still own the painting) or prints (I had only sold a few postcards before being contacted by the model... then stopped).

In any case... if the model or the photographer is unhappy with me selling prints... I don't sell prints. It's that simple.

Their work directly inspired MY work and while I feel that I've changed it enough to be unique... I don't want to cause another artist harm in any way.

Every artist is different. Some are open to sharing their art (like me) and others are very protective of their art.

But, there are no RULES to art. There is no such thing as "cheating" in art. There IS copyright LAW. And that is theft.

But that law ONLY (as far as I know) works if you are SELLING a copy of someone else's work. Profiting from it.

Not for learning. Not for practice. And not for posting online.

Just please... PLEASE credit the artist you're copying. Tell people why you are copying.

Nowadays, if I'm going to do a painting I plan on making prints of, I either use stock photography I've paid for or I get permission and pay the rights holder.

But, this is ONLY for pieces I want to sell prints of.

You do NOT need permission to use photo reference or even copy another artist's work for your portfolio or to post online.

Credit them. Share your inspiration with others. Tell them why you copied the works

But you don't need permission simply to make art. Ever.

Art should be shared. Copied. Studied. And most of all... enjoyed.

Sending Big Hugs from the Hobbit Hole. ♥♥♥

Scott

#art #traditional art #artists on tumblr #drawing #art nouveau #fantasy art #gouache painting #acryla gouache #annie bertram

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bloodwrittenletters · 3 months ago

Text

LOVE, LOVE, LOVE!

pairing . . . jason grace x fem!reader

the cassette playing . . . so american! olivia rodrigo

the letter reads . . . some headcanons about you and your cute boyfriend: jason grace!

warnings . . . none!

a/n . . . i literally can't write anything to save my life these few days, so jason grace headcanons! this beautiful blonde boy deserves more love.

✴ he's the type of guy who would ask "can i be your boyfriend?"

✴ even before you started dating, he would go OUT OF HIS WAY (and everyone else's) to give you what you wanted.

✴ learns an specific type of hair routine to help you.

⤷ would ask piper, hazel, or annabeth for hair care products or how to take care of your hair type.

✴ the moment you guys start dating, all of his closet is yours.

⤷ you eventually start to feel bad and tell him he can also wear your clothes if he wants, a week later you find him wearing your pink top.

⤷ "i got stuck, but i look way too hot in this... can you help me take this off?"

✴ everything he makes in arts and crafts, he shows it to you.

⤷ half of the time, it's jewelry for you. the other half is for percy and leo.

✴ if you ever get in a discussion with one of his bros, he looks like a sad puppy for having to pick a side. but he always picks yours.

✴ whenever he goes to new rome alone, he comes back with millions of gift for you.

⤷ that either made him think of you, or thought it would be something you like.

✴ has shared a playlist with you.

⤷ before he asked you out, he made three playlists. "songs that would be ours if we were dating. / songs that remind me of her. / songs about one-sided pinning."

✴ he was surprised when he found out you also had a crush on him.

✴ supports everything you do. (sports, hobbies, etc etc)

✴ this man will 100% have a shoe box of things you gifted him, going from a chocolate wrap to comfort him when he first came to chb to glasses with little lighting bolts.

✴ if someone hits on him / ask him out (didn't know / didn't care he has a girlfriend) jason has two options:

⤷ "no, thanks. although my girlfriend would love to be your friend, have you met her yet?"

⤷ "no. i'm deeply in love with my girlfriend, have you seen how pretty she is? i bought her this bookmark yesterday."

✴ never really liked valentines day or any other holiday since it wasn't celebrated in camp jupiter, but goes all out with you in each one.

⤷ dress up with you for halloween if it's something you want to do, fills every room with hearts and flowers and takes you out in special dates for valentines day, plans your chritsmas gifts months ahead.

✴ if you have herritage ( or are ) from a different culture, he would learn everything and more.

⤷ makes sure that he respects it and honors it. learning your home language, learning your favorite foods, learning your history etc etc.

✴ he burns an extra piece of food for your godly parent.

✴ helps you with homework / does it with you.

✴ loves doing double dating.

⤷ your favorite one has been hazel and frank. his favorite one has been percy and annabeth.

⤷ if the second one happens, you and annie feel like the third wheel of their bromance.

✴ he doesn't have a good relationship with his dad, and... his mom is dead, so he introduces you to thalia, apollo, and maybe hera. also with all of your other friends.

⤷ "guys, this is yn."

⤷ "are you forgetting that i've known half of them longer than you have? did your amnesia came back?

⤷ "the voices in your head are getting louder, my love."

✴ that man LOVES pet names. specifically the original ones he comes up with for you.

✴ he loves to gossip with you.

✴ he is SO FUNNY. we have to stop pretending he's not.

✴ for your anniversary he would probably make you a memory book of your whole relationship.

✴ "i love you, good night, dear."

⤷ "are you staying with me? isn't that against the rules?"

⤷ "screw the rules. good night, my love."

✴ you're one of the few ones allowed to use his sword.

✴ loves matching outfits with you.

✴ he said, 'i love you' first. it was an accident when the two of you were in the middle of fighting monsters, and it just slipped.

✴ has your initials in a chain around his neck.

#jason grace #jason grace x reader #jason grace headcanon #a vampire kiss #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #bella's written love #a bloody love letter

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missbunnybunny · 5 months ago

Text

❛❛ 𝕴 𝖜𝖔𝖐𝖊 𝖚𝖕 𝖆𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖔𝖑𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖉𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖔𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓 𝖉𝖚𝖐𝖊 𝕰𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖌𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖓.❜❜

B-day post, sorry it's a little late.

- Enjoy!

Not Proofread, Not spell checked, Manipulation, Yandere, False Imprisonment. «🛑𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸🛑»

Y/n stared at herself in the mirror. She touched her face in horror as she looked in the vintage mirror.

Running to open her window, she pushed it open, seeing that this was no way, shape or form her world.

For fuck sake, there was even a large gazebo in the backyard. That was rich people's shit.

There was a knock on the door, drawing her attention from the window view.

"My lady." a voice called.

" Come in!" Y/n yelled back as she stood in the middle of the large bedroom awkwardly.

A woman with tied black hair, and a maid's outfit enters the room with a wheeled cart.

" My lady, I came to bring you breakfast." the freckled maid smiled.

Y/n sat in her bed, distressed, what was she going to do.

Holding her head, Y/n looked at her maid, " I'm sorry, but what's your name."

" Oh! I'm Anny." the maid smiles, setting up the table for her mistress to eat.

" My memory is blurry, I don't remember last night." Y/n lies.

" That should be reasonable, you had a high fever last night," Anny explained, leading Y/n to the table.

" Would you remind me of everything? " You asked.

Anny clapped her hands smiling, " Yes."

Anny explained, that this was Frostfall kingdom. The royal family consisted of five members, the emperor, the empress, two princes, and the princess.

Mistress Y/n is a member of the Evergarden Duchesse. The family was constructed by, the duke, duchess, lady Y/n, her sister, and brother.

" And finally, I am your personal maid." Anny pointed at herself proudly.

After Anny explained everything to you, it dawned on you. This was Otome game! One that you didn't remember too much.

you had to go on pretending to be the daughter of the duke, but one thing you were glad of is that you will never meet the male lead. In fact, you didn't remember what they looked like.

Her mission for the time being was serving and finding a way out of this game.

" My lady. It's time to get ready." Anny announced, snapping you from your thoughts.

" Alright," Y/n responded back.

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

After getting ready and doing all the tiring things a noble lady would do, you were making your way downstairs.

" My darling Daughter." Y/n heard an older voice calling out to her from behind.

The older woman hugged, Y/n before taking her face in hers and examining it. " Oh, dear. You have no idea how worried your father and I were." the duchess sighed.

" Sorry, Mother." Y/n apologized.

" No need, shall we go meet your father?" the duchess asked, taking her daughter's arm and walking away.

' Can't escape now,' Y/n thought, letting out a sigh. This was going to be a long day.

Making it to a large door, the duchess knocked on it twice, before receiving a response back.

Entering the room she spotted a man, covered in paperwork, with a man standing next to him.

" Dear, our dear daughter is here." His wife said.

The duke looked up before jumping from his seat and hugging Y/n.

It startled Y/n she thought this was a cliche, parents hate their kids and all but she was wrong.

The duke began to ask Y/n how she was feeling, if he could get her anything, almost spoiling her rotten.

The man still standing next to the duke's desk, clears his throat, " Your grace. The paperwork is not going to be doing itself." he warns.

This makes the duke have the face of a kicked dog as he reluctantly gets back to the workload waiting for him.

The duke is silently crying as he does his workload. He looks like a child doing his homework with his mom looking over his shoulder.

The duchess chuckles at her husband's antics before turning to her daughter.

"Dear, while your siblings are in the academy. Would you like to go out to town? This house can be stuffy." She sighs softly, placing her hand on her cheek.

" May I, Mother?" You asked, not hiding your excitement.

"Of course, dear, I'll have the butler ready a carriage." The duchess waves, a butler quickly leaving to comple his master's orders.

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

— An hour had passed, and the carriage was ready. Y/n, with the help of the knight that was tasked with escorting her, enter her ride.

Anny had already entered, and she patiently awaited for her lady to enter so the journey could begin.

" There is a market in town and many wonderful places, my Lady." Anny smiled, listing off future plans.

The ride to town was uneventful. The sinery was peaceful and beautiful, and the trees swayed with the breeze.

The ducks and swans swam os the water as if they were dancing. The sunlight glittering their feathers like pears and jewels.

Anny was excited as she talked your ear off. It was pleasant, and you would indulge her in conversation once in a while.

The city came into view, with many colorful flags, stalls, and caravans. It was a sight to see, like a festival in your world but with the expectation of elves, witches, orcs, dragons, and so on.

Anny's eyes began to sparkle as she looked at the many things to partake in. And as soon as the carriage stopped she all but jumped from her seat.

She was more excited than you, making you smile at her antics.

There was a soft knock on the door, and the voice of her knight escort, " My lady, you can exit now." he was holding the door open, for both her and her maid.

" Thank you," You smiled kindly at the man and took his hand as you exited your ride.

Looking around you marbled, joy pumping in your veins as to the many things you could see.

"Ah, my lady! Look at the food stand. And that one selling jewels."

Anny pointed from one stand to the next, "Shall we have a look at the jewel stand over there." Y/n laughed.

Y/n's knight, Ray, nodded at her statement. Walking to the many stands Y/n felt drawn to one in particular, it was being run by an elf.

The kind owner smiled warmly like the sun, showcasing the many items they had. A neckless and a bracelet, called to you as if befallen upon a spell.

" I would like these two, please," Y/n asked, pointing at the wanted items.

" Ah yes, those are quite unique items." They said, taking the jewels from their case and giving it to them.

" How much would that be?" Y/n asked. The owner simply asked for two gold coins and she was happy to pay.

Y/n handed the bracelet to Anny, in a way showing thanks.

Anny took you and your guard around the town, walking for what felt like hours. When you asked your escort what time it was, he informed you that 2 hours had passed.

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

Anny's stomach grumbled, making her blush and try to cover her abdomen.

This made you chuckle at how shy she was, "Anny, we can stop to get some food." You smiled, "Look that restaurant looks perfect."

Her eyes shined, and her smile widened before she shyly told you she couldn't ask for such a thing.

"Nonsense," you spoke. Taking her hand and sitting her down. A waiter asked how he could help you.

Anny ordered a small desert and a drink while you ordered your favorite cake and drink.

Your maid thanked you again, saying that you were a kind mistress to her.

Your orders had arrived by then, and the cake was delicious.

You didn't notice the clocked figure suddenly stopping in their tracks as they looked at you.

A smaller clocked figure ran up to them whisper yelling, " Your highness! Please wait."

"What is it, Alan?" They asked, still looking forward.

"The crown prince can't be wandering around." Alan scolded.

" I am not wondering around, I'm trying to find leads for the recent murders in town." He respondes, eyes fixed on the way your lips parted as you ate.

From what family were you? How could there be such alluring, mesmerizing beauty in such a person?

He reluctantly looked away from your smiling face and forced himself to walk away. He has a duty to uphold, for the kingdom

Looking around, you sighed, the sun felt so nice on your skin. The fresh air and the sweet pasty lifted your stress, but only for a while.

The sound of multiple marching steps made you look over Anny's shoulder, the kingdoms knight were on patrol.

They looked serious and professional. Anny's voice drew your view away, " Shall we take a look at dress shops, or would you fancy some shoes, my lady?"

Giving her a close eyed smile, you responded that sitting here for a few more minutes would be just fine.

A knight became slightly uncoordinated, your smile had his heart beating fast and wildly. His face became flushed pink, before he continued on his way.

What beautiful smile you had, blinding like sun and warm like the summer breeze.

He wanted to look at your beauty more so he could burn the image in this mind.

The dress you're wearing brings out your beauty, it suits you, anything that you would wear would look beautiful on you.

The thought of leaving his job to work as your personal knight, from what family are you? Is that your personal knight next to you?

Fuck, his superior is calling him out to pay attention.

Standing up, Anny and your knight follow closely behind. The sun was getting lower, and some stalls were closing.

A thought crosses your mind, you should get a gift for your 'parents.' Y/n made her way to a boutique. As you walked to one that caught your eye, you heard something fall.

A man with his arm full of books and other things rushed past you.

Looking down, you spotted what he dropped, a star shape battle it midnight liquid. It was pretty, but you knew it was important.

"Hey, wait!" You called out.

You run up to him, finally catching him, "Y-You dropped this." You huffed exhausted, lifting the bottle up to him.

He looked at you. You were pretty. Who were you? "Ah, thank you." He spoke softly.

"From what family are you?" He asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

" Oh, I'm from—" "My Ladya we have to hurry." Anny yelled.

"Ah, sorry." Y/n bows before running off into the crowd.

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

Your knight carried a couple of bags full of clothes or other things. You argued that you should at least carry some stuff.

You carried 3 boxes, one of jewelry and two of shoes. It might have been a mistake, cuz right now, you couldn't see where you were going.

And bang, your boxes fell, and so did you. An arm caught you, he was tall, " Are you okay?" He asked.

"Ah, yes." You smiled, trying to stand up, but you stumbled forward. He noticed your heel had broken.

"Sorry, " he says, embarrassed, your knight and maid are by your side worried.

He fixes his hood, " Please sit," he said, taking you to a bench.

He runs off, leaving you a little confused. Now you sat at the bench missing a shoe.

He dissappears off into a shop, you think. Before he returned with a box in his hands.

"I apologize here." He kneels, making you blush. He opens the box and changes your shoes.

Now you are the proud owner of a new pair of shoes.

Damn, princess syndrome is gonna hit you hard when you get home.

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

Inside the carriage, you arrived at your home. You see a very handsome man outside your family door, seemingly being seen off by your father.

" Father," Y/n waves happy, as her knight helps her off.

Your father smiles, greeting you with a hug and giving you a kiss on the cheek.

"Y/n dear, this is the duke." Your father introduced.

The Duke looks at you amused.

"H-Hello," you say, blushing. This man was making you nervous.

He smiles, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it, "My lady," his voice was deep.

He chuckles, seeing your face burn bright red. You look at anything but him.

"I must say my goodbyes," he smiled, giving your father a handshake and your hand another kiss.

He leaves the state.

"Father, I have some gifts for you." You say happily.

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

The party is in full swing. You most admit your father is a great party host. A beautiful woman dressed elegantly caught your eye.

The female lead.

The clock is turning, but this time, you don't know of the unknown route that the kingdom is walking into.

Can you survive?

Will you survive this new change?

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

#male yandere #pretty yandere #original yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #isekai reader #isekai #yanderecore #yandere content #tw yandere #darlingcore #pls boost #like or reblog

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fluentmoviequoter · 4 months ago

Text

Not Since I Found You

Requested Here!

Pairing: (divorced)Deacon Kay x fem!reader

Summary: After Annie was changed by her brain tumor, she left Deacon. Now that he has you in his life, she decides that she doesn't want him to move on and does everything she can think of to sabotage your relationship.

Warnings: Annie is completely different after removing the brain tumor, angst, lots of fluff, quick tense change

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Deacon’s end-of-shift routine had changed drastically over the past year. Before, he would rush home to see Annie and hug his kids. Now, he sits on a bench in the locker room, looks at pictures of Matthew, Lila, and Samuel, and counts down the days until he can see them again. Anything he could do at work to delay going home to a cold and lonely apartment, he’d do it.

After Annie awoke from her surgery to remove the tumor in her brain, she was different. Deacon tried everything he could to remind Annie of why they fell in love and convince her that it could be the same as before. The Annie Deacon once knew was long gone, and the new Annie wasted no time filing for divorce and getting custody of the kids. So, Deacon spent the next year in a vicious cycle of loneliness, struggling to accept what has happened and wondering if he’ll ever feel alive again. But then, he left SWAT HQ on a random weekday, went to a park to walk, and met you. Then, suddenly, everything brightened again.

Less than a week later, you became part of Deacon’s life. He texted you often, made plans to hang out, and, by the end of the month, asked you on a date. Despite the heartbreak he’s been through and the misery he has allowed himself to stay in, Deacon fell for you quickly.

“Are you free tonight?” Deacon asks over the phone.

“Mm, I’ll have to check my schedule,” you joke. “I think I can squeeze you in.”

“My team is going out to dinner tonight, and I want you to come.”

“Deacon,” you begin.

“I’m sure,” he answers before you ask. “You’re important to me, and they’re my family.”

“I’ll be there.”

“I’ll pick you up,” Deacon corrects you. “See you tonight.”

Several hours later, you hold Deacon’s hand as you enter the restaurant. His team is his family, and you know that meeting them is important. Your relationship is getting serious, and tonight solidifies that.

“Hondo, Street, Chris, Tan, Luca, this is my girlfriend,” Deacon begins once you’re seated.

Immediately, you’re greeted with handshakes, hugs, questions, and smiles. Talking to them is easy. It's like they’ve been your best friends for as long as they’ve been Deacon’s. Deep down, however, a small, nagging question wonders if they like you or if this is an act for Deacon’s benefit.

After you receive your drinks, you excuse yourself to use the restroom, and Chris joins you.

“Thank you,” Chris says, pulling you into a hug in the privacy of the women’s room.

“For what?” you question.

“Being so great for Deacon. Watching what he went through with Annie was… it was awful. But then you came along, and he’s happy again. We want the best for him, and that’s you.”

“You think so?”

Chris scoffs as she rolls her eyes. “If you could see how he looks at you, you wouldn’t have a single doubt. You’re good for each other, and he loves you.”

“Thank you, Chris.”

“More importantly than Deacon, you also got a new best friend.”

“Street?” you tease.

She shoves you gently before she loops her arm through yours. “No one likes Street, that’s one thing you need to know.”

“Deacon seems to,” you argue playfully.

“Deacon has a thing for strays.” Chris realizes what she implied and adds, “Not you!”

“I got it. We’re best friends now, right? So, don’t worry about offending me.”

“Oh, I knew I’d like you.”

“Sorry,” Tan says as he pulls his shopping cart toward him.

“No worries,” the person behind the other cart says.

“Annie?” Tan questions, stepping forward to see her.

“Victor, hi,” she greets. “How are you?”

“Annie,” a man calls as he walks down the aisle. “Sorry.”

“It’s our second date and we both forgot that cooking requires ingredients,” Annie explains.

“Well, good for you,” Tan says. “Glad to see you and Deacon are both moving on. Have a nice night.”

Annie watches Tan walk past; though her date is talking to her, she can only focus on one thing. Deacon and another woman. Annie may not love him anymore but does not appreciate the visual. She doesn’t want to see Deacon with someone else, no matter what.

“Annie?” her date tries again. “Tomato basil or marinara?”

“You pick,” she mumbles. He nods and weighs the options while Annie considers what she could do to ensure that Deacon won’t move on. As far as she’s concerned, he has no reason to move on after her.

Deacon is nearly ready for your date when someone knocks on his door. He is surprised to see Annie and his kids standing outside. When Lila reaches forward to knock, he pulls the door open and squats to hug her.

“Hey!” he greets as the boys join the hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Surprising you!” Lila answers happily.

“Something came up and I have to meet someone, not sure when I’ll be done,” Annie says. She looks at his nice outfit and adds, “But if you’ve got plans, I can-“

“No, no,” Deacon replies hurriedly. “I can watch them.”

“Great. Thanks, David.”

Annie disappears down the hall, smiling to herself for her success in keeping him from meeting his date. While she celebrates her perceived victory, Deacon takes his kids inside, abandons his suit jacket on a chair, and dials your number.

“Hey, Deac,” you greet when you answer.

“Hi,” he begins. “I’m so sorry, but Annie just dropped the kids off and needs me to watch them tonight.

“I understand, Deacon. Enjoy your time with them; we can reschedule.”

“Thank you.”

Lila reaches up toward Deacon’s phone, and he smiles as he lowers it and puts it on speaker. “Someone wants to say hi,” Deacon tells you.

“Hi!” Lila calls.

“Well, hello, Lila,” you reply happily. “I hope you have fun with your dad tonight.”

“Are you coming over?” she asks.

“You can if you want,” Deacon adds before you can answer.

“What does Lila want?” you inquire.

Lila smiles up at Deacon, and he answers for her, “She wants to see you.”

“What if I come over for dinner and then let you enjoy some family time after?” you suggest.

“That sounds perfect, we’ll see you then.”

Deacon ends the call and sits on the couch with his kids. Spending time with them and you is better than the expensive reservation you had, he thinks. Deacon may never know what Annie’s plan was, but her attempt at sabotage actually made Deacon’s night better. Besides, you’d already met his kids when they stayed with him for a weekend, and they enjoy your company almost as much as he does.

“Here to see Deacon?” Street asks when he notices you waiting at SWAT HQ.

“I am,” you answer with a smile. “He’s in a meeting; Hondo told me I could wait here.”

“Don’t make me give you a parking ticket,” he teases.

Around the corner, Annie stops when she hears Deacon’s name. More, when she hears that another woman is here to see Deacon. She doesn’t know if it’s the same person Tan mentioned or the same one whose date she interrupted, but she doesn’t like it. After Street leaves, she walks into the common area and sees you sitting in a chair with your phone in your lap.

“May I?” Annie asks, pointing to the empty chair beside you.

“Yes, of course,” you answer, smiling.

“Thanks. So, are you a cop’s wife?”

“No, just a girlfriend.”

“Then you’re the brave one in the relationship,” Annie says.

“Not at all. I worry about him all the time.”

Annie hums before she muses, “Seems like that would put a lot of strain on a relationship.”

“Well, the alternative is a complete lack of care and empathy. To me, that’s not even an option.”

“Sure, but… doesn’t that constant worry put a barrier between you? Or maybe your relationship is new enough that you haven’t noticed yet. He will.”

You nod and unlock your phone. Annie may not know you recognize her, but she’s in a few pictures at Deacon’s apartment. The first time you came over, he explained everything to you: the tumor, the sudden change in her personality, and how she broke his heart by leaving and taking his kids most of the time. You knew she had been changed by the tumor, but you didn’t expect she’d try to scare you into leaving Deacon.

Hondo steps out of the office and looks between you and Annie. When you lock eyes with him, he tips his head to invite you in while he walks toward Annie. You mouth thank you and walk quickly into the office where Deacon is. You decide not to tell him what Annie said, but you suspect he knows more about her new attitude than you do.

Annie slides a diamond ring onto her left hand and watches it glint in the light. She came to the jewelry store to get Lila a necklace for her birthday and was distracted by the row of shining engagement rings. When Deacon proposed, they were young, and he got a sentimentally rich ring that was cheap. At that point, she loved it, but now she wonders what it would have been like to have received a ‘real’ ring. She doesn’t miss Deacon, but she misses his devotion to her, how he’d never as much as look at another woman.

The bell over the door rings as it opens, and Annie returns the ring to the saleswoman and asks to see any kids’ jewelry they have.

“Annie?” Deacon asks.

Annie turns toward the door and smiles when she sees him. “David. Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” he asks, glancing at the engagement ring being returned to its display.

“Shopping for Lila’s birthday. I was thinking I’d get her a necklace; she’s been talking about getting one for weeks.”

Deacon nods, aware that Lila wants a necklace because she loves the one you wear daily.

“What about you? You’ve never been a jewelry guy,” Annie points out.

You don’t know what kind of guy I am anymore, Deacon thinks. “Just replacing the chain,” Deacon says, tugging on the necklace tucked under his shirt.

Annie nods and follows the saleswoman to a different display case as Deacon approaches a desk at the back of the store.

“I have a pickup for David Kay,” he tells the man at the desk.

The man types his name, nods, and excuses himself to retrieve the order. Deacon looks at the back wall but is aware of where Annie is (a job hazard and an annoyance in this situation).

“Here you are, Mr. Kay,” the man says as he passes a bag over the desk. “It has been sized and polished, as requested.”

“Perfect,” Deacon replies. “Thank you.”

“Who’s the lucky girl?” Annie asks.

“What girl?”

“You and I both know it’s not a necklace chain.”

“You and I don’t know anything anymore, Annie.” Deacon begins to step past her, then adds, “Lila would like the one with the silver branch and flowers.”

As he leaves the jewelry store with your engagement ring at his side, Deacon focuses on you rather than Annie’s odd reaction to thinking he is proposing. She’d been unjustly angry and jealous after her surgery, even accused Deacon of cheating on her with Chris, and that shift in her mindset hasn’t gone away.

You text Deacon as he gets in his car, and his questions about Annie disappear as he smiles at your name.

Your phone rings while you are waiting for Deacon to arrive. The number isn’t one you recognize, but you answer anyway.

“Hello?” you greet.

“Hi, this is Annie Kay,” the woman on the other end says.

“Oh, um, hi,” you stutter. “How did you get my number?”

“That’s not important.”

“I think-“

“Listen, I’m just calling to warn you. I know that you think things are getting serious with David, Deacon, whatever you call him. But it won’t work out.”

“Annie,” you try to interrupt.

“It won’t work because he will never be as happy with you as he was with me.”

Deacon pulls in and parks, and you hang up on his ex-wife. The phone rings again, but you mute the ringer and walk out to greet Deacon.

“Are you okay?” he asks, cupping your face between his hands.

“Yeah,” you answer.

Deacon shakes his head, and you admit, “Annie just called me. She wanted to tell me that you’d never be as happy with me as you were with her.”

“I’m so sorry,” Deacon sighs. “I’ll talk to her.”

“She really changed, didn’t she?”

Deacon nods as his arms wrap around you. “She was wrong.”

“Oh, I know,” you agree playfully. “Deacon, I love you.”

“I love you,” he replies. “So much.”

Matthew, Lila, and Samuel are home with Annie the next time you and Deacon go on a date. He takes you to an overview where you can see where you met and brings a special picnic dinner. Around 8 p.m., Lila asks her mom to stay up later. Since there’s no school tomorrow, Annie agrees, and the kids watch the clock rather than the television above it.

Above Los Angeles, your watch changes to 8:15, and Deacon takes your hand as he encourages you to stand. He presses a button on his phone, and when the music begins to play, he pulls you close and dances with you. At 8:19 exactly, the song ends, and Deacon drops to one knee.

“Second chances aren’t guaranteed,” Deacon begins. “But you are by far the best second chance I’ve ever gotten. I love you more than I thought I could love anything ever again. You’re good with my kids, you don’t care that I’m used and have been broken over and over, and you never fail to make me feel like I’m the only man you’ll ever want.” Deacon pulls a velvet box from the picnic basket and raises the ring toward you to ask, “Will you keep loving me forever, and marry me?”

“Yes!” you yell, taking Deacon’s hand. “Deacon, yes.”

You drop to your knees to hug Deacon, but he redirects you to kiss you, and he pulls you just as close as when you were dancing. You and your love melt into Deacon for eternity.

In Annie’s living room, when the clock changes to 8:20, Matthew, Samuel, and Lila jump and cheer. Annie doesn’t know that her attempts to sabotage Deacon’s relationship will never work. Deacon’s children know they’re gaining a stepmom which is cause for celebration. However, everyone is in for a surprise when they learn Deacon plans to petition for custody.

“Deacon,” you say after you pull back. “You’re not broken.”

“Not anymore,” he agrees. “Not since I found you.”

#david deacon kay x reader #deacon kay x reader #david deacon kay #deacon kay fluff #deacon kay #david kay x reader #david kay #swat cbs #swat x reader #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯

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peachhcs · 5 months ago

Note

can we get some samy and jack time? I feel like their dynamic would be fun!

mini golfing the anger away

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

jack takes samy out on an adventure to help her get over the breakup

here’s some requested samy & jack dynamic as he helps samy through the breakup in an attempt to lift her spirits. i don’t know how many words this is but it’s around the same as my other fics:)

au masterlist

there was one loud knock on samy’s door before it flung open without a chance for her to ask who it was. jack’s mop of brown hair peaked its way through as the younger girl raised her eyebrow in confusion.

“good you’re up,” the boy hummed.

“what do you want?” samy huffed, a bit annoyed that jack just bursted in without much explanation.

“we’re going for a little adventure because you’ve been stuck inside all day and i think you need fresh air to clear your mind,” jack determined like he had everything planned out already and he did.

“i don’t need fresh air. i’m wallowing in self-pity,” the girl groaned, pulling her blankets further up her body like they’d hide her.

jack shuffled to the bed until he sat down on the edge of it and pulled the blankets back down much to his sister’s dismay. “look, i know you’ve been going through a lot with the breakup and everything. i just wanna brighten your mood a bit and hang out with you because i feel like we haven’t hung out one on one in awhile,” the older boy softened his tone out.

“you and me hanging out results in things we shouldn’t be doing 99% of the time,” samy deadpanned.

“doesn’t that make it more fun though?” jack smirked.

the girl knew her brother wasn’t taking no for an answer, so with a long sigh, she sat up and pushed the blankets down completely.

“okay, fine. can you give me like fifteen minutes and i’ll meet you downstairs?” with that, jack beamed and nodded.

“no later than fifteen!” samy rolled her eyes a bit as her brother quickly disappeared from her room, but the small smile on her lips said otherwise.

—

fifteen minutes later on the dot, samy trailed down the stairs dressed in better outfit that wasn’t a t-shirt and sweatpants. jack was in the kitchen scrolling through his phone when the girl found him.

“okay, i’m ready,” she poked his shoulder.

“ow, that’s my bad shoulder,” the older boy pulled away making samy laugh.

she followed him out of the house and to his car. because jack planned the outing, he let samy have aux.

“are you gonna tell me what we’re doing?” the girl asked as they rolled out of the driveway.

“it wouldn’t be a surprise if i told you,” jack said in a “duh” tone. that made the brunette roll her eyes, but she didn’t say anything else.

the siblings let the soft music fill the car’s silence as jack drove through the familiar roads of ann arbor, michigan. everything they passed reminded samy of a memory with will when they were little which was a bit bittersweet now.

“remember when you and luke got stranded in the lowe’s parking lot?” jack snapped the girl from her thoughts. her gaze bounced to the big department store they flew past and a smile inched its way to her lips.

“god, that felt like a nightmare. we were so scared,” samy laughed.

“mom was freaking out when she realized she left you guys behind. i don’t think i’ve ever seen her that crazy. she swerved around on all of these roads,” jack laughed too.

“i’m pretty sure i cried the entire time until i saw mom,” the younger brunette grinned.

“you were always such a cry baby,” the older boy teased making samy pinch his arm.

“shut up, you were too. quinn’s the worst one out of all of us though,” for being the oldest, quinn sure was a mama’s boy when he was little.

after another ten minutes, jack pulled into a small gravel drive while samy’s eyes lit up a bit when she realized where they were.

“we’re going mini golfing?” the girl wondered as the sign in front of them read “annie’s putt putt and ice cream” — a staple of the hughes’ kids childhood.

“i thought you could use a pick me up, so why not reminisce on how competitive we all got with one another,” the boy smiled widely as he climbed out of the car leaving samy no other choice but to follow him.

jack quickly paid, handing samy her signature pink putter and ball. quinn always took dibs on green, jack got blue, leaving luke stuck with orange. he complained every time.

“i can’t believe we’re doing this. i haven’t done this in years,” samy hummed as she walked towards the first hole.

“this is gonna be fun. a little bonding between us,” jack nudged her arm and samy couldn’t help but agree.

she missed hanging out with jack because he always seemed to have something else going on. plus, this would get her mind off of things for at least an hour.

“whoever wins buys the other ice cream,” the older hughes sibling determined as he set his ball up first.

“i hope you’re ready to pay for my ice cream then,” the girl grinned widely making her brother roll his eyes.

jack took his first swing marking the beginning of the very fierce competition. if there was one thing about the four siblings, it was that they were very competitive with one another. whether it be pool, wakeboarding off the boat, or simply seeing who could chug the most water in a minute, the four were always going at it over the summer. mini golf always got them going which was why the family hardly went with all of them anymore because of how heated it got.

one year, quinn pushed luke over one of the obstacles making the poor kid sprain his ankle. after that, going to mini golf was banned in the hughes household.

by the fourth hole, samy was close behind jack in strokes. the two carefully followed jack’s ball down the path where it landed five inches away from the hole.

“that was rigged!” jack exclaimed in annoyance.

“ha! if i get this in, i’m ahead of you!” samy exclaimed, going into position for her next putt.

jack held his breath as he watched samy’s ball roll right past his directly into the hole. the younger girl cheered while jack stomped away like a little kid.

“i’m winning! you have more strokes than me now!”

“you’re just cheating,” the older boy rolled his eyes.

“i am not! you literally watched that go in!” the younger brunette pushed jack to go take his last putt for the hole.

the two moved through the rest of the holes fairly quickly. by the ninth hole, samy was significantly in the lead and was most definitely gonna win.

“better get your wallet out, jack,” she winked before taking the putt.

her pink ball traveled through the windmills and around the hill as the siblings followed it down the path. it came out the other side of the cave just an inch away from the hole.

“shit! so close to a hole in one,” samy frowned, tapping the ball in.

“do i even need to putt?” jack huffed.

“be a team player,” the girl giggled, pushing her brother back to the start.

jack lined his putt up with the ball, going in for a swing. his blue ball took the same path as samy’s through the windmills, around the hill, and through the cave except his landed directly into the hole for a hole in one.

“holy shit! hole in one!” the boy jumped up and down in excitement.

“hey, good play,” samy clapped for him.

“you know, i’ll take that as the end. i may have not won, but at least i got a hole in one,” jack grinned as the two went back to the counter.

“good game. that was fun,” samy hummed as she set her putter and ball into the basket.

“i’m glad you had fun. that was my goal,” the older boy smiled and made his way to the ice cream stand.

jack got his usual of soft chocolate and vanilla while samy stuck with her strawberry in a dish. the two found a quiet spot at one of the farther tables away from the smaller kids running around.

“are you glad i dragged you out of bed now?” jack wondered.

“you know, yeah, i am. thank you. this was really fun. i felt like i was a kid again,” samy smiled some.

“we hate seeing you sad, so i figured some mini golf wouldn’t hurt. mom only agreed if it was only us though,” that made the two laugh.

“it’d be a shit show if we were all here,” the younger girl giggled.

“exactly. luke wouldn’t have survived again.”

a comfortable silence fell over the siblings. it was rare for samy and jack to be in silence without one another bickering about something stupid and quinn needing to mediate, so they took advantage of it.

“i got broken up with once when i was 16. do you remember that?” jack broke the silence. samy raised her eyebrow and shook her head.

“i guess maybe not. you were..probably 12. anyway, this girl i dated for a bit broke up with me before i started dev program. it actually really hurt,” the older boy’s gaze fell away from his sister’s as he thought about the memory.

“i’m sorry. that sucks,” the girl sympathized.

“yeah, it did suck. breakups suck in general. i’m sorry you’re going through one.”

samy shrugged some, “it’s fine, i guess. he made that choice and..it’s whatever.”

“he’s an asshole,” jack determined making samy snort.

“i think you, quinn, and luke think the same thing. it’s so weird because..i..i wanna be mad at him and i am. i’m really hurt, but also..i’m not if that makes sense? like i don’t think i could ever be mad at will no matter what,” the younger brunette met jack’s gaze again.

“i get it. he was your best friend. it’s hard to..be mad at people like that. i dunno..maybe time will change things? like..you guys just need some time apart?” the older boy shrugged.

“yeah, maybe. i don’t know. like i hate him, but i don’t. i love him, but i don’t. it’s confusing me,” samy sighed.

“give it like a month and see how you feel. the breakup’s still really fresh so the feelings you’re having may be different from the normal ones you have on a normal basis. let it kind of..sit with you and then reassess i’d say.”

“yeah, that makes sense. i just feel weird showing and feeling the emotion because growing up with you guys makes me not wanna do any of that,” the girl laughed a bit.

“hey, we’re always here for you to talk or anything. i mean you say the word and we’ll go knock on his door. i think luke really wants to,” the two shared a laugh.

“thanks, i appreciate it. you guys have been really good to me,” samy grinned.

“it’s what older brothers are for,” jack poked his sister’s arm making her squirm away from him.

the two finished up their ice cream before heading back to the car. samy’s head felt a bit lighter on the way back thanks to jack’s outing. she’d really have to thank her brothers one day for getting her through this because she’d probably be unable to move from her bed if it weren’t for them.

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lila-lou · 8 months ago

Text

✨ His only exception - Pt. 13/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, soft Ben

Word Count: 5442

A/N: This is part 13 of “His only exeption”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

"So, how are things going with you and Ben?", she asked, her tone casual but her eyes betraying a hint of curiosity. "You two seem to be getting along really well again, especially since you guys came back from vacation".

You flashed Annie a smile, trying to sound nonchalant as you replied, “Oh, you know how it is. We just talked, drank, and had fun while we were in Brazil”. Annie nodded, but her eyes betrayed a knowing glint as she continued, “And what about that little crush you had on him a few weeks ago? Seemed like there was something more going on”.

You felt a pang of panic, hoping Ben was too engrossed in the conversation with Butcher to overhear.

“Oh, that?”, you said, trying to brush it off. “Just a silly little crush, nothing serious”.

As Annie and Kimiko exchanged glances, Kimiko raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. Sensing your confusion, you sighed, asking her silently, "What?".

In response, Kimiko signed a few quick gestures, her hands moving with precision and clarity. Though you were still learning sign language, you understood her message clearly: he's not a good guy, and you shouldn't have a crush on him.

Her words struck a chord.

As Ben’s gaze lingered on you from afar, his ears caught every word of your conversation with Annie and Kimiko.

Meanwhile, Annie turned to you, her expression solemn. “Kimiko’s right, you know”, she said softly. “You shouldn’t let yourself get too caught up with someone like him”.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a mix of confusion and curiosity. “Someone like him? Like what?”, you asked, crossing your arms as you waited for their explanation.

Again Annie exchanged a meaningful look with Kimiko before speaking again. “Someone who’s… complicated”, she replied carefully. “You know he’s not the easiest person to deal with”.

Kimiko nodded in agreement, her expression serious. “He’s dangerous”, she signed, her hands moving swiftly to convey her message. “You should be careful”.

You sighed, shaking your head slightly. “He never hurt me”, you insisted, feeling the need to defend Ben, despite all the warning signs.

Annie raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. “Well, not on purpose maybe”, she countered, her tone tinged with concern. Kimiko’s hands moved, “He’s just a massive red flag”.

“He’s got PTSD, he’s never sober, always on coke, and let’s not forget, he’s a fucking misogynist”.

"I know," you admitted quietly, your gaze drifting back to Ben.

Annie sighed, her expression softening with concern. "Just be careful, okay? You shouldn't catch any kind of feelings for him", she warned, her tone gentle but firm.

You scoffed, feeling a pang of frustration. "I know he's not perfect, but he's not a bad guy", you insisted, though doubt lingered in your mind.

Annie's expression grew serious. "Remember his short temper and his aggressive mood swings", she reminded you, her voice low. "his lack of empathy and emotions. He's not capable of loving someone".

As Annie’s words sank in, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease creeping over you. Despite your conflicted feelings for Ben, the reality of his volatile nature and emotional detachment weighed heavily on your mind. Before you could respond, Kimiko signed to you, “You could literally easily die. Since you’re just a human, Ben could crush you at any time with ease”.

You sighed, trying to dismiss the heaviness of the conversation. "Let's just drop it", you said, your voice wavering slightly. "I don't have any feelings for him, and I never will".

You hoped your words sounded convincing, but deep down, you knew they were a lie. However, unbeknownst to you, Ben overheard your declaration from afar, a dark look crossing his features as he listened.

Annie couldn’t shake her concern for you, her eyes still filled with worry as she turned back to you. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt”, Annie said softly, her voice tinged with genuine concern.

“I know”, you replied quietly, feeling the weight of her words.

Annie placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, her gaze filled with compassion. “Soldier boy could never give you what you need”, she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

As Ben sat amidst the discussion with Butcher, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Emotions swirled within him, a turbulent mix of frustration, insecurity, and a hint of longing. He couldn't bear the thought of you thinking poorly of him, but he was at a loss for what to do.

From the kitchen, you glanced over at Ben, your gaze lingering on him for a moment. But Ben, determined to maintain his facade, pretended to be engrossed in the conversation with Butcher, his expression carefully neutral.

Unknown to you, his heart ached with the desire to reach out to you, to reassure you that he wasn't as bad as you might think. But his pride and his own internal struggles kept him rooted in place.

Annie caught your gaze lingering on Ben, and she shot you a knowing look, her expression tinged with sarcasm.

"Sure thing", she muttered sarcastically, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Not catching feelings at all, huh?".

You felt a flush of embarrassment heat your cheeks, but you quickly averted your gaze, unable to meet Annie's knowing eyes. Deep down, you knew she was right, but admitting it was another matter entirely.

As everyone got ready to eat, you busied yourself with setting the table, focusing on the task at hand to distract yourself from your swirling thoughts.

Just as you reached for the salad on the kitchen counter, you felt a presence behind you. Before you could react, Ben's voice whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

"I want you in my room later, when everyone's asleep", he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

You tensed at his words, a rush of anticipation mingled with apprehension flooding through you. Glancing over your shoulder, you met his gaze briefly before nodding in silent agreement.

Annie glanced over at you and Ben but didn’t notice the subtle gesture of intimacy exchanged between you. Ben’s gentle touch as he brushed over your lower back went unnoticed by anyone else as he smoothly made his way to the table to join the rest of the team.

As you sat down beside Ben, your thoughts raced with a whirlwind of questions and uncertainties. The subtle touch from earlier lingered in your mind, adding to the anticipation of what might unfold later that night.

Across the table, you noticed Butcher's sharp gaze fixed on you, a flicker of curiosity evident in his expression. You quickly averted your eyes, feeling a surge of discomfort under his scrutiny.

You helped yourself to some food, your mind buzzed with thoughts of Annie and Kimiko's warnings. Their words echoed in your mind.

As everyone fell into small talk, the atmosphere around the table became relaxed, but Ben remained his usual quiet self, showing little interest in engaging with anyone else except you. Similarly, you found yourself lost in your thoughts, exchanging occasional glances with Annie whenever Ben's eyes were fixed on you.

Despite the casual chatter around you, a tension lingered in the air, palpable in the way Ben's gaze seemed to follow you, his attention solely focused on you amidst the distractions of the dinner table.

As you felt Ben's knee nudge yours under the table, you looked up at him, but he didn't raise his gaze from his plate. Instead, his hand found its way onto your thigh under the table, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you.

You shot him a questioning glance, but he remained focused on his food.

Despite your expectations, Ben's touch remained surprisingly innocent. His hand simply lay on your thigh.

As you tried to make sense of his actions, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief mingled with confusion. It was a small gesture, yet it spoke volumes about the complexity of your relationship with Ben.

About an hour later you found yourself in the midst of self-defense and fighting practice with MM and Butcher, the adrenaline pumping through your veins masked the lingering tension from dinner. Despite the physical exertion, your mind couldn't help but drift back to the earlier conversation and the anticipation of what awaited you later with Ben.

MM's voice cut through your thoughts, breaking your concentration. "Focus, kid", he said firmly, his tone demanding. "You need to keep your guard up".

You nodded, refocusing your attention on the task at hand. "Right, sorry", you replied, determined to prove yourself amidst the flurry of punches and kicks.

Butcher chimed in, his voice gruff but encouraging. "Good effort, lass. Keep at it, and you'll be holding your own in no time".

But as your thoughts swirled with images of Ben, you lost focus again, failing to anticipate Butcher's next move. Before you knew it, his fist connected with your shoulder, sending you tumbling to the ground with a grunt of pain.

"Oi! Pay attention, will ya?", Butcher barked, his tone gruff but not unkind as he offered you a hand up.

As you struggled to regain your footing, Butcher’s voice cut through the haze of embarrassment. “Seems like your mind’s elsewhere, lass. Can’t afford that when you’re in a fight”.

You accepted his hand gratefully, shooting him an apologetic look. “Sorry, Butcher. Just got a bit distracted”, you admitted, trying to shake off the embarrassment. Butcher’s expression softened slightly, though his eyes still held a hint of amusement. “Well, keep your head in the game, or next time it might be a bit harder”, he warned, his tone gruff but encouraging.

Meanwhile, Ben stood in the doorframe, his smirk widening as he watched the exchange. He couldn't resist adding his own commentary. "Seems like someone's got no practice in anything", he teased, hinted at your recent loss of virginity without outright saying it.

You felt a flicker of annoyance at his comment, but you refused to let it show. Instead, you shot back with a defiant glare. "You want to talk about practice? Maybe you should switch with Butcher, and I'll whip your arrogant supe ass instead", you retorted.

Butcher chuckled, while Ben's smirk only widened. "Touché", he replied, his tone amused as he sauntered into the room, ready to join in on the training session.

"I'd love to see you try", Ben taunted, his voice laced with amusement.

"Bring it on", you challenged, your pulse racing with anticipation.

As Ben walked past you, his arms crossed and a smirk playing on his lips, MM and Butcher exchanged a glance, their eyebrows raised in silent communication.

MM muttered under his breath, "This is gonna get messy".

Butcher nodded in agreement, his expression serious as he watched the tension between you and Ben unfold.

Ben stood casually across from you, his attire relaxed in sweatpants and a black hoodie. He seemed unimpressed by your challenge, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Come on, sweetheart", he taunted. "You really think you can take me on?".

"Watch me".

Ben chuckled, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked you up and down. "I like a bit of fight in a girl", he replied. "But let's see if you can back up that little attitude of yours”.

Ben's smirk widened as he met your defiant gaze. "Don't say I didn't warn you", he said. "I won't go easy on you”.

You met Ben's gaze head-on, the challenge sparking between you like electricity. "I bet, old man", you shot back.

Butcher cleared his throat, his tone stern as he addressed Ben. "Remember, mate, she's just a human. Keep those supe powers in check", he warned, his gaze flicking between the two of you. Ben shrugged off Butcher's warning with a cocky smirk. "I'll play nice", he replied, though his eyes gleamed with mischief. "At least until she gives me a reason not to".

The sparring began, and you moved with agility, trying to anticipate Ben's every move. But no matter how fast you were, he was always a step ahead, effortlessly blocking each of your strikes with precision.

As the fight continued, the tension between you grew palpable. At one point, Ben caught you off guard, his strong arms wrapping around you from behind as he blocked another of your moves. You could feel the heat of his body pressed against your back, his breath warm against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

Despite the intensity of the moment, there was an undeniable thrill in the closeness of your bodies, the adrenaline of the fight mingling with a different kind of arousal. Ben found it incredibly hot that you were trying to fight him, his own desire flaring as he held you tightly against him.

Ben’s breath grew heavy against your ear, his voice a husky whisper that sent a thrill down your spine. “You’re feisty, I’ll give you that”, he murmured, his tone teasing and flirtatious.

You gritted your teeth, determined to push through the distraction and maintain your composure.

As Ben's arm tightened around your neck, you reacted instinctively, sinking your teeth into his flesh. With a sharp intake of breath, he loosened his grip, giving you the opportunity to break free.

Seizing the moment, you launched yourself at him, catching him off guard and managing to throw him to the ground. But in the heat of the struggle, you ended up straddling his lap, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you looked down at him, a mix of triumph and uncertainty in your eyes.

Ben's gaze met yours, his expression a mixture of surprise and admiration. Despite being momentarily overpowered, there was a glint of respect in his eyes as he looked up at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

Ben's hands gripped your hips firmly, you couldn't help but feel the light pressure of his erection underneath you, sending a shiver down your spine. His grip tightened, almost crushing, but it only added to the rush of arousal coursing through you.

Ben seized the opportunity to roll you over, quickly reversing the position. Now, he knelt above you, his hand tight around your neck, asserting his dominance. With a smirk, he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Looks like I've got you right where I want you, sweetheart. You always did have a knack for getting yourself into trouble".

As you struggled beneath him, Ben's firm grip held you in place, his dominance undeniable. Despite your efforts to break free, his strength was overwhelming, leaving you pinned beneath him. With a defiant glare, you tried to push against his hold, but it was no use.

Ben's smirk only widened as he maintained his control over you. Meanwhile, Butcher, who had been observing the exchange with a critical eye, couldn't hide his disapproval. "Oi, enough of that, mate", he interjected gruffly, stepping forward with a stern expression. "Keep your eyes off her, she ain't some bloody toy for you to play with".

Ben's smirk faltered slightly at Butcher's interruption, but he didn't release his grip on you. Instead, he met Butcher's gaze with a challenging glare of his own, the tension between them palpable. With a snarky smirk, Ben quipped, "Someone's feeling a bit overprotective today, aren't they, Butcher?".

Butcher's jaw tightened at the remark, his expression stern as he stepped closer to Ben. "I ain't being overprotective", he retorted firmly. "I'm just reminding you of the consequences of your actions. You may be invincible, mate, but she isn't".

With an eye roll, Ben finally released his grip on you and offered his hand to help you up. However, his tug was way too strong, causing you to stumble against his chest as you regained your footing.

"Easy there", he chuckled, his tone light but tinged with amusement as he steadied you.

You shot him a playful glare, rubbing your sore arm where his grip had been particularly tight. "You could've been more gentle, you know", you muttered, unable to hide the hint of annoyance in your voice.

Ben merely shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "I'm a soldier, sweetheart. If I fight, I fight", he teased, his tone unapologetic.

You rolled your eyes at his cavalier attitude.

MM chimed in with a sigh, his voice carrying a note of exasperation. "You're just getting too distracted", he remarked, his tone firm but not unkind.

Ben, unusually serious for once, nodded in agreement. "He´s right", he added, his gaze meeting yours briefly. "Against any supe, there's no time for distractions".

You bristled at the criticism, feeling the weight of their expectations bearing down on you. "It was my first damn practice session", you retorted, your frustration bubbling to the surface. "Cut me some slack".

Despite your defiant tone, there was a part of you that couldn't shake the nagging feeling that they were right. You needed to focus if you were going to stand a chance against any real threats.

Butcher approached you, his hand came to rest gently on your lower back, a silent gesture of reassurance. "Hey, not bad for your first go", he said, his tone gruff but approving. "You just need to work on keeping your focus, that's all".

You nodded, grateful for his encouragement.

Meanwhile, Ben's gaze flickered to Butcher's hand on your lower back, a surge of possessiveness stirring within him. He clenched his jaw, a brief flicker of jealousy crossing his features, but he quickly pushed it aside, not wanting to make a scene.

As Butcher and MM began to leave the room, Ben lingered behind for a moment, his gaze fixed on you. With a subtle nod to Butcher, he indicated that he would follow shortly.

Once they were out of earshot, Ben turned his attention back to you, his expression unreadable. "You did alright", he remarked, his tone casual but tinged with a hint of something else.

You met his gaze, feeling a mixture of relief and tension in the air. "Thanks", you replied, your voice slightly hoarse with emotion. "Guess I still have a lot to learn".

Ben's lips quirked into a smirk as he took a step closer, the air between you charged with an undeniable energy. "Don't worry", he said, his voice low and teasing. "I'm sure I can teach you a thing or two".

As the evening wore on and everyone settled into sleep, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror, contemplating your options. Unsure of what Ben wanted from you, you decided that your grandma panties would be better left in the closet.

Examining yourself in the mirror, you opted for something a little more alluring, selecting a pair of underwear that hugged your curves in all the right places. As you slipped them on, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation mingled with nervousness.

You approached Ben's room with cautious steps, the anticipation building with each quiet footfall. As you pushed the door open, you found him sitting shirtless on his bed, a joint dangling from his fingertips while he scrolled through his phone.

The soft glow of the screen illuminated his features, casting shadows across his chiseled chest. You hesitated at the doorway, unsure of how to proceed. With a deep breath, you entered the room, the door clicking shut behind you.

Ben looked up at you, a smirk playing on his lips as he took in your appearance. His gaze lingered on you with a mixture of amusement and desire, sending a shiver down your spine.

"What are you waiting for?", he asked, his voice low and husky. "C´mere."

His invitation was both a command and a plea, and you felt yourself drawn to him irresistibly. With a nervous smile, you approached the bed, anticipation building with each step.

As Ben set his phone aside, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. He sat up slightly, his eyes roaming over you appreciatively.

"You look good", he murmured.

You felt a blush creep into your cheeks at his compliment, the warmth spreading through you at his gaze. "Thanks".

As Ben pulled you onto his lap, his hands firm on your hips, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation mixed with nervousness. Despite the intimacy of the moment, he didn't make any further moves, leaving you to wonder what he was thinking.

You shifted slightly, trying to find a comfortable position on his lap, the tension between you palpable. "What are we doing?", you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure of what to expect next.

As Ben brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle yet possessive, a shiver ran down your spine. His fingers lingered for a moment, his gaze locked with yours, before he spoke.

"Just sit still", he murmured. Despite the simplicity of his words, there was an underlying intensity that made it impossible to disobey.

You complied with his command, you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, his eyes tracing every curve and contour of your body. Despite your efforts to suppress the nervous fluttering in your stomach, the intensity of the moment was undeniable.

Ben's hands remained firm on your hips, his touch both possessive and reassuring. "Good girl", he murmured, his voice low and tinged with satisfaction. "Just like that".

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your racing heartbeat as you focused on maintaining your stillness. With Ben's eyes on you, every moment felt charged with anticipation, each passing second heightening the tension between you.

"You know, I could make it even more enjoyable for you if you'd let me", Ben whispered, his voice a low murmur against your ear.

Despite the ache throbbing between your legs, you refused to let on to Ben about your discomfort. With a forced smile, you brushed off his suggestion, trying to conceal the twinge of pain that shot through you with every movement.

"I'm fine", you replied, your voice strained as you shifted slightly on his lap.

Deep down, you hoped he wouldn't press further, unwilling to admit to the discomfort that lingered beneath the surface.

Ben's lips curled into a knowing smirk as he observed your strained expression, well aware of your attempt to downplay your discomfort. His usual indifference softened slightly as he decided to play along, his tone laced with teasing amusement.

"Sure you are", he replied with a playful glint in his eyes. "You're not fucking sore at all, are you? All that fighting practice must have toughened you up".

You simply shook your head.

Ben leaned back slightly, studying your expression with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “Alright, tough girl”, he teased, his tone light but his eyes searching yours. “If you say so”.

Despite his teasing, there was a subtle warmth in his gaze, a silent reassurance that he was there, even if he didn’t verbalize it. He wanted to prove to you, in his own way, that he wasn’t as callous as others perceived him to be.

You met his gaze with determination, refusing to let your discomfort show. “I’m fine”, you insisted, your voice firm, now pushing aside any sign of weakness and pain.

“So, if you’re really not sore”, he began, his tone suggestive, “You up for another round?”.

Your cheeks flushed at his bold question, but you held his gaze steadily.

Seeing your flushed cheeks, Ben couldn't help but feel a surge of amusement mixed with a tinge of curiosity. "Come on", he urged, his tone coaxing. "You can tell me how you really feel. I won't bite".

You hesitated, torn between wanting to maintain your facade of strength and the desire to be honest with him. After a moment of internal struggle, you sighed, conceding to his persistence. "Okay, fine", you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe I'm a little sore".

Ben's smirk softened into a gentle smile as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. "There, was that so hard?", he teased, his touch light against your skin. "Don't worry, I won't hold it against you", he winked.

As Ben's hands traced lazily over your hips, slipping under your top and skimming along your sides and back, you couldn't help but shiver at the sensation of his touch against your soft skin.

His touch was surprisingly gentle, his fingertips dancing lightly over your curves as if exploring every inch of you. "You're so soft", he murmured.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the fluttering in your stomach as his touch sent tingles of electricity coursing through you. "Ben", you whispered, your voice barely a breath as his hands continued to explore your body.

Ben's touch lingered on your skin, his fingers tracing the bruises on your hips with a mix of curiosity and guilt. "I won't fuck you", he murmured, his voice soft but firm. "But touching should be allowed".

You sucked in a sharp breath at his words, feeling a surge of conflicting emotions wash over you. Despite his insistence on not taking things further, the heat of his touch ignited a fire within you, a primal desire that threatened to consume your self-control.

His gaze met yours as he traced the marks on your skin. "I didn't mean to hurt you", he admitted quietly. "I guess I underestimated my strength".

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in as you struggled to find the right response.

Ben’s touch softened as he spoke, his fingers stilling on your skin as he met your gaze again, this time with sincerity.

“I’m not a bad guy”, he began, his voice quiet but earnest. “But I’m not exactly good either. I’m just… not used to every situation like this”. He paused, his gaze flickering to where his fingertips lingered on your skin. “Especially when it comes to…”, he trailed off, gesturing vaguely to you, unable to find the right words.

Your heart fluttered at his words, the sincerity in his eyes stirring something deep within you. "When it comes to what?", you asked softly, your curiosity piqued as you searched his eyes for answers.

Ben hesitated, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting yours again. "When it comes to… you", he admitted quietly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I don't… I'm not good at this", he added, his words trailing off as he struggled to find the right way to express himself without sounding vulnerable.

Despite knowing you shouldn't push Ben too much, your curiosity got the better of you. You were beyond curious about what he was trying to say.

"About me?", you pressed gently, hoping he would open up further.

But Ben's expression hardened slightly, a hint of frustration flickering in his eyes. "Forget it", he muttered dismissively, his tone tinged with a hint of defensiveness. "It doesn't matter".

Before you could press him further, Ben cut you off by leaning in and kissing you with such passion that it took your breath away. The intensity of his kiss made you feel like you were soaring, momentarily distracting you from your questions and uncertainties.

As Ben turned you both, his body hovering above yours, he deepened the kiss before trailing his lips along your jawline. Between kisses, he murmured, "You know I was patient with you, right? I didn't rush you when we… you know".

His words were soft, almost pleading, as if he wanted to convince you that he wasn't as bad as Annie and the others insisted.

As the intensity of the moment enveloped you both, your voices turned into whispers, matching the intimacy of the scene. Ben's hands traced softly along your sides, his touch gentle yet electric as he continued to pepper kisses along your jaw.

"I know I can be a handful", he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "But I've always been patient with you, haven't I?".

His lips continued their featherlight exploration over your skin, tracing every contour of your face and neck with painstaking slowness. The sensation was intoxicating, consuming your senses entirely.

With a soft sigh, you whispered in response, your voice barely above a breathy murmur, "You have…always been patient".

As his lips lingered against your skin, he paused for a moment before lifting his head slightly to meet your gaze. "I always made you feel good, right?", he asked, his voice low.

You met his gaze, the intensity of the moment almost overwhelming as you whispered back, "Yes, Ben".

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours. "Good", he murmured, before capturing your lips in another searing kiss.

As the kiss deepened, Ben's hands gently cradled your face, his touch tender yet possessive. Between breathless moments, he whispered, "You know that Blondie and the rest just hate me? I would never hurt you".

His words sent a jolt through you, realizing that he had overheard your conversation earlier. Despite the intimacy of the moment, his vulnerability hung in the air, a silent plea for understanding.

With a hint of possessiveness, he continued, his voice laced with urgency, "They don't know you like I do. I wouldn't let anyone hurt you".

His words resonated with a protective edge, revealing a side of him you hadn't fully seen before.

With a determined edge to his voice, he added, "When I'm on that mission for the next two weeks, I need to know you're safe. And I don't want any other man near you, understand?".

With a hint of shyness, you asked, "But why? We're not together".

"I won't touch you ever again if anyone else does", he stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Ben's lips curled into a smirk as he added, "And trust me, sweetheart, you wouldn't want to see me angry if someone else lays a finger on you".

"And just so we're clear", Ben continued, his voice low and possessive, "this pretty pussy is mine now. Got it?".

As Ben's lips trailed down your neck, he sucked lightly on your skin, urging you to answer with a low, demanding growl.

"Tell me", he murmured between kisses, his voice husky with desire. "Whose pretty pussy is it?".

You hesitated for a moment, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Yours", you finally whispered, your voice barely audible above the sound of your racing heart.

Ben's lips curved into a satisfied smirk against your skin as he heard your response. "That's right, doll", he murmured. "All mine".

Ben's smirk turned into a mischievous grin as he leaned back slightly to meet your gaze. "And since you're too sore for me to fuck you properly", he teased, his voice low and suggestive, "I'm gonna eat that pretty pussy of yours so good, you won't be able to think about something else for the next two weeks".

As Ben's lips trailed down your body, leaving a trail of hot kisses in their wake, a shiver of anticipation ran through you. His touch was electric, sending tingles of pleasure dancing along your skin.

You let out a soft sigh as his lips hovered just above the waistband of your shorts, the anticipation building with each passing moment. "Ben", you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looked up at you with a wicked grin, his eyes dark with desire. "Don't worry, sweetheart", he whispered huskily, his breath warm against your skin. "I'm gonna make you forget everything but me".

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 14

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch @mimaria420 @kaz11283 @uncle-eggy @jackles010378 @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @mostlymarvelgirl @meowmeowyoongles

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #the boys #billy butcher

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octoberautumnbox · 26 days ago

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Happy Anni-box-sary!! :DDDD

Whew! It's been a year since I've started writing on this platform (and in general fsgsdjkfghjadskfh), and what a wild ride it has been. Ups and downs scattered throughout the year, but I really wouldn't have it any other way :uwuge:

All that said, let's move onto the box 2024 recap!

Yuri fics I've written: 8

Fly in the Night Trip

Love in the Night Train

Juicy Juicy

Friday

Adrenaline

Enjoy

I Got All I Need

Like It Like I Love It

buncha drabbles I didnt count, some of them fluff, some of them angst, all of them box 📦‼

Yuri fics other people have written: 6

@fillinforlater's Friends that can Keep a Secret

@birchleavesdawn's Bitter Taste

@xshadowdelta's Former Manager pt. 1: Back in Town

@usedpidemo's Cruel Flower

@prael's Reality

@leafostuff's Operant Conditioning

Non-Yuri fics I've written: 11

in my best attempt not to double count when there was more than one idol in the fic (lmao),

1 for soloist Chaeyeon

1 for Kiss of Life

2 for woo!ah!

2 for tripleS

2 for Kep1er

3 for fromis_9

Funnest fics to write:

Hell Week: despite not doing sins's prompt justice, I really did enjoy how I built Yubin and OC's character, even as the writer i fell in love with how sweet Yubin came to be, and while I do think the sex could have been fluffier, i do like how i wrote the ending :DDD

Cute and Caring Noona from Apartment 424: i think deep down inside i knew the apartment thing was gonna come back, even at the time, though i had to promise myself it wouldn't be a series. Yujin and Xiaoting are still a killer duo i'd love to write but it wouldn't fit that well with what i've decided on what the apartment fics will be, instead i'm going with the direction that The Sultry and Pervy Soda in Apartment 307 went and go from there

Like It Like I Love It: EASILY my top 1 from this year. it was everything reader box would have wanted in a yuri fic: a casual relationship, a possibility that there's something more in it, hot sex (literally), and just the right amount (maybe a bit too little) of showing off babygirl yul. i really hope this isn't peak box but going back to why i started writing in the first place, which is that i wanted to see more quality yuri fics, this was something that if i were still a reader would have sated me for at least another year. good job box!

Idols/Groups I've come to know:

Kiss of Life: I think they debuted before me? I noticed Natty first bc ofc I did 😭 but quickly fell in love with how Bobsky just vibes so well with them aaaaaaa

tripleS: I started paying attention around Girl's Capitalism but I knew of them since Generation. I still know only like ten of them and still need to look up whether they're of age or what number S they are but I've written the group thrice now so worth :DDDD

Kep1er: zozi was tough for wizones and I'm not exception, so there was a lot of animosity to this group starting out. I only really started loving this group because of choiyuj, and it was me falling in love with that tiktok that cookies n seggs noona was ever made and it's been upwards ever since

Collabs:

One Heck of a Joyride with @leafostuff: simultaneously this took way too long and not long enough LMAO we started in Feb and released in May, if u can remember Best Job Ever and Like It Like I Love It came out in May too so that was hectic for me. but it's my first and to date only long fic and I hope someday to surpass it in terms of word count and idol nuguness :sitt:

Prompts:

@i-am-lifeform24's Curated Companions: this first major prompt I took part in, where I wrote Dito Muna Tayo :nolookk: it got me attention I didnt know how to feel abt (I still don't tbh) but it was a major step in the right direction to temper my expectations of myself: it reminded me to write for me

@msafterhours's Seasons: this was a major L for me jfkgjslahhf I wrote A Little Goes a Long Way, misunderstanding the prompt "Seasons" for "Seasoning" and making a cooking fic instead. it was a great laugh with him tho, and a memory I come back to fondly

@mintwithchoco's Favorite Song: I wrote Orange-Tinted Sunset with Sticky in mind but promising mint I'd break Belle's heart lmao, at the time my current favorite song switched from that to Nothing and it all just fell in place. I had the idea a long time ago for Haneul but this was the perfect chance to broaden my horizons yet again, and to my dismay it proved @0cta9on right that I kinda was okay at all three genres of fics that touched on after all :bearlazy:

Growth:

can't remember if I said it out loud on the tl but im not a serious writer! that just means that I dont consciously aim to improve how I write and I'm totally fine with the skills and style I have now, and any exp gained or skills learned is has been passively achieved

that said, I'm really so so happy with Fly in the Night Trip and Love in the Night Train. In my first ever fic i said i wanted my next work to be a smut, and that i would be able to write more of what i wanted on my blog soon. Enjoy was both of those, and i even got to write so much more of my ult bias throughout the year and then some. you could call it self-serving, or as @capslocked so eloquently put it, unconsidered readers, all of you. :sitt:

thats why im really happy to be able to come full circle with another fluff in Love in the Night Train, because i feel like it concludes such an awesome year in such an awesome way. id tell 2023 box that just keeping at it wouldve worked out so well, but the extra effort to write just a tiny bit better, to listen to @midnightdancingsol's advice, to stick with it even though work fucked us up (and still does) is going to be well worth it

Hiatuses: 2

ok obviously im not as proud of this one. but each time i did, it was me reevaluating how I run the blog and what sort of stuff I'm getting myself into. it was well worth taking a step back from writing and just figuring out what exactly I wanted to do, and the breaks did wonders for how I paced myself.

these were me asking myself questions that struck the very core of how I conduct this cacophony of a kpop smut blog. it made me aware of arbitrary rules I was holding myself to, and gave me a chance to do away with them. everyone has to clear out their inventory every once in a while, and these were mine :DDDD

Everything else:

ive stopped tracking notes bc I learned since I occasionally write nugu and non-smut to never expect 100+ and I'm always pleasantly surprised when I get there slfjglah but yeah, there's better things to keep track of like what I did above

these are what really matter to me: yuri, writing, and the community i've become part of. while I do think the 1022 club is a fun milestone to celebrate, anything else is a bit more work than i care to make a separate post about (except maybe on bluesky lmao)

at my core, im a glassy, a true fan of the little ball of sunshine that is jo yuri. i keep saying that as long as im able to make one of you lovely readers a fan of her too, i'll know i'm doing good! so to all you box followers, all you honorary glassys, please tune in to yuri! she just released her tenth(!!!) OST entitled Spring Days Pass, will appear in Squid Game season 2 which premieres on Dec. 26 on Netflix, and is bound to have a comeback lined up soon :cuteplead: please join me in supporting her! :DDDD

Aaaaand that's it I think? A wild ride for sure, and I'm happy to have spent it here doing what I love. Hopefully all you readers also show greater support to my fellow writers and friends on here, and as always, stay tuned for more box fics in the future!

Thanks for reading, and see you all in October Autumn Box season 2!!

#thought box #1022 club

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thegreenthepeacetheorange · 1 year ago

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I got the idea from our family's plant book. The place where we recorded those things you cannot trust to memory. The page begins with the person's picture. A photo if we can find it. If not, a sketch or painting by Peeta. Then, in my most careful handwriting, come all the details it would be a crime to forget. Lady licking Prim's cheek. My father's laugh. Peeta's father with the cookies. The color of Finnick's eyes. What Cinna could do with a length of silk. Boggs reprogramming the Holo. Rue poised on her toes, arms slightly extended, like a bird about to take flight. On and on. We seal the pages with salt water and promises to live well to make their deaths count. Haymitch finally joins us, contributing twenty-three years of tributes he was forced to mentor. Additions become smaller. An old memory that surfaces. A late primrose preserved between the pages. Strange bits of happiness, like the photo of Finnick and Annie's newborn son.

Did this passage make me cry on my reread? Yes, yes it did.

The fact that the idea comes from Katniss's family plant book (which she had already entrusted Peeta to become a part of). But now this new book is a project taken on by her new family, her chosen family: her and Peeta and Haymitch. The descriptions of what they write for the entries: the mundane, the ordinary, from the lives of these people who also showed so much beauty and care and kindness in the things they did, the way they laughed, the way they moved. And this is how they will remember them and honour them. This is why they fought against the Capitol and why they will continue to keep fighting to lead good lives, to make their deaths count. The fact that Haymitch remembers his 23 years worth of tributes, even with all the alcohol for numbing. And here he is with the two he helped to save, who he gets to rebuild some sort of life with, after spending 23 years alone. That they remember Finnick, who would've been sat at this table with them. That they include the happiness of his son who lives. The reminder that life goes on and there's something worth living for. And it's all so painful but so, so beautiful and heart-warming.

#the hunger games #mockingjay #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #peeta x katniss #everlark #finnick odair #annie cresta #primrose everdeen

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zepskies · 7 months ago

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Wake Me Up - Part 2

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: Thank you so much for your lovely responses on Part 1! Last week's angst was very physical. Now let's get into emotional...

Song Inspo: “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers.

Word Count: 6.4K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, PSTD, hurt/comfort, medical trauma and injuries…and a bit of Nurse Benjamin? lol

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 2: “All in Your Eyes”

At first, it was all shapeless color.

It felt like a small eternity before your vision cleared, and you dimly became aware of being in a hospital room. Your steady heartbeat clipped away on the monitor.

You had an IV in your hand and wires suction-cupped to your chest. Your raggedy clothes had been replaced with a blue paper gown, hidden under the blankets keeping you warm.

It was a slow process, and it hurt, but you managed to turn your head. You saw a man sitting in the corner with a laptop balanced on his lap. He typed with two fingers at a time, which reminded you of your grandfather. His brown hair fell over his furrowed brows, but his beard was well-trimmed.

His head soon rose, possibly feeling the weight of your gaze. His eyes widened a fraction, and he hastily closed the laptop and set it down on his seat before he went to you. You frowned when he came to sit at your bedside, and even touched your cheek with a gentle hand.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth. “How’re you feeling?”

You didn’t have the energy to lean away from his hand, but you did give him a look of weary confusion.

“I…I don’t…who are you?” you asked.

His green eyes went blank for a moment. His hand fell from your cheek.

Then he chuckled in disbelief.

“Eyes are barely open, and already you’re fucking around,” he said.

That confused you even more. You were saved from answering, however, when there came a knock at the door. A blonde young woman peeked in. She brightened with a shocked, but happy smile when she saw you were awake.

“Hey! Oh my God, you’re awake,” she whispered in excitement. She went to your bed on the other side and picked up your hand. It took you a moment to remember her name, but you did recognize her.

“A-Annie? What…what happened?” you asked. You didn’t recognize the roughness in your own voice.

Annie shared a sobered look with the man sitting beside you, and she looked down at you again.

“Oh, hun. What do you remember?” she said.

You tried hard to think…but you couldn’t. It was all blurry and muddled in your mind.

Then, it was incredibly painful. A sharp, piercing pain that permeated through your skull and rattled down your spine, waking up the rest of your body in the worst of ways.

You whimpered, and the monitor began to beep more incessantly as your heart rate began to climb. You uttered a cry of pain while you held your aching head. You felt the gauze wrapped across your temples, forehead, and under your chin, half-covering your face.

The man turned to Annie with an angry frown.

“Get the goddamn doctor!” he snapped. But he reached for your closest hand and held it gently. He met your tearful eyes. Part of him didn’t know quite how to comfort you though. His eyes flit over your pained face, the way you were gripping your head with one hand.

He brushed his thumb over the one he held.

“…It’s okay, I got you,” he said eventually. “Just breathe.”

You couldn’t respond. There was too much pain, too much confusion. The last thing you saw was the worry in his eyes, before your head fell back against your pillow.

Your world faded away once again.

Dr. Helen Jeong, the neurologist Grace hired specifically to attend you, had been with you for a while. When she came out, Ben, Annie, your mother Marie, your sister Louisa, and the rest of the team (except for Butcher) were in the waiting room. All of them wanted to hear how you were doing, as well as the doctor’s prognosis.

Ben stood with his arms crossed, and Marie and Louisa followed suit. Technically, Marie was your next of kin, considering you and Ben weren’t married. She was close to tears again, but Louisa was supporting her.

“She’ll need a few more tests to confirm, but it looks like dissociative amnesia,” said Dr. Jeong. “It could be selective. Meaning, she remembers parts of her life, but not others, specifically tied to the past few days and the past year.”

“And me,” said Ben. He was frowning angrily. “Why doesn’t she remember me?”

She gave him a patient look.

“Her skull is fractured, but she’s also gone through an emotional trauma, as well as a physical one," she said. "The memories she’s lost are likely linked to that trauma, and so, her brain is trying to block out anything related to that painful time. It’s the body’s way of coping.”

Somehow, that explanation didn’t make it any better. Something dark and unfamiliar had been churning in Ben’s gut for days, but now he was forced to reckon with it.

It was guilt, and it was eating at his insides, clawing up to his throat. He covered it up with a hot layer of anger.

“Aside from time to heal from her injuries, it’s important that she be taken care of in a familiar, low-stress environment,” said Dr. Jeong. She aimed that last bit at Ben.

“How long until she’s better?” Louisa asked. “Will her memories come back at all?”

Ben shot her a dark look for even asking that question, but the doctor bobbed her head.

“It may take a while. Weeks, or even months, but have patience with her. As she heals, and with therapy, her memories should come back eventually,” she said. She gave Ben in particular a more reassuring glance.

He wasn’t interested in being reassured. He wanted results.

The doctor moved on so she could schedule an MRI for you, among other tests. Annie went over and laid a tentative hand on Ben’s arm. He glared at her touch and slid his gaze over to her.

“Look, we’re here for her…and for you,” she said. Even though she withdrew her hand, she looked sincere. “Whatever she needs, just let us know.”

Hughie was just behind her with a sympathetic look of agreement. M.M., Kimiko, and Frenchie were quietly supportive, if somber. You’d recognized Annie and Hughie earlier, but the others were strangers to you as well—likely because you’d met the other two at Supe Affairs, before you took on one fateful mission that would lead you to Ben. And him to you.

He let out a breath and gave Annie a minimal nod.

She smiled a little, and she and Hughie went back into your room to say goodbye for now. They promised to come back and visit, along with the others.

Meanwhile, Marie and Louisa were talking quietly. Ben’s ears perked up to it.

“I think she should come stay with you, Mom, until she’s better,” Louisa said.

When Ben heard that, he approached them. His darker frown was back in place.

“She’s coming home with me,” he said, in a tone that boded no argument. He should have remembered that your sister was too much like you sometimes. Fucking stubborn.

“If she doesn’t know you, she’s not going to be comfortable with you,” Louisa pointed out.

Marie gave her daughter a look, one that said she could’ve had a little more tact there.

“The best way for her to get her memories back is for her to stay with me, in a familiar place. In her home,” Ben said, his voice terse and shoulders tense.

“But trying to remember is hurting her,” Louisa said. “She needs to heal from her injuries first. And oh, how about this? No one will even tell us how the hell this happened in the first place!”

Ben’s frown deepened. Your younger sister had been warming up to him a bit more since the Christmas holiday you all spent together last month, but it seemed she was just as protective of you as you were of her.

Fine. Ben understood it, but Louisa was just a college student, not even old enough to order a fucking beer. He wouldn’t have this little girl telling him what was best for you.

However, as he glanced at your mother, he also couldn’t bring himself to answer Louisa’s non-question. At least, not with the whole truth.

“It was retaliation,” he replied, “for a supe we put away a while back.”

Louisa sighed heavily. Her lower lip trembled as tears welled up in her eyes, and she bit her lip and shared a look with her mother.

“Why did they want her though?” Louisa asked Ben, sniffling.

He held the tremor of unease deep inside, and he thought fast.

“He had connections in the CIA. She was the only part of the team here at the base, so he singled her out,” he said. The lie rolled off his tongue without much effort, even though part of it did add to the dark churning in his gut. His gaze fell beyond them.

“All of this is a moot fucking point,” he said. “All she needs is my blood, and she’ll be just fine.”

Louisa wiped under her wet eyes and scoffed.

“You think she’s going to accept a blood transfusion from a supe? Look, I’m sorry, but she’s not the person you know right now—”

“All the more reason to fix this sack of bullshit,” Ben snapped.

He turned on his heel and headed for your room. By now, Annie, Hughie, and the rest of them had cleared out. You were dozing, it seemed, but your eyes opened when Ben thundered in, followed closely by Marie and Louisa.

“Ben,” Louisa warned.

“What’s going on?” you asked weakly.

Ben shook his head and went to your bedside. He took up your hand and didn’t notice (or ignored) the apprehension in your eyes.

“Look, I know you think you don’t know me. You’ve been through…a lot,” he said. He paused when he considered the hell you’d probably endured the past few days. His gut began to roil again, but he pushed forward.

“Last year, you got hurt. Bad enough that you were going to need surgery,” he explained. “But I gave you some of my blood, and you healed right up. I’m gonna do the same for you now.”

You saw that he was serious, that he probably believed he was telling the truth. You just didn’t know this man—this supe that they’d told you was actually Soldier Boy. Instinctively you tried to pull your hand out of his grasp.

“No thanks,” you said, trying to hide your nerves. “I think I’m good healing on my own.”

Ben frowned. He held your hand a fraction tighter.

“Look—”

“No, you look,” you said in frustration, and a frisson of wariness. “I know you think I’m your…girlfriend or life partner or whatever the fuck, but I don’t know you.”

Just as the words left your lips, something sharp and painful flashed in your skull.

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

“But you do. You fucking know me!” Ben insisted. His grip on your hand tightened enough to make you flinch, a whimper sounding in your throat.

“Hey!” Louisa snapped at him.

“Ben,” Marie said, more gently, but not without urgency.

He realized what he was doing, and he forced himself to relax his grip. He watched you take your hand back and look at him like he was some kind of animal. He also realized then that you were scared. Scared of him.

Fuck me…

By degrees, he relented. Heaving a sigh, he carded a hand through his hair and gave a short nod.

“All right,” he said, and he met your eyes. “I’m, uh…I’m sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

He held your wary gaze until you nodded in acceptance. He took in your face, bruised, and still stained pink from the blood that had been cleaned away with antiseptic wipes. Your neck, arms, and chest were the same; your other wounds were stitched up and bandaged.

According to the first doctor who evaluated you after you came out of emergency surgery (Ben had already forgotten the broad’s name), you’d also sustained broken ribs and a fractured cheekbone, aside from your other injuries.

“And…what about the rest of it?” Ben had asked. He spoke alone with the doctor, just outside your room. Marie and Louisa were in there with you now in the ICU.

The doctor shook her head, offering a look of professional reassurance.

“No. There’s no evidence of sexual trauma,” she said.

Ben took that information in with a nod. Inside his chest, however, the clenching around his heart eased a great deal.

But even with that relief, just your battered face, and the way you were looking at him now…it was all too much.

Ben ignored the voice deep inside that said this was what he deserved.

He stood up, and he left you with your family.

While Louisa had to go back to her dorm for school tomorrow, Marie stayed with you that night. You zoned in and out while New Girl played on the little TV on the wall.

Marie caressed your hair gently, though she was mindful of the way most of your head was wrapped after surgery to fix your skull. If only they could fix your mind too.

“That man…” you trailed. “Um, Soldier Boy. All that crazy shit he was saying…was it true?”

Marie gave you a look for your use of language, but she nodded gravely, and with sadness.

“Yes, Ben was telling the truth,” she said. “He’s the one who saved you. Believe me, he’s very upset that you’re hurt like this.”

You tried to process that as you frowned in contemplation. He’d certainly been…pushy. And determined, like he could actually heal you.

It didn’t matter though. You weren’t about to let a supe feed you his blood like a damn vampire, or whatever Compound V-tainted shit he tried to give you. You weren’t Bella Swan, and this wasn’t fucking Twilight.

“Ben” was rough, and demanding, and gave off a real assholish exterior. Just before he left, though, you also saw his upset. He had taken in your injuries like he was angry, just at the state of you. Like he was mad that he hadn’t been able to prevent it.

“I guess he went home,” you said. Marie shook her head.

“No, he’s still here.”

Your brows knitted together. “What?”

“He’s in the waiting room downstairs,” she explained. “Grace made sure he had a special pass so he could stay with us in the hospital, just in case…”

“In case of what?” you asked. Marie smiled and continued to brush your hair back.

“In case we need him,” she said. “For protection, he said.”

Her eyes shone with sadness again, like she knew something you didn’t. It made you suspicious, but you were surprised that he was still here, despite what you’d said to him.

…Huh, you thought.

Thanks to the (fucking awesome) power of morphine, you fell asleep shortly after.

A week later, you were still recovering in the hospital. The shitty fact of it was, between the medication for your injuries and the risk of pulling your stitches, you could barely move. Dr. Burke was pleased that you at least had feeling in your extremities. One of her main concerns for you had been mobility issues.

Well, you still had to use a bedpan, and sometimes you missed your mouth when you ate pudding, but at least you could feel your feet.

Marie took the whole work week off from her job in order to stay with you. Louisa visited you every day she could after her classes, but she had a recital coming up, and you didn’t want her to lose focus. You encouraged her to only come if and when she finished getting in all the practice she needed.

And Ben…well, he came often. Mostly when you were sleeping. And every time you woke up, you saw something new from him: a beautiful bouquet of flowers, imported chocolates, a snack from the deli down the street from the hospital, a good breakfast from your favorite café in the city, or even several orders of takeout for you, him, and Marie.

You also noticed how your mother doted on him almost as much as she did on you, offering to grab him cups of coffee, or laying her blanket over him while he napped in the big lounge chair close to your bedside.

The guy just refused to leave. So you didn’t say anything about it. You just watched him whenever you were lucid enough to notice he was there.

As it became easier for you to stay awake, and to observe his quiet, but solid presence, the more your wariness of Ben bled away.

You soon began to realize that you were curious about him. If you really had been with him before, how had you two met? And what had made you get with a supe, let alone the original supe Vought ever introduced to America?

You considered him now while he dozed in that uncomfortable looking chair. His brown locks had once again swept over his brows, almost obscuring his eyes. Part of you itched to lean over and brush it all away from his face. If only you were close enough.

You could admit, if just within the safety of your mind, that he was a damn fine specimen of a man. Between the cut of that bearded jaw, the broadness of his arms and chest, the length of those widespread legs…

“Keep staring at me and you’ll wear a damn hole in my face,” he muttered.

You inhaled sharply, and his eyes cracked open. A small smirk raised his lips in amusement. You smiled as well, more in embarrassment at being caught.

Ben let out a long breath and rolled the cracks out of his neck, confirming your assumption that the chair was even more uncomfortable than it looked. You felt a bit bad for him, that he was putting himself through all that for your sake…for someone who didn’t remember him.

He turned to you in askance. “How’re you holding up?”

You shrugged.

“Okay. Pain meds are finally kicking in, at least for the hour.”

He nodded, dragging a hand over his beard. He knew that you’d eaten lunch with your second dose of the day not too long ago.

“You still hungry?” he asked. “I don’t know how they could give you that shit. What was that, some poor fucking excuse for baby food?”

“Whatever it was, it wasn’t pleasant,” you agreed, but the doctor had requested something you could easily digest, with all the medication you were on.

Ben shook his head and rocked onto his feet. He’d get you a candy bar or something. He knew Twix was your favorite.

“Um…Ben,” you said, halting his steps. He turned to you with a raise of his brows. You pointed over to the folded quilt at the foot of your bed. Your mom had brought it from home.

“Would you give me that blanket over there?” you asked. “I’m a little cold.”

You’d get it yourself, but it pained you to fold yourself over. Ben was gracious enough to go over and get the blanket for you. He even opened it up and covered your body up to your chest. His face was stoic, more or less, but there was care in his hands. You found yourself staring up at his face. He leaned against the guardrail of your bed and met your eyes.

“Thank you,” you said, in a near whisper. “And, um…my water?”

You pointed to the plastic cup and jug on the rolling tray to his left. He shot you a look, but he did as you asked, pouring some fresh water into the cup and handing it to you. His fingers brushed with yours on the pass, but you tried not to focus on the warmth of his hand. Instead, you took a few sips from the cup and handed it back to him. He set it back on the tray for you.

“What’d I do to get the hot nurse?” you couldn’t help but tease.

Ben’s brows rose again, somewhat incredulous this time. Then, he was unable to restrain a cocky smile.

“Hmm, I’m a let that one go, since you’re laid up,” he said.

His gaze roamed your face. He noted that your purplish bruises were easing up somewhat, to green and yellow. Your lacerations were beginning to heal. And before, where there had been wariness, he now saw curiosity in your eyes.

“Can I ask you something?” you drew enough courage to ask.

His lips twitching to one corner, he lowered the guardrail and sat down on the edge of your bed. He gave you an expectant look. You sucked in a breath to steel yourself.

“How long have we been a…a thing?” you asked, pointing between the both of you.

Ben quirked a brow. “About a year now.”

You nodded, though your eyes were wide in surprise. You actually began to blush.

Ben smirked. He reached for the phone in his pocket and handed it over to you, after scrolling to find his photo album.

“Does that look like we don’t know each other?” he asked.

You shot him a wry glance, but you took the phone and started looking through the album. Many of the pictures that featured both of you looked like ones you’d taken, just from the angle. One picture was rather innocuous of him sitting on a couch, presumably watching TV, while you rested on his shoulder and smiled at the camera. His arm was wrapped around your waist.

Another was of you glaring at him in surprise, mid-bite on a large chili hot dog. He wore a Cheshire grin while leaning in close to your cheek.

There were several more than you flipped through, but each one made you sting with the unfamiliarity of it all. You couldn’t remember any of this, but it was undeniable what you and Ben were to each other.

Then you happened on a picture of just you, fresh out of the shower with a towel barely wrapped around you. You looked annoyed, but by the evidence of your smile, also amused that he’d surprised you with the picture.

Your blush intensified as you scrolled past that one. Then you encountered more pictures of you and him, each position filled with more bare flesh—and even more compromising than the next. You refused to press play on any of the videos.

“Oookay,” you said with a full flush heating your face and neck, and the tips of your ears. You minimized the album and all but tossed the phone back at him.

Ben’s smirk had deepened the longer he watched you peruse through the pictures. Now he chuckled and pocketed his phone.

“Like what you see, huh, sweetheart?” he couldn’t help but tease.

Frankly, you were adorable, getting all embarrassed, crossing your arms and pulling the blanket up to your neck. You shot him a look of warning.

What, you could eye him like a honey-glazed ham, flirt with him even, but you couldn’t take a little on the return side?

Ben chuckled some more and reached for your hand, to uncross your arms. You allowed it with a thinly veiled wariness. You weren’t afraid of him…anymore. But that didn’t mean there was no reason to keep your guard up around this guy.

Meanwhile, Ben actually struggled to figure out what he wanted to say to you. Something that wouldn’t put you off, or come off too strong. This was just too fucking strange…

He met your gaze with a heavy exhale.

“You’re going to be let out of here soon enough,” he said. “You don’t need to be scared of me. I’m not gonna hurt you. Matter of fact, I saved you.”

I’ve saved you more times than I can fucking count at this point, he thought wryly.

You stared back at him in contemplation. He sensed you were listening, really trying to hear him.

“You do care about me, don’t you?” you asked, almost in wonder.

Ben didn’t answer you right away. Your question took him off guard a bit, but he also found himself meeting your gaze.

“I think that’s pretty fucking obvious,” he said. You frowned at him then.

“Not entirely," you said. "Not if you don’t say it, Romeo.”

Ben stilled. Against his will, he remembered the last real words he’d said to you before this nightmare began.

“I love you,” you’d said. He could hear your pretty smile through the phone. “Just wanted to make sure you knew that.”

“Mhmm,” Ben replied, smiling himself. “I’ll see you soon, baby doll.”

He could also hear your disappointment, there in your brief silence.

“Come on, say it,” you implored.

Ben restrained a sigh. He cast a subtle look from the corner of his eye, watching Butcher, M.M., and Kimiko loading the car with their weapons, along with the supe they’d captured. They were all too close for comfort.

“Say what?” Ben asked, feigning ignorance. Your sigh reached him, stinging him.

“You know exactly what,” you replied.

He knew what you wanted, but he still didn’t give it to you.

He didn’t allow himself.

Now, he brushed a thumb over the back of your hand, and he sighed. Sometimes, regret weighed just as bad as guilt, even if you couldn’t admit to either one.

His gaze now slid up to yours.

“Well, I do… I care about you,” Ben said.

You’re fucking mine, his selfish heart added. He just didn’t think you’d react well to that admission.

“What do you say about coming home with me?” he asked. “I think being around all your stuff will help you…get better.”

You debated his proposition, and you realized his idea made sense. If this man was really your boyfriend, and you’d been living with him for a year…then maybe you could trust him.

Just not entirely.

“I want my mom to come too,” you said.

Ben smiled. It was a small, but true smile, and it took you by surprise. But you only felt your face getting warm again when he pressed his lips to the back of your hand.

“Yeah, she can come help me take care of you, ‘til you’re feeling better,” he said.

You regarded him for a moment, still wondering if you could trust him. The longer you stared into his eyes, the more you found yourself relenting.

“Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll go with you.”

After you were finally discharged from the hospital, Ben drove you and Marie out of the city to his apartment in Scarsdale. Technically, it was your apartment too.

He promised that it had been fitted with a much better security system, now with motion cameras around the apartment, and sensors on the roof. (You didn’t know that Hughie would have to explain to Ben how all that shit worked on his phone.)

The apartment itself was familiar to you, but it felt fuzzy in your mind. Like you had a dream of being here, living a life that wasn’t yours.

Thanks to the stairs, Ben left your bags at the foot of them, before he carefully maneuvered you into his arms without pressing on any of your stitches. You sucked in a shaky breath and held onto his shoulders, squeezing your eyes tight for a moment as the movement jostled your sense of equilibrium.

“You okay?” he asked. You blinked your eyes open and met his. His brows were furrowed in concern, but it was the intensity of his eyes that stole your breath. Part of you wanted to smile, half out of nerves, but you tempered it.

“Peachy,” you replied.

His lips twitched. He then moved carefully up the stairs.

He set you back down on your feet once he reached the top, at your insistence. Marie came in from behind with her suitcase and your forearm crutch, but Ben still kept a supporting arm around your waist.

“I’ve got it,” you told him, a bit nervous and hasty to escape his hold.

He released you, and reluctantly watched you head further into the apartment on your own two feet (and crutch). You wandered into each room like you were looking for a damn portal into Narnia.

It was hard for Ben to watch you like this. With a sigh, he went back downstairs to grab the rest of your things. He set them down in the living room while you ambled off into the guest room. Marie touched his arm in comfort.

“It’ll be okay, honey,” she said.

She’d developed a soft spot for Ben not too long after meeting him. And though he’d never admitted it, the sentiment was reciprocated.

He didn’t answer her, but after a moment, he nodded. She rubbed his arm with a faint smile and went to check on you.

Marie soon found you in the office you and Ben shared. It didn’t look like he used this room often, while your desk was covered in papers and files. It did, however, smell like his cologne in here.

Or, well, the scent was masculine and woodsy—like sandalwood and spice (and a hint of weed, as evidenced from the ashtray on his desk). You had to assume the scent belonged to him, even though you didn’t think he’d worn cologne at all in the hospital. Or maybe you just inherently recognized it as his.

Huh. Smell is the strongest sense, you mused to yourself.

The thought of you remembering anything at all from what you’d lost had you the slightest bit excited, and nervous. Dr. Jeong said you’d been through a terrible trauma. The evidence of it now littered your body and had nearly broken you. So you were fairly certain that there were things you didn’t want to remember.

The touch of your mother’s hand on your shoulder had you jolting. You breathed in relief when you saw her. Her eyes widened and she held up placating hands.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” she said. “You okay?”

You nodded, though you continued to take in your surroundings with a small frown. She helped you sit in one of the office chairs, as your strength was already waning.

“It seems like everything he said was true. It’s just…it’s a lot,” you said.

“Of course it is,” said Marie. “But if it helps, you seemed very happy here. You were just glowing all night with him at the Christmas party.”

Great, yet another event that was entirely blank in your mind. If you couldn’t remember celebrating your favorite holiday, then what was the point? You huffed.

“I just find it hard to believe that I’d end up with a supe,” you admitted. You worked at Supe Affairs for God’s sake.

Marie only laughed and rubbed your back.

“Well, you found a good one,” she said.

A good one, huh? you shook your head in true wonder.

Now that was food for thought.

When you first arrived, Ben had led you to the master bedroom and said it was your room. So why the fuck was he climbing into bed with you?

“Excuse me,” you frowned at him, drawing the blankets closer over your body. You only had on a large shirt over your underwear. It was how you preferred to dress for bed, and it was easier than pulling a pair of shorts over the healing scars on your legs.

Ben had on a gray shirt and some plaid pajama pants. He’d shucked off his old man loafers before making the right side of the bed dip with his weight. He raised a brow at you.

“What?” he asked.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked.

“Going to bed, sweetheart. Been a long fucking week,” he retorted.

“I thought this was my bed,” you said.

“It’s our bed,” he corrected. He grabbed the edge of the blanket to pull some of it towards him, but you pulled it tighter against you.

“Look,” you said flatly. “I agreed to come here and stay with you, but I didn’t agree to this kind of close quarters.”

Ben stared back at you in annoyance and willed his temper not to snap. So fucking what if he shared the bed with you? It was a California king. The odds of your bodies even touching were slim to none.

However, he saw that stubborn look in your eyes. It was all too familiar.

Christ on a cross. He forgot how goddamn difficult you were in the beginning.

And really, you two were at the beginning, all over again. He’d gotten you to trust him, slightly, but he knew the rest would take time.

Is this really fucking worth it? came an insidious thought deep inside. The selfish part that had ruled for most of his life.

Then, he spied the silver Rolex on his nightstand—the one you’d gifted him for Christmas, along with the photo album that you’d put together for him. It included the only pictures he kept of his mother, and new ones you’d made with him. They were pictures you’d collected and captured of your life together so far.

With a deep sigh, Ben wordlessly got out of bed. He grabbed up his pillow and a throw blanket that had slid to the floor, and he made his way to the living room. Marie was taking up the only guest bedroom, so he supposed he was relegated to the couch in his own home. How the fuck did that happen?

He sat down heavily in the middle of the couch and had to take some deep breaths. His head slowly fell into his hands, elbows resting on his knees. With both hands, he tried to rub the exhaustion and frustration from his face.

There were words he couldn’t say. However, within the safety of his mind, he was forced to reckon with it.

This was his fault. He knew it, down to his bones.

It was all really his fucking fault.

He should’ve gotten you a protective security detail from the beginning. He just didn’t think anyone would have the balls to…

Ben breathed past the tightness in his chest that was once again clawing at his throat.

Well, this fucking blows like a cheap whore, he thought.

And as you might expect, he slept fitfully that night.

The next morning, you winced at the ache in your head that was now customary for you. You had practically drowned in this giant-ass bed, but the reality was, you’d barely slept. You just couldn’t get comfortable enough to stay asleep.

You didn’t know if it was because it was an unfamiliar place, or because you now had a lower dose of pain meds than you’d been given in the hospital, or if it was because there was just something missing here.

You sighed and hauled yourself out of bed to freshen up. Really, you should’ve waited for your mother or Ben to help you out of bed, but you weren’t used to being incapacitated like this. And even when you were down, it had been ingrained in you (through your father’s special brand of “parenting”) to play through the pain.

So you grabbed your crutch from beside the bed, and somehow you managed to make it to the bathroom by yourself.

After dressing in sweatpants, a bra, and a tank top, you padded out into the hall. Your mom was still sleeping, but you found Ben in the living room.

He was sprawled out across the couch. Half the covers had slipped off his body and pooled on the floor. Again, you tried not to admire the length and broadness of his form, and the way that shirt stretched across his chest and arms.

His arm was curled across his closed eyes, but he lowered it when he heard you approaching.

His eyes were a bit red and bleary. It didn’t look like he’d slept very well either. You felt bad for that, as you leaned on the back of the couch to greet him.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” you teased him a little. “You slept like shit out here, didn’t you?”

“What was your first damn clue?” he groused. You had a feeling he was grumpy in the morning, regardless of how well he slept.

“Okay, I’m sorry about that,” you said. Even though you had every right to sleep alone, you still felt bad for making him sleep out here. “How about I make us some coffee?”

He nodded with a grunt. You smiled and teetered only slightly on your way to the kitchen. Ben frowned as he realized it.

“You shouldn’t be walking around like that yet,” he called after you.

He forced himself to get off the couch, rolling to his feet. You shot him a stubborn look.

“I’m fine,” you said.

Ben’s frown deepened with annoyance.

…Right. Okay, you weren’t exactly fine.

You were still exhausted. Still felt like utter crap, as stiffness pulled at your muscles and pain at your stitches and broken ribs. And, oh yes, your head was still broken.

But, this was the most mobile you’d been in a few weeks. You were determined to do at least one normal, productive thing today. Even if it was just making coffee, then you were going to count that as a win.

By the time Ben joined you, the coffee was done percolating and you handed him a mug. He took a sip before he remembered to tell you…no cream.

He looked into the mug in wonder. You’d actually made his coffee with sugar, no cream. Just like he liked it.

Noticing the look on his face, you paused.

“Oh, sorry. I forgot to ask how you take it.”

“No,” he said, sitting across from you at the breakfast bar. “It’s just right.”

You blinked in surprise, but then you shrugged and sipped at your own cup of coffee, which had both cream and sugar. While you were preoccupied with brainstorming where to order in for breakfast, Ben allowed himself to smile a little.

You were in there, somewhere.

He just needed to help you come out.

AN: See? I promise, there's hope. 💚

(But there's also still drama ahead...)

Next Time:

“We’re not gonna have this discussion again. You need to fucking eat,” he said. “I could feed you, though I promise you’re not gonna like it.”

His surly, frowning face was annoying you. His deep voice was annoying you. His tall, ridiculous wall-of-man body in your line of vision was annoying you, clothed in a rumpled shirt and the sweatpants he’d slept in.

Everything about him annoyed you right now.

But that could also have something to do with the pounding ache in the back of your skull, radiating forward and between your eyes.

“Bro, I’m on like, three kinds of medication,” you replied in weary irritation. “With what appetite do you expect me to eat?”

Bro? His eyebrow twitched.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD/Series Tag List (Part 1):

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28

@nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022

@emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky

@kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun

@lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420

@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx

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seeingivy · 8 months ago

Text

sofia

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

previous part linked here

songs mentioned: champagne problems by taylor swift, when emma falls in love by taylor swift, and minor sofia by clairo insinuation (+ the name of the chapter)

“Can I ask for a favor?” Eren asks.

You look up to find Eren and Armin standing in front of the dining table, both leaning on the backs of the chairs. The first whiff you get is a mix of sweat and deodorant, and you instinctively push your notebook closer to you and nod.

You hate that Eren and Armin work out together.

Not really, of course. You’re glad that Armin was able to find some type of segway that felt comfortable enough for him to interact with Eren, that they were slowly building back whatever it was that they lost.

You just hate that Eren always wears that stupid headband to keep her hair back and insists on wearing a tank top – or no shirt at all – for the five mile run they do at the end.

You’re lucky that today is the former and not the latter.

“Yeah, what’s up?” you ask.

Eren places the little glass bowl in front of you, before giving Armin a nod, and sliding into the chair across from you. Armin takes his leave with Annie at his side, before giving you a passive wave over the shoulder.

The first thing you note is that Eren’s fish tattoo is on display. It’s one of the few moments that you get to admire it – the physical reminder of you inked on to his arm – since the makeup team is always covering it up or he’s wearing a jacket.

And the second is that Eren doesn’t really fit in the chair – because his legs are overstretched and hanging against the sides of the legs – and he nearly falls back when he moves a little too much.

It’s crazy to think that there was a time that you and Eren would have your feet dangling in the air from how high the chairs used to be.

You eye the little bowl, before reaching forward for it, and taking it in your hands. There’s only two little requests left, though you swear yesterday that you only had one left – which was Eren’s.

“I know I technically already have a request in there. But could you please do another one for me?” Eren asks.

“Sure. Which one is it that you want me to pull? The green slip or the pink one?”

“Oh, no. It’s a separate request. I need you to write a song about Mikasa for me.” Eren responds.

“Ah, yeah. Sure.”

You reach forward into the bowl anyways and pull both of the slips out but Eren’s quick to reach forward and snatch them from your hands, much to your dismay.

“Hey!”

“I just asked you to write a different song. Why did you take both of these out?” Eren asks.

“Why are you in such a rush? I already have a song about Mikasa somewhere in one of my books, I just need to find it. I’m more curious about who added a request yesterday because there was only one left last night.” you respond.

“It’s part of my gift for Mikasa. The wedding is next week, idiot.”

Shit. You had yet to plan what you were going to give Jean.

Eren looks back at the little slips, before tucking the green one closer to him and handing you the pink. You take it in your hands and find Sofia’s name scribbled over the top and open the slip.

“It’s Sofia.”

You pale when you read the slip.

write a song with historia about how she said no to ymir’s proposal. (please!!!! if you can!)

You hand it over to Eren who reads it before setting it down on the table.

“Just don’t sing it at the end, especially if Ymir is there.” Eren responds.

“I…do you think I should? From my very limited information, I think Ymir would hate it if Historia wrote another song about her.” you respond.

“That information is very limited because you refuse to talk to Historia. And Ymir won’t talk about it unless you ask, which you won’t.” Eren responds.

You slouch back into your chair.

“I’m not refusing to talk to her. I’m just in my nice….ignorance is bliss bubble. I like Ymir and Sofia but I also like Historia. I don’t want to get all complicated with the feelings if I know everything that happened.” you respond.

Eren rolls his eyes.

“You’re already mentally siding with Ymir because you know that Ymir got on her hands and knees and begged Historia to be with her after she said no to the proposal. And because you like Sofia.” Eren responds.

“Can we go back to when you weren’t calling me out on my shit? What gift are you getting, Mikasa?” you ask.

Eren smiles, before leaning forward.

“For the record, I…I sided more with Ymir and Sofia too. Or did originally at least. I feel like you’ll run into the same thing as me, but we can’t really hold it against Historia. She just has different priorities than us and picked differently than we would have, but it doesn’t mean she’s wrong. And I’m making Mikasa an edited video and I want the song in the background to be about her. Preferably written by her best friend.” Eren responds.

“Do you think Historia will hang Sofia at the stake for requesting this?” you ask.

Eren shrugs.

“I’m positive that Sofia just requested it because Historia’s been making lots of snide comments to Ymir all week. And saying stuff about Sofia that she eventually finds out about. Everyone’s been telling her about how the songs and stuff have been helping them with their own situation, so she might have just seen it as a segway. Just don’t tell Historia who asked for it and make it seem like it’s your idea. I don’t think Sofia meant ill will.” Eren responds.

“No. No, I don’t think she meant anything malicious either. She’s so sweet. And she must feel awkward since we all grew up together and she’s the other woman, or something” you respond.

“Yeah, she is really sweet. She kind of reminds me of you, sometimes.” Eren adds.

“As if. She reminds me of you – she literally has the same dimples.”

Eren scoffs.

“Lots of people have dimples. I would look like half of the people on the planet by that logic. She actually reminds me of you, when you first got here. She’s just so…” Eren responds.

“Normal.” you respond.

Eren sighs.

“Yeah.”

You choose to withhold your comments about how you're not that type of normal anymore. And it sours all together – because that was one of the things that Eren really loved about you when you first started dating.

Eren gives you a smile before making his move to leave. But he stops before he retreats to his room, his hand is warm on your shoulder as he squeezes.

“Still the same in all the ways that matter. To me, at least.” Eren mumbles, before walking off.

You sigh.

If Sukuna was still here, he’d call you hopeless. And you’d have to agree with him.

You find Historia on set, intently watching Eren and Armin while they’re filming. You take the seat next to her, reaching forward to squeeze her shoulder and catch her attention, as she shuffles to the side and makes space for you.

“Hi Hisu.” you whisper.

“Is the Y/N L/N finally gracing me with her presence?” Historia responds.

You roll your eyes.

“Shut up.”

You feel a tiny smack, before you turn around to find Levi glaring at the two of you. And the guilty culprit – the pencil he projectile launched at the two of you.

“You two shut up.” Levi warns, before walking back to where he was standing at the viewfinder, with Hange.

You both smile, like you’ve been caught passing notes by a teacher, before looking back down at the script to the scene that they were filming.

“So what did you think?” Armin asks.

“About what?” Eren asks.

“About Y/N?” Armin asks.

You lean forward, tucking your legs close to your chest, as you watch them.

“The makeup team did really well with the hair.” Historia whispers.

“Yeah. It almost looks like he still has the man-bun.” you respond.

“Which hair was your favorite?” Historia asks.

You pause.

“I like the length it’s at right now. But, I kind of liked his short hair, like from before. Sometimes I feel like when his hair is too long it kind of drowns everything else out, like his eyes and stuff.” you respond.

“Imagine thinking you’re not in love with the guy but talking about him like that.” Historia grumbles, as you reach to shove her in the side.

“Who said I think that?” you respond.

You watch as Historia’s eyes widen and you turn back to the two of them.

“Do you think she’ll be able to forget about you and live happily with someone else? Just like you wanted.” Armin asks.

Eren shrugs.

“Well. Who knows?” Eren asks.

Armin reaches forward and punches Eren in the face. You bite down on your cheeks to stop yourself from flinching, as you turn to your left to find Reiner and Connie shoving their faces into their own scripts to avoid distracting them with their laughter.

Reiner and Connie never got over laughing at immature stunts. Like punching each other.

“The hell kind of answer is that? I still haven’t forgiven you! How do you feel about the fact that you ignored Y/N’s feelings?” Armin screams.

You bite down on your lip. The deja vu feels uncanny.

“Y/N risked her life and only ever had eyes for you. Did you really think you could say forget about me and it would be just that?”

Sometimes you wonder if Eren’s a sadist for writing scenes like this into the show. You’re positive Levi must have insinuated the same when he suggested the entire thing to him.

“At the very least, Y/N should forget about a heartbreaker like you and find happiness. She might find a good guy sooner than you think and hit it off with him.” Armin responds.

It comes out quietly – Eren’s voice. Almost like a whimper.

In all honesty, you had almost forgotten he was there for a second, with Armin’s screaming. But when you look over, you find Eren sitting there in the water, with tears streaming out of his eyes.

“No. No, that would kill me.” Eren responds, his voice breaking.

You press your hands to your cheeks, letting your fingers block out the periphery as you watch the two of them, and feel your chest compress. It’s almost like you can feel everyone else looking at you – Jean and Mikasa, Historia at your side – and you choose to ignore it for the time being.

“I don’t want her to find someone else. I want to be her one and only for the rest of my life! And after I die, I want her to pine after me for at least ten years!” Eren responds.

Armin pauses, lifting his hands to tousle his hair.

“Oh. I didn’t think you’d say something so…pathetic…” Armin responds.

Eren sighs, shoving his palms into the sockets of his eyes to still the crying.

“Don’t tell Y/N any of this. I want her to find happiness. I really do…I don’t want to die. I can’t leave Y/N…or any of you.”

Armin crouches down, hands heavy on his shoulders, as he pleads.

It’s enough to make the wave of discomfort bubble up in your throat – because it’s the exact same as last time. And even in the fictional version, Eren won’t heed anyone’s advice.

“Eren! Let’s keep trying! Let’s find another way!” Armin screams.

You can’t watch them anymore. You reach for your script, giving Historia a smile, before you retreat to the dressing room and give Levi a wave as you pass. You can tell that he shoots you a concerned look, which you shake off, before you settle into one of the makeup rooms at the back and slam the door behind you.

“We don’t need you till later.”

“Yeah, I…just needed a breather from out there. Do you mind?”

The stylist shakes her head as you shoot her a smile and settle into the chair. You lift the script again, still open on the page that they were just shooting out there, as you pause.

You focus more carefully this time on the lines. You had read this scene when Eren wrote it – way back when, when he and Armin were still fighting. But Eren had given you the second half – about meeting each other in hell.

You never read the part that he just said because Eren never wrote it. The only line that he was actually in the script was the first one, about how it would kill him.

He had improvised the rest.

It was like a lingering thought that was in the back of your mind at all times.

Now that your previous excuse, that you needed everything to be settled before you could even think about Eren, was virtually gone.

You had done the awards show, you had given your performance. And as annoying as it was, Eren was right. The heaviness of letting go was because now you had to move forward, because that chapter of york ife was sealed now. Danny and Sareen, Scott Clarkson and Hyla, Ricky even – they were always just going to be a footnote from here on out.

Which is why you spent all three days of the break that Levi and Hange gave you thinking about Eren. About what would be the right way to approach him again. And every idea that you came up with seemed horrible, not good enough to bring him back.

Deep down, you knew that Eren wanted you. That some part of him still loved you, and that if you made the move, he wouldn't reject you.

The fear was what came after that. What if your relationship wasn’t the same? What if you two had changed too much, that there was just too much baggage that you both came with, that it would eventually drag you down?

Then you’d really lose Eren forever. It almost felt safer to keep it the way it was now.

But that came with its own mess. Because Eren wouldn’t wait for you forever and if you had to watch him move on with someone like Sofia, the same way Historia had to watch Ymir, you’re positive that you would handle it worse than her.

There’s a knock on the door and it’s almost like you’ve summoned her by thinking about her. Because Historia’s peeking into the room, gesturing for you to follow her out. And you oblige, as the two of you quietly march back to the townhouse, arm in arm.

Historia takes you straight to her room. And you note the sign scribbled on the door, how Historia’s crossed Ymir’s name out as you walk in. You both settle into the sheets, Historia throwing the throw blanket over the two of you, as you stare up at the ceiling.

It’s quiet. And the thoughts are racketing around in your brain like a pinball machine.

“I’m getting deja vu.” Historia states.

You laugh.

“Tell me about it.” you respond.

“Can I tell you something that won’t help in any shape or form?” Historia responds.

“Please.”

“He improvised all of those lines.” Historia responds.

“I knew that already. I realized it when I went into the stylist’s trailer.” you respond.

“Well, he kept going after you left. He’s either down horrendous or he really wants to win an award.” Historia responds.

You smile.

Eren probably would win an award for this. And if he was lucky, he’d win Actor in a Leading Role – and actually get to celebrate it this time around.

The thought of getting to win a triple threat again crosses your mind, but falls dead in its tracks. No one’s ever gotten it twice. And it was insinuated enough that it was more of a…lifetime achievement award, so your chance was already out the door.

“So. You said no when she proposed to you?” you ask.

She doesn’t respond. You look over to find her staring at the ceiling, her eyes almost blank. You reach for her hands under the blanket, following her lead instead of asking again.

You can only imagine how agonizing it must be to watch someone as…nonchalant as Ymir beg on her hands and knees.

“I would have married her.” she whispers.

You feel your chest tighten, as you pinch your eyes shut. This is exactly what you didn’t want to hear.

“I-I really would have, I swear. I just wasn’t ready.” Historia repeats.

The retort is on the tip of your tongue. How were you not ready when you’ve loved Ymir since you were kids?

But then again, you’ve loved Eren since then you were kids too. And you have yet to muster up enough courage to go for him, when he’s standing right in front of you basically waiting for it.

“It was really perfect. She had invited everyone to fly out and come watch us, after I was done touring. Levi and Hange were there, Sasha and Jean, even Erwin was there. And they were all watching from afar and…and she…”

Historia pauses.

“I…I was already crying when she started by saying my dear, Historia. I could see the little box in her hand and I knew what was coming. And then she….she dropped to her knees.” Historia starts.

She shakes her head, almost like she’s trying to rid herself of the mental image.

“I always had this stupid running joke, ever since we first got together, that Ymir would never humble herself to propose on her knees. That…that was never really her style, to do something like that even though I’ve always wanted someone to propose to me like that. I’m more traditional and…and Ymir really hates that type of shit, so I just figured she wouldn’t do it when the time came.”

You sigh.

“I only knew the answer was no when she actually got on her knees and asked me. Because��because if it was me, I…I wouldn’t ever do that for her.” Historia adds.

“What?”

“I wouldn’t do that for her. If getting on my knees and proposing wasn’t my style, I wouldn’t get on my knees and propose. But…Ymir would, for me. And I know it’s fucking stupid and not that serious, but I just…”

Ymir loved Historia, more than Historia loved her.

“I couldn’t say yes in good faith… because I wouldn’t give something up for her like that. Or…or for anyone, at that time. Even if it was something as trivial as where you stand while you’re proposing.” Historia states.

You pause. You can tell what she’s trying to get at, though the comparison is hardly fair.

“Well, your career is hardly trivial to you. But in all honesty, I don’t think you’d lose your career if you were a popstar who was gay.” you note.

Historia sighs.

“I know you don’t feel the same way. I know that…that a lot of you don’t and that…that I must seem stupid but. But –”

You hear her sniffle, turning your side to note that there’s tears flowing out of her eyes.

“I’m not a bad guy for wanting to keep my career the way it is now. I’m not the villain for saying no to her proposal and not wanting people to know that I’m gay. Getting to make music, being in shows like this – it’s what I love. You know that most things like this are…are temporary anyways. I still need something I can fall back on.” she responds.

You deflate. There was a small part of you that was hoping that she would deny it. That this wasn't really the reason that she said no. You lean closer to her, resting your head against her shoulder.

“No one thinks you’re the bad guy, Historia. And you’re not the villain for wanting to keep your own life private. We…we just don’t like that you think you can’t be a popstar and be gay at the same time. There’s….there’s so many people who are successful. Just look at Hange.”

Historia shakes her head.

“Hange…doesn’t count to me. I had even tried to talk to them about it, but…it didn’t really apply. They even agreed with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hange blends in more than I do. Then Ymir and I would. They’re dating Levi and...if you didn’t know, you would think they’re a straight couple. On the outside, when they walk on red carpets together, they still look normal to people. But if Ymir and I…”

“It would be different. There would be no question.” you respond.

“You know that Hange gets overlooked for certain opportunities, right? Imagine if it were me. I’m not charismatic like Satoru Gojo and…and maybe I don’t want to have to forge my own path. I get that it’s glamorous to do things like this to some people but…it feels unfair that everyone else gets to do things normally but I have to be some trailblazer just to get to the same place.”

You don’t know what to say. Because it makes complete sense to you. And she had checked you on what you had been thinking yourself.

That Historia was insanely talented and that she’d continue to prove herself just as she did before people started doubting her. That when she came out of it at the end, people would love and praise her – for going above and beyond mere expectations that were put on her and staying true to herself.

But it wasn’t fair. And you know well enough now, there’s nothing glamorous or fulfilling about climbing your way to the top like that. To have people speculate on every portion of your life, especially something so sacred like the ones you hold ear. To expect Historia to do it would be unfair.

Eren’s words echo through your mind. Just because her priorities aren’t the same as ours doesn’t mean she’s wrong.

It’s a silent thankfulness you have – that you and Eren are on the same page. You wouldn’t be able to handle it half as well as Ymir if he wasn’t. If he had picked his career over you.

“Things like love aren’t temporary, though. You could have fallen back on her when things got hard.” you murmur.

Historia scoffs.

“You don’t believe that.” Historia seethes in response.

“I do. There’s…there’s so many examples of it around us.” you respond.

“I know that everyone’s on a high because Jean and Mikasa are getting married next week. But you weren’t here when they were fighting. I promise you, no part of that was pretty for Jean. She gave him more hurt than he deserved.”

“But they moved past that! They love each other now.”

“But not everyone does. Not everyone gets to rock bottom and climbs their way out – and in fact, most people don’t. Jean and Mikasa are the exception, not the rule. If you didn’t think that was true, you and Eren would be going to the wedding as a couple.”

You sigh. She’s wrong. She’s so wrong – but you can’t throw it in her face.

“It doesn’t seem like you really believe it either.” you respond.

Historia shrugs.

“Two things can be true at one time, Y/N. I can believe in love but know that Ymir and I are hopeless. We have been since she kneeled.”

You reach for your notebook, which you had discarded on the floor, and for the shitty pen that was left in between the pages and scribble on the first open spot you find.

sometimes you just don’t know the answer till someone’s on their knees and asks you

The question bites at you. Historia still loves Ymir.

“Would you say yes if she asked you now?” you ask.

“Yeah. I think I would.”

“Even if she got on her knees?”

“I’d crouch down just to be there with her.” Historia responds.

The earnestness in the statement makes your heart crush. She was already too late.

“What do you think about Sofia?”

Historia rolls her eyes.

“It’s irritating how likable she is. Like it actually pisses me off.”

You snort. That sounds familiar.

“Lacy, oh lacy…” you hum.

“You’re not funny, bitch.” Historia responds, reaching to shove you in the side.

You both laugh.

“I wrote a few songs about her and Sofia. No one knew it was about them, but…but Ymir knew. Sofia knew, but she was too nice to say anything about it. I wrote this song called traitor, because technically, Ymir actually knew Sofia while we were still together. And she got mad because…”

“Because how is she a traitor if you’re the one who said no…” you finish.

“Yeah. It…it really hurt, Ymir. And maybe I did that on purpose, just because…I never actually expected her to move on. It felt like a betrayal to me.” Historia adds.

“I know you’ve been making…comments here and there. To Sofia and Ymir. I know you don’t like her, but…you made your bed, Historia. You have to lay in it now.” you respond.

She doesn’t respond.

“I think Ymir and Sofia just want what’s best for you. Sofia is the one who wanted me to write a song with you about it, just…just so you could get some of it off of your chest. We all want you to be happy.”

Historia pushes up off the bed, hiking her knees to her chest, as she buries her face into the hardness of her knees. You can tell that she’s racking out a sob, her breaths heavy, as you wrap your arms around her, resting your head against hers.

“Historia–”

“If Ymir wanted me to be happy, she would have gotten back together with me when I asked yesterday.” Historia mumbles.

You cringe.

“Don’t tell me you –” you murmur.

“We…we were talking about how nice it was to be around each other again at the funeral. And Ymir was saying that…that I’d always be someone who would bring comfort to her, just like I did to her then. I thought she was trying to say that it was always going to be me so I asked. I begged her this time. And she said no.” Historia adds.

“Historia, I’m so sorry. You–”

She shakes her head. It’s almost like you’ve hit a brick wall, because instead of talking further, reaches for your notebook and scribbles the words onto the page with you. You can tell that the conversation is over, and that in true Historia fashion, she’s so stubborn she won’t touch it again.

Wwith your permission, she rips the page out of the spine. The look she spares you over her shoulder before walking out of the room is haunting.

Eren pops his head into your room an hour later.

“Can you do me a favor?” Eren asks.

“Can you stop asking me that?” you retort back.

“My response is contingent on your answer.” Eren

“Yes. I can do you a favor, Eren. What is it?”

Eren smiles, holding his hand out to you, as he all but yanks you off of your bed.

“It’s not really a favor. I just wanted you to come into my room. Gabi and Falco are trying their outfits on for the wedding.” Eren responds.

You smile as you walk straight across into Eren’s room, to find Gabi and Falco sitting eagerly on the couch. There’s four big boxes in his room, freshly delivered from the courier, as you take the seat next to Eren on the bed.

“Okay. Falco, this is yours. Gabi, you can change in Y/N’s room and Falco take the bathroom. And don’t rip anything or you’re both going to the wedding naked.” Eren instructs.

You watch as the two of them burst out into a fit of giggles, before they shuffle into their respective rooms with the hangers stretched over their shoulders. You turn to Eren, tapping on your thighs, as you wait for them to come back.

“Your dress is here, too. If you want to try it on.” Eren offers.

“Oh! Yeah, maybe I will. Are you going to try yours?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I might.” Eren responds.

It’s swelteringly awkward. You have no idea what to say.

“I…found the song I wrote about Mikasa. Nico and Armin put together a backtrack for me so I’ll send it to you.”

You watch as Eren’s eyes light up.

“Thank you so much! I really hope she likes it.”

“She will. You know how sentimental she is, I-I think she’s really going to love it.” you respond.

“Speaking of. What are you getting Jean? I am morally obligated to hang you at the stake like it’s the Salem witch trials if it’s something bad.”

You roll your eyes.

“I actually need your help with my gift for Jean.” you state.

Eren dramatically places his hands on his chest.

“It’s your lucky day, Y/N! I live to serve. Especially when it’s you.”

“When did you get so theatrical? Are you on something?” you state, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Not only am I extremely helpful, but I’m really generous too. I’ll give you some of my fix.” Eren responds, returning the energy back in full flesh.

“Not me getting the princess treatment! What did I do to deserve this?”

Eren shoves you in the side.

“Shut up. What do you need my help with?” Eren asks.

“Well…”

It’s right at that moment that you hear Falco and Gabi’s giggly voices again, as they both run into the room. You immediately press your hands to your cheeks and nearly squeal at how cute they both look – and specifically melt at Falco’s bowtie matching Gabi’s dress.

Seeing Falco wear suits is less cute than it was when he was a kid. Only because he looks like a full grown person, instead of being a sweet little kid, and it makes your heart hurt at how big he’s getting.

You know that Falco can tell what you’re thinking and he preemptively complains about it.

“Y/N. Quit looking at me like that. You’re embarrassing me.” Falco states.

“Do you remember when you threw up on me in first grade? Don’t talk to me about being embarrassing.” you scold.

Eren shakes you off, before gesturing for Falco to walk closer to him. Eren’s readjusting the collar against the coat, tightening the tie, before he gets up and rummages around in his drawers.

“Okay, Falco. I’m going to let you borrow my cuff-links for the wedding, but you have to promise to take really good care of them, okay? These are really special to me.” Eren states.

“Really, Eren? You’re going to let me wear them?”

Eren reaches forward to lightly mess with Falco’s hair, before he hands him the box. Falco sticks his hand out as Eren secures them on for him, before offering him a smile. Falco’s sheer excitement makes your heart flutter – and melt that Eren so freely offered something of his own – as Falco excitedly shows them to Gabi at his side.

“You didn’t have to do that.” you whisper.

Eren shrugs.

“Of course, I did. It’s Falco.” Eren responds.

Eren turns back to the two of them, watching the excitement on his face, as they thank him profusely.

“What’s special about the cuff-links, Eren?” Gabi asks.

“I wore them at one of my first award shows where I won something for Attack on Titan.” Eren states.

Gabi curls her nose in disgust.

“Eren. You hate award shows. You don’t even care about awards!” Gabi complains.

“You’re right. I don’t. But, it was a pretty memorable one for me. Got my first tattoo, performed with Y/N for the first time.”

You turn to him, as he gives you a knowing smile, and you shake your head. And he has the nerve to call Mikasa over-sentimental.

“Wait, Gabi. I have something for you too.”

Eren watches as you quickly rush to your room, noting that you must really be rummaging through things in your dresser since he can hear you drop things and shout in pain, before you run back with a little blue box in your hands.

You hold it open for Gabi, as she admires the little earrings.

“Do you like them?” you ask.

“I love them, Y/N.”

“You can wear them at the wedding. Here, I’ll put them on for you.”

Gabi excitedly pushes her hair back, as you watch Falco with his lovesick eyes as he observes you fixing them. You tuck her hair behind her ears as you admire her dress in full, squeezing her wrists.

“You look beautiful, Gabi. They’re perfect.”

“Thank you so much, Y/N. I love you so much.”

You can’t help but frown as she presses herself into your arms, returning her warm embrace in full. You look over at Eren, who wraps his arm around Falco and smiles at you.

“Gabi! You’re going to be the prettiest girl at the party. You should have at least given Mikasa a fighting chance.” Eren jokes, as you watch Gabi shake her head and blush at the compliment.

“You’re corny, Eren.” Gabi responds.

“Do you have a date to the party, Gabi? It would make my night if the prettiest girl at the party walked in with me.”

Eren’s so sweet. It reminds you of how Levi used to be with Sasha.

“Sorry, Eren! You snooze, you lose. Falco already asked me.” Gabi responds, linking in her arm with Falco’s.

Eren clutches his hands to his chest, giving the two of them a dramatic display of hurt, before he puts his hand on Falco’s shoulder.

“Fair enough. You’re a very worthy opponent, Falco. Make sure you put the cuff links and the earrings back in the box nicely. And again, if you rip your clothes, you are going to the wedding naked.” Eren states.

It’s an innocent thought that crosses your mind. That Eren would be a really good dad, when it came to it.

The two of them wrap their arms around you again before they run out of the room again and Eren turns to you, narrowing his eyes.

“You’re a copycat. You only got the earrings idea from me.”

“You’re just bitter because she gave me a bigger reaction than Falco gave you.” you bite back.

Eren shakes his head, as he starts shuffling through the tagged clothes and looking for your dress.

“Have to ask. What’s so special about the earrings?” Eren states.

You smile.

“I wore them to Levi and Hange’s vow renewal.”

It was the first time you and Eren said that you loved each other. Eren turns back, giving you a soft smile.

“You’re a sap.” Eren responds.

“Takes one to know one.” you respond.

Eren places the dress at your side. You eye the silver beading through the little zipper, admiring Mikasa’s cursive handwriting on the little label.

“So what do you need my help with?” Eren asks.

“Oh. Well.”

You tap the open spot next to you.

“When we were going to the awards show, Jean told me something. I had asked him back then if he was delaying his wedding because you and I were fighting. He said that it wasn’t just that, but it was because…he wanted you as his best man and he was having a hard time letting go of that thought when it was how he always imagined his wedding.”

Eren nods. You figured Jean had told him as much.

“He said that he’s always imagined his wedding the same way. That Mikasa would have long hair, a short train but a long veil. That you would be the best man and I would be the maid of honor. And that we’d sing a song for them, one that we wrote together for their first dance.” you state.

Eren smiles.

“Fuck. Your gift is way better than mine.”

You laugh.

“Is not.”

“You’re giving Jean his dream wedding. I’m giving Mikasa America’s Funniest Home Videos.”

“She loves that show!” you defend.

“Alright, alright. I’ll help you write the song.”

Levi attempts to ban Connie from coming to set the day you’re filming the kiss scene. Naturally, Connie decides to sneak in by dressing up as one of the crew members, before he’s dragged out by the ear when Hange catches him.

You count yourself lucky that Hange and Levi had thought ahead and made sure that the cabin scenes were the last ones that you filmed for the show. Dead last – meaning everyone would have already been gone by the time you and Eren actually prepared to film them.

It was enough consolation that you’d be alone with Eren in the last few days, before it was all really over. Similar to the way it really started, just the two of you in the townhouse.

Eren’s sitting high in the makeup chair, lazily reading through the lines of the script, as the artists paint deep red lines into the sides of his cheeks. You give him a halfhearted wave as you take a seat a few feet away, cracking all your knuckles in nervous anticipation as they start powdering your face.

Levi and Hange walk over, hands on their hips, as they look over to the two of you for weary eyes.

“Are you ready?” Levi asks.

You give him a nod, Eren shooting two thumbs up to them, as they both squint their eyes. They don’t believe you.

“Just one kiss. It’s not a big deal – you’re both grown adults. And you’ve done it before! So it’s not awkward. If anything, it’s like a peck. Just a quick one and you’ll be good, Y/N.” Hange adds.

Eren glares at Hange.

“If it’s not awkward, why are you being weird about it?” Eren deadpans.

Hange deflates.

“Right then. Well, legs up in five!” Hange responds, before shuffling off to the other side of the room with Levi. You can hear the two of the murmuring under their breaths, rolling your eyes at how utterly disbelieving the two of them were of you.

You turn to Eren, the two of you giving each other a shared annoyed look, before you turn back and focus on the scene at hand. You watch as the entire crew tasks themselves with testing the lights, pulling the cameras into view, and scribbling quickly on the clapperboard.

It’s fairly simple. You just have to stand there and kiss him. No lines, no big confession – just one kiss.

The cast stages you and Eren – bustling hands fixing the lapels of your clothes, the stray strands of your hair as you and Eren look at each other.

“Hey.”

Eren smiles. He seems fairly calm, considering things. You on the other hand, you can’t help but feel that bubbling ball of anxiety pulsating in your stomach.

“Hi Y/N. How are you today?”

“I’m good. Good, good. You?” you respond.

“Great.” Eren responds.

You shove your hands into your pockets, wiping the accumulating sweat on the inside of the pants, when you feel the little plastic box in your pocket.

“I have something for you actually.” you add.

You pull the box of Tic-Tacs out of your pocket, before holding them out in front of Eren. He gives you a hearty laugh, before cupping his hands and holding them out to you and you pour three in his hand, before downing your own.

“That was very self-preservationist of you. But, I’ll have you know that I didn’t eat anything all day just to avoid this type of issue.”

You snort.

“No way.”

“They had pizza for lunch. God forbid I taste like marinara sauce when you kiss me. I’m not a dog.” Eren responds.

“I’ll admit. I did eat the pizza, but then I vigorously brushed my teeth for like five minutes.” you respond.

Eren smiles, placing his hands on his cheeks.

“All for me? I’m flattered, Y/N.”

You smile.

“Okay. So, like…do we need a gameplan? Do I lean towards the right? The left? Do you have a preference? Because I can –”

You watch as Eren’s eyes go wide, as he looks at you like you’ve grown another head.

You can tell that he’s trying not to laugh. You glare at him, huffing as you cross your hands over your chest.

“What?” you seethe.

“Are you…staging a kiss right now?”

“Just so we’re on the same page! You know, I don’t want to just lunge at you and catch you off guard.” you respond.

Eren smiles, before reaching forward and placing one of his hands on your neck. He uses his thumb to rub into the softness of your cheek, before narrowing his eyes at you. You can tell what he’s trying to say.

Relax.

“Okay, okay. I’ll just do what feels right. Sorry for being weird.” you respond.

Eren shrugs.

“S’not weird. I just think you’re overthinking it. We’ve done it hundreds of times. It’s on your move anyways, so you’re in control.” Eren responds.

“You guys ready?”

You and Eren look over at Levi and Hange, their legs crossed in the director’s chair, as you give them a nod. You turn back to Eren, who gives you a mini-salute, as you back up a few steps and shake your hands at your sides.

“Alright, Y/N, we’re rolling. On your move.” Levi calls.

It’s like your feet are cemented into the ground. You can feel the unease that had been pooling in your stomach all day wash over you as you become acutely aware of how thick and warm the air is. It’s almost like it’s weighing down on you – hanging heavy on your skin, nearly throwing you off balance.

You try to shake the feeling off, shutting your eyes before cracking each of the knuckles in your fingers. You can see it out of your peripheral vision, Levi shifting his head to the side to look at Hange, and the embarrassment bubbles in your throat.

“I’m good. I just need a second, sorry.”

Levi shakes his head.

“Take your time. Whatever feels right.” Levi responds, giving you a comforting enough smile.

It’s just a kiss. You’ve done it hundreds of times.

The walk towards him, though it’s only two or three steps, is excruciatingly long. The clothes are too starched, too constricting, as you reach forward, and press your hands to Eren’s cheeks. The makeup pressed to his skin comes off on your hand, as you tilt his head up – slotting your lips against his.

Eren’s quick with it. His lips quickly glide over yours, the familiar taste of the mint you had just offered him lingering, as he lifts his hands too, pulling your face closer to his.

Eren can feel it – your entire body freezing against his, like the first time he had ever kissed you. The urge to swoop in and fix it, even though you’re the one who was supposed to take the lead is too overwhelming.

He knows it’ll crush you if you don’t do it right.

(And maybe Eren’s a little selfish.)

You can feel the blood rushing to your head, as Eren brings his hands up – one hand cupping your cheek and the other one slithering around your back to pull you closer. You nearly gasp into his mouth as he leans forward this time, the softness of his hands making you melt in his hands.

It’s Eren. Tender, soft, and intoxicating. You don’t want to stop. You return the kiss in full this time, properly leaning forward and giving it back.

But Eren’s the one who pulls away, resting his head against your forehead, as he lightly squeezes at your neck, where his hands are resting. You’re both panting in tandem, eyes still pinched shut and foreheads pressed together, as you swallow hard and try to catch your breath.

“Hey guys. Quick note for you.”

You both flinch at the sound of Hange’s voice in your ears, awkwardly taking a step away from each other, as a different embarrassment washes over you. You avert your eyes from Eren and look at Hange, who shoots you a weird look before focusing back on Eren.

“Hm? What, Hange?” Eren mumbles. You can see him out of your peripheral vision – lifting his fingers and pressing them to his lips, a slight shake in his hand.

“Eren, honey. She just decapitated you. Like, cut your head off. You are dead.” Hange clarifies.

“Right?” Eren hums.

“So, you can’t use your hands to kiss her. You don’t have hands anymore! And…and that was way too lively for someone who is supposed to be dead. Tone down the excitement a little.” Hange responds before shuffling off, as Eren’s cheeks go bright pink.

Eren turns back to you, giving you a sheepish smile, as you shake your head.

There was no need to be embarrassed. Not when you were the one who led wrong and he was trying to fix it.

Not when you enjoyed that way more than you should have.

Eren watches as you march back to your spot, shaking your hands at your side, as you fix your hair. Eren turns back to look at Hange and feels the humiliation increase when they mouth something that looks an awful lot like touch starved.

Eren throws the thought out of his mind as he leans back again, tucking his hands behind his back. The situation is less than ideal, with his eyes closed – because Eren doesn’t really clock that you’re kissing him until you’re actually doing it.

It’s your sweet hands cradling his face and then the warmth against his lips – before he can feel himself sinking into your embrace.

You can tell that Eren’s more apprehensive this time, as you flutter your eyes shut and lightly bump your nose against his on accident. You pull him up closer to you, scanning his face and smiling, before you lean forward and rub into the skin on his cheek. You can’t help but smile as you lean forward, the anticipation palpable as you press your lips to his.

Eren can still feel his heart thrumming, at the way you’re so carefully holding him like glass, while making him feel like his body was on fire. He’s caught off guard when he feels your tongue against his, unable to contain his smile.

You pull back, your lips burning and skin humming, as Eren looks at you, with a soft smile on his face. You give his cheek a little pinch, which he responds to by giving you a wink, before Levi walks over – his hands crossed over his chest.

Eren groans.

“What did I do now?”

“Not you, Eren. Y/N. Well, you too, but she started it. Y/N, you just murdered the love of your life. LIke fully, had to be the one to murder him even though you didn’t want to because you were the only one strong enough to do it.”

“Right.”

“Could you not…smile into the kiss? You have no reason to be smiling.”

You cringe.

“Right! Right, so sorry, Levi. Won’t happen again.”

“Okay, because. You smile and then he smiles because you did. And again, just for extreme clarification, he is dead. This is supposed to be sad.”

Levi rolls his eyes, as he shuffles back to the chair. You spare him a glance while Eren isn’t looking and he mouths something that looks an awful lot like the word freak. You shake him off, as you turn back to Eren, giving him a sheepish smile.

“Sorry.” you offer.

“Not a problem. I love it when you smile.” Eren responds, running his fingers over his lips again before he drops them.

You can feel your head spinning.

“Okay. Last one.” you clarify.

“Third time’s a charm, princess.” Eren responds.

You walk back to the spot, before you wait for Levi to give you the cue. And this time, walk forward as slowly as you can and repeat it to yourself. No hands, no smiling, no tongue.

You reach forward, placing your hands around his neck, and lean forward. You slide your lips over his, circling your fingers into his neck to ground yourself into the touch rather than his intoxicating smell, as you kiss him. It’s overwhelmingly tender this time – the way you linger over him, before you pull back and let go.

But the second you pull apart, it’s an immediate pang in your chest. It felt too final.

“That was great guys! That’s the one.” Hange responds, as you look over and give them a smile.

You awkwardly drop your hands, letting go of Eren, as he offers you a polite smile in response, holding out his hand to give you a high-five. You oblige, slapping your hand into his, though you can’t help but notice that the smile he gave barely reached his eyes.

On your way out, you can feel the steaming that was pooling under your skin fizzle out as you walk out into the cold air, as you start marching on the pavement back to the townhouse. You prepare yourself for the unnecessary barrage of questions, and for how irritating Connie can be, as you push into the foyer.

When you walk into the main room, it’s unexpectedly quieter than you thought it was going to be, the faint sound of the piano getting louder as you walk closer. And when you push into the room, the quiet warmth that was blooming under your skin is replaced with an ice cold pinch when you catch sight of what’s happening.

Historia’s playing the piano, for the group of them.

Mikasa looks up at you immediately, giving you wide eyes, as you press your hands to your temples, and look to your left. Jean and Connie give you the same look, the group of you all sweltering in the awkwardness, as you avert your gaze back to Historia.

You booked the night train for a reason So you could sit there in this hurt

Bustling crowds or silent sleepers You're not sure which is worse

Because I dropped your hand while dancing Left you out there standing Crestfallen on the landing Champagne problems

Your mom's ring in your pocket My picture in your wallet Your heart was glass, I dropped it Champagne problems

Eren walks in right behind you, nearly bumping into you, as you press your hand to his forearm and squeeze hard.

“Wha-”

“Be quiet!” you whisper.

Eren gives you a puzzled look, as you watch his eyes scan around the room, and watch the realization register in his face. He looks down at you, giving you an awkward look, as you shake your head. The two of you avert your gaze to the left again, to find Sofia crying with one of her hands pressed to her chest.

How evergreen, our group of friends Don't think we'll say that word again And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls That we once walked through

One for the money, two for the show I never was ready, so I watch you go Sometimes you just don't know the answer 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you

"She would've made such a lovely bride What a shame she's fucked in the head, " they said But you'll find the real thing instead She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred

Watching Ymir is like watching someone get sucker punched in the face in real time. It reminds you of the same reaction that Eren gave you the other day, while you were filming, a visceral physical reaction. You watch as Ymir stumbles back, nearly loses her balance, as the tears start collecting in her eyes.

And even worse, watch as Sofia tries to reach for her but Ymir pushes her away.

And hold your hand while dancing Never leave you standing Crestfallen on the landing With champagne problems

Your mom's ring in your pocket Her picture in your wallet You won't remember all my Champagne problems

You won't remember all my Champagne problems

The second she stops playing, Ymir runs up the stairs – her feet leaving a pounding sound before the door slams shut. And you watch as Sofia takes a deep and heavy breath, before running out the front door.

You find Sofia two hours later, a block and a half away from the townhouse, on a bench. You reach down, picking up her bike off of where it’s toppled on the concrete, and rest it against the edge of the armrest, before taking the seat next to her.

Sofia doesn’t hesitate to talk – like almost half of the people you know.

“Is Ymir okay?” she asks.

You shake your head.

“Last I know, Eren and Mikasa went to talk to her. I’m sure they talked her down.” you respond.

Sofia gives you a nod, inhaling shakily, as she hikes her knees to her chest. You can barely see her face – the hood pulled over her head obscuring her face – as she presses her cheeks into her knees.

“I didn’t think she was going to sing it. I’m really sorry, I –”

“Did you know that Historia asked Ymir to get back together with her yesterday?”

You deflate.

“Yes. She told me right before I went to film with Eren.” you respond.

Sofia doesn’t respond. It’s chilling – to see someone you’ve only seen smiling for the past week and a half so defeated in one fell swoop. And even more than that, knowing how small it can feel to be competing with things that feel larger than life, in an entire world that you don’t feel like you’re a part of.

“Ymir said no. I know she really loves you.” you offer.

“I know she did. She came and told me right after it happened. She walked in all hot and heavy, nearly red in the face, pissed at the audacity Historia had to say that.” Sofia states.

She pulls her hood back, resting her head against the back of the bench, as she flutters her eyes shut.

“There’s nothing that…that gets Ymir moving like Historia. Whether she’s mad…or happy…or sad, no one can make Ymir feel as much as Historia does. If Historia and her have a good talk about how they’re always going to be important to each other, she’s on top of the fucking world. If she gets on her hands and knees and begs for her back, it’s enough to send her into a blind rage. And if she sings a song about how she got away…it’s enough to send her sobbing into her room.”

You swallow hard.

“I feel like I’m intruding on people who are meant to be. I don’t think I should be here.” she adds, her voice cracking.

You shake your head.

“Ymir really loves you, I-I can just tell by the way that she looks at you. It would kill her if you left, Sofia.”

She shrugs.

“I know I’m never going to be Historia. And I know that first loves and…and sexual awakenings or whatever are sacred to people, but…I can’t sit here when I’m not even a part of the competition. I’m smart enough to know when two people still care about each other more than they should. I feel like I’m committing a fucking crime by keeping them apart.” Sofia responds.

You bite down into the hardness of your cheek, before leaning your head against her shoulder. She welcomes the touch, leaning her own against yours before you break the silence.

“I don’t necessarily think you’re wrong. There isn’t anyone that gets Ymir going like Historia. But that doesn’t mean that they’re right for each other. It doesn’t mean that you aren’t Ymir’s perfect match.” you respond.

You shift.

“Just because Ymir gets to these big…big emotions with Historia doesn’t make her better than you. In fact, I think that’s the leg that you have up on her. Why you’re the one who is marrying Ymir and not her.”

“Really?” she whispers.

“I’m not sure how familiar you are with Jean and Mikasa’s situation but –”

“I know. Jean slept over at our house once when they were fighting. We ate ice cream together at three in the morning and talked till the sun rose.”

You smile.

“Jean told me that there’s lots of different types of love that you have in your life. And I just think that there’s one person…or one situation that deeply cuts into you, so hard that it changes you. I think that’s what Historia is for Ymir. Because to her, it must have been devastating that she would have done anything, that she could have changed herself any type of way, and she still wouldn’t be enough for her. I think that would get anyone moving, being reminded of the deep hurt, the complicated feelings that come with that person.” you respond.

You feel your phone buzz, as you look at the little screen.

[eren]: did you find her? [eren]: ymir wants to see her. [eren]: really badly.

You respond back, before turning back to her. You have to turn this around for Ymir.

“The big feelings aren’t the ones you chase after, Sofia. They fizzle out eventually, when the spark is gone. You pick based on comfort, on consistency. And Historia’s never…been consistent. She could never give Ymir what she wanted like you could. Like you do.”

Sofia gives you a halfhearted smile.

“You’re really sweet, Y/N. I really like you.”

You smile, your chest panging with hurt.

“I really like you too, Sofia. I hope you know that Historia didn’t do any of that to hurt you. She just…feels first, thinks second. It’s how she’s always been. And it’s not fair to you, but…but I hope you know it’s not personal. Or anything about you.”

Sofia puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Thanks.”

You can tell that she’s ruminating over your words and the two of you sit there quietly, dangling your legs over the side of the bench, as you wait for Ymir. Your stomach rumbles loudly, as you shoot her an apologetic smile.

“Sorry. I didn’t take my lunch after Eren and I were done filming.”

Sofia’s eyes light up, through the redness and puffiness.

“Didn’t you kiss?”

You groan. You only oblige the conversation because you know she means well.

“Yes. We kissed.”

“Was it hot?” Sofia asks.

You snort.

“Um…kind of. I accidentally used my tongue the second time.”

Sofia gasps, excitedly pressing her hands to her chest as she leans forward.

“The second time? Meaning you did it more than once?” you ask.

You bury your face in your hands.

“Three times. He…he got too into it the first time. Then I got too into it the second time. It’s supposed to be a really sad scene but –”

“But you guys are horny, I get it.” Sofia finishes.

“We’re not–”

“Ymir says you guys eye fuck each other. I thought she was being kind of crude, but you really do.”

You groan.

“Sofia–”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! You guys are actually really cute and I hope you don’t think we’re all pressuring you. I just think it’s really neat the little things you guys do for each other. Connie was telling me about the mints that you got him before you kissed.”

“Oh. Yeah. I was just kind of trying to break the ice so he was comfortable and stuff.”

“No, I totally get what you mean. Okay, like. The first time Ymir and I went on a date, I was so ready to kiss her – I had been thinking about it all week. And before we got into the car, I ate an entire box of Altoids.”

“An entire box? Doesn’t that get painful after a while?”

“Listen, she’s like way out of my league. I had to impress her! Plus, it gets rid of that doubt in my head when I lean in and stuff.”

“You wanted to impress her with minty breath?”

“Okay, don’t question my methods. She’s my fianceé now. After we kissed and I went home, Ymir told me that she really enjoyed it. So every time I went to see her, I would eat another box just so that she would enjoy it again.”

“You know that Ymir hates mints, right?”

“Is this just common knowledge that everyone knew or something? I literally had no idea. Mikasa told me a month later and I was fucking furious. God, I never bought another pack again.” Sofia complains.

“You didn’t? I thought you said it got rid of the doubt.”

“Yeah but, why would I? She doesn’t like them. I got over it.” Sofia states.

You pause, leaning your head back. You refuse to comment on it, because winning her over was Ymir’s battle. And you surely hoped Ymir would be able to do it, because this was, in fact, her perfect match.

Who would give up trivial things for her, like kneeling on the ground or chugging mints, just because Ymir asked. Just because it would make her happier.

“How did Connie know I gave Eren the mints? Hange kicked him out.” you state.

“Oh. He climbed onto the roof. That kiss was really important to him and Mikasa.” Sofia states.

You roll your eyes.

“Of course it was.”

You scoff, before shaking your head. It’s enough to make her laugh through her tears. And surely enough, Ymir and Eren appear after twenty minutes – out of breath and panting. You take the cue and jump off the bench, reaching for Eren’s outstretched hand, as the two of you quietly walk back to the townhouse and leave them to it.

“They’ll be fine.” Eren murmurs, trying to pull you into walking the other way. He’s trying to reassure you.

You look up at him and smile.

“Yeah, I’m sure they will be.”

Jean and Mikasa don’t do bachelor or bachelorette parties. Early on, Eren had clocked that something like that, a party celebrating them get married without the other present, wasn’t something that wouldn’t even be remotely fun to them.

But you still had to do something. Which is why Eren settled for throwing the two of them a laid back party after filming at the end of the week, with enough alcohol for them to get drunk to their hearts desire.

“Sometimes I have genuine concern for how their livers are still functioning.” Eren states.

You avert your gaze from Gabi and Falco – who are sitting in the corner playing a very intense game of cards together and giggling – to Jean and Mikasa, who are very drunkenly dancing with Niccolo and Sasha, who unfortunately got roped into it.

“Tell me about it.” you respond.

You can’t help but smile as Niccolo takes turns spinning Mikasa around, as Sasha and Jean attempt a very dangerous version of a dip, which results in Jean dropping her flat on the floor. Eren’s ready to jump up, but Armin gestures for him to keep sitting before jumping up.

“Sometimes I think it’s sweet though. I think back to all those award shows and realize that they probably had a really great time together. Just dancing together, enjoying each other's company.” you respond.

“Yeah. That first one we did though was really fun. I mean, Sukuna and the lollipop thing was like really fucking annoying. But besides that, I really liked that we were all just sitting together having a good time.”

You snort.

“Do you ever think about how…important moments seem after the fact? And that…sometimes you don’t really know how much something will mean later?” you ask.

“What do you mean?”

“When we went to Seattle, I was talking with Lana. And I was telling her that Sukuna and I are nowhere near as close as you and her are. And she was telling me that Sukuna and I were like that. And that back then, when I met him, I was the one of the first people to kind of… understand that he was joking. To not immediately think bad of him or be weirded out by it, I guess.” you respond.

Eren shrugs.

“I guess. I mean, you showing up for my birthday dinner, it must have seemed to you that I was being so reserved when I left with Hyla. But that was the moment for me that I knew I wanted to be out of that thing, that kind of started everything.” Eren responds.

You feel your cheeks heat up. And you’re sure that the four shots that Mikasa gave you earlier, the slight buzz in your veins, is what makes you say it.

“This is one of them too. The important moments I’ll look back on.” you respond.

You watch as Eren’s eyes go wide, before he awkwardly scratches at the back of his neck and smiles at the ground.

“How so?”

“All of this time that I get to spend with you. It’s up there, with everything else.”

Eren reaches forward, linking his hand in with yours, before he squeezes three times.

“Me too.”

The two of you keep your hands that way, linked together and raised in the air, before the wind nearly gets knocked out of you by Jean leaning his entire weight on you. You can see that Mikasa is doing the same to Eren, hands tangled around his neck and nearly strangling him.

“Did you guys know you’re the best maid of honor and best man ever?” Mikasa whines.

Eren takes her hands, untangling them from cutting off his circulation, before letting her lean against his shoulder. You can see that he’s pleasantly surprised from the affection, wrapping his arm around her and leaning his head against hers as well.

“Yes, Mikasa. We know.” Eren responds.

“Stop being cocky, Eren.” Jean grumbles, as you turn your head to the side to smile at him.

“Yeah, Eren.” you respond, emphasizing each syllable as he rolls his eyes.

Eren shakes his head at the two of you, before looking down at Mikasa.

“Are you ready for your gift, Mika?” Eren asks.

“What? Really?”

Eren gives her a nod as she nearly jumps up with excitement, teetering on the heels of her feet as Eren momentarily disappears to grab the little tape. Jean looks down at you, giving you a steely glare, as you roll your eyes.

“What, Jean?”

“You are getting me a gift, right?”

“Do you think I’m a nutjob? Obviously, I’m getting you a gift. You’re getting married.”

“It better blow my fucking mind, Y/N. I have seriously high hopes after finding out what Eren got Mikasa.”

You grin.

“Trust me. It’s going to be everything you wanted and more.”

Jean glares at you.

“I don’t like your tone. If it’s a gag gift, you’re not meeting any of my children.”

“They’re also Mikasa’s children. She’ll let me see them.”

“No, I won’t let her.”

“You don’t own the kids, Jean.”

“The fuck do you mean? They’re my kids.”

You elbow him in the sides.

“These aren’t even real kids yet! Why are you getting territorial over people who don’t even exist yet?”

Mikasa slings her arm around both of your shoulders, before squeezing the two of you way too hard under her grip. The two of you give each other wide eyes as she nearly cuts off your circulation and scolds both of you.

“Why are you guys always so mean to each other? I thought you guys were getting along.”

“We do get along!” Jean responds.

“So along! We’re two peas in a pod!” you respond.

Mikasa slightly loosens her grip as Eren walks up, twisting the little CD in his hand, as he eyes the three of you. She absentmindedly links her arm in with his and Jean, as Jean and Eren mimic their motions and loop you into the circle.

There’s tears bubbling in her eyes, as you and Eren spare each other a glance, and prepare yourself for the waterworks that are going to follow. Mikasa was always an emotional drunk.

“Thank you guys for planning such a good party for us. And for being really good friends to us.” Mikasa responds, voice cracking.

You smile, cheeks nearly hurting, as you squeeze Eren and Jean’s arms.

“Of course, Mikasa. You-”

“We’re never going to be able to repay you both. I never forgot how many times you both took the fall for us back in the day whenever Levi got mad at us for switching our rooms around. And that you guys always did it whenever we asked.”

Eren shakes his head.

“I promise that we wanted to switch rooms just as badly as you guys did. Relax, Mikasa.”

“I want you guys to be so happy. You guys are both such good people that it makes my heart hurt. You’re so, so perfect for each other.”

You can feel Eren stiffen at your side as your cheeks heat up, the awkwardness sweltering in the air.

“Thank you, Mikasa. That’s very sweet of you.”

“I want my kids to be like ring bearers or flower girls at your wedding! I want our kids to be best friends like we were best friends and make those stupid videos like we used to do back in the day.”

“Speaking of those videos, can I give you your gift now, Mikasa?” Eren asks.

Mikasa lifts her hands, wiping the wetness off of her face, as she nods. Eren walks towards the TV, setting up the little video player, as you grab the group of them and signal them to join you around the couch to watch the video.

The song starts playing, the soft little piano, of a song you had coincidentally written about Jean and Mikasa years prior. You and Jean had visited Mikasa on the set of one of her old films, Emma, and you had half heartedly scribbled some lyrics about it. You were able to find the old book in the back of your drawers and piece it together properly with Armin and Niccolo’s help.

When Emma falls in love, she paces the floor Closes the blinds and locks the door When Emma falls in love, she calls up her mom Jokes about the ways that this one could go wrong She waits and takes her time 'Cause Little Miss Sunshine always thinks it's gonna rain When Emma falls in love, I know That boy will never be the same

'Cause she's the kind of book that you can't put down Like if Cleopatra grew up in a small town And all the bad boys would be good boys If they only had a chance to love her And to tell you the truth, sometimes I wish I was her

Eren pieced together the perfect videos. You’re positive that he’s stolen from all of Levi’s old tapes, as well as the dumb camera that the group of you all used in the early seasons. The clips are all of Jean and Mikasa – of such seemingly unimportant moments that nearly make your heart burst at the sight of the two of them now.

There’s sprinkles of you and Eren in the videos, of the two of you recording them in the background holding hands when you were trying to catch their attention. And of Connie and Reiner just blowing kissy faces at them or Sasha and Bertholdt trying to imitate the two of them.

Nearly everyone’s laughing at the clips – at how little Jean and Mikasa look at all of the clips – and Mikasa secures her hand in with yours.

“Is that you singing? Did you write this song about me?”

“Yeah. Way back when you filmed Emma.”

You can see her face curl up in emotion, before she leans her head against your shoulder. She still has one of her hands wrapped in with Eren’s, stopping every few seconds to give him a really big smile that you can tell means the world to him.

Emma met a boy with eyes like a man Turns out her heart fits right in the palm of his hand Now he'll be her shelter when it rains Little does he know, his whole world's about to change

The clip ends with the group of you hugging, when you had finished wrapping season one. You remember the moment distinctly – the dread that came with it. Because you didn’t know if you were going to get a season two, if anyone was even going to like the show, or if you’d ever see any of them again.

Armin initiates it first, by leaning forward over the couch and wrapping his arm around Eren and Mikasa. And then one by one, you’re all piling on each other – warm tears in your eyes as everyone ruffles Jean and Mikasa’s hair – the two of them pink in the face with their tears.

You stand up to pop the CD out of the box as you watch Eren and Mikasa give each other a long hug, Eren responding warmly to the babbling mess coming out of her mouth.

“Eren. Eren, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Mikasa.”

“This is perfect. This is so perfect, you’re one of my best friends ever, you know that?”

Eren laughs, before placing both of his hands on her shoulders.

“You’re one of my best friends too, Mikasa. Save one dance for me at the wedding, okay?”

“Of course. Of course, of course we have to dance together. You can’t leave me hanging, Eren.”

“This was my idea! And you’re the one who’s going to be so busy. Just don’t forget me.”

You’re caught off guard from watching the two of them when you feel a tapping on your shoulder to find Ymir at your side. You give her a smile as you both lean against the wall.

“Hey.”

“I was wondering if you could do me a favor. You can say no.” Ymir states.

“Yeah, of course. What’s up?”

“That was…a really sweet song you wrote about Mikasa. I’ve always really loved how you can feel the emotion in songs you write.”

You smile.

“Is there any way that you could write a song with me? About Sofia? Because, we’re good but I want her to know that she means the world to me. And she’s been a fan of yours for so long that I think that it would be something that was really special to her. And I know that things are complicated because of Historia and that you might have picked a side, but I’m just asking you for this as your friend and –”

“I’m on your side too.” you state.

“Hm?”

“Historia is my friend. But you are too. And I want you and Sofia to be happy, I really like her and I really like you.”

You watch as Ymir deflates.

“Really?”

“You’re meant to be together. I think that she can really love you in the way that you deserve.”

Ymir leans forward, uncharacteristically affectionate, as she wraps her arms around you and squeezes your arms.

“You’re a really good person, Y/N.” Ymir states.

You laugh.

“You must be as drunk as Mikasa.”

“No, no I really mean it. You always have really good intentions at heart. I know that your whole lover girl branding must be…frustrating to look at after everything that happened. But that’s always who you’ve been, with all of us. It’s a really good part of you.” Ymir states.

You smile.

“You’re speaking really highly of me. All I did was say I was going to write a song with you, Ymir.”

“I think you deserve really good things. People have given you way too much hurt than you deserve.”

The following morning, you’re able to snag Armin to help you play Ymir’s song for Sofia. And surely enough, you can feel it radiating as you watch her face light up, the way she nearly beams at the two of you as you sing.

You sit abandoned in the room, hours after Armin, Ymir, and Sofia trickle away.

Only because it’s so overwhelming that it nearly suffocates you. The love in the room.

Ymir and Sofia. Jean and Mikasa and Gabi and Falco. The way Eren and Armin have reconciled and how you always see Levi smiling at you from the back of the room when the group of you are messing around.

You’re so full of it that you can barely breathe, so nervously anxious that it makes your stomach hurt.

“You okay?”

You look up to find Eren looking down at you. At the love in the room, staring at you so intently.

“Yeah.”

“I had a question.”

You tap the open seat on the couch next to you, shuffling to the side, as he joins you.

“Sure. What’s up?”

You watch as Eren leans forward on his knees, eyes trained on the ground as he cracks through each of the knuckles in his fingers.

“You can say no. You don’t have to feel obligated to answer in any way because it was just an idea I had. I won’t be hurt if you don’t want to, or…or had other plans I don’t know about because you’re obviously entitled to that! And you know, it’s a harmless type of thing that I just wanted to –”

“Eren.”

He pauses, looking up at you.

“Just ask.” you finish.

“Will you be my date to the wedding?” Eren asks.

You feel the butterflies swarming in your stomach as you smile at him, squeezing your hands into fists as you hold them close to your chest.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I want to go with you. We’re doing a song together and…and we’re all good. It would be nice to be together, like we did back when we wrote invisible string. That and I kind of need you to point out all the love in the room for me just so I can remember it all.” Eren responds.

You smile.

“Of course. We’ll take turns. I’ll point one out and then you.”

Eren grins.

“Deal.”

You reach forward, placing your pointer finger against his chest. He looks down before looking back up at you, confused.

“What?” he asks.

“You just asked me to point out the love in the room.”

You watch as Eren leans his head back, unable to contain his smile, as he shoves your hand away and mimics the motion by pointing back.

next chapter linked here

an: anyways ymir requests a song about her relationship with historia later on and they write you're losing me. and yes, you're losing me and champagne problems end up being about the same relationship. also historia being so jo march coded by saying she would accept ymir's proposal now that she's actually with someone else and can't have her....anyways jeankasa wedding oh we cried

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