#sorry its so short 😭😭 but i hope you like it still!

[wuahae]

Congratulations on the milestone!! So happy for you <3

For the event, I wanted to request something with eric from tbz, in bed at 10:06. Like waking up with him and its all soft And comforting 🥺

[10:46] / in the bed

daylight trickles in through the window blinds, dust particles scattering in the light.

it’s an easy morning, one where your body folds in between the blankets, where your wake-up stretch has you squeezing your eyes shut and relaxing back on the pillows when you’re done. but of course, you think, rolling over to your side, it just wouldn’t be the same without your boyfriend, still sleeping beside you.

and as if on cue, eric stirs, sheets rustling as he turns, propping his head on his pillow to look at you.

"morning,” you say softly, smiling. “good sleep?”

he grins in response, sneaking an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “the best. morning, babe.”

and even after years of dating, you find yourself still caught up over the smallest of things, your hands against his bare chest, his legs tangled with yours, your head tucked into his chin, puzzle pieces clicked together.

“what’s the plan today?” eric asks, playing with the hem of your pajama shirt. “lunch date? dinner date? both? movie night after? actually, i think we should iust spend the whole day together.” it’s teasing and it’s silly, and you can’t help but laugh.

“sorry,” you apologize, untucking yourself from him to reach up and tame a tuft of hair sticking straight up on the side of his head. “i got a lot of work i have to finish today. maybe tomorrow?"

eric pouts, pulling your body even closer. “but it’s saturday…”

“sorry, eric.” his thumb grazes your stomach, calluses rough over your soft skin. your breath hitches, just slightly. “let’s have breakfast together though, yeah?”

he contemplates, humming as his hand moves to rest completely on your waist under your shirt. a part of you wants to play shy, wriggle out from his grasp and say some excuse about getting to breakfast or else you’ll both run out of time, but you squash it down, indulging in his warmth.

that was the perks of a saturday morning, wasn’t it? the way you could relax, even if it was just for a few hours before everything in your life became hectic again, the way eric grabs your hand and slows you down before you trip and fall carrying too many things in your arms, the way you let him. so you reach up, wrapping your arms around his neck, and scooch even closer to him, skin pressed against his.

(it’s on saturday morning that you find yourself enjoying this the most, the feeling that you could have a home anywhere, so long as it was with him.)

“movie night tomorrow though, right?” eric asks, squeezing your waist a little. “you know we still need to catch up on the new episodes of the bachelor.”

“of course,” you respond, kissing him on the lips. “wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

[fleuriieu]

May i pls request fem!reader x sevika? I've been fallen for her since 3 years ago and after her scenes in ep 2 i was so in awe and giddy i need to read more of her 😭🤲

𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐊𝐀 ( 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐄 ) — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐂𝐒

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖙𝖞𝖕𝖊 :: bullet points / short drabble

˚ ୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝐤𝖔𝖗𝖎 :: im absolutely in love with sevika too so this was really good timing!! ive been wanting to write for her and viktor for the longest time :3 i hope youre okay with me doing general hcs, i didnt know if you wanted anything specific so i just did this 😋 also, sorry if she turned out ooc, this is my first time writing for arcane characters 😓

[ masterlists ]

ᥫ᭡ sevika will be the most protective gf ever—anywhere you go, she’ll always be 2 steps behind looking out for you!

ᥫ᭡ its not that she doesn’t think you can take care of yourself, but its just who she is. she gets worried, especially if you’re wandering around in the undercity

ᥫ᭡ she will 100% be your biggest hype woman. whenever you wear something new for date night, you can see her pupils dilating when looking at you with a small smirk on her face

ᥫ᭡ rather than hand holding i think she would be someone to wrap her arms around your waist, almost possessive in a way. when shes not doing that though, she would want you to have a hand holding onto her biceps

ᥫ᭡ will never ever let you tag along with anything work related. shes pretty dead set on separating you with her dirty work, for your safety

ᥫ᭡ some nights when it gets bad, she just wants you to hold her. don’t say anything. don’t ask her questions. just be with her until the next morning

ᥫ᭡ she loves to bring you back little trinkets or accessories from her missions that she thinks you’ll like / will look good on you. she would never admit it, but her heart always skips a beat when she sees you wearing something that she got for you herself

ᥫ᭡ lives for teasing/banter arguments. she finds it so hot when youre all riled up and mad at her, because she knows that she’ll make it up to you later anyways ( WHAAAT 😦 )

ᥫ᭡ she has insane mood swings on her period. one time, she accidentally snapped at you while you were trying to tell her about your day, and she felt so incredibly shitty for like 2 months

ᥫ᭡ sometimes, she gets nightmares of you dying in her arms due to an enforcer attack. its a reoccurring dream, and whenever she jolts awake in a cold sweat, you reassure her that you’re still there. you’re alive, and you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.

ᥫ᭡ sevika finds it adorable when you give her little nicknames. “vika”, “sevi” , “baby” , and “big mama” ( hehe ) are her favorites

ᥫ᭡ tries to have a date night at least once every two weeks. of course she would like it if it happened more often, but with her schedule its just not possible. when you two do go on dates though, she makes sure to go all out and make it the most enjoyable experience for you

ᥫ᭡ her coworkers are so surprised at how soft she has gotten because of you. she has something to fight for other than zaun now, and once they get their promised land then she’ll finally settle down with you and live through the rest with you by her side

[ellecdc]

The other day I was at the pub and some cockroach of a man spiked my drink and this really nice guy was helping me out. He was british!! turns out it was my best friend 😭😭😭😭 Can I please request a reader who's been spiked and either of the boys or ships help her out. I honestly thought james was there I was so drunk 💀 Im being very open about this because it unfortunately happens a lot in my area but I had my girlie with me so it was ok lol if it makes you uncomfortable please feel free to ignore this request! :D

thanks for your patience with this! I'm so sorry this happened to you, but I knew I needed to save it for when inspiration struck (four months later). glad you were alright and your friend (read: James) was there to help you through it <3 -> please note, my requests are currently closed

Regulus Black x fem!reader whose drink was spiked [1.2k words]

CW: spiking someones drink [not described], feeling inebriated due to said drugging, blacking-out/not remembering a period of time, discussion of past vomiting [not described], reader has hair long enough to push behind her ear, hurt/comfort & fluff

Your body felt like it was rolling languidly with the waves; a vessel in search of a shore beyond your line of sight. 

A moan escaped your lips as you followed the waves forward when you felt a cold hand on the back of your neck.

“Do you need to throw up again?”

Again? 

“Again?” You managed around another moan, though your voice came out hoarse and your throat burned something fierce as if you had swallowed lighter fluid. 

The voice simply hummed in agreement; gentle and cautious, its thumb roving back and forth through the baby hairs on the back of your neck. 

“You’re alright.” The voice promised, sounding as though this wasn’t the first time they’d said it. 

“When was I not alright?” You asked through a sigh, sitting back on your heels as you tried to pry your eyes open. 

You were accosted by the sight of a brilliantly beautiful man; short, black curls falling in front his eyes, his dark brows furrowed as his grey eyes scanned your face in concern and perhaps some pity. He lifted a hand and pushed some of your hair that had fallen in front of your own eyes behind your ear; long fingers brushing a barely there touch against your cheek. 

“Are you beginning to feel more lucid?” He murmured quietly, and you noticed then that his position mirrored your own.

Horrifyingly, you were kneeling on the floor of a sterile looking stainless steel bathroom in front of a toilet; you could still hear the thrumming bass through the walls, but you were clearly much further into the building than the bathrooms attached to the dance floor.

And then there was this beautiful man - this beautiful, angelic man with a jaw that looked to be chiselled from the finest stone kneeling beside you; the knees of his well-tailored black dress pants on the ground of a public bathroom, the sleeves of his white button-up shirt rolled to his elbows as his hand returned to the back of your neck where it continued its comforting ministrations. 

And then you saw a name tag. 

“Regulus.” You recited, and you hoped that you didn’t look as disgusting as you felt in the presence of such a handsome bloke. You decided you’d be embarrassed about it later.

“There she is.” He murmured quietly, though you had the impression he was mostly talking to himself. “Can you drink this for me?” He asked then, offering you a cup of water that you went to accept without hesitation.

Your limbs seemed to be working against you; your arms moving in slow motion as you took the cup from his hands, and shaking nearly violently as you brought it to your lips. 

“Easy does it.” Regulus coached as you took slow sips. “Very good.” 

“What happened?” You asked then, relinquishing the cup back to his much more capable hands that he placed beside him. 

“I…I think the guy you were dancing with spiked your drink, darling. I’m so sorry.” He explained, no longer able to look you in the eyes but voice taught with ingenuity. 

“Why are you sorry?” You asked then, trying to intonate humour into your words, though even your own ears recognised how tired you sounded. 

His grey eyes met yours again; regret, guilt, and remorse swimming behind his irises. 

“I should have noticed sooner. I should’ve been keeping a closer eye on you, maybe-”

“S’not your job.” You offered quickly, patting the back of his hand currently resting atop his knee clumsily. 

His face darkened slightly, though he lifted his hand to welcome yours into its grasp. “I’m supposed to make sure everyone’s having fun and staying safe.” 

“Well…” You started, pausing to look around the dark and quiet bathroom before returning your eyes to him. “It sort of looks like you’ve kept me safe?” 

His lip quirked again, though he didn’t verbally agree with you. 

“Have you…been sitting here with me the whole time?” You asked, and if you were feeling any better, you probably would have tried to tease him for the furious blush that took over his face. 

“I- well, yeah…the bouncers were already looking for the bloke and…I didn’t want you to be alone.” 

You tried to smile at him - your body still not cooperating to its fullest extent - but based off of Regulus’ returning smile, he seemed to have picked up on it nonetheless. 

“That’s very nice of you; you’re very nice.” You murmured, changing positions from your knees to sitting with your legs crossed. It was clumsy, and Regulus had to catch you from falling over once, but you thanked your earlier self for deciding on the jeans and not the skirt. 

“So you’ve said.” Regulus replied; a teasing lilt in his voice that immediately flooded you with embarrassment. 

“Oh god; what did I say?”

“Nothing too embarrassing.” He mollified, but the pleased smile on his face and the blush on his cheeks told you otherwise. 

You groaned and let your head fall back against the vanity, both the echo it caused and the small sound of protest from the back of Regulus’ throat signalling you to the fact that it was probably going to hurt later. 

“Please tell me? S’not fair that you can remember and I don’t.” You pouted miserably; you had been teasing (mostly), but the result was Regulus’ face falling immediately as he returned to his earlier guilt. You felt awful for it. 

“Was nothing bad, really.” He offered noncommittally. “Something about having a - erm - guardian angel, and…that I was…beautiful?” 

Your hand itched to reach out and touch the cheek of said beautiful guardian angel where it was a lovely (and furious) pink - to see if it was just as warm beneath your fingers as it looked - but between your lack of coordination, the bone deep tired that was settling throughout your body, and the fact that up until….maybe two minutes ago, you hadn’t even known his name, you fought the urge. 

“Well, good thing I didn’t say anything that was untrue, I suppose.” You offered simply, hoping you didn’t smile too brightly when you saw his head snap up in your peripheral as he stared at you in awe. 

“You’re a flirt when you’re inebriated.” He accused.

“I’m a flirt when I’m sober, too.” You volleyed, allowing your heavy eyes to close knowing you were in safe and welcome company. 

You swore you could hear the smirk that took over his face. “Now that I’ve got to see.”

“Yeah?” You asked, lifting your head to smile at him. “Want my number so you can find out?”

He rolled his eyes goodnaturedly and pulled out a paper and pen from his waist apron before jotting something down. 

“How about you text me when you’re feeling better and you can decide if this wasn’t all just a bad dream or something.” 

“A bad dream with an angel in it?” You teased. “Impossible, Regulus.” 

God, that blush. 

You would definitely be texting him tomorrow.

[janumun]

Faaaaa my babyyyy, I'm here as promised. 🥺🥺 We already talked about this in dms and you seemed so interested so can you write the lads men reacting to mc's death, please pretty please

When You Are Gone [All LaDS Men - Angst Headcanons]

Rated: SFW - Angst Tags: hurt/no comfort, poorly dealing with the death of a loved one

Summary: The LaDS men dealing with the aftermath of your death, in the heartbreaking messages they leave in your voicemail almost regularly even long after you’re gone, in an effort to cope with your loss.

Author’s Notes : Hey darling, absolutely! Here you go. Hope you enjoy (?). 😭 This headcanon’s a bit differently formatted because I was inspired by the game’s speech to text function. 

Sylus

TW: knowingly putting oneself in danger, mortally wounded Sylus, insomnia, mild spoilers for Razor’s Grip ASMR 

Transcript:

Hey there! You’ve reached my voicemail, which is a rare occurrence. That either means I do not know recognize your caller ID. Orrrr you are a certain infuriating Boss Man, trying to calling me up at all ungodly hours of the night again. Whoever you are, leave a message after the beep and I’ll get back to you ASAP.  

A heavy snort of sour laughter rolls past bruised lips, to hear the familiar automated sound of your voice playing on the other end of the line; one Sylus does not tire of no matter how many times he’s heard it. A thick, punishing burst of pain fractures across his torso when he chokes up on the blood gurgling within his throat.  

Sylus reaches to curb the sound within a bloodied fist, clearing his throat to speak once more. 

I suppose I did deserve all your reprimands, seeing as I am still calling you way past your bedtime, kitten.  

His voice lowers an octave, slow, gentle.   

I hope you’re having a good dream. 

I’m only calling because you told me to let you know anytime I’d be away on a risky mission. A hushed chuckle sounds on the other end of the line.  

You'd practically ordered it of me — do you remember?  

The night when you grabbed me by the lapels and asked me to not make a deal all on my own, ever again. That you worried for me whenever I was gone and you wanted to know the next time I planned on taking a mission, of this caliber. 

You’d willingly walked back to me and since then, I have always made space for you, just like you’ve wanted. 

I’ve kept up my end of our bargain.  

A guttural moan of pain sounds through the otherwise quiet of the night.  

These wounds of mine... functioning without sleep for this long, and a poor decision made on my end, the combination was bound to have consequences.  

His chuckles knell throaty, labored. 

And now, all I wish to do is sleep.  

A lengthy silence follows after, making one believe the user on the other end of the line might’ve cut the call. Or fallen asleep in exhaustion of his wounds, like he said.  

Before that gentle burr of his sounds once more. 

You know I can’t die, sweetie, unfortunate as that is in this moment.  

But I do have a wish for when my body inevitably loses its awareness for the short time it takes to recuperate.  

I hope, Sylus’s voice softens. that when I close my eyes this time, I get to see you in my dreams.  

Zayne

TW: allusions to embalming a body long after death, mentions of a protocore heart that continues to function even after the host’s death, denial of grief 

Transcript:

Hi, you’ve reached my voicemail. I am currently unavailable but drop me a message and I’ll get back to you, stat. 

A quiet insouciant voice — the clearing of a throat — begins on the other end of the line.  

Akso Hospital Log 171, the time right now is 4:17 AM. The host’s heart continues to function, although its less-than-optimal cardiac output remains at 1L per min. A pulse rate of 13 beats per min has been documented today. A slight decrease from its value yesterday, recorded at 17 beats per minute.  

A brief pause. 

Does it bother you to hear me speak of you this way? I’m sorry. A mere force of habit on my part. You are my patient, after all. Documentation must be precise, and to the point, for our research to progress, if we are to have even a sliver of a chance at resuscitating your heart.  

I have hope we will succeed; I will do my utmost as a doctor so that we may save you.  

Another pregnant pause. 

Do you too think I am foolish for my efforts?  

Greyson accosted me in the hallways tonight after my scheduled surgery and he seemed so... incensed. For being unable to give up on you, for crossing a line, to not get overtly attached to any of our patients, he said it was a clear violation of our Oath and called it my professional failing. And afterwards... he implored that I give up now.  

Someone once asked me, long ago: if I would go beyond death to try and bring back the person I loved, were they to pass away. And I answered that I would not, a desecration of the dead is not something I’d wish to do. Or wish upon the deceased. I would rather divert all my efforts to ensuring they would live, that their heart would continue to beat healthy.  

So, in retrospect, it is Greyson who’s strange in expecting my willing defeat, without having even tried to the best of my capabilities. Not when your heart still continues to beat. 

I do, however, miss you... very much, even though hope remains in my heart. 

When the day comes that you wake up, I hope you do not have to suffer like this, ever again. 

Rafayel

TW: gradual loss of vision, self-blame 

Transcript:

Hi, hello! I’m unable to answer your call at the moment but hey, feel free to drop me a voice message and I’ll get back to you soon. Bye-bye! 

A sharp inhale; as if the person on the other end of the line is wracked by sudden, vicious pain.  

Before the sound smoothens out, as if it had never been. An airy voice begins, although the nonchalant inflection to his tone sounds odd, all wrong — a fact the recipient of the voicemail would’ve been able to parse instantly, were they still around. 

Hey cutie! It’s me again, your favorite person in the entire world.  

Sorry about that earlier, I always get a bit startled whenever I hear you say good-bye in that crazy adorable voice.  

Since y’know, the very last time we met, you never told me you were leaving. 

Silence descends.  

It really feels like it’s been another 800 years, I fear the fish will actually start flying and the whales will start walking this time.  

Only, I don’t think you’re coming back this time, are you?  

My bride can be so cruel sometimes. 

A humorless laugh.  

Anyyyyway, I’m dropping a voice note today because my eyesight’s been acting up a bit lately so I can’t really leave you a text like I usually do.  

And before you scold me about it, I know I’m not supposed to be painting this long but I’m close to completing this new painting of you and I can’t rest until it’s done and dusted.  

Don’t hate me for it, pretty? 

A pleased, wistful sound.  

I really wish you were here so I could show it to you right now.  

A strident crash sounds in the background of the caller as paintbrushes overturn along with a color palette; garnet red and deep purple staining his floor a macabre color Rafayel cannot perceive in that moment.  

Whoa, now that’s gonna leave a mess from the sounds of it.  

Whatever, I’ll clean it up later once I get my sight back.  

The point is, cutie, I’ll share a snap of the completed painting with you once it’s done.  

Be prepared to be absolutely blown. So dazzled you fall head over heels in love with me. 

And then perhaps... return, if you like it and me enough.  

His sigh is steeped in mild vexation.  

Waiting hurts.  

Having you not remember our time together, in every lifetime we meet, hurts. It really is all your fault, you know.  

A soft, disgruntled moue you can hear within his words.  

But I hope, in our next life, we don’t cross paths.  

That way, you won’t be forced to sacrifice yourself for my sake, ever again, you silly girl.  

A throttled sound; it almost sounds like a wretched moan of pain.  

I don’t want our bond to shackle you down anymore so I think... I’ll let you go now.  

A human like you far suits the sun, not being saddled down below within turbulent seas. 

So, this will be our final farewell now. 

The words nearly scraped free of his throat on a rasped sound.  

Goodbye, my beloved bride. 

I loved— 

Beep. Your message has been recorded and sent.  

Caleb

Transcript:

TW: very brief traumatic remembrance of your demise 

Hi hi! You’ve reached the ever-diligent Miss Hunter’s voicemail. I’m probably out on a mission right now so I’m unable to respond but I’ll get back to you ASAP if you drop me a message instead!  

A soft chuckle warms the air in fond recollection to hear your voice. The knot of Caleb’s brow furrowing deeper as he tries to imprint that cheery voice into his skull to overwrite the sounds of your pained screams still knelling within his ears.  

Before he clears his throat to begin.  

Hello to you too, pipsqueak.  

It’s your 25th birthday today and I thought I’d record this little memento for us. 

Happy Birthday, my tiny hurricane of disaster. I really miss you, you know, even if you don’t seem to.  

He chuckles in resignation. 

I should’ve let you bother me more often if I knew you were going to be this terrible at keeping in touch with your best friend later.  

We really didn’t have much time together once I returned from my posting abroad. Work kept you so busy.  

I should’ve scolded you more often about taking appropriate breaks in between missions. God.  

A gentle laugh resounds on the other end of the line. 

Reprimanding you like a dad used to be Zayne’s job among us three, not mine.  

The tiniest of fractures slip into his voice. 

Anyway, I’ve kept to my side of the bargain we made while I was away from Linkon; to leave you regular voice messages about my day and I guess the habit’s just... stuck.  

I visited the grocery store earlier to shop for ingredients to whip up your favourite parmesan risotto tonight.  

It was almost like you were with me, you know.  

With each item I passed by; from the strawberries you love to inhale to your favourite cola displayed, front and center, within their fridge. I almost picked one up for you before I— 

He visibly halts himself, his breathing somewhat erratic. Before he resumes once more. 

That nice kid you’re friendly with was manning the counter today and he recognized me almost instantly. All thanks to being towed around the Supermart with you, no doubt. 

He even gave me a nice discount on the items when I told him I was whipping up a birthday dinner for you.  

A short pause. 

The risotto was pretty good, if I do say so myself. I wish you could’ve tasted it too.  

Sorry I didn’t bake a birthday cake for you this year because it’s just me in the house now. 

I don’t have a certain cute girl, with a crazy sweet tooth, to eat it with me and you know I’m not really fond of sweets.  

His voice drops into a hushed sound, wrought with emotion. 

Time flew by so fast. It seems like only yesterday when we were both kids, huddled around a coffee table with you trying your best to blow out the candles on the cake Grandma baked for us on your birthday.

He laughs softly.

You had a difficult time growing up because of your heart but you were always so brave.  

I wish I could’ve spoiled you more often. If only I knew then that our time together would be so short.  

His voice breaks into a slight tremor.  

Your Caleb really misses you... every day of my excruciating life. 

But... I hope that now... wherever you are, you aren’t in pain anymore. 

If there is a life after this one, I hope you let me find you in it, too. 

I love you, little spitfire.  

End of voice message. 

Xavier

TW: space travel, personal logging of a journey, self-imposed isolation and neglect

Transcript:

Hi there, you’ve reached my voicemail as I’m unable to attend your call at the moment. Leave a message after the beep and I’ll be sure to get back to you soon! 

Hi to you too, angel.  

It’s been a while since I’ve left you a message, hasn’t it?  

I’m sorry, I’ve been facing some turbulence anomalies ever since my ship hit the Bode’s galaxy so I’ve been a bit occupied.  

Where were we last time?  

Ah, I told you how Jeremiah’s shop has been thriving on Earth lately, because I remembered you saying you wanted to know how he was doing the last time we spoke.  

You never got the chance to see for yourself after.  

He pauses.  

I didn’t want to tell you at the time because you and Jeremiah really seemed to be growing close as friends and that bothered me.  

Forgive me? 

A shift of gears sounds within the quiet interior of the spaceship as Xavier adjusts a few controls.  

I know these logs will never reach you but I still want to talk to you about our journey.  

I never...  

His voice drops; the sliver of a whisper.  

got to show you this small planet I found while out on my travels, a long time ago. I named it Uluru. It’s a red rock planet, you see.  

I told you about it once and you said you’d really like to go see it someday. “Xavier’s own planet,” you said.  

I think you were teasing me then. But I wanted to tell you, it’s not just Xavier’s planet but “Xavier and MC’s little planet”.  

I didn’t have the chance to show it to you while you were still— 

A violent catch of breath followed by a soft curse, cleaves through the quiet. 

A low exhale before that quiet voice picks up once more. 

Uluru is reaching the end of its life soon after all these lightyears and I wanted to go together with you to see our planet one last time before it died.  

As for what I’ll do after...  

A pause and a thoughtful hum, follows. 

I think I’ll stay there once I’ve witnessed its demise.  

Earth no longer has any springs for me to return to now that you’re gone and Philos — well I can’t return to that place anymore.  

So, I think I’ll stay, among the ruins of the place that was supposed to be our home.  

With you. 

End Notes: Thank you for reading! I know many of us wept about how we wished for God to take all of Zayne’s pain and give it to us instead so here I am, happy to do exactly that. 😇 Happy Zayne story branch release, y’all. 

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated if you are so inclined, lovelies!

Tagging as requested: @samanthagnicole , @catboi-anon , @bitches4lifebro , @beebumbo , @hellinistical

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If you’d like to be tagged in my future stories, you can fill this short form here. If you’d like to be removed, shoot me a DM!

You can also find me on Ao3 and twitter, if you’d like to chat or just squeal with me about hot characters, in general.

[prodbyton]

જ⁀➴ dirty little secret chapter 5: i don’t bite

half smau, half written wc. idk sorry😭 warnings: smut!!! +18 mdni!! smut can be read on its own but if you want to read the rest of the story here’s the mlist! id still recommend reading the whole story bc yes 🙂‍↕️

tomorrow comes around a lot faster than you expected. you dont know why, but you’re almost nervous.

you dont know what it is about anton, but he was different than other guys you pursued. you were never the type to chase, never the type to be so bold and be the one to call the shots. something about anton being so shy in your presence excited you, and you knew you could use that to your advantage since he was already wrapped around your finger after only talking to you once.

so you dont understand why you’re hesitant to knock on the door to his apartment.

you stare at the door, thinking of all the possible outcomes of what will happen once you step foot into his space.

you’re here to study, you tell yourself, but you know that you can’t focus on that when you’re too focused on your attraction to the boy. he obviously is into you, but you don’t know if he’s into you enough to do the things that you were thinking about. what if he does just want to study, and you make him uncomfortable by trying to make a move on him? what if giselle was right about him being a virgin, not that it would be an issue but you don’t want this to be his first time. or even worse, what if he’s not good in bed?

just worry about studying, thats the most important thing here. you continue to tell yourself, still staring at his door.

right as you lift your arm to finally knock, the door swings open and reveals the tall boy you were here to see. he looks at you and smiles softly, and you smile back before taking in his appearance. he looks good, and he seems a little less nervous than he seemed the day before.

you thank yourself for not dressing up too much for today, seeing that he was in a loose tshirt and some shorts. you wore something nice but casual, a low cut shirt and a pair of leggings. easy to take off, just in case. right when you were done looking anton up & down, his eyes quickly darted back up to your face and your smile grows wider when you realize he was probably looking down your shirt when you weren’t looking.

“sorry if i startled you,”

“its okay, i was just about to knock”

anton moves to the side so you can come in, and your eyes scan the room as you take off your shoes. it was pretty clean for an apartment with college student boys, and you wonder if it always looks this clean or if anton cleaned up for you. and you smile trying to imagine anton frantically cleaning around the house knowing that you could be over any minute.

you let anton lead the way to his living room, where he already has some papers spread across the coffee table along with his laptop. you admire his efforts into making sure that you were comfortable in his space, since he also had various snacks and drinks on the table along with a few blankets and pillows on the floor.

“i don’t know what kind of snacks or drinks you like, so i just bought a bunch of stuff” he lied, he asked seunghan this morning what stuff you like. you stare at the various snacks, smiling when you realize it was filled with snacks you actually like. not like you would’ve declined anything he offered, you’re sure he had good taste. maybe you both just have the same favorites.

“did you wanna study physics again or another subject?” you set your bag on the couch, sitting down on the floor on top of the blankets anton had laid out, and pulling out your laptop once anton sat on the ground next to you.

“you’re really smart, anton” you nudge his arm, and he shyly looks away from you at your praise.

“thanks,” antons voice was so soft, and you hoped that you could break that nervous shell off of him soon. you could tell he wanted to talk more, but it was like he was holding himself back.

“im kinda bored of studying now, can we take a break?”

“yeah, of course"

anton is surprisingly easy to talk to, and you wish that he wasn't so shy because you could have realized how much you two had in common. you stare at his face while he talks, going back to make eye contact with him every few words so he knew you were still listening. you look at his lips, liking the way they curve into a smile while he speaks and the way his lips purse out when he says certain words. you stare a little harder at his lips, and anton notices, and he tries to ignore it but he's starting to forget what he was talking about. you only look back at his face when you hear him stumbling over his words and stops talking.

"why'd you stop talking?"

"sorry," anton gulps, his ears turning red as he tries to come up with a reason, but he couldn't lie to you when you were still staring at him like that. "you were staring"

"you're so cute. do i really make you that nervous?"

"y-yeah"

"can i tell you something?" your words were just above a whisper, and anton nods nervously when he sees you looking at his lips again. "i really want to kiss you right now"

and with that anton was leaning in, pressing his lips onto yours without any further question. you were taken aback by his sudden action, not expecting him to be so bold all of a sudden with you. you couldn't complain though, his lips felt so soft and perfect against yours. you kiss him back faster than you could process the situation, holding on to the back of his neck to kiss him harder. his hands that were nervously playing in his lap move so he could grab your waist, pulling your body closer to his.

anton shifts his body so he could face you better, his other hand that wasn't on your waist rests on the ground to stabilize himself as he kisses you. you pull away for a brief second to take a breath, quickly going back to kissing anton and sliding your tongue against his bottom lip.

it takes a moment for him to get the hint, and you have to bite his lip softly in order for him to open his mouth so you could slide your tongue inside.

anton feels like fireworks are going off in his mind. you were kissing him right now. he couldn't believe it. and you're the one who wanted to kiss him, whatever anton did in his past life he thanks himself internally, because he would never believe that he could ever be in this situation.

you two groan into each others mouths, tongues clashing against each others and spit is dribbling down both of your chins. when you two finally pull away, anton is almost as red as a tomato. you were breathing hard, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you took in antons appearance. he looked so attractive like this, lips swollen and parted, a little shiny from a mix of spit and your lip gloss. he was so kissable. you wanted to kiss him again, and again, and again.

so you do. you kiss the breath out of him over and over, you somehow end up in his lap, kissing him even more. you kiss down his face, down his neck, you even bite him a little bit just to hear his breath hitch. antons hands still lay on your waist, gripping onto the skin a little harder whenever you lick or bite a sensitive part of his neck. you were in your own world, and you only realize how much this is effecting anton when he tries (and fails) at subtly pushing you down onto his clothed crotch and you can feel his boner pressing against your core. you remove your lips from him and sit up, staring at his flushed face then down to where your bodies met.

"you're hard" you say it bluntly, still staring at the bulge in his pants from what you can see from the angle you were sitting in.

"you're really pretty" anton talks in the same tone you spoke in, no point in being shameful when you both clearly wanted each other. it was your time to be shy, you knew anton liked you to some degree, but hearing him compliment you as well as getting this hard from just kissing you has you flustered. you feel your core throb the longer you stare, and your mouth feels empty without antons lips on yours.

you run your fingers through antons hair, smiling at the sight of his eyes shutting at the feeling of your nails slightly scratching his scalp. you give his hair a small tug, and before anton can even react your tugging him again so your lips could connect again.

this kiss was somehow even more desperate, teeth clashing and tongues colling more than lips locking. it was messy, but it only made you feel hotter. you experimentally grind your hips down on anton and he groans, holding your hips harder as you make the same movement again. you let out a small whimper when you move just right enough to feel the pressure on your clit, repeating the same movement until you find a steady rhythm.

anton looked an absolute wreck when you pulled your lips off of him. he threw his head back against the couch, eyes barely open as he watched you grind against him. he looked like he was 3 seconds away from cumming in his pants, and you honestly wanted him to. so you move a bit faster, and you lean down to re attach your lips to his neck.

the moans that leave the both of you fill up the living room, and you forget that anton has roomates that could possibly walk in at any given moment. anton seems to forget too, because he's slipping his hands under your shirt and trailing them up to cup your breasts over your bra. antons boldness has you pressing harder against him, moaning against the skin of his neck which makes him shudder.

"wait- im gonna cum-" anton warns, hands that fondle your boobs under your shirt grabbing onto you tighter as he feels his orgasm build up embarrassingly fast. he hopes that you stop moving, but you keep going, and when he feels you smirk against his skin he knows that it was fine.

without any warning anton was moving his hands back to your waist, holding you down as he thrusted against you while his orgasm hit. he was silent, only a string of small whimpers leaving his mouth as he kept you moving while he rode out his high.

watching him cum in his pants was truly a sight, and you felt yourself growing wetter as you watched. he was almost trembling, and it made you clench around nothing before you started to move your hips again. anton was still sensitive and he whine at the feeling of you still grinding down on him, weakly attempting to push your hips off of him.

you quickly move yourself so you were sitting on his thigh, desperately moving against the thick muscle while you chased your own orgasm

"are you close?" you can only nod your head as you move faster, your clit rubbing against antons thigh so deliciously you knew it wouldn't take much more for you to reach your peak.

"kiss me, please-" anton had his lips on you as fast as possible, kissing away the pout you had on your lips. you moan softly when you feel his tongue slip into your mouth, and you feel your orgasm hit you hard when he sucks on your tongue.

you shake on top of anton, body going limp as you feel the aftershocks of your orgasm. you both stay quiet for a moment while you try to get your breathing back to normal, and anton shifts slightly, the feeling of sitting in his cum stained underwear starting to set in and feel uncomfortable.

"im gonna change my pants- ill bring you a pair too" he was so considerate, feeling that you were probably just as uncomfortable in your soaked through underwear. anton helps you move off his thigh, and helps you stand up as well before he's telling you he'll be right back. you sit on the couch while you wait for him, checking your phone while you wait and seeing that your brother texted you a few minutes ago about your whereabouts. you roll your eyes, not wanting to leave antons right after you both just came in your pants, but not wanting to have to deal with your brother nagging you about how late its getting.

"here, you can change in my room" anton turns the corner and hands you a pair of his sweats, and you take them and follow him back down the hall to where his room was. he closes the door and waits outside for you, and you take your time taking off your leggings and your underwear that was uncomfortable and sticky, slipping his pants on and making tying the strings to make sure they don't fall down. you also take in antons bedroom as quick as possible so it doesn't seem like you were snooping.

the boy is smiling at you like a dork when you open the door, and you smile too before his smile drops at the words that leave your mouth.

"my brothers blowing up my phone, so i have to go, but um, today was nice" his heart thumps in his chest, and he swallows in hopes that the feeling subsides and he hopes that it was only loud in his head and that you couldn't hear his heartbeat from where you were standing.

"yeah, it was. i can walk you to your car, its getting kinda dark." anton helps you collect your things, and you two silently make your way down to where you parked.

the walk from antons apartment to your car was awkward, and you wish that it wasn't. you didn't really know what to say, or what to do in this situation. usually guys you hook up with don't go out of their way to give you some of their clothes, or walk you back to your car, or have good conversation with you. but anton was different, and you felt it the moment you decided to give him attention, because you really don't want to go home, and you really don't want this to be the last time you two fool around.

anton stays outside until your car pulls off and until he cant see you anymore before he starts his walk back to his apartment, and he can't stop the wave of thoughts that run through his mind now.

he's praying internally that you really do text him, and that you enjoyed today as much as he did, and that him cumming in his pants didn't throw you off and that you'd never want to speak to him again. he hopes you text him and that you want to see him again.

all of his internal prayers seem to come true faster than he thought when he enters his room and sees your soaked through panties on his bed.

m.list | prev | next

a/n: sorry for posting this so late !! anyways hope you guys like it hehe haha

synopsis: living with your older brother had its perks, including easy access to his hot best friend

taglist is closed !!

🏷️- @selleprotection @gacktsa @cylovesmg @cherrytaesan @f4irynono @mokkaamo @givemeakith @taroddori @leebitofficial @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @g0niki @wonpoem @ningning1527 @streamluckybyriize @ant-onie @sunooslover @saranghoeforanton @serinebsblog @winuvs @onlyhyunjin @lynnimini @dearestjake @sasfransisco @nctjunie @angelpiixie @https-yeonjun @i03jae @nujeskz @astro-doll-the-star @lcvehee @ss1ren @imuziawi @snoopydooby @dutifullyannoyingfox @pink-lemonadefairy @yyangj3lly @urstrulynini @s9nwoo @bearbeom @totheseok

[81folklore]

robin - LECLERC

pairings charles leclerc x fem!singer!reader (fc: gigi hadid + pinterest)

summary fans get a look at charles’ family

warnings a baby + pregnancy (the baby is the entire plot point and one pregnancy mention) poorly translated french, some taylor swift songs are used as readers songs. HUGE TIMESKIPS (sorry lol)

notes we are BACK!! for the time being at least,, sorry for being gone again😣 also im using gigi again because i had this one specific photo in mind of her pregnant!!

notes 2 kind of short but i want to try and gain some more motivation buuuut in my absence from writing ive created a rec blog so i can show you all my favorite works by all the incredible writers on here! @81folklore-library

masterlist

yourusername • may 2020

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 1,283,693 others

(im)patiently waiting to meet you tiger 🐯🩵

view comments

charles_leclerc you are glowing mama🌟

yourusername charlie🥹

lewishamilton cant wait to meet the little one, you’re doing amazing yn!

yourusername thank you lewis💜

user44 you are gorgeous omg

user23 i can’t believe charles is going to be a dad soon

user2 it feels like its flown by

user17 i love that they call their baby tiger☹️

user6 me too!! i hope it sticks as a nickname

arthur_leclerc lunch again soon?

yourusername of course art! let me know when🤍

yourusername • january 2021

liked by charles_leclerc, lorenzotl and 3,930,519 others

our little tiger blessed our lives a few months ago and we couldnt feel more overjoyed to have her. we want to thank those around us for their continued support during our first months of parenthood

tiger, we cant wait you grow into a beautiful young girl and we are already so proud of you🐯🩵

tagged charles_leclerc

view comments

charles_leclerc so happy i get to be a dad with you🩵

charles_leclerc i love you so much im so proud of you

yourusername i love you charlie, thank you for everything

lorenzotl toi et charlie êtes de merveilleux parents 🩷🩷 (translation you and charlie are wonderful parents)

yourusername merci! revenez bientôt, vous êtes toujours le bienvenu! (translation thank you! come back soon, you are always welcome!

user55 theyre parents🥹🥹

user80 oh im sobbing this is so lovely😭😭

user17 they still call her tiger☹️☹️

user49 im confused is that the babies name?

user17 no they just call her tiger in public, we dont know her name! they started calling her tiger when they found out they were going to be parents and it seems to have stuck!!

liked by yourusername

user32 i was listening to never grow up when i saw this post🥹🥹

user47 congratulations guys!!

yourusername • september 2024

liked by charles_leclerc, olliebearman and 5,291,649 others

happy birthday little tiger, it has been a joy to watch you grow into the wonderful girl that you are (please stop mama cant handle you getting bigger🥹)

you are so incredibly loved and i hope you feel that every day, i hope you have a wonderful day today and everyday baby!

happy birthday love mama and papa🐯🩵

view comments

charles_leclerc happy birthday angel, we love you🐯

olliebearman happy birthday tiger!!

yourusername see you soon darling🩷

lewishamilton i can’t believe she is already four🥹💜

yourusername time really flies by🥹

user67 SHES SO BIG NOW😭

user5 right?! i remember when yn posted her on charles back☹️

user52 these pictures are so cute oh my god😭😭☹️☹️

user60 actually my favorite family ever🥹

user21 i feel so emotional knowing ive watched this family grow

user19 is anyone else sad charles hasnt posted the annual story?

user37 theres no way he just stops,, she has so many more songs☹️

user66 wait im new what are we talking about?

user37 because charles and yn write the birthday captions together, charles started posting a picture of tiger with a song yn has written about children or babies etc (example: last year it was never grow up!) and she has so many more songs that would fit but he hasnt made one this year :(

yourusername & charles_leclerc • september 2024

liked by lewishamilton, pierregasly and 6,280,740 others

tiger its your birthday surprise; Robin out now🐯

comments on this post have been limited

yourusername📌 ps robin is not tigers name🩵

charles_leclerc thank you for letting me on a song🫶

yourusername always baby

charles_leclerc we love you tiger🐯

charles_leclerc added to their story

[song used: Robin by yn text: way to go tiger🐯🩵]

seen by yourusername, pierregasly and 1,279,940 others

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twitter

[parkerluvsu]

Heyyyyyy i loved your " PonyBoy " fic even though i hoped there will be some smut in it but can you pleaaaaaase do first time with cowboy bf Art 🧎‍♀️

omg yes you can!! im so sorry im definitely better at writing smut in a shorter fic than a longer one 😭

BED CHEM (cowboy! art donaldson x virgin! fem! reader)

art donaldson is a gentleman, truly. he pulls out chairs before you sit on them, he opens your car door for you, and carries you when your feet hurt from walking in heels all night. yes, art donaldson is a gentleman, but he's still a man. he can't stop himself from gazing a little too long at your thighs when you wear a short skirt, or your breasts when you're leaning over the table to point at something. little does he know, you're wearing these short skirts and low cut tops on purpose, you wanna see him crack, to shed that polite shell and do what he wants with you.

art is taking you out tonight, he surprised you with tickets to see a movie at the drive-in theatre in town. as you're swiping on shiny lip gloss in the mirror you decide that tonight will be the night. youve asked him to take your virginity before, practically begged him to, but he always says the same thing, "i wouldn't want you to regret it" it makes you angry, honestly, how could you regret having your first time with the best boyfriend you've ever had! you went shopping especially for tonight, hiding the blush on your face as you checked out with a set of baby blue panties, with lace trim around the edges. lost in your thoughts, you hardly notice the honk coming from outside, signaling that art is here. giving yourself one last look in the mirror, you hop down the stairs, grabbing keys and a bag before exiting your house, waving to art, who's sitting in his beaten up pickup truck. you can't help but giggle a little bit when his mouth drops open at the sight of you wearing less than he's probably ever seen you wear. getting into the car, you give him a quick peck on the cheek, art starts the car and you're on your way. as usual, arts hand finds its way to your thigh as he drives, his thumb slowly rubbing it side to side. "darlin' i-is that dress new?" you can tell arts nervous about asking, not wanting to offend you. "yeah sort of, i just haven't worn it yet. you like it?" you ask, knowing he does like it, you can tell by the way his eyes flick down every couple seconds to look at your exposed skin. he chuckles, nodding quickly as he turns into the outdoor movie theater parking lot. when he stops, you turn to art, subtly moving your arms to press your breasts together. batting your eyelashes, you ask, "art, baby would you grab me a soda from the concessions stand?" art has to tear his eyes away from your chest to answer, "'course sweetheart, be back in a minute" he exits the car, shutting the door and walking off.

now that he's gone, you can work on your plan even more, adjusting your bra to push up your breasts more, shimmying your skirt up to expose more of your legs, and pulling down a mirror to re-apply your shiny lip-gloss. taking a deep breath, you wait for art to return. when he gets back you smile sweetly at him, taking your drink and sucking on the straw and making eye contact with him. you don't see it, but art has to wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans, your suggestive actions making him break out in a sweat just from the effort to not jump your bones in this shitty drive in parking lot.

both you and art feel like the cheesy 90 minute movie is taking about 3 hours, for you, youre waiting for art to make a move, or at least signal that hes open to your obvious advances. for art, hes running scenario after scenario in his head, what could go right, what could go wrong, and everything in between. when the movie finally ends, art drives you home in silence, both of you trying to find something to say. stopping in front of your house he turns toward you, opening his mouth to say something before you interrupt him, "will you come inside?" art shuts his mouth quickly and nods, letting his cowboy hat fall in front of his flushed face.

walking up the steps to your door, art follows close behind you, bowing his head when he gets through the door. it's hard to the describe the feeling you get when youre walking towards your bedroom with art, hes been here before but this time feels different. sitting on the edge of your creaky bed, art makes the first move, cupping your face with his larger hand and pressing his mouth to yours, handling you soft and sweet, like he knows you deserve. he has to stop himself from groaning into your mouth when you move his hat off of his head, threading your fingers through his hair. art pulls you closer, his hands on your waist, lightly squeezing. the kiss turns more heated, and to your delight, art seems more accepting of the change of pace than he was in times before, the farthest you've gone was lightly grinding over his worn jeans. without taking his mouth off of yours, art moves you onto his lap, one hand on the small of your back to keep you steady, and the other one cupping your face gently. you have to pull away first, as much as you'd like to keep kissing him you don't want to suffocate. opening your eyes and pulling away you're able to see the cute flush on arts face, his pupils dialated and his hair messy. "i wanna keep going art.. please, ive asked you before" you don't want to sound desperate, but you are, the butterflies in your stomach becoming more intense. you can tell that arts mulling it over in his head, biting his lip.

"alright darlin' you trust me yeah? you have to tell me if you dont want me to do something, promis me, won't you?" he asks, the hand on your back rubbing up and down. you nod eagerly, "i promise art" art smiles, leaning in to kiss you again, this times with more passion than before, now knowing that you want everything he can give you. leaning into him, you undo the buttons on arts shirt quickly, helping him take it off of his shoulders. you run your hands down his chest, smiling into the kiss when he shivers. arts hands, callused from his work as a cowboy, dip under the hem of your shirt, helping you pull it up and over your shoulders. art attaches his lips to your neck, sucking and biting, leaving purple marks in his wake that you're sure will be hard to cover. under the guise of kissing your neck, arts expert hands undo the clasp of your bra, removing it from your chest. youre lost in the feeling of his mouth against you, arts lips moving against your chest. you try to reach down and undo arts belt, but it's proving more difficult than you thought. art, luckily knows what youre trying to do, moving you off of his lap and placing you gently against your pillows, kneeling between your spread legs.

arts mouth is against yours once again, you hear the clunk of his belt against the floor and you smile, letting him kiss his way down your stomach. art looks up at you from between your legs, his blue eyes meeting yours, "if you wanna go further i gotta prep you first, alright darlin'?" you nod, letting him slip off your skirt. in your haste, you had forgotten the special panties you were wearing just for him, but arts soft gasp against you brings you back to earth. he slips off your panties quickly as well, and you're almost offended that he didn't admire them more, until you notice him sticking them into his back pocket, the blue lace peeking out. art rubs a finger up and down your slick folds, his mouth coming to press a kiss on your clit, causing your hand to fly down to grip onto his hair. you feel him grin against you, before putting his mouth to work, pressing as close as he can to you. the sudden intrusion of one of his fingers startles you, causing you to clench tightly around him. he sighs onto you, the breath of warm air intensifying the feeling even more. "fuck sweetheart you gotta relax more for me, or else im never gonna fit in here.." he practically groans against you. you nod, letting your head flop against the pillow behind you, letting his thumb rub quick circles on your clit, distracting you from the stretch of another finger inside of you. you have to resist the urge to shut your thighs around arts head when he scissors his fingers inside of you, the feeling getting closer and closer to the pleasure you feel when you're alone in bed.

suddenly, you're ripped out of the clouds of pleasure when art takes his fingers out of you, making his way back up your body. he kisses your forehead, looking at you softly. "you have a condom right? i want you to be safe the first time" you nod, reaching into your bedside drawer for the box of condoms you got for this very occasion. he takes one from you, ripping off the wrapper with his teeth and pulling it over his dick. he hovers over you again, pressing his forehead against yours, noticing your wide eyes when you look down and see his size. he taps your cheek gently, "focus on me, okay? i promise ill take care of you darlin'" you nod, letting him press his tip into you. art sees the grimace on your face and pauses, letting you adjust. when he sees you've relaxed he starts again, repeating the cycle until he's fully pressed into you. now its your turn to tap him on the cheek, letting him know that he can start to move. arts eyes flutter closed, pulling his hips out slowly before thrusting back into you, pushing out moan after moan from you, his dick reaching spots your fingers never could. arts thrusts are languid and deep, making sure you can feel every inch of his when he pushes back into you. art almost looses his mind when you wrap your legs around his hips, making sure he isnt going anywhere. art can tell you're close, the way your moans are getting louder and louder in his ear, and the way you're pulsing around him. "i- im close art" you manage to get the words out between moans. art nods, speeding up his thrusts to meet your needs. "alright sweetheart.. it's okay, it's okay, fuck, im close too" he groans out, his hips starting to stutter. lucky for art, you cum first, he thinks the guilt of cumming before you on your first time would eat him alive. he kisses you through your orgasm, swallowing your moans of his name as he gives you a few last thrusts before he's tumbling over the edge right after you. art lets you ride out your orgasm before slowly pulling out, throwing away the condom and laying down next to you. after you catch your breath, you lay your head on arts chest, the steady beat of his heart calming your own. his hand comes to hold yours, squeezing it gently. "you did real good for your first time darlin'" you smile, grateful for the praise from him. you reach over the bed, grabbing his cowboy hat and putting it on. "next time ill be on top okay? i wanna be a cowgirl" you giggle, winking at him. he laughs and shakes his head, rubbing your back. "you don't even know what youre getting yourself into sweetheart.." <3

[lancestrollsgf]

# THE BETTER NORRIS ! F1 GRID X ADOPTED NORRIS! READER, SMAU (2)

introduction master list request list

part one, part two, part three.

# WARNINGS: cussing, i know nothing about the parents of lando so everything is fictional. reader speaks spanish!! lowercase intended, spelling errors (english isn't my first language). lando's actual siblings are not featured in this since I don't know anything about them. hate comments towards reader and ollie. excessive usage of emojis such as "🙄, 🤫, 🤣,😝, 😭,😊,😉”.

# SUMMARY: the adventures of the formula one driver lando norris adopted sibling, y/n norris.

# AUTHOR’S NOTE: thank you so much for the support on the first part (it’s insane love yall sm). so here is part two, hooray!!! here is part one!!! lowkey worried this isn’t gonna be as good as the first part i'm so sorry 😭😭 this is way shorter because the timeline is until before the hungarian gp so there isn’t much to post about (there will be a part three 🤫🤫) btw for the sake of the story ollie attends all the grand prixs (at least from this point foward). excuse. more in-depth reason this is short is because i started writing this july 11 and i didn’t expect the first part to get that many likes so i only came up with ideas up until after the british grand prix. the next part will have all 9 posts and not only 5 😘

# FACE CLAIM: marian guevara/theatomicbomb on instagram and tiktok

— instagram !

liked by landonorris, lancestroll, lawerence_stroll, and 1,284,820 others

thebetternorris thank you so much, @.astonmartinf1 for the invite to the british grand prix, my home grand prix. i’m so grateful for the gift, thank you @lawerence_stroll 💚. congrats to @.landonorris for p3 and congrats to @.lancestroll for p7 😝😝 👤: @.landonorris, @.lancestroll, @.tommyhilfiger @.astonmartinf1

astonmartinf1: thank you y/n for coming to our garage!! loved having you there 💚

-> mclaren: you better have enjoyed this grand prix because next one we’re keeping y/n.

-> thebetternorris: guys dw there’s enough of me to go around 😏😏

username42: y/n rizzing up the admins is crazy 😭

landonorris: did you really have to use that picture of me. i look horrible.

-> thebetternorris: you always look horrible 🙄🙄

lancestroll: still can’t believe my dad actually got you something.

-> thebetternorris: time to make room for me in the family 🤫🤫

fernando_alooficial: gracias por venir y apoyarnos y/n 💚 (thank you for coming and supporting us y/n)

-> thebetternorris: de nada fernando, tu eres mi idolo 🥹🥹 felicidades con p8 💚 (you’re welcome fernando, you’re my idol 🥹🥹 congrats with p8 💚)

lawerence_stroll: lovely meeting you y/n, hope you enjoyed my gift

-> thebetternorris: thank you so much for the gift, lovely meeting you too mr.stroll

-> lawerence_stroll: @thebetternorris please call me lawerence

-> thebetternorris: @.lancestroll your dad likes me more than you

-> lancestroll: @thebetternorris just because he let you call him by his first name doesn't mean get likes you more 🙄 it’s not like he bought you an f1 team

-> thebetternorris: @.lancestroll you're so sassy...

username43: lance's reply being “it’s not like he bought you an f1 team” IS SO FUNNY LMFAOOO

username44: lance and y/n acting like siblings 😭

-> thebetternorris: @lawerence_stroll please adopt me

username45: y/n is so pretty

username46: why did lawerence gift y/n something from tommy hilfiger?

-> username47: im guessing its because he invests in tommy hilfiger

username48: how come aston martin invited her to her home grand prix but not mclaren?

-> mclaren: unfortunately we sent the invitation too late

-> astonmartinf1: @.mclaren finder keepers looser weepers 😝

username49: even though y/n is one of the driver's siblings they still sent the invitation late LMFAO

-> mclaren: we wouldn't have had to sent an invite if "someone..." hadn't told y/n so late.

-> landonorris: @.mclaren I DIDN'T KNOW SHE WOULD GET AN INVITE FROM ANOTHER TEAM 😞

username50: the mclaren admin trying to clear their name ✊🏼

-> mclaren: i’m trying my best 😞

username51: y/n giving unseen photos of lance and lando

username52: y/n’s camera is probably full of unseen photos of drivers we may never see 😔

-> thebetternorris: 🤫🤫

-> username53: WHAT DOES THIS MEAN??

username54: y/n calling it her home grand prix 🥹

zhouguanyu24: thank you for the keychain and the toy for sweet corn 😁

-> thebetternorris: of course!! 😊

username55: lance and lando an underrated duo

view all 9,921 comments

july 7, 2024

liked by landonorris, itsyoungmiko, olliebearman, and 1,402,027 others

thebetternorris parties in london go crazyy 🍾👤: @.itsyoungmiko, @.arcangel, @.friend1, @.friend2

itsyoungmiko: it was lovely meeting you twin 😈

-> thebetternorris: lovely meeting you too 😘

landonorris: do you just take photos with random people.

-> friend1: lando we've met before...

-> thebetternorris: don't talk about my twin young miko like that 😡

arcangle: loved partying with you norris!!

landonorris: you’re finally partying at home and not in the burger land😒

-> thebetternorris: BURGER LAND???

-> landonorris: the united states or whatever 🙄

username56: two posts in one day omg???

username57: y/n and young miko do look so much alike omg 🤨

olliebearman: it was lovely meeting you y/n

-> thebetternorris: hi ollie, it was great meeting you too 😆 congrats on your haas contract 🤫🤫

-> olliebearman: thank you! 😊

username58: y/n and ollie interacting???

username59: is no one gonna mention that y/n and ollie were in the same place??

username60: can y/n drink? i thought she was too young..

-> username61: she is too young. she’s only seventeen, but even then why are you assuming she’s drinking 😟?

username62: a sneak peak of the photo's y/n has in her camera

view all 3,939 comments

july 7, 2024

— instagram stories !

thebetternorris and olliebearman added to stories

replies to thebetternorris story

landonorris replied to your story: WHO IS THIS??? TAKE THAT SMILEY FACE OFF AND COME BACK HOME.

lewishamilton replied to your story: is this what you call soft launching?

oscarpiastri replied to your story: please answer lando’s messages. he’s been pacing back and forth for the past ten minutes.

username63 replied to your story: Y/N IS THAT A GUY???

username64 replied to your story: YOU’RE SOFT LAUNCHING??

pepemartiofficial replied to your story: quén es?

username65 replied to your story: you’re such an artist 😻

replies to olliebearman story:

charles_leclerc replied to your story: son, are you dating a girl?

kimi.antonelli replied to your story: mate. you didn’t tell me you were going to the beach today? you didn’t even invite me 😞

arthur_leclerc replied to your story: 🤨

username66 replied to your story: IS THAT A GIRLL? OLLIEEE

username67 replied to your story: since when did you take such aesthetic photos?

username68 replied to your story: soft lauching omg??

view more messages

july 8, 2024

— instagram !

liked by thebetternorris, charles_leclerc, and 392,921 others

olliebearman got to drive an f1 car in silverstone 👍🏼

username69: i’m sobbing, he’s so cute 😭😭

charles_leclerc: so proud, congrats ollie 👍🏼

-> olliebearman: thank you dad! 👍🏼

-> username70: i can see where ollie got his thumbs up from. LMAO

thebetternorris: a thumbs up is such a dad move

-> olliebeaman: compliment or?

-> thebetternorris: compliment ofc ☺️

-> olliebearman: oh okay then, thank you y/n :)

username71: ollie has rizz???

username72: going from a ferrari reserve driver to a haas f1 driver is such a downgrade 😬

-> thebetternorris: you’re saying that as if you can even drive a formula one car ever 🤣

-> username73: HELLO??? y/n defending ollie 🫣🫣

username74: HIS EYES ARE SO CUTE 😔😔

username75: a semi F1 car

-> thebetternorris: more than you’ll ever achieve. bullying a eighteen year old at 26 years old is embarrassing.

-> username76: Y/N DEFENDING OLLIE 😍😍

username77: i can't wait to see ollie every race week

username78: y/n defending ollie is so cute

view all 500 comments

COMMENTS ON THIS POST HAVE BEEN LIMITED.

july 9th, 2024

liked by landonorris, olliebearman, lilyzneimer, and 826,281 others

y/n.jpg surprise, new account 🤭 very first post is a photo dump, from beach day 🌊☀️ 07/08/24

landonorris: copycat 😒😒 be original for once. same username and everything

-> y/n.jpg: 🙄🙄

landonorris: WAIT A MINUTE. WHAT IS THAT THIRD PHOTO. Y/N NORRIS. WHO IS THAT???

-> y/n.jpg: 😜

-> landonorris: Y/N NORRIS. WHERE ARE YOU.

username80: y/n’s first post on her jpg account is a soft launch. this has got to be a halluaction.

username81: if someone told me that y/n would make a jpg account and soft launch a guy. i would never believe you.

username82: the second picture is so cute 😭

username83: the difference in the two comments lando commented. LMFAOO

-> username84: i’m guessing he commented “copycat” before seeing the photos and then commented the second one 🤣🤣

username85: two of the norris siblings have a jpg account that’s so cute

username86: ollie in the likes 🤨

lilyzneimer: you're so pretty

-> thebetternorris: thank u lily, love u

username87: both ollie and y/n posted about being at the beach the night after they met..

-> username88: nah you guys are reaching..

oscarpiastri: y/n please. don't do this rn 😭

-> thebetternorris: 🤫🤫

username89: you guys are assuming that y/n is with everyone leave her alone 😭😭

olliebearman: should i make a jpg account too?

-> thebetternorris: yes you should!! i can help u make it if you would like 🤫

-> olliebearman: ah yes that would be helpful 😁

username90: y’all won’t even let y/n be friends with the opposite gender before immediately shipping them together

username91: everyone saying that we're reaching and what not. but what about the comment between y/n and ollie… 🤨🤨

username92: the third photo looks a little similar to the one ollie posted on his story; the same day. 🫣

username93: there’s definitely gonna be something happening between the ollie and y/n because why else would she defend him in his own comments

view all 11,191 comments

july 11th, 2024

liked by olliebearman, landonorris, lewishamilton, and 947,829 others

y/n.jpg digital camera photos from silverstone 💫 lando taking a little nap in the fourth photo 😴 btw congrats on your win lewis 😉. 👤: @.landonorris, @.oscarpiastri, @.roscoelovescoco, @ciscawuaman, @adam_norris_pure_electric, @lewishamilton

username93: i love y/n for giving us unseen photos

username94: oscar doing a shoey 🤔

-> thebetternorris: ik right disgusting 🤢

-> oscarpiastri: @thebetternorris hey. i didn’t like it anymore that you did.

-> username94: OSCAR AND Y/N REPLYING TO MY COMMENT. THIS ISN’T REAL.

roscoelovescoco: 🤍🤍

-> thebetternorris: ROSCOEE

username95: oh to be photographed on y/n’s camera and posted on her account 😞

-> thebetternorris: i just dm’ed you!!

-> username96: @.username95 well tell us, what did she dm you omg???

-> username95: @.username96 she gave me tickets to the next gp 😭😭😭 i’m distraught rn 🥹🥹

-> username97: @.username95 HELLO??? FREE TICKETS???

lewishamilton: thank u for the congrats y/n 🩵

-> thebetternorris: of courseee 😉

username98: these photos are so cute omg 💔

thebetternorris: do you guys see how @.landonorris replaces me with another kid 💔 guess i’m not his favorite nor youngest sibling anymore 😞

-> landonorris: y/n. i don’t think mom or dad could or want to adopt another kid especially after dealing with you.

-> thebetternorris: MOMMM 😭😭😭 @ciscawuaman

-> cisacawuaman: @.landonorris please. you may be right but don’t comment this on the internet. @thebetternorris we love you y/n, i would adopt you all over again and as many times i could 😘

username99: y/n is literally living every formula one fan’s dream 😖

-> username98: considering she is literally lando’s sister she’s been living the life since day one 😭

username100: THE FIRST PHOTO HELLO??? 😍

francisca.cgomes: hii y/n! it was lovely meeting you. are you going to the next gp? i would love to hang out with you ☺️

-> y/n.jpg: hi kika 😁, yes i will be!! i loved meeting you, you’re the sweetest, i would love to hang out with you too ☺️

username101: y/n is genuinely so pretty omg 🫣

landonorris: don’t think this is distracting me from the post you made previously..

-> thebetternorris: 🤫🤫

username102: i was at the grand prix and seeing y/n on the fan stage was so surreal.

username103: i met y/n at the grand prix and she got my hat signed by both oscar and lando, she’s so sweet 😭😭😭

-> username104: stop me too. she got all of my mclaren stuff signed by them 🥹🥹

username105: i met y/n and when i asked her to sign my shirt she was so shocked it was so precious 😞

view all 10,829 comments

july 12, 2024

comment to be tagged in the next part. (pls mention if you wanna be added to my general taglist or just this series taglist)

taglist: @yawn-zi @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @d3kstar @inejghafawifesblog @azeal-peal @hadids-world @sumlovesjude @poppyflower-22 @formulaonebuff @bloodyymaryyy @kodzuvk @matchalyne @ynnasaint @morsstuff @2pagenumb @velentine @keii134 @deepeststarlightmoon @wobblymug @xoscar03 @raizelchrysanderoctavius (if you are tagged here, i will mostly likely tag you again in the third part)

READ PLEASE/URGENT: hello!! thank you so much for the support on this story. just wanted to share some links about the crisis/situation in venezuela. an undeniable cause of election fraud is happening in venezuela, spread awareness. how to help refugees near you. explanation of the situation. donate/help families forced to flee. the reason i’m sharing this is because the face claim for this story is from venezuela, but furthermore because the situation in venezuela is not being publicized enough. even just sharing these links will do a lot. sadly, i could not find any more links other than those three.

[amazinglyashy]

hellow ash! Dropping here since I got hooked from the last post ehe. If it's okay...idk if its OOC but, can you do some shorts or fic on like mc just wanting a peaceful, quiet life? away from fighting or mental battle. Esp Raf and Sy, they canonly seem to be the ones with most hard-core agenda. What if MC just want peace, yet entangled with them is sureway of NOT having that life? can they make it happen? or will they just shield mc in her dream fantasy life while they battle the real world? as we know even mc herself is already target from many unwanted people...so how?? idk sorry for ramblinggg😫😫😫

(its kinda personal since if I could, I'd just live in a small town with a garden like harvest moon game, away from stress and ambitious grasp of capitalism, buttt yea that's a dream only 🥲🙃)

I'm a firm believer that MC is however me and my readers/requesters make them, so no worries about OOC here :D also don't ever worry about rambling, I always love your comments on my posts and works 😭😭❤️ I did my best, hope you enjoy!!

LaDS men when all you want is to live a quiet life -

Sylus -

He knows his way in and out of the world, and every which way to get what he wants. Still, knowing your wishes-

It's hard.

Not because it's not conducive in your relationship, no- he'd give you the world if you so much as asked him. But it is a bit... difficult, to say the least, trying to figure out how to acquire you the life you seem desperate for.

He does understand your reasoning, though.

He would do his best to first make some of his more rural safe houses even more habitable- style choices that fit your tastes, a nook for you to relax in or do work, and anything you could think of that would help with your hobbies. Those houses become your little retreat, and they always have anything you could ever want stocked to the brim.

Luke and Kieran visit you often, or will occasionally take you elsewhere for a day out in town or further in the city. Unbeknownst to you, it's usually when someone has been targeting you and Sylus is... taking care of it behind your back.

Even if he can't stop his work after being so deep after all these years- even if he can't stop the people who are constantly targeting you for simply existed- he's going to do absolutely everything within his power to ensure you get to live the life you have chosen.

Especially with him.

Zayne -

All he wants in life is to help you find your peace.

That's all.

If living a quiet life is what helps you achieve that, then he's all for it.

He may sheepishly admit to you just how worried your Hunter's Association job would make him, wondering if the next gurney wheeled into his operating room would be you after a particularly grueling battle, or after running into the wrong person who had been after you for what nestled within your heart.

So this is definitely a plus to him.

By extension, he's also perfectly fine if you want to be stay-at-home. He makes more than enough as a surgeon to support the both of you extremely comfortably, and he knows that life really... hasn't been the kindest to you.

He's used to a bit of a commute, just trying to fight out of his driveway in the city center, so if you want to live somewhere further out in order to have space to garden, he'll figure out how to make it a reality for you.

Sometimes, he'll come home with something new for you- a type of seed for the coming season, a new book, some fresh supply for a craft you've been working on- anything, and he takes a lot of pleasure in seeing the smile break across your face whenever he does.

Rafayel -

Oh that's easy. Four words-

Beach house + Sea God.

Easy.

Hearing your wish surprises him a little, but it's nothing if not relieving to him.

He's spent forever, and then again, just trying to find you and also ensure your safety- from both up close, and from afar. It's difficult with how much trouble you get yourself into, and with the trouble you don't get yourself into that just seems to find you.

Honestly, this just makes his life so much easier.

Rafayel is so used to soloing against people looking to do you harm or bring trouble to you, so this isn't too much different than what he used to do before you two met again. And if you come to live with him along the seaside, it's that much easier for him.

He's in his element, so discovering anything insidious lurking near is easy, and he can usually take care of the issue long before it could ever reach you, much less get to you and you finally getting to have a breather in life.

One of his favorite things is a quiet day at home with you, sitting high on a ladder as he works on another giant painting, working towards the top just so that he can peer out the window- he loves watching you work on the garden boxes he bought for you, even if you don't notice him yourself.

Xavier -

He's bared witness to everything you've been through- at least the worst of it. Anything he hasn't, you've definitely brought him up to speed with nervous laughs and late night conversation when the two of you were awake past when you should be.

So he knows.

He knows you mean it when you tell him your wish.

He also knows you more than deserve it.

Xavier will smile it off easily, asking you if that isn't already what you've been doing with him- snuggling during the colder months on the couch in his apartment, waiting for him to finish his assignments and come home to a half-finished movie and a stale bowl of popcorn you fell asleep eating. The butter was tacky now like the tips of your fingers against the blanket he'll need to wash tomorrow as he picks you up to take you to bed.

Living somewhere out of the city is doable to him, and he'll let you pick the place. Occasional visits into the city are a necessity, though- how else is he going to supply Jerimiah with the harvests from your gorgeous garden if not? It's a nice little living, in addition to whatever Xavier brings in.

It also helps him really appreciate the smaller things in life. He never really knew how much he would love dancing in the kitchen as the sun sets through the window, until now.

[rainychaoloveshack]

hiiii i stumbled across ur blog like a couple days ago and. ive been so obsessed with all ur posts theyre so yummy!!! (ESPECIALLY UR BOOM??? ik u mentioned u werent all that familar with him but,,, that one oneshot had me salivating oml)

anyways could i maybe ask for a sonic x reader where they give him a bath bc he's stinky 🤧 just modern/game is fine smile

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟ 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠.

sonic had a nice adventure outside. unfortunately, remnants of said adventure were brought into your home. its bath time.

⋆°•☁︎ content . sonic x gn!reader, fluff, sort of shitpost-esque writing but i still did take it seriously i swear anon

☂︎ wc. 1.1k ☂︎ a/n. hueheh this request had me giggling. silly dirty ass mf 😭😭😭 i was messing around during it huehehe this is your reminder to not take me too seriously sometimes 😋still pretty short but i hope you like it ^^ def not my best work but i hope you like it regardless ^^'

likes, reblogs, and especially comments are extremely appreciated!!! (i like chatting to you guys!)

“You know I can take a simple bath by myself, right?” Sonic growls, watching you kneel down and check the water's temperature for him with your forefinger. Not too hot, not too cold. “Plus, I already took a shower. The dirt’s gone already. No need for a bath, right?” Now why is he acting like that bathtub is going to kill him? 

“Could’ve gotten it all out if you hadn’t pulled me out the shower.” He mutters. “If you had wanted me to take a bath at all, you should’ve said that bef-” You frown, interrupting his rambling by knocking on the side of the bathtub with your fingers in a way that’s telling him to hurry up and get in. You can still smell the mud on him.

And it’s not bad to take precautions. Plus, if the shower didn’t get every single spec of dirt out of his quills, the bath will. Having even one spec of dirt come back inside the house after Sonic’s grand entrance of mud-filled footsteps, and right after you had to clean said mess, might just make you go crazy.

“I already said I was sorry...” He trails off, peering into the tub before taking a step back. You mutter a short curse his way and tug him by his arm, refusing to take no for an answer.

Sonic winces slightly at the volume of the water in the tub but lets out a sigh once he sees your stern expression. “Oh, alright…” He grumbles, spitting out soft curses about his distaste for water as he slips off his gloves, following with his socks right after.

… Paw-beans.

“Hmm?” Sonic’s ear flicks at your small murmuring, turning your way just as he’s about to step into the bath. “You say something?”

You shake your head, trying to make him forget your small slip-up, and urge him into the tub with a small shove. The moment his foot enters the water, you can visibly see a shiver tremble through his body.

“Eugh.” Despite his little complaints, he takes another step in the bubbly water, slowly settling himself into it with unpleasant grumbling, the water reaching up to his chin. “Make it fast. Being submerged in water for too long makes me uneasy…”

Like him? Make it as fast as ‘Sonic speed’, some might say?

His head snaps in your direction, opening his mouth to say something back to your crude teasing, but it closes instantly as you cup water into your hands and pour it over his head, watching it run off his quills and back into the bath.

That shut him up quickly. 

And so it begins.

The water runs down and seeps into his fur, then drips off once it gets too soaked, mixing with the bubbly suds already present. You rub his ear in a slow motion, cupping water up from the bath and pouring it over to get any extra dirt out. So far so surprisingly good; the baths running fairly clear, besides the small bit of dirt or so. Maybe he did get all the dirt out after all? Or maybe it was just his shoes that were the problem? No, then you wouldn’t have seen all those specs of black and brown in his fur. What, did he roll down a hill or-

“Hey, be careful with my quills!” Sonic’s body flinches as you accidentally prod and pull too deeply during your thoughts. “Can’t you be a little more gentle? The bath’s been clear for the past half hour.” He clarifies. “At this point, I’m not sure if you’re still trying to get any dirt out, or if you just like pampering me.”

Oh. Well damn.

Your hand lowers from his head, and it dawns upon you that yes, for once Sonic is actually right about your behavior, and the embarrassment washes over your figure, staggering your motions as you go to unplug the drain, but he stops you with a small kick of his foot at your hand.

“I didn’t say you had to stop.” Sonic mutters, before putting on his best ‘I deserve the world’ act a spoiled child would have towards everyone else. “I’m actually enjoying the attention!” He puffs his chest out, trying to put on a smug face for you, but a splash of water in his face turns that smugness to irritation, shaking his head around like a dog would their body as water flings in every direction possible. You hold your hands up in front of your face, your soaking wet hands dripping onto your lap and the bathroom floor as you shield yourself from the blue blurs little water assault. Ugh. Looks like he’s getting a kick out of your annoyance.

“It’s not so bad.” Sonic says plainly, flexing his fingers in the water in front of him, before adjusting himself to rest his arms on the tub’s edge, resting his head down to let your preen and run your fingers through his quills, forgetting to scrub through them at all. “You know, I wouldn’t mind if you pampered me like this more often.” Sonic reaches over and drags a soggy, wet, finger across your arm, leaving small water droplets on your skin as he moves it up towards your hand, currently resting on your lap as the other one rubs against his shoulder briefly. “Think I deserve it a little, ya’ know?” He shimmies his shoulders a bit, yet his tail wags all the same under the water, eager for your answer, even if you give him a plain ‘no’.

Well, if he could be more aware of himself and clean up after his little escapades, you would. But for now, the punishment bath it is. Though, with the way he was acting at first, someone might’ve thought he was taking a small dunk in acid.

Sonic doesn’t utter a word at your own little joke, but he shakes his head disapprovingly, glaring at you for a few seconds as his eyes flick over you up and down, then he relaxes. “You’re gonna help me dry off after this too, right?” He chirps, and you shake your head, already firm in the belief that you deserve some rest after cleaning up the house. Not to mention the other house chores you’ve already done today.

“Aw man...” Sonic says softly, before growling under his breath in your direction, ears pinning down, obviously in a joking manner, and he flicks some water in your direction off his fingertips, splashing onto your shirt and lap. “You can’t just take me a bath and then chicken out once we’re almost at the finish line! Come on.” Another flick of water comes flying your way, this time hitting you in the face, and you scowl, cupping up some water in your palm to splash it back at him.

“Aw, hey, come on!” His tone of voice makes it sound like a complaint, but his expression is the complete opposite; a fat grin spreads across his muzzle and another small splash of water makes its way to you, soaking your shirt. Oh, so that's how it is?

“What? What’re you gonna do about it?”

Stupid hedgehog. Sometimes it’s a mystery how you haven’t gone crazy by now from all his antics.

… Oh well; time to fetch that towel.

[bluemerakis]

┌── ˚*❀*̥˚ ─── ˚*̥❀*˚ ──┐

✐ᝰ bluemerakis

┗━━• ❃ ° •° ❀ °• ° ❃ •━━┛

❝ I’m not going anywhere ❞

⤷ Part 2/3

⤷ Read part 1 here

⤷ Word count: 15.9k (I’m SO sorry 😭)

[18+ ONLY!!]

═════════════════

PAIRING:

S3!Soldier Boy x fem!reader

WARNINGS:

Cussing, mild angst, mild harassment of reader via side character, described violence (nothing intense), reader being a baddie (as she should), fluff, spanking, pet names. Lmk if I forgot any! :))

SYNOPSIS:

As you make all the preparations for tonight’s plan to flee the Russian compound, you run into trouble that forces you to confront your Supe nature.

The Boys arrive shortly after to help you free Ben, where you discover that he has a new, deadly power.

Unresolved tension forces yourself and Ben to split from the rest of the group and find your own way out.

═════════════════

From the sidelines of the testing room, you watched with wistful eyes as the heavily armed guards streamed inside and fanned around Ben’s entrapped figure. He put on a display for them, writhing between the chains and hurling out all manner of insults to convey his disdain of the Russians. You knew the emotions were true, only more dramatised for the sake of make-belief; it was any other day, not the last.

Through the planned commotion, Ben slipped you a discreet glance, and you caught the slightest dip of his chin before his head was forcibly pressed against the table by one of the guards. Your heart ached at the sight of his fully-pinned figure, more guards streaming in through the door and swarming about him like an exploded hornet’s nest on the prowl for its next victim. One of the braver men came up to press an arm across your boyfriend’s neck and slapped an oxygen mask over his flaring nose and mouth, then with a single flick of the mechanism, Novichok gas streamed into the chamber.

As the nerve agent buffeted Ben’s unwilling airways, the guards had to fix his head in place with great effort as he attempted to dislodge the mask with grunts of protest. His lungs were desperate to reject the debilitating gas with strong fits of coughing, but his effort was to no avail.

You watched as the Supe’s frantic movements began to dwindle, the anger framing his eyes softening with his wilting glare. He blinked many times to try and fight off the haze, but it consumed him entirely— finally stilling him into a docile puppet. His eyes lolled to the back of his head, his lids clamping shut to preserve his dignity while the clatter of chains against the steel table settled at last.

And just like that, the super-abled, invincible brute that was Soldier Boy had been subdued.

The guards held their formation for a few seconds longer, the mask suffocating half of Ben’s face emitting the last of its gas for good measure. Once they were certain that he was asleep, they slowly began to release their hold on him, the oxygen mask removed from his face. The last guard to go was the one still holding Ben’s limp head, and when he was given the go ahead, he released it without a care, causing it to topple to the side to face you.

You grimaced at the lack of respect they showed his comatose form—yeah, he was extremely short of a saint, but he was still a person, one who’d been subjected to years of torture and experiments that should have killed him at any point. If there was anything that could’ve warranted some ounce of respect, you’d have settled for that fact alone. But you couldn’t have much of a say in the matter when he was only supposed to be your experiment.

Besides, in your line of work, you’d be speaking from the place of a fucking hypocrite—what’s a little rough handling compared to repeatedly stabbing poisoned needles into his arm, just hoping it doesn’t kill him?

Taking in a deep breath, you lifted your chin slightly with a great effort to appear unfazed by the entire ordeal. You couldn’t help drinking in Ben’s expressionless features, though, noting that for the first time since you’d known him, he looked almost peaceful. You hoped that he was—that he’d been swept into some or other dream to help him pass the time of this dull, inhumane routine. You recalled the dream he’d told you about only an hour earlier, the one where’d you’d both been an entangled mess within his bed.

Despite the crude way he’d painted the picture, it had been a rather fond milestone in your relationship. It was the first time Ben had found it in himself to man up—as ironic as that sounded—and admit with his own two lips that he loved you.

You walled off your thoughts as the head guard appeared at your side, your attention shifting to where they brought in a rolling table and lined it up beside the operating table. You watched as the guards slowly began to undo the chains wreathed around Ben’s sleeping figure.

“Did everything go smoothly?” The head guard asked, his voice muffled beneath his all black ensemble. His shoulder lined up beside yours as he turned to watch Ben’s unloading beside you.

You heaved a subtle sigh through your nose, head fixed forward as you watched them shovel your boyfriend’s body onto the rolling table with a spiteful lack of care. Not having the energy to speak, you offered a mere nod.

Thankfully, your response was satisfactory enough, the guard returning your nod before he left your side to bring up the rear of the patrol rolling Ben toward the exit. The Supe’s arm was dangled over the side of the table, and your eyes latched onto the plaster you’d placed before he was moved through the doorway and the sight was ripped from view.

But the image lingered in your mind. Never again would you have to place another plaster—or needle—in his arm. Come tonight, there’d be no need to because you’d both be free of this rotten hellhole.

The testing room became eerily quiet as you were left alone to bathe in your emotional haze. There were a few routinely things you’d have to do before tonight’s escape. You glanced over your shoulder at the case you’d left on table, the one that had born the experimental compound you’d injected into Ben. It was standard procedure to return the case to the experimental lab following each session, along with completing a written log about the process—vitals, patient response, any hiccups in the administration.

You were tempted to forsake it all out of spite. A harsh scolding and beating for failure to comply would matter little if you weren’t here to receive the punishment. But you knew you couldn’t risk the extra attention of getting caught in misconduct—couldn’t let your emotions get the best of you when there was so much riding on your role in tonight’s plan. So you held your breath, not without scorn, and marched over to collect the case before leaving the room without so much as a last glance back.

There was no detail worth remembering about that place—if anything, you hoped its image would fade within short time.

The day was still young. With far too much time to kill, you’d fulfilled your duties by returning all the equipment to its due place. You’d been in and out of almost every room of the compound, where you’d made a point to start discreetly packing a branded corporate backpack you’d nicked from the clothing and gear room. You’d begun loading it with necessary supplies—a first aid kit, medication, clothing, even managing to procure a set of burner phones for yourself and Ben.

Throughout it all, you’d kept your pace brisk to minimise interactions with the far too chatty employees of the establishment. The last thing you needed was to get caught in conversation with a loaded and somewhat illegal backpack in clutch.

To wrap up your tedious responsibilities of the day, you were bent over one of the tables in the compound’s common room, logging all the details of your session into the designated book. The bitter aroma of filter coffee hung in the air, which you breathed in with eager appreciation. As much as this place sucked, the coffee had always been good—great, even. There’d been a pot brewing before you entered the room, and you only hoped that the person who’d put it on wouldn’t return while you were still around.

The backpack was laid between your feet as you scribbled away busily, keeping the details of your time with Ben as subtle and concise as possible. Your hand dragged along the paper to terminate the log with your signature, and just as you set the pen down with a tired sigh, a heavyset pair of boots pounded into the room.

Your heart seized on the spot with a heartfelt fuck.

“Hey, you,” an all too familiar voice greeted.

You glanced over your shoulder to confirm the worst of your suspicions, where you were faced with the guard that’d gotten into a spat with Ben. He had the beginning of light bruising all around his nose that had bloomed up the route of his sinuses, light purple crescents propping up both his eyes. You had to fashion great restraint to avoid grimacing at the sight. You were surprised he’d walk around with such a visual admittance of defeat in the first place, as opposed to signing off early and hiding out at home until the bruising wore off.

“Oh—hey,” you pushed out tensely, turning your body to fully face him before leaning your backside against the table. You crossed your one leg in front of the other and used your furthermost heel to try and slide your backpack beneath the table, bidding internal prayers that his attention wouldn’t stray to your restless movements. “Finishing off your shift?” You asked, eager to hold his attention.

The guard must’ve noticed your gaze lingering on his bruises for a few seconds too long because he dragged a hasty palm over his face before cradling the back of his neck out of hot embarrassment.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he insisted. “I’ve always been a big bleeder and bruiser—my mother used to tease me about it when I was a little boy, always falling and scraping my knees. I used to look like I’d come back from a war,” he laughed behind an almost expectant stare, so you forced a chuckle to entertain his babbling.

He took a step toward you, and there was far too little space between your bodies for your liking. “Anyways. . . would you, uh, maybe like to have a coffee with me? There’s enough in the pot for two, and I wouldn’t want it to go to waste. It should be done soon.”

You glanced over your shoulder at the brewing pot in the corner of the room, then turned back to him with a polite smile. “I appreciate that, but not tonight. It’s been a long day, to say the least. I really just need to get home and crawl into bed.”

With another smile, you leaned your hands against the table, fingers beginning to tap at the wood impatiently. Get the fuck out of here already, you groaned internally, ankle feeling at the fabric of your backpack.

During work hours in the compound, no employee was allowed to carry around baggage. It was a safety precaution to ensure no items would be stolen. All baggage had to be checked in and out at the front desks, where the guards—guards like him—would do a thorough search to ensure nobody had nicked anything time-worthy. And then the baggage would be checked into a personal locker for the entire day until closing time.

Nothing coming in, nothing going out.

The only exception is the branded backpack you currently carried, which was often used to transport equipment between rooms of the compound. But they were typically reserved for the technician assistants—as is their job to lug around equipment for the more important personnel. And you had no business carrying one around at this hour of the day, anyway—most of the employees would’ve already signed off and headed home with no further work to pursue.

It made you suspicious, to say the least. Getting caught with supplies like medication and burner phones would warrant you a one-way ticket to a good beating. There would be no passable excuse you could pluck from the depths of your ass to cover yourself against that.

You needed to get out of here. Now.

The guard looked briefly offended by your rejection, but was quick to blink away the expression before lifting a hand to wipe his nose incredulously.

“Okay—yeah, of course,” he sniffed, briefly glancing off to the side. When he turned to look at you again, he crossed his arms as he did a sweep over your figure. “Well, shouldn’t you be off, then? You seem pretty comfortable, unless you’re not in a rush to get home to a boyfriend?”

You could have scoffed at his transparency, but with a man like him, you doubted that he’d take it well, and you had no idea whether anyone would be around to hear you scream. Not that you had real reason to be afraid—you were a Supe well within her abilities to protect herself. Only, very few in the establishment still knew that. You’d been around for far too long, watching as other employees came and went with the years while you remained tethered by emotional obligation. A done deal. Love.

Besides, you liked to keep your business on the down-low, it was safer that way. Most of the employees here were as anti-Supe as most of the world—and why wouldn’t they be? This entire operation was quite literally founded on experimenting on the super-abled. There was no remorse, or love for Supes to be found here.

You tried to pass a nonchalant shrug. “I guess I’m not in a rush,” you admitted tensely, extra hyperaware of the backpack you’d now managed to successfully push beneath the table.

The guard took another step closer, now directly towering over you. “Then you could stay for that coffee, yeah?” He prompted, his voice low and dripping with distasteful intent. “No boyfriend to get back to, right?” He added more softly, teeth flashing with a lewd grin. You caught his eyes flickering down to your lips.

No way in fucking hell. Standing a little taller, you returned his gaze firmly. “No, thanks,” you reiterated, holding your ground as he glared you down. You refused to be intimidated by him; he’d have to know that, too.

The guard looked eerily thoughtful. “All right,” he relented, but his cornering position didn’t falter. “Just one last thing, though. . .” He trailed off with a smugness that tugged at your patience. You knew he was playing some sort of twisted game, and he wanted you to take your turn.

“What’s that?” You pushed out disinterestedly. You expected that he’d try and find some other angle to knead that would get you to relent to his harassment. But what he said next was far from expected, your body seizing on the spot as your heart plummeted to the depths of your chest.

“You think I didn’t notice that little bag you’ve been sneaking around the entire day?”

Your breathing became shallow, and you couldn’t do anything but watch as the guard bent his head to creep his lips close to your ear.

“I’ve been watching you all day.” His breath was hot against your chilled skin, setting off your instinct to flee. “Now, I could be asking you what you need all of those things for. . .” His hands came to trap your body on either side of the table. “Or, we could come to a little agreement, and I’ll let your little rule-breaker slip, hm?”

You craned your head away from his lips, turning to face him with a scorching frown. “Get the fuck off of me,” you spat lowly.

The guard looked mildly amused. “Or what?” He challenged.

Without replying, you lifted your hand from the table, palm facing skywards as your fingers began to curl with malicious intent. The guard’s attention flickered down to witness your gesture with clear confusion etched across his battered face—but the confusion was quickly turned to panic as your fingers began to draw into a slow first, and the Supe that you’d buried deep within you all those years ago began to resurface.

At the will of your fist, you watched the vessels of his eyes begin to thicken—gutters of red paving way through his pearly sclera until it struck his dark pupils, causing them to dilate uncontrollably with each passing second. His throat began to strain, the air in his passages thinning into non-existence until he could do nothing but splutter and gag on his empty lungs. The warm colour in his lips began to drain into a lifeless shade of blue, matching the veins that rose along his neck and face like prominent ant trails.

And then his strength began to falter.

The guard staggered backwards and fell to his knees, hands flying to grapple at his throat in desperation, as though he could grab ahold of the oxygen currently fleeing every cell of his body and hold it hostage for his exploitation—to continue fuelling his pathetic, abominable existence.

You pushed yourself from the table with your remaining hand, bending over briefly to snatch up your backpack before stringing it over your shoulder. Your other hand was drawn into a fist so tight that your skin began to whiten, almost rivalling the shade of pale that the guard currently wore. And you didn’t relent as you closed in on him, not even when you felt the first trail of blood flee your nostrils, and tasted the acrid, iron tang along the walls of your throat.

The guard glanced up at your approaching figure through bloodshot eyes, his expression a primal fear that only a situation of life or death could coax from you. The veins tracing his entire body became so prominent that they could’ve exploded with a single flick of your finger—and you were tempted.

You came to a stop directly before his pathetic form, not bothering to stoop to his level as you spoke. “Hurts, doesn’t it?” You taunted. “Hypoxia—the very oxygen in your body slipping away until all your systems begin to shut down—slowly, in agonising sequence.”

You began to prowl a circle around his dwindling stature for dramatic effect as you pressed on.

“First, your brain’s cells will die, and you’ll become all confused and disoriented until you’re as dumb as a fucking vegetable. Your heart is the next to go, taking everything down with it. And then, your lungs will start to fail, forcing you to breath deeper and deeper with the desperation to latch onto a single breath. . . but no matter how hard you try, I just won’t allow the air back in. It’s excruciating—” you paused as you watched his body begin to rock with violent convulsions, “—but I don’t need to tell you that, do I?”

You circled back to the front of his body, drinking in his frail effort to stay upright through the spasms—desperate to preserve what pitiful sense of pride he still possessed. You tilted your head mockingly, the first trail of blood fleeing your nose to splatter onto your shirt.

“And do you know what the best part is?” You continued scathingly. “There’s not a damn thing you can do about it—not when it comes to me. All you can do is watch. . . and die.”

Foam began to spill at the corners of the guard’s mouth, his eyes so comically red that it felt like an enactment of the rage he currently bore you—and the sentiment pulled through in his furrowed brows and twisted snarl. You could see the disgust in his expression—a look that practically screamed fucking filthy Supe. Rather a Supe than a rabid fucking animal—and he’d been rabid way before this attack.

“Word of advice,” you pushed on—not that he’d live to follow it. “Maybe don’t fuck with the hand that controls the very air you breathe.”

With a single, thorough jerk of your first, you heard the distinct pop of flesh as you tore through the walls of his organs, the tissues deflating into his sure death. Suddenly, all his movements halted, and there was a single, detestable glint in his eyes before they glazed over with a lifeless stare. His hands toppled to his sides, acting as a domino effect that sent his soulless body to the floor with a hard thud.

You glared at his corpse for a few seconds, the fist you’d held onto finally releasing to reveal leaking, red crescents carved into your palm’s flesh. Trails of blood streamed from your nose and into the hard line your lips had pressed into. You swept your tongue along the flesh to clear it away, swallowing back the thick clotting in your throat. You lifted your aching fist to wipe away the blood trickling from your nose, your lips falling loose to exhale softly.

It’d been years since you’d channelled your abilities, and to such an extreme extent, no less. You felt the way your body trembled, your own breath falling slightly short with the beginning of fatigue, but exhilaration kept your jittery legs firmly rooted. It felt good to tear through that wretched man—and you knew that it shouldn’t have, but it did. It felt. . . powerful.

In all the years you’d been trapped here, you’d had anything but power. Every aspect of your life had been controlled by the Russians, and you’d had no choice other than to be swept along with their will. Your gaze dragged back to the guard’s corpse.

But not anymore, you affirmed silently. Not anymore.

With a single, disdainful sniff, you stepped over the guard’s lifeless body, leaving his shredded flesh to drown within the puddle he’d bled.

You made for the room’s exit, and behind you, the pot of brewed coffee let out a shrill whistle.

ミ☬彡

In the holding room, you were leaned against the tank that currently hosted Ben’s sleeping form. The steel was warm against your back as it whirred with all the mechanisms trapping him in a steady sleep, and you had to shift a couple of times to prevent the burning of your skin. The heat soothed your goosebumps, but did little to settle the nagging anxiety within.

An hour had passed. More like twenty rough minutes—but it had felt like ages since you’d left that guard’s body in the common room and made a hasty beeline for this hold. It was already moon-high—most of the employees would have long since called it a day and gone home. So the chances of the guard’s body being discovered at this time were low—you knew this. Yet you kept waiting for that door to come toppling down, armed forces streaming in to beat you onto your knees and make you a live experiment alongside Ben. If you’d survive their outrage to begin with.

Besides you, the only other souls currently roaming the property were all banished to the outskirts, doing perimeter checks and walking tedious lines to ensure nobody would be getting in—or out of this compound. No employee had the reason or desire to stay in the building past closing time, so there was no need for the guards to do a last sweep within before setting up the nighttime perimeter.

Fatal flaw, in your humble, biased opinion.

But your eyes had been glued to that entrance for so long that you could still see the door carved into the darkness behind your lids every time you blinked. Your arms were crossed against your chest as you waited, as if to cradle the unsteady heartbeat in your chest, while your index finger ticked away busily at your bicep.

Shortly after arriving here, you’d taken a second to tend to and bandage the hand you’d unintentionally bled raw during your fit. Your palm still ached with the memory of your furious grip, but you tightened your hold on your arm in the desperate attempt to numb the area into painless submission. It didn’t budge.

Eventually, you found it in yourself to tear your gaze away from the door, your head buckling to take in the view of the floor. You caught a glimpse of the blood stain in your shirt. Almost as if that had reminded your body to pay you the repercussions for overexerting your abilities, you felt a light trial of blood trickle from your nose. Your bandaged hand flew up to catch the red droplets, and you held your fist against your nostrils for a few seconds to absorb the rest of the clot.

You gave a hard exhale through your lips, your patience wearing thin with both your weakened body and the anticipative wait. You dropped your hand back to your side, still feeling the faint, sticky glaze of blood within your nostrils. But you ignored it, almost hoping your body would grow bored with punishing you and ease off for a while—just until The Boys broke you and Ben out of here.

You had no idea when they would arrive. The initial phone call that had started this entire ordeal hadn’t exactly been detailed—it was more of a quick in and out—instructions first, questions later call. And oh, the ambiguity of the plan drove you insane.

On the other side of the room, you heard the scrabble of Jamie’s nails against his glass enclosure. That wretched hamster had seen better days. You figured he was the sort of pet Ben could get along with—if their shared trauma of being experimented on was reason enough to bond.

Suddenly, a heavy clank sounded against the door of the main entrance, which instantly plucked you from your thoughts and had you drawn into a defensive position before you could process the entire situation. Another loud clunk rattled the steel, then another. It sounded like the adrenaline currently pumping your heart to an all time high.

Whoever was behind that door didn’t sound passive. Your paranoia got the best of you as you imagined Russians guards waiting to storm the room. Had somebody found the guard’s murdered body and alerted the nighttime patrol? You knew you should have done a last sweep of the compound before hightailing it toward the hold—perhaps you’d missed an employee, and now you’d have to pay for leaving a loose end uncut.

The door finally relented with one last thud, and it gave a low, trembling creak as it slowly descended to the floor—the scene so cinematically dramatic. It landed with a deafening clunk, a dust cloud exploding to conceal the doorway. You waited tensely, expecting to see the Russians stream through with defences ablaze at any second.

So, this is it, you ridiculed silently. This is how I go out. A bitter smile spread your lips. What had all these years—all the suffering been for, if not to pave way for a happy ending? Did you and Ben not deserve it, after everything?

Tsk. Fate, thou art a heartless bitch.

But the first man to step through the haze was tall and heavyset with dark, messy hair and a thick beard—but most importantly, lacking a guard’s uniform entirely. The sight laid your internal monologue to rest. You wouldn’t be dying today.

The newcomer narrowed his eyes and did a scan of the room. When they landed on you, a devilish smirk hitched up the corner of his mouth.

“Well,” he called out in a thick, English accent—the same one that had driven you crazy through the digital line. He took a dramatic step past the collapsed door, his shoulders rocking side to side before stilling to face you. “‘Ello there, Love. Fancy finally meetin’ yer in the flesh.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you spat out, all the breath you’d been hoarding in anticipation channeled into that single sentence. “Ever heard of a fucking knock?” Your tone was hostile, but your hands fell to your side with relief, your heart rate beginning to settle into a steadier rhythm.

The dark-haired man glanced around him with calculation—likely scanning for any hidden traps or accomplices, then popped a glance to where the door laid needlessly discarded onto the floor. He turned back to you with a done deal grin, hands spreading in an innocent gesture.

“Sorry ‘bout tha’, Love,” he chuckled, that charming smirk becoming far too comfortable on his rough features. “But it do make for one diabolical entrance, done it? And The Boys don’t deserve nuffin’ less.”

As if that did the trick in summoning the rest of the group, more figures slunk through the door to take up formation behind the Brit—a dark-skinned man with distrust woven into his features as he glared you down, a tall, scrawny, kid that looked as jittery as a hostage, an Asian girl that glanced about the room with interest, and a fair-skinned man with what looked like a mullet in bad taste.

The Brit tossed a nod in your direction. “We haven’t formally met. Name’s Butcher,” he said, strolling further into the room to make better acquaintance.

You trailed closer to meet him halfway, coming to stand perfectly in front of Ben’s sleeping tank—as if to shield his helpless form from any potential danger. You were met with the Brit’s outstretched hand, and you glanced down at it with a brief narrowing of your eyes before your attention flickered back up to him.

“It don’t bite, Love—promise,” he jabbed.

You flashed him a wry smile, but you were still hesitant as you slipped your bandaged palm into his. He held you firmly to deliver a polite shake, and you were ready to slink away from his hold when he trapped you in his grasp with a curious study of your palm.

“Blimey, did yer give a knife a good ol’ wank?” He huffed.

With a light scoff, you curbed his prying nose and offered him your name, to which the Brit grinned in a manner that felt forced.

“Lovely name yer’ve got there.” He released your hand and pivoted on his heels to address the rest of the group. “Right, you lot, we don’t got a lotta time. Them red cunts out there know we’re in ‘ere, and they’re gonna come lookin’ for us with ten rounds o’ fuck yer stuck up them fuckin’ guns. So keep yer wits about yer, and keep off each other’s throats, all righ’?”

Your attention drifted to where the Asian girl turned to Butcher, her hands lifting to portray a series of symbols that you could recognise as sign language, but the words were lost on your uneducated eyes. The fair-skinned man beside her turned to face her.

“Don’t worry, Mon Coeur, we can handle them,” he reassured her—a distinct, smooth slur to his words.

French, you noted with a hint of surprise. What an interesting group of people.

“Uh, guys,” the scrawny boy spoke up. You caught a hint of alarm on his features before he turned away to face the door. “I think more guards are on their way.” You strained your ears and heard the faint commotion of Russian phrases and thudding boots in the distance.

“Great,” the dark-skinned man commented sarcastically, head swinging over to face the French. “Ya just had to go and say that, didn’t ya, Frenchie? Should’ve touched wood, man—now we’ve got the whole fuckin’ armed guard about to come down on our asses.”

Who the fuck came up with the name Frenchie? You thought with a scoff. If it was a given nickname within the group, there was a severe lack of creativity amongst their ranks.

Frenchie looked confronted at the man’s attack. “I didn’t do anything! Blame Butcher for frying le whole fucking grid and sending his fist directly into the guard’s face!”

“Oi!” Butcher interjected, taking a step toward the bickering men. “I didn’t see yer lift yer bloody finger to help, now, did’cha? And it don’t matter now. So lay off the fuckin’ tiff, boaf o’ ya, and brave yer bollocks f’a righ’ burnin’.”

You couldn’t help but smirk lightly at the group’s dynamic. One thing was certain—with them, there was never a dull moment.

You could hardly acknowledge that thought for a second longer before armed guards were rallied at the door, causing The Boys to pivot toward the entrance in alarm. Gun were pointed into the room before bullets began flying in scattered chaos.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell! Take cover!” Butcher yelled, and The Boys all scattered to various ends of the room to avoid the rapid fire.

You attempted to do the same, when time seemed to slow at the prospect of a bullet heading directly for you. Your breath roared in your ears, muffling all the sounds around you into a single, shrill ring as you lifted your hand into the air out of instinct. With a single twist of your fingers, the bullet making a direct line for your face curved through the air, and it deviated from its path to strike glass some ways behind you.

You let slip a relieved, breathless chuckle, but didn’t waste another second as an easy target out in the open as you scampered to hide behind Ben’s sleeping tank. You pressed your back against the tank, your head collapsing against the metal with a wide grin.

You hadn’t pulled off that trick for quite some time—and it was bold to assume that it would’ve worked when your body was severely out of practice. Guess the Supe in you never leaves, does it? You remarked with silent appreciation.

But still, you cursed your unpreparedness. For all the things you’d remembered to pack, a gun had somehow slipped your mind entirely. Having powers was good and all, but the ability to withstand gunfire was beyond your biological pay grade, and without your long lost Supe uniform, you were as vulnerable as any other human in this room.

Something small levitated into the air ahead of you, drawing your attention into a bewildered stare. Jamie, the hamster, gravitated through the air, whisking directly past you and into the chaotic storm of bullets. You had a good guess of where the bullet you’d redirected had gone.

“It fucking flies?” You scoffed in amazement.

You heard a guttural scream followed by a string of Russian pleas, and you guessed that the hamster had his own personal vendetta to fulfil. That makes two of us.

You heard The Boys calling to one another as they came to terms with their depleted bullets, but the Russians were still keenly at it, the shots bounding off the walls of the room until it sounded like a drawn out melody of war and sure death. You risked a glance past the tank, outstretching your hand to drain the lungs of one of the Russians raining hell on where Butcher and the scrawny kid took cover.

The Russian seized on the spot, hand flying to clutch his chest before he collapsed to the ground and didn’t stir again. Butcher caught that stunt with an impressed glint to his eye, his chin dipping in the slightest gesture of approval. You returned it with a smug grin, but what came next whisked the amusement clean from your lips.

The Brit discarded his emptied gun, stepping into the clearing with a loud-ringing “evenin’, cunts,” and then you witnessed his eyes ignite with a red, bustling flame. He strolled into the open fire, the bullets bounding off his skin like they’d never stood a chance in the first place. And then you saw it—beams of molten lava searing through the air to decapitate any and all matter in its destructive path.

The Brit’s head panned around the room to exterminate the Russians one by one, until nothing but silence filled the room, and the unpleasant scent of scorched flesh bombarded your nose. You slowly rose to full height, stepping out into the clearing just in time to witness Butcher’s red eyes simmer into their normal dark shade. He glanced about his companions in waiting—for what, you had no concrete idea, but you could guess that the rest of the Boys were as shocked as you.

You glanced around at the rest of their faces to gauge the group’s reaction. The scrawny boy appeared behind Butcher with a look of amazement and admiration bright on his features—stupid fool would likely get himself killed gawking after that reckless Brit. You glanced over at the dark-skinned man, who looked furious as he glared down the leader of The Boys. Frenchie, and the Asian girl attached at his hip, exchanged puzzled glances that quickly turned curious once they glanced between Butcher and the dark-skinned man.

There was definitely some unspoken tension lingering between those two men—some ongoing war for leadership. But before either of them had a chance to speak, the scrawny boy let out a yell.

“M.M.—behind you!”

The dark-skinned man spun around, and your attention flitted to where a Russian guard had snuck up onto him with his gun armed and ready for attack.

He’s not going to make it, you thought with a jolt. Instinctually, your hand whisked into the air, and a second later, the guard staggered in place to paw at his chest—some pathetic attempt to remove his gear and undo his gradual smothering. But before you could sign off on the murder, the scrawny boy appeared behind the Russian with his fist impaled through the guard’s chest.

You had to blink twice to solidify that scene—the boy was naked, and he’d been on the other end of the room, fully clothed, only a second ago.

“What in the fuck is going on?” You muttered, hand falling back to your side. The Russian guard, now void of a heart, mimicked the gesture as he planted onto the floor, his gun clattering to the ground beside him. You squinted at the naked boy—first Butcher, and now him. Just what crackhead group of Supes had you gotten tied up with?

The scrawny boy glanced down at his bloodied hand in a fit of ragged breaths, his expression a mixture of confusion and amazement, as if he couldn’t believe he’d just done that. You wondered whether his reaction was toward his power, or the murder—though he didn’t seem like the type that went around killing often, or at all, and he sure as hell didn’t look like somebody who enjoyed it.

“Jesus!” The man—M.M.—breathed out, hand lifting to cradle his head in denial, acceptance, and then defeat. “I can’t—I just can’t,” he muttered, turning away from the scene to take a heated second for himself.

You left the tank’s side to approach Butcher, and the Brit spun to face you with a smirk—always that damn smirk.

“Well, tha’s a nifty li’l power yer’ve got there, innit?” He praised in something akin to admiration.

You couldn’t return the sentiment. “You’re a Supe?” You exclaimed. “You didn’t think to mention that when we first spoke?”

The Brit beamed with some emotion beyond you. “Tha’s the best part, Love,” he said, head tilting in exhilaration. “I ain’t no bleedin’ Supe. I’ve had me a good hit of Temp V, is all—it gives me the wankin’ wonders o’ Supe powers without all the stinkin’ cameras and promos stuck up me arse.”

“Yeah,” M.M. spoke up in a tone lacking amusement, turning to face the group once he’d blown off enough steam—but honestly, he only looked more peeved. “And it’s only killing you, ya stupid motherfucker.”

Butcher flashed him an unfazed glance. “Well, we’re all slowly dying, ain’t we, M.M.?”

The dark-skinned man crossed his arms in what looked like disappointment. “Yeah, but you just had to go and take the fuckin’ crown on that one, didn’t ya? Goddammnit, Butcher, I can’t with you.”

“Then don’t, mate, ain’t yer concern,” the Brit replied simply, then turned his attention to the scrawny boy with a proud grin. “Nice one, Hughie—laid one on tha’ wanker in a heartbeat.” His head lowered to where the guard’s heart lay on the ground, and he beamed a little too hard at his pun.

Hughie seemed flustered at the compliment, but cleared his throat self-consciously when M.M. flashed him a glare.

“Put some damn clothes on,” the dark-skinned man scoffed. “I don’t needa see any more ass today.”

Frenchie crept up behind Hughie holding the outfit the boy had discarded in the wake of his teleportation. “Here, Petit Hughie,” he said through an amused grin.

“Ah, thanks, Frenchie,” he chuckled awkwardly before accepting the uniform and turning away to become decent.

Turning to face you, Butcher gave a nod. “Right, then, why don’tcha show us the way, Love? We’ll get yer nuclear heartthrob outta this place in no time.”

You harboured an eye roll before beckoning curtly over your shoulder. “He’s in there.” You stepped aside to give the Brit a full view of the sleeping tank.

Butcher’s expression turned solemn as he brushed past you to inspect the container. “What the fuck,” he drawled. “They’ve got ‘im wrapped up tighter than a priest’s chaste cock.” Your brows furrowed at his acquired taste for humour—but in that way, he and Ben were quite alike. “How do we open this fuckin’ thing?” He asked distractedly, moving around the frame to inspect the reinforced locks.

“Good question,” you told him, watching him from the same position as you crossed your arms in frustration. “If I had any idea, you wouldn’t be here. They’ve got that tank reinforced like hell—I’ve tried everything to get it open. It’s useless.”

The Brit tossed you an incoherent glance over his shoulder, then tuned his focus back to the tank. “Well, let us have a go, then.”

You cocked your head in smug doubt, watching as the Brit wrapped his large palms around the rim of the tank’s door. Who does he think he is? You scorned silently. He released a loud growl, the muscles of his upper body flexing with strained effort. He kept up the exertion for a good few seconds, and you left out a light huff through your nostrils to confirm what you’d known all along—there was no way that he was getting that door open with his two bare hands.

Almost as though Butcher could heed your thoughts, he amped up his efforts with a growing yell, and to your amazement, the door began to budge with a heavy creak. You watched with subtle awe as the Brit managed to successfully detach the door, his study frame collapsing back slightly as he hovered the metal in his grasp. It was insane to think that his abilities were all thanks to that Temp V substance, but you could only imaging the tolling effects that it had on his body. Hell, you’d been receiving V since you were born, and even you had moments where your body became worn by your abilities.

Butcher turned with the door, scanning an area to discard it toward before he settled for a corner that was far too close to the Asian girl’s loitering figure. When the door landed with a dull thud, the Brit turned to face the tank—you all did.

You took a few steps closer, coming to stand beside Butcher as you watched smoke pour out the hold and cascade around your feet. The Brit outstretched his hand to keep you back, which made you glance at him with a mixture of confusion and surprise.

“He’s not dangerous,” you told him, but you were quick to catch yourself with a frown when you remembered all the instances Ben had woken up in a confused state—and the time he’d hurt you because of it.

“Yeah? Well, tell that to yer face,” Butcher answered gruffly, wholly unconvinced by your faltering advocation.

You bit on your tongue and nudged the Brit’s hand away, but nonetheless, you didn’t move any closer. Butcher flashed you a sidelong glance but didn’t say anything further. You noted how Frenchie and the girl had inched their way nearer to where you stood, just as eager to witness the man that had been an expired legend up until now.

When the smoke started to clear, you could make out the outline of Ben’s figure, stood upright and strapped to a contraption that would hold him in place during his coma. His eyes were still closed, an oxygen mask strapped around his face. Your heart ached at the sight—it was demeaning, him tied down against his will, completely bare and stashed away in some dusty basement to be forgotten until he was needed again.

Never again.

Just then, Ben began to stir, his eyes opening slowly as he drifted back into the waiting world. The arms at his sides flexed with what strength he could muster, and it was still enough to tear through the fabricated restraints around his wrists. His eyes blinked many times as he stared ahead into the newfound opening, but not at anything, or anyone, in particular. He lifted a jittery hand to pry the mask from his face, his hand lowering to his side and dropping it into the smoky oblivion below.

Beside you, you heard a disbelieved murmur leave Butcher’s lips. “Soldier Boy. . .” He breathed.

As if that was all the beckon he needed, Ben’s hands gripped at the rim of his tank, nose scrunched and teeth gritted as he tried to haul together the effort to pull himself from his personal prison.

You instantly dove forward to help him, but Butcher’s arm found yours in restraint once more, pushing you a step back as he turned to face you.

“Stay back, Love. He’s got a fuck-sight o’ that nasty gas pumpin’ through ‘is veins. I mean, have a shufti o’ tha’ cunt—he don’t even know where the ‘ell he is. Yer don’t wanna piss about a timebomb like tha’, trust me.”

“He’s not a bomb,” you answered in frustration. “He’s just confused. You’d be the exact same if somebody fucked with your brain the way these comas fuck with his.”

“I ain’t baggin’ on yer boy, Love, just tryna prevent unnecessary casualties. Don’t need yer blood on me hands.”

Before you could reply, Ben’s frail voice called out your name.

Your heart lurched at the sound, your head swivelling to neglect Butcher and the anger he was starting to evoke. Your boyfriend was leaned halfway out of the tank now, his brows still kneaded together with disorientation as he battled to keep his attention pinpointed on you. You pushed past Butcher’s arm and rushed to catch Ben as he staggered out of the tank, his one hand finding your shoulder for support while his other reached back to steady himself against the metal.

“You’re okay,” you murmured, hands coming up to gently frame his bearded jaw as your lips spread with a smile of relief. He remembered you—no temporary amnesia this time, no forgotten memories, no further pain to endure. “I’m right here, Ben.”

The Supe blinked rapidly, his chin lifting a fraction as his red and teary eyes did a hasty sweep of the surrounding members of The Boys. You called his attention back to you, stroking a thumb along his cheek.

“Hey, don’t worry about them. It’s the group we talked about. . . The Boys. They got you out of that tank, and we’re about to get the hell out of this place,” you comforted him softly.

Ben’s eyes found yours again, but they were glossed over and narrowed, as though your words were incomprehensible to him. His attention dropped to the bloodstain on your shirt, then shifted to the bloodied bandage wrapped around the palm that cradled his cheek.

The hand he’d placed against the tank moved to cover your bandaged palm, and you felt the way he trembled against you. “You’re. . . bleeding,” he pushed out between staggered breaths.

You gave him a weak smile. “I’m fine,” you assured him. “Trust me, you look worse than me, so worry about yourself, first.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but then his eyes screwed shut and his teeth grit around a muffled grunt, the hands he’d placed on you flying to clutch at his chest.

You held his buckling head firmly between your hands, craning yourself in an attempt to get a view of his face. “Ben?” You called to him worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

There was no reply, only pained grunting as he continued to claw at his chest. When your eyes lowered to his torso, you were horrified to find that his flesh had begun to illuminate from within. Slowly, an orange light began to bloom at the centre, painting every organ, vein and artery in clear, dark definition against his translucent skin. You felt a surge of heat begin to radiate from him, enough to burn your arms into releasing his face and assault your eyes into a tight squint.

“Ben, what the hell is going on?” You called in panic, arm coming up to shield your teary eyes.

The Supe grunted in pain, his palm moving clumsily to shove you back at the chest. You staggered back a step, nearly losing your footing until you felt a large hand steady you at the back.

Butcher appeared over your shoulder. “Blimey, tha’ cunt’s ‘bout to blow,” he remarked roughly.

“What?” You replied with a quiver in your voice. You dropped your arm and blinked rapidly to focus your burning eyes back onto Ben. You spotted him struggling away from the tank—away from you—travelling a blind line that drew all the way to a wide-eyed Frenchie.

The French stood backed into a corner, gun slowly raising to act as a pitiful means of defence against the Supe’s disconcerting approach.

“Easy now,” Frenchie attempted to calm Ben, opting to lay off the threatening gun as his hands lifted in surrender. “We are all friends, no?” He laughed nervously, eyes flickering past the Supe to fix you with a pleading expression.

You returned Frenchie’s look with helpless panic. Quite frankly, you had no idea what was going through Ben’s mind as of now, or just what on earth was brewing inside his chest, but you had a gnawing feeling that somebody in this room might not live to find out.

You made the move to approach your boyfriend, eager to stop Ben and disprove that nagging voice in your head, but Butcher found your wrist in a tight, relentless grasp this time around—and it only continued to tighten as a show that he didn’t intend to let you go this time.

“No fuckin’ way,” he said before you had a chance to protest. “If yer boy over there pulls the plug on ‘is night lamp of a chest, boaf you and Frenchie will get yerselves killed. If Soldier Boy lives to see another miserable day, I’ll be needing yer to help us figure out just what the hell them Russian cunts put in ‘im.”

You gave Butcher a long stare, your chest nagged by some feeling that seemed to resonate with the Brit’s words. You knew exactly what had been pumped into Ben. And with that knowledge, you might be able to figure out this new power of his and help The Boys keep him under control. But was the Brit really willing to let Frenchie die for the sake of it?

Turning back to the scene, you watched as Ben’s head buckled again, pained shouts leaving his lips as he fought to control the ever-growing light within. At some point, he began to beam so bright that you couldn’t stare at him any longer without feeling as though your vision would terminate on the spot, so you turned your head away.

And then you heard it—Frenchie letting out a yell, and a loud explosion that sent something flying into a wall. Hesitantly, your eyes drifted open, where you witnessed Butcher’s hands pressed against his ears with a twisted expression. Behind him, Hughie and M.M. did the same, their faces mortified.

Your breathing came out ragged—loud and harsh in your ears as they adjusted to the normal air after what sounded like a deafening, sonic boom. Turning your head slowly, you saw Ben hunched in on himself, his body returned to its normal colour—void of all deathly glow. You wanted to feel a surge of relief, knowing that he was okay, but then your eyes drifted ahead of him to where a figure lay motionless upon the ground.

The Asian girl was sprawled across the floor, blood seeping from wounds along her torso, so dire that you could make out the cuts even from where you stood. The stone wall just behind her was cracked with what must’ve been the impact of her hurled body, and the sight brewed fresh dread in your heart.

No, you breathed silently, your eyes growing hot with horror. Suddenly, the words you’d told Butcher only moments ago came around again, a voice that taunted you into guilt. He’s not a bomb. He’s not a bomb.

And yet he’d just blown up and injured—possibly killed—one of the group members—people who had risked quite a lot to save the both of you. Your hand came up to cover your mouth in a state of shock and remorse, and for a moment, you couldn’t do anything but stand in a fit of paralysis.

Frenchie scrambled up from the other end of the floor and sped over to collapse at the girl’s body, hands frantically searching her neck for a pulse. He settled on a point and hovered his fingers there for many seconds, and you held your breath in anticipation as you waited for him to confirm her life, or death.

To your relief, he let out a jittery sigh. “She lives!” He declared into the room. “Mon Coeur,” he called more softly, a hand moving to turn her face toward his, but her lids remained heavily clamped, and even her lower lip dropped open in her unconscious state.

“Bloody ‘ell,” Butcher breathed from behind you, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just witnessed.

You hurried over to where Ben still stood, crouched over and consumed in a haze of overwhelming emotions that you couldn’t possibly begin to comprehend. You slowed a little ways before him, your hand cautious as you reached to gently cup his back. You were unsure at this point of what potential triggers may set him off.

When you made with the skin of his back, he gave a slight flinch, but he turned his head a fraction to drink in who’d touched him. When he saw it was you, his face briefly softened with a quiet regret that made your heart ache—an almost unspoken apology for the mess he’d made. You took up a firmer grip on his back, urging him to move toward the wall for better support against his weakness.

“Come on, just take a moment,” you urged, and he relaxed into your gentle guidance as you moved the both of you toward the wall. You tried your best not to glance at the girl’s unconscious body, but Ben wasn’t so merciful in sparing himself the guilt as he risked a glance toward her body. and holding her motionless body in his view all the way until you’d reached the wall.

“You can’t blame yourself for that,” you told him in an almost whisper. Because it’s my fault. I gave you those powers when I gave you your last dose. You wanted to tell him that, but you choked up on the guilt, and it would do little to comfort what had already happened. So instead, you settled for, “you had no control over it. The important thing is that the girl’s alive, okay? You didn’t kill her.”

You didn’t know that for certain. So much could happen between now and the trip to the hospital. Ben spared you a dark glance that reflected your thoughts.

You reached to cup his cheek, but he turned away from you to face the wall, his hands coming up to steady himself against the stone. Your hand fell back to your side as you let out a soft exhale.

“I’m going to figure out what’s going on with you,” you told him. “But just stay here for now, I need to talk to Butcher and the others, okay?” You weren’t entirely sure that you had Ben’s ear, but he was too stunned to go anywhere for the time-being, so you felt confident enough to leave him alone to talk to the others.

“Not a bomb, eh?” The Brit scoffed on e you reached him. “Well, Love, it don’t sound like yer know yer man as well as yer think ya do, d’ya?”

“Give me a break,” you retorted, coming to a complete stop in front of the dark-haired man. “This. . . power of his isn’t anything I’ve seen before. If I knew he could do that, I would’ve told you, and we could’ve found a way to keep the lid on and prevent anybody from getting hurt.”

“What, like he wasn’t already a murderer before this very instance?” M.M. spoke up from where he stood, idling beside a bewildered Hughie.

You flashed the dark-skinned man a glare. “He didn’t mean to do it,” you said more firmly.

M.M. had this biting fire to his eyes, his upper lip twitching with a barely perceptible emotion. “Didn’t mean to do what, exactly?” He drilled. “Kill all those innocent people back in the day, or almost killing an innocent girl right now?”

“M.M.,” Butcher called to his friend, a light undertone of warning. “Don’t, mate.”

M.M.’s head swivelled toward the Brit. “Don’t you give me that fuckin’ ‘mate’ shit, Butcher. I wanna hear it from her—I wanna know if she’s really okay with all the shit that that motherfucker has done!” He turned to glare at you, causing your heart to lurch. Clearly, he had some hefty history behind his anger.

“We don’t got time for this,” Butcher attempted to interject, but M.M. stopped acknowledging the Brit, his tense shoulders rising and falling around some greater restraint on his part as he glared between you and Ben.

Your lips were hellbent on a clueless silence. You didn’t know what personal wrongs Ben had dealt M.M., but you knew that your boyfriend had a stained past. Truth is, you had no way to ever justify what Ben had done back in the day. And judging by how deep M.M.’s dislike and distrust for him ran, you figured that the Supe must’ve done something unforgivable.

Ben was far from perfect, you knew that. He had questionable morales, some that you’d never learnt to swallow even after all these years you’d been together. But you’d been trying to help him abandon those problematic viewpoints, and he’d been getting there slowly before Vought and the rest of Payback had gotten him kidnapped and slipped into a tank.

“Nothin’ to say, huh?” M.M. mocked lowly, his lips twitching with disgust. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Ya can’t justify a prick like that.”

“Hey, guys. . .” the naked boy—Hughie—spoke up, his anxious stare shifting between M.M., Butcher and you. “I hate to interrupt. . . whatever this is, but we’ve got to get out of here. What if more guards show up?” It was beyond you how somebody as scrawny and young-looking as him had met the criteria of such a raggedy tag group of misfits lead by the world’s number one British asshole, but he was right to be worried.

In the distance, you heard the thin, angry shouts. You didn’t want to stick around long enough to hear what they were saying.

You glanced over your shoulder to where Frenchie still hovered over the injured girl, her body half scorched and basted in the blood trickling from her abdomen. Your heart ached at the sight, and then your gaze slipped over to where Ben braced himself against the wall in a heaving mess of disorientation.

Oh, things were so fucked.

“She needs a hospital,” the French slurred, hands frantically whisking across the girl’s body. His eyes were a desperate plea as they fixated Butcher, then his head collapsed to where he took the girl’s unconscious head into his hands. “Hang in there, Mon Coeur, we will not let you die, you hear me?”

You turned back to Butcher. He was the head of this entire operation, so you waited tensely for him to hurl out some sort of command, a plan of action—anything. The commotion surrounding the room grew louder, which made the Brit glance at the entrance they’d barged through.

“We gotta get the fuck outta ‘ere,” Butcher grumbled. He jerked his chin at the Hughie. “Hughie, help Frenchie with Kimiko, we ain’t stayin’ ‘round ‘ere any longer than we got to. I don’t much fancy playin’ a round o’ Russian Roulette with those trigger-happy red cunts—and right now, they got a ragin’ boner for the lot o’ us.”

Hughie scampered past to heed Butcher’s orders, but not without risking you an uneasy glance. He disappeared from your view as he slipped past you to conspire with Frenchie in getting Kimiko to the car.

“You two, back o’ the van,” the Brit told you, calling your attention back to him. The furrow of his frown ran deep as he took a step closer to glare you down. “And yer best keep America’s Ancient Arsehole from gettin’ all hot and bothered in me ride, or we’re all as good as fucked, ‘ear that?”

Before you had the chance to return Butcher’s scorn, you were interrupted by a protest that sounded most displeased.

“Uh uh,” M.M.’s voice rang out clearly, causing both yourself and Butcher to turn to him. He loomed tensely, eyes darkened and features modelling a look of heartfelt disgust as he glanced between you and Ben. “No way in hell—I ain’t climbin’ into the same car as that motherfucker,” he declared with an accusing index figure in Ben’s direction, his hard stare further isolating your boyfriend before he turned his attention back to Butcher. “They gotta find their own way—meet us somewhere we can recoup and plan out this fuckin’ stinkin’ pile of shit you got us into, Butcher.”

“M.M.,” Butcher groused, taking a step toward his companion. “We don’t got time for this, mate. We came ‘ere to do a job, and we gotta do it quick. Yer don’t gotta hold ‘ands wif the cunt, yer just gotta brave face until we get clear o’ this shitshow, all righ’?”

But M.M. looked unconvinced, the distrust in his stare not once relenting as he did another sweep of you and Ben. His chin lifted slowly—a bold notion of defiance as he glared Butcher down.

“Nah,” he said lowly, arms brought forward to cross over his chest. “Not happenin’, Butcher.”

“Oh, f’fuck’s sakes,” the Brit grumbled, hand brought up to his jaw to stroke across his beard with exasperation as he attempted to negotiate with his companion.

Just by observing the dynamic between the two of them, you could tell that they bickered like this far too often. Two alpha males, constantly clashing horns as they fought to uphold their own glaring sense of right and wrong. But there was no time to stand back and bathe in the ricocheting argument, so you intercepted their bickering with a hint of impatience.

“It’s all right,” you steadied with outstretched hands, which made both Butcher and M.M turned to look at you. “I’ll find Ben and I another way out. I know a route, and I know where to get a ride. You just focus on getting the girl to the hospital, and we’ll lay low somewhere until you tell us the next move.”

Without waiting for input from the two of them, you turned and scampered off to the bag you’d left at the foot of Ben’s tank. You passed a glance at Ben, who still stood leant against the wall, head hanging low in oblivion. You doubted he’d caught a fraction of the ongoing conversation.

“Like ‘ell yer are,” Butcher called to you. “I’d be a daft wanker to let the two o’ ya off me fuckin’ leash, now, wouldn’t I?”

“Seems right on par with the asshole of the year award you’ve made runner up for,” you mumbled under your breath before reaching the bag and bending down to unzip it. “Listen, it’s not like we’ve got many options when your friend over there has made his feelings about us clear. I’m just trying to get Ben and I out of here in one piece,” you added more loudly.

“All right,” the Brit reasoned. “Say I let the two o’ ya slip away, hand in hand, how do yer s’pose we find yer again? Trackin’ yer down to this fortified safe already cost us some hefty shite—and it’ll be a li’l difficult keepin’ a lead on yer this time ‘round when yer’ve only disappeared into the whole o’ bleedin’ Russia!”

“Hold that thought,” you called back, hand rummaging through your loaded supply bag. Your fingers clattered against the burner phones you’d packed in case you and Ben got separated, and you pulled one of them out. You weren’t so eager to hand off the only thing serving as a backup should the two of you run into trouble, but you had very little luxury of choice right now.

Turning back to Butcher, you made you way back over to the ruffled Brit, hand outstretched to offer him the phone. “Call the number saved on there, I’ve got another in the bag. Once we’re all in the clear, we’ll meet you wherever it is you need us to be.” The Brit fixed you with a distrustful stare before snatching it from your presented palm.

You’re fucking welcome, you thought irritably. You pivoted on your heels in an attempt to retrieve your backpack and get both yourself and Ben the hell out of here, but Butcher’s hand found your arm in a firm grip before you could manage to slip away.

“Oi!” You were forcibly spun around to face the towering Brit, who torqued his chin at you with far too much attitude for your liking. “How do I know tha’ you and Chernobyl’s li’l arsehole ain’t gonna do a runner into the fuckin’ sunset for good now that we’ve freed the boaf o’ ya? I can’t trust cha.”

Your scowled at his lack of charm, yanking your hand free of his throttling grasp to take a step back. “We may be strangers—and you may be the finest pick of the asshole litter, but we made a deal, and I always honour my word. You can count on that, or you can suckle on paranoia’s tit while we wait for the backup guards to gun us down. Your choice.”

Butcher seemed briefly surprised by your mouth, if his hitched brows was any indication. But he was quick to morph back into his signature frown, lips parting with what could’ve been an attempt to further pick at the scab of distrust. Thankfully, M.M.’s voice interrupted on cue.

“Butcher, we gotta go!” He called, back turning on you both as he raised his gun to assault a Russian guard that had slipped into the doorframe.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, these cunts are relentless,” Butcher muttered in exasperation as he took in the new company. He faced you with a displeased expression, dispelling a defeated sigh before he cocked his head in the slightest gesture that bid your official release.

You gave him a small, curt nod, and without wasting another second, you slipped away to grab your bag and hurried over to where Ben’s figure remained propped against the wall, bare back presented to you in a heaving, sweaty mess.

You reached to place a gentle hand on his shoulder, which caused him to flinch away and spin around in full-blown defence mode, but he quickly relaxed as he drank you in.

“Hey, we’ve got to go,” you cooed gently, reaffirming your hold on his arm as you encouraged him to drape it along your neck. Ben succumbed to your guidance and partially leaned himself onto the side of your frame, and you tried your best to accommodate his large stature by securing your other arm around his waist.

“I got you,” you murmured against his jaw, but you could tell that it was lost to the hurricane of disorientation that currently circled his head and rendered his responses naught. As of now, he was surviving off of nothing but the familiarity of your presence.

Behind you, wind buffeted the back of your neck as Hughie glided past, and then there was the distinct, sharp whisk through the air that indicated he’d teleported to some other corner of the room—judging by the guttural scream that followed shortly after, likely directly into the chest of one of the guards. But you had no time to glance back to confirm that thought, not that you’d much like to see Hughie’s naked form again, anyway.

Together, you and Ben began to hobble through one of the back entrance’s. You entered into the winding corridor, whose overhead lights flickered menacingly. It created an eerie atmosphere that matched the theme of this entire compound, and it fed into the flight instinct that kept your feet moving.

When you’d first made contact with The Boys—about a week ago—you’d begun mapping out the best route possible for the group to infiltrate the facility. As a contingency plan, you’d also noted the route yourself and Ben currently ploughed through, just in case there’d been a kink in the plan. For once, you were thankful for your tendency to overthink.

After what felt like an endless straight line, you turned the corner of the corridor, Ben’s steps faltering with the change in direction. Your balance dipped the slightest bit as you scrambled to steady him in your hold.

“All good?” You checked in.

“Fine,” Ben pushed out with a grunt, his head still lolled over as he tried to focus his attention on the ground. “Keep on movin’.”

You breathed a light okay and kept on the prowl. Up ahead, you spotted a janitorial closet tucked into the corner bordering the designated exit you’d mapped out. You hastily steered him toward the door.

“In there,” you instructed, releasing the hand he had draped along your shoulders to twist the doorknob and push the door open. It gave way with an animated creak, and you hurried the both of you inside, guiding the Supe deeper into the dim, narrow space.

He slipped his hand from your shoulders to grab one of the cluttered shelves for support, and once you were certain he was steady enough to support his faltering frame, you turned to close the door behind you. You stole a quick glance out the small, dusty window centred in the janitorial door, feeling a slither of relief when no armed soldiers seemed to round the corner in pursuit of you.

“What’s. . . the plan?” Ben breathed out from behind you, his voice rough and thin as he fought off the sleepy haze. Usually, he had time to adjust coming out of the coma, but this time around, he’d been woken in such a flurry state of things that he’d barely been given the time to adapt. And it certainly didn’t help that he had a newfound power of blowing up unprovoked. It had taken a lot out of his sleepy state.

You turned to face your boyfriend, whose nude figure was on full display now as he stood facing you, a little taller, bolder—almost the man you knew him to be. You could have marvelled at the chiselled isles of his abs, and the moisture that furnished his skin and accentuated every curve of his muscles with the light’s faint glare, but this was hardly the time or place to indulge your desires.

With great difficulty, you averted your gaze from his figure as your hand moved to glide the backpack’s strap from your shoulder. “First, let’s get you dressed.”

You plopped it onto the floor at the nose of your boots, then bent down to dig into the crowded space in search of the clothes you’d packed for him. You pulled out a pair of grey sweats and an oversized t-shirt that you’d stolen from one of the guard’s lockers. You hadn’t had much luck in finding underwear, and you weren’t about to go around rummaging through lockers and sniffing pairs to deduce whether or not they were clean.

You straightened up and handed Ben the clothing, whose eyes flickered down to the items with a growing alertness—and unveiled judgement.

“The fuck is this?” He asked, hand gesturing to the sweatpants crowning the folded fabric stash. You knew he was making a point to ridicule what passed as fashion in this day and age. It was pretty much his brand to criticise everything and anything that didn’t fit his very limited ideologies, but there was no time to entertain that now.

“It’s the best I could do, is what,” you retorted, palm diving forward with impatience as you urged him to take the clothes. “Talk shit about it later—in fact, have an entire rant, but right now, you’ve got to put these on so that we can get out of here, unless you’d like to keep on running around naked and flashing the whole of Russia.”

Ben’s eyes lowered down his body as you spoke, then lifted back to your face with an entertained air, his eyebrow lifted smugly. “What, you don’t like the view?” He jested. “Cause I gotta say, it’s the real panty-dropper. The ladies—they just can’t get enough o’ all o’ this.”

When you didn’t entertain what he passed as humour with a response, your expression blank save the impatience, he cleared his throat somewhat self-consciously before hesitantly taking the clothes from your grasp.

Pointing his free finger in your direction, he said, “you’re a doll,” and began slipping the clothes onto his body. You lowered yourself back to the bag to retrieve the socks and sneakers you’d also managed to nick before placing it at his feet.

While you waited for him to get modest—physically, at least, you zipped up the bag and strung it back over your shoulder before rising and turning to peer out the window again. There was a gnawing unease still buzzing at your fingertips and teasing at the steady pace of your heartbeat as you stared off into the corridor, just waiting for any sign of movement. While you stood, you couldn’t help but wonder whether The Boys were managing to hold their own back where you’d left them.

Your thoughts flitted to the injured girl—Kimiko; you hoped that they’d managed to escape and get her to the hospital, and there, you desperately wished that she’d live to see another day. Ben’s outburst was something you’d never seen before, even after all the years the Russian’s had trialed him to see what new powers your modified treatments had brought forward.

You knew that the explosion wasn’t personal, that it was an unfortunate case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But you’d seen the look in M.M.‘s eyes—in all of their eyes. There was so much hatred and fear lingering in their stares, and it told you that The boys had come on this job with a preconceived notion about who you and Ben were. So it wouldn’t matter how much convincing you’d have done to try and plead in both your favours; they’d never trust you.

You didn’t much trust them either, that feeling was mutual, you only hoped that it wouldn’t interfere with the conditions that this plan had been tied to. There was still a job to be done before you and Ben could be free—properly free.

Ben’s finger’s curled around your waist, which jerked you from the whirlwind of thoughts you’d gotten sucked into. You turned to face him, fully clothed this time around, and you had to admit that he looked rather attractive in the casual attire.

“How are you feeling?” You asked. He looked alert in the eyes, his movements stronger and more controlled compared to his earlier erraticism.

“I feel fine, no need to fuss over me like I’m some goddamn spineless pussy,” he brushed off dismissively.

You scoffed lightly. “Forgive me for giving a shit,” you muttered, turning away from him to reach for the door handle. “Come on, we’ve gotta go. We’ve already taken longer than I would’ve liked.” You turned the knob and managed to pull the door slightly ajar. “For all we know, they’ve already got more guards set around the per—”

Before you could finish that mildly frantic sentence, Ben’s hand wrapped around your wrist and yanked it from the doorknob. You’d barely managed a protest before he whirled you around to face him and pulled you against his body, his hand only releasing yours to take up firm grip at your jaw. Instinctively, you shrugged the bag from your shoulder and heard it thump to the ground before your own hands came to rest against his broad chest.

With both hands now bracketing your face, he dove down to press a desperate and warm kiss to your lips. At first, the chafe of his overgrown beard felt foreign, but the way his lips eagerly entangled with yours was all the familiarity you needed to melt into his consumption entirely. His large hands stroked down your neck in perfect rhythm, caressing the slopes of your shoulders all the way down your back, and finally, they settled for a firm hold at your hips.

His thumbs hooked over the front of your pelvis as he pushed you against the door you’d been so eager to slip out of only moments ago, and it clicked into it’s place within the frame with an abrupt thud. You release a stifled moan as he pressed you into the wood, and he greedily swallowed it whole, claiming every aspect of your being with this gluttonous kiss.

Your hands dragged up his chest to frame his neck, where you pushed him away to break off the kiss. His lips were plucked from yours with a palpable click, and his features morphed with a disappointed frown as he leaned back to give you air.

Moving his hand to drag two dramatic fingers over his lips, he gazed at you through those charming eyes of his. “I was just gettin’ started with you, sweetheart,” he said lowly.

Chest slightly heaving, your hands lowered to his waist as you gazed up at him. “As much as I’d love to take this further, we can’t stick around here much longer. This part of the facility isn’t used much, but it’s somewhere they’ll come looking once all the other sectors are cleared.”

“You really did have it all planned out, huh?” He murmured sweetly, eyes flickering back down to your lips in a manner that told you he craved another taste of you. But thankfully, he was quite capable of self-restraint when the stakes were too high. He brought his focus back to your eyes with a cheeky wink before he withdrew from your proximity.

“I always did admire that ‘bout you,” he stated before leaning over and swinging his arm forward to scoop up your backpack and lug it over his shoulder. Then, with a nod, he gestured to the door.

“Let’s get a move on, ain’t got all fuckin’ day, right? Besides, I made you a promise back in that lab, and the sooner we can get the fuck outta this ass-fuck of a dungeon, the sooner I can do good on my word.”

You grinned amusedly. “Because you’re old school like that, huh?” You poked.

“Damn right,” he said, hand wrapping around the nape of your neck as he pulled you toward his lowering head. He placed a long kiss against the crown of your head, inhaling your scent in the process.

Your bandaged hand reached up to wrap around the arm that held you against Ben’s adoration, your eyes fluttering close as your body released the tension that had been drawing your every muscle rigid for countless decades.

During all these years at the lab, you were forced to be strong for both yourself and Ben. But you’d never been made to be a warrior—not in any way other than physically, at least. You wanted to be protected, held, cherished like a fragile item that could fracture with the slightest push. In that way, you supposed you were a little old school, too.

Ben had never hesitated to take on that role. To him, it was a dutiful honour—he wanted nothing more than to protect you.

Being trapped in this compound had you stuck in a loop of stress and anxiety, but for the first time, in a very long time, you knew you could breathe a little deeper to relieve that tightness in your chest. You knew you could risk that blink—that shuteye you’d been denying out of fear for your life. Because now that Ben was back, you knew that you were safe.

Gently pulling your head away from his kiss, your hand lingered on his arm as you whispered, “let’s go.”

His lips quirked in the softest smile of agreement, his hand hesitantly falling away from your neck only to take your banadaged hand into a firm, but careful grasp. “Just can’t get enough o’ you,” he chuckled deeply, but you caught the more solemn implications behind those words.

He’d been robbed of your touch for far too long, as much as you’d been of his. Only, he’d had to endure it much harder than you—having constant dreams about all the ways he could devour you during his induced comas. It had been an endless taunt with no assurance that it would ever happen, and now that he was stood here with you in the flesh, he was overcome with the urge to hold onto you, as though he could be ripped of your presence in a blink.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, your fingers tightening in his.

Ben glanced down at your intertwined hands, strands of his hair scattering across his forehead with the motion. It concealed any look that might’ve come across his eyes, but you didn’t miss the soft breath of relief that parted his lips.

He glanced back up at you with practiced composure, taking in a brave sniff as he faced you. “Ah, fuck all this teary-eyed shit. Let’s get the fuck out of here, get a banger meal and then lay one on a shitty motel mattress.”

You gave a small chuckle and released his hand to turn towards the door, where Ben shifted back to accommodate its opening. He held it open for you to slip through, and once you were in the hallway, he appeared behind you with the door clicking shut.

Glancing both ways, you were relieved to be in the clear, and even more relieved to hear that no warning alarms had been set off in the distance. You hoped that meant Butcher and the rest had managed to exterminate the rest of the guards before they had a chance to come down with their final iron fist.

Redirecting your attention to the exit, you beckoned for Ben to follow you through the double doors and out of the back of the compound. You stepped into the crisp night air, the doors swinging closed behind you as Ben appeared at your side, pressed into your arm as he sought out a fraction of your warmth.

“Son o’ a bitch,” he grumbled through chattering teeth, head swivelling about to get a glimpse of the unfamiliar environment.

“Yeah, you haven’t felt real cold in years,” you sympathised with a chuckle, hand slipping into his as you lead him through the empty lot dotted with crates and lorries.

“It’s a fuckin’ maze out here. Do you know where you’re going?” He asked doubtfully.

“Trust me, I know where we’re going.” You lead the way around a corner, where you came face to face with a yard of broken down, discarded vehicles that no longer served a purpose other than reusable parts. “Over there.”

You gestured to a modern, up-kept car nestled between various rusting metal on wheels. You’d stashed the getaway car here a few nights ago, and thankfully it had been one of the easier parts of the plan, given that not many employees wandered all the way out here.

You lead the way toward the vehicle, making a beeline for the driver’s seat. When you reached the car, you turned to Ben with a hand held in the air.

He slowed before you with a confused stare. “What?”

“The keys,” you told him, nodding your chin to the backpack on his shoulder. “They’re in the bag—the side pocket.”

He gave a slow nod of understanding and slipped the bag from his shoulder, plopping it down onto the floor as he bent over to undo the side pocket. A moment later, he pulled out the car keys, which wasn’t much but a remote and a dangling key chain. They clinked against each other loudly as he moved to pick up the bag in his other hand and rose to full height to face you, but he held off on handing you the keys.

“I’ll drive,” he said firmly.

You gave a light laugh. “I appreciate that, Ben, but you don’t know the first thing about the cars of today.”

The Supe looked insulted. “The fuck you on about? It’s a fuckin’ car. It’s got wheels, a throttle and a steerin’ wheel. How hard can it fuckin’ be?” He scoffed and lowered his head to the keys, pausing with a frown of panic before his gaze flitted back over to you. “It doesn’t fly, does it?”

You let out a loud laugh at that, which made Ben’s head loll to the side with a disappointed and slightly flustered stare.

“All right, all right,” he said—all hot and bothered as he glared you down. “So it doesn’t fuckin’ fly. Forgive a man for havin’ hope that the fuckin’ assholes back in our time did good on their promise of a future with flyin’ cars.”

He took a few steps toward the car, arm shooing you aside out of self-conscious spite. “I got this, all right, Princess?”

You faltered a step back as he barged past, your lips parted with the urge to rebound his argument, but you knew that a man like Ben needed to be shown, not told. “Fine,” you said, backing down to let him access the driver’s door uninterrupted. Your hands spread in a dramatic gesture. “Have at it.”

“I will,” he retorted arrogantly, clearing his throat as he lifted the keys to study it. His eyes flickered between the door handle and the keys a few times before flashing you a frustrated glare. “Quit starin’ at me like a braindead potato—I’m figurin’ it out!”

You had to fight to keep a grin from pulling at your lips, your hand coming up in a fist to conceal the lower half of your face. “Mhm,” you hummed into your hand, watching as Ben studied the remote for a few seconds.

The symbols that were supposed to mark which end of the singular button locked and unlocked the car had completely worn off with the years, so you couldn’t blame him for having a hard time with decoding the controls. It was at that point that you expected him to ask for some guidance, though, but the epitome of his masculine pride kept him silent. Eventually, he settled for pressing the bottom most corner, which made the car flash with the locking mechanism.

“Hah,” he breathed proudly, turning to flash you a smug wink. “See? Nothin’ to fuss over. Told ya I’d figure it out.”

“Yeah, you’re a smart one, Ben,” you indulged eagerly, hand falling from your face as you crossed your arms in waiting. “Go ahead, then.”

Ben reached for the handle, not without handing you a suspicious glance, and when he tugged on the door, he was overcome with impatience when he found it still locked.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be ticklin’ my fuckin’ ballsack!” He exclaimed irritably, hand falling away from the handle.

You fixed him with a long, delighted stare that made him shake his head lightly before handing you the keys. “Wipe that grin off your fuckin’ mouth,” he warned.

You took the keys from him and clicked the unlock button. “Or what, Ben?” You asked pointedly, chin lifting to meet his stare boldly.

He chuckled all-knowingly. “You know what,” he husked darkly, eyes glinting with innuendo as he took a step toward you, chin tilted down as he sized you up. “Or I’ll have ya on your knees tonight, pretty lips all stuffed and achin’ ‘round my dick til you can’t even fathom havin’ this attitude of yours.”

Your lower lip fell limp at that, a soft exhale of disbelief leaving your lungs as your head tilted back to hold the weight of his scheming stare. “You’re threatening me with a good time, Soldier Boy?”

Ben’s smirk beamed through that overgrown beard of his at the use of his Supe name. You knew the title on your lips spurred him on in inconceivable ways. “Always a good time til you can’t breathe, isn’t it?” He hummed somewhat condescendingly. “Maybe it’s ‘bout time I give ya a taste of your own fuckin’ medicine.”

Before you had a chance to respond, he moved away to circle around you, then you felt his hand come down on your ass in a light spank. The sound echoed across the desolate, metal graveyard, and you were lurched forward an inch by the momentum.

“What was wrong with fuckin’ keys, anyways?” You heard Ben grumble as he made his way around the car and toward the passenger seat.

You gave an amused huff and shake of your head before opening the driver’s door and sliding inside. Once you were in the seat, you closed the door and were met with Ben not-so-gently tossing the backpack onto the backseat.

“Careful with that,” you told him, placing the keys into one of the compartments before moving to strap yourself in. “There’s a burner phone in there. I told Butcher to call us once they’re in the clear so that we know where to meet them.” You flashed him a quick glance. “Seatbelt,” you added.

Ben obliged and reached for his seatbelt before clicking it in place. “Butcher?” He echoed in confusion. “He the lead asshole of this entire operation?”

“Yeah, asshole and some,” you remarked with a tut.

You moved to press the car’s on button before grabbing ahold of the gear and shifting it into drive mode. Putting the hand break down, you carefully began to manoeuvre the car out of the scrapyard and through the quiet, empty lot.

You heard Ben’s stomach growl just as you neared the the fence-line, which made you glance over at him with sympathy. “We’ll get you something to eat soon,” you promised him.

“And I expect dessert, too,” he added with a sly smirk. You caught on pretty quickly with a smile and slight shake of your head before turning your attention back to the road. “Ain’t gonna lie, seein’ you take control and mannin’ the wheel like this is gettin’ me all hot and excited down there.”

You scoffed as you pulled up to the gates, void of any guards at this instant. They didn’t usually account for this part of the compound, but you were glad that that hadn’t changed within short time of tonight’s breach. You put your foot down on the break, slowing the car to a stop before you glanced at Ben.

“What, you gonna ask me to give you another quick job?”

Ben’s brow cocked expectantly. “You offerin’?”

You held his stare for a moment, if only for dramatic effect, before flicking your head at the gate. “Just get out and open the gate,” you ordered.

His eyes narrowed briefly, lips parting before he drawled a husky, “yes, ma’am.”

You watched as he unbuckled and opened the car door, making his way to the front of the car. He hovered in front of the gate for a few seconds, likely figuring out the latch, before he began rolling the gate back. In no time, he was back in the car and strapped in, and you gave the car some eager gas to push the both of you through and out the gates of hell.

You made a turn onto a long road, which paved way into a whole lot of unknown. You figured that anywhere would be better than this place, so you stepped on the acceleration and sent yourselves fleeing down the tar and toward the luminescent, rounded moon perched on the dark horizon. You couldn’t help but glance up at the rear view mirror, witnessing as the Russian compound gradually grew smaller and smaller with the hasty distance you sought to put between it and you.

“This is it,” you murmured, mostly to yourself, eyes turning back to the road before you. So much relief had been channeled into those very words, but your fingers still gripped the steering wheel with the fear that something would go wrong. It always did. The universe had a way of implying that neither you nor Ben were set up for a happy ending.

A warm hand slid over the hump of your thigh, fingers squeezing gently to offer a sense of comfort and support.

“Hey,” Ben called to you gently. You turned to glance at him, only long enough to catch the soft glint in his eyes before you turned back to the road. “Quit gnawin’ at your lip. We’re freed the fuck outta there. It’s just you and me now, yeah? We got this.”

You smiled weakly at his reassurance, making the conscious decision to ease off the tension in your grip on the steering wheel. “Yeah,” you murmured half-heartedly. There was not much that could convince you now, other than the events of the future itself. But for Ben, you would try your best to hope for only an upward trajectory from here on out.

The buzzing of a cellphone called your attention to the rear view mirror, where you zoned in on the backpack on the backseat. Ben’s head swivelled to glimpse the bag, his hand leaving your thigh to reach for it.

“Leave it,” you told him.

Ben paused and turned to face you with a puzzled glance. “Isn’t it Butcher?” He asked.

“It is,” you told him, eyes fixed on the road. “But that prick can wait. For now, I want you all to myself. We have lost time to make up for, and until we do, screw everybody else.”

You heard the Supe chuckle, the sound of the bag falling back against the seat gracing your ears soon after.

“I like this new you,” he commented, his hand moving to wrap around and rest against the headpiece of your seat. “God, it gets my balls up and runnin’. Wanna have a feel?”

You giggled at Ben’s forwardness, the sound almost foreign on your ears. You hadn’t realised just how much you missed these tiny, absurd moments between the two of you. You hadn’t had much to laugh about in a long time, or anybody to laugh with—life had been cold, dull and lonely. But now, as you drove into the horizon, with the man you so dearly loved at your side, you felt renewed within.

The Boys, the plan, everything. . . they could wait. Right now, nothing other than the two of you mattered.

═════════════════

A/n: I have finally attempted gradient text and y’all are gonna be sick of me for it 😭 this wasn’t supposed to become such a long chapter, but I’ve had such a blast with this idea that I got a little carried away. I really hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. Part 3 will be out soon to conclude their little story! Sorry for the delayed release, it’s been a scramble over here with Christmas preparations + I fell ill a few days ago and have been fighting for my life ever since 🥲 (im just a lil sickly thing). Anyways, thank you all for reading! All likes, comments & reblogs are deeply appreciated ᡣ𐭩

Tags: @gibson-g1rl @fallbhind @bohemianblasphemy @violent-darkness @babyfri3dric3 @cevansbaby-dove @artemys-ackles @nyx-the-alien @smutboba @mochminnie @kamisobsessed @littlewitchgirly @spxideyver @destinys-dreamer @star-yawnznn @weaponxgames

Comment/message me to be added to/removed from the tag list for any future Soldier Boy works!

Other works: The Boys Masterlist

If there are any errors, SORRY. I’ve reread this so many times that I’ve become blind to any mistakes. I’ll fix it. Eventually lol.

[sierrraaaaxz]

Polaroids pt,2

read part one: here

warnings: !NOT PROOFREAD! bestfriend!chris x reader, handjob, sub chris, use of names (baby,babyboy) and idk what else to think of

a/n: i’m sorry if its bad but a couple of you guys wanted a part 2 so you ask and you shall receive. I’m not to sure if i like this one i have mixed feelings but i tried and if anything please tell me if y’all enjoyed it or not😭 i will try to get more into writing though 😁

✧˚ · . A new day came along, you, chris, matt, and nick were all hanging out together at their house.

Just chilling and watching movies as y’all stuffed your mouths with snacks. You were sitting beside chris at the end of the couch, your legs were exposed due to your shorts and so was cleavage, thanks to your tank top.

Chris was having a hard time concentrating on the movie with you right next to him and your body he was absolutely obsessed with in sight. Whole reason you even wore this was for Chris, you desperately wanted a reaction out of him and you noticed it was working.

Time passed by and you noticed how chris kept shifting around under the blanket, you couldn’t help but take a look and see the growing bulge in his pants and his eyes staring at your legs. You stayed quiet, trying to act like you weren’t paying attention to him as your hand slowly made it way under the blanket and to his lap, his gaze went directly towards you, looking at you with a look of confusion and a hint of neediness.

Who were you to deny?

you licked your lips and kept your eyes on the screen as your hand slipped under the waist band of his pants, slowly palming him over his boxers. Soft whines and whimpers slipped from his mouth as he thrusted his hips up slightly into your palm.

Thankfully Matt and Nick couldn’t hear it over how loud the TV was. He shifted closer to you and leaned his head against your shoulder. Quietly begging you for more. “p-please, more, please, i-i’ll be so good, promise..” you chuckled softly under your breath as you heard his little begs and pleads before suddenly slipping your hand under his boxers, your hand coming in contact with his rock hard member that was already leaking pre-cum, you slowly pumped your hand up and down his shaft, trying not to go to fast and get him all noisy. “mmm— thank you— fuck! thank you s-so much..” he whimpered out as he tried his best not to thrust his hips up into your fist.

You looked over at him, watching as he kept his gaze on you while he was whimpering and moaning mess before looking over at Matt and Nick, still focused on the movie. You continued the movements with your hand, moving it faster as you heard his breathing pick up. Chris bit down on his lip, trying to keep himself from being to loud, he definitely didn’t want his brothers knowing what the hell he was doing right now.

You ran your thumb over his slit, receiving a tiny whimper from him. His hips started to thrust up into your fist. “you close babyboy, hm?” you mumbled quietly in that soft, gentle tone he absolutely loved. “y-yes, so close— please let me cum— ngh! please..” the poor boy begged, “go ahead, baby..” you whispered into his ear, and with one more twist of your fist he covered your hand in his warm load of cum.

Panting heavily and resting his head against the crook of your neck now. You slowly removed your hand from his boxers, wiping your hand off with his shirt hoping his brothers would suspect he just dirtied himself or something.

After he had calmed himself down he stayed close to you and muttered small thank yous. After the movie finished, you had left and Chris was in his room, thinking about what happened not even less than an hour ago,

he had never been more happier and was glad his brothers didn’t suspect anything at all. ✧˚ · .

text message from Matt:

“kid thinks he’s slick.”

likes and comments are always appreciated! this is my first time writing small blurbs so i’ll also appreciate some tips! 🤍

[ennabear]

I'm begging you to write about mean!abby and reader finding a kitten in one of the buildings, Abby not letting her save the kitten but reader cries all night so Abby HAS to go back and get the kitten...

a/n: plsss this is so cute 😭 thanks for the request baby ilysm and i may or may not have written too much about this 🤗💗💗

daily click / boycott tlou / help these families evacuate / free palestine

abby wasn’t mean necessarily, just very strict. she knew you even better than the back of her hand, and she liked that you depended on her for everything.

hungry? ask abby to make something for you. tired? good, it’s almost your bedtime, don’t want you being cranky in the morning. can’t reach something? better go get abby to grab it for you.

so when you saw that poor kitten while walking back to your apartment, you knew you had to ask her for it. it started with you just hearing a few pleading mewls before turning around and seeing it toddling toward you.

“aww, abs, look! it’s a little kitten!” your smile growing. you were met with a cold “hmm.” from abby. “can we take it home?” you asked. “absolutely not. we don’t have room for an animal.” it was partially true. your apartment wasn’t huge, but it was a comfortable size, and you were moving soon anyways.

ignoring her, you picked it up and continued strolling beside her, cooing at it’s small size and adorable face. “did you not hear me? i said put it back.” she snapped. “don’t call it an ‘it’, abs. i think it’s a girl.”

she glared at you, unamused. “now.” you walked over to a small corner and placed her down, giving her a final pet as your eyes welled up. even if you couldn’t keep her, you at least hoped you’d see her again. maybe it would become a neighborhood cat that everybody mutually loved, everyone except abby.

you didn’t talk to her the rest of the walk home, which was short, or even meet her gaze. although you understood that she only ever tried to look out for you, sometimes she was too strict. you went to bed that night without even returning a kiss, too angry at her, too worried about the poor kitten all alone outside. scared, cold, hungry.

these thoughts continued to plague your mind, eventually causing tears to collect. you hid your face in abby’s chest and sniffled, trying not to start sobbing. “baby?” she asked, “are you alright?”

“abs… that poor kitty. it doesn’t even have a family.” you were crying now. “w-what if it gets too cold, or it gets h-hit by a car.”

abby frowned at your words. “it won’t, honey. it’s already survived this long, it can go a few more nights before someone else picks it up.”

“but it’s n-not supposed to survive on its own. someone probably left it there to die.” you were sobbing, too.

“well, we’re not taking it home. i’m sorry, hate me all you want but we don’t have time or space for a pet.” you didn’t understand how she could be so mean. you cried even harder at this, hoping, praying the cute little guy survives. you cried into her chest until eventually, sleep took you.

abby had other plans. she didn’t know you’d instantly get so attached to that cat, and she hated that now you were crying because of her. she only wanted to do what was best for you, but there was no winning this battle.

once she was sure you were asleep, she slid her shoes back on and headed outside, hoping it was stills there, even more that there was only one. to her luck, the kitten was still there, instantly jumping up and waddling toward her. it’s meows seeming louder than earlier, like it recognized her or something.

she picked it up with two hands, trying not to hold it too close in case she changes her mind about wanting to keep it. slowly, she tiptoed back inside, trying her hardest not to wake you.

her fingers raced to ask google every question she had about caring for it. things like what to feed a baby kitten or where to get kitten milk replacer or how do baby cats stay warm at night? after finding what she needed, she put the kitten in an old shoebox and carried it out to the car.

surprisingly, the kitten didn’t seem to hate the drive, it was mostly just excited to be out of a big, scary parking lot. she put the car in park, and swore to herself that she would take no longer than 10 minutes in the store.

12 minutes later, she’s back with a syringe, a tin of kitten milk replacer, a heating pad, a litter box, and a water bowl. the kitten peeks up at her after she opens it just to check in. it meows and tries to grab her hand, but she closes it too quickly and drives back home.

when you wake up, you’re surprised to see that abby is still in bed with you. usually she’s at the gym, or if not, she’s definitely started her day by this time. with hands on her sides, you roll her over to cuddle with you. “abs,” you whisper into her neck, “why are you still here?”

“i had a long night.” she responded. “and i’m sorry i made you cry, i promise the cat will be fine.”

you completely ignored the second part, “long night? no you didn’t.” how could she have had a long night? she was in bed with you the whole time, right?

“go look on the kitchen table, silly girl.” so you did. you yawned and put on your slippers, making your way out of the bedroom.

on the kitchen counter you found an old shoebox, a heating pad with a temperature remote attached to it, a soft hand towel, and a sleeping gray kitten.

tears threatened to spill again as you felt abby’s arms wrap around you, her head snuggling into your neck and whispering “surprise.”

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 26] || [Chapter 27]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 500~ (in the video + picture) cw: accidental exhibitionism/voyeurism, good natured teasing Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: This chapter is **different**. You can read it OR watch it live! So sorry btw that the video is not embedded 😭😭🙏 a/n #2: Also this chapter is 100% inspired by this fanart by @ramvur but with Simon, instead of Price.

Chapter pre-27: Away (UPDATED!)

If you'd rather watch their text convo: CLICK HERE

It's 6 A.M. when your phone start buzzing repeatedly on the night stand next to you.

You paw at it languidly, blinking away the sleep as you attempt to unlock the phone and rub the sleep out of your eyes.

johnny: baby guess what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11 johnny: baby johnny: babyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy johnny: if ye dont answer my texts 🙄 you: jesus christ johnny its 6am what are you doing up??? 😑 johnny: good morning love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! johnny: weve got training today 😙 johnny: guess what happened you: what simon: Good morning sweeheart. johnny: WAIT WHAT ARE YOU DOING ANSWERING? you: good morning si 🫶 you: wait what do u mean u were calling for me no? johnny: I MEANT SIMON HES IN THE INFIRMARY HES NOT MEANT TO BE ANSWERING johnny: HOW DO YE EVEN HAVE YOUR PHONE you: i feel like u need to stop asking how he does things you: uve known him for longer than me and im not surprised anymore you: also IN THE INFIRMARY? johnny: thats what i was coming to tell you!!!!! 🙄🙄🙄🙄 you: why did u frame it like its a good thing?????????? johnny: because he got put there by Kyle during training johnny: we were practising chokeholds and he passed out you: I STILL DONT SEE HOW THATS A GOOD THING JOHNNY johnny: HES FINE YE DON'T UNDERSTAND johnny: HE GOT ROCK HARD WHILE KYLE HAD HIS LEGS WRAPPED AROUND HIS THROAT you: WHAT??? you: tell me more 👀 johnny: 😏😏 johnny: he was wearing shorts and his cock just popped out you: LIKE OUT OUT? johnny: out out 🍆 you: wow 😮‍💨 you: did u get any pictures? 👀 johnny: i did bonnie do ye want them? 😏 johnny: even caught the look in prices and kyles faces when it happened you: send me send me send me you: wait it happened in front of them???? johnny: worse happened in front of everyone 🥴 we were training with other units you: oh shit you: that has to have been embarrassing you: is he okay though from passing out? you: johnny? you: wow imagine ignoring me kyle: johnny's a little occupied at the moment lovie! kyle: good morning btw! 😚 you: good morning ky!! 🫶 you: occupied? kyle: ghost's chasing him for telling you everything and johnny's running for his life 😭 you: 🙃 you: normal day then? kyle: normal day 🥴 you: okay then well hope the training went well kyle: it did! 😏 anyway got to go kyle: pls go back to sleep need you well rested lovie you: i will i will.

Sighing a bit, you set your phone down on the charger again and attempt to go back to sleep... unsuccessfully so.

After half an hour of tossing and turning, you find yourself grabbing the phone again and your thumb clicks on John's name in your contacts.

You don't text him often, the last time having been nearly a week before, but, right now, you felt like you should.

you: the lads just woke me up you: johnny more specifically 🙄 you: now i cant get to sleep again john: if it's any consolation john: I told him not to john: need help? you: how would u help? john: can call you and sing you a lullaby? you: pls dont john: then I'm out of ideas darling you: u could help in another way john: and what's that? 😏 you: remember how u said u had a house of ur own you: and if i ever needed a break we could go there? john: i see 😏 john: want me to take you away for the weekend darling? you: yes please

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taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[w0rmm1lk]

I saw that you were receiving requests and I was wondering if you could write a Bakugou x male reader angst (both adults and married if possible, but it doesn't necessarily have to be.) where they There's an argument and the reader leaves the house at night and comes back just a week later (because Bakugou said some bad things. I don't think he would do that but I love angst where the character almost literally has to kneel down and ask the reader for forgiveness 😭😭😭) I'm sorry if it's too detailed and forgive my English, I'm Brazilian and I'm using Google Translate ☠️... (oh! and with a happy ending please🥺)

Yayyy first request hehe

Summary: reader and bakugo got into a small argument about bakugo not being home enough due to his hero work, bakugo being himself the argument escalated into something worse.

reader: Male

other details: Hero!Bakugo, Readers job not mentioned (can be read as hero reader or other). It is mentioned that reader has a sibling but details about them are not specified.

warnings: angst-(fluff at end), swearing(its bakugo what did you expect) implied married reader and bakugo but not mentioned. Kinda ooc but I tried my best 🥲

You and bakugo had been together for quite some time. You first started the relationship when he was in his second year at UA, but you had known eachother since middle school. So of course you knew eachother very well, and were very close. Or well, as close as you can be with bakugo.

when you first got together he had been quite distant, but you understood. He wasn’t use to this kind of thing, yet it didn’t take him long to adjust. Long story short after he graduated you both ended up moving in together.

you had quickly gotten use to how much bakugo worked. He was so desperate to be the No.1 hero, and of course as his boyfriend/husband you supported him in that. Yet, sometimes you felt that he was more focused on that than you. He was rarely ever home leaving you to do most of the house work, including the laundry, dishes, buying groceries, ect. at first it wasn’t anything to worry about, you were mostly okay with it since you got to stay home most of the time, but sometimes it would get lonley. It was weird… you had been in a relationship for so long and even lived with him yet the house felt so empty and devoid of life. You thought that it was maybe a good idea to bring this up with bakugo. He would understand…right?

You ended up needing to stay up quite late that night waiting for him to return. He always worked overtime just to get his rank higher. He was already in the top ten… why did he worry so much…?

you felt a small jolt of surprise when you heard the front door unlock, sitting up you looked over to see bakugo. Despite being right there he didn’t seem to notice you.

“Katsuki..? Can we talk real quick?” You spoke, trying to seem calm. Despite this your heart was beating like crazy, it felt like some part of you was screaming to not bring up the issues. “Hm? Oh, you’re still awake.” He replied.. yet it seemed quite delayed.

“ah- yeah… but we need to talk.” He looked over with an annoyed expression. “Not right now.” His reply… shocked you to say the least. “Katsuki. It’s important. It’ll be quick I just need to—“ he cut you off with an annoyed sigh. “I said not right now Y/N.”

“This can’t really wait for later—“ he glared. “Do you not get what *not right now* means?” He raised his voice slightly as he spoke, his eyes piercing into your softer gaze. “It’ll be quick—! I swear.” You spoke, hoping that he would take a moment to sit down and hear you out.

he rolled his eyes tilting his head back letting out a dramatic sigh. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.” I felt a bit of relief as he accepted. I waited a moment as he sat down on the couch beside me. “The hell do you want? It’s so goddamn late.” Despite him agreeing to speak it was clear how much he didn’t want to.

“i… I was thinking, could you maybe… try spending a bit more time at home…? I know how important your hero work is to you- and I don’t want to stop you from reaching your goal but… we haven’t really spent much time together in the last few months, and— I guess I’ve been kinda lonley…?”

he stared at you, his gaze not breaking for even a second as he spoke. You looked back as you finished, expecting him to understand, but instead you were met with a rather… interesting, expression.

his expression gave off the kinda mood of *are you being serious?*

“that’s what this was about? This is what was so fucking important you just had to talk about it right now?”

what he said… it almost hurt slightly. “What…? What do you mean? I think this is something that’s pretty important.” He rolled his eyes at your response. “Tch, I get how needy you are but I can’t just throw away all my work just for you.”

“what-? I- that’s not what I’m saying-! You’re only ever home at night after I’m asleep and you’re gone once I wake up! I’m not being needy! And asking to see you at least once everyday while living in the same house is not being needy!”

his expression made it clear he was pissed off. “Do you not realise how important my work is? How important it is for me to become no.1? Or does it all not matter to you?!” You stare at him in slight shock, it was weird how much he was misunderstanding the situation.

“that’s not what I mean! I just want to spend more time with you-! If I’m going to be stuck at home all day I at least want to see someone-! Especially you!”

“I can’t just throw away my work to spend my whole day with you! My life doesn’t revolve around you!” He stood up looking down at you.

“Katsuki! That’s not what I mean-! You—“ He cut you off. “If you think I can put everything aside just for you then— you’re mistaken.” There was an awkward silence in the room for just a moment. “You should just go.” You stared at him, your eyes locked onto eachother. “What…?” “Tch— I said you should go-!”

“Katsuki— what are you talking about?!”

“…. You know damn well what I mean.”

the silence started again lasting for a good twenty seconds. You could feel the tears building up yet not spilling. “Fine.” You stood up grabbing your phone and keys walking out the door. You didn’t know what to do but just listen.

you looked at your phone for just a moment before texting your sibling, you didn’t really have anywhere to stay so you hoped they would let you crash at their place for a bit. You stare at the small screen… it was late so you could only hope they were still awake to reply. The amount of relief you felt when your screen lit up and a small notification read

..”sure.”

the next few days passed by so painfully slow. You stared at your phone most the time just hoping to see a notification from Bakugo, some sort of apology, or just a check up. nothing.

it didn’t help that he was quite a popular hero, you couldn’t even watch the news without seeing him.

after a full week past without anything from him, you realise that this was most likley an end to your relationship. All these years thrown away simply because you couldn’t handle not being near him.

you picked up your phone hesitating before sending bakugo a simple message.

“im coming over to grab my stuff. Be there in 20.”

you looked as the message sent, of course he left you on read.

despite it only being a 20 minutes drive, it felt like hours. Your mind was racing, you were nervous, scared to see him. As you walked to the front door you hesitated standing there for a good 30 seconds before finally knocking.

your heart was beating fast as the front door opened. “…come in.” He spoke. He looked more tired than ever, if anything it was a surprise he was even home. You simply nodded, stepping inside. The house looked like shit. You weren’t thinking that to be rude, it genuine looked like bakugo wasn’t doing anything to take care of it.

“y/n i—“ he was cut off staring at you, as you gave him the same glare he sent you a week ago. He averted his eyes like he was holding back tears. “Please— let’s… let’s talk about this….?”

“…what is there to talk about. You made it clear how you feel.”

“i— I had some time to think… a… a lot of time and— i- im… Tch— im fucking sorry okay?!”

you continued to stare at him, though the apology was genuine, you were scared to accept. You didn’t want things to just go back to how they were before.

“please y/n i— I didn’t realise how much I need you.. you’re so god damn important to me… i… took you for granted.”

you stayed silent staring at him. It’s not that you were being rude, you simply didn’t know what to say. You could see the desperation in his eyes but didn’t expect him to start tearing up.

“Y/n… please don’t leave me-! I.. I need you… please…” you watched as he grasped your hands tears pouring down his face as he struggled to even breath.

“im sorry for everything I said I— I had so much time to think and… I didn’t have my priorities straight! So please let’s just… let’s talk over this okay…?”

without a word you lifted a hand up wiping the tears from bakugos eyes before resting a hand on his cheek. “You’ll do better this time right…? It won’t just go back to how it was before…?”

you could see a spark in his eyes now that you finally answered. “I promise-! I— it won’t happen again just— please— don’t leave me…”

you let out a soft sigh. “I won’t leave you. And… I forgive you.” You heald onto his hands gently for just a moment before he pulled you in holding you close.

“i… don’t know how I ever took a man like you for granted.”

(end)

[aluciahaz]

may i just say that your character writing is AMAZING! i honestly don’t check up on your blog a lot but when i do i’m left SHAKING because your shit is soooo hot.

Anyways i humbly come requesting mommy kink with vox because you know i’m all about that. he’s so desperate for validation and scared of rejection i feel like he’d be weeping at a domme mommy type reader. Anyways, do what you want with this!

once again i love your work! sincerely, bimbo <3

oh my god it's one of my favorite writers on tumblr🦅 thank you so much for the compliment it means a lot 😭 also i loved writing this ive desperately needed more vox asks! hope you enjoy! (kinda went ham on metaphors 💀 mb)

greed never stops

—vox x f!reader

—includes: overstim, tons of crying, begging, light bondage

vox was a walking, living(?) juxtaposition.

he’ll go barking orders to his subordinates, control most situations with smooth, quick thinking, and command his business with an iron fist.

but with you, the other side of his screen is on full display. his vulnerable, attention-desperate, failure-fearful self. you’ve seen it enough times to notice how it seeps into his daily life. how his control is really just a mechanism to take hold of his vulnerability, hiding it behind a mess of steel wires to make anyone who would try and reach it get tangled in its grasp.

but the moments he lets you untangle his facade, allowing you to see his true self, he feels free. even if most of the time it was during more intimate moments in the night. it was where he could truly indulge in his unfamiliar desires, crying and begging for the validation he was always seeking.

and you were the one he needed it from.

your praise was one of the highest in the hierarchy of compliments, making him feel like he was burning up, frying his brain in a way that made him feel like he’s short-circuited, but the feeling of fuzziness was intoxicating. he could never give up the taste of your compliments.

“come on, aren’t you a good boy? you can hold out for a little longer.”

those words were like rich liquor, and vox was an eager drinker. it swirled his thoughts into a never-ending spiral, and he could only cry in response as you touched his face with a gentleness that rivals an angel’s.

“b-but, mommy—!” he sobs as your fingers drive into him for what seems the thousandth time, his voice module starting to struggle as he tries to speak.

“oh?” you raise your eyebrow, feigning shock before narrowing your eyes, pressing him further down the sheets in disdain. is he still being ungrateful?

“but what, huh? don’t tell me you need more already! you’re such a greedy fucking slut,” you spit out, watching his eyes shoot open from the whiplash of your cruel words. “maybe i should stop—,”

“NO! nono, please! no! i’m sorry���!” he keens as your fingers slowly start to slip out of him, the sound so indecent it makes him shiver.

he pushes his hips up into your hand, trying to follow them only for your other hand to shove his hips back down on the sheets, your fingers twisting nearly all the way out before ramming back in, curling in wickedly that seems to shut him up briefly as he catches a breath that ran away.

vox weeps, unable to do anything else as his claws rip into the mattress, his legs shake and tremble as though they weren’t practically crushing you before. he seems so fragile at this moment, yet you knew he could take much more.

he just didn’t deserve it.

he whines and screams at your touch, tears starting to fall down his pretty little face as the small amount of dignity he had seems to get lost, overrun by your torturous fingers and unyielding pleasure that shoots through his body like a current.

“mommy—ha—please jus—zz—t fuck me, oh, god!” his head drops back down onto the pillows as your fingers wrap around his weeping cock, making his back arch as he sobs out noncoherent pleads. it’s beautifully pathetic.

his legs, weak and feeble, were strewn across the bed with previous markings trailing up his inner thigh, his neck even more decorated with a necklace of red, the glimmer of sweat that covers his whole body making those bites shine similar to crude rubies.

his hands, now tied with his own wires behind the bed (he charges there before he goes to sleep) were sullied with crimson from the tightness of the metal around his wrist, but not as bright crimson as his eyes, which flashed with bright red hearts intermittently. it was always a pleasant surprise, and a sign that he fucking loved this. no matter how much he complained at the start, his eyes spoke the truth.

which is why now, as you replace your fingers with his favorite strap, you know he’s absolutely overjoyed as those beating hearts seem to overtake his pupils once more, pulsating with a hypnotizing spiral.

“finally—! oh—zzz—FUCK!” his last word is practically inaudible with the airiness in his voice, his tone starting to distort, yet, your pace was slow. shallow, even. tears of frustration started to form at the ends of his eyes, his whines more pitiful as he tries to fuck himself back on your strap, only to be stopped by your sturdy grip on his hips.

“what do you say, vox?“ you asked, irritation slipping into your voice. how could he still be so ungrateful? but, he catches on fast, looking up at you with round, glossy eyes.

“thank you! thank—thank you, mommy!” he stumbles out before you switch up your pace instantly, brutally ramming into him just how he likes it. it makes him unable to fathom he could have been known to be anything but yours, surrendering his well-built persona to you. all of it, for your praise.

“such a good boy.”

those words were priceless, but he always ends up trying to buy them with obedience. and even though he’s successfully checked out with such praise, they still have the same effect on him every time.

he shudders and wails with ruined pitch, his screen flickering in and out of error messages and his lovely expression as he gets his reward. there was just something so satisfying about earning your praise.

sure, he can buy pretty much anything, and yes, he can get people to kneel at his feet, but he can’t cry without shame, or indulge in his true desires of being completely wrecked with soft words and fast hips with anyone. no, it could only be you. and even if he practically has everything under his hands, he will always be greedy for your affection, begging, screaming for a chance to have it set his whole body ablaze with its foreign warm feeling.

it makes him lost. no matter how much intelligence vox has, he always finds himself unable to search his way out of the feeling of pure lust overtaking his senses when you fuck him with abandon, his need to keep face seemingly never being there in the first place as tears make him short-circuit, and pleads for you to never stop. he doesn’t want to leave this labyrinth of carnality. he wants to stay lost in it forever.

it’s why even after he cums with a high-pitch sob so loud you thought his volume module broke, he kept weeping incoherently as the lights flicker in the room, his legs practically numb. and finally, he looks up at you, sniffling and choking on his words he’ll pretend to regret the next morning.

“m-more. please, mommy—! AH!” his whole body jolts as you heed his wishes, leaving him to fall back into the pleasure that he craves. he babbles on and on with thank yous and nonsensical sentences, the night seeming to become never-ending even with daybreak inching closer and closer.

vox is unable to speak at the end, and god does everything fucking hurt. his arms ache and his legs are definitely going to be an issue when he has to walk. there are marks all over his skin that will never see the light of day, yet be around for plenty of nights.

but you both know he’ll come back for more. his greed is an unquenchable thirst, and your praise is the only fountain that seems to satiate it, even if only for a little while.

(i totally didnt forget to tag)

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @mvskedxrtist @drlucichen @luciferspetduck