#surprise mallory with his ass out

[jaw-bones]

— i am not immune to #BunnyDay 🌺🐰 ft. Mallory~

[valeskawhore]

Mama’s boy!

Series/tv: series! 1/?

Characters and paring(s): Homelander x fem!supe!Caretaker!

Word(s):1.0k!!

A/n: yall it’s finally here, please don’t shun me. I forgot I had this fucking series fr— like I am so series. And then I saw that the NEW SEASON OF THR BOYS IS COMING THE 13th!!!!! HELL YEAHHHHH!! this series will follow the original series. FIND THE IDEA HERE!

(C): I DO NOT OWN ‘THE BOYS’ AMAZON ORIGINAL SERIES/TV!!

———

———

“So.. I’d- what? Be a mother to this little sonuvabitch?” I mocked, leaning back in my chair a little. My coffee cup rested between my cold fingertips on this cold autumn day. The steam filling my nostrils, comforting but didnt make up for the fucked situation i was put in.

We had decided on a meeting in a public place per my request and somehow it had gotten approved. This was surprising yet relieving if you knew anything about Vought International.

“Yes, you’d be a caretaker technically; And whatever else that comes with the job but I suppose a ‘mother’ as you put it, would be a more professional and accurate term in this situation.” He replied. “We just want to ensure our prodigies' safety and having him grow in a lab isn't the most beneficial considering he’s already ripped four or more of his female caregivers in half.” Sipping his coffee nonchalantly.

Stan Edgar.

Always a pain in the ass and who also just happened to be the CEO of said, ‘Vought international’.

Though I always knew him as just Stan and dare I even say he was an old friend of mine from Vought’s ‘Payback’ days when I worked as the second in command to Grace Mallory as we had to partake in being the case managers for the CIA.

Babysitting drugged up supes was never in the job description but as grace always told me; one joy of being a part of the CIA was learning on the job and learning we did.

That is where I first met Stan and if it wasn't for him I would have torn the head of the one and only ‘Soldier boy’ for eyeing my up and down as if I was a piece of cake for him to cut a piece of.

I coughed on some of the coffee I held in my mouth with wide eyes. I swallowed and wiped my mouth, “Pardon? Ripped? In half?” Stan nodded, his face even with even a hint of amusement.

“Are you fucking crazy? And i'm supposed to babysit this little shi-”

Stand cut me off, sensing my panic as he reached his hand on and stopped my bickering as if I was overreacting completely. “Oh please, fret not my friend. We have a plan for that.”

I cocked my eyebrow, “What kind of.. Plan?” I asked.

“I'm so glad you asked,” he smiled, taking a sip of his mocha. “Of course, there will be extra cautionary procedures considering we want you to be long term. And a whole new contract to bridge off our original but sadly, it is required if you’d like to live long enough to receive your check.”

I stayed quiet and listened intently, my fingers suddenly no linger felt frozen.

I felt warm, sick almost as a million feelings and thoughts stirred within me with all the possible circumstances.

“We plan to put you through a series of tests, experiment without the experiment part because we know what we're going yet it will still be the first.” His eyes felt cold on me, like he was brewing up something despicable.

“You’re going to be one strong supernanny– isn't that exciting?” And now I know why.

My body drew back subconsciously even. I stared at him through wilted eyelashes at his proposal. I sat my coffee down, the condensation made my palms sweaty in the autumn chill. Looking anywhere and everywhere but him.

Stan sensed my hesitance, eyes going down to my coffee and then to the show of my wiping my palms on my pants. Nervousness creeping up into my mind, he spoke.

“You don't have to do this,” he began, this time his hands reached out and enclosed mine in his warm ones. His brown eyes searching in mine, “But listen to me as i say this..” my face looked up and found his again at his sudden tone of.. Warmness?

“I would never put you in a situation where I could predict long term harm to you.” i didn't say anything at first once his words set in, i laughed at that, finding my voice finally. “Ah, but short term harm you can predict.” I noted and went to pull my hands away but his grip tightened.

“Well I never said it was going to feel like laying on a bearskin rug, Compound V will tear you apart limb from limb and then rebuild your blood cells all over again. You will become indestructible in every way possible. You will be made. To. be. Able. to. Do. this. Job, i will promise you that above everything”

“Ah, so like Bella from Twilight when she first became a vampire.” I laughed. Stan looked at me with a puzzled expression, “Pardon?”

“Nothing old timer. I wouldn't expect you to know anything of the sort.” I gave his knee a gentle slap. To my relife he dropped it and gave me a nervous laugh, “But, anyways.” He stood and pulled out his wallet to pay for our meals.

“You have by the end of the week, Just call the front desk and let them know your decision. They’ll be expecting to hear from you.” and before i could respond,

He was gone like that.

The carpark returned his vehicle and opened the door for him, Stan was gone as quick as he appeared.

I turned back to my coffee and stared into the milky abyss watching as the cream met the coffee in a caffeinated tango.

I wish coffee was on my mind at the moment. To have something so simple to think about would have been a relief in this moment but I wasn't so fortunate.

I stood up.

And all over again, the cool autumn air made me feel colder than ever.

——

A/n: WHAT ARE WE FEELING!? ooooOOooo what if Billy BUTCHER WAS INCLUDED—

[ladysarai]

happy writing! :D

....I cannot believe this fic happened. Sorry not sorry.

~*~

“What’s wrong with him?” Ariadne asks, irritation and hurt in her voice, watching Arthur stalk out of the hotel room they’re using as a base.

“It’s not us, pet,” Eames tells her, calm and patient and utterly unperturbed by the explosion of temper they’d just witnessed.

She huffs, returning to her drafts with vicious intent, feeling like her emotions are boiling under her skin. “Well, something crawled up his ass today,” she finally snaps, unable to keep herself in check. “And if it’s not us, then it’s not okay for him to take it out on us.”

Eames doesn’t say anything at first, and when she finally can’t take his silence anymore, she looks at him and finds him watching her contemplatively. He holds up a hand before she can snap at him, and she swallows it back, scowling instead. Finally, he says, “Today is Mal’s birthday. Was.”

Ariadne blinks at that, and she remembers Arthur’s face, during the Fischer job, the surprise and hurt when he said “she’s dead,” and the look in his eyes, the deep sadness of “she was lovely.” She thinks of the only other time she’s ever seen Arthur lose his temper like he had today, and realizes it was with Cobb, during the Fischer job–”what, with Mal? ‘Cause that worked so good?”

“Oh,” she says finally. Eames is still watching her, reading her reaction, watching her assemble the puzzle pieces. “I didn’t–I know he knew her. I didn’t know they were close.”

There’s a strange, unreadable expression that crosses Eames’s face at that, and a long moment before he speaks. When he does, Ariadne feels a little like the world has tilted on its axis.

“She was his sister.”

~*~

It doesn’t make sense. The puzzle pieces don’t slide together neatly, and Ariadne can’t find a way to manipulate them in a way that works.

Once she gets past the initial hurt feelings and indignation over the fact that no one said one thing during the entirety of the Fischer job (or after), she has to acknowledge that she actually doesn’t know all that much about Arthur’s personal life.

She knows even less about Mallorie Cobb (nee Miles; she only knows that because she went to see Dr. Miles after she returned from LA and saw a picture of her in his office along with children’s drawings for “Grampa” on the bulletin board). She knows what happened to her. She knows about Cobb’s guilt, and what his mind twisted her into, and she knows that what she knows is all filtered through him and his memories, and it isn’t enough.

Ariadne remembers insisting, over and over, that Cobb needed to tell Arthur about Mal, about what he was burying, and now she thinks–of course. Of course Cobb wouldn’t want to tell Arthur what he’d done to Mal, what he was then doing to his memories of her. She thought she was seeing more than anyone else, but maybe she was looking right into the sun and not seeing it.

She promised Eames that she wouldn’t bother Arthur about this–not now, not yet. But she never promised not to try to find out what she can. Google is only so helpful; Arthur is a lost cause. She tried looking him up after they first met, but the name she knows for him is clearly an alias, and no matter how hard she’s tried, she hasn’t been able to find any records or trace of him. (She knows now that he, along with Eames, were involved in those early military experiments he once told her about. She can only imagine that being part of a top secret military experiment must contribute to having an ungoogleable past, and she really isn’t keen on getting herself on some Homeland Security watch list.) She tries googling “Arthur Miles” now, but it’s useless.

She looks up Dr. Miles instead; Stephen Miles, professor of architecture at a long list of prestigious universities. She finds lists of his books and published articles, and reads about how he lives in Paris with his wife Marie, where they raised their daughter, Mallorie.

So Ariadne looks up Mal, using both names, Miles and Cobb. She discovers that Mal had a doctorate–a Ph.D. in neuropsychology, which is not something she ever would have been able to guess based on Cobb’s memories of her. There are lists of her own published articles, most of them related to dreams and dreaming. This was Mal; this was the kind of woman who would marry Dominic Cobb, who would experiment on dream levels with him and follow him to Limbo, who would stay there with him for over fifty years.

Ariadne reads several of her articles, and wishes she could have met the real woman, the one who wrote them.

No matter how much she researches, how much she reads, Ariadne still can’t find the missing piece to her puzzle. She can’t figure out how Arthur fits into the puzzle of Mal, of Mal and Cobb. She can’t fit “ah, so you’ve met Mrs.Cobb” and “she was lovely” with sister and brother.

~*~

Ariadne sets the mystery aside, but she doesn’t forget. She thinks about calling Cobb and asking him, but something stops her. She would rather ask Arthur, but for some reason, she doesn’t. They finish that job (Arthur apologizes the next day for his outburst, and no one says anything about why–and she doesn’t ask), and they keep in touch via email and texts until they work on another job together. She doesn’t ask about it at that job, either.

It’s a good seven months and two jobs later that Ariadne finds herself alone in a rented office space with Arthur and Eames. She’s building a 3-D model of the dream layout, carving into cardboard with an x-acto knife, when Eames announces that he’s going to go pick up lunch. He asks if she wants to come with, but she declines and gives him her sandwich order.

It isn’t until he’s closing the door behind him that she realizes two things. First, he never asks Arthur what he wants; he just always seems to know what to bring him. And second–that Arthur is still sleeping, hooked up to the PASIV, testing out their chemist's newest batch of somnacin. She looks over at him, sprawled out bonelessly on the couch, his face relaxed like she never sees it when he’s awake, and a tiny voice in the back of her mind wonders if she’s ever going to learn her lesson.

Not today, apparently.

She’s across the room and hooking herself up to the PASIV before she fully allows herself to think of the potential consequences.

Arthur’s dreams are usually her favorites. He’s the most stable dreamer she knows of–according to Eames, he’s the most stable dreamer there is–and no one is better at mazes and paradoxes than Arthur.

What she falls into this time is different. There’s no crisp architecture or modern designs, no mazes, no fancy hotels or office buildings. Instead, she finds herself in the middle of a quiet city side street. There’s snow on the ground and the sky is a gunmetal gray that promises more snow in the near future. Ariadne shivers and dreams herself up a warmer coat and some gloves, looking around to try to place herself and figure out where Arthur might be.

She begins slowly walking down the block, keeping an eye out for projections. The ones she passes aren’t bothered by her, and don’t even seem to register her presence. She spots Massachusetts license plates on the cars, and the occasional Red Sox or Bruins flags on the houses she passes. Boston, maybe, or somewhere just outside–this certainly isn’t the downtown touristy part of the city she’s used to seeing on television or in movies, but there’s a realness to it that tells her this is something more than just some random dreamscape.

She sees some figures in the street and hears voices up ahead, and recognizes Arthur’s. She ducks into the alley between two houses, sneaking through a back yard or two until she can creep along the side of a house and kneel down next to a porch, keeping herself mostly hidden behind a bush.

They’re there, standing in the street, looking up at the house behind her. Arthur, hands in his coat pockets, standing next to Mal. Looking at them standing there, both in their dark clothing, matching frowns on their faces… Ariadne sees it, now. The missing piece of the puzzle slides into place neatly. She was his sister.

“Why are we here, Mal?” Arthur asks, eyes still on the house.

Mal glances over at him and gives him an enigmatic little smile. This Mal is subtly different from the Mal Ariadne remembers from Cobb’s dreams; warmer, less threatening, but her accent is the same. “You tell me, mon cher. This is your dream, remember?”

The corner of his mouth twitches in something almost a smile. “You know I hate when you get all self-aware on me.”

She puts a hand on his arm. “Ah, but you never have been good at lying to yourself, now have you, Arthur?” She begins walking toward the house, and Ariadne shrinks back against the building, huddling further behind the bush. She hears Mal walk up the porch steps and stop and after a moment, Arthur follows.

For a moment Ariadne isn’t sure what to do; she thinks that if they went inside the house, she would have heard the door, but if they’re on the porch, she doesn’t dare move in case Arthur sees her. Then she hears Arthur’s voice, and thinks maybe they’ve sat on the porch steps. “I miss you.”

“I know,” Mal says. “But this isn’t about me.”

“Sure, it is.” There’s a teasing note to Arthur’s voice that Ariadne recognizes. “You know, for a memory, you’re really not playing along very well.”

“This is not one of our happier memories. You could have picked something nicer. Certainly something warmer than Dorchester in March.”

He snorts. “I’m testing a compound. I didn’t exactly plan on a trip down this end of Memory Lane.”

“What did you plan on?”

Arthur doesn’t answer for a long time, and when he does, it doesn’t make sense to Ariadne. “I’m glad you grew up in France.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t. We should have been together.”

“Coulda, shoulda, woulda.” Ariadne has to bite her lip to keep from laughing at the way Arthur says it.

“I could have protected you.”

Arthur laughs at that, not unkindly. “Mal, I was fine. You were there when I really needed you. Besides, you and Dad would have been like oil and water. I’m pretty sure none of us would have survived.”

“Dom and I will have beautiful children,” Mal announces, and there’s something about her cadence that tells Ariadne that this is Memory!Mal. “And if we ever divorce, I will make sure the children stay together and have the chance to know both of their parents. Even if Dominic does not deserve my benevolence.”

“Fuck, I forgot you said that,” Arthur sighs.

Mal laughs, bright and cheerful, and Ariadne’s heart aches for reasons she can’t name. She thinks she’s heard enough, so she creeps carefully back the way she came and waits until she’s far from Arthur’s childhood home before she kicks herself out of his dream.

Ariadne never tells anyone what she saw, and decides she would rather wait for Arthur to confide in her than go poking about in any more dream memories.

[sheabuttahwrites]

The Shelf Life Of Honey ( a Masego short )

- - //sounds ICU - Coco Jones, Black Love - Masego, Make Me Say It Again Girl, Pts. 1 & 2 - The Isley Brothers - story masterlist Shea Buttah Bakery Masterlist -

pt.1 ::

When she heard her bedroom door come open, she didn't even have to look; she already knew it was him. But, since it was him, she was gonna look. Her TV provided the only light, but it was enough. He glided across the threshold, his twisted ponytail grazing the top of the doorframe. He smiled goofily at her, showing all of his pretty teeth before he turned to slowly and silently close the door, locking it with the same care. She stifled a smile, keeping her eyes on him as he made his way around to the empty side of her bed. He had on striped pajama pants and a white knit tank top, looking like somebody’s Jamaican uncle. But his arms and shoulders were looking a bit thicker than the last time she’d seen him. He had said something about a gym membership a while ago, but she didn’t think his lil skinny self would actually do it. His chest even looked a little bulkier. She had to admit, resisting the urge to stare at him and all of his newness was a slight feat. 

“Mally Mal.” He took a seat and situated himself up against her headboard. “What up?” She sighed, loosening the reins enough to let out a smirk. He dropped his face, chuckling into his palm. “I know. I should've told you I was coming.”

“You should've.”

“I didn’t know how.”

She turned to her side and propped herself up on her elbow. “Micah, really?” He almost winced at her use of his full name. “Stop it. You could've shot me a quick text.”

“I wanted to. Honestly, I didn’t know how you would feel about it. And I didn't wanna just flake on KJ.”

“I already told you I wasn’t mad at you.”

“You say that, but then I don’t see you or hear from you for a month.”

“Well, that works both ways.”

“…I was giving you space.”

“Yeah. Because you know you were dead wrong.”

He sighed. “Come on, Mal.” 

After their unplanned hiatus, she was surprised to see him step into her parents’ house with a suitcase. It was her little brother’s thirtieth birthday weekend. Per his tradition, he was spending the first part of his birthday with the family, so she knew Mic would be there, just not that he’d be staying. Talking about his parents were out of town. Of course, hers had offered him a room. They’d insisted, she was sure. 

They all knew she and ‘best friend’, as she so affectionately called him, had been beefing since Christmas, but no one knew why exactly. At least she didn't think so. She just wished someone would’ve had the decency to tell her about the arrangements. Since they had obviously been planned ahead of time. ‘Oh, yeah. Mic is staying for the weekend,’ her mom had revealed after she’d seen the annoyed look on Mallory’s face, and after Micah was already inside. You don’t say.

“What were you trying to do anyway?” Mal continued.

“I wasn’t trying to do anything.”

“Were you trying to make me jealous or something?”

“No! How could I be doing that when she was just my friend?” he asked.

“Your ‘friend’… that you brought to Christmas? Ok.”

“Yes. Exactly.”

“I could even see Thanksgiving, but Christmas? That’s deep.”

“Nah, it’s really not. I told you, she couldn’t afford to get back home, so I just invited her to hang with the fam.”

“Because you’re just so nice, right?”

“Yeah, I am. And you could've given her a chance, she’s good people. I couldn’t just let her be by herself for Christmas.”

Her frown had some serious weight to it. She didn't give a fuck how ‘good’ this girl supposedly was. “Oh, please don’t tell me what I could’ve done. When you could’ve very well left her where she was. She’s a grown ass woman, she would’ve managed.”

“But you ain't mad, though.”

“I’m not.” She rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt. “I’m literally not.”

He kissed his teeth. “I think you might need to reevaluate your definition of ‘literally’.” She glared up at him and a laugh buzzed past his lips. He knew the real reason for her temper, which was why he could find some humor in the mess. “Anyway, how you been? I ain’t seen you in a whole month, girl. You look good.”

“It’s dark in here, Mic, and I’m under the covers. You can’t even see me.” She knew he was just trying to charm his way out of the hot seat.

“I can see you a lil bit. And I don’t even need to see you to know you look good.” He shrugged, trading in his playful tone for a serious one. After all, he was serious. 

She tried to thug it out, but a flattered smile grew from her smugness and she rolled her eyes. A lot less intense than before. “Mhm. Thank you, I guess. You look aight.” Tickled, he smiled enormously, dropping his head into a silent laugh. She took her giggles down into her pillow, reaching up to grab his arm as she buried her face. 

“Wooow.”

“I’m just playing, best friend. You actually lookin’ kinda diesel,” she added, scanning over his upper body more freely this time. 

“Well, you know…” He puffed his chest up, flexing his arms out in front of him. “I been working out, y’ah mean? Lifting real heavy,” he said, bobbing his head with his last couple of words. She fast returned to her pillow while he laughed aloud at his own silliness. “But hey, um, don’t stay away from me that long again, aight?”

“Yeah. You, too.”

He nodded. “And just so you know, it really wasn’t like that with her. Even if I was interested, which I’m not, she has a boyfriend.”

“What does that matter? Niggas cheat every day, B.”

“Look, Mal. I know you know we’ve already had this conversation. So you also know I don’t want that girl.”

“I don’t know nothing.”

“Well, I’m telling you now. I don’t,” he spoke matter-of-factly. “Now what?”

“Whatever.” She sent her eyes on yet another spin, turning away and covering her mouth as a smile was creeping onto her face. 

“Yeah, stop playin’ with me. You know what’s up.”

“Nah, tell me what’s up.”

“I want you.”

A knot jumped into her throat. Her smile fell and she started to shake her head. “Stop it, Micah.”

“No, because I can't remember a time when I haven't.” Shamefully, every woman he’d been with had just been a placeholder. “I need you to know that.”

“Mm mm.” He was still talking when she brought her hands up, clapping them in front of her face before shushing him.

“Why?” The sly grin had made its way to him now. “You just said to tell you.” She averted her gaze. The butterflies in her stomach were instantly at a full ten. “What you scared of? You can fall, mama. I’ma catch you, I promise.”

She tried glancing up at him again and realized just how unprepared for this she was.

“Come on, talk to me.”

“…You're right,” she said, finally facing him as she unknowingly donned her pain. “We did have this conversation. So, why would you show up with another woman?”

He wanted to kick himself. The Christmas blow up had occurred right as they were courting the idea of maybe exploring things past their friendship. It had started as a joke during Thanksgiving. Something slick his mom had said about him ending up alone if he continued to overlook the blessing right in front of him. Micah and Mallory were having a laugh about it later that night when it somehow turned into a bit of a confessional for both of them. Apparently there had been a mutual crush when they were younger, that neither of them knew about at the time. A crush that clearly still had legs. 

“I know how it looks. I know that now. I don’t always stop and think stuff through, but I’m aware that I need to be more mindful when it comes to certain things. Still though, I meant everything I said to you that night.”

“…You know she probably like you.”

“All I'm worried about is you.”

“You hurt my feelings. Real bad.” 

He slid down beside her, needing to be on her level. “I’m sorry, Shug . That's the last thing I was tryna do.” 

When he invited his coworker to join them, he didn’t know Mal would take it so badly. He hadn’t even thought that much into it. In his mind, he was innocently bringing a guest for the holidays. Obviously, Mal did not agree. She’d claimed she wasn’t mad, but proceeded to give both of them the cold shoulder the entire day. And when she left, she barely said goodbye. He’d spoken to her just once since then, right after it had happened, for maybe five or ten minutes. The tone of that conversation was the final indicator that she was gonna need some time.

“…Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah.” 

A deep breath helped her shake some of the nerves, but more than a few remained. Even in near darkness, she still couldn’t look at him. She didn’t think she’d ever be saying these words aloud, but the door had been opened for her to walk on through. “…This past month has been long,” she said, fidgeting with her fingers. 

“It has.”

“I thought about you a lot. Like, every day. Sometimes in ways that I haven't really before. I tried to make myself stop…” she scraped up the courage to lift her eyes and was met with his, “but I couldn't. I wanted to call you so many times, but I was just too angry. And then… I had to be real with myself. Because there’s a reason why I was so upset.”

“…Ok. What’s up?”

“…I love our friendship with my whole soul. Like, you’re really my best friend, for real. But… I think we could be more. I wanna be more.”

Her confession had hit him right in the chest. It almost mirrored exactly what those four weeks had felt like for him. The only difference being the direction of his anger; he was mad at himself, not her. 

“Yeah?” His smile was uncontrollable. He wasn't expecting her to say any of this to him tonight, but the last part was the most unexpected. 

She nodded. “Yeah. I mean, the thought of it crashing and burning has played over and over in my head. But, like… it could also work and I’m gonna try to focus on that.”

“Nah, ain’t nothing about to crash and burn. But I’m ready to try with you.”

“I just don't want it to get weird, you know? Keeping our friendship intact is important to me. Even if this…” 

“You gon’ be my best friend til they put me in the dirt. And then I’ma see if God can help me come find you in the afterlife, because I love you too much to ever be without you… aight?”

“Ok,” she laughed, feeling her face start to warm up. 

“Hold on.” He reached back to turn on the lamp sitting on her nightstand. “There you go. See, I knew I was right.” She smiled sheepishly, sure sweat beads would be lining her forehead soon now that there was no barrier to his fineness. “Look at me, though. I want you to know I’m serious. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Ok. I believe you.”

“Alright.”

“So, now,” she slid closer, draping her arm up over his shoulder, “I can tell you that I never liked any of your girlfriends. Not one.”

“Yeah? Well, I never liked any of them niggas you called yourself datin’ either. Even the ones I acted like I was cool with. Hated them niggas, actually.”

“You don’t like nobody.”

“Facts. But this a whole ‘nother level, shorty.”

She giggled into his chest as he rested his hand on her waist, over her blanket. Then, like two Cheshire Cats, they lay there just grinning at each other. Her concerns were his as well, but he had so much faith in what they could be that he was willing to take the risk. He was also prepared to reassure her every step of the way if that's what she needed. They had too much going for them to not at least try. And, if there were blessings to be had, he didn’t want to be the one standing in the way. She had always felt like one to him. 

“What do we even do now?” she asked. 

“I don’t know. Whatever we want.”

He licked his lips and she found herself needing to use more effort than usual to pull her attention away from them. Pretty and pink, glistening. Thick. Ready. Especially the bottom one. It had been calling out to her for as long as she could remember. He caught on to her struggle right away, as she was doing a horrible job of masking it. Licking her own lips, eyes darting around but only after lingering on his perfect pout for a little longer than she’d like him to know. He grinned in amusement.

“I see you.” Her head fell and they both laughed. “C’mere,” he muttered, lifting her chin and watching her bright eyes lower as he closed in. When their lips touched, heart rates spiked. He interrupted to check the temperature, just to make sure he wasn’t alone. One look and any inhibitions she may have had were no more. She instantly parted his lips with her tongue, melting into the sheets. He stroked her face and clung to her lips like they were keeping him alive. Years and years of terrible longing made them an unbridled pair, but there was a tenderess about it. The way his hand never became as impatient as his kisses. The way her arm hung lazily over his shoulder in sweet surrender.

She let him under the covers and erased the space between them, hurrying her hips toward his. She couldn’t get close enough fast enough. She wanted to be engulfed by him. His kisses slipped down to her neck and a wave of warmth washed over her entire body. The tingles made her toes curl as she tried her hardest to tame the beast looming between her thighs. She forced them together, squirming as his hand neared her ass. A heated internal debate led to her lightly tugging at his waistband. She wanted him desperately and she didn't have to hide it anymore. Again, the door had been opened. 

“I wanna feel it,” she breathed into his ear. 

It took him a second, but his preoccupied brain eventually registered what she had said to him. He eased himself away. They were in her parents’ house, so he had to make sure he wasn’t trippin’. Her lusty eyes bore into his and he froze. 

“…Here?”

“Please, fuck me.”

@afrosandsweatpants @weepingdestinyparadise @dbaileyblog @joannasteez @tgigoldie @honeytoffee @twistedcharismaaa @blackerthings @judymfmoody @lyrarodriguez @fendionmyfeet @fadingbelieverexpert @chaneajoyyy @astoldbychae @cecereads209 @90sisthenew80s @daddiespamm @lovethecheri @xo-goldengirl @miyuhpapayuh @buttrflybby @jiminie-08 @queengodiva619 -taglist-

[khaleesiofalicante]

More thoughts🤭

It was like there were two different people.The boy he fell in love with and the man he married. They were two different people: I've been looking for a way to describe the differences between teenage Mavid and adult Mavid and this is just perfect, because if LBAF 4 had been different, less cruel to them they would've been different-saddest part is that Lance's accident has a huge part in it so Mallory isn't a canon event but them changing so much is, right? Please tell me I'm wrong

Lance appearing like a selfish cunt is Alec's fault (he tried) but he really ended up being a selfless softie because his heart is like his daddy's and papa's

I just need to see that scene with Other Max finding Other David after he ran away (it's haunting me😭) but also I'm sure it changed him a lot and maybe it was something Max had to go through here too but didn't?

Even if time travel is real, you can’t change the past…You can only manipulate the past to change the future. : Finally starting to make some sense of time travel, which just makes me even more scared,I don't know how that's possible at this point

Cute flashback:Theia squealing when she saw Lance when she was a kid, adorable-Theia that's your future husband hunny (because he'll survive)

Madeleine and Joseph:a very good choice for the "It" couple of idris. Theia and Kincaid? Absolutely not, what's wrong with that country?

Madeleine saying she's grateful she said goodbye to her parents and knowing she didn't with Joseph hurts

David had held him that night and whispered to him in the darkness. “You love so much that I sometimes forget there are those who don’t even like me.”: I knew that quote would hurt, and I was right

I will be ignoring all the angst with the trial because my brain hasn't processed yet and I would like to preserve the shreds of sanity I have left thank you very much

Could Arthur's dreams play a major role? Them coming true like Magnus' if they both have a thing with dreams? And Arthur "manifesting" is part of that?

Is the reason Arcaid isn't canon the fact that Kincaid'd existence maybe isn't canon? Since it happened because of Other Max?

Let's talk about Arthur's birth and Selena in other timeline👀

Patiently waiting for Max to kick Lance's ass for pretending to hate David

Random thought but in Arthur chapter it says David's getting sick in winter, is that like Magnus got sick because winter triggered his depression? Or is it because of Lance's birthday?

I feel like what Jackson told Lance in IALS "You're very close to becoming the villan of this story" will turn into a line that will be very important in LBAF

Is Cami close with Camilla?

Not Cami thinking shadowhunters are the superior race:damn who raised this girl?

Yes Cami Theia wants to go to her travel year for a boy-no Cami it's not Kincaid, what happened to parabatais communicating?

Theia wants to get laid Cami. And help obviously-but also get laid. I'm liking Theia more and more

Will Cami think Lance is exploiting Theia when she finds out?

At first I didn't like the idea of Cami going to New York but I couldn't tell why? And then she went all I'll find the entrance to the Pandemonium and that's not good. Thank God Max knows what she's up to

Joan drawing good runes goes to the list of things that will potentially turn into a big thing👀

I was today years old when I realised that LBAF 6 ends on Lance's bday. This is not good. Not good. Not good.

I will stop now because this is again getting very very big. And to no one's surprise I have even more notes, but I will share those another time😅

Also this song reminded me of Blackbane and I really love it: Valentine by Maneskin (Maneskin have a very Blackbane vibe I think👀) Love ya, I really really hope you get better soon🌼

First things first. Maneskin is one of Lance's fave band (and mine lmao). AND VALENTINE IS VERY BLACKBANE FOR SURE. In fact, every lbaf playlist has an important Maneskin song for an important scene. I'll keep the one LBAF 6 to myself for now hehehe.

Let's dive innnnn.

I'm legally not allowed to comment on this. But in my mind mavid is one of those couples who doesn't have a perfect life. Every life (like IALS, FMF, LBAF) has a lot of pain for them to get through as a couple and that's one of their things. It's part of their story. As one of them said (or is yet to say), it's not about living a good life, but just living a one, even a bad one, with you.

these lightwood-banes boys will be death of me sigh

Unfortunately not part of the fic but if inspiration strikes who is to say...(maybe you can give it a shot!)

I can safely say that figuring out the time travel nuances for this fic has broken my brain :)

BABY BLACKBANE OMG? THE CUTEST-

Tincaid or Keia sounds CURSED.

Yeah. I wrote that whole thing in just because it hurt so good ngl.

Mavid angst >>>

Council trials are a different kind of trauma bro seriously

Maybe they can speak to each other in their dreams 👀

Kincaid's existence definitely isn't canon, meaning he doesn't exist in every world - or even fic. Here's some angst for you. He doesn't exist in FMF.

Not very different at all actually. At least, not in any important way - I THINK. Except that I'd say Selena, Max and a couple of other family members must have played a big role in convincing Other David to have the second kid because Other Max wasn't there to do it.

Same. REALLY. Same.

It's both. It's also all the memories associated with Lance's birth itself, not just his birthday/prophecy trigger.

:(

Yes! We are yet to see some of these dynamics. Camila is closest to Cami and Atlas :)

The Clave :/ (but in all honestly, as we are yet to explore, Cami is exact the kind of person that will come out if you are raised in the capital city of your government and grew up in a government building constantly surrounded by politicians and your president father. Unlike Rafael, who actually had a much rounded upbringing, Cami grew up in Idris. It has influenced her personality a lot)

Parabatais communicating? Since when? Never heard of that before.

She knows what she wants and I say good for her. Also damn these blackthorns are such hoes.

I mean she's already kind of thinking it (in the latest chapter she wonders if lance only helped theia/kelpies to manipulate the clave etc)

Cami going to New York is the best that ever happened to her - and for many other people hehehe.

Ohhhhhhh?

What do you mean it ends on Lance's birthday?...Am I missing something 👀

Thank you for all the thoughts. They really made my day - which was otherwise not so good. I really really hope I will get better soon too because I have plans for 2024 and they need me to do some work hehe.

Love you 💜

[sendrew]

What's 100% guaranteed way to make your skeles laugh? :D

Here we go!

San will at least give you a pity laugh for even the lamest attempt at humor. He knows how shitty it feels to not get even a single laugh, and he's not gonna ever leave you hanging. But the way to get him wheezing with laughter? Build on his jokes. Get into a pun-off with him. Take his gag and run with it. He'll literally cry with laughter if you take the joke far enough. And then once you've done it once, you've got a running gag that you can pull out to have him in stitches at any time.

Percival really loves clever puns, and he will be tickled pink if you get good at them. Whether in writing or in spoken words, he'll be giggling over your tricksy wordplay. Especially if it's a little dark humor, though he'll feel rather bad for laughing, in that case. Don't call him out on it or he won't be comfortable laughing in front of you again. He too will give you the pity laugh for bad jokes, but it will be extremely obvious. He's not one for subtlety, this skeleton. So you better sharpen your wits if you want to make Percival laugh!

B is always laughing. He'll be laughing when he greets you, laughing when handing you the lunch he's packed you, laughing as you get into the car or onto the motorcycle together. This skeleton is made for sunshine and smiles and laughter. It's not hard to make B laugh. But to make him wheeze? To make him hold onto you for support as he tries to recover from laughing so hard it hurts? Surprise jokes that come outta nowhere.

Daryl is always smiling, and he looks like he's just a moment away from a smug chuckle at all times. But he rarely laughs aloud. You'll get a silent snicker when you make a silly mistake, or when you make a joke. The way to get him to really laugh is to pull a ridiculous face at him. He'll give you one loud bark of laughter, then blush like a lightbulb and try to play it off as nothing happening.

Rhett loves being happy. He will only laugh when he's actually really happy, so you gotta make sure to make him happy first. Then go in with the situational humor. He loves when you use the objects and world around you to make jokes. If you try to make him laugh when he's not already really happy, the most you'll get is a smirk. But if you give him a kiss and tell him someone's on the phone, then hand him a banana… You will have him laughing for sure.

Parlo enjoys a bit of schadenfreude. He'll laugh if you show him those videos where people fall down in funny ways. Not when animals are the ones getting hurt though. He'll gasp in dismay if a cat falls down, though he'll deny it after. If you really want to commit to the bit, fall down in front of him with something messy in your hands. He'll laugh his ass off, and probably won't be able to help you up, he'll be laughing so hard. He'll apologize after, but he'll still be chuckling a bit while doing so. Felix loves watching old comedies. The really ridiculous slapstick ones. The stupider the better, and the longer the better. He'll laugh extremely hard over all the jokes, no matter how many times he's seen the movie. If you decide to attempt to do the comedy for yourself, in an effort to make him laugh, he might actually hurt himself laughing. He'll cry with laughter if you somehow make the sketch even funnier than it was before.

Oliver giggles with joy every time he sees baby animals. He may also cry with happiness, but that's neither here nor there. Take him to a petting zoo and you will have a laughing, crying skeleton on your hands, while he'll have a lamb or a baby bunny in his hands. He especially loves watching them make fools of themselves trying to run around and do big animal things. He'd be happy to watch little animals doing their thing for hours, and he'll be giggling every time they do something cute.

Mallorie will laugh politely at political cartoons, but that's more of a scoff than anything. If you actually want to make him laugh, get him comfortable - alcohol or a long date would be your best bet - and then ask him to watch one of those newer comedies with you. One with lots of secondhand embarrassment. He loves it. He'll be full on cackling by the time the movie finishes.

Russell is practically made of nervous laughter. If you're looking for that, flirt with him. He'll be laughing in nerves and confusion for quite a while. But the thing that really gets him? Stupid humor. Think twelve-year-old boy humor. Fart jokes and 'your mom' all the way with this skeleton. Be prepared for giggles every single time you fart or burp loudly for the rest of your life.

Cobb is a tough cookie when it comes to laughter. If it's not maniacal, he's not comfortable being open with it. He is also, unfortunately for him, extremely ticklish. Please don't tickle him in public, he'll be so embarrassed. But in private? He actually loves to be able to unwind around you, and if you instigate a tickle war, you'll definitely win. He'll instigate them too, when he feels like losing to you and having fun doing it.

Mack will laugh at any joke you make. No joke is too foolish, and he gets every little funny thing you tell him. He loves laughing, and he loves laughing together with you. He'll take as many opportunities to laugh as he can get. Sometimes he'll just see a random animal or object and start laughing, remembering an old joke you or he or someone told him. Ask him to share it with you. It'll be so ridiculous you'll start laughing too. Johnny Copperhead will laugh every single time he's running away from trouble. He'll pull a job, and laugh while hiding. He'll be street racing, and he'll laugh while peeling out and evading the cops. Johnny Copperhead makes trouble everywhere he goes, and he'll be laughing all the while. If you join him on his misadventures, you'll be laughing too. His laughter is infectious.

Knox Copperhead laughs when he wins. Challenge him to something, and watch him get all competitive and then come out on top, laughing happily to himself. He also laughs at dirty jokes, the dirtier the better. The things he laughs at might make you turn bright red, and then he'll be laughing at you too.

Sparks doesn't actually laugh all that much. He prefers the slow, sultry grin, instead of laughter. But his well-hidden secret is that he laughs like a donkey when he watches bad horror movies. He just finds the scares so funny, and the acting is terrible, and the CGI is so badly-done! It's hilarious, and he'll be laughing so hard you'll worry it must hurt. You'll also find little bits of popcorn everywhere, because he will upend his bowl while laughing.

Pan laughs the most at memes. Send him a funny meme, or a really old one, or a brand new one that makes zero sense, and you'll get him huffing and chuckling. If you send him that 'send this to a person across the room' meme, he'll be in stitches. Vines also do it for him, and the vine-like tiktoks. He loves seeing all the stupidity and ingenuity the mind can create. It's hilariously fascinating.

[aladaylessecondblog]

Faal Hah Wuld, pt. 16

Sadrith,

We found the brush. It's yours when you next visit.

-Vex

----

Dear Sadrith,

I hope this letter finds you well. I write to you now from Solstheim, where I have now been living. I had thought I might continue to travel with the khajiit, but it seems my age is catching up with me. After solving a particularly unsettling situation in Raven Rock, I found myself gifted with a home, and it is here I have settled. Settled, me! It is a ridiculous idea, really, to think that after a lifetime of roving, both with the Urshilaku and the khajiit, I am finally inclined to stay in one place.

Yet here I am. The letter you provided was quite handy when I encountered a brother of that Mallory fellow you spoke of, as it turns out his brother is the town blacksmith, and he showed me how to put up one of those marks your guild is so fond of. So everyone knows I'm not to be stolen from. The guild takes care of their own, he says.

I know you don't do well with long passages so I will end this letter as I always do. Remember that you brought me hope as you brought it to all of Skyrim.

- your loving mother

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

Sadrith gave a slight smile as she looked over the second letter the courier had delivered, and tucked it away with some of the others from her mother. Whenever she was having a particularly bad day she would reread some of them, and...it would help. Sometimes if the day was especially bad it wouldn't be much, but a little spot of light was better than none when her mind darkened.

"What's this about a brush?"

She had been so focused on reading the letters that she'd hardly noticed Torovan as he slipped up behind her.

"None of your--" she tucked away the first letter as Torovan sat down next to her, "Has anyone ever told you that it's rude to look over another person's private letters?"

"My apologies for wanting to know if you were looking over anything more you might have fond on those...golden bandits we encountered."

Sadrith took a deep breath. "Just...don't sneak up on me like that. And it's...a delicate letter. From someone I'd not like you to yap about. Oddly enough, it's from someone a lot like you."

"And how might that be, exactly?" Torovan took a sip from the mug she ordered for him and gave a brief wince.

"Stick up her ass. S'pose she's got a reason for it, though, so I imagine you do too." She shrugged, and went on nibbling at the meal before her. Her appetite was deader than dead, but she was forcing food down knowing they'd have to go through Helgen and the mountains...if she didn't eat, there'd probably be hell to pay later.

And she could not show weakness to this one-eyed mer. Whatever reason he might have for acting the way he did.

"Sadrith!"

"Ugh," Torovan said under his breath, "Do you know everyone in this forsaken village?"

"As a matter of fact I do." She gave him a brief smile, which seemed to surprise him. She looked off to the side to see Camilla, emerging from the room that had once led to Delphine's secret staircase. "Camilla! I've heard congratulations are in order."

"Oh...yes." For a moment her face shifted about. "Well, after seeing the games Sven and Faendal were playing, I realized...I wanted someone unlikely to do that."

"Orgnar is a man of few words, but all of them are straight-forward. You couldn't have chosen better. Orgnar, you happy?" she looked to the bartender.

"Happy as a man ought to be when he's married," the man replied, without looking up from the glass he was cleaning. There was a slight mote of emotion--small, but there. He was happy, despite not showing it very well.

"I'm glad to hear it. Perhaps you'd like a wedding gift?"

"You're spending money here, that's all the gift I need."

"Fair enough." Sadrith gave a little laugh.

Torovan sat beside her a little while longer as Camilla chattered about how things were going. How Orgnar had built a basement and how being allowed to actually DO things to help out had been wonderful. Sadrith struggled to pay attention to it but she nodded, and smiled, and retained enough to make small remarks now and then. On the whole, when Camilla left to head to get some salmon from the river, she seemed quite pleased with the conversation.

"She seems happier now. You're lucky, Orgnar."

"Sure am."

Sadrith went back to trying to eat. Torovan said something about going to pick over the meager offerings at Lucan's shop, and after denying her saying she'd go with him, he waved off her concern and left.

Something else is going on here, it must be. He doesn't seem to need or want me taking him to Riften. Why am I here?

He was clearly an enemy of the Thalmor, as was Sigurd...so there was no purpose in having her along. Unless it was simply to have someone else to watch his back. But in that case, why not simply hire any random mercenary? There would be plenty of them who would be happy to take a few hundred gold to make the trip. Perhaps they wanted to make contact with the Thieves Guild and saw her as the in...or...

As no answer revealed itself, and the matter wasn't especially pressing to her mind, she eventually drifted back to forcing herself to eat the meal she'd already paid for.

She managed to get down the rest of the salmon, and sat sipping at a mug of ale, still thinking over Vex's letter. The brush. Finally. After months of searching and paying for information and shelling out damn near the entire fortune she'd amassed from the scales and bones of dragons--the brush was hers.

"Strongest you have."

The voice was all khajiiti accents, and sounded off so suddenly beside her that she nearly dropped her drink. The khajiit--a calico dotted here and there with dark spots, clad in a black robe that seemed to shimmer with stars -- took a seat beside her and gestured to Orgnar.

A lone cat that isn't M'aiq...?

"That'll be the argonian bloodwine. Expensive."

Some gold was produced. Orgnar took it and got out the large aqua bottle, then poured a small glass.

"That's always a good choice," Sadrith said, raising her mug slightly. "Useful for breathing underwater..."

"Not that I need such things." The khajiit finished the glass, and poured himself another. He turned to her, and gave a toothy grin. "Perhaps you'd like to share in it?"

Something about him felt...off. But that was a feeling she had fairly often, so she brushed it aside.

"Ah, no, I don't want to take something so expensive," she waved absently, "You've paid some pretty coin for that..."

There was a feeling that she'd missed something. Forgotten something, and she hated that she couldn't figure out what in oblivion it was.

"And it's rude to refuse a gift."

"You're right," she replied, and slid her mug over. "Not too much, though, I've got to get on the road soon."

And, she added mentally, for the skooma to actually work, I need to be sober. Trying to drink while taking skooma never ended well; she seemed to get drunk faster and stay drunk longer.

She shut her eyes momentarily, and found herself taking in a sharp breath when upon opening them she saw the hands holding the bottle of bloodwine were covered in black fur instead of the mottled color they had been before.

"The scent is a bit strong," the khajiit said, "Perhaps I should have let it breathe for longer."

"It's fine." Sadrith gulped hard, and forced herself to look up at his face. It was dark too, just like the hands...paws...she'd just looked at.

Gods, not again. This isn't supposed to happen unless I take too much. It's fine. It's fine, it's only his fur color. It's FINE.

Deep breath. It didn't help. It never did.

"And what brings you to Riverwood?" she asked, in a vain attempt to stave off her sudden bout of nerves. "It's not often one meets a khajiit that's not part of a caravan."

"A job," he replied, gesturing after slowly draining another glass of the bloodwine. "There's someone I mean to keep an eye on...track."

"Sounds a hazardous job. I hope your quarry's not hard to track." Perhaps this was the one Sigurd had warned of? Maybe it wasn't only the Thalmor he'd been worried about.

"On the contrary, my quarry is quite easy to track."

A blink. Now he was no longer a khajiit, despite the persistence of the accent, but now an Altmer. Yet the robe remained the same, distracting in its dark way, glittering here, darkening there...

"...so obvious, a child could do it."

"Oh? Then why have you not yet caught them? Assuming you wish to, I mean. It's not really my business, I'm sorry, but you've piqued my curiosity."

Keep it together, keep it together

"I take no offense." Another grin. "In fact, I should be glad of your help."

For a brief second Sadrith swore his teeth were longer. She shoved the thought back. This was a skooma hallucination, nothing more.

Act as though nothing is wrong. You can do this, Sadrith. You must. If Torovan returns and you're still in this state--

"You are the dragonborn after all, as much set to wandering as any caravan of khajiit."

White fur, black spots. The fear was peaking and she reached for the bottle.

"How can I help you, then?"

The khajiit took the bottle from her, and poured her out a bit more bloodwine.

"Tell me how I might deal with someone on the run, once they are caught? I never fail to catch my prey. Either I find them sooner due to a combination of skill and luck, or later, when they become aware I am following..."

"And begin to panic? They get more dangerous that way. I should know, with all the bandits I've collected bounties on. Got a few scars from...from cornering them."

"Yet you always come out the victor." Again that toothy grin that unsettled her. "The magnificent dragonborn...bandit killer, dragonslayer, feller of foes from Markarth to Windhelm. A bloody force that Boethiah herself would be proud of."

"Because I am here, and they are not." Sadrith thought of the book regarding the summoning of Boethiah, desperate to think of anything but the chaos unfolding before her. "I would prefer to avoid killing if possible, but...some people make it necessary."

"You see it as a duty, then. Perhaps the Dark Brotherhood would suit you."

"I hardly think a group of assassins know much about duty. Devotion to sending people to the void by bloody murder, maybe."

Another glass.

"And I eliminated them. I don't care for Sithis and his ilk."

Sadrith blinked, and the khajiit's fur changed again, back to the black.

"No, clearly not, if you so eagerly move to commit such a feat. But I am curious...do you have no fear of death? Most would balk at the danger."

"Danger is in my blood." She laughed nervously, trying desperately to shake off the rising anxiety. "I'm not afraid of dying, I'm afraid of not living."

It's only your mind playing tricks on you. That's it. That's all. He's a normal man and you're just seeing things.

"Everyone is afraid of death. Everyone wants to go in their bed, at a great age, surely you are no different."

Why do you CARE?

It didn't matter. There was nothing outside her head that scared her more than what was inside, anyway.

Blink. Tan fur, white hands. Paws.

What is HAPPENING? Has Shegg--Sheogorath come to claim my mind?

"Excuse the dark and dreary talk," the khajiit finally said, "I've taken so many bounties my mind thinks mainly in metaphors of death...however chaotic they might seem to those with a heroic bent, like yourself. But tell me...I am curious, I ask this question of everyone. How do you imagine you will die?"

"In glorious battle defending someone, or something, I imagine," Sadrith replied easily. "I spend a lot of time adventuring...so it only makes sense it should be how I leave the world."

"A woman of Shor's own heart."

Orgnar dropped something, and as he muttered bent over to clean it up. Sadrith finished what remained of her drink, and took another deep breath.

"Dragonborn!"

Torovan's voice rang out suddenly from the doorway. Sadrith looked back, and waved him over, turned--

--and dropped her own mug.

The seat beside her was empty. The only hint that anyone had been there was the cup beside her own, and the half-drunk bottle of argonian bloodwine. She handed the mug back to Orgnar and muttered some excuse of needing to get moving.

I was seeing things. Hearing things. That's it. That's all. I just--don't remember ordering the wine. I must have done that myself, and just...I just forgot. ...keep it together, keep it together!

"If you're sufficiently pickled, we should get a move on."

"Right. Right, yes." Sadrith was for once glad of Torovan's stern orders; they simplified things quite a bit. She gathered her things and headed for the door with him.

"I hope you've not made yourself unfit for travel."

"Some ale and not even half a bottle of bloodwine won't do much to me," she replied, and glanced here and there as they went outside, wondering if the hallucinations would stop with that khajiit. "Your concern is...is touching, of course."

Sadrith saw nothing more, though she was still looking for anything out of the ordinary.

She forced a smile for him. Not until they passed through Riverwood's back gate, on the road to Helgen, did he speak again.

"Tell me," he said, "How is it you are so undaunted by insults or slights against your character? Where is the desire to defend your honor?"

"I grew up in a khajiit caravan. The petty things you throw at me don't compare to the things I was called as a child. Or the things I've heard from Thalmor."

The gentle sound of the running river near them soothed her mind just slightly, and she tried to focus it to further ease her unsteady mind. But Torovan spoke again, breaking her fragile concentration.

"Do you often provoke them, then? No...no, don't bother answering that question. Perhaps what I should ask is what you've done to earn their ire."

Sadrith latched onto the topic eagerly. A distraction, that was what she needed. Something to put the khajiit from her mind--a strategy she often employed in distressing circumstances like these. "Are you sure you want to hear? Will you insult me over that also? If you do...I beg you to do better at it."

"I would be pleased to hear it, actually. They have not made themselves popular, and it is always good to hear of such people being...taken down a peg."

"You? Enjoying humiliating one of them? I'm surprised you wouldn't simply leave that sort of thing to the Archmage. The nords have more of a cause to hate the Thalmor than we do."

"The enemies of my friend are my enemies also," Torovan stated evenly. "His devotion to my welfare is such that it could be no other way. I would not be standing here before you if he hadn't taken such pains to save my life."

She thought again of Lydia.

"And how do I know that you are not some part of a Thalmor plot, hmm?" She then realized her error late, and quickly tried to correct herself, cover it up, with, "The letter we picked off that group seems a point in your favor, of course. But you did say I shouldn't trust you, and I hesitate to do it anyway. Tall, dark, brooding - you are the sort of man I read of in novels, who usually has some danger attached to him."

"Brooding!" Torovan laughed. "Now you have gone too far. I do not brood. Will you answer my question or no? What have you done to upset the Thalmor, besides that business with the embassy?"

"I broke a nord out of one of their fortresses," she replied, "His mother asked I look into his disappearance...and some clues lead me to a fortress in the Northwest."

"Ah, so Sigurd has YOU to blame for their increasing presence in the Sea of Ghosts."

"For WHAT?" Sadrith burst out. "Are the Thalmor skulking around Winterhold? If he needs them cleared out, I could do it as easily as I did at the fortress."

"All of them on your own?"

"If need be."

"You are every bit as foolish as Sigurd once was. He too is eager to take command and right the wrongs and ills he sees before him. Do you think it your responsibility as he does, or do you simply like the glory?"

"Both," Sadrith replied. "To see a smile, or relief, on a face and know I was the reason for it - that is what I want to see when I enter a village, or one of the cities here."

"You could settle right now and be satisfied with all you've done...and still see those looks when you receive visitors." Torovan went on in the same vein, but she tuned most of it out. "You killed the World-Eater, and need do nothing more."

"If I don't, then who will?" Sadrith shrugged. "I'm not made to be idle...stay in one place. I get an itch under my skin to move if I try. Natural, considering I grew up in a caravan with a mother who herself hailed from an ashlander tribe. Wandering is in my blood."

"Indeed it is."

They were silent until reaching the Guardian Stones.

"You clearly do not need me," she said suddenly, stopping to look at the Thief stone, "And I know you won't tell me the reason for my being here...but I know there must be something else."

"The reason is that my friend is overprotective of me, and wants me looked after more than I feel is necessary. With the dragons about, he wanted extra caution taken."

"You do not mean me harm, do you?"

"Of course not."

She stared a little while. The anxiety was finally receding but all she could think was--the hallucination of the khajiit was so contained within the Sleeping Giant and nothing else outside it had been seen, perhaps it was merely having met Delphine there that kicked it off? The unpleasant memory of that woman, maybe, that stirred her skooma-addled mind into a frenzy without her even realizing it? At times her body seemed wholly disconnected from her mind, and where she felt no inward worry her body would refuse to believe the fact and feel its effects anyway. But she hadn't felt any such thing in the inn...no nausea in her stomach or ache of the head, nothing of the sort.

What then had caused the hallucination? She wasn't worried, truly, she merely wanted to understand. To prevent it happening again.

"If you meant me harm, you would have done it already, with all the chances you've had. You could've drained me dry and left me in the Barrow and no one would have been the wiser. Hungry as you were..."

That reminded her of something else. Another subject to stop herself thinking overmuch on the hallucination.

"I'm curious," she said, "I've never had the...appetites that those like you have. Never had to tell the difference between difference kinds of blood...what makes mine any different than the regular? Is it more filling?"

"In a way," Torovan replied, as she turned and lead him further up the path. "I cannot strike the feeling from my mind that I have tasted it somewhere before."

His tone here made her wish she could see his face.

"Unless you have preyed on me in the night some time ago, I doubt it. Not that I would say no to your bowing over me as you did before."

"I say again: you trust too easily. You seem aware of the danger I pose and yet you flaunt it as a less experienced mercenary would. Do you think yourself safe from harm?"

"I think what is outside is less frightening than what is inside." The words were out before she could stop them, and the hope she felt that he hadn't heard her properly was immediately dashed when he turned to face her. She hunted frantically for something to say and settled on, "Think what you will of me, but if I should set the safety of an entire province on your shoulders I'd wager your mind would not be as pleasant a place as before."

Torovan didn't seem to have a response.

"At any rate," she went on, "I prefer to think of more pleasant things, if I can. It keeps the mind busy, stops it from taking all the weight at once. Joy in little places - that helps me bend, rather than break."

"And here I thought you to be the sort of person information must be coaxed from," Torovan replied, "I see now I need not have worried. Information gushes from your mouth like a river. Reckless, talkative...it is a wonder you have maintained a reputation for discretion with qualities like these."

"Secret keeping is not my job, and there hasn't yet been something too important that I must keep quiet." Aside from Delphine and Esbern's locations, of course. "I leave that to others of the Guild."

"Suppose you came into information that would enable you to relieve Tamriel of some Thalmor? Would you share THAT?"

"If the one from whom I learned it desired me to. When I hear of Thalmor, however, I tend to..." She drifted off. "I have said enough."

"No, tell me," Torovan said, his voice suddenly sharp. "When you think of Thalmor, you do what?"

"Why should I, when you tell me nothing of yourself? Am I being judged, is that what this is? You want something more to..." She took a deep breath, and tried to calm herself down. Getting worked up could only end poorly. Maybe she'd see that khajiit again, or maybe as a treat a dragon that wasn't actually there. "Fine. When I hear of Thalmor...I get angry. A bully should be smacked down, and if no one else has the wherewithal or ability to do it, then..."

"Then it shall be you?"

"Then it shall be me." She gave a momentary grin, wider than her usual. "Not that I would say no to aid or guidance, but who would be willing to help me? Certainly not General Tullius or any of the Imperials."

Sadrith could not stop, could not make herself stop. Her mouth refused the very idea.

"Ulfric is being led by a leash he cannot even see, so he is no better. Not to mention the dislike his ilk have for mine. He would be the better choice for..."

And then just as suddenly it shifted, and she could find herself just as unwilling to speak. On a septim it pivoted, and she felt all the embarrassment of it.

"You've give this a lot of thought, haven't you? Perhaps the imperial dogs and Stormcloaks should let YOU figure this all out."

"I'm not a leader," Sadrith said, "That is the problem of this whole thing. I could sort it, but I don't want to be king or queen or anything like that. I don't wish to lead armies, perhaps a charge, but not the whole army. I'm more of a soldier than a general. A weapon to be turned against the one who needs reminding what happens when you poke sleeping dragons."

Oh, yes, how she would love to show the Thalmor that...

As they approached Helgen, her mind was alight with possibilities for scaring them--what good would it be to defeat them without some element of terror to make them regret all they'd done? All they were trying to do?

Torovan brought her back to reality.

"I see I shall have to get back out my larger fur robe," he said, grumbling at the cold around them as he stopped and reached into one of his bags. "I will be surprised if you can make it half the way across this accursed back way before you start ruing the day you took this job."

"Pay no attention to any grumbling. I complain, but I do what must be done anyway." Sadrith shrugged. "The issue will be seeing once we get farther up."

She took out her map, and pointed to a spot on it, which he leaned over to glance at.

"There's a cave called Haemar's Shame around this spot. We might not entirely NEED to stop for a night's rest there but it'll be a good spot to stop and warm up before we go on. Shake the chill out of our bones and all. I'll gather up some kindling as we go and we'll have ourselves a good little fire."

"And then?"

"We can make a quick stop at Ivarstead." Sadrith looked up then, towards the gates of Helgen.

"You picked a bad time to get lost, friend!"

"And a stop here to get you something to eat."

The gates swung open, and two bandits charged forward.

Torovan raised his hands, charged a fire spell, and gave a dark laugh that left her tingling.

Tall, dark, and deadly

She shoved the map in her pocket and readied her sword, eager now to blot out not fears of hallucination, but the mental image of the torso beneath Torovan's robes.

[loverlexi]

Hi Taylor!

I’m messaging you on an attempt that you’ll maybe somehow see this. Mallory and I have been friends for YEARS, we became best friends in middle school because of you, we would talk about how much we loved you and your music. We made our moms play Debut and Fearless in the car on the way to school. We went to Target and bought the Speak Now CD after school together.

When you came to Indianapolis, (our hometown show) for the Speak Now Tour, we made it our goal to get to see you live. We were freshman and worked at our high school’s concession stand so we could raise money to buy tickets. That became our little tradition.

We skipped school and traveled to Indy for the Red Tour, and once we graduated, we drove from Ball State to the 1989 tour (where we saw you in the pit!) , and while we were starting our lives we made it to rep tour as well! Now we are married and have babies, but you have been a constant in our lives nonetheless! We had cocktails and had a little listening party to folklore and evermore, and while I was on my honeymoon midnights came out (but you can bet your ass I was FaceTiming Mallory that night so we could listen to the album) 😂 When eras tour tickets first came out Mal had just had a baby and I had just gotten pregnant, so we weren’t able to make it to the same show. She ended up going to Columbus and I went to Detroit. It felt wrong not to see the show together, but we made sure to FaceTime during the surprise songs!

So imagine our excitement when you announced some shows in Indianapolis! As you know with the Ticketmaster fiasco, we were waitlisted for the Indy shows. Our husbands and siblings even tried to get us tickets. We are heartbroken that you will be in our hometown for 3 nights and we won’t be there, especially since it’s commemorating all of your eras and it feels like our childhood. 🥲 I’m writing to you to see if there’s any way we could be there. I would buy resale tickets but they are INSANE and so many people have gotten scammed. I don’t care if it’s the last seat in the nosebleeds behind the stage, I would love to surprise Mal with tickets. It just feels like tradition.

We love love love you & always will 🫶🏼

Lexi

@taylorswift @taylornation

[wirexbiter]

Mallory let out a soft huff of a laugh at that. "I'll let you have that one," he conceded. Mallory liked math, it was true, but put an anatomy poster in front of him and he was a hopeless loss cause. What he did know about anatomy, however, was decidedly not PG-13. "I guess I'll just have to take gorilla as a term of endearment."

He'd been called worse, so he'd take it.

Mallory hummed. "Ain't exactly on the list of contenders for Elijah's employee of the month," he replied through a slight smile. If anything, he was sure he was a right pain in Elijah's ass. If he wasn't so useful, he was sure the man would have kicked his ass already.

Now, don't get him wrong, Mallory knew how to tussle, but Elijah gave off the very distinct vibe he'd wipe the floor with Mallory's ass. He really had no intention to find out, either.

"Yeah, yeah. Add it to the list, I'd love to see Landrum shit a brick over your requests." He always gave Mallory attitude, anyway, when he asked for certain things. But, ah, Grant, while a cold bastard, probably annoyed people a considerable amount less than Mallory.

He paused, however, when Grant started to rifle through the drawers, procuring two cellphones and tossing them one at at time over to him. He caught them, the slight surprise something he couldn't keep from his face.

Alright, he'd admit it, maybe Grant wasn't so terrible after all.

"Thanks," he said, meaning it. He placed the two cellphones beside the other parts of his radio with a satisfied hum.

His smile only grew when Grant offered up a math problem. "Come on," he drawled. "128. Easy." He titled his head slightly, mischief alight in his eyes. "You even trying to get me naked?"

"I  said  what  I  said.  Tits.  They  are  too  bouncy  and  round  to  be  called  anything  else.  I  am  the  medical  doctor  here  doesn't  that  make  me  the  expert  on  anatomy?"  Grant  had  his  own  shit  eating  grin  on  his  face  now  resting  his  hand  under  his  chin  as  he  regarded  the  other.  "Just  revel  in  the  compliment,  gorilla.  You  won't  get  many  from  me."

That  was  the  upside  to  the  motley  crew  they  had,  most  of  them  were  most  toothsome.  All  of  them  tantalizing  in  their  own  ways  of  course,  though  he  did  have  to  say  the  hygiene  was  lacking  in  some  of  them.  Nothing  he  couldn't  fix  and  it  wasn't  as  if  he  was  married  anymore.  Grant  looked  down  at  his  finger,  the  white  band  where  the  ring  had  made  a  tan  line  still  very  visible  on  his  finger.

"I  think  raiding  an  Amazon  warehouse  might  be  a  good  idea  in  general  though  a  bit  of  a  shit  shoot.  Who  knows  what  you  might  find."  he  said  with  a  little  hum  as  he  thought  about  it.  He  was  sure  there  was  value  to  be  had  there,  at  the  very  least  some  first  aid  supplies.  "You  should  pitch  that.  There  is  a  short  list  of  things  I  think  we  could  use  here  in  medical."

With  the  mention  of  a  cellphone  he  rolled  his  chair  over  to  his  desk  in  the  corner  and  riled  through  the  drawers  grabbing  two  cellphones  and  tossing  them  to  Mallory  underhanded  one  at  a  time.  "Take  those.  One  was  the  hospitals,  the  other  was  mine  but  I  don't  need  them  now  I  am  sure  we  should  use  the  rechargeable  batteries  for  something."  What  was  left  on  his  personal  phone  anyway?  Photos  perhaps.  Videos  of  the  world  before.  He  missed  his  parents  but  they  had  died  while  he  was  still  in  medical  school,  all  for  the  best.  They  should  not  be  subjected  to  this  grotesque  world.

"Very  well.  What  is  the  square  roots  of  16,384."  Grant  had  never  liked  math,  it  was  necessary  in  science  so  he  learned  it  but  there  was  never  any  joy  in  it.  He  was  sure  Mallory  would  find  his  question  lack  luster.

[rarepairnation]

5, 6, & 29 for the ao3 asks?

i said "i'll do these right before the new year to give myself time to finish a few more things" and then i promptly let the new year pass without doing them. anyway here i am now doing them <3 thank u anna for sendin one though !! [ao3 wrapped]

5: What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

dreamers to come (patia and maya friendship fic) i think! i outlined a large amount of it in text messages to a friend while like. crying in bed after the calamity finale and then the writing process kicked my ass so i think specifically the person who told me they'd reread it a bunch of times came as a Surprise (also because calamity was brand new lol)

6: Favorite title you used

two shadows burning out a glory day (bond mallory/tanner inception au) because i've wanted to use that line as a title for years and years (ever since i saw another author in the bond fandom use it, ngl) and i finally got around to it this year

29: Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

im indecisive so here are three of them. i almost did five and then narrowed it down to the ones that i had further explanations for

"Tanner pulls him close, and the wail of the demolition alarms echoes around them.  They don’t move, as the walls collapse. As the floor falls out from under their feet. Tanner keeps holding him, and Mallory keeps holding on."

from two shadows burning out a glory day specifically because the idea for the substitute for the train in breaking out of limbo to be the demolition of the old mi6 building put me absolutely flat on my fucking back i think i yelled loud enough for my neighbour to hear

"He had prepared himself, ten times over. But now that he is up against it - he knows that he has always had Gondor in the palm of his hand and yet it was never going to be enough to replace Boromir. He is not ready to be the Captain of Gondor, alone."

from dreamlike, and yet no dream (lotr faramir foresees boromir's death) specifically because i placed it directly after boromir dies as a direct callback to the line earlier in the fic "One retaking the city, the other saving their lives in abandoning it. The Captains of Gondor, and for her glory only do they fight." i just think the plural change there....Ough.

"The rolling tide sweeps over his head; caresses the insides of his ribs like an apology. It is doing the same to countless other bodies, countless great halls and taverns and meeting-places, countless horns and harps and lutes. The water will whisper of the fall long past the reshaping of the world. The water will remember him, even if it is the only one who will."

from dark water burning through your bloodline (lotr faramir dreams of the fall of numenor) the sea as memory is literally..So....something that big shouldn't be able to get inside you. something that big will live in you and your sons and your sons' sons and on and on. when a civilization falls it is not only the people who are remembered. Agh.

[patrice-bergerons]

Ooooooft okay. How about 'you don't mean that' for the angst prompt?

James follows his nose to the kitchen where the smell of bacon that woke him ever so gently is drifting from and finds Felix standing over the hob.  He takes a moment just to watch him with his bare feet and the ribbon of his apron tied right above his shapely ass, the outlines of his muscular back still visible through his tee-shirt and his light beard exquisite even in the grey morning light.  

Felix showed up one day last week at his door, the picture of innocence. 

He was, so he said, in London for work and wasn’t it wonderful that James, who is laid out for at least another month with a banged up knee among other injuries, happened to be home too? 

He hasn’t worked for a single hour since but he has hanged the art James acquired and never bothered to put up, bought flowers for the living room which sit brightly on the counter still, cooked breakfasts and dinner, and subjected James to so many Star Wars films the Darth Vader theme started playing in his head yesterday when Mallory gave him a call.  It’s the most fucking boring they have ever been.

“What’s for breakfast?” 

Felix grins at him without the slightest hint of surprise like he bloody well knew James was standing there the entire time and James bristles a little at having lost this round of espionage.  

“Bacon and eggs—the breakfast of champions.”  He wrinkles his nose.  “And some beans for those of us with no taste.”

At this point James knows better than to ask after the possibility of adding some grilled mushrooms to the mix.  He hobbles over to the open kitchen—Felix is wearing his tacky ‘kiss the cook’ apron again and he thinks he might as well oblige.

“Maybe I will move in with you when I retire.”

Felix points his spatula at him.

“You don’t mean that—I would make a terrible husband.”

We are married now are we, James thinks as he nuzzles Felix’s neck, his arms wrapping around his middle from the behind.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.  For one, I am never home.”

He presses a kiss onto Felix’s pulse point and delights in the feeling of his heart beating against his lips.

“I could trot around Latin America with you.”

“I’m sure the CIA would love that,” Felix laughs easily.  “I’m very secretive.”

He turns the bacon—streaky, naturally—on the griddle and James presses another kiss, this time to the corner of his lips.

“A virtue, not a flaw.”

“I hate the Beatles.”

Felix angles his neck just enough to meet James in a proper kiss for a long, brilliant moment before he nudges him to step away—he needs to get paper towels to line the plate that will welcome the bacon.

“I hate them too,” James says as he obliges.

“I would never eat haggis.”

James gasps in mock offence.

Felix turns to him from the plate.  “See, I told you it would never work out.”  He is smiling.  It reaches his eyes and in his eyes is the glimpse of a faraway land.  One in which sex—and mind, brilliant sex still—can wait for breakfast and Eve tears up at their wedding.  It would be an intimate ceremony; he would take Felix to his own tailor for his tux and they would get coffee afterwards.  The man wears off the rack suits.  Maybe they would get a dog.  They would have barbecues in their backyard and James would flirt with the guests but only let Felix unravel him at night until there is nothing of him left.  

He carries the plate of bacon to the kitchen table and sits down, his injured knee demanding reprieve.

He would drink too much and they would fall asleep in front of the telly.  They would be happy.  It would never work out.

[freeabortionslol]

The Night We Met

Max Fried X Reader

I walked into the loud party hearing sounds coming from all sides of the room. It felt like I was jumped back into high school. I was in Georgia that weekend for an interview, and it coincidentally fell on the same weekend as Ozzie Albies big party. Ozzie knows everyone that has ever lived and I don’t know how. I’m an actress. I’ve appeared in many large projects such as the marvel films, shameless, beautiful boy, american horror story, and the bling ring. I remember the exact night I met Albies. It was the golden globe awards and he showed up as someone’s date, but I can’t remember who’s. He came up to me and we talked for a bit and he got my phone number.

When I got this invitation, I wasn’t planning on coming, but I didn’t realize I would already be in georgia. The whole house smelled of booze and vodka. I did a lap around and saw many familiar faces I wasn’t expecting to see. Ozzie really does know A LOT of people. I couldn’t find anyone i was particularly close with, so I headed to the kitchen to get a drink. surprisingly, there wasn’t anyone in the kitchen except for one guy. He was tall, brunette, with blue eyes. He was wearing a hoodie and a braves hat on backwards. I recognized him in almost two seconds; Max Fried. I grabbed a sprite from the fridge when I turned to him.

“Do you think Ozzie will mind if i took one of his sprites?”, I asked.

“Nah absolutely not. He doesn’t care.”

“Cool. I don’t really a feel like drinking tonight.”

“Same here.”, he shook his cup of hawaiian punch. “I’m Max by the way.”

“Fried. Right?”

“Yep, and you’re…”

“Y/n.”, I finished his sentence.

“L/n. I love your work. Especially Shameless. I always watch it when I have time off.”, this was surprising since most guys bring up Marvel and then tell me why my character is irrelevant.

“No shit!”, I laughed. “What season are you on?”

“Season 7. The show is really good, and you’re super talented.”

“I could say the same about you. I’ve been a Braves fan since I was a kid, and you’re hands down one of the best pitchers on the team right now.”

“I thought you were from New York?”

“Well I was born here and then moved up when I was about 7”

Max and I talked for about 45 minutes in the kitchen. People would casually come in for another drink like, Chloe Grace Moretz, Lil Nas, and surprisingly Morgan Wallen. Max joked about how people down south are in love with terrible country music. He was really sweet and cute, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.

“YOOO MAX! WHATS UP MAN?”, Dansby Swanson walked into the kitchen arms open and gave Max a hug.

“Hi Dansby.”, I said to him.

“Y/N!! I DIDNT KNOW YOU WERE HERE OR I WOULD’VE COME AND SAID HI!”, He came up and hugged me. I was friends with Dansby’s girlfriend Mallory Pugh, so Dansby and I know each other fondly.

He turned back to Max “Yo Maxy, you hittin that shit?”, Dansby was trying to whisper, but he was clearly wasted so it came out as more of a yell.

“OKAY Swanson let’s get your ass out of here.”, Max said trying to shut him up.

“My ubers waiting outside anyways, so love you both! Farewell!”, Dansby blew kisses at both of us as he exited.

Max was surprisingly able to bounce the conversation back after that awkward encounter. He was shocked by how much I knew about baseball since I never showed my interest in it publicly.

“Do you play any?”

“Yeah sometimes with friends. I was never into softball though so I nev-” We suddenly heard a loud crash coming from the living room.

We both ran out to see what it was. I looked around to see a drunk Ozzie Albies laying on the floor groaning and holding his stomach. Max and I ran up to him since we were the only sober ones in the house.

“Holy shit, Albies! What the hell happened?!”, Max asked him.

“Well, I went to the top of my balcony to make a toast and say thank you to all the people for coming, and then BOOM! I fell.”

I looked down and saw that Ozzy had a huge ass cut on his leg. He must of got it from hitting the coffee table.

“Oh fuck. We gotta clean this up. Where’s the bathroom?”, I asked frustratedly.

“upstairs. first door on the left.”

Max grabbed Ozzy’s arms while I grabbed his legs. The party went on in the living room since people only payed attention to his fall for about thirty seconds. We carried Ozzie all the way up to the bathroom which was huge and modern. He had a jacuzzi and a walk in shower. We lay him down on the floor and I walked up to the cabinet to find gauze.

“You know y/n, I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight”, Ozzie said while slurring his speech.

“Well I wasn’t, but I just happened to be in town.”, I looked over to Max and he smiled at me. Albies looked at Max, then me, and then back to Max.

“WOAH WOAH WOAH ARE YOU GUYS-”

“No.”, Max replied

“Not yet.”, I continued. He gave me a soft smirk. It was clear that there was something there. I looked into his blue eyes and starred at his hair under the cap. I’ve always had shit luck with guys but he seemed sweeter than the rest.

“Shit Ozzie.”

“What? What’s wrong?”, he looked terrified.

“You have no peroxide. Which means…”

“We’ll have to use rubbing alcohol.”, Max continued my sentence. I could see the terror on Albies face as I moved closer with the bottle.

“Do you want something to bite down on? Cause this is gonna hurt like a bitch.”, I asked and he nodded. I handed him a towel and he put it in his mouth. I squatted down and started to pour the alcohol on his cut. I saw tears bubbling in his eyes as he felt the urge to scream. “We’re almost done buddy don’t worry.” I finished up the last of it and ran to grab the bandage. “There you go! Good as new.”, I rustled his hair.

“Now just please no more jumping off balconies.”, Max added.

“I didn’t jump!”, Ozzie was arguing like a little kid. I was getting up from my squat when I fell on my ass. The rubbing alcohol spilled all over my shirt.

“Fuck.”, the entire rest of the bottle had poured on top of me. I sat up and started waving my shirt to see if it would dry, but it was no luck since I was covered in it. Albies had passed out on the floor, so I didn’t want to take any of his clothes from his drawers.

“um uhh- stay here and try to wash it off of your skin i’ll be back.”, Max said as he hurried out the door. I took my shirt off leaving only my bra to cover my top half. I grabbed a wash rag and started rubbing the alcohol off my neck hoping the smell would go away. Some people liked it, but i couldn’t stand the stench that alcohol left behind it just reminds me of sanitizer.

“Hey- oh sorry”, Max walked in not realizing i’d be shirtless. “I uh- I brought you this. It was the only thing I had in my car. It was from the last game we played.”, He handed me a white braves jersey with the name “Fried” and the number “54”. I threw it on quickly and looked at myself in the mirror. It was huge and went past my shorts. That was a good thing though because it was comfy and smelled like Max’s cologne.

“I love it. I hope you know i’m keeping this forever”

“Well Snitker’s not gonna be very happy about that, but i’ll tell him the bad news myself.”, We laughed. He seemed genuine and caring. I had been so lonely these past few months just so busy with work that I forgot what it felt like to have someone like this. To be fair, I hadn’t had a guy like this in ages since all the ones i’ve dated were douche bags.

“I kinda don’t want to be here anymore. You know surrounded by all these people. Do you maybe wanna get something to eat?”, he asked me.

“I would love that, but where we would go?”

“The only place that’s open at this hour, duh.”

“Waffle house?”

“Waffle house.”

[zepskies]

Aw man, I absolutely loved this chapter, but it also made me dread the finish line...

The opening after the dream was, unfortunately, everything I thought they would do to Ben. 😭😭

There are other punishments, too, but nothing as bad as what the Commies did to him. American pussies…

I snorted at this line lmfao. Ben would have that thought.

But you shocked me entirely with Stan Edgar coming into the picture. I knew however, that whatever that deal was going to be was gonna be fucked.

Those few molecules of realness were life-supplying in the literal sense.

I just loved this line.

“Just let me say this, alright?” Ben interjects and gulps nervously. Being locked up and lonely for months, he’s had plenty of time to think about his mistakes and find ways to fix them. “I’m so sorry for what I did, Y/N. I was, uhm… hurt, and I lashed out, and this should’ve never happened. I know people don’t forgive and forget. Trust me, I know… But still, I’m hoping you can. Just this once? You think you can do that?”

I'm honestly surprised that he laid all of this out as honestly and vulnerably as he did. I'd half expect him to partially resent her for leaving him behind. That's some amazing character development. 💚

Ben doesn’t care if the world forgives him for his sins. He doesn’t care if God or what- and whoever forgives him. He doesn’t care about the people he hurt in the past. He doesn’t care about the lives and families he’s destroyed. He knows he’s done wrong – a lot of wrong – and he also knows he can never ever fix any of it.

This is all very interesting and feels very real for him to conclude about himself. All he cares about at this point is if she forgives him and takes him back.

After all, it’s the first time in his long life he’s doing a big Soldier Boy Apology Tour.

lmfaooo it's about time!

The dam then breaks, but he’ll be damned if he lets her witness a single tear. Instead, he pulls her close to his massive body and presses his lips on hers. He kisses her so hard that they both see not only stars but different galaxies altogether.

My heart was so damn full while reading this part of the scene, and everything that came after. 💚💚 Clearly she was still hung up on him just as much as he was on her.

But I also thought it was great that he acknowledges that she is the only friend he's ever had, not just the love of his life. That's just beautiful right there. 🥹

Y/N nods in his palms and hugs his hands with her own. “Are you alright? What did they do to you? Did they hurt you?” “I’m fine,” Ben assures her but knows Y/N won’t buy his lie. “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine now, okay?”

Gahh. This didn't rip at my heart at all. 😭😭

“Like Sid and Nancy?” Y/N grins teasingly up at him. “Or Ross and Rachel? Beyoncé and Jay-Z? But without Becky…” “I have no fucking clue who those people are.” He chuckles, placing another kiss on her cheek. “But yeah, like Sid and Nancy. Bonnie and Clyde. Whatever you want, doll.”

🤣🤣🤣 I fucking loved this entire exchange. Forever let's make jokes that go over Ben's old-ass head.

“Ben!” “Alright, don’t get hyster–” At her glare, he abruptly stops mid-sentence and swallows thickly. “Calm down, okay? I can handle it.”

Also had me dying! At least he's curbing those asshole tendencies. But now this deal is a freakin' suicide mission for real. Stan and Mallory and the rest of the CIA definitely want Ben to die.

And now that she wants to go with him, I'm very scared that one of them are going to be collateral damage here. My hopeless romantic heart is definitely going to suffer, I can already feel it. 😭 But like I said last time, I'm ride or die with you on this story. I'm here until the end!

Rehab – Chapter 7

Series Summary: Thanks to Soldier Boy, the CIA was able to develop Project Bloom under the fierce leadership of Grace Mallory: a final cure to Compound V and a hopeful end to the supe epidemic three years after the explosive incident at Vought. A secret rehab facility in Upstate New York is supposed to help former heroes find their way back to humanity. The catch, though? Soldier Boy has never fucking agreed to any of this shit and is surely not happy about being powerless for the first time in his goddamn long life.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18, language, light smut, fluff, angst

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Thank you guys so much for all the warm responses (and loud screams) last week. Feels good to be back and cause some chaos here. Enjoy this one! It's all downhill from here 💚

Feedback is my fuel 🖤

<< Chapter 6 || Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Chapter 7: make up sex

Ben carefully traces the marks on her skin with his fingertips, her naked back illuminated by the soft spring morning glow that streams in through the window. Tenderly, he kisses a path down her shoulder and hears her giggle at the tickling of his beard.

He loves her. Yet, she’s too good for him. Maybe he could change, though. He feels the endless possibilities pumping through his veins.

“Morning, my love.”

Ben smiles when she stretches her limbs with a blissful yawn and turns to face him. He leans down and claims her lips in a bruising kiss as if they were his newest addiction. Who knows? They might just be.

“Morning, stud.” Y/N’s smile is brighter than the sun and lights the way to his dark heart. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, doll.” Ben kisses her deeply and swallows the cute little giggles that escape through her mouth, his heart full of happiness.

Ben wakes cruelly as a bucket of ice water is dumped over him and hits him full frontal. He shivers as he wipes the remaining water out of his face, hair, and eyes with the hem of his dirty white t-shirt before blinking and glaring at the guard with the sadistic smile in front of him.

“Morning, shithead.” The guard snickers and slides a tray of runny eggs over to him. “Breakfast.”

It’s been six months since the former supe has last seen Y/N. After his outburst, they put him down like a wild dog with rabies, but Ben wasn’t one for giving up. He tried five more times to escape the rehab facility and killed three nurses before they threw him into solitary. He’s proud of that number. He’d never forgive himself if he went down without a fight.

A part of him hoped they’d kill him for it, but his luck has apparently run out.

Ben’s been imprisoned in this bleak cell ever since. He didn’t even know this place existed. It’s located deep underground in the clinic’s basement. There’s no sun and no warmth. There’s only him, gray and cold concrete, fluorescent lights, and a whole bunch of nothing. The scratch marks on the wall tell him he’s been here nineteen weeks.

His beard is unkempt and wild, as is his hair. He hasn’t seen a mirror in an eternity, but he probably looks like a caveman by now. Reeks and feels like one, too. The only showers he gets are the ice baths that wake him every morning. Unfortunately, that’s not the only torture they’ve thought of. There are other punishments, too, but nothing as bad as what the Commies did to him.

American pussies…

“There’s someone here to see you, champ,” the guard says as he comes to collect the empty tray.

Ben tried to starve himself once before, but that only got him a tube stuffed down his throat. Whoever’s in charge clearly wants to keep him alive and suffering.

There’s a jolt in his gut that bounces to his forlorn and desolate heart, a shimmer of hope burning brightly inside of him that direly wants to convince him that the love of his life has found him. A drop of precious water in the concrete desert. And if she’s not getting him out, at least she’s visiting.

By now, he knows that’s not the case, though. In fact, he’s pretty damn sure Y/N doesn’t even know he’s here, living her life topside, outside, and carefree. Free of him.

A vicious circle that keeps repeating itself.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Ben mutters disinterestedly. Whoever has come to see him surely isn’t worthy of it. After all, he suspects it is just plain ol’ Mallory. She’s come by a few times to lecture him about consequences with that self-satisfied smirk of hers.

“You don’t look well, old friend,” a man’s voice chimes through the cold cell.

Curiously, Ben’s head raises with his brow as he squints his green eyes at the black man in front of him. The voice sounds familiar, as do the man’s features.

“Stan Edgar. I’ll be damned.” A laugh almost escapes him at the realization. “Didn’t think you were still the fuck alive. You got fucking old.”

“I could say the same thing, Soldier Boy,” Edgar retorts as he takes off his glasses and cleans them with a pristine white handkerchief. “Or is it Ben now? I can see the gray in your beard even from here.”

At Edgar’s amused smile, Ben balls his fists, wishing he could wipe off that smug grin. He gets it. Everyone greatly enjoys his downfall, being reminded once again what a shitty asshole he used to be. Y/N really was right when she said that people don’t forgive and forget. So far, it’s been Ben’s experience as well.

“What the fuck do you want, huh? Just came here to fucking laugh and gloat?” Ben prompts, his patience wearing thin. He’s not a zoo animal. He doesn’t need to be gawked at.

“I have a proposal for you if you’re interested,” Edgar says cryptically and dangles a metaphorical carrot in front of his nose. “I heard you’d like to see your girlfriend, right?”

Ben sighs deeply. He knows the game they’re playing. He’s played it a million times before, especially with Vought, and wonders if he ever actually won at it. He used to believe he did, but not anymore.

“And what do you want in return, huh? What’s the catch?”

In response, Edgar’s lips curve into a triumphant smirk.

Nervously, Ben clears his throat several times and fidgets with his fingers, close to biting off his nails. His hand runs through and scratches his trimmed beard. It feels weird to have it short again after so many months.

Once he set foot outside the clinic, his green eyes even had to adjust to the brightness of the sun. It’s been so long since his pupils have actually seen natural daylight. His lungs practically inhaled the oxygen provided by air that’s fresh and wasn’t filtered and smelled fabricated. Those few molecules of realness were life-supplying in the literal sense.

Ben unfolds the crumbled piece of paper in his left hand with an address written on it and checks once more if he’s got the right apartment, even though he’s already done that a couple of times. 5B it reads on his piece of paper and the apartment door with golden letters.

One more swallow, and his knuckles hesitantly tap the wood. Then, his boot taps the floor in a manic beat until he hears the door unlock.

“Ben…” Y/N’s brow furrows. She seems both bewildered and pleasantly surprised. But then worry spreads across her delicate features, looking suspiciously left and right down the hallway. “What are you doing here? How did you get out?”

Ben can’t form a functioning sentence for the life of him. He keeps trying, but his mind is too preoccupied with taking her in – every little bit of her. The color spectrum of her brilliant eyes, the shape of her godforsaken lips, the shine and flow of her hair, and the freckles that grace her perfect skin. She’s still the girl he met a year ago. The girl from his memories. The girl from his dreams.

He also takes note of the changes, though, because she’s surely changed a lot, too. And it’s not just the new clothes she’s wearing that aren’t hoodies and sweats or the different length and slight change of color of her hair. It’s first and foremost the glowing aura of happiness that cloaks her entire being.

She’s a masterpiece, and he can’t help but keep staring at her like she’s an exhibition at the Louvre.

“Ben, say something. Wha–,” she starts anew when he still hasn’t said a word.

“I’m sorry,” he cuts in. The words come out so fast, it’s just one word altogether, really. But he’s been wanting to say them to her for so long, practiced them every day in his cell that they just escaped him in a blurb.

“I. Am. Sorry,” Ben repeats more slowly and coherently. “Look, uhm, I’m not good at this shit. There’s about a million different speeches that I’ve prepared over the last few months, and I figured once I saw you, I’d know which one to pick…”

“Ben–”

“Just let me say this, alright?” Ben interjects and gulps nervously. Being locked up and lonely for months, he’s had plenty of time to think about his mistakes and find ways to fix them. “I’m so sorry for what I did, Y/N. I was, uhm… hurt, and I lashed out, and this should’ve never happened. I know people don’t forgive and forget. Trust me, I know… But still, I’m hoping you can. Just this once? You think you can do that?”

Ben’s a shadow of his former self. A broken shell of a man. And while one would think that’s a bad thing, it’s truly not. His hardened armor, shield and suit, peeled from his skin and revealed a soft core of heart, hope and humanity underneath it.

“Wow, uhm…” Y/N gasps, speechless as her head bobs in both acknowledgment and thought. “That’s–, uhm, that’s a lotta words. Especially coming from you.” A soft and tender smile forms on her mouth as she chews on her lower lip. “Always thought your generation was more the silent type.”

“I’m full of surprises, doll.” Ben shrugs endearingly and adds a wink, parts of his charm returning. He matches her smile as his heart fills with hope. Not all is lost. At least she hasn’t slammed the door in his face. Yet. “So? Do you forgive me?”

Ben doesn’t care if the world forgives him for his sins. He doesn’t care if God or what- and whoever forgives him. He doesn’t care about the people he hurt in the past. He doesn’t care about the lives and families he’s destroyed. He knows he’s done wrong – a lot of wrong – and he also knows he can never ever fix any of it.

Yes, Ben doesn’t care about a lot of things, but he cares about Y/N. And he cares if she forgives him.

Y/N’s eyes brim with tears as she fights to keep the smile on her face alive. “Only if you can forgive me,” she says quietly as her throat closes, making it harder to breathe. “I’m sorry, too. I never meant all those things I said to you that night. I was just scared.”

“Of me?” Ben cocks an eyebrow, simultaneously puzzled and afraid of the answer.

Luckily, Y/N shakes her head. “Yes… and no, it was never about you, you know? I knew if I let you in fully, I’d never leave the clinic. I would’ve stayed for you. Forever,” she explains. “And I also know I played a role in what you did. I mean, I didn’t technically push you into another woman,” she mutters sourly and continues with a deep exhale through her nose, “But I know I pushed you too far… You’re not the only one who’s broken, you know?”

“So, what does that mean? What do we do now?” Ben asks. This is truly as far as he’s thought ahead. A part of him even believed she wouldn’t open the door for him in the first place. To say he feels lost right now would be an understatement. After all, it’s the first time in his long life he’s doing a big Soldier Boy Apology Tour.

“Two broken halves make a whole, right?” Y/N sends him a weak smile that he mirrors.

“I mean, yeah.” Ben chuckles with keen nods, scratching the back of his neck. “I never graduated high school, but that sounds like fucking perfect math to me.”

“Good.” Y/N laughs, her smile rising. She takes a deep breath and swallows the goddamn lump in her throat that’s sat there for half a year. “I love you.”

Ben’s heart crashes. For a second, he even doubts he made it out of that dark cell in the first place because this surely feels like a dream. He might have even died and against all odds went to Heaven.

He can’t hold himself back any longer, every muscle in his body trembling at the sound of those glorious three words. He never thought language could have such a massive impact on him.

The dam then breaks, but he’ll be damned if he lets her witness a single tear. Instead, he pulls her close to his massive body and presses his lips on hers. He kisses her so hard that they both see not only stars but different galaxies altogether.

For a moment, he worries if she’s going to reject him once more. But she doesn’t. On the contrary, her arms drape around his neck and pull him so close they might as well merge into one single entity. She deepens the kiss with a newfound need until they’re both breathless and blue in the face.

Ben, however, would’ve gladly died from the lack of oxygen. What a way to go out after a hundred years…

Resting her forehead on his, Y/N pants heavily as her hands slide down to his broad chest and hold onto his shirt as if he might disappear into thin air if she doesn’t.

“I love you, Y/N. You’re the only friend I ever had. You’re everything to me,” he mumbles into her hair and kisses the top of her head. He closes his eyes and breathes in her scent, trying to memorize it all. It almost killed him when he couldn’t recall it during his captivity.

She smiles broadly and looks up at him. “Wanna come inside?”

Ben nods softly, reining in some of his eagerness. “I’d love to.”

“I see the vinyl collection has grown,” Ben notes with a happy chuckle as he takes in her apartment, his eyes glued on the oakwood shelf that consumes an entire wall and reaches up to the ceiling, filled from top to bottom with records. “You’re gonna need a bigger place soon.”

“Yeah, I spend a lot of time in record stores these days. Not to mention half my paychecks…” Y/N laughs as she prepares a pot of coffee in the small kitchen, her cheeks flushing as her adorable dimples make an appearance.

Ben’s missed them, too. He thinks they’re always more prominent when he makes her laugh.

“You work?” His brow shoots up at that information, a curious smile curving his mouth.

While he was locked up for months, he has wondered every single night what she was up to, what her life must look like now, before his eyes grew too tired and closed, ending another grueling day without her. He always hoped, though, that she was happy wherever she was.

“Yeah, I’m interning right now at an orphanage and taking night classes at a community college, so I can become a social worker,” she replies with a sheepish smile.

His face lights up, his smile spreading from ear to ear. “College, huh? That’s great. I’m fucking proud of you.”

It’s a phrase Ben always wanted to hear – from his father, from the world. It’s something he imagined he’d say to his sons someday, but he never got the chance. Frankly, neither him nor any offspring of his deserved to hear it. Y/N, on the other hand, does.

She deserves the world and so much more. Could Ben ever give it all to her?

“Thanks.” Y/N blushes even more and hands him a mug with coffee.

These past months have been hard for her, too. She’s tried to build a life for herself, a future worth living, and not fall into a dark hole like so many former supes before her. She’s had no one on the outside. Nights and days got rather lonely until she made some friends at work and college. It took a long while until she didn’t feel lost anymore and found her purpose.

And yet, she never felt complete. Her mind always raced back to him, wondering what he might think of her if he could see her now. Ben haunted her hopes and dreams every single day since she’s left the clinic, wishing he’d be right here by her side.

“I work at a former supe orphanage. Mallory arranged it. They actually managed to cure every single kid without losses. Now, we’re just trying to find them good homes,” Y/N tells him excitedly, beaming with pride. “For the first time in my life, I finally feel like I’m making a difference. I’m doing something good.”

“That’s awesome,” Ben says, smiling. “But for the record, you’ve made a difference even before that. You’ve changed my life.”

“Right back at you,” Y/N replies and then her smile shines brighter than the sun itself. It’s blinding. “There’s a boy at the home that actually reminds me a lot of you. And not just because you two share a name.”

Ben curiously arches an eyebrow, smirking. “Yeah?”

“Yes, cocky son of a bitch,” she says with a laugh. Ben chuckles at that. Y/N then saunters closer to him as if she can’t stand to be apart from him a minute longer. It makes his heart race faster than a rocket to the moon. “I thought a lot about you. Actually, there’s not a day that went by where I didn’t think about you, you know?”

“Yeah, same, my love,” Ben replies and chokes down the damn lump in his throat. When did he become such a fucking sap?

��I wanted to visit you at the clinic a couple of times, but they wouldn’t let me,” Y/N tells him then, sadness shimmering in her eyes. “They said you moved on and didn’t want to see me, but I had a feeling that wasn’t true.”

Ben tries not to get goddamn angry at her words. It was one thing to torture him. Throw ice water on him every morning, electrocute and burn him, but fucking lie to her? Making her believe he didn’t want to see her when that’s all he wanted this goddamn time? Those bastards are lucky he doesn’t have his nuclear powers anymore, or they’d all be turned to ash.

But the past doesn’t matter anymore. It took him almost a century to learn that lesson. What matters, though, is that he’s here right now. With her.

Even when you’ve lived forever, time is precious. It’s a gift you don’t waste, no matter if you have an abundance of it.

With one stride, Ben’s in front of her and cups her cheeks, looking deeply into her tear-filled eyes. “It’s not true. I never moved on, okay? Every single day, I would’ve died and killed someone to see you, alright? Believe me.”

Y/N nods in his palms and hugs his hands with her own. “Are you alright? What did they do to you? Did they hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” Ben assures her but knows Y/N won’t buy his lie. “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine now, okay?”

“Did you escape? Because if you did, we can’t stay here. They’ll find you here,” Y/N worries, and he can see the panic rising in her features.

“I didn’t escape. They let me go, alright?” Ben says but can already see her mouth opening again with more questions, so he resorts to kissing them shut. “As I said, don’t worry, my love. We’ll talk about this later, and I promise I’ll tell you everything, okay?”

Even though she’s reluctant, she agrees with a weak nod. “Okay.”

“Now, there’s something I’ve been wanting to do for months,” Ben announces and smirks slyly.

Y/N matches his smile and meets him halfway as he fiercely claims her lips in a searing kiss. On tiptoes, she then hoists herself up and tightly wraps her legs around his waist as he carries her promptly to the bedroom.

With a giggle, she’s dropped onto the mattress as Ben hungrily trails kisses from her cheek to her jawline and down her neck. Eagerly, he unzips her jeans and shimmies them down her smooth legs, leaving her only in a pair of onyx lace panties.

“Were you expecting someone?” Suspiciously, Ben lifts an eyebrow. He wouldn’t hold it against her if she found someone during the time they were apart, but he sure as hell wouldn’t be happy about it.

Well, okay, that’s a lie. In fact, he’d like the guy’s address so he can commit a murder.

Y/N giggles in response. “No, I’m just really bad at doing laundry. Those were the only clean ones left,” she explains. Internally, he sighs in relief. “I haven’t been with anyone since you.”

The look she gives him is one powerful guilt trip since they both know he can’t say the same. Christ on a fucking stick, he feels shitty. During all the times he’s cheated on Crimson Countess (and there were many), he’s never felt like this before and can’t say that he particularly enjoys this feeling.

Softly, he rests his forehead on hers and pecks her lips, his fingers gingerly stroking her cheek. “I’ll never fucking do that to you again. I promise.”

Y/N nods. “I know. I believe you.”

“It’s just you and me from now on, alright? Us against the world,” Ben assures her.

“Like Sid and Nancy?” Y/N grins teasingly up at him. “Or Ross and Rachel? Beyoncé and Jay-Z? But without Becky…”

“I have no fucking clue who those people are.” He chuckles, placing another kiss on her cheek. “But yeah, like Sid and Nancy. Bonnie and Clyde. Whatever you want, doll.”

More kisses follow, wet and hot as he works his way down her body. He has missed touching someone’s warm skin. He has missed hearing someone’s laugh that wasn’t full of cruelty. He has missed feeling loved and adored. He has missed feeling freedom and peace. And most of all, Ben has missed her.

Y/N’s breathing grows more labored with every inch he climbs down her body. His fingers hook into the elastic of her panties, feeling his hot breath on her mound before he flings the fabric across the room. His length brushes between her thighs, hard and thick, and elicits little jolts of electricity on her skin that travel through her nerve endings and cause goosebumps of anticipation to form.

“Fuck, Ben,” she moans and arches her back as he pulls the little sensitive nub between his teeth and sucks.

The former hero chuckles in delight at her reaction. “Oh, my love, I’m just getting started…”

Gentle and soft, Ben kisses her naked shoulder blade, trailing a flock of kisses down her spine till he reaches the beginnings of her asscheeks and hears her adorable giggle.

“That tickles,” Y/N says, grinning from ear to ear.

“Yeah? You know, I actually had a dream about this,” Ben says with a peck on her crown.

Y/N cocks a curious eyebrow at that and rolls in his embrace, facing him. “Really? Tell me.”

“Well, it was a lot like this,” Ben starts. “And then…”

“And then what?” Y/N prompts when he abruptly trails off.

“And then… you told me you loved me,” Ben confesses and clears his throat. He’s not used to open and emotional pillow talk, but Y/N makes it easy, practically forces his emotions to the surface like a mountain spring.

Y/N grins broadly up at him. “I do love you.”

“Yeah? You sure?” A hint of insecurity haunts his juniper eyes. How many times has he been placated and lied to? At this point, it’s too damn many to count. “You’re not just fucking saying that, right?”

“And what exactly would I get out of it?” Y/N reframes his question, licking her amble lips. Sometimes asking the right question is more telling than an answer. “Money? Fame? You have neither.”

Ben clicks his tongue and purses his lips. “That was somehow both relieving and fucking insulting. How the hell did you do that?”

Y/N laughs and innocently twitches her shoulders. “It’s a talent.”

“Well, I’m gonna take notes. Jesus fucking Christ…” Ben cards a hand through his messy hair and shakes his head at her, placing a kiss on the tip of her nose.

Y/N then cups his cheeks, fingers softly caressing his beard. Her eyes wander down his body, finding scars and bruises that haven’t been there the last time she has seen him. “Ben, are you alright? What happened to you?”

The fallen supe then glances down his own chest and knows exactly what she means by her question. Yet, he brushes her off with a smile and grabs her hand, kissing her knuckles. “Nothing, my love. I told you I’m fine.”

Knowing it’s impossible to get answers out of him, Y/N nods. “I think now is ‘later,’” she states, thinking back to last night’s unfinished conversation. “How did you get out? What did you do?”

Ben presses his plush lips into a thin line, tongue poking his bearded cheeks. “Don’t worry about it.”

Y/N heaves a sigh and gently kisses his lips. “Ben, if you want us to be a team and ‘us against the world,’ you can’t keep things from me,” she tells him. “I’m your partner. Your ride or die. I’m here for you, no matter what. But you gotta tell me what’s up. You can’t always protect me.”

“I can try,” he mumbles sweetly and places another precious kiss on her hairline.

“And if there are more bad guys to kill and maim, you’re free to do so.” Y/N smiles softly, causing him to chuckle. “Please just tell me what’s going on.”

Ben’s head bobs in thought before replying, “I made a deal.”

Her brow furrows, an eerie feeling spreading in her stomach. “What kinda deal?”

“If I do this, then I’m a free man afterward. We can be together. For real, Y/N,” he says with a hopeful undertone that resembles a fairytale. Only Y/N knows those don’t really exist.

“Do what? What deal did you make, Ben? And with who?”

The bad feeling in her stomach only grows. Y/N knows only too well how the CIA works. They wait for their target to become weak, vulnerable, and hopeless. God knows Ben was exactly all those things when he first set foot inside the rehab clinic.

“An old friend visited me in lock-up. Proposed something,” Ben replies mysteriously.

Y/N’s brow wrinkles some more. “Ben, I don’t mean to sound offensive, but you don’t have old friends.”

The former supe snorts, amused. “I’m aware. And trust me, I don’t like this fucker either, but the deal was too good to be true.”

“That’s probably because it is,” Y/N throws in.

“Probably. But I still have to take it,” Ben maintains, his green eyes desperate and pleading.

“Who was it? Who came to see you?”

“Ever heard of Stan Edgar?”

Shocked, Y/N’s brow raises to her hairline. “The former CEO of Vought International?!”

But then Ben’s the one who’s surprised. “That motherfucker made it to CEO? Who would’ve thought…”

“Ben, focus,” Y/N snaps. “This isn’t a history lesson.”

“Well, he used to manage Payback back in the 80s. Now he’s apparently in it with Mallory and the CIA,” Ben explains. “They need my help. In exchange, I get my freedom.”

Y/N, however, scowls in annoyance. “Ben, I swear to God, if you don’t stop beating around the bush soon, I’ll fucking strangle you myself.”

Ben laughs and pecks her lips. “I love it when you’re feisty. It’s sexy…”

“Ben!”

“Alright, don’t get hyster–” At her glare, he abruptly stops mid-sentence and swallows thickly. “Calm down, okay? I can handle it.”

“Handle what?!”

Ben licks his lips and clicks his tongue. He supposes there’s no way around it anymore. He has to spit it out. He gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Apparently, they’ve got Homelander.”

Confused, Y/N’s head tilts, more creases forming on her brow. At this point, she’s worried they’ll stay permanently – all because of this asshole in her bed. “What do you mean ‘they’ve got Homelander’? Got him how?”

“According to Edgar, the CIA has him locked up somewhere,” Ben replies.

“Would explain why the news has been so peaceful and quiet recently,” Y/N muses cynically as her head begins to spin. “But wait a minute… if they’ve already got him, what do they want you to do? Why are you telling me all of this?”

Ben lets out a deep sigh. He knew from the start she’d never approve. “They wanna cure him. You know, like us.”

“Okay, so?” Y/N shrugs, not putting the puzzle pieces together. “They want you to kill him after?” But then, her eyes widen as she realizes the sinister plan. “No… No! Ben, no! You can’t do this! You’re gonna die! Have you learned nothing from your last glorious deal with Billy Butcher?”

Ben sighs anew. “Y/N, I know, my love. I know, alright? But I’m the only one who can get close enough to him.”

“How do you know that, huh?” Y/N questions, throwing her arms up. “The last time the two of you were in a room together, it didn’t go so well. Who says he ain’t gonna kill you as soon as he sees you?”

“‘Cause he’s a pathetic fucking cunt with daddy issues. I can work that angle,” Ben insists, acting like he’s got it all perfectly figured out.

His ego surely thinks so. It’s as old and as big as the goddamn Titanic. Y/N prays it won’t sink just as fast.

“Oh, so you wanna trick your petri dish son long enough to ram a needle into his goddamn throat? That’s your fucking plan?” Y/N lifts a sarcastic eyebrow. “Are you fucking insane?!”

“Look, I know it’s risky–”

“Risky?” Y/N interrupts him faster than a gunshot and scoffs. “Ben, fucking without a condom – that’s risky. It’s like asking for an STD! This mission is just plain stupid and, frankly, suicidal!”

Ben remains quiet until her chest stops heaving and calms. He nods in understanding before finding her eyes and locking gazes. “I know all of that. But there’s no other choice. I have to do this. This is my chance to make it right.”

Y/N shakes her head vehemently, her mind in denial. “No, no… I don’t believe that.” She jumps out of bed and hauls a duffel bag from her closet, throwing everything her hands can grab inside of it. “We can go. We can leave right now and go to Mexico… or Alaska. Nova Scotia!”

Ben chuckles lightly, scooting across the mattress to her, and grabs her frantic hands, kissing them gently. “Y/N, stop. We can’t leave. You and I both know there’s at least three SUVs full of agents parked outside and surrounding that building,” he says and watches her realize their dire situation in horror and despair. “This is the only way.”

“We can shoot our way outta here. I’m pretty sure my neighbor is an arms dealer,” Y/N suggests weakly, sniffling. She didn’t necessarily pick the best neighborhood.

“I don’t think we’d make it, Bonnie.”

Old Ben, Soldier Boy, would’ve shot himself out of that apartment building, even blast himself out of it, no questions asked. He also wouldn’t have cared if Y/N got hurt or even died in the midst of it. After all, narcissistic assholes don’t care much about anything but themselves. But New Ben surely does. He cares more than he sometimes likes to admit. And most of all, he’s certainly not a big risk-taker when it comes to her safety.

“But what if you die? What then?” she whispers as tears roll down her rosy cheeks.

Ben catches them with his thumb and wipes them away, smiling warmly. “At least then, there’s finally someone who’ll miss me when I’m gone.”

Y/N catches his lips in a deep and desperate kiss, only interrupted by her sniffles. “Of course I’d miss your stupid ass.”

Ben laughs and places his palms on her hips, pulling her between his thighs as her arms lock around his neck. “Good,” he says with another kiss on her lips. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

But no matter how much distraction he provides, her worries refuse to dissipate. “When is this gloriously insane plan happening?”

Licking his lips, Ben inhales deeply. “Tonight.”

“I’m coming with you.”

Chapter 8: sid & nancy – March 29

And the plot thickens! Last chapter plus an epilogue coming next week! 💚

Is this a good time to remind you that this series doesn't necessarily have a super happy ending? 👀

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27

Rehab Series: @nancymcl @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @sparkydonugh

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here!

A/N: If I had to give this part a title, I would title it “(Y/N) and their human friends” Also I lied. This part was too long so it might be another part (or two) before we get to the Bella Arc.

* “You know you would be pretty good looking without the glasses.” Lauren says twirling a strand of hair and ignoring the algebra worksheet in front of her.

* Yeah that’s kind of the whole point

* “Contacts kind of freak me out.”

* You’re expecting a snarky response but instead she nods.

* “It’s the whole sticking your finger in your eye thing right, I totally get that.” She’s watching you with such inquisitive eyes, it almost you uncomfortable.

* It’s been a few months since you started school, you’re almost at thanksgiving break. So far you feel like you’ve assimilated well, and you have a good balance between school and caring for your animals, but it’s situations like this that totally throw you off.

* “Hey (Y/N/N), what did you get for number 5?” Jessica asks, you’re thankful for the distraction.

* “I got X = 8” Jessica confirms she got that too, and moves onto the next one

* You three are in the worlds most unlikely group. You didn’t even know Lauren was in this class you usually just pair up with Jessica.

* “Hey, me and a some people from the volleyball team are going to Port Angeles, you should come with, we could give you a makeover.”

*You wonder what the other angle here is

* It didn’t take long for you to realise that somehow, even with the ugly-duckling routine, the Cullen’s were at the top of the social hierarchy.

* Part of their popularity was probably because they didn’t really seem to interact with anyone outside of their own social circle. Which just made them all the more desirable.

* “I don’t know Lauren, I would have to ask Esme if it’s okay.” Though you can already bet Rosalie isn’t going to like this.

* “Oh cool, just let me know!” Lauren smiles, it turns out the act of considering her invitation was enough to placate her.

* For once you’re actually glad Edward’s waiting for you outside of your class when the bell rings.

* “Edward read that girls mind.”

* “It’s always straight to business isn’t it. No, ‘hi Edward how’s it going?’ Or ‘How was your class, how has your morning been treating you?’ It wouldn’t hurt you to make some small talk” You give him a look, and he returns it with an expectant expression. You sigh.

* “Hi, Edward how was your class?” You plaster on a smile, and he returns with a smile of his own.

* “It was fine. A little repetitive, we’re reading “to kill a mocking bird” in English.” You nod, offering a consoling pat on the shoulder

* “That sounds super boring,” the books great and all, but you’re guessing he’s already read it like 30 times by now. “Hey Edward,”

* “Yes (Y/N),” He nods, hiding his grin behind his hand.

* “Would you mind doing me a favor?”

* “Of course, anything for you.” He grins openly now.

* “Would you mind telling me what that girl Lauren Mallory is thinking so I can know why she invited me,” and not Jessica her good friend. “to hang out?”

* Edward loses his smile.

* “The varsity members on the volleyball team suggested it, they think it’s a shame they couldn’t have got you on the team since you just moved here.”

* Unexpected but not the worst. You’ve really been half assing it in PE so you’re surprised they even want you.

* “Lauren-she thinks you could be-“ a lopsided smirk twitches onto his face. “in her words- ‘two super good looking best friends’ “

*oh. So she just wants a pretty b*tch squad?

* “Maybe I’ll go with them then” you were scared they were going to force you to show them the Cullen’s house and introduce you to everyone, or leave you stranded in port A as some kind of prank or something.

* Edward stops you

*“you can’t be serious” he has his eyebrows scrunched together

* “Why not?” Nothing more natural to fitting in then hanging out with your classmates. Unless- “if you’re worried about any accidents don’t, I know they all look healthy but they eat a lot of carbs. Way too starchy for my palette.”

* “It’s not that-“ he gets that brooding-existence is suffering look. “You shouldn’t trust humans too much, they’ll let you down.”

* Well what’s that supposed to mean, but before you can ask he’s already walking to his class.

* Well whatever, at least Emmett will tell you a good joke to take your mind off of Mr. Eternal Damnations ominous words.

* Too bad when you get inside he’s not here, instead Mike Newton perks up when you walk into the room.

* “Hey Eleazar, how’s it going?” You still have a hard time adjusting to use Eleazar’s name as your own. Apparently they came from a time when last names were only for nobles, so he offered you his first name instead.

* “Hey Newton, any plans for this weekend?” You take Edward’s advice and start with small talk. Mike Newton smiles, you guess he’s kinda cute, all soft cheeks and baby blue eyes

* “No I’m completely free!” Weird how he’s so enthusiastic about being alone, he must be one of those “relish time alone” types. Good for him.

* “Everyone needs some time alone sometimes.” He deflates, oh man you guess that’s the wrong thing to say.

* He looks like he wants to say something to you, but then Emmett sits beside you.

* “Can I have a swig from your water bottle?” You hand it over

* “Making out with Rosalie make you thirsty?” Emmett cracks a grin

* “It’s that whole bookworm-soccer mom get up, it gets to me yknow?” That’s actually pretty funny

* “So what she’s the Velma to your Freddy?” When the reference doesn’t sink in you rephrase “the nerd to your jock.” He grins again.

* “I think I might join the swim team just so I can see her wear my letterman” that’s actually pretty cute

* “You should do that, I’ll cheer you on at your swim meets” Emmett grins.

*”I’ll hold you to that”

* School life goes on like it always has.

* Weeks pass, marked by tests, homework assignments and projects.

* You actually kind of become friends with Angela, Lauren, Jessica, Connor and Mike.

* “So like, are you and Cullen close?” Mike asks. You and the group are over at Tyler’s house using his fire pit to roast marshmallows. The others are invested in another conversation but you can tell by Lauren’s subtle head tilt that she’s eavesdropping.

* “Which one?” Mike gets flustered at that

* “The one in our grade.”

* “Hmm, well I’d say Alice and I are kinda close, but-“

* “N-no not her,” he clears his throat. “The other one-Edward”

* “Oh, Edward’s my best friend.” The answer slips out automatically.

* “I-Is that why you’re staying with the Cullen’s?” Jessica asks. Everyone’s blatantly listening now, the only one who seems uncomfortable is Angela.

* You sigh. You know everyone at school is probably wondering about the weird relationship. Jessica’s just the only one brave enough to ask you.

* “I mean, it might be.” You’re sure, Edward’s friendship with you is the reason everyone was so quick to accept the living arrangement. “But I actually met Car-I mean Dr. Cullen before I met the others.”

* “How does that work?” It’s Connor who pipes in this time.

* “Well-“ you sigh you really don’t want to do this but at least your sob story will make you seem less suspicious. “So Eleazer and Carmen, they’re my parents, but they’re not my birth parents.”

* You tell them how your parents passed away in an accident many years ago, and how Carlisle had been your Doctor at the time while you recovered. He worked with you for a long time, and you’re pretty sure he wanted to adopt you, but the agency liked Carmen and Eleazer better, probably because Carlisle already had so many adopted kids.

* “Still, Carlisle stayed in my life as my doctor and a family friend. Then I met Edward and the rest of the Cullen’s and... the rest is history...I guess.” You’ve found it’s best to mix a little bit of truth into the lie, though really all of that was mostly what happened.

* Everyone looks testy eyed, Angela is holding back tears, and Lauren hastily wipes her away so no one can see. You wonder if maybe your powers leaked out a bit while you were telling your story.

* “Dude... you’re so strong.” Tyler claps a hand on your shoulder and pulls you into a hug.

* “Ah, it all happened a long time ago, I’m mostly over it now” You tell them all about your Coven in Denali, and how you have two families now, how you don’t regret anything. Well, the only thing you regret, is not staying human, but you can’t mention that so you fake a smile instead.

* Connor breaks out a bottle of vodka he stole from his mom, and pours a shot for everyone

* “To (Y/N)” everyone raises their glass, and not for the first time you feel the urge to cry but no tears escape you.

* You’re a lot closer to everyone after that. You even start sitting at their lunch table every so often.

* In fact the others follow your lead and assimilate with their classmates with ease. Rosalie joins the school book club, and very loudly debates Jane Austen’s to whoever will listen.

* Emmett follows through and joins the swim team. Jasper starts hanging out with some wood shop kids, you’ve caught him arguing about the superior wood in between classes with his new friends. Even Alice joins the art club.

* You try out for the dance/cheer team, it’s the only thing you don’t have to hold back in. Also you’re a great base, you could hold everyone on the team up single handedly during stunts. But you won’t know if you made it until summer vacation

* Everyone seems to be assimilating well, everyone except for Edward

* “You can’t expect me to trust these people (Y/N), not when I know everything they’re really thinking.” You roll your eyes

* “I’m not saying you have to be their best friend Eddie, I’m just saying it looks super suspicious that all the Cullen’s only hang out with each other and refuse to get to know anyone else.” You shove a text book into his chest, and he scoffs

* “It wouldn’t hurt to make some small talk.”

* And so Edward joins your group of human friends, much to the joy of your female companions and dismay of your male ones.

* Life is still strange. But it’s good.

* When you’re surrounded by your new friends, it makes you feel - almost like you’re human again

* And then everything falls apart.

* It’s almost summer vacation. You’re excited, maybe you can go to the beach again soon, and you wonder if it will be alright to take a trip to Denali to see your Coven. You’re pretty confident you made the spirit squad so you’ll have to pencil in camp somewhere. You held back, but just enough by your own parameters to make the bottom end of Varsity.

* You’re at your locker, when Rosalie, and Edward show up. Quickly followed by Emmett, Jasper and Alice.

* “Oh hey guys, you wanna go on a hike tomorrow it’s supposed-“

* “You have to leave.” You’re surprised when it’s Emmett that says this. Kind, jovial Emmett holds a grave expression.

* “What, why-“ for a second you wonder if the Volturi has finally come to get you. It’s been at least seven years since your transformation, it’s about time they started thinking about you.

* But then you notice everyone staring, the quiet buzz of phones vibrating only detected by your super hearing. People are always staring, especially when you’re all together. but this time you notice they’re not staring at the six super models gathered in front of the lockers.

* They’re staring at you.

* “There’s a video of you going around,” Jasper says, and Rosalie placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I think it’s better if you see for yourself.”

* He hands you his blackberry, and the grainy image of you come into focus.

* It’s a YouTube video

* You’re in the locker room, your (Your Color Skin) in full view under the fluorescent lights. You’re wearing your underwear, and your abs are on full display. You’re Grey PE uniform shirt is limp in your hands, you remember this, you got extra laps as a penalty and as a result, you were running late for class, you were alone in the locker room

*well you thought you were alone.

* Your body is literally perfect, the way you’ve always dreamed, but you feel white hot shame rise in your throat like acid.

* Your hands shake as you scroll down to see the comments

* ‘Damn who knew they had a body like that under those dorky sweaters’

* ‘(Y/N) Eleazar: Best body Forks HS 10/10 would f*ck’

* ‘Hot body, if only they ditched the glasses, and started wearing some tighter shirts’

* And the comments go on, there’s at least a hundred. You hold your cardigan a little closer to your body. You don’t have the courage to turn around. You can already imagine them staring at you, picturing what they saw in the video transposed onto your body

* “I’m sorry, I didn’t see this coming until it was already happening-“ Alice touches your shoulder and continues her apology but you don’t hear anything.

* You want to cry, you want to be angry. But all you feel is shame. And the worst part is, you didn’t even do anything wrong. So why do you feel so ashamed?

* “Hey, look at me.” Edward grabs your face in his hands, your amber eyes meet his.

*”Snap out of it.”

* Oh, your powers are leaking through.

*Your gaze turns to your foster family, all of whom sport equally uncomfortable expressions.

* You take a deep breath, and imagine reeling in your emotions, imagining them receding back into a locked box, just like Eleazer taught you.

* You need a calm mind right now.

* “Are you fine now?” Edward asks, his hands still on your face. You nod, resting your hand on top of his

* “I’m good.”

* “Good, because we have to get you out of here.” He’s moved his hand to your arm, about to tug you back home when you pull back and shake your head.

* “We can’t do that.”

* “What do you mean?” Rosalie hisses, her hand curls around your wrist “we have to leave NOW.”

* “No think about it, they’re right.” Jasper says, his eyes meeting yours. At least someone’s on the same oage

* “Think about it Rose, if I leave now with all of you it’s going to look weird.” Normal 15-17 year olds wouldn’t think to handle the situation on their own, especially not entitled rich kids like the Cullen’s.

*She seems to have gotten it because her hand retreats to her side.

* “Well what should we do then, I’m not letting you walk around here with everyone-“ she cuts herself off, a deep frown creasing onto her face as her teeth dig into her bottoms lip.

* “We need to call Carlisle or Esme, they’ll pretend they saw the video from someone else and file a complaint with the school.” You take a deep breath, and imagine the locked box in your mind. Your emotions held carefully within.

* “Until then we all need to pretend like it’s not a big deal.”

* “No way in hell am I doing that!” Emmett growls. “I’m going to rip that fucking peeping Tom piece by piece.”

* “Not all of us need to pretend,” Alice says, her gaze somewhere far away, flicking between futures. “Only Edward, Rosalie and I do.” Her gaze lands on you.

* “You need to go to your class like normal,” a hint of a smile curls onto her mouth. “Everything’s going to work out fine.” Edward’s focusing on Alice, reliving her vision.

* “Do you think you can manage being alone?” Edward asks, you don’t have the next class with any of the Cullen’s. You’ll be on your own.

* You catch Jasper and Alice whispering to each other, but pay it no mind. Flirting even in the middle of your entire world crumbling down.

* You take a deep breath, picturing the locked box over and over, making it a visual mantra.

* “I can get through a period.” Everyone disperses, and Jasper walks you to your next class. Edward wanted to, but Jasper insisted.

*”You’re always hogging them, give someone else a few minutes Edward.”

* You’re almost near your class when Jasper talks to you.

* “Hey, I don’t know if I should tell you this”

*You wonder if he’s going to offer to beat up the person who took the video, or if he’s going to offer you a comforting word.

* “Alice told me you’re going to raise some hell on a misogynist in there” he gives you a wicked grin, his incisors sparkling.

* How is it that every vampire seems to say what you least expect to hear and yet, it’s exactly what you need in the moment.

* He holds out his fist, and you bump it with your own. A grin curling onto your face.

* “Hell yeah I am.”

* You take your usual seat in Spanish like normal. You sit in the front row in this class, diagonally from Jessica. Mike and Angela sit somewhere in the back.

* You just need to focus and keep your emotions in check for 45 minutes. You visualize the box, calming yourself separating the mind and body.

* How did the saying go... a calm soul resides in a calm body?

* “-Zar, Miss. Eleazar!” Your eyes pop up to the teacher, the locked box falling out of grasp.

* “Yes, sorry?” The teacher sighs, you look to the white board to see you’re going over the answers to the worksheet. You’re about to provide the answer for the number you’re on when the teacher cuts you off.

* “I know you might be focused on body building, but in my class you need to focus on the material.” There’s a scattered laugh that fills the room, but your blood runs cold

* “Excuse me?”

* And that’s when your teacher knew he fucked up. He stutters over himself, the sentences overlapping

* “-really you should take it as a compliment-“

* “Oh you think I should take it as a compliment that someone recorded me without my consent while I was changing?”

* The rooms pin drop silent. Your teacher is sweating.

* “Hold on now- I think you’re being a little dramatic don’t you think” A smirk curls onto his lips. “You were in your underwear, it was really no different than wearing a swimsuit” he’s got this smug smile, like he’s right.

*Honestly you were ready to put everything behind you and move on if he just apologized. It’s gross that a teacher is watching videos of a student changing, but what would you have done in his situation if a co-worker showed you.

* “It’s all about perspective, a positive per-“

* But not anymore, you’re not in a forgiving mood, especially not for an idiot like this.

* “No it’s all about consent.” All the anger and despair you’ve been holding back comes flooding out. “When someone wears a swimsuit they’re consenting to show skin and be seen, but I wasn’t contesting to being seen when I was changing in the privacy of the locker room.” You don’t stop for air, your voice trembling

* “And another thing, I wonder how the school administration will feel knowing the same faculty that’s supposed to make students feel safe and enrich their lives is watching creepy videos-“ you stop when you meet your teachers eyes, tears streaming down his face.

* Oh f*ck

* You look to your right, finding your classmates in a similar state, holding back tears.

*So this is what happens to humans when they come in contact with your power.

* You try to visualize the box, but it’s too far now. And all the crying people around you don’t help.

*You need to get out of here.

* “Pathetic, not even an apology for your gas lighting.” She shake your head as confidently as you can, grabbing your bag with trembling hands.

* You walk quickly, maybe there’s a mountain you can climb and wait it out on. You’ll text Carlisle and let him now what happened. It shouldn’t be too-

*” Hey wait!”

* You’re already in the hallway when someone call out to you. You turn, expecting it to be Angela or Mike. Never in a million years would you expect her to be standing there in the middle of the hall, her hand hastily wiping away a stray tear.

* “Mr. Peterson’s a f*cking jerk.” Jessica sniffles, walking quickly to catch up with you. You don’t miss the fact that her bags not slung across her back.

* She must have left a minute after you did. You haven’t thought about her as a friend. Not a real one at least. She’s kind of like hot sauce, it’s fun when it’s around, but if it’s not then that’s not a big deal.

* So to see her here, the first to follow you out, rambling about wether you want to get frozen yogurt or pizza, it warms your unbeating heart.

* “Hey Jessica?” She stops mid-sentence, her eyes swinging up to you.

* You haven’t been fair to her. But you’re going to change that.

* “Thanks for being my friend.” And she smiles at you, her arms wrapped around her tight. It’s not the fake ones you see often the ones she throws to Lauren when she’s asking for Jessica’s opinion on an outfit, or when Connor tries to copy her homework’s. it’s a genuine smile.

* Before she can open her mouth, you hear two more shouts from the hallway.

*Angela and Mike are jogging down the hallway to catch up with you. The latter carrying a bright pink backpack in his hand.

* “Geez Jess, the least you could do is take your bag before you go bolting out of there” Mike’s panting as he holds out her bag. You don’t miss the blush ghosting her face.

*Looks like she still has a crush on him.

* “Hey, are you okay?” Angela asks, and you wish you could cry as you nod.

* “Is it weird that I’m kind of happy right now?” And the three of them smile, before wrapping you into a group hug.

*They all smell terrible. Jessica smells like boiled broccoli, Mike is like the overwhelming stench of fat mixed with sugar, and Angela.. Angela’s probably the worst. She’s sickeningly sweet mixed with a healthy dose of starch.

*it’s disgusting. You have a hard time believing any of the Cullen’s would lose their minds when they’re this close to any of them.

*still, even with the repulsive stench, it’s nice. You haven’t felt the body gets of another human in a long time, or heard the quiet thump of their beating heart. Even the odor is nice, it reminds you that they’re human.

*And for a second it’s easier to pretend you’re human too, just like them.

* “Dude why are you so cold?” Jessica groans, breaking the moment. She taps your arm but doesn’t pull away.

* “While we’re asking questions, Mike how much axe do you use?” Angela’s eyes are watering as you both laugh.

* “Like you’re one to talk, I can smell your strawberry shampoo two hallways over!”

* You watch the three of them untangle and start walking to the back exit from the gym.

* “So where do we go now? We can’t stay here.” Angela says

* “I was thinking maybe a coffee shop, if we take out books we might pass for having a free period” Jessica pipes in

* “Oh, how about the Arcade? A buddy of mine works there since he’s already on break from college, I don’t think he’ll minds us hanging out there.”

* So this is what Alice meant when she said everything was going to be okay.

*Your Human Friends were going to save you

*You haven’t forgotten Edward’s warning, someone did break your trust and let you down.

* But that’s what it means to build friendships, you open yourself to being hurt, and so do they.

* “Hey (Y/N/N), what do you think?” Mike asks, and they all turn around to notice you’re not walking with them.

*You try not to smile to wide. You don’t want to scare them off now.

* “I think there’s something fun about an arcade during the day, no lines.” You say, walking a little bit faster to catch up with your friends.

Tag list: @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show

[justalonelyslytherin]

Steve always said that New York was his city. It’s his home, his safe place, and his beating heart. Once, he’d told you that you were his beating heart. It’s hard to be in a city that reminds you so much of him. The pain never quite leaves, an ever-present ache in your chest as you go about your day. If you could break your lease, you’d leave, but that isn’t an option, at least right now. Instead, you’ve changed as much as you can.

This breaks my heart. Poor girl. Steve really left a hole behind in her and it hurts that she feels so displaced - perhaps even outright unwelcome - now.

Memories of him are in every monument, every crosswalk, and every tucked-away apartment. They come in on whispers of wind and the crash of trash cans outside your building, and they break your heart every single time.

Love the wording of his. You describe things beautifully

There’s movement in the aisle and you open your eyes to see the man approaching you. He’s leering, something between a creepy smile and sneer on his face, and you tense.

Uh oh. I'm sensing stranger danger.

The girl down the way is watching with wide eyes and while you’re thankful it’s you and not her, you still don’t want to be in this situation.

I'm thankful for that too but at the same time, I hate that the guy is focused on her now.

Steve’s closing the distance between you now.

Even then he is ever the savior and protector!

“That’s enough,” Steve firmly tells him, positioning himself between you and the man. He’s like a brick wall, and you relax a little in his shadow.

Somehow this is so comforting to read.

His ass is right in your face, and if you look too much, you’re bound to say something utterly embarrassing about it when this is all over.

Haha better view than to watch the drunken, scary guy Steve is now facing off.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice gentler. When you don’t answer, he tries again. “Y/N? Please just let me know if you’re okay.” I don’t want to talk to you.

The entire conversation between them feels painful and somewhat awkward. It makes it feel so real, especially since she is still hurting so much.

“Good. I’ve, uh, I’m okay, too.”

Liar. That's so obviously a lie.

Steve looks surprised. “You haven’t seen them in years. Why are they in town? Did you get to meet Mallory’s daughter?” He remembers that she had a baby?

Sir you are giving yourself away. And don't come with the super soldier photographic memory excuse. I don't buy he just let her go without any remorse. He might have not been ready for something serious but still

but when he glances out the window at the second-to-last stop, you catch a glimpse of something you hadn’t noticed before—sadness. You recognize it immediately. You’ve seen that same look in your eyes every time you’ve looked in the mirror since Steve broke up with you.

While this entire story was laced with the sadness that is deeply lodged in both of them, it was a very sweet and also comforting read. I enjoyed the overall tone of the story very much. The ending was so good!

Until We Get Home

Title: Until We Get Home

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Verbal harassment and threats, language,  mentions of alcohol and drinking

Summary: It’s 2am and you should be in bed, but you’re on the subway instead. Unfortunately, so is your ex.

A/N: This is based on the song “Another New York Love Story” from the musical “In Pieces”. As always, thanks for supporting me in all the ways you do. Lots of love, and thank you for reading!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Tara had promised you that dinner wouldn’t be more than a few hours, especially since you’d worked all day and you have work again tomorrow. It would be a few drinks, some food, and then maybe a little bit of catching up if the restaurant wasn’t too packed. The restaurant is packed, but it’s packed when you get there, so your college friend makes the executive decision to move your shindig to the bar across the street. That bar turns out to be a club that’s equally as packed as the restaurant, but clubs are supposed to be packed, so no one complains. You don’t complain either, considering you haven’t seen Tara and the others for almost four years.

I should’ve complained, you think. Maybe only a little, though.

The stairs down to the station seem to be moving as you climb down in your suddenly precarious heels, and it takes you a second at the bottom to right yourself. Maybe you had one drink too many. Despite your giddiness at spending so much time with your friends, you’re exhausted. It’ll be okay, though, because it’s two in the morning. There’s bound to be plenty of open seats on the train, meaning that you won’t have to stand for a little while—fourteen stops, to be exact. You’ve got some time to sober up.

Keep reading

[brooklinn13]

(Mines) dark!Venable x Reader

Summary: you and your girlfriend was invited to a house party. What happen when someone tries to flirt with you.

Warning: swearing, spanking, orgasm denial, eating the reader out,mommy kink

A/N: this is my first Venable fic and I’m sorry if it’s short but I hope y’all like it. This is a soft! dark! Venable fic and I suck at writing right now so if this suck ass I’m so sorry

Tag list: @kitty4860 @lavenderahs @d3monslust @celestialrequiem

You and your girlfriend were invited to CoCo House party. It took weeks for you to convince mina to come. She doesn't like being around a lot of people but you got so happy when coco give you an invitation at work the other day. “Come on Mina it’s going to be fun trust me, we going to have a great time being the hottest couple there,” you said smiling. “Fine.” Mina said. “Great you're not going to regret it,” you said. When the two of you got home you decide to get ready for the party. You decide to wear a cute tight dress to show off your body more, you when to mina's office to show her your outfit for the party.” So what do you think?” Mina was too busy on her laptop she didn't look up to see your dress.

“Change your dress I don't like how it looks on you,” Mina said still not looking at you. “But you haven't look at the dress yet. You're too busy on your laptop to give a shit,” you said frustrated. Mina finally took her eyes from her laptop and look at you dead in the eyes. “Go and change y/n and don't make me repeat myself. I don't like it when people look at you and not with you wearing this dress trying to be a slut.” she said. You listen and when to change your outfit to a simple flower dress which was cute but it wasn't your first pick. After you got dress you when back to Mina's office to see if she was ready, and to your surprise, she wasn't. “Mina what's taking so long.” “I'm coming let me finish this and then we can go.”

“NO.” you yelled. “Get your ass in the car we going to be late.” and after that, you walk out of her office, and you when in the car waiting for her. After 10 minutes of waiting she finally got in the car, the car ride there was silent no one dare talk. You can see Mina is very angry and you have a feeling you're going to get punished when you get back home. When the two of you arrive at CoCo party you hurry up and got out of the car and ran to see your best friend Mallory. Mina hates Mallory because she thinks she's going to take you away from her but that's not the case, you love Mina with all your heart even when she is cold and mean to you. You spend most of your time with Mallory and leaving Mina by herself, you and Mallory were having a conversation when you notice and Tall dark-haired man come walking towards you.

“Hello my name is James and your name is. “Hi, my name is y/n.” the two of you started a conversation Mallory left to talk to her girlfriend CoCo leaving you and the tall handsome man to y'all self. You notice him flirting with you telling you how pretty you are and how he wants to take you out on a date. You kept on smiling he was sweet but you have a girlfriend, you finally told him you were in a relationship you see his smile drop but he told you y'all can go just as friends and you agree to go with him on a coffee date just friends. Mina heard y'all whole conversation and she was not having it. She walks up to you and grabs a handful of your hair and drags you to an empty room and she pushes inside. “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING Y/N,” Mina said yelling.

“I’m just making new friends, I'm not doing anything wrong.” “Oh really because it seems like your going on a date with that guy downstairs.” you look at her in fear scary to see what your punishment is this time.” Mommy, I'm sorry okay I-I won't go okay. Please don't punish me,” you said crying. Mina wasn't having any of it she pushes you on the bed and rips the dress off your body. “Spread your fucking legs out and start counting and if you stop I'm going to start all over again do you hear me slut.” “Y-yes m-mommy.”

Smack

“One, thank you mommy.”

Smack

“Two, thank you mommy.”

Smack

“Three, thank you mommy.”

Smack

“F-four, thank you, mommy.”

Smack

“Five, thank you, mommy.”

After ten more spanks you were a crying mess. “You took your punishment so well from me baby and now I'm going to give you, your reward.”Mina got on the bed and spread your legs out more. She started eating you out, you grab her red hair so tight you hear her yelp in pain. “Mhm mommy it feels so good,” you said moaning. You keep on moaning her name over and over again. You were getting closer and closer to cum.”Mommy, I'm gonna cum, please let me cum mommy.” “No,” she said and she pulled away for you. “Go clean yourself up and when you get home be ready because I'm not done with you yet and don't forget y/n your mines every inch of your body is mines.”

A/N: okay this is bad and I'm sorry but I hope y'all like it I have more fics I'm working on and trying to get out. And I may make a part 2 only if y'all want it.