#the countess is not needed here fuck her

[tagidearte]

The brain rot is so massive I'm now considering a fire watchtower au set in France, either late XX century or on the first half of the 2000s. Where vampires are of course still a thing. Mizrak takes the job as a fire watcher for summer after a conflict within his church, following Emmanuel's advice to get away for a bit. Olrox is already there working for reasons I won't share in case I ever write this. They are separated by miles, of course, their towers spread apart as they start talking in the evenings before the sun sets using walkie talkies (Olrox is on night shift, of course). Job related convos that quickly get personal. Mizrak the fools starts getting attached, maybe out of loneliness over rarely seeing other people (except the ocasional hikers or the park ranger, who would be Annette in this AU), maybe out of other desires. Olrox irks him, yet there's a weird pull in there, something he can't quite describe. Annoying as much as it is comforting. A voice, nothing else, yet what a voice it is. He wonders what body it is attached to. He starts losing focus doing prayer, ears always alert for the static of the device, the call of his name. He pretends it's because he doesn't want to be distracted in case a fire starts spreading.

Of course they have walkie talkie sex at some point before ever seeing each other, too. Long talks as well, because the show barely has them interacting yet I think their chats would be oh so fun to write.

But of course, vampires still exist. Mizrak slowly notices there are weird things happening in the forest. Something is not quite right, not quite normal. Eventually, he figures out Olrox is not quite right either.

Castlevania Nocturne is such a short show. Why am I wanting to write such a character heavy fanfic when we barely know these men's backgrounds.

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: Welcome to Part 1! You guys have really warmed by heart with all the anticipation for this series, so thank you so much. I think it's going to be a fun ride. 😉

Song Inspo: “Magic” by Olivia Newton-John. And check out the full “Lost on You Playlist” here. There’s going to be lots of ‘80s music in this series!

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: SB being an entitled asshole (strap in for a lot of that), misogyny, bullying, and a “meet cute” of sorts…

🎙️ Series Masterlist || YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 1: Siren Song

April 3, 1983

“Why the fuck wasn’t I consulted about this?” Soldier Boy groused.

Arthur Cohen, otherwise known as “The Legend,” released a heavy puff of his cigar within the relative privacy of his office. Vought afforded him a great deal of luxuries, at the cost of days like this.

So, he’d offered the supe one of his most coveted Cubans to pacify him. Because true to form, he was edging closer to a temper tantrum by the minute.

“This decision came from on high, my friend,” Arthur said, with a smile that hid his inner anxiousness. He tapped some ash off his cigar with a finger adorned by a gaudy gold ring. “Stan Edgar, Stillwell, even the entire board of directors signed off on this one.”

“I don’t give a fuck who bought into this PR bullshit,” Soldier Boy postured, crossing his arms across his dark green supe suit as he leaned into the plush seat adjacent to Arthur’s desk. He raised a solid boot on the edge of the newly polished mahogany, and then another, crossing them at the ankles. His cigar was balanced between his teeth in the corner of his mouth.

“The last thing we need,” he said, pausing to inhale. Then he took the cigar from his lips to blow out smoke in hot annoyance. “Is another broad on the team.”

Arthur inclined his head. “I understand your concerns.”

“Do you?” Soldier Boy snorted. “Countess is bitch enough to deal with, believe you me.”

Arthur sympathized. He knew Crimson Countess’s attitude well, but he supposed Soldier Boy had license to say so more than anyone else, considering she was his girlfriend.  

“Look, I could give you the numbers: expected profit margins, demographics, etcetera, but you don’t get paid to hear that from me,” Arthur said, with a magnanimous hand gesture and a fair bit of old Jewish charm. “I’m askin’ you to trust me. This girl’s good, okay? Not just a wig and a pair a’ tits. Nah, she’s got talent. Got a set of pipes on her too, my God.”

Soldier Boy gave him a sly look. 

“Not like that,” Arthur said. He shook his head in amusement, but not with the face of a man who hadn’t already thought about the girl’s pretty mouth. He stroked his chin.

“She’s…interesting. Well, you’ll see. If she brings up the ratings the way we hope, we’ll be able to relocate Swatto. Hopefully to Siberia. He’s a fucking PR nightmare waiting to happen.”

“All right, the guy’s a moron, but he’s fucking hilarious,” Soldier Boy said, smirking. “Like one of the three Stooges.”

Yeah. Arthur wondered if that homeless man Swatto almost split open in Central Park after a sneeze thought he was funny. 

“And her powers. Really?” Soldier Boy went on. His brows drew together then, as he frowned. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.

But he could see that Soldier Boy wasn’t convinced. The supe rolled his eyes and released another puff.

“Anyway. I’m fucking bored. What’s the next project?” he said. Arthur took an unfiltered breath and peeked at the files strewn across his desk.

“Well, Red Thunder is coming out this fall. We’re pretty sure it’s gonna be the blockbuster of the year,” he replied. “After that, we’ll see about writing a sequel.”

If it makes back the millions we spent in production going over budget, thanks to this asshole’s weekly benders, he mentally added.

“I don’t care about a bullshit sequel,” Soldier Boy said dismissively. “I want to do something new.”

“Something new,” Arthur intoned.

The supe raised a brow. Again, the cigar was balanced between his teeth.

“Yeah.”

He really must be bored, Arthur thought, if he actually wants to work.

“All right, let me brainstorm on that for ya,” Arthur said. “Matter of fact, tell you what. Give me ‘til the end of the week. In the meantime, we’ve got the security team monitoring the police scanner for potential saves.”

The supe didn’t look impressed. His brows furrowed, as if he was irritated that he didn’t get an immediate answer, but his slight nod signaled his agreement before he finally got up from his chair. His boots dragged off Arthur’s desk, knocking over a framed picture of his kids with it, and thudded heavily on the ground. He left the office thereafter.

Arthur heaved a breath of exasperation. He didn’t get paid enough for this shit. 

Fucking supes.

But he didn’t dare utter that thought out loud.

It was days before Ben finally crossed paths with the new girl. Not that he’d been giving the idea much thought.

After that day in Arthur’s office, Ben became engrossed in his own devices—namely one of the assistants, Joanna, his stylist, Angela, and Rachel, his maid, after Donna blew him off for dinner for the third night in a row. This time for some tree-hugging conservationist gala of some kind. 

Frigid bitch, he thought, shaking his head. 

On his way to the gym, he passed the T&T Twins gossiping. Just the sight of them irritated him. Tommy was a kiss-ass, and Tessa shared a brain cell with her brother, so she wasn’t saying much for her gender either. 

“Would you pick your tongue off the floor already! You’re so disgusting,” Tessa said, shoving her brother.

“What? She’s fucking hot,” Tommy snapped in defense. When they finally saw Ben coming, Tessa piped down with her attempt at a “demure” greeting.

Tommy came in hot with a too bright voice and a, “Hey, boss!”

Ben gave them a stoic nod, fully intending to blow past them.

“Have you met the new girl yet?” Tommy asked, with an unmistakable pop of his brows and indecent smile.

Ben nearly rolled his eyes. “No.”

And don’t fucking care, his tone conveyed. He continued on his way to the gym. Behind him, the twins gave each other a look, and a shrug.

When he got to the gym, Journey was playing overhead. Ben frowned as he saw Black Noir working out by himself. The young man wasn’t wearing his suit. Instead, he was bare-chested and running on a treadmill with a nearly 90-degree incline, sweat glistening on his skin. 

Fucking show off, Ben thought. 

Then there was Gunpowder, his young sidekick, practicing his archery. Ben went to him and slapped a hand on his back in greeting, none too gently. The teen stumbled, his arrow landing into the wall instead of the target. 

“Spot me at the bench, ey kid,” said Ben. “And grab me a towel while you’re at it.”

“Uh, sure,” Gunpowder replied, ducking his head as he went. Ben got settled at his usual bench press machine, sliding his back down the thin leather cushion. He waited for the kid to add on his fifty-pound weights on either side, until it reached two hundred pounds. That was just the warm-up. 

“You met the new girl yet?” Ben asked, after he began lifting his first rep. Gunpowder stood behind his head.  

“No, sir,” he said. “Haven’t seen her yet.”

“I haven’t either,” said Noir. He’d come over on his way to the showers, regaining his breath all the while. Ben gave him a sharp side-eye.

“Did I fucking ask you?” he said. 

Noir paused. He hid his frown behind a stoic front, since he didn’t have his mask to do it for him. He toweled off his face and chest as he left the gym. 

Ben shook his head, but he never broke stride on the bench press. 

You seemed to be mysterious. 

Barely anyone had seen you, and you hadn’t gone out of your way to ingratiate yourself with every member of the team, like Ben would’ve expected. Donna had set him in her sights on her very first day.

With fake demure in her hazel eyes, a flick of her long red hair over her shoulder, and a sultry smile, she’d let him take her hand and bring it up to his lips for a gentlemanly kiss. 

That same night, she’d accepted his invitation up to his suite and let him do some very ungentlemanly things. Ben smirked at the memory as he made his way down Vought Tower’s infinite hallways. She sure knew her way around some kinky shit.  

And she still did, the little minx. She’d just been putting the freeze on his balls lately, for whatever her reasons were this time. He didn’t pretend to care or keep track at this point. 

If people only knew what a royal pain Crimson Countess was.

Ben was only taken out of his thoughts when he heard someone singing in the breakroom, gently, but beautifully. He couldn’t make out the words though. He stopped and leaned inside the doorway, just to see who it was. It was early enough in the morning that he was surprised anyone but him was awake.

You were standing there at the counter, making some coffee from the percolator. Soft and dulcet notes fell from your lips in some kind of lullaby. Quirking a brow, the oddness of it managed to draw Ben’s steps into the kitchen. You were wearing a leather supe suit that molded to your every curve, not unlike Donna’s, except yours was black with violet trim lines.

You eventually noticed him with a smile.

“Good morning, sir.”

Ben gave you a charming grin, blatantly eying you from breast to toe before he noted that the coffee had finished percolating. 

"Hey there, sweetheart,” he said. “Pour me a cup, would ya?" 

You did so, and he admired the graceful movements of your hands, and the sweet sound of your voice as you continue to hum to yourself. 

"You're a little crooner, aren't you?" he asked, taking the plain white coffee mug from you. 

When your hand brushed his, he felt it.

Your power.

It threatened to overtake him, drawing you into him like the crash and current of a tidal wave, where he couldn’t help but be pulled undertow. There in that darkness, he craved your warmth as well as your body. The thought, the need gripped him at his core… 

He wanted you to devour him, body and soul.

And he finally registered that your eyes were glowing violet, along with your knowing smile. 

Then you blinked. The violet haze was gone, along with your hold on his mind. 

You went back to sipping your coffee as if nothing had just happened. Ben faltered, mentally and physically as he was forced to grip the counter. He even had to catch his breath as his mind reeled from the loss of connection. 

He covered his unbalance with a steely, angry frown. What the fuck just fucking happened?

He looked at you harder than before, drawing himself to his full height and towering over you. Still, you didn’t seem all that intimidated.

“What the hell did you just do?” he growled.

Your knowing, easy smile remained. 

“Nothing,” you replied. “Just a little smoke.”

Ben’s eyes widened.

“Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

How the hell had you heard about that?

He quirked a brow, but you just sipped your coffee with a gentle slurp. Your gaze moved away from him as you went to the fridge to take out a carton of eggs.

“Want some breakfast? I’m thinking of making some eggs, sunny side up,” you said.

Ben’s hand clenched at his side, but then, he forced himself to relax. Or at least, to look relaxed. You had some fucking audacity to try toying with him…but he had to admit, you were something new.

Interesting.

“What’s your name?” he asked, in a tone that demanded.

“Sirena,” you answered. Your superhero name, which he’d already known when Stan Edgar told him about you a week ago.

Ben’s frown deepened, but he reminded himself to retain some charm. He took your chin between his fingers. His grip was light, but his green eyes were intense, and focused on you. 

“No. Your real name, sweetheart,” he said, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

You blinked, but you obliged him with your name, and a smile that edged at flirtation.

“What’s yours?” you returned.

He had to smirk. He knew you knew full well who he was.

“Call me Ben,” he said.

Three Days Ago…

You tried not to be completely overwhelmed by the sight of this huge tower as you pulled your suitcase behind you. Vought-American was an institution of superhero production, and Payback was the face of it all. The absolute pinnacle.

I still can’t believe they chose me, you thought, but you tried not to let that show. You needed to make it seem like you knew what you were doing. You belonged here, and you were seizing this chance.

Madelyn Stillwell, the head of Superhero Public Relations, personally greeted you at the gate and showed you up to your room. However, you’d barely gotten a chance to step inside and look around before her pager went off. She wore a certain smile when she saw the number on the screen. She tossed a strand of strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and glanced up at you.

“Sorry, sweetie. I have an appointment to get to, but the directory is there on your desk if you need anything. Feel free to get comfortable,” she said, gesturing at you with her pager in hand. “I’ll be back in an hour or so to give you a tour of the building.”

“Okay, thank you so—”

The door closed behind her before you could even finish your sentence. That deflated you a little, but you tried not to let that small exchange bring you down. Your apartment was huge. Or at least, it was much bigger than the shoebox you left in the Village, let alone the Brooklyn brownstone you grew up in, sharing with two other families on each floor.

You hefted your suitcase onto the bed and began to unpack your clothes, makeup, and toiletries. 

You also took out the only framed picture you had—one that housed your parents and your older brother Chris. You were both grown already, but in this picture, you were barely twelve years old. That little girl didn’t know that her entire world was about to change, when her powers manifested for the first time. 

That thought did succeed in dimming your mood for a moment, but you sighed and set the frame down on your new dresser. You’d have to remember to call Chris. His son was turning four years old in a few weeks. 

Though your attention shifted to a black shape in the corner of your eye. It was a garment bag hanging on the closet door. You went over and unzipped it, revealing your new super suit. It was all black leather and violet accent lines down the sides, along the collar, and down between the breasts in a V-shape. It was strategic to accentuate curves and bust. 

You whistled lowly. It was beautiful, but Jesus did it look tight. 

“Wow,” you remarked, trying out the zipper up and down. “They really like their leather, huh?”

Still, you itched to try it on. After a few minutes of struggling and wiggling, you managed to get into the suit. They’d taken exact measurements, so it did look good. You felt like a new person…a superhero.

You smiled at yourself in the bathroom mirror. But then, you forced the smile off your face and shook your head, schooling your expression into something less doe-eyed and pathetic. More in control.

There you are, Sirena, you thought. You had long ago trained yourself with that enigmatic look. You knew how it felt on your face. The easiest way for you to get what you wanted in this world, the way you’d gotten this far, was with this exact face.

Only show them what you want them to see.   

Almost two hours later, you’d finished unpacking your belongings and explored every corner of your new beautiful apartment, but still, Miss Stillwell wasn’t back yet.

You checked your watch and hummed to yourself. Your curiosity getting the best of you, you decided to leave your apartment and explore the tower by yourself. You took off the suit as well, so you could make your way around more anonymously. You were sure no one really knew who you were yet. 

Your theory was proven true when you walked through the halls, passing Vought employees without even a blink in your direction. That was okay though. Soon enough, all these people would know your face, as well as your name. 

You reached one of the top floors, where you thought you remembered The Legend’s office was supposed to be (according to the directory). Maybe you could meet him and get a jump start on your schedule.

You stopped short, however, when an office door slid open. Out came a slightly disheveled Miss Stillwell. Her blouse was hastily tucked into her gray pencil skirt, and strands of her blonde hair were a bit frizzy as they brushed her shoulders, as if she’d combed them down with her fingers. You plastered yourself to a wall around the corner, only peeking around after she passed by.

Your brows popped up incredulously when you read the name plate beside the door she just came out of.

Stan Edgar…holy shit. His signature was on my contract!

Along with Arthur Cohen, or The Legend, as Stillwell had told you when she welcomed you in. He was the Senior Vice President of Hero Management, so who the hell was Stan?

Well, whoever he was, he was giving it to the head of PR.

Okay then. You shook your head and continued on your way. At the end of the hall, you finally found the right office. You were about to open the door, when you heard male voices coming from inside—one older and dry, and the other deep and strong.

You reached out with your awareness and allowed your powers to engage, likely making your eyes glow with a violet hue.

Sure enough, you sensed two men in the room. And as the voices raised, you recognized one of them. It was unmistakable; you’d been taking the time to binge all of his movies for the past month, ever since you auditioned to get into Payback.

Soldier Boy. 

A smile spread across your face. For a moment, you were incredibly excited…until you actually heard what he was saying.

“The last thing we need is another broad on the team.”

Your mouth fell open in shock as your brows drew together. You carefully pressed yourself to the door and kept listening.

“And her powers. Really?” he said. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.

You glared at the door furiously, as if you could burn lasers out of your eyes. You crossed your arms, but you breathed evenly as you strived to keep your emotions contained. 

Control, you reminded yourself. With another deep breath, you managed to let go of your ire, but the more you listened to the conversation, the more impossible that became. You turned away from the door and made clipped strides down the hall.

You knew you had to tread carefully here. You’d heard some of the real stories about Payback, because you’d taken the time to listen. You weren’t about to enter Vought Tower without having some idea of what you were getting into, and you knew you’d have to prove yourself as the rookie on the team. You just hadn’t expected their leader to be such a chauvinistic asshole. 

Though inwardly, you snorted. Well, the guy is from the ‘40s. Best generation, indeed.

You rolled your shoulders and shook it away, like water off your proverbial feathers. Your mouth set in a firm line as you held your head high.

The game begins, you thought.

For the next few days, you watched. You studied each member of your new “team” as you encountered them, and you quickly realized that this team wasn’t much of one. 

They looked out for themselves, and bickered amongst themselves, in the case of the TNT Twins. Crimson Countess had given you a lovely, polite face that still somehow mocked you when she walked away, along with the bounce of her red hair. 

Your powers didn’t allow you to sense or read women, but you recognized a diva when you saw one.

Clearly, she was used to being the woman on top, especially as Soldier Boy’s girlfriend. You wanted to roll your eyes at the thought. From what you’d heard (and the masculine cologne you smelled on Arthur’s assistant Joanna yesterday), Soldier Boy got around. His relationship with Countess was either very open, or it was well-crafted PR.

You had another growing, unsettling thought. The more information you gathered just by observing the team, the more you had a hard time believing that you were ever going to fit in around here. 

It was only your third day in the Tower though, you reminded yourself, as you got dressed for the day in your suit. That kind of negativity wouldn’t serve you here. 

So you left your apartment in search of coffee and breakfast at the breakroom and lounge area, exclusive to the team. You supposed these guys were either late sleepers, or they got their food brought to them. You were relieved to find the room empty, and you let out a deep breath.

Remember why you’re here, you thought. It’s not about you. 

It had never been about you. 

You rummaged through the cupboards in search of the one thing that would perk you up—good coffee. You found it near the top shelf and began to prep the coffee maker. You hummed to yourself while your hands moved on autopilot. The tune strengthened, deepening and then sweetening on higher trills. 

Suddenly, your spine prickled. Your mind buzzed faintly with awareness as you sensed a presence.

It was familiar and overwhelmingly male, with heavy, confident steps coming down the hall. You tilted your head and frowned. 

Soldier Boy, that asshole. 

But then, your lips curved upwards. This could be fun. 

When Soldier Boy walked into the breakroom, he noticed you. You pretended not to realize he was there, but you felt the heat of his gaze roaming over your body. You wanted to sigh. Predictable.

Right then, you made a quiet, firm decision. Today, this man was going to learn your name. And he wasn’t going to forget it. 

You turned to him with a smile when he approached—the most pleasant one you could manage.

“Good morning, sir.”

AN: Game, set, match. 😘💚 As many of you know, this story is expanding on this Soldier Boy imagine, which I wrote almost a year ago now. In the back of my mind though, I always thought this idea could be more someday.

So please let me know what you thought of Part 1! I'm so excited for you guys to see what's coming up next...

Next Time:

“Countess, I’m not trying to replace you. I’m not trying to take anything from you.”

“Except my boyfriend,” she shot back. Finally she turned her head towards you with cool disdain. “You think I didn’t see you flirting with him last night at the afterparty?”   

You rolled your eyes, though you hid a sliver of embarrassment. You should’ve known she’d spot that.

“He approached me, okay?” you said. Maybe you were about to let your pettiness to get the best of you, but you couldn’t help it. You smiled slyly. “And from what I hear, I’m the least of your worries. Looks like Ben has quite the appetite.”

The cracks of Countess’s cool façade finally broke through to anger.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

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[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 8

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, hurt , language, PTSD, mention of drugs, mention of torture

Word Count: 4674

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

You asked Ben again, “What did you do to those people?” while he continued to look at your furious and angered look.

He avoided watching the news and simply replied in a dry voice, “I didn't mean to hurt them. Everything happened so quickly.”

Despite your hopes that, after all this time, he would change a little, you came to the conclusion that his appearance was the only thing that had changed. He was the same guy who hurt everyone around him like they were just insects, never thinking twice about it. He remained the same merciless man who just cared about himself.

You were too ignorant to believe that it was Crimson Countess had drastically changed him, but this was simply another lie you told yourself in defense of Ben's behavior. It was just who he really was.

You talked softly while Butcher continued to watch TV, “How can you even stay the same after all the things that happened to you?”

“I killed the doctor who hurt and tortured you. You already knew; whatever I did for him, he deserved it,” he angrily said, gesturing to you as though he were doing you a favor and somehow trying to convince you.

“Should I feel like a graduate and thank you?” You questioned him bitterly, glaring at him. “You are the reason I spent decades being imprisoned and subjected to torture in vain. You are the reason I am currently homeless and the state's number two foe. How come you're still so blind and self-centered?”

Ben grumbled, “Calm down, baby,” ignoring your inquiries as he roughly grabbed the remote control out of Butcher's hand and flicked through the channels. “We can talk about things at a later time. For now, take a moment to rest.”

Ben continued to stare at the TV and shifted on the couch in an attempt to make himself more comfortable, so you replied, “Don't call me 'baby.'”

“It looks like Tony Montana is going to bed alone tonight.” With a cunning grin, Butcher attempted to reclaim the remote control from Ben's grasp. “Also, don’t be dramatic and so upset, you have a place to stay, you’re not homeless.”

“Tony Montana—who the fuck is he?” Ben muttered, pushing Butcher's hands a little too hard while refusing to give up the remote control. “I’m in charge in here. What I watch, you'll watch too.”

“Hey, you remember our deal, don't you? I'm hoping you won't back down.”

You turned to Butcher and questioned, “What deal?” with a confused gaze on your face when he suddenly started speaking in a serious and mysterious tone.

Ben stepped in immediately and shot Butcher a quick glance, saying, “It's not so important.”

“All right, there's nothing to worry about. Your teammate just promised me that he would help me kill a cunt named Homelander.”

Ben kept shooting Butcher with a deadly look as he immediately spilled the beans.

“I'm not worried about anything,” you cut Butcher off abruptly, averting Ben's tough stare. “Whatever he's up to, he's alone in this. But tell me, what’s deal about.”

“Sweetheart, I don't need your help anyway. You simply stay at home and take care of things while you chill,” Ben said in an amused way, attempting to hide his tiny sense of hurt that came from your coldness.

He didn't intend to include anything that would distress you further, but he couldn't stop remembering the times you supported and fought alongside him. He would never ask you to get involved in the Homelander situation, though, since he knows you've already been through a lot of terrible things. He was also too proud to accept your assistance.

Turning to face you, Butcher added, “You don’t have to be so ruthless. He made the deal to get help from me to save you.”

Butcher believed that, given Homelander's strength, helping him would be beneficial and that it would be great if you would just soften and offer a helping hand. Butcher knew Soldier Boy would be happy to let you fight alongside him, as he was aware that he took your suit from Legend. You were once the strongest superwoman, after all, and he would have a better chance of finally killing Homelander.

Hughie, thankfully, returned to join you with a meal in his hands before you could ask Butcher any more questions. You were so hungry that you didn't even realize it until you smelled pizza. It was all about pleasure, yet even if you starved for decades, you wouldn't die.

Hughie smiled hesitantly and said, “Sorry, I didn't ask you before ordering, but I hope you're okay with pizza.” It's likely that he was the only decent person in the room. You wondered why this person was willing to work with a man like Butcher. He gave off an air of deception.

“Of course it's okay,” you said as soon as you smelled it. You then gave him a graditude look and said, “Thanks a lot.”

Ben quickly got up, tossed the remote control in Butcher's face, and grabbed the pizza from Hughie's hands as he sat next to you before you could move. Ben stepped closer, spreading his legs a little and making contact with your thighs, but you put some distance between you two right away. You didn’t understand why he was acting like that out of the blue, but you didn’t ask anything.

None of you spoke, even though you felt Ben's gaze briefly lingering on you. Although you were unsure of what Ben truly wanted from you, you were determined to learn from your past mistakes. Therefore, it was best to clarify it for him as well.

Upon seeing Noir's visual on TV, you exclaimed in shock, “Is Noir still working for Vought?”

That was the moment you understood. Earving never came to save you. If he just wanted to, you knew he could and would find you. You could understand why he might not have wanted to take the risk of going through the same things with you if he had a legitimate reason for not saving you. You had no right to be selfish. However, you were certain that you would behave differently if he were in your place. You therefore couldn't help but feel a little let down.

Ben angrily remarked, “Of course he does,” as he watched you devour the pizza. “He wouldn't even take his shit without the permission of Vought. Fucking traitor. He didn't even give a fuck about the things you went through all those years. I had no doubts that he was going to abuse your friendship. There was always something sneaky about him.”

You couldn’t left out a small hiss as Ben started to talk about loyalty.

“All right,” you replied, casting him a piercing glance. “I got used to being betrayed.”

He aggressively exclaimed, “Don't compare me with that son of a bitch,” and launched into a self-defense tirade. “I came to save you too as soon as I was free, and I looked for you everywhere.”

“How could I ever compare you with him while I know you are worse. And yes, Ben, you're quite considerate to have searched me in the Countess' home. Many thanks for it.”

“I payed a visit to her because I knew she was most probably the one tricked you. It was nothing else.”

“Whatever,” you said back harshly. “I don’t care anyways.”

Butcher interrupted you after making a brief phone call in the kitchen, saying, “Listen here, Bonnie and Clyde. Hughie and I need to get out and meet some buddies, but if you're not going to make trouble and if you don't want to fuck in peace all night, it's best if you don't stay at home. In every other case of emergency, you need to join us.”

You hurriedly swallowed the large slice of pizza and gasped, “We won't... I mean, we wouldn't,” to Butcher. Your cheeks flushed. “It's not like we're together or anything, so don't misinterpret and talk like this, please.”

Ben leaned back to the coach and said, “Well, I'm all in, baby,” pleased to see you flushed and in a panic. “Keep in mind that. Since I'm free, I didn't even fucking jerk off once. You can use me however you like,” he stated, stretching his legs and making an attempt to brush against you briefly while grinning genuinely and invitingly.

You grumbled, “I'm trying to enjoy my meal here,” ignoring the absolute filth that was flowing from his mouth.

“All right, that's OK.” Butcher urged you to complete your dinner, saying, “You can continue eating where we go. We must leave in five minutes.”

Ben growled, “Don't fucking order her around.”

“It's fine,” you stopped eating right away. “Where we're going to go?”

“We have to get some Temp-V from Hughie's friend. It appears that we will need to use it soon,” Butcher replied, glancing at Ben. “Unfortunately, you can't beat Homeland with just one guy.”

Ben did not even respond to Butcher's crap; he only rolled his eyes. He was aware that Homelander would be the easiest to take down. He was Soldier Boy, and someone of Butcher's age wouldn't fully get who he was.

You and Ben were seated in the back of Butcher's car, and Ben was covering the whole place almost as if he wanted you to lean into his body. He was always on the move, both his hands and his legs, and occasionally you would think he looked a bit bashful if you didn't know just how arrogant he really was. Somehow, you sensed the uncertainty, but you didn't look him up or ask him questions.

You couldn't help but feel confused and depressed as you gazed out of the car window at the enormous, gleaming structures. You no longer felt like you belonged in the world because so many years had passed in a tiny little cage. It seemed as though no one knew you, cared about you, or you had no place to stay. It's not your world, but rather other people's, that you see when you peek out the window.

You said, “Everything looks so different,” as a sense of melancholy took over you.

“Not at all,” Ben remarked in an arrogant tone, as if he had figured out everything in a single day. “I've learned many things; I will teach you all; don't worry.”

You challenged him, casting him a skeptical glance. “What do you know?”

“Well, I might teach you a thing or two because you're too eager to learn. For instance, GPS and the Internet were quite helpful in helping us learn about you and the place you were kept,” he added with pride as he smiled at you and waited for your reaction.

You whispered, “You're just making those words up,” unsure if he was trying to trick you.

“Those words are real words. I had said the same to that fuckface; believe me, sweetheart,” he continued, giving Hughie a harsh shoulder pat. “Hand over your damn android phone to me.”

Hughie murmured in distress, “Oh, God,” as Butcher nodded awkwardly and gave him an odd look. “Just don’t break it or something, please.”

Hughie handed his phone reluctantly to Ben, who took it with a swift move, and Ben used it like a pro, tapping the screen quickly. When he wrote down his name and yours on the screen called 'Google', your eyes widened open as you saw a ton of images and details about the two of you, Payback, and everything else.

Captivated by what Ben showed you, you muttered, “Everything about us is written down there.”

“See,” he declared with pride, chuckling at your bewildered response. “I told you I was very well-informed. The name of this one is Internet.”

You challenged him again, interested in learning more about this small device, which seemed to know a lot of things. The modern world is unquestionably something else, with easy access to knowledge at any time and about any subject matter.

“I am familiar with social media. If you don't want to be identified by your real identity, you can put up a fake profile and follow anybody you want. I made one for the two of us as well.” Ben responded, seeming proud of everything he had achieved with a cunning smile on his face.

You pretended to understand everything he said as you asked, “And what's your fake name?”

“It’s ‘soldierboyy/n69.' Pretty creative, isn't it?”

“Oh my gosh, Ben,” you said, pushing the phone and his hands in an annoyed tone as your face turned red. “Everyone will know that it is you. I shall be accused of having once again supported your actions if they find out the identity of your account. Why do you act so carelessly?”

“Everyone has those fake names,” Ben said, grimacing at how much you disapproved of what he had done. Nobody will find out because I'm not using it anyway."

He intended to show you that he never thought of himself apart from you and that he thought of you even while he was setting up the account, but all he managed was to distress and upset you once more. Observing your defensively crossed arms on your chest, he sighed and moved his strong arms to your seat in an attempt to get close to you.

“How are you so sure?” you asked as he handed over the phone to Hughie in a rude manner.

“Because that's the way the modern world works, sweetheart. Nothing and anyone are real when it comes to Internet.”

“Indeed,” Butcher said, glancing at the two of you through the mirror. “He is right; no one will find out. It's not really a big deal; trust me, if it were, I would have problems as well because of him.”

You cut it short, closing your eyes and lowering your head to the seat. “Okay,” you mumbled.

It was as though some odd numbness overcame your body, leaving you exhausted and unbalanced even after decades of sleep. It was most likely due to the quantity of sleep that your body became accustomed to, and it's also possible that you were experiencing a side effect from what you experienced in the lab. Nonetheless, it didn't concern you because you knew you still had your strength. You only needed to get a bit more rest. As you closed your eyes to give your body a break until you got there, you inhaled deeply.

You slowly opened your eyes, feeling Ben's gentle touch on your cheek, and heard him say, “You really turned into sleeping beauty, didn't you?” in a lighthearted manner.

“Have we arrived?” you muttered as you opened your eyes and noticed his intense gaze on you. The moment Butcher and Hughie slammed the car door, you immediately fully came to your senses.

Ben nodded, confused, not knowing how to react to your coldness as you gently moved his hands away from your face.

Ben and you had just followed Butcher and Hughie to the small, slightly desolate house. You looked around the room, and the other two women, who were glancing at you warily, exchanged glances. You could tell they were supes, just like you, from the whiff of Comp-V in their scents. You were a little nervous because you had no idea what their intentions were toward you. You had no friends or someone to rely on anymore, and you were a stranger to everything after all.

“Ladies, how are you doing here?” Butcher grabbed a glass of whiskey from the kitchen and inquired as he sat down right away on the closest couch.

“I can't believe you and you especially you Hughie,” the blonde remarked angrily. “You two really set them both free, and you forced me to take so much Temp-V; we're going to be caught. It's only a matter of time.”

“So you're the supe woman that bottom-faced guy pounding?” Ben aggressively exclaimed, pushing the short-haired man to the right while he snatched a cola from the refrigerator. “And the one who works for Vought when you're not getting off and doing other things.”

“Stop it, Ben,” you said in a warned tone as his abrupt aggression caused the air to thicken.

“Why don't we just sit down and have a nice chat?” Hughie looked at you anxiously, as if you wanted to soothe Ben before anything happened.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he said, flashing you a cunning grin when he spotted you approaching him, and you gave him a cold look while he sipped his coke in joy.

“Well, Annie, that it wasn't in vain. Soldier Boy and I struck very useful bargain, didn't we?” Butcher inquired, glancing back to Ben with a sly smile. “We're going to kill Homelander together.”

You felt uneasy, and your thoughts turned to the Homelander once again. Even if you didn't care about Ben at all, you couldn't help but feel concerned because you were both strangers to Vought and the outside world now that Ben had gotten into so much trouble. Not only did you not want to return to the lab, but you also didn't want Ben to go through the same painful experiences. Even though he had been vile to you, you didn't want him to suffer forever in Russia.

Annie replied, “You should have told me, Hughie,” casting a disappointed glare at her boyfriend. “You’re so acting strangely these days.”

Hughie insecurely responded, “I know, I know,” rubbing her cheeks. “And I’m really sorry for it. It won’t happen again.”

The man with short hair said, “You all know that they both are being searched by the government, right?”

Butcher shot back, “Of course we all fucking know that, Frenchie.”

Annie looked at you and said, “Well, I guess Y/N's situation is worse,” while you stood by Ben, watching him carefully to make sure he didn't suddenly lose his temper and start some serious drama. “Well, she's a known traitor after all.”

You immediately defended yourself by saying, “I'm not a traitor,” and you were enraged at her haughty demeanor. Despite her lack of knowledge, she was constantly talking about things she had no idea about. “Vought only spread lies and caused us pain in order to build up the next generation, which is your generation. They tortured me for years just because I wanted to quit.”

Annie's expression softened as she realized that Vought would do something like that and that she was having trouble as well in Seven. She then apologized to you by looking at you and sincerely saying, “I'm sorry to hear that.”

She went on, making an effort to get you to see how complicated the situation was, saying, “But you need to understand that no one will believe you. For all this time, you have been regarded as a spy for the entire world. The same remains for Soldier Boy.”

“What is your point?” Ben cut her off with a harsh voice.

Ben was becoming mad at those morons; they were just some stupid kids who liked to order other kids around, but he was a man, a true leader, the strongest supe to live, and they had no idea what him and you had been through or who had been in charge decades earlier. He was already becoming a little tense about that blonde's cunning ideas, so he realized he had to proceed with caution going forward. He had to watch out for you too, in order to keep you safe.

With defensive hands on her hips, Annie retorted, “The thing is, it's best if you don't see each other for a while. I can help you spend a week in various secure locations, separated.”

Ben abruptly tensed up, enraged that the blonde had already made plans in her cunning mind to keep him away from you. “No fucking way,” he said. He was certain that those fucked-brains would propose something so incredibly moronic.

Even if it made sense, you realized those new guys weren't to be trusted as they were strangers. It was true that you needed some alone time apart from Ben, but for the time being, it was preferable to ignore what you’re told.

“Everyone is talking about what happened in New York and Ohio,” Annie said furiously. “I’m just asking you two be hidden for a week. Everything’s already complicated in Vought and I have my own problems.”

“Look, sneaky woman,” Ben hissed, “I don’t give fuck about your problems or anything at all. If you ever suggest such thing, you won’t have a head to think such idiotic things anymore. I’m warning you.”

“Ben, you need to calm down,” you said. You scowled at the feeling that his chest was unusually heated compared to normal. 

Frenchie agreed, saying, “Y/N is right; there is no need to fight each other.” The supe woman next to him smiled and patted his shoulders.

Butcher responded, “Annie is right too, though,” as he examined the Temp-V carefully on his lap. “Too much attention has been paid to Soldier Boy during the past three days. We are also doomed if he is seen soon enough.”

“They could be right,” you acknowledged, nodding to Butcher, understanding that his points were reasonable. Since you and Ben were currently the state's number one and two foes, you also didn't want to get into any sort of trouble.

Ben cursed, “Fuck that,” and he gave Butcher a menacing stare. He got offended at the fact that you instantly agreed with them but not with him. “I didn't realize I had done business with so many jerks. If you're that afraid of what's ahead, I might accept your suggestion, but Y/N is staying with me.”

“Calm down, buddy. Why are you so obsessed?” Butcher questioned, putting the bag down from his lap.

When you realized Ben was about to start an argument without reason, you asked him, “Why are you being like this?” in an irritated tone.

“Are you saying that you're prepared to follow those fuckfaces' instructions?” While you could tell he was angry, he inquired quietly, “What's wrong with you?”

Ben set down the coke and paid no attention to Butcher's irritating remarks. Instead, his attention was drawn to you. The fact that you didn't trust him but did trust the new people you had met most disturbed him. It was not them who saved you, but it was him who considered your safety and future. Still, you were ready to follow what they had to say. You'd been away from each other for a long time, so there was no reason to spend another minute separately.

“I'm not saying anything, Ben. I just want you to quit being irrationally dissatisfied and to be reasonable.”

Butcher sighed as he watched you start to debate, but Annie grasped Hughie's arm and guided him to another room to have a conversation.

Ben stated, “I'm not getting angry for no reason,” while attempting to stay controlled.

Despite Ben was desperate to touch you, he restrained himself since he knew that you two needed to have discussed the situation before acting on it. How in the world was he supposed to talk to you properly after a week apart? “I'm just saying, we don't have to spend a week alone and separated,” Ben said with a low voice.

Your eyes wandered around everywhere except for him.

“I'm not sure, Ben,” you teased him, feeling hesitant about his response. “Maybe we should.”

“How can you be sure that those people won't imprison you to a metal box once more? Do you really want to go back to that lab? You're saying you have faith in them, but not in me?”

You angrily gasped, “Don't you ever talk to me about trust. I would never make the same mistake by trusting you again.”

He tried to calm himself down, saying, “I'm the only one who saved you,” but the heat inside his chest kept growing.

“Will you stop arguing?” Butcher got up and asked, watching Ben trap you against the kitchen table while grinning at Ben and sipping his whiskey. “She obviously wants to be by herself for a while. Would you please just accept her decision and let her to enjoy herself?”

Ben angrily remarked, “Mind your fucking own business; we are fucking having a conversation here.”

You stopped disputing with him and cast a puzzled glance at his chest as soon as you felt the warmth in his chest increasing once more.

Butcher said, “It's like you're forcing her for something she doesn't want to though. Don't be such a drama queen,” ignoring Frenchie's warnings. “She might just want to spend time alone in a nice place and fuck with some hot dudes, savor the time she missed all those years.”

Ben snarled, turning to face Butcher and ignoring you this time. “Watch your fucking language," he growled. “If you say one more word, I fucking swear I'll rip your heads off.”

Ben's chest began to glow suddenly before he could finish his sentence, and your eyes widened, sensing the anxiety and the heat coming from his body.

“Ben,” you whispered quietly, uneasy with his rage and the anguish on his face, as if he tried to maintain self-control.

With an expression of fright on his face, Frenchie and the supe woman next to him also retreated a step. “Calm down, buddy,” Butcher muttered. “Let's not cause another accident. You've already done enough damage, huh. ”

But Ben's chest continued to glow, alerting you. “Hey, what's wrong with you?” you asked as you walked up to him, stroking his arms and then his face and making him to look at you.

He snarled, “I can't hold it,” and shoved your hands away right away. “Stay away from me.”

Instead of following commands, you remained in the same spot and continued to massage his upper arms in an effort to soothe him though you got extremely anxious. Then, in the hopes of calming him down a little, you put your hands on his burning, hot chest. Even if there was smoke slightly arising from his body, your hands felt chilly.

You whispered, “It's okay,” feeling his temperature drop beneath your fingertips gradually.

Next Chapter

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A/N: Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! -`♡´-

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Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series. -`♡´-

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 14: You're All I'm Dreaming Of

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

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter fourteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 5.8K

Warnings: References to sex, Mentions of sex (not really explicit), Self-detrimental thoughts, Cursing, Drinking/Snorting Drugs, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

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

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Previously:

"Y/f/n Y/l/n?" The dark haired man asks, an accent tilting the ends of his words.

"Who's asking?"

He pulls out a badge, holding it up to the peep hole. "I'm Agent Butcher, this is Agent Campbell. We’re from the CIA, here to ask you a couple of questions about Soldier Boy."

You open the door to look at them. "The rapper?"

"What?" Agent Butcher looks confused.

"The rapper? Soulja Boy-" You arch a brow feigning confusion. "Because honestly I don't understand why the CIA would be asking me about that."

“No.” Agent Butcher holds up a photo.

You keep your face impassive. It’s a photo of Ben and you at a movie premiere the week before he left to go to Nicaragua.

“You’re here to talk to me about my mom?” You flit your eyes back to the two men standing in the doorway, easily slipping into the lie that you and Legend invented.

“Your mom?” Agent Campbell looks confused.

“Yeah. Indigo. Who did you think I meant?" You ask.

Present Day

*Soldier Boy POV*

The longer Ben sat in the motel room the more he thought of you. It wasn’t unusual. Ben was always thinking of you, even before he fucked everything up and before you two became supes, Ben rarely thought about anyone else. He hated that he did that, hated that you were always on his mind because he believed that he shouldn’t care about you as much as he did. Because why would you want someone like him? He was a fuck up before and after the serum and you deserved better. You always had deserved better.

When his cage had finally opened your name had been on his lips. He was ready to see you again, tell you how sorry he was, and how much he loved you. He hoped that it was you finally coming to take him away, but it wasn’t.

Y/n said she never wanted to see you again. Of course it wasn’t her.

He sighs and takes a bite of cheeseburger. His first one in 40 years, that the British fuck had gotten him, but it tastes like sandpaper, because he can't focus on anything but you.

"Well we know a few of your old team members are already dead." Butcher breezes pacing in the dingy motel room. "Countess, Gunpowder, Indigo-"

Ben reaches for his knife to grind up the oxy on the table in front of him, hoping that the pills will bring more relief than the whiskey.

It had been three days since he got out of Russia. Two since he visited Legend, when Legend told him that you were dead and Ben threw Legend's red armchair through the window of his apartment.

When Legend said it, Ben couldn't breathe, couldn't grasp that you were really gone. He didn't want to believe it.

You were all he thought the past 40 years, you were the only reason why he wanted to get the fuck out of Russia. He hated himself for what he had done, felt that he deserved the torture, but it was nothing compared to how he had tortured himself over the years.

The last thing he said to you often replayed in his mind and the way you looked when he said it burned against his eyes at night. He hadn't meant to hurt you, he didn't want to hurt you, never did. You were his oldest friend, the only person he knew that could be honest with him, call him out on all his shit, the only person who knew the real him, and the only person he could trust to be the voice of reason when he lost his temper.

And he threw you away like you meant nothing to him, when you were the only person who meant everything, the one person that he actually gave a fuck about.

Ben thought about your last night together often, remembered the dinner in the little restaurant when you wore a dress the color of his suit and looked more beautiful than he'd ever seen you as you danced to the song that always made him think of you. Remembered how he felt when he finally took you to bed, how each time you cried out his name it made him feel proud that it was him making you feel that way, that you wanted him as much as he had wanted you for so long.

Of course, then the memory of the next morning broke in his mind. When he woke up before you and held you closer than he'd held anyone else, slowly stroking your back and watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you slept and allowing himself to feel at peace. He couldn’t stop smiling in that moment because you genuinely wanted him to hold you close to him. When he woke up with you in his arms when you were children he feared that you wouldn’t want him to hold you, so he always pulled away, afraid of the rejection. He felt rejection from his father, but Ben knew that if you ever rejected him he wouldn't recover.

And then I rejected her, like a dumb fuck.

Ben was not a cuddler, he didn't think it was manly, but being there with you the morning after was different, and he believed he could have laid there for eternity listening to the soft beat of your heart where you rested against his chest and watch the gentle rise and fall of your body as you breathed. He had trailed his fingers along your spine as you laid on his chest, happy for the first time in his life.

When you told him that you loved him, he had been stunned. He remembered the soft blush of your cheeks and wide smile as you said it. He had wanted to say it back, to hear you say it once more, and to make love to you again while he said it- because he knew that’s what you had done together. He had fucked a lot of women, but that night with you was different, he cared how you felt, wanted it to be good for you, wanted to be everything you needed.

But the thought of you loving him scared him.

As much as it made him a pussy, Ben understood that it scared him.

You shouldn't love him because he didn't think that he could be what you wanted, that after all these years he couldn't be enough for you, and he believed that he shouldn't care for anyone as much as he did for you, because that meant weakness. That meant that every time you were on a mission together he would have to worry about you more than anything else. And Soldier Boy couldn't be weak.

So he pushed you away and ran to Countess. Ben's jaw tightens.

The psychotic bitch that sold me out. 

It had surprised him, how recently she had died. Butcher hadn't taken responsibility for it as he had for Gunpowder, which made Ben curious as to who had done it.

"Are you sure that Indigo is dead?" Ben asks taking another bite of the hamburger, but it still tastes like nothing.

He wondered if that was because you were gone and then wondered if he'd ever be able to taste anything ever again.

"What?" Hughie looks up from his bag of food. "Why would you think that?"

"Countess. Y/n hated her." Ben takes a swig from the bottle of whiskey on the table to try and dissipate some of the sadness he felt when he thought of you being gone. "Who told you that y/n was dead?"

"Her daughter." Hughie answers.

Ben freezes, his muscles tightening as a sickening feeling rises in the pit of his stomach. "She-she had a kid?" The thought made jealousy burn in his chest. Someone else had loved you, someone else had been man enough to say the thing that kept him up at night.

Of course she had a kid. She said she wanted a family. I was just too fucking stupid and couldn't admit that I wanted to give her that, to give her anything she wanted because I fucking love her. Did I really think she was going to wait for me? After everything I did to her? After everything I said? 

"Yeah-" Butcher shrugs. "Spitting image of her."

"She looks like her?" The thought of seeing you smile again makes something stir in his chest.

But it wouldn't be y/n. Ben reasons to himself. Because she’s gone.

His hand tightens on the bottle of whiskey and he’s surprised it doesn’t shatter in his hand as a wave of sadness comes over him. The memory of you and him at Fairmount Park, when you painted him briefly flashes across his mind and he allows himself to bask in your smile for a few fleeting moments before it’s gone. It makes him feel like he’d taken a knife to the chest at the thought that he’d never see it again and never hear you laugh.

"Yeah. Calls herself the same thing." Butcher continues.

"I want to meet her." Ben states taking one last drag of whiskey from the bottle.

"What?" Hughie chokes on his food.

Ben stands up. "I want to meet her. Where is she?"

"Oi, I don't think that's a good idea. She didn't really seem too keen on seeing you-"

"What do you mean?" Ben spits back, eyes narrowing.

Hughie shifts in his seat uncomfortably and Ben can hear Hughie's heartbeat quicken in fear.

"Don't be a pussy and just tell me." Ben snaps, becoming angry.

"She didn't want to talk too much about her mom. But she did mention how upset her mom was with you." Hughie states.

Ben felt the memories of the past creep up on him again.

Of course she was upset.

He remembered how broken you had looked the night you caught him and Countess. The look on your face forever sealed in his memory. He’d never seen you look so small. Honestly he was surprised that you hadn’t killed Countess that night. If he had walked in on anybody fucking you after the night you shared together, he knew that he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from killing them.

Because you were his.

He thinks about Howard briefly. Ben had almost killed him before you were supes when he called you his at the dance. It was also difficult to walk away when Howard hurt you.

Ben’s thoughts drift back to Countess. Her body had been burned beyond recognition, but her head was no longer attached. It would have taken an extreme amount of force for someone to do that.

Could she still be alive?

Ben thought about your ability. He was the only one who knew what it really was, that you didn't just come back from the dead, that your body was able to take the power of any supe that killed you. It made you incredibly indestructible, more invulnerable than him, even though he didn't want to admit that. He liked the thought that he was stronger than you because it meant that you needed him to protect you. He liked the thought that you needed him.

The day you both figured it out momentarily dances across his mind, making him tighten his jaw.

He remembered the sound of the gun and how you immediately pushed him out of the way to take the bullet for him, because you didn't know he was bulletproof and your gut reaction was to protect him.

Ben remembered how he held you when you took your last breath, watched the fear and pain in your eyes, mirrored in his own body at the thought of losing you, of trying to exist in a world where you weren't there. It was how he felt now.

Purposeless.

He remembered the broken feeling that rose in his chest when he heard your heart beat for the last time and how he begged internally for you to come back to him, because he didn't want to live if it meant losing you. He remembered gently brushing your hair back from your face as relief swelled in his chest when you came back and he clung to you like you had been gone a millennia. Of course after he had yelled at you for being so stupid, for putting yourself in that situation, tried to act like he didn't care as much as he did, but you'd only yelled back and refused to listen to him.

She was just so damn stubborn all the time.

"I don't care. I want to talk to her." Ben grabs the black leather coat that Butcher brought him and changes into a dark t-shirt and a pair of jeans. "Take me to her."

Butcher rolls his eyes. "Well, she did call the other day and say that she had some information for me." Butcher shrugs. "Let's go."

"But-" Hughie interjects.

"Oi Hughie. Calm down."

"She lost her mother. I don't think she wants any reminders of that."

"I promise I'll be gentle, cupcake." Ben rolls his eyes and pushes past Hughie to the door, the thought of seeing you again or just someone who shared your face enough to make him feel something for the first time in forty years.

"Oi, Y/n you in there." Butcher presses the call button on the outside wall of the brick apartment building.

Ben looks up and down the street, noting the people who are walking down the cracked sidewalks. It was weird to be back in New York, to be in a city that he lived in for so long and feel out of place. Hughie had tried to explain some things to him about the new century, but Ben was still confused, and honestly he didn’t care. The only thing he could focus on was you and the possibility of you living here.

Not you. He corrected. But maybe. He still didn't quite believe that you were dead, that you could die.

A minute passes and Ben is tired of waiting. He confidently walks up to the glass front door, and pulls with  enough of his superstrength to break the lock and open it.

"What are you doing?" Hughie whispers following behind him, but Ben ignores the question strutting straight to the stairwell.

"What floor?"

"8th." Butcher says.

When they finally reach your door Ben pauses. He's not sure if he can look you in the eye, not after all of these years, if it really is you. And if it wasn't then what? What would I say to her daughter?

The thought makes the fear that he refuses to acknowledge grip his chest, the fear that you were dead followed by the feeling of purposelessness that seemed to follow him since he heard the news.

If it is her daughter, maybe she’ll tell me if y/n suffered, if she died thinking that I hated her.

The memory of the fight stirs in his chest as Butcher knocks on the door and waits. But nobody answers.

"Must not be home." Hughie shrugs. "We could call her-" He begins to say, but Butcher deftly picks the lock and the door swings open into the darkness.

As soon as Butcher opens the front door of the apartment and Ben steps through, all he smells is you. It's enough to confirm in his heart that it is you and not your daughter. He felt something in his chest stutter to a halt as he inhales the familiar scent of lavender and lemons. It was everywhere, all around him, flooding his senses. 

And for the first time in forty years he felt comfort, at peace. For a moment all thoughts of revenge, rage, and justice fades from his mind and he is left with the memory of you.

Ben immediately is transported back to those quiet moments when he settled into bed next to you after climbing through your window. When you would fall asleep before him and curl against him subconsciously, your hair tickling his cheeks and sending the soft smell over him. The nights when he’d wrap his arm around you as soon as you fell asleep because he was afraid to do it when you were awake, afraid that you would reject him like so many others did. Those nights with you outweighed any other time in his life. He remembered that each time he crawled through your window you smiled up at him, were happy to see him, so different than the home he left behind, where his father wouldn't look at him.

He remembered the nights after you took Compound V, when even after a hard day when he was a dick, you still allowed him into your bed, allowed him to sleep next to you. Those quiet moments in the late hours of the morning when you cuddled into his side and muttered words in your sleep that he couldn’t understand all the while he brushed your hair back from your face stayed with him. As much as he refused to admit to anyone, refused to show any emotion, being there with you, felt more like home than anywhere else.

That's why he asked you to come with him in the first place. He couldn't leave you behind. Maybe that was selfish of him, but he would not pretend to be unselfish, not when it came to you.

He thinks about all the suitors that he scared away before him and you left Philadelphia, all his friends who expressed interest in you only to have him drive them away, and of course the one that wouldn't leave. The one that bought you jewelry and finally asked you to marry him, another reason why Ben convinced you to come with him.

The jealousy was familiar. Ben didn't want to leave you behind, the thought that some other man would possess you or love you made his chest hurt. You were his. No one felt the way about you that he did, never would. No one would know you, care about you or understand you like he did, and no one knew you as long as he did. And although Ben had trouble expressing it, he knew that he loved you, he hated himself for being unable to say it. He couldn’t decide if admitting that he loved you made him a pussy or it was his fear of telling you that made him one.

Ben looks around the apartment, noticing the artwork on the walls, the messy studio table, and smiles. He remembered the way you always had a sketchbook with you, he used to tease you about it,  but you would only roll your eyes at him and continue to draw. He loved watching you sketch, watching how focused you were as you created something so effortlessly. He remembered watching you paint with the watercolors he got you, feeling a swell of pride that he was the one who started that love. Ben had been afraid to give them to you, afraid that it was too thoughtful, but then he remembered how widely you smiled, how happy you had been.

The apartment felt like you.

And by now again he knows that it is you and perhaps that's worse, because now he has to face you and he doesn't know how to fix this, any of it.

You weren’t like him or anyone else. You didn’t bend under easy promises and gifts like the other women he had been with over the years. Your ability to read him and understand him meant that you were special. And you were. You were special to him.

He moves forward towards the darkened hallway.

"Hey wait-" He hears Hughie say behind him, but Ben ignores him.

Ben finds your bedroom easily and the smell grows when he opens the door. He takes in the controlled chaos of the room before his eyes fall on the suitcase on the large bed.

Where was she going?

Ben pulls your supe suit out of the bag and smiles at the memory of the day you first tried it on. You never wore anything form fitting, hid your shape under shirts and pants, but the day he saw you in this for the first time made his breath catch in his chest. He knew that you thought you were fat, but Ben never believed that. He loved every curve of your body, loved to trace them with his eyes when you weren’t looking  and when you finally let him take you to bed, his hands. Seeing you in the suit for the first time was almost enough to push him over the edge, but he kept it together.

He notices the plane ticket on the edge of the bed, beneath the bag, and he pulls out the printed piece of paper, reading the fine print.

She was going to Russia. She was going to come get me even after I-

The emotion that rises in Ben's chest is unfamiliar. He did not like giving in to emotions the same way others did because he believed that made him weak, a lesson his father had ingrained into his mind. But this time he doesn't attempt to push it down. The plane ticket crumples in his hand as his jaw clenches tight. A part of him was relieved, relieved to know that somewhere deep down you still cared about him, maybe that meant that you would be willing to see him.

But he still didn’t know how to fix this. He'd never been good with words or apologizing or, well, love in general. He’d never loved anyone before you. He frowns at the thought of all the meaningless flings he'd had in the past. There was only one relationship with a woman he'd ever been in, with you, and he'd fucked it all up.

He kneels and reaches under your bed, looking for the box he knows will be there. It's a dark rosewood, one from your bedroom when you were a kid, but now it holds a different value. Ben sits on the end of your bed and opens it.

He had caught you with it a few times, usually when you started drinking or on your birthday, always on your birthday. It's why he never let you stay at home, he made sure you came out with him, because your mind would drift when you were alone and Ben didn't like the dark places it took you.

Ben rarely liked leaving you alone. Whenever he was on movie shoots in another country he would call you just to hear your voice, and even when he went to bed with someone else and they fell asleep he would stay up thinking of you, wondering if you missed him as much as he missed you, and wondering if you could sleep without him because he couldn’t sleep without you. Another reason why he pushed you away, believing that it made him weak.

The photo on top is unfamiliar to him, it's newer, and shows you standing with a young brunette woman outside of a college dorm. He traces the lines of your face with his thumb. He hadn't seen a picture of you in forty years, but you were just as beautiful as he remembered. The one that follows is also unfamiliar, you holding a baby wrapped in a pink blanket, the baby’s hand wrapped around your index finger, and you looking down at it like it's your whole world.

The look in your eyes does something to him. He remembered when you looked at him like that, the morning when you woke up next to him and whispered those four little words to him that he always wanted to hear while holding his face tenderly between your palms, "I love you Ben."

When things got bad in Russia he would strain to remember the memory, remember the way you looked at him, the way the words sounded falling from your lips. The words that he always wanted to hear you say. The morning that he wished he could change and the disastrous night he wished never happened.

"We shouldn't be here." Hughie says to Butcher in the living room.

"She ain't home. We'll go when he wants to leave." Ben hears Butcher respond.

But Ben knew that he didn't want to leave, wouldn't want to leave. He had spent the past forty years away from you and he didn't want to spend anymore time apart from you, even if that made him a pussy, he didn't care.

"This isn't a good idea. Y/n didn't want him here-" Hughie tries again

"Oi, look at this. She's looking at flights." Butcher states, when he notices the laptop on the counter.

"What?" Hughie asks.

"If it ain't her, how would she know about Russia?" Butcher says back. Ben hears a rustling like Butcher is going through the trashcan “And take a look at this-“

Ben shuts out their conversation and pulls other photos out, finally pulling out strip of paper from a Photo Booth. It was the day he took you to a baseball game,  before you were supes. You’d never been to one before and Ben had only been to the one his father took him to, when his dad got drunk and forgot Ben was with him. Ben frowns for a second but then looks back at the collection of photos on the strip. It was a good day. He had bought you a ridiculous hat, and you'd sat next to him looking radiant in the sunlight like you always did sketching him. Ben loved it when you drew him, it made him happy to know that when you looked through the pages of your sketchbook later that you were thinking of him. He often wondered if you thought of him as much as he thought of you. You'd both gotten drunk on cheap beer and when a woman yelled at you for being unladylike you flipped her the bird and said some choice words that made the tips of the woman’s ears turn pink.

Ben loved that about you, that you never seemed to care what others thought of you, especially your friendship with him. Everyone you knew had told you to keep a wide berth from him, but you didn’t listen.

Ben traces your young face in the photo with his fingertip.

Maybe she should have.

He turns back and pulls out a yellowed photo of you and your mother. Ben frowns at the expression on your face. You were never happy when she was around. He hated your mother, not just because she hated him, but he hated what she did to you. He hated that she made you feel ugly, when you were the most beautiful woman that he'd ever seen. Even as teenagers, Ben couldn’t help but notice how pretty your figure was and how you filled out the soft dresses you wore when you went with him on adventures through the city. He never thought you were too fat, if anything he liked your curves. The night you were finally together he worshipped them, wanted you to know that you were beautiful, to understand that he saw your beauty, because he knew that you still thought about what your mother said to you. He hated that she had such a hold on your life even though she had been dead for so long.

He hears a rattle along the bottom of the box and when he picks up the source of the noise he immediately wishes he hadn't.  It's a single pearl, and Ben understands what it's from. It's from the necklace he bought you for your birthday, the one that you ripped off your neck when you found him with Countess. He had agonized over whether or not to get it for you, thought that maybe it was too thoughtful or rather was too romantic. But the look on your face when you opened the box made him feel like he’d swallowed the sun.

Ben's teeth clench together as a wave of guilt crashes over him remembering what he yelled at you, remembering what he did to you. He thought that it had been what he needed to do, that he needed to push you away because he didn't want to care about anyone else, at least not the way he cared about you.

He hadn’t thought it would hurt as much to say those things to you, but it had all but ripped his own heart out.

But even before you found them together all Ben felt was guilt. He wasn’t enjoying anything he was doing to Countess, all he wanted was to do those things with you. He thought it was necessary, that by doing those things with her he could somehow clear his head of you, but all it did was make him feel guilty and want you more.

He thinks about the days that followed before his mission in Nicaragua, when he agonized over calling you, over showing up to your apartment, but he couldn't. He couldn't face you.  He hadn't been able to sleep those nights before the mission and wanted desperately for you to be there with him.  Ben couldn't sleep when you weren’t with him. He hated that he'd finally gotten you and then lost you so quickly.

Ben notices a velvet box, and he sighs when he opens it. It's an engagement ring, the engagement ring that you showed him the night he asked you to come with him.

He briefly wonders if you thought that was his version of a proposal. That you believed, turning your back on your family and coming with him meant more.

I’m such a fucking idiot. I should’ve-

“It really is a shitty ring.” He mutters. And it was, it was all wrong for you. Ben knew what you liked and he couldn’t believe that this was what that asshole got you.

Why did she keep it? Because she wanted to remember what her life could have been like if I didn’t ask her to come?

Ben remembers when he asked you if he ruined your life, before everything exploded. He imagined that after that night you changed your answer, because how could you look at him, let alone want to be around him after what he did to you?

Ben examines the ring again allowing the memory of the night you showed it to him push its way into his mind. He remembered being scared, of course he’d never admit that, he wasn’t a pussy, but he acutely remembered the moment you showed it to him. The fear of losing you that struck him when he noticed it on your finger, as the weight of what it represented settled on his shoulders. He knew that the asshole who proposed would quickly turn you against him, and this time you’d believe it because you loved that dick or-

Ben reconsidered. She didn’t love him because she came with you. She loved you.

He remembers again what it was like to be with you in  bed, when you whispered those words so tenderly to him and is struck with guilt all over again.

You had looked almost sheepish when you showed me the ring, like you were afraid to tell me-

Of course she was afraid to tell you. She wanted you to propose but you didn’t instead you fucking ruined her life and strung her along for 40 fucking years-

He never understood how you did that. Survived all those years with him while he fucked his way through everything that crossed his path. How you continued to stand by him when he was a dick to you and so many others. And yet you never let any other man into your life.

He remembers the night after you got between him and Noir, remembers asking you if you wanted to marry Howard, but you said no. The other things you said struck something within him. When you said you wanted someone to come home to, someone who would love you, a family. He remembers how you looked the night of your birthday in the restaurant, how you watched the couples around your table and smiled. He knew what you were thinking, and he had tried to show you that he could be that for you by taking your hand where it rested on the table even though it went against every instinct he had. He wanted so badly to give you those things, to make you happy. Ben didn’t want you to find that with anyone else. He would have loved to have a family with you, to be with you always the way you were always there for him, or were until he fucked it all up. He remembers asking you to marry him, apart of it had been a joke, just to gauge your reaction, but deep down he was curious. He hadn't expected it to hurt so much when you laughed him off.

Ben sighs. When you spoke about leaving Payback he was worried, worried that it meant you would leave him too and then who would he have? No one. It’s why he spent so many nights in your bed, with you curled up beside him. He didn’t want to be anywhere else.

He shuts the ring box with a snap and throws it back inside. The memory of the night you spent together is just on the edge begging to be let in. Ben indulged in that memory many times over the years, letting it strengthen him. Remembered every detail. It was the first time that he actually cared what someone else wanted in bed. He remembered how your cheeks blushed when you told him that you’d never had sex before and how you said that you wanted it to be him. He never imagined that you would want him the same way that he’d wanted you all those years.The exact reason why he drowned himself in so many other women, because he thought that’s what he needed to do. Because you deserved someone better than him, you always had.

The thought is immediately followed by what he yelled at you in the bathroom at the premiere, when he turned something that you believed to be special, one of the happiest nights of his life, into a cheap fuck.

He remembered the broken expression on your face. He'd never seen you look so small. Ben always admired how strong you were, but as soon as he said those things to you, he watched you crumble when he broke your heart.

Worse still was when he grabbed you. He fights the shudder, remembering how he grabbed onto your arms. As many times as you’d stood between him and the source of his anger, he’d never laid a hand on you but that night, he was just so damn frustrated. You were looking at him with those big eyes of yours that always saw through him, understood him, and he was frustrated because he wanted to tell you that he loved you that he always had loved you but he couldn’t. He couldn’t admit it because he was a man and damn it a man didn’t show emotions and he was Soldier Boy he didn’t need anyone-

His jaw clenches together so tight that he hears the click of his teeth.

But he did. He knew that all he needed was you.

I’m such a fucking asshole. Y/n doesn’t need me and I don’t deserve her-

Ben raises his head to look at your bedroom door as he hears the front door of your apartment swing open. And he freezes.

Because why would you want to see him? He had ruined your life.

A/N: Alright everybody we made it to the chapter right before the reunion!!! What will happen? Will she forgive him? Who knows?! Even me, honestly. 😂

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know. :)

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[soldiersslut]

GHOST OF YOU — SOLDIER BOY "CHAPTER ONE"

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2,638

Author's Note: I am super duper excited for this! I am happy to see others are as well. Thank you so much again!

IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED PLEASE LET ME KNOW. DON'T FORGET TO FOLLOW, HEART, AND REPOST. THANK YOU AGAIN!

“I am gone for one day, and this is what happens. Was putting MM to sleep really necessary?” You asked, watching what unfolded from afar. MM told Annie ahead of time what the plan was, and Annie told you.

It was no surprise that neither Butcher or Hughie had told anyone else about the plan. Little by little their recklessness was clouding their judgment. Going as far as to putting MM to sleep. Butcher scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“He is just taking a little nap. I cannot have him getting in the way and as much as you might not want to agree, you do. Soldier Boy is our weapon, and we need to make sure he is satisfied with our gift waiting inside.”

You stayed silent. There was no point in arguing with him.

“Don’t you think someone should stay inside with her? Just have eyes on her in case she tries anything?” you suggested.

Butcher nodded and tilted his head towards the direction of the door. “Since you offered to babysit, have fun. I will be waiting for him out here.”

You did not move until Butcher did. He stayed facing the trees. Your friendship with Butcher is interesting, to say the least. While you did not agree with most of Butcher’s plans the end goal was all the same. He had been the one to recruit you after MM vouched for you. Before joining the Boys you were a combat medic specialist for the Army. Most of your work consisted in base to assist soldiers as well as help in humanitarian situations. Somewhere along the way you met MM, and you made a big enough impact he remembered you.

Here you are now serving as medic most of the times, but when things get bad you are ready to fight and defend yourself.

“Who’s there?” spoke up Countess, panic heard in her tone. All you had done was enter her trailer and stay by the door for a moment.

You looked to your right to see Countess’ hands had been taped and chained down. You stepped out of the shadow so she could have a closer look at you. Though you made sure to keep your distance.

“That’s impossible,” she whispered.

You were unable to hide your confusion. Both of your eyebrows furrowed closer together and you tilted your head slightly.

“I’m sorry?” you questioned, hoping she was going to elaborate what she means by it.

She began to shake her head and a snarl formed on her lips.

“Don’t play stupid with me, bitch. You’ve been alive this entire fucking time!” Countess snapped and attempted to harshly pull on the chains to let herself loose.

You blinked twice at the audacity of her attitude. This is the first time you are meeting her and somehow you are supposed to know her. There is one thing you’ve noticed about Countess though. Behind her anger, there was fear.

“I am not playing stupid! What the hell are you talking about?” you snapped back.

“Come on, Mimi, you’re really wanting to play stupid? Isn’t it just a tiny bit coincidence that Soldier Boy is out of Russia and you are here. You’re not supposed to be here. I was told you stayed in Russia.”

You still could not hide your confusion. You were so taken back you blinked multiple times and shook your head.

“Well, obviously, I am not in Russia. This was the one and only time I went. Care to explain what the hell is going on through that chimp brain of yours?!” you demanded to know.

Before Countess could say anything the door to the outside opened. Your eyes remained on her while she looked behind you to see who showed up.

“Ben? Is that really you?” she asked.

Slow, but heavy footsteps can be heard. Slowly you turned around and came face to face with Soldier Boy.

And there it is again.

The same look Countess had when she saw you was the same look Soldier Boy had. Soldier Boy completely ignored Countess at the moment. He was just staring at you, and you stared back waiting for him to say something. Nothing was said, but there was a trance between you both. You nor him could look away from one another. Countess decided to break it.

“You look so young,” she complimented. Soldier Boy had been quick to answer, “you don’t.” And yet he had not even looked at her for him to say such a thing. This was not your place to be at.

“I’m leaving,” you announced. The trailer was small and the amount of things Countess had made it even smaller. With three steps you would be out of the door, but as you took two steps forward Soldier Boy moved to the side to block you.

“No, you’re staying” he ordered.

You were stunned by his demand and was unable to protest. It was not going to get you anywhere and you did not want to make him angry either. The man was on a vengeance, and you had no power to fight against someone like him. He moved past you and stood in front of Countess now. She let out a laugh.

It was obvious you did not wish to be there. This was something personal, and almost intimate. You tried blocking out their conversation but it was impossible. Nothing in the room was interesting enough to stare at and zone out.

“I loved you.”

That’s when things got interesting. You did not even have to look at Soldier Boy to hear the sadness in his voice. The way he was describing his pain, torture, and yet still held onto the hope. It explains why he felt so betrayed. This time you turned to look at Soldier Boy and Countess. His back was towards you, but Countess could still see you. Her eyes moved to you and she shook her head in disbelief. She let out a scoff and spoke.

“You did not love me, you loved her. Deny it all you want, but it has always been about her. You never looked at me the way you looked at her. Hell, you fucking treated her better than you’ve ever treated anyone else. It was about damn time she got smart enough and left you. She knew her worth. When she left I was furious because I had the hope that with her being out of the picture you would have changed for the better, but you only got worse with time. I would have done the same thing and left you, but I made a vow to make you pay for everything. For every tear, pleads, and humiliation I had to endure because of you. I hated you.”

There was silence afterwards. You were not sure what to think of Countess’ speech. She keeps bringing you up, and yet it makes no sense. You have never met Countess before. Much less Soldier Boy. The last time they were together it was during the 1980s. You weren’t even a thought.

“As for you, why did you go back for him? You had a life all sorted out for you. His words might sound sweet, but you know better than I that the only person he will only look out for is himself.”

This was your opportunity to say something. You wanted to ask her for clarification. She held something against you, and you cannot even wrap your mind around what it is. Though it was too late.

“Leave.”

You looked at Soldier Boy who continues to have his back towards you.

“Wait a minute—” you began to protest but was rudely interrupted.

“Are you stupid and deaf now? Go!” he snapped.

You then realized why he demanded you left. You can see the light forming in his chest and aimed toward Countess. Without a second thought you ran out and sprinted towards Butcher.

“The hell happened in there?” Butcher demanded to know.

“He’s about to explode! Grab MM!” you yelled, and right on cue a loud explosion occurred behind you.

There was so much force that wind picked up and forced you to fall on the ground. Butcher was quick to grab MM and be out of harm’s way. From the ground you turned around and used your elbows to sit up and look at the damage. The trailer was gone, but the debris was scattered everywhere. You stood up and rushed towards MM to make sure he was okay.

Annie called out to you, and Hughie followed behind her.

“MM is alright. Butcher was able to get him out of the way,” you explained and lightly slapped MM’s face multiple times hoping that would wake him up. Once again you heard the heavy footsteps and all attention was shifted to Soldier Boy who appeared from the fog of what used to be Countess’ trailer. You got up from the floor and just watched. Annie had gotten defensive and Soldier Boy noticed. He watched Annie, but then looked at you. He stopped moving and just stared like he has done before.

Once again the both of you were in a trance. The trance got disrupted by Hughie’s voice as he tried to reason with Annie. He and Butcher began to follow behind Soldier Boy. You stayed in place with Annie and MM who was starting to wake up.

“I’m alright,” MM assured. You and Annie helped him off of the ground and watched the other trio walking away. Though Soldier Boy came to a stop and turned around to see who was following.

“What the hell is happening now?” MM asked. Soldier Boy, Butcher, and Hughie were talking and it almost looked like an argument. They began to walk back towards the other trio.

“You are coming with us,” Butcher ordered, pointing at you. Annie and MM quickly got defensive.

“It is the only way Soldier Boy is going to cooperate with us. Either she comes or he goes into destructive mode. I don’t know what the hell you told him in there, but he is demanding you” Butcher explained. Butcher was getting desperate and if he has to knock you out, carry you, or threaten you he’ll do it.

Annie and MM were not convinced, but you were. If someone has all the answers to your questions it must be him.

“Soldier Boy can suck my dick too and I still would not accept her leaving. Go fuck yourself, Butcher. He is your problem!” MM argued.

Soldier Boy now stepped forward, “we can do this the easy way where no one gets harmed, or I can do this my way where I can just kill you both” he suggested. It only made things worse as Annie’s eyes lit up. MM walked towards Soldier Boy to get in his face. You moved quickly to get in between both.

“No! One death is already enough for tonight. I will go with you under one condition and that is for you not to harm my friends. It isn’t because I am scared of you.”

You stood your ground against Soldier Boy. If it were anyone else to have spoken to him the way you did right now he would have put them six feet underground by now. Though this is you, he remained quiet but his hands turned into fist and by how tight he formed them a small squeak was let out from the leather gloves he is wearing.

You heard the squeak and knew he was holding it in together. “Shall we, then?” you asked and motioned the direction they were heading towards to. You looked up at Soldier Boy who continued to stare. At this point it was getting annoying. You said nothing to him and walked away. Before the distance got greater you looked at MM and Annie.

“I will be okay, I promise.”

That was going to be the last time you will see them both until who knows when. You said nothing else, even when you all got to the car. Butcher drove and Hughie got the passenger side. You sighed and got in the back with Soldier Boy. It was a small space and with someone large such as Soldier Boy is sitting next to you the space is limited. Your knee was forced to touch his own. You ignored the way he kept moving his knee slowly as if he was trying to feel you. Butcher was explaining their next destination but they needed to find lounging for tonight. After some time in the road they found a motel in the middle of nowhere. Butcher checked them in.

“You are staying with me Soldier Boy, while Hughie stays with you” said Butcher to you. Hughie was okay with that and offered to sleep on the couch. Soldier Boy hated the idea.

“Fuck you, I am staying with her. I’m not about to share a bed with another set of balls and a dick.”

You rolled your eyes, “and what makes you think I want to?”

“Oh, please sweetheart. Playing hard to get doesn’t get you anywhere. Drop the attitude.”

“Make me.”

Butcher intervened, “alright, alright! All of us are staying in a room together. I will sleep on the floor, Hughie gets the couch, and both of you figure it out in the room. I am going to ask for a refund on one of the rooms.”

Butcher left to the main office while the rest walked towards the room. You entered and took a look around. It was clean, a little spacious, and there was only one bed. The argument began again.

“You are indestructible, a soldier, and have been sleeping for a long time already. You do not need the bed! You can sleep anywhere else!” you snapped.

At this point Hughie had given up in playing mediator.

“The bed is large enough for the both of us. Quit your whining!” Soldier Boy reasoned.

The argument continued until Butcher showed up and put an end to it. In the end you were going to share a bed with him. You sat down on your side and just watched the rest get comfortable. Butcher had clothes for Soldier Boy to change into.

“We have a long day tomorrow. Get some sleep” Butcher ordered. He turned off the lights. Hughie said goodnight to you and you said it back. You laid on the bed and felt it sink next to you. You turned and saw Soldier Boy smirk. You were ready to wipe the smirk off of his face.

“You know you can scoot in closer if it gets too cold. I don’t bite” he whispered the last part to you. You scoffed and turned to your side. There was not enough pillow to form some wall between you both. Eventually sleepiness took over the nerves, and you had fallen asleep.

Soldier Boy had yet to fall asleep. He was the last one awake. Everything that has happened in the past two days has been replaying over in his mind. He looked down at you sleeping so peacefully. Why were you acting like this? Why was he a stranger in your eyes? It has been a conflicting thought since the moment he laid eyes on you. Even now he wonders if this was a test and he was actually at the lab still. He was hoping it wasn’t.

You moved in your sleep and was facing him now. Hair had fallen onto your face. Slowly and lightly he moved it out of the way of your face. His finger stayed on your cheek; feeling your soft skin.

Whether this was a test or a dream, he knows he never wants to wake up for he has found you once again.

Next Chapter: Chapter Two

Author’s Note: Hello again! I hope everyone is enjoying this as much as I am. As you can tell we are following season three but there will be changes along the way. I chose to start on season three so we can see how it begins to unfold for Soldier Boy and reader. There will be lots of angst and drama soon. Just please be patient and thank you so much again for reading!

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

The continuation for that Alcina fic was fucking deliciousssssss skdjfskldfj

It got me thinking, I'm not sure if you've written a fic like this before or if you would even write one like this, but I was wondering what that situation (or one similar to it) would look like from Alcina's POV?

Hello, dears ♥️ In preparation for reaching ✨1,750 followers✨, I've been working on a little fic that was inspired by both this ask 🔺🔺🔺 (thank you 👀 I'm so glad you liked it jdhddjkd) , as well as this incredible piece of fanart!

But first and foremost:

Thank you all for following! 💋

And as for the request, here you go! Written from Alcina's POV and just under 3k words 👀 I hope some of you will enjoy it! 😁♥️

The Lady found herself in a foul mood as she made her way back into the castle. Met with nothing but absolute silence as she opened the large doors and walked into the even larger foyer. Of course, she expected no one else to be awake at this hour, save for her daughters who were still out on the hunt. Though, as she made her way slowly up the staircase, a faint sound could be heard traveling its way softly through the corridors. A quiet, subtle melody hummed just barely loud enough to be heard. But, of course, she heard it. She heard everything that happened within those castle walls - even when she cared not to.

“The audacity.. sneaking out at this hour.” She grumbled to herself, following the haunting sound. Her foul mood turning even more sour when she realized that her hopes of getting directly into a hot, soothing bath had been swiftly thwarted. Instead making it so she'd likely have to discipline someone instead. She sighed as the voice grew louder, leading her directly into the library.

A Countess' work is never done, Alcina, she thought to herself tiredly. Of course it wasn't. Why should she be able to enjoy the solitude of a hot bath and a glass of her favorite wine after running through the woods chasing after man-things all night? She huffed at the air, frustrated - irritation riddling her weary bones as she opened the doors to the large room - the soft humming immediately halting as she did.

“There's no use in hiding, dear. I may be tired, but I can still smell you from here.”

A murmured curse in response from a voice she knew all too well. She sighed again.

“Draga.. of all the nights to be breaking curfew..”

The Countess was in no mood and she could feel her patience wearing thinner by the minute. Of all people.

“Come out, pet, now.” She ordered through gritted teeth.

Slowly, the figure of her current paramour came hesitantly out from behind the bookstacks and into view. Skin pale and a look of sheer panic on their face.

“Alcina-”

“I don't believe now is the time for such informalities.” She responded sternly, cutting them short.

They swallowed nervously. “Right, of course. S-sorry, my lady. I.. I thought you were out for the night?”

Alcina scoffed. “As if that gives you the right to be disobeying my direct orders? Hm? Traipsing around the castle at all hours of the night.”

“N-no… it's just.. I-”

“Save it, pet. I am in no mood for excuses and you're the last person I wanted to have to discipline tonight.”

She rubbed the bridge of her nose and moved further into the room. A profound wave of exhaustion washing over her that forced a slight stumble to her stride.

When was the last time she had even fed? She wondered.

“My lady? Are.. are you alright?”

“It's nothing.” She snarled.

“Countess.. I am.. very sorry for disappointing you. And I know you're angry with me.” The human’s voice softened a little as they moved closer to her, fidgeting anxiously with their fingers. “But, if there is anything I can do? You know, to help.”

“There is.” She growled, “You can start by not being so incompetent!”

This time the words that came out were raw, primal - dipped in venom - the dragon within her inching closer and closer to the surface as her need to feed grew stronger. Albeit, the moment she saw her handservant flinch - coiling back at her words - she couldn't help but soften. Sighing, she turned to face them.

“I am sorry, draga. I seemed to have lost myself. While, yes, I am disappointed that you disobeyed the rules of this castle - you did not.. deserve that.” Alcina sat down in the chair closest to the fireplace and took a deep breath, her body overcome with exhaustion. “I fear it has been too long since I last fed. Which makes being around me at the moment rather.. dangerous. It would be for the best that you return to your quarters for now, pet. I'll deal with your punishment in the morning.”

“Oh. Of course, my lady.”

They bowed and then turned to leave before pausing.

“Uh.. Alcina?” They asked tentatively.

The Countess looked up, eyes heavy. “Hm?”

“Ah, if I may - you could.. use me.. if you wanted?”

Alcina raised an eyebrow. “Use you? How?”

“Ah.. heh.. that is, to feed? From me?”

The Countess stared blankly, shocked for a moment before shaking her head. “That's not necessary, draga. I have everything I need in my room.”

“I'm aware.. but.. you know. You're obviously quite exhausted and I'm.. well, I'm right here.”

They gave her a crooked little smile that she couldn't help but chuckle at.

“If you're trying to get out of your punishment, pet-”

“N-no! I'll fully accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate. I just.. want to help, is all.”

“Mmh..” The lady hummed in thought, mulling their very tempting offer. She was exhausted, this was true. And it'd been longer than she could recall since she’d had the taste of fresh blood in her mouth. Warm and pulsing and straight from the tap.

Still..

With the dragon in her so close to the surface, the worries of her losing control were imminent. And the thought of losing yet another partner - one as sweet and caring as they were, again - was almost too much of a thought to handle. Alcina physically shuddered at the thought, the warmth from the fire doing very little to calm her worries. Worries that her handservant must have quickly picked up on. Small fingers sliding into her own and a kind face looking up at her as they kneeled on the castle floor in front of her.

“Hey, I trust you.”

Alcina snorted. “Famous last words, pet.”

They chuckled softly. “How about this then.. is there maybe another part of my body that would be safer to drink from? Than say, my neck?”

The Lady smirked. “Mh, perhaps... your inner thigh would probably work.”

Alcina watched as a soft pink hue began to crawl across the human's cheeks. It was strikingly gorgeous basked in the firelight.

“O-oh.. well, ah.. that seems.. doable.”

A flash of crimson as her smirk widened. Her lover’s heartbeat quickening by the minute, thumping loudly over the soft crackle of the fire.

“Mhm.. are you certain? It may… hurt, quite a bit.”

Oh, how that blush grew even deeper at the Countess’ words. How exquisite it was. Alcina could feel the smugness seeping into the corners of her lips as she watched them fluster.

“I.. oh.. that's okay. I don't mind, my lady. R-really.” They replied, rubbing the back of their neck.

Not that they would've been the first of Alcina's suitors to be into pain. Far from it, in fact - it seemed to be a commonality in many of the lovers she had taken over the years. Whether it was just something that came with the territory - or more the fact that whenever they looked at her they found themselves thinking “big lady, break me” - either way, it was a noticeably recurring occurrence in the Countess’ love life.

“Very well.” Alcina replied, rising from the chair to her full height. “Pull up your skirt, pet, and take a seat.”

As dutiful as ever, her servant quickly obeyed and took their Lady's place on the large chair. A coy smile on their face as they pulled the simple fabric of their uniform past their upper thighs, exposing their supple flesh along with their dampened undergarments.

“Like this?” They asked with a smirk.

“Bold time for you to be acting bratty, pet. Don't you think?”

“Ah.. m-maybe?” They answered sheepishly.

“Mhm.”

And even though the Countess’ tone remained firm, she could only shake her head and chuckle as she lowered herself down to the fresh, warm meal that waited for her. A deep flush decorating the human’s cheeks as the Lady knelt in front of them, hands spreading their legs a little further apart for her.

“O-oh.. uh.”

The Countess looked at them curiously before leaning back. “If you're having second thoughts, pet-”

“N-no! I just.. ah.. this view is just.. really nice.”

An even smugger smirk grew across the Lady's lips. “Mhm.. is it now?”

“I mean.. yes?”

“Enjoy it while it lasts then, draga.. very rarely does one ever get me on my knees.”

The flushed servant almost choked in response as they quickly nodded, face as red as their employer’s lips.

“I.. mhm.. enjoying it. Yes.”

“Mh.. probably wet at just the sight, aren't you?” Alcina asked teasingly, forcing them to whine.

“A-alcinaa.. that's unfair.”

“And that's not an answer.”

The Countess' words grew a little darker, punctuating them with a firm scratch across the human's inner thigh, immediately pulling droplets of warm crimson to the surface.

They cursed. “Fine.. yes.. I am.”

“Mh.. good.”

A single sweep of her tongue over the fresh gash forced another whine from her lover, a fierce shiver rolling over their body. Alcina knew she was going to enjoy all of this maybe a little too much - but the needy sounds she could will from their lips was something she would never grow tired of. And as she leaned in a little further, with their metallic essence still warm in her mouth, she could smell just how aroused they already were.

Very good.

"Deep breaths now, pet. This is going to sting.”

They nodded softly in response, cheeks a brilliant hue and eyes widening the moment the Countess’ incisors began to lengthen, readying themselves to feed. Another swirl of her tongue over the spot she'd already marked. A rush of blood right below the surface, drawing the vampire directly to the proper vein. And as she gave her meal a final smirk, she took their thigh between two large hands and brought it to her mouth.

“Mmmph-!”

Whimpered breaths from her prey’s lips as sharp fangs seeped eagerly into their flesh.

“Mmmh.”

A subtle moan from within her own as she slowly drew their essence into her mouth, savoring the exquisite flavor of them. They tasted even better than she’d imagined - sweeter, more refined - with metallic undertones fueled by a life force that only made her all the more hungry.

“You taste divine, draga.” Alcina murmured, her words reverberating deep into their skin before her fangs were sunk back in again.

“Ah-!”

The subtle flinch to the muscle that laid just beneath her teeth, the soft moan that fell from their whispered lips - the Countess knew if she didn't keep her control that she could very easily become ravenous for their taste. The pulse of it flowing warmly over her tongue as she swallowed it down, indulging herself in the life that danced throughout it.

They would surely make an excellent wine.

And even though the thought was morbid to most - to Alcina, it was merely a compliment. One of the highest in fact. Though, she found all the best tasting humans tended to be the ones she had no desire of actually killing. Ones that inherently touched her heart and moved her soul. But hell if she didn't appreciate any chance she got at a taste.

Her lover's growing moans were the only thing to bring her back from her thoughts - from giving into the primal force that always sat just under the skin - ready to take over. But gods, could she smell how wet they were for her. How their body squirmed every time she drew a long pull of blood from them. Their flesh heated against her lips, their strong musk enveloping the tiny space between them. And out of the corner of her eye, Alcina could even see that the chair beneath the human was readily growing damper.

”Good”. She thought smugly, a smirk beneath her blood coated lips when she finally pulled away to look up at them.

"Am I to believe you're actually enjoying this, draga? Are you really so needy?”

They whined at her ridicule, squirming even more - her teasing tone and slightly taunting words having the exact effect on them that she wanted.

“You will answer me if you expect something done about it.” She demanded.

Another whine.

“F-fuck.. yes, okay? It's.. it feels good.”

“Mh. Better.”

The Lady placed a gentle kiss to their inner thigh and then brought two fingers to the hem of their underwear, swiftly ripping the fabric from their body. Her patented smirk growing even wider the moment the measure of their arousal was reflected in the firelight - they were absolutely dripping for her.

“Well, well.. all this for me?”

“All for you. A-always.”

“Charming, are we?”

Alcina went to move a little closer but felt them tense, immediately making her stop. A single eyebrow raised at them inquisitively.

“Draga?”

“It's just.. you're exhausted, Alcina.. you don't have to-”

“Hush. When have you ever known me to do something I haven't wanted?”

They chuckled, blushing sheepishly. “You have a point.”

“Plus,” she smirked, “I'm not quite finished with my meal yet.”

An even deeper blush. “O-oh. Alright, then.”

The Countess hummed in content when her lover finally relaxed, their head falling softly back. Their sweet scent immediately pulling her back in, lips quickly finding their pulse point while her fingers teased their entrance. With soft folds so wet that she found barely any resistance as she slid two fingers into them, generously stretching their core.

“Mmph-!”

A single curl as the Countess closed her eyes, allowing her fangs to sink deep into the human’s flesh once again.

“F-fuck-”

She couldn't help but to draw her gaze upward, to enjoy the view for just a moment. Her stunning love - flushed, legs spread - eyes closed softly in a mix of want and preparation. It truly were a shame, she thought, how mortal humans could be. To lose such a gorgeous sight was an offense to Alcina’s very being. That the world could ever lose such beauty? It was a thought that made her all the more eager - almost ravenous - to possessively stake her claim upon them.

To which she did..

With the Lady's fangs seeped deep within their flesh and her fingers buried in their core. Thrusting, curling. Matching the controlled pulls from their thigh as she feasted upon them. With each movement willing the most arousing sounds from her lover. Some breathy, some loud - moaning each and every time Alcina drove her fingers in a little harder. But it wasn't enough, not for her. The Countess wanted more. She wanted her name screamed out into the night in ecstasy. She wanted her claim imprinted into the stars themselves.

And she paid no mind to how many orgasms ripped across her lover's body. She cared not for how soaked both her fingers and the fabric below her became. Having now fed to her content, her mouth began moving onto marking the rest of their thighs. Nibbling and sucking over every inch of eager flesh that she could reach. Their essence dripping from the corners of her mouth and painting their skin in a dark crimson. Their body trembling, vibrating with desire until another orgasm ripped through them violently, finally forcing the Countess’ name from their tongue like a pious prayer. Their voice quickly falling to nothing more than a whisper - raw from unhindered pleasure.

“F-fuck, Alcina..”

“Mh, language.”

“Pretty sure.. it's warranted.”

Alcina chuckled before licking the excess blood from her lover's wounds, their thighs sufficiently covered in her claim.

“These should heal in a few days. I'll bring you some balm for them tomorrow.”

“Hm.. I like them, though.” The human pouted.

The Countess snorted. “Of course you do. My sweet little masochist.”

Feeling fully refreshed from her meal, Alcina had no intention of sleeping anytime soon, but she knew her handservant would certainly need rest after all of that. The loss of blood mixed with the intense dopamine boost would be enough to wipe anyone out. Without muttering a word, Alcina rose to her full height and picked up her lover's discarded underwear before lifting them up into her arms and into a full bridal carry.

“My lady-!”

“Hush, draga. You've lost a fair amount of blood, as well as other bodily fluids. You need to rest.” Even with the short walk from the library to the servants quarters, the body in her arms quickly grew heavy with sleep - the human’s breath nearly in a slumbered rhythm by the time they’d arrived.

“I’ll be back with some tea and something sweet for you, pet.” She said as she laid them gently onto their bed. “Please, try to drink and eat at least a little something before falling asleep.”

Her lover nodded tiredly, eyes heavy and cheeks flush with sleep.

“Mhm.. yes.. mistress…”

Alcina smiled and placed a tiny kiss to their cheek before walking towards the door. She was more than certain they'd be fast asleep by the time she returned, but she’d still do her best to make sure they woke up knowing just how much she treasured them.

Warm tea, their favorite pastry, some balm for their wounds and a note reading "Thank you for the exquisite meal, draga. Next time is on me. - xx, Alcina." would be there to greet them as soon as they woke up.

A/N: If I ever make it to 2k, I might just finally do some bottom!Alcina for you all 👀♥️

[artyandink]

the art of heresy forged 1982

SUMMARY: Modern day, 2022, and you have no clue what’s going on. You knew what you went through. You knew it was real, but why were there people trying to convince you that everything that happened to you wasn’t real. Hell, you called bullshit. But you get your chance to fight back when you get a call at your door.

TW: psychological torture, traummentions of sex, Ben (cause he’s an individual warning), it’s The Boys so be careful guys, really creepy shit, crack, fluff

STW: voyeurism, exhibitionism, missionary, unprotected sex

A/N - divider by @chachachannah

Song Inspo: Heaven by Julia Michaels

cracked armour

NOVEMBER 1982:

You were in the middle of one of your usual sessions with Ben when the door swung open. Ben had you pinned beneath him, both of you completely absorbed in each other, bodies tangled in the sheets, sweat clinging to your skin, and you were right in the middle of things—no warning, no knock, nothing. Just the door creaking open and the shrill voice of Crimson Countess cutting through the room like nails on a chalkboard.

“What the fuck?”

Ben didn’t even flinch, didn’t pause for a second. He just kept going, driving into you with that same reckless abandon he always had, as if nothing had happened. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but glance over at the door to see her standing there, wide-eyed, her hands on her hips, her mouth twisted in a mix of shock and anger.

“Jesus Christ, Marjorie,” Ben growled without breaking his rhythm. “What the hell do you want?”

You let out a snort, barely holding back a laugh as you gripped the headboard to steady yourself. “Yeah, you can see we’re kinda busy here.”

Marjorie—Crimson Countess—looked like she didn’t know whether to scream or cry. Her perfectly manicured fingers clenched into fists at her sides, and she sputtered for a second before finding her voice. “Busy? You call this busy?”

Ben chuckled, deep and throaty, not missing a beat. “Yeah, sweetheart. Busy. You know, this thing we’re doing here. Real complicated. Takes focus.”

You couldn’t help but throw in your own dig, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you smirked up at her. “You could always pull up a chair, Marj. Take notes if you need ‘em.”

Her face flushed crimson, almost matching the ridiculous red getup she always wore. “You’re disgusting. Both of you.”

“Yeah, well,” Ben grunted, “you’re still standing there, so clearly you’re not that disgusted. Maybe you’re into it.”

“Or maybe you’re just curious,” you added with a wicked grin. “It’s okay. We all know you’re not getting it like this from anyone else.”

That set her off. She threw her hands up in frustration, her voice rising in pitch. “You’re seriously doing this while I’m standing right here?”

“Damn right, we are,” Ben said, his tone casual, as if he was discussing the weather and not in the middle of absolutely wrecking you. “Not like you’re gonna stop us, are you?”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan as Ben’s pace quickened, but you were having too much fun watching Marjorie squirm. Her eyes darted between the two of you, disbelief etched into every line of her face.

“This is fucking sick,” she spat, taking a step closer to the bed but keeping her distance like she was afraid to get too close.

“Sick?” you laughed, arching an eyebrow at her. “Nah, this is fun. But you wouldn’t know, would you? Too busy playing PR princess while we’re back here doing the real work.”

Ben let out a bark of laughter. “Real fucking work, yeah.”

Marjorie’s eyes narrowed, and for a second, you thought she might actually lunge at you. But instead, she crossed her arms over her chest, her voice cold. “I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing, Ben, but this is gonna blow up in your face. The public—”

“Fuck the public,” Ben cut her off, his tone sharp. “I don’t give a damn what they think. They don’t matter.”

You grinned up at him, locking eyes as you added, “And neither do you, Marjorie. Not here, not now.”

She looked like she’d been slapped, her lips twitching as she tried to come up with a response. But there was nothing she could say that would matter, not when Ben had made it clear that he didn’t give a shit about her or anyone else.

Ben slowed down just enough to smirk down at you, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Think she’ll stick around for the grand finale?”

You laughed, not bothering to hide the wicked gleam in your eye. “Maybe she’ll take a few notes after all.”

“Doubt it,” Ben grunted. “She’s too uptight.”

Marjorie’s face was flushed red, her breathing ragged as she stood there, hands still balled into fists. “You two are fucking insane.”

“Maybe,” Ben agreed, his voice thick with sarcasm. “But at least we’re having a good time. You should try it sometime.”

“I’ll pass,” she snapped, her voice shaking with anger. “Enjoy your little game while it lasts.”

“Oh, trust me,” you shot back, grinning. “We are.”

She stood there for another few seconds, her eyes darting between the two of you before she finally turned on her heel and stormed out, slamming the door behind her with enough force to make the walls rattle.

“Fucking drama queen,” Ben muttered, his eyes still locked on you, his breath coming in rough, heavy bursts.

You burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the now-empty room. “She really thought she could do something, didn’t she?”

Ben shook his head, still chuckling. “Dumb as a sack of bricks.”

“Yep,” you agreed, your laughter subsiding as you arched your back, pushing up against him. “Now, where were we?”

He grinned down at you, that familiar cocky smile spreading across his face as he rolled his hips again, sending another wave of pleasure crashing through you. “Right about here, I think.”

“Good,” you murmured, wrapping your legs tighter around him. “Because I wasn’t done.”

Ben smirked, his grip on your hips tightening. “Neither was I, sweetheart.”

For a moment, the encounter with Crimson Countess was nothing more than a vague memory, something to laugh about later. Right now, the only thing that mattered was the way your bodies moved together, the way every touch, every word, sent sparks of electricity shooting through your veins.

You knew this wasn’t normal—not by anyone’s standards. Most people didn’t keep going when someone walked in, especially someone like her. But you and Ben? You didn’t give a fuck. You never had, and you never would.

That was part of the fun.

“Think she’s gonna run crying to PR?” you asked breathlessly, your hands tangling in his hair as he moved faster.

“Let her,” Ben growled, his eyes blazing with that familiar mix of arrogance and lust. “Let her tell whoever the fuck she wants. I don’t care.”

You couldn’t help but grin. That was why you liked being with Ben. He didn’t care about appearances, about what people thought. He did what he wanted, when he wanted, and didn’t apologize for it.

And neither did you.

The two of you were a match made in hell, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The tension built between you, the air crackling with electricity as you moved together, faster and faster, every movement pushing you closer to the edge. You could feel your muscles tightening, the familiar heat pooling in your stomach as you hurtled toward release, and from the look in Ben’s eyes, he was right there with you.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he growled, his voice low and rough. “Show me what you’ve got.”

You bit your lip, a moan escaping your throat as you arched against him, your body shuddering as the tension finally snapped. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you, leaving you breathless and trembling beneath him.

Ben wasn’t far behind, his own release hitting him like a freight train. He let out a low, guttural moan as he collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving with every breath.

For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of your breathing, the only sign of the chaos that had just unfolded. You lay there, tangled together in the sheets, bodies still buzzing from the intensity of it all.

Eventually, Ben rolled off of you, propping himself up on one elbow as he reached for his discarded cigar. “Think she’s gonna tell Vought?”

You snorted, running a hand through your sweat-dampened hair. “Who gives a shit?”

He lit the cigar, taking a long drag before exhaling a cloud of smoke into the room. “Damn right.”

You couldn’t help but grin as you lay there, feeling a sense of satisfaction settle over you. You didn’t care what Crimson Countess did, or what Vought thought. All that mattered was the moment, the thrill of it all, and the fact that, for now, you and Ben were untouchable.

“Next time, maybe lock the door,” you said with a smirk, glancing over at the still-open door.

Ben laughed, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest. “Why? Adds to the fun.”

You shook your head, still grinning as you closed your eyes, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

With Ben, things were always unpredictable, always chaotic. But that was exactly why you kept coming back for more.

2022:

You stood at the stove, spatula in hand, flipping eggs like it was second nature. The sizzle of the pan filled the small kitchen, a comforting sound that grounded you in the present moment. The sun streamed through the windows, casting a golden hue across the countertop. Everything seemed peaceful, normal even—well, as normal as things ever got.

Behind you, Ben was grumbling as usual. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his broad chest, cigar clamped between his teeth. His face twisted in that all-too-familiar sneer of disdain as he scrolled through his phone, eyes narrowed at the screen like it was personally offending him.

“Jesus Christ,” Ben muttered around the cigar. “What the hell is this shit? Who the fuck needs a phone that talks to you? Back in the day, we just picked up the damn thing and dialed.”

You couldn’t help but snicker under your breath. “Welcome to the future, old man.”

Ben scoffed, taking a long drag from his cigar before blowing the smoke toward the ceiling. “Yeah, well, the future’s fucking stupid. Half the shit they got nowadays is useless. What happened to good old-fashioned simplicity, huh? You know, when a car was just a car and not a goddamn spaceship?”

“You sound like a cranky grandpa,” you teased, glancing over your shoulder at him with a smirk. “Next, you’re gonna tell me how much better everything was ‘back in your day.’”

“Because it was,” Ben shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You didn’t have to deal with all these gadgets and apps and…what the hell’s this thing?” He held up his phone, jabbing a finger at the screen. “A fucking smart refrigerator? Why the hell would I need my fridge to talk to me? Just keep my beer cold and shut the fuck up.”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to the stove as you scooped the eggs onto a plate. “Sounds like you’re just too old to figure it out, Ben.”

He let out a bark of laughter, stepping closer until you could feel the heat of his body behind you. “Too old? Sweetheart, I’m in my prime. These tech bros just don’t know how to make shit that works.”

“Right,” you replied, sarcasm thick in your tone as you leaned forward to grab a plate. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Ben moved closer, his large hands finding your hips as he pressed himself against your back. The familiar weight of his body was warm and solid, grounding you even as he continued his rant. “You’re telling me you like all this high-tech bullshit? What happened to just waking up, grabbing a cup of coffee, and going about your day without some gadget asking you to rate your sleep or telling you how many steps you’ve taken?”

You laughed softly, your hands steady as you set the plates on the counter. “It’s not that bad. Just different. People like convenience.”

“Convenience, my ass,” Ben grumbled, his voice low in your ear as his hands roamed lazily from your hips up your sides. “It’s just making people soft. Too much reliance on these machines. Hell, half of ‘em probably don’t know how to change a tire anymore.”

You leaned back into him, feeling the rumble of his voice vibrate through his chest. “Well, lucky for you, I’m not one of those people.”

“Damn right you’re not,” Ben muttered, his hands slipping lower, fingertips brushing along the hem of your shirt. He was getting handsy again, not that you minded—usually.

But then, his hand dipped lower, skimming over your stomach, and your body tensed. It was subtle, a brief stiffening of your muscles, but enough that you felt the change. Your breath hitched for just a second, your heart skipping an uneven beat.

Ben didn’t seem to notice at first, his lips grazing the side of your neck as he grunted something under his breath. But you could feel the tightening in your chest, that uncomfortable sensation creeping up on you, like a shadow you couldn’t shake.

He paused, his hands stilling for a moment. “You good?”

You forced a chuckle, shaking off the tension as quickly as it had come. “Yeah, fine. Just—got a weird cramp. Probably from standing too long.”

Ben’s grip loosened slightly, but he didn’t pull away entirely. His breath was warm against your ear as he spoke, his tone more curious than concerned. “Cramp, huh?”

You nodded, turning the stove off and focusing on dishing up the food. “Yeah, nothing serious. Just one of those things.”

Ben was silent for a beat, his gaze lingering on you as if he could sense something was off, even if he didn’t know what it was. But, true to form, he didn’t push. He never was one for digging into emotions, at least not unless they were his own.

“Well, if it’s nothing serious, then I guess we can keep going later,” he said with a smirk, his hands squeezing your hips again before giving you a playful slap on the ass.

You rolled your eyes, the tension in your chest easing slightly as you grabbed the plates. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“Damn right,” Ben said, swaggering over to the table like he owned the place. “And you love it.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Despite everything, despite the complicated mess that was your life, there was something comforting about Ben’s rough-edged confidence, the way he bulldozed through every situation like nothing could touch him. It was like having a storm in your corner—loud, chaotic, and impossible to ignore, but also undeniably powerful.

Still, as you sat down across from him, the brief flicker of unease from earlier lingered in the back of your mind, a shadow that wouldn’t quite go away.

Ben took a bite of his eggs, glancing up at you between chews. “You’re quiet today. What, did I finally wear you out?”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Not even close, old man.”

“Old?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You wanna talk about old? I’ll show you old when we hit round two later.”

“Pretty sure you’re already on round fifty by now,” you teased, taking a bite of your own food. “Might need to slow down before your back gives out.”

“Fuck you,” Ben grinned, clearly amused. “You wish you could keep up with me.”

You grinned back, the banter lightening the mood, but that tension in your stomach still hadn’t fully disappeared. Ben’s hand on your stomach—it had been nothing, just an absent-minded touch, but it had brought back memories you’d buried a long time ago, memories you didn’t want to face right now.

You shoved them down, locking them away where they couldn’t reach you. Not today. Not while Ben was here, running his mouth about the good ol’ days and griping about technology. You weren’t going to let the past creep in and ruin your morning.

“So,” Ben said, leaning back in his chair and taking another drag of his cigar, “what’s the plan for today? Gonna make me breakfast every morning from now on, or was this a one-time deal?”

You smirked, leaning back in your own chair. “Don’t get used to it. I’m not your maid.”

Ben laughed, a low, rough sound that sent a thrill down your spine. “Damn shame. You make a hell of an omelet.”

You raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the half-eaten plate in front of him. “You mean these eggs?”

He shrugged, unbothered. “Close enough.”

Shaking your head, you got up to clear the table, but Ben’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist. He pulled you down onto his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist as he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear.

“Let’s skip the dishes,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Got something else in mind.”

You felt that familiar heat rise in your chest, your body responding to his touch despite the lingering discomfort from earlier. But still, there was a part of you that hesitated, a part of you that couldn’t shake the memories his touch had stirred up.

“Ben,” you started, but he cut you off with a kiss, his lips rough and demanding against yours.

Whatever you had been about to say was forgotten, lost in the heat of the moment as you gave in, letting yourself get swept up in the chaos that was Ben. His hands roamed your body, fingers digging into your skin as he deepened the kiss, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

For now, the past could stay buried. You had enough to deal with in the present.

You pulled into Georgia’s driveway, the crunch of gravel under the tires the only sound as Ben sat next to you, looking about as out of place as a bear in a tea shop. He was fidgeting with his cigar, lighting it for the third time since you’d left your place. He glanced at the house with narrowed eyes, lips pulled into a scowl. You could practically see the gears in his head turning.

“Remind me again why the hell we’re doing this?” Ben asked, his voice gruff, irritation evident as he took another drag from his cigar. “I’m not exactly the family man type.”

You chuckled, pulling the keys from the ignition and turning to face him. “Because it’s polite to visit people, Ben. Especially when they’re family. You’ll be fine. Just don’t swear every other sentence, alright?”

Ben scoffed, leaning back in his seat and blowing smoke out of the window. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just sit there like a good little puppy and pretend to give a shit about... what? Kids' soccer games? PTA meetings? Jesus, I’m already regretting this.”

“They’re not asking you to join the PTA, relax. Just... be nice. Try not to traumatize the kids.”

Ben muttered something under his breath, but he didn’t argue further. You both knew this wasn’t his scene—family gatherings, kids running around, small talk with people who weren’t about to get shot or punched. But this visit wasn’t about him; it was about Georgia, your niece, who you hadn’t seen properly in years.

You got out of the car, and Ben followed with his usual swagger, rolling his shoulders as though preparing for a battle. You had to hide a grin—he was more nervous than he let on, and the idea of him being awkward around kids was just plain funny.

As you approached the door, it swung open to reveal Georgia standing there with a broad smile. “Auntie! You’re here!”

She wrapped you in a tight hug, and you smiled, hugging her back. She was all grown up now, in her forties with kids of her own, but she still had that sweet energy she’d always had. There was a part of you that found it almost grating, but the pride you felt for her managed to outweigh the disdain.

“Of course I’m here,” you said, pulling back to look at her. “I’m not gonna miss a chance to catch up.”

Georgia’s gaze flickered to Ben, standing awkwardly beside you, his cigar clenched between his teeth as though it was the only thing holding him together. “And you brought... Soldier Boy.”

“Yeah, well, he’s hard to shake off,” you teased, nudging Ben in the ribs with your elbow.

Ben grunted, giving Georgia a half-hearted nod. “Nice place you got here.”

Georgia smiled, a little unsure of how to respond to Ben’s gruff demeanor but polite as ever. “Thanks! Come on in, both of you. Ryan and the kids are in the living room.”

You and Ben followed her inside, stepping into the cozy warmth of the house. The smell of baking cookies wafted from the kitchen, and the faint sound of children’s laughter echoed from the other room. The normalcy of it all hit you like a wave—this was the life you could’ve had, maybe. If things had been different.

Ryan, Georgia’s husband, was sitting on the couch with their kids—a girl about seven and a boy around eleven. The boy, Liam, looked up at you with curious eyes, while the girl, Ella, was more focused on her tablet.

“Hey, Auntie,” Ryan greeted, getting up from the couch and offering a hand to Ben, who hesitated for a split second before shaking it.

Ben wasn’t much for pleasantries, but at least he was trying. “Ryan,” Ben said, his tone short but not entirely dismissive.

You smiled and sat down next to Georgia on the couch, the familiar comfort of family making you relax. Ben, however, stayed standing for a moment, clearly unsure of what to do with himself before eventually taking a seat next to you, his broad frame practically swallowing the chair.

The small talk began—how the kids were doing, Georgia’s job, Ryan’s latest project at work. Ben mostly grunted in response, keeping his words to a minimum as he watched the kids with a wary eye, like they might attack at any moment.

After a while, Georgia stood up, clapping her hands together. “Alright, Auntie, you ready to help me finish up those cookies?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You think I remember how to bake?”

“Come on,” she laughed. “You used to be good at it. Besides, we’ll let the guys bond, right?”

You shot Ben a quick glance. The thought of leaving him alone with Ryan and the kids was mildly amusing, but also concerning. Still, you figured he could manage for a few minutes. “Alright, lead the way.”

As you followed Georgia into the kitchen, you heard Ben grunt behind you. “Don’t take too long. I’m not exactly the babysitting type.”

Ryan chuckled. “You’ll be fine, man. It’s just kids.”

In the kitchen, Georgia handed you an apron, which you waved off, and set out some dough for the cookies. As you started rolling it out, she glanced at you, her expression softening.

“So... what’s going on with you and Soldier Boy? Are you guys... a thing?”

You paused, your hands stilling for a moment before you resumed rolling the dough. “A thing? I wouldn’t call it that.”

Georgia frowned, her curiosity piqued. “But you came here together. You’re, like, a couple, right?”

You sighed, knowing this conversation was going to happen eventually. “It’s... complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

You shot her a look, trying to decide how much to explain. “We’ve got an arrangement. We’re... close, but it’s not exactly the whole flowers and dates kind of deal.”

Georgia tilted her head, trying to wrap her head around it. “So, you’re... not dating?”

“Not in the traditional sense,” you admitted, smirking at how understated that was. “It works for us. We’re both rough around the edges, not really the romantic type, you know?”

Georgia raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t push further. “Alright. As long as you’re happy.”

You snorted. “Happiness is overrated. But yeah, I’m good.”

She didn’t quite seem to buy it but let it go for the moment. Instead, she started telling you about Ella’s latest school project and how Liam was getting into sports, and you let yourself get lost in the simplicity of family life, even if it wasn’t yours.

Meanwhile, back in the living room, Ben was having a slightly different experience.

Liam, the eleven-year-old, had been watching him closely ever since you left the room. Eventually, he scooted closer, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Hey, Soldier Boy,” Liam said, his voice hesitant but eager. “Can I ask you something?”

Ben raised an eyebrow, glancing at Ryan, who was distracted by something on TV. “What is it, kid?”

Liam fidgeted, looking around to make sure no one was listening. “How does... uh... how does sex work?”

Ben blinked, completely caught off guard. For a moment, he just stared at the kid, processing what he’d just heard. “What the hell?”

Liam’s eyes went wide. “I mean, I just... I heard some stuff at school, and I thought maybe you’d know.”

Ben sighed, running a hand over his face. This was definitely not in his wheelhouse. He glanced toward the kitchen, silently cursing you for leaving him alone with this.

“Look, kid,” Ben started, leaning forward, “sex... it’s complicated. You don’t need to worry about it yet. But when the time comes, you do it like a man.”

Liam blinked. “Like a man?”

“Yeah,” Ben continued, clearly out of his depth but powering through anyway. “You don’t... overthink it. Just, you know, be confident. Be in charge.”

Liam nodded, though he looked more confused than enlightened.

“Right,” Ben muttered, realizing how unhelpful he was being. “Look, maybe ask your dad, alright?”

Just then, Ryan glanced over, catching the tail end of the conversation. “Ask me what?”

Liam hesitated, glancing between his dad and Ben before shaking his head. “Nothing, never mind.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow but let it go. Ben, on the other hand, was desperately hoping the topic would never come up again.

Back in the kitchen, you were helping Georgia place the cookies on a tray when you heard Liam’s voice echo from the living room, asking about sex. You froze, eyes widening as you shot Georgia a look.

She chuckled nervously. “Uh... should we intervene?”

You shook your head, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Let’s see if Ben can handle it.”

After a few minutes, you and Georgia returned to the living room, carrying a plate of freshly baked cookies. Ben was still sitting on the chair, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, while Liam was quietly munching on a cookie, his mind clearly still processing whatever Ben had said.

“So,” you said, setting the plate down on the coffee table, “everything go alright while we were gone?”

Ben shot you a look that could’ve melted steel. “Peachy.”

Georgia laughed, shaking her head as she sat down next to Ryan. “Well, I’m glad you two could make it. It’s been a while.”

You smiled, relieved that the worst of it was over. “Yeah, it’s good to catch up. Even if Ben here had an... interesting conversation with Liam.”

Ryan chuckled, glancing at Ben. “So, how’s your visit been?”

Ben cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact. “It’s been... different.”

Georgia gave you a questioning look, clearly curious about the nuances of your relationship with Ben. You just shrugged, deciding to keep things light.

“Different is one way to put it,” you said, glancing at Ben. “But it’s been good.”

You and Ben trudged back into the apartment, the door clicking shut behind you with a familiar thud. The evening had been a whirlwind of awkward interactions and half-baked explanations, and you were more than ready to escape into the solace of your own space. Ben, still visibly perturbed by the entire experience, tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter and slouched against it with a sigh.

“Well, that was a goddamn circus,” he muttered, reaching for the bottle of whiskey you both kept in the cupboard. He poured himself a generous glass, taking a long swig before turning to face you. “Never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad to be back here.”

You leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and tried to shake off the strange discomfort that had lingered from the visit. Your thoughts had been preoccupied with a myriad of things throughout the evening—your niece’s sweetness, the kids’ innocent curiosity, and a gnawing sense of something unspoken.

Ben caught your distant look and raised an eyebrow. “Something on your mind?”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance as you grabbed a glass for yourself and poured a modest amount of whiskey. The amber liquid swirled inside the glass, offering a brief distraction from the conversation you were about to dive into. “Just thinking. That’s all.”

Ben took another sip, clearly not buying your casual demeanor. “Thinking about what? Don’t tell me you’re still stuck on how I handled the kid’s question about sex.”

You winced slightly, the memory still vivid. “Not exactly. Just… other things.”

Ben’s eyes narrowed, his expression softening with a touch of genuine curiosity. “Like what?”

You hesitated, weighing whether or not to dive into the topic. The conversation about kids had been avoided during the visit, and it wasn’t exactly a subject you were eager to tackle. But Ben’s probing look made it clear he wasn’t going to let it slide.

“Well, since you asked,” you said, taking a deep breath and settling into a nearby chair. “I was just thinking about… if we’d ever wanted kids.”

Ben’s face twisted in thought as he settled into the chair opposite you, his posture casual but attentive. “Kids, huh? Funny you mention that. I’ve definitely thought about it before.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. “You have?”

Ben nodded, taking another swig from his glass. “Yeah. Back when I was with Marjorie, we had these… grand plans, you know? The whole family thing. Thought it’d be great to have a kid or two running around. But then life happened, and… well, I guess that’s not on the cards anymore.”

You nodded, a touch of sadness flickering across your face despite your efforts to stay composed. “Yeah, life happens.”

There was a brief silence as Ben stared into his glass, the room filled with the soft clinking of ice. You could sense the weight of his unspoken regrets and the path his life had taken, and it struck a chord with you. But you were far more adept at masking emotions than Ben, and you focused on maintaining your tough exterior.

“Did you ever want kids?” Ben asked, breaking the silence, his eyes still fixed on his drink.

You hesitated, your fingers gripping the edge of your glass a little tighter. “I don’t know. I never really thought much about it.”

Ben raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Never? Not even when you were younger?”

You shook your head, forcing a casual tone despite the tightness in your chest. “Not really. Things were always so… unpredictable. I guess I never thought I’d have a stable enough life to think about having kids.”

Ben leaned forward, his expression softening. “You know, I always figured you’d be great with kids. You’ve got that… protective streak.”

You looked away, feeling a pang of unease. “Yeah, well, things don’t always work out the way you plan.”

Ben took another drink, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrent of tension. “True enough. But sometimes, it’s worth thinking about what might have been, you know? Even if it’s just for a moment.”

You nodded, the words hitting closer to home than you’d expected. “Yeah, I suppose.”

The conversation fell into another silence, the clinking of glasses and the faint hum of the city outside filling the void. You took a sip of your whiskey, trying to steady your nerves as you thought about the life you’d lived and the choices you’d made.

Ben broke the silence with a chuckle. “You know, I think we’d have made a hell of a team if we’d ever decided to have kids.”

You managed a wry smile. “Yeah? How’s that?”

He grinned, leaning back in his chair with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Well, you’d be the strict one, keeping them in line, and I’d be the one teaching them how to break the rules.”

You chuckled despite yourself, shaking your head. “Yeah, I can see that.”

Ben’s grin widened. “You’d have made a great mom, you know.”

The compliment, however casual it was, made you stiffen. You took a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Thanks. I suppose.”

Ben seemed to pick up on the shift in your mood, though he didn’t comment on it directly. Instead, he just took another drink and studied you with a thoughtful look. “But hey, we’re still here, still kicking. And that’s something.”

You nodded, managing a small smile. “Yeah. That’s something.”

The conversation drifted away from the topic of kids as you both delved into more trivial matters, the evening winding down with a sense of settled familiarity. But the discussion had left you with a lot to think about. Ben’s offhand remarks about children and what could have been stirred up old emotions, ones you weren’t entirely prepared to confront.

As the night wore on and you both settled into a more relaxed routine, the weight of the earlier conversation lingered, a reminder of the paths you’d taken and the choices you’d made. And while Ben seemed content to move on, you found yourself grappling with the implications of what might have been, even as you masked your thoughts with a veneer of nonchalance.

Fuck.

©️ 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐤 / 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝

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[cheynovak]

The assistant

Reader x Soldier Boy 

Warnings:  Where to start... Smut 18+, Fluff, Alcohol, Cursing, unprotected sex, mentioning of rape, you name it ... (Make sure you're always protected!)  

Side note: English isn’t my first language.  

Words: 7331 

POV: Y/N is best friend and personal assistant from Crimson Countess. The close position Y/N had and the fact that she is not a supe made it hard on her to see the things she got away with. Part from all that, she hated the fact that Crimson and Soldier Boy were dating, Y/N couldn’t stand the man! Or could she? Their mutual frustration on Crimson Countess brings them closer together.  

I wanted to make this in one part but made a sequal.  

----------------------- 

Y/N and CC (that is the nickname she gave Crimson Countess since she didn’t want to use her civilian name anymore.) are best friends since they were little kids. When CC got her spot at Payback she could choose a personal assistant, immediately she thought of Y/N, there was no one she could trust more in this world.  

Y/N just got into the office and had been called to an emergency meeting with Payback. Everyone was on edge. Y/N walked in delivered CC her coffee smiled politely at Soldier Boy who clearly was in a bad mood and sat down on her chair behind Crimson. “So, if I get this right” The leader supe started to talk. “You’re punishing me, us, for the shit show TNT created?” - “Let’s not forget the mess our PR team had to cover up from your last trip with Countess. House arrest until the storm in the media is over!” Was the answer he got. Yeah, right your PR team Y/N thought, I had to clean her shit up and made sure no one knew about the casualties. Vought thought it would be a good idea to let her go on a little trip with her man to let off steam and showing the world they were the perfect IT couple. But instead, she got so frustrated with him that she tried to blow his head off, literally in the middle of Venice.  

That is all they were doing lately, fighting. CC hated it that her boyfriend got all the credit, fame and success.” That old bastard is nothing without Payback.” She had told Y/N last week. “Who gives a shit he stormed Normandy. We’re fucking over 30 years past that crap.” Y/N couldn’t believe her, she wanted the fame and glory but forgot that if Soldier Boy hadn’t chosen her, she probably would still be fighting local crime. “CC don’t you think you’re overreacting, a little bit? I mean come on without him you might not be here at Vought.” The second those words left her lips Y/N realized she made a huge mistake. Crimson turned to Y/N. “YOU, you jealous bitch, that’s it isn’t, you want my success! Nooo, you want my man! I’ve seen you looking at him, smiling at him! Is that why you dressed so cute today? To impress him?” Without hesitation CC threw her piping hot coffee at her. Luckily the coffee only spilled on her dress and not her skin. Y/N decided not to react to it and walked away, knowing if she would answer, she might get fired.  

“She is just not herself right now, she needs some time to cool off, you like her, you love her.” Y/N mumbled under her breath while walking in the lounge bar searching for something to clean her dress. She didn’t see Soldier Boy sitting in the corner, in one of the cosy boxes. “Trouble in paradise?” He asked not getting up. Y/N jumped up by the sound of his voice, bumping her head at the bar. “I’m sorry Soldier Boy. Didn’t see you there. I’ll be gone in a second, I’m just looking for something to get this coffee stain of my dress.” - “Don’t go, could use some company.” He said tapping the seat next to him, Y/N looked better at him this time. There were 2 empty bottles of whiskey on the table, he was working on the 3rd one. Y/N got closer, he moved so she could sit with him. “Besides, it’s Ben, but I told you that countless times before, haven’t I?” He looked at her, for the first time she dared to look him in the eye. “So, what was it this time, coffee to hot, to cold?” He nodded at the stain, Y/N sights “No, the fact that I smiled at you this morning.” Ben looked at her confused. ”You smiled at me this morning?” - “At the meeting, you looked at me I smiled instead of saying good morning. Because it clearly wasn’t a good morning for you.” She said looking at the bottles. Ben started laughing. “That jealous bitch.”  

“That’s what she called me...” You said while pouring a glass for yourself. “Are you?” He asked. “Oh no, wouldn’t want to have her life.” Y/N looked at her glass. “Nothing? Not one piece of it?” He asked while trying to make eye contact. “Well, being seen or being loved is a nice thought. You know walking through these halls and when you see someone you know for years, you say hi, they at least answer or nod instead of looking at you like you’re a nobody.” She admitted “That would make it less awkward to use their first name.” She smiled at him making it very clear that she was talking about him.  

Ben nodded slowly. “I’ll make sure I’ll remember it next time.” Liking her boldness.  

After a couple of glassed Y/N got pretty drunk and bluntly honest, but Ben seemed to like it.  

They joked around had nice conversation, even though Ben wasn’t half as drunk as she was, he trusted her. Telling Y/N why CC got on his nerves, and honestly, she understood the man especially after today. “Can I ask you something Ben?” She asked laying her hand on his arm. “Why are you still with her, if she irritates you so much?” Moving his face closer to hers. “I could ask you the same.” - “I like my job and she is my best friend since, well, forever.” She said, looking in his green eyes, waiting for his answer. Ben looked at her lips before making eye contact again. “I like her best friend.” He smiled  

Y/N’s face turned red and before she could move away Ben moved even a little closer and kissed her cheek, all of the sudden she felt very sober. “I -I should probably go check on her.” Y/N said and quickly moved away.  

Y/N stepped way to quick out of that room, definitely NOT playing it cool. She didn’t go back to Crimson, but instead she went for a little walk on the campus, thinking about what Ben had said. She always had a little crush on him ever since puberty, CC knew that and that was why she reacted the way she did. But Y/N knew her place, besides, since she worked for Vought her crush was quickly crushed knowing how many one-night adventures he had with actresses and such. Let alone the killing and mistakes they covered up. She had nothing against him or CC, she was even thrilled when CC told her Ben had asked her out on a date. And they had nothing against her either. But the thought that if she wasn’t ‘theirs’ and she would get hurt out in the open, they wouldn’t care. That made her almost puke, they were supposed to be the heroes.  

That night Y/N didn’t sleep well, she had a dream about that moment hours earlier. She walked in with her stained dress. Ben was standing there in a tux holding champagne. ”Hi" he smiled his picture-perfect smile. Taking her hand over to a candle lit table. The entire time he looked in her eyes, touched her hand, laughed when she told a joke, interested when she told him a story about her childhood. At the end of the dream Ben had got up asked her to dance. He placed a hand at the small of her back leaning close to her and like a man enchanted with her lips he moved in, closing the space between their lips. Everything deep down she knew we wouldn’t do. When Y/N woke up she felt guilty, a little ridiculous considering it was only a dream. And comparing it to the steaming wet dreams she had about her and soldier boy as a teen, this was nothing! “God don’t think about that.” She whispered to herself. ”You are seeing him in less than an hour for the daily meeting.”  

Surprisingly Y/N was first in the conference room taking her usual seat in the corner. She wisely chose a jeans with a casual shirt and her hair up with a pin. Not to get CC started on dressing up for “her man” again. Everyone entered one by one. Nobody greeted her not even CC, she looked still pissed at her and deliberately taking the seat opposite of her to make a statement. Y/N was already writing some notes down for herself not paying any attention, Ben was last to arrive, he said good morning in general, Y/N glanced for a second and moved her attention back to her paper. But instead of taking his regular seat next to CC he walked past Y/N bending over so she would notice him. “Good morning.” He winked at her like he was telling her, I remember. “Hi.” she said being flustered. Y/N’s eyes followed him back to his seat next to Crimson she saw the look on her face while she kept looking at Ben for an explanation. This is going to get them into a fight again Y/N thought, Ben was clearly ignoring her look. Although Y/N tried to stay focussed in the meeting, her eyes get glancing over at Ben, he once or twice caught her looking which made his tongue move over his lips, smirking.  

After everybody got their assignments for the day they left. CC walked over for a talk. “What did Ben say to you?” - “What? Eh, good morning. Seriously CC stop being jealous.” Y/N took whatever confidence she had and decided to tell Countess her thoughts. “Listen, I’m no supe, I am a nobody, Ben chose you, you are gifted I'm not, you are HOT, I'm not ... ok. Just because I used to have a crush on him when I was 17, like by the way, half of the US, doesn’t mean I WANT your man. He just said good morning because I told him yesterday, when I was still pissed because of our fight, I told him it was damn time to recognise the normal people in the halls when they greet you.” Y/N was out of breath after that. “And if you now want to excuse me. I’ve got paperwork to do.” CC left. Y/N sighted and lowered her head in her hands. After a second or two she got up took her paperwork and left the room. “For the record. I don’t think you realize how hot you are.” Y/N was startled by that unexpected comment that she dropped her papers. “Jesus, Soldie...” But before she could finish that sentence, he wiggled his finger” Uh-uh-uh.” - Y/N rolled her eyes. “Jesus, BEN!” she corrected while picking up her papers. “Much better.” He grinned.  

“How long were you standing there?” She asked when they walked towards the elevator. “Long enough to hear you finally defending yourself Sweetheart.” That nickname made you feel butterflies. They stepped in the elevator, the doors closed. “So, you had a crush on me?” He asked casually. Y/N could feel her cheeks glowing.” Eh, yeah.” Ben stepped closer to her putting his hands against the wall behind her, trapping her between his arms and body. “Now that is something you forgot to mention yesterday at our little rendezvous.” He leaned in, Y/N moved her face to the side she could hear him taking a deep breath in. “You really smell good, I never noticed before.” He said with a deeper voice than before. Y/N looked up at him, standing so close she could feel his breath on her face. The door opened Ben looked over and took a step back but not quick enough to be unnoticed by Gunpowder who entered. Ben gave him a dark glace to which he simply nodded. It looked like Ben told him “not a word” without saying a thing.  

Floor 7 

“This is me.” Y/N said quickly jumping out but of course Ben followed.  

Y/N opened the door to her office, Ben walked in right behind her closing the door. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” She said nervous. “Yes, I want to know more about you. He said while looking around her office. Well office, it was more of a closet repainted with a window so small it looked like a prison cell.  

“Why are you so nervous?” - I’m not.” She lied.  

“You know I can hear your heartbeat right.’ He looked at her again.  

“So, your little crush on me. You had posters?” - “Yes.” she said sitting on her desk while he looked outside. “Let me guess, movie posters?” - “Eh no, the D—day one and one where you’re not actually posing but more like talking to the soldiers. That was my favourite.” He looked shocked.  

Ben walked back towards Y/N standing against her legs. Y/N had to look up almost with her head in her neck as he hovered above her. He lowered his face next to her ear placing a hand on the desk next to her thigh. “Did you ever dream of me? Of us...” He whispered not moving his face. Y/N’s heart started to beat really fast. “You did, didn’t you.” He sounded excited. “Did you ever... touch yourself thinking of me?” Ben asked while he placed a small peck on the spot under her ear. Y/N closed her eyes and sighed almost whimpered at that question. Ben got up again moving himself so he could stand between her legs. Y/N slowly opened her eyes only to see that his were darkened with lust. He moved his thumb over her lips. “I wish I could’ve seen that. You, touching yourself for the first time, experimenting with your body, searching for that one sweet spot inside that makes you go over the edge.” He swallowed deep.  

Y/N’s mouth opened slightly to get more air. But instead of getting air, Ben dipped down holding Y/N’s head with both hands and kissed her hard, slipping his tongue inside finding hers quickly. The kiss wasn’t rushed, but he made sure she would be out of breath. “Ben...” she whispered. “Tell me sweetheart, you ever been with a man?” - “Yes. Once or twice. First, boyfriend” She said hesitating.   

“Did it feel as good you fantasised.” he asked while kissing her neck. Y/N got shy keeping her head down. When Ben looked at her for an answer, he noticed her looking away. “What’s wrong?”  

“It wasn’t really, I didn’t want... Not really.” Was all she could manage to say but Ben understood what she meant. “He just took it? Didn’t he?” Y/N nodded ashamed afraid that Ben would be repulsed by her. He did take a step back, Y/N held on to the shirt, telling him not to go. “Oh sweetheart.” He kissed the temple of her head. But Y/N didn’t want this feeling to stop, so he placed a hand on his neck pulling him in for another kiss. This time she took the lead and licked his lips. “Are you sure Y/N?” - “Yes, please.”  

His lips crashed against her. His hands moved hungry over her body pulling her shirt over her head while she took his suit off. Y/N’s hands moved over his naked torso towards his hips. Her lips leaving his to follow her hands, kissing his hips while trying to undo his belt. He moaned her name. Y/N was surprised by her boldness but the heat inside her had to be satisfied. Her hands quickly found their way to his clothed bulge softly rubbing and squeezing.  

Ben got wild from desire, moving down remove her shoes, jeans and panties. He looked up to lock eyes with her before kissing her clit. Y/N moaned his name while laying back at her desk.  

Ben worked his way on her. Licking her folds open tasting her, dipping his tongue inside her while his hands pushed her bra up, so he could hold her breast. Softly pinching her nipples.  Not even in her wildest dreams she would imagined a man doing this, but it felt so good all she could do is moan and whime. When Ben changed his tactics by pushing two fingers inside her and suck on her clit, she quickly felt the heat in her stomach grow. She lifted herself back up to look at him smirking he knew he had her on edge. And when he curled his fingers, she couldn’t hold back anymore she started screaming his name while grabbing his hair, not caring about her surroundings anymore.  

After her high he stood up kissing her, Y/N could still taste herself on his tongue. It secretly made her even more horny. And while he was kissing her, she pulled his underwear off. Starting to stroke it hard cock. She was surprised it was so big, the man she had been with was nothing compared to Ben’s size. Ben saw the look on her face. “Don’t worry sweetheart, It will feel good.” He pulled her back to the edge of the desk holding her legs open. Pumping once or twice before he lined up against her wet hole. She could feel the sting, every inch he moved she could feel it, biting her lip feeling herself clenching up. “Relax, it will feel better in a second, I promise.” He said leaning in looking her in the eye. When he saw the pain disappearing, he started to thrust his hips back into her, this felt painfully slow for him, but he took his time with her.  

“Ben...”  

“Yes sweetheart.” 

“More... harder... please.” Y/N could feel he was desperately holding back. “I’m not going to break.”  

She could hear him growl at that comment. Hearing the beast in him wanting to take her so hard she wouldn’t be able to walk anymore. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He said kissing her hard. “Ben, please. Take me hard, show me what I've missed.” He pulled out lifted her up and turned her around. Laying her on her stomach on the desk. He hovered above her while he let his cock slide between her soaking folds. He could hear her beg. “Please!” He thrusted hard back in her, the sound that came out of her sounded so intense so primal, it made him growl. Ben took her so hard the desk started to shake. Y/N’s moans filled the room, it sounded like a porn movie. He pulled her back by her hips so he could push in even harder and deeper. Ben felt she was close, her cunt started to tighten around his dick. “Come on baby let go. Fuck, come hard on my dick, I want to feel you riding out that orgasm on me.” Y/N screamed his name like a prayer, he felt her shacking and clenching around him. He felt he couldn’t hold much longer he pulled out and started to pump his cock. She felt the warm liquid dribble on her ass while Ben was panting behind her.  

 

Ben took a few tissued out of the box at her desk, cleaning Y/N up. Before turning her around and kiss her again. “That was... better than my dreams.” She admitted. Ben clearly felt joy of that comment. “Well, I hope we can do this more often. Because I wasn’t lying when I told you that I like you.” He said still out of breath. He got dressed again kissed her head and left her sitting at her desk while he walked through the door. Y/N had no idea how she could recover from that and how she had to get through the day. From that moment on Ben kept his eye on her. Looking at her while she was writing in meetings, listening to conferences, hell even when she was having lunch. He tried to act normal but couldn’t help himself wanting to know more about her. She seemed so pure and delicate.  

One day almost a week later he saw her sitting by herself at lunch working like always. He decided to join her. Y/N’s eyes got big when he sat down. “What are you doing?” - “Eating.” He answered cocky. - “No, I mean, why are you sitting here?” Y/N looked around to see if CC was around. Lucky she wasn’t, she had told Y/N that Ben acted strange but didn’t know why. But other people were looking at them. “Ben, people are staring.” she whispered hanging over the table. But when Ben turned to look at them, they all quickly moved or turned away. “So, what are you working on?” He asked while taking a bite.” - “Really, small talk?” She said looking him in the eye. “You rather have me taking you here on the table?” He said smiling. - “Your Christmas Party. I’m organising it.” She said not to react to his last request. “It’s this weekend, I'm making the guest list.” - “You’re coming?” - “No, I, never, I’m spending it with family.” He nodded looking sad. After the weird interaction at lunch Y/N worked her week as usual.  

On Christmas she went home to her parents where she officially still lived. “Y/N honey I’ve invited Dylan and his parents to celebrate with us. Y/N’s heart sunk thinking about Dylan being there. Her first boyfriend who didn’t understood a “no�� for answer. Great she thought, hearing my folks talking about what a great item we could have been if I didn’t ended things. “You know, you could have been married by now, if you didn’t broke up.” Your mom said like she could hear your thoughts.  

The evening went seemingly smooth, Dylan kept mostly to himself, but then again, he didn’t have anything to drink yet. 9 pm the bell rang. You looked confused at your mom. “Where expecting someone else mom?” - “Not that I know of.” she looked at your father. Y/N opened the door. “What are you doing here?” Y/N said surprised.  

“Y/N honey, who is it?” your mom walked towards the door. ”Oh my! Soldier Boy! Sir, please come in.” - Ben smirked walking past Y/N. “Thank you ma’am. You have a beautiful house.” 

“To what do we own this pleasure, sir?” Your father got out of his chair shaking his hand. “Well, since Y/N couldn’t make it to our party I thought, why not deliver her present myself. Locking eyes with her while handing her a small box. Y/N opened it knowing very well that the employees never get anything other than a thankyou speech. Covering her mouth seeing what he bought her.  “Oh my! Are those pearls?!” She looked at him with an open mouth. “My boss never gave us such gifts!” Her mother looked over at Dylan’s mom. “Well, Y/N works day and night for us. Making sure we are... satisfied. She deserves a little extra.”  

“I don’t know what to say... eh, Thank you.” Y/N felt she could kiss him but instead she just went for a hug which Ben gladly accepted. “Dessert? Or maybe a drink?” Y/N asked flustered pulling away. “Why not.” he answered not letting her fully go.  

 

Y/N introduced everyone to Ben, who in his turn used his charm to win over your mom and Dylan's mom. Both women were impressed by his manners.  

When Ben sat next to your father who was watching a documentary about the 2nd world war they started to talk about "the good old days." Y/N started to clean up the table Ben caught Dylan trying to get Y/N's attention. When she was looking through the vinyl's he got up and stood next to her. "I thought CC was your boss?" He asked rubbing his hand between your shoulders. Y/N moved gracefully away trying to avoid his touch. "I am her assistant. But Soldier Boy pretty much owns all of Vought." She looked over at him while explaining. Ben caught her glance clearly hearing every word they said, she looked a little scared.  

"Dylan..." Ben started talking to your dad. "Is he family?" Without looking up your father answered. "Oh no, he was her high school boyfriend they used to date for a while. We all loved for them to end up together. But for some reason she decided to be an independent woman." - "He is always this... close?" Ben asked feeling his frustrations grow. "Close... a hand on her hips, a kiss on the cheek, woman nowadays can't stand anything anymore am I right?" He laughs looking at Ben who was already heading towards Y/N and Dylan. "Hey Buddy, can't you see she doesn't like you touching her." Ben said while he moved in between the two of you. Ben seemed like a giant next to Dylan. "We were just talking man." -"Well, try to talk with a little more respect and a little less hands. Maybe then you will be able to keep a fine woman." Dylan walked away like a dog that had been hit.  

"Are you going to be ok sweetheart?" Ben asked when he was ready to leave. Y/N nodded and looked at him thankful. "Well, ma'am the dessert was delicious, but I've got to go. Can't miss my own party." He said to your mother. "Always welcome!" Y/N walked Ben to the door. "Next time, give me a heads up." She laughed. Ben looked over your shoulder making sure no one had followed you before he pulled you in by your hips, for a kiss. "I've missed those soft lips of yours, I even dreamed of them." He whispered while kissing your neck. "Ben! Not here." She said pulling him away. "I have missed you too." - "Well, will you think off me tonight?" Y/N noticed the arousal in his voice. "I know I will..." Y/N pulled him in for a kiss, her tongue finding his quick. Ben's hands moving to her ass pinching softly. Letting go to wave him goodbye.  

--  

After the party at Vought.  

Ben darling, I've got a surprise for you. Countess walked in the room, wearing lingerie in her signature colour. Crawling over the bed pulling the sheets down. Ben held her shoulders. "Not tonight." Crimson Countess looked confused at him. "Oh baby, so stressed... let me take care of you." she dipped under the sheets and started to give him a blow job. Ben wanted to stop her but instead he closed his eyes and start fantasising it was Y/N working her lips on him. "Oh sweetheart" He moaned. When Countess wanted to move on, he held her making sure she would finish what she started. "Don't stop sweetheart, I'm close." After he came in her mouth, he pushed her aside. Countess was clearly confused by his actions.  

--  

The next weekend.  

Y/N walked beside CC she had texted her that morning she needed a talk before the New Year's Eve party. "Have you talked to Ben lately?" She opened the conversation. "Eh no, not really why?" Y/N asked nervous knowing very well she was avoiding Ben. "He, he is acting weird, last week he didn't want to have sex and since then he only touches himself, I can hear him in the shower... Him... the man is practically walking sex on a stick! And when I started to give him a blow job that night, he called me sweetheart... He never, ever called me that." Y/N started to panic. "Y/N can you talk to him? Or find out who the whore is he is seeing? I need to know who I need to fry." Leaving her standing scared as hell in the hall.  

The party was one like every party they throw. But Y/N didn’t like it, she couldn’t stop thinking about what CC told her. Ben doesn't want her anymore... But Y/N couldn’t contain her nerves around all these drunk supes, so after an hour or two she left for the elevators. She kept thinking, Ben called her sweetheart before and told her he would be thinking of her that night... Did he mean it? She was so deep in her thoughts that she didn't see Ben standing behind her until he slipped in the elevator with her. "Where are we going?" He laughs charmingly "I'm sorry Ben, but this party not my cup of tea. I'm heading home." - "Ok, I'll take you, you never know who is out there at night." "You really don't have to, my car is parked in the garage." she said while remembering what CC told her. But Ben refused to leave her side.

Once home he asked about Dylan. "Is he the guy who..." -"Yes, and I don't want to talk about it." Y/N said quickly walking to the kitchen grabbing something to drink. Ben moved closer to her placing his hands on her hips pulling her in. She could already feel the bulge in his pants grow. "Where is everyone?" he asked kissing her neck "Out with friends. They won't be home till later. Tomorrow is little family breakfast to celebrate the first of Januari, here at this house. So, you can't stay." She said trying her best not to give in.  

"Hm, I only need a few hours." He turned her around and kissed her hard.  He was glad she chose a dress tonight. His hands moved under it, pulling her panties off, lifting her up putting her on the kitchen table, rubbing her clit with his thumb while his fingers found their way to her folds. He continued kissing her. Y/N's nails dug into his shoulders and moaned his name. "Ben... not here. Not on this table... upstairs." She managed to say. Ben took a step back and followed her to her room. Y/N closed the door and pushed Ben against it. The heat in her was unstoppable. They ripped each others clothes off. Ben threw her on the bed so hard she bounced back. "Open those pretty legs for me sweetheart."  He said while pumping his cock. He quickly placed himself between her legs pushing hard inside her. "Oh, sweetheart I've missed this pussy.” Y/N felt every inch off him as he bottoms out in her. “You feel so good. So tight." He huffed while trusting hard in her. "Oh Ben, this, you, feels so good." She moaned. For some reason Y/N felt that Ben was smoother in his touches and moves, more... loving even though he was still taking her hard.  

Y/N didn’t need much tonight, Ben was everywhere on her body kissing and licking her. She could feel her orgasm climbing. “Ben... don’t stop.” She said while her hands moved between them. Ben stopped her. ”I got you sweetheart.” He lifted her legs higher over his shoulder while he rubbed her clit. She came faster and harder than she had ever experienced. After her high Ben dropped her legs and closed the space between their bodies. He held her shoulders and placed his head in her neck. “Oh baby, I won’t be able to hold it much longer.” He whined in her ear. “It’s ok Ben, do it, let go, I want to feel you come.” Her hearing saying that made him growl. “Come inside me, please...” She begged him. As Y/N wrapped her legs tighter around his hips she felt his thrust to get sloppy. “That’s it Ben, come for me.” With a primal grunt Ben came hard inside you. Not only his hips were pushed as hard as he could against you, but his entire body held your close to his.  

He started to relax but didn’t move. You caressed his broad shoulders and back with your fingertips while kissing his head. “Oh god, that felt... really good.” He said while lifting himself off you and took the place next to you on the bed. He kissed Y/N softly. “I’m going to take a quick shower.” Y/N said. Quickly leaving the bed with Ben in it. He looked puzzled so followed you to the bathroom. He opened the curtain and stepped in the shower behind you. His hand started to move over your shoulders to your breast, kissing your neck. “Y/N...” He started but didn’t finish. Y/N turned around looking at him. “Are you ok?” - “Why wouldn’t I be?” “Well, you couldn’t be faster out that bed. Didn’t you ... like it? I know it was a little quick but not that fast.” He looked worried. “Oh no Ben, I'm satisfied trust me, I don’t think I can survive another round, it’s just...” Y/N was thinking how to say this. 

“CC knows there is something going on. She told me this morning. And I’m worried.” - “What did she say?” He asked washing her breasts and tummy. “Well, that you refuse to make love with her, that the last time, when she gave you a blowjob on Christmas you called her sweetheart and that you never call her that.” Y/N’s face turned red. “Thats true. I never call anyone sweetheart.” He said locking eyes with her. “Part from you.” He smirked “Y/N, last time I was intimate with her, I could only do it...” He stepped closer to her “Thinking it were your soft plump lips working on me.” he touched her lips with his thumb. “Is that what you fantasize about?” Y/N asked feeling nervous. He nodded “I’ve never, given...” “I know.” he kissed her soft, she felt him getting half hard again against her.  

Y/N looked up at him turning so that his back was against the shower wall. “But I would love to try.” She said while her hands were traveling down. She wrapped her hands around his shaft pumping, every time she got to his tip, she’d move her thumb over it. Ben’s eyes darkened with lust. Y/N got on her knees looking up at him. First kissed the tip taking her time to travel all the way down. Ben held her hair up without forcing her. When her warm lips wrapped around head of his cock moving down to the shaft, he couldn’t resist a moan. “Oh sweetheart, you feel better than I thought.” She slowly builds speed, moving her tongue, searching for all the things Ben seemed to enjoy. When she moved one hand to hold his balls, she saw his head fall back when his hand tugged a little harder. Bingo, she thought.  

“Relax your throat baby” He said, while pushing her a little closer. Y/N felt the tears sting in her eyes but couldn’t hold back a moan. Ben guided her to the speed he liked and when she got it on her own, he started to sigh and moan her name. “That’s it, keep that mouth working Y/N...”  

“Oh, sweetheart if you don’t want me to come in that pretty mouth of yours you need to let me pull out now.” She moaned at the idea of him filling her mouth, tasting his semen. “You sure?” He could barely ask out of breath. When she nodded, she could feel him coming. Lucky for her he just came inside her, so this time it wasn’t as much as usual. Ben helped her up. “That was so good.” he kissed her.  

They got back in bed. “You should leave in a minute.” Y/N said. “You are kicking me out?” Ben said, clearly amuses, he thought that was funny coming from her. “Not before I got to hold you. Without running to the bathroom.” He teases her. But she gladly accepted. Ben held her close, her ear on his heart, his arms around her, the sound of it beating made her fall asleep faster than anticipated. So did he. The next morning Ben woke up to a noise, coming from the kitchen. He looked at the clock. 9AM.  

He looked at Y/N who was still laying on his chest. Proud he smiled thinking to let her sleep for a few more minutes.  

“Y/N sweetheart it’s time to wake up.” your mom opened the door. “Oh, oh I'm so sorry.” she looked away. “Good morning.” Ben smiled not even the least bit embarrassed to be caught in her daughter’s bed. “Breakfast is ready and most of the family is already arrived.” She said before leaving the room. “Thanks, we’ll be down in a sec.” Ben noticed Y/N slowly woke up. “Were you just talking?” She asked with a sleepy head. “Yeah, your mom told me breakfast is ready.” Ben answered casually. “WHAT!” Y/N jumped up. “Yeah, and your family is already here.” - “Oh, no no no, I need to get you out of here!” Ben pulled her on his lap. ”Or, I could stay.” he said while kissing, breathing heavy. “You are insane.” She looked at him. “What are they going to do? Your mother already saw me.”  

You and Ben started to get dressed when you heard a knock on the door. Ben opened the door. “Honey, your aunt Martha is also downstairs, now that Soldier Boy is here, maybe he could you know, say something.” She smiled shy. Ben looked with a lot of questions at you. Y/N quickly explained. “Aunt Martha used to be a back-up dancer for you. “Don’t worry, I got it.” Ben said placing a hand on your mother’s shoulders. ”Besides, please call me Ben” He worked his charm again on her. “Oh, so sweet of you, you can call me Mary.” “You really don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” You said to Ben when your mom left again. “My pleasure” he said kissing your lips before heading down. You heard your mom saying that she needs another chair, whispering that her daughter wasn’t alone last night.  

You both walked in the dining room, all eyes on Ben who had no choice but to wear his suit. But he made a wise choice to leave the protective gear and weapons upstairs. Now it looked like a green long-sleeved shirt with a turtleneck and green pants and combat boots. You quickly noticed that your parents had invited Dylan and his family again. Y/N loved the look on his face when he recognised Ben. Your mother was so over the moon to show off that she now was on first name basis with the world most famous superhero she over did her performance. “Ben sweety, coffee?” She asked in her sweeter than honey voice. But Ben understood the assignment “That would be amazing, Mary.” He winked at her. Then he looked over at your Aunt Martha. ”I’m sorry but, have we met before?” You could see her eyes twinkle. “Well, met not really, I used to be a back-up dancer and an extra in one of your movies.” “What movie? “ He asked and then pretended to think. “Maggy, no ... Martha? Am I right?” Smooth, very smooth Y/N thought.  

Ben seemed to have won over the woman. It surprises you how civilized he is in a setting like this. He listened to the stories that were told at the table even laughed at the silly jokes. He placed his hand on your chair rubbing his thumb over your shoulder. Y/N could see her dad giving criticising looks over at the two of you, after a while he got up and walked over. “Ben, I was wondering. You are raised with older classic principals, being born in, what was it 1918?  

”September 1919.”He corrected him.“ And I guess you can say so.” “That makes you what over 50 years old.” Y/N closed her eyes knowing where this was going. “And as a man with influence at that age I can only imagen you have “enjoyed” the company of many women over these years.” He looked over at Martha, who knew how many of her colleague dancers were treated on a night with Soldier Boy himself, every year she would brag about her adventures and how she managed to stay a virgin until marrying your uncle.  

“So, why is it that a man as yourself all of the sudden, after 4 years working for you and your girlfriend, her best friend Countess, is interested in my Babygirl?” He continued his interrogation. But Ben stayed cool. “Well, A few weeks ago we shared a heart-to-heart talk about our frustrations at Vought. And other things. And that was when I realised Y/N and I have a lot in common. Besides Crimson Countess and me that is a publicity stunt, nothing real about it. ” “ In common...” Your father echoed. “She is in her 20s she has nothing in common with a man who is the same age as her parents. Beside and I’m sure you would agree, being raised traditionally, that a young woman needs a husband, a respected man like Dylan to start a family, but that isn’t possible if she is... soiled.”  

“DAD!” ”Richard!” You and your mom yell at the same time. This time Ben got slowly up and took a step closer to him. “Soiled?” He smirked getting really irritated by now.  

“You think I made your daughter do anything she didn’t want to?” Ben stood eye to eye with him.  

“I’m not saying that, I’m just wondering how much power a man like yourself has over an innocent young woman.” Y/N could see Ben clench his fist, she quickly got up to hold his hand. “Dad, Ben never forced me into doing anything. Better yet, the one man who did force himself on to me, who as you put is so gracefully soiled me, is the one you and mom keep inviting even though I begged you two not to.” Y/N looked at her mom with tears in your eyes. “Do you have any idea how difficult it was to find someone who I can trust.” Y/N’s tears started to fall of her cheeks. “And yes, Ben might be older and made terrible mistakes, but he is the first person who tries his best for me, who tries to be a better man, instead of forcing me into doing something I don’t want because he is my boyfriend and then eat and drink at our table without regret!” Ben placed a hand on her back what made Y/N stand taller now. ” If that means I have to accept that I won’t be having a family or need to live in his shadow, be a secret, I will...”  

Ben looked surprised by Y/N’s words. ”Sweetheart, I’m not planning on keeping you a secret.” “B-But CC, Vought?” Y/N looked hopeful at him. “Crimson can be replaced, maybe she can finally work on her one-woman act.”  

“I would lose my job.” - “You said it yourself, I’m practically Vought, If I say you stay you stay. I’ll create a new job for you or make you head of public relations at Vought.” Ben meant what he said. “Or I could hang up the suit, start a family, if that is what you want...” Y/N’s eyes grew big. “I, eh, I do need some time to think... About all of the above.” Ben kissed her, let me know when you ready.

Since the party was over, Y/N decided to stay at the Vought tower for a couple of days, taking a spare room. Ben walked in. ”Alright, let’s talk about it...”  

--

If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Jealous

Seeing his lady attract so much attention got Gale going in more ways than one. NSFW. Based on this post.

On the outside, Gale Dekarios was charming. Smiling. Happy. Polite. On the inside, however, he was seething. He and Ramona had decided to head downstairs to get some light refreshment when he noticed several people leering at her and now one man was speaking with her at the bar.

He’s close.

Dangerously close.

Don’t you dare touch her.

She likes it when I touch her. Only me.

I am her lover. I am her future husband…hopefully. I am her god…well, in bed. Don’t worry, Selune---you’re very much her favorite deity!

Gale stared at young tiefling flirting with her. He was tall, muscular, and had incredibly menacing horns. He’s got a handsome face as well---square jaw, a perfectly proportional nose, and striking eyes. And what a head of hair!

Everything I’m not.

No. No. She wants me. She chose me. Even when Astarion was throwing himself at her left and right, she still chose me.

He decided he had had enough and made his way to Ramona.

My beautiful girl. Perfect in every way. So damn oblivious. A trap could bite her and then detonate, and she’d still be looking for it. Gale casually walked up to her and the young man, hearing the last part of their conversation.

“—the bluebonnets are nice this time of year. Maybe we could go and see them if you want?” he asked, smiling warmly.

Ramona, however, was nodding politely, and her expression completely neutral. She lit up when she saw Gale approach, turning her head to greet him with a kiss. A chaste one. I’m not some lout wanting to show everyone who leered at her to whom she belongs. No, I will show her that in private. “Oh, sorry---my partner’s arrived. Hope you have a good rest of your evening, saer.”

The look on the young man’s face was pure disappointment. He bowed. “You as well, my lady.”

When he was out of earshot, Ramona sighed and placed her hand over her heart. “Oh thank fuck you arrived, love. I was desperately trying to think of ways for me to stop talking to him while still waiting here for our food.” She beamed at him, and Gale felt her tail wrap around his hips. Good gods, the things she does to me.

“Dearest, I very well could not have left you here to suffer inane conversation. What kind of gentleman would I be if I did?” He draped his arm around her broad shoulders, his fingers daring to go just the slightest, no one will see bit under her top to play with a bra strap.

Her cheeks flushed a deep red. “Well, you could’ve…I don’t know…let me suffer?” She glanced up at him and giggled as his index finger traced a circle with the strap in the middle. “No, you’re far too good of a man for that. A very naughty, good man.”

That’s it. I need to get her upstairs. Now. He turned to the bartender and flashed a grin. “My dear man, could the food we ordered be brought to the second room in the suites upstairs?” Gale smiled to himself as he caught her raising an eyebrow, placing several good pieces on the counter. Not to worry---the countess can always send more gold.

“Aye, sure. No problem.”

With a nod, he took her hand and led her towards the stairs. As they walked up, she laughed breathlessly. “Gale love, what on earth has gotten into you?”

“I’ll explain in one moment, my beauty.” They entered the suite common room and then made a beeline for their room, closing and locking the door behind him. Gale could feel the sweat dripping from his brow as he touched his earring, the glamour disappearing.

“Love—”

His lips crashed against hers in an instant, and his arms wrapped around her soft, thick waist. When he broke the kiss, he began to paw at her top. “Do you know how many people were staring at you? Watching you? Leering at you?” he growled. “All of them looking at your every curve, your pretty eyes, your heaving cleavage…and that young so-and-so, thinking he could charm you? Ha!” Once she was down to her smalls, he practically ripped his robes off. “What fools these mortals be---thinking they could compete with me for your affections?” You chose me. You want me. Out of all the people in the world, all of our companions…you chose me. And most days I still cannot believe it. “You’ve shown me time and time again one fundamental truth, my love. Do you know what it is?” He reached behind her and unclasped her bra with ease, freeing her large and extremely soft breasts from their confines.

Her bright blue eyes never left him as she watched him help her with her clothes and then remove his. “N-no?” she whispered; her eyes wide.

Gale cupped a breast and leaned against one of her short black horns. “That I am yours, and you, in turn, are all mine.” This pair of underwear is already tight enough and falling apart, so I suppose… His other hand reached for an existing tear in his underwear and tore them off, finally liberating my cock. Gods take me, she does things to me. “My love, my sweetest lady, my dearest one, I need you. I need you right now.” Backing her up towards the foot of the bed, he kissed her again. The kiss was sloppy and passionate, not his usual controlled, chivalrous ones he shared with her in public.

As she hit the bed, she fell backwards and let out an amused cry. “Gods Gale, were there really that many people looking at me?!” She panted in disbelief and removed her panties, tossing them on the floor. I’ll put them in the dirty clothes pile later. Everything should be organized, my dear! She moved up the length of the bed, her tail swishing all the while. “I didn’t think anyone was—”

“By Elminster’s beard, of course there were!” He sighed as he crawled to her. Stopping to line himself with her glistening cunt (fucking hells, she is so wet), Gale put his weight on his hairy forearms, nearly pressing onto her. “My love, you are alluring to anyone with eyes! And I suppose, everyone without eyes when they hear you speak! So many eyes on you—ah!” He exhaled sharply as he entered her, and she moaned wantonly. Sing for me, my angel. I want to hear it all…hear how you’re mine… “But all I could think was how you. Are. Mine.” Punctuating each word with a thrust, his rhythm became faster every second. Mine. Yours. All mine. All yours. Forever. Always.

The claws on one of her hands threaded through his silky hair as the other lightly dragged along his back. “Gale…please…”

“Too much?” He panted and hung his head to glance at her face. “If it is, I—”

She shook her head, her expression as light and bright as could be. “More, love. More…please…”

Whatever the lady desires, so it shall be done! Thrusting harder, he tugged at her plump lower lip and moaned. “You are…so beautiful…one day…you’ll see…will do anything…to have you see…what I see…”

“And you?” she asked as she reached where they were joined. Good girl. Such a good girl. “Will you see yourself as I see you, my handsome wizard?” Ramona moaned again, her cheeks now bright red. “Gale…so close, love…”

He quickly pressed a kiss to her lips. “So am I, my sweet…ah, tell me, darling…tell me I’m yours…”

“You’re mine!” she cried, her climax hitting her hard. “You’re all mine…my Gale…”

Burying his face in the crook of her neck, he nearly screamed as he released several torrents of seed into her. He rolled off her, panting heavily. “Thank you for indulging me, sweetness. You truly are the most wonderful woman in all the realms.”

Minding her horns (she’s always so careful not to nick me with her horns and claws), she curled into his soft side, head resting on his plush hairy chest and her tail swishing happily. “And you are the most wonderful man.”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Ramona quickly rose from bed and grabbed her black silk robe. As soon as we “moved into” the Elfsong Tavern, she grabbed that very sexy robe and returned saying she “needed” it. Well, it turns out I need it too because godsdamn, she looks incredible wearing it. “Hi, thank you so much! Here you go.” She took the tray of food and handed the waiter a handful of gold before she closed the door. She didn’t tie it well enough because there it goes! Dinner and a show---who’s better than me? His mouth salivated at the sight of her jiggling belly and swaying hips more so than the charcuterie plate he ordered.

A long night ahead, I think. Perhaps I should give into my less than gentlemanly tendencies more often…

[myreia]

Sketches of Times Lost

Day 30: Two Heads Are Better Than One

two dark knights, two reckless fools, and a fight on a bridge. sidurgu x wol (pre-relationship). heavensward. written for ffxivwrite2024. rated: mature tags: combat violence 2795 words ao3 link

Falling snow whispers about him, blown upon a gust of wind.  

The grey skies grow dark—too dark, alarmingly dark for the height of noon, the sun obscured by thick clouds. The air is choked with snow as assuredly as the depths of Sohm Al are choked with ash, blotting out the trees and nearby hills until nothing remains but the colossal iron bridge ahead. The blizzard has been growing for some time, and it is only going to get worse.

Fine by him. It’s preferable, come to think of it.

Sidurgu hefts his greatsword, the weight bearing down upon his shoulders. This isn’t so bad, as far as endings go. A standoff on a lonely bridge, far away from the prying, curious, judging eyes of the Ishgardian masses. And at least Rielle will not be here to see. She won’t be here to know. Gods willing she won’t know for a while. It would break what little is left of his glass heart.

The duo wait for him at the crest of the bridge, blocking the way forward. One bears a weapon and shield, the other a lance, and both are armoured in slick black armour that puts even the Temple Knights’ to shame. Their cloaks billow behind them in the wind, whipping back and forth from their shoulders. Their helmets—dark as their armour—glint in the bridge’s dim lamplight, guarding their faces. Their identities will remain unknown. This is their way, after all.

He may not know the faces of those who will grant him death, but he knows their reputation. Fearsome, brutal, far beyond the repute of even the most ferocious adventurers of Eorzea or the most ruthless Doman shinobi. They are not adventurers for hire, they are mercenaries. Assassins for hire. The kind that are not paid to have it be done silently, but to make an example. The kind that do not even have a name, only whispers in the dark.  

There is only one person who would stoop to hiring them. They do not need to wear Ystride de Caulignont’s livery for him to see her influence.

Sidurgu grimaces, his mouth aching from the cold. He can feel it in his teeth, his jaw, in his very bones. It ripples over his scales, turning him colder still. But he has no choice but to plow onward, pushing against the wind, each step carrying him closer to his doom.

“And so you’ve arrived, blackguard,” the paladin calls, his booming voice echoing across the bridge. Not a paladin. No honest paladin would swear the reviled oaths he has. “Have you at last accepted your fate?”

Sidurgu says nothing. He slows to a halt, a gauntleted hand flexing around the hilt of his sword, but does not lower it yet. “I’ve accepted that I’ve grown tired of being tailed and hunted like some common wyrm,” he replies after a moment. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”

The dragoon laughs, her voice high and cold, not unlike the wind. “Perhaps you are little more than a common wyrm,” she says, venom oozing from her words. “You have the horns and tail to match.”

The insult means nothing coming from her. It is, after all, the least offenses when she plans to take his head and deliver it to the Countess. He regards her silently, biding his time, observing the pair, searching for their weaknesses. He hates that he has fallen for this, this measly fucking asinine attempt at a trap. There was nothing clever about it. They simply hounded him for months, no matter where he took Rielle, goading and goading until he had no choice to but to be lured into their ruse.

He’s become unguarded since losing Fray. Unbalanced, growing stupider with each passing week. Questioning his own decisions so thoroughly at each and every turn that he has become all but paralyzed. If it weren’t for Aureia, he and Rielle would have likely stayed put by that hearth in the Forgotten Knight until he, too, was put to the sword in the same sham of a trial.

He will still be put to the sword. But at least this is his choice.

Sidurgu lower his blade, shifting its great weight off his shoulders, and plunges the tip into the snow. “Enough talk!” he shouts, his voice low and guttural. “I grow tired of this dance—”

The dragoon flies at him, her lance glinting in the storm’s grey light.  

He curses, unprepared, and slams his greatsword forward. She strikes, grunting on impact, the spearhead glancing off the bulk of the blade. He turns, snow churning about his feet, the blade swinging in a great, heavy arc towards her head. But she is too nimble, too quick. High-pitched laughter reverberates unpleasantly down his horns. By the time his blade descends, she is already gone, leaping away with agility attributed to the Azure Dragoon, and disappears into the sky.

A split second later, the paladin crashes into him.

The shield takes him by surprise, its edge glancing off his jaw with such force he bites his tongue and sees stars. He stumbles, his movements dragged down by the snow. Another clang makes his head ring, his armour reverberating as the paladin’s weapon glances off his chest. His vision blurs, his head heavy, the single thought he can scrape out of the clouded mess wondering why in the bloody hells he struck there when there are plenty of weak points between the pieces.

Bloody hells, Sid. You still want to die that badly, huh? Perhaps we should have traded places when we had a chance.    

Fray’s voice—or the ghost of it—murmurs in his mind. A figment of his imagination, conjured by his final moments. Or perhaps he is finally losing his mind.

A shadow moves in the corner of his eye and he turns, sidestepping the second blow at the last second. Something heavy clips him in the side, throwing him off balance. Too late he realizes that the paladin is armed not with a sword, but with a mace. The intention is all too clear.

The third blow sends a clanging din echoing through his skull.

He crumples.

Sidurgu lies flat on his back, blinking dully at the falling snow as it scatters across his face. Light and fluffy and thick—and blissfully snow. It would almost be pretty, if under other circumstances. His greatsword stands upright by his side, its blade pointed down, buried in the ice-crusted snow. Somewhere beyond him, he sees the shadow of the paladin approaching, deadly mace aloft. It won’t take long to crush his cuirass. Smash his chest. Break his bones and ram his ribcage into the frail obsidian piece of shit he calls a heart.

All those times I saved your life when you pushed yourself too hard. Mended broken bones, sewed you back together. Are you truly going to put my conjury to waste like this?  

“…shut up,” he rasps, his throat thick.

He has to praise their efficiency. Distract him with the dragoon and her extravagant aerial attacks, give the paladin time to move in for the kill. It was never going to be a fair fight.

Who said anything about fair? You know what isn’t fair? Dying out here alone. Leaving Rielle to wonder what happened to her last guardian. Letting her question whether it was her who pushed you away. I didn’t have a choice in my death, but you do in yours. So why choose this?  

“…shut up,” he hisses.

The mace glints, rising high in the air.

Snow dusts his face, clinging to his lashes.

Why this, Sidurgu? Why this?  

The mace falls.

Blood bursts across his face, bright and hot and scalding. He grunts, the shock of it jolting him out of his paralyzed reverie, and he drags himself up, half-kneeling in the snow.

Aureia stands above him, greatsword in hand, blood splattered across the blade. Snow peppers her short, dark hair, and she tilts her head, oblivious to the roaring wind, and scans the sky with her hawklike red eyes. She’s dressed in her customary leathers, armour better suited for a mage than a dark knight. The scent of abyssal magic clings to her, a red and purple haze misting coursing between her hands, growing with intensity.

“Get up,” she growls. “Sid, get up.”

He groans and reaches for his blade, using the grip to help him to his feet. A quick look tells him all he needs to know. The paladin was dispatched in a single blow. His severed head lies some fulms away at the end of a trail of red, still encased in its helmet. “The dragoon’s still out there,” he says, turning his face to the sky.

“I know. I saw her flitting about on my way here.” She hefts her blade, her gaze darkening. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on, or should I call you a fool and we can call it a day?”

A muscle twitches in his jaw. The desire to laugh is difficult to quell. “No one knows how much of a bloody fool I’ve been more than I,” he says. “Where’s Rielle?”

“Safe.” Her answer is short and sharp. “I’m not dragging her into this.”

“Safe where?” 

“I—”

The wind whistles.

Sidurgu leaps in front of her, drawing on all the force he can muster, and shimmering shield expands around them as the dragoon drops from the sky. Her lance strikes the shield ilms from Aureia’s head and she bounces off, landing lithely on the ground. She skids backwards through the snow, her eyes gleaming with malice.

“Bitch,” she hisses, spitting on the ground. “You’ll pay for your interference—”

Aureia snarls and leaps in the air, a rune forming about her fingers. Unaspected magic surges out from her palm and hits the dragoon in the face, knocking her helmet off and pushing her backward. She stumbles to a halt, feet skidding through the snow, and raises a hand to her mouth, wiping blood from a split lip. She observes the two with ice-cold eyes, her blonde hair streaming in the wind, her lance held deftly at her side. Despite being unmasked, there is nothing recognizable about her face. Her features are painfully commonplace, nondescript. She could be one in a hundred Elezen women to grace Ishgard’s streets or to fight in the ranks of the Temple Knights.

“Dark knights. Such a pain.” She spits on the ground and raises her lance. “Tell me, Sidurgu. Is this the game we play now? Shall I take the head of your companion since she took mine?”

He scowls and sinks into a defensive stance, a burst of magic burning in his heart, ready to be unleashed. “I said earlier,” he growls. “Enough talk. If you had any wits, you would flee.”

“I have a contract to fulfill. And now I am the only one to collect it.”

“You’re mad.” He raises his blade. “Only someone mad would continue to fight after witnessing their partner’s death.”

“You witnessed yours, and you’re still here. Fighting alongside his replacement.” She cocks her head, her lip curling. “His corpse wasn’t even cold. Do you prefer her over him? Like her tits and ass that much you’d move on without a second thought?”

The words cut deep. Whether they are her words or the words of the voice in his head, he doesn’t know. He roars and charges, the blade swinging wide. The dragoon laughs and leaps backward, arcing gracefully through the air. Aureia curses, her reprove lost in the wind, even as their opponent twists and turns and rebounds upon them.

The deadly end of her lance shimmers in the air.

Aureia yells and rushes forward, slipping on the trodden snow, a shield forming between her fingers.

Too late. The lance rams into her, impaling her through the side. She chokes, blood bursting from her lips, and collapses into the snow. The dragoon raises her head, eyes shining with triumph—

He slashes, his blade cloaked with night.

Her body topples headless to the blood-stained snow.

Sidurgu curses and trudges through the snow, boots slipping on blood and melting slush. When he reaches Aureia’s side, he finds her curled in pain, teeth gritted as she wraps her fingers around the lance.

“Leave it,” he says, sinking to his knees, uncertain of what he is saying. “Leave it be.”

Her eyes narrow. “What are you talking about?”

“Fucking damn it, you’re supposed to leave things like that. For the chirurgeons. Pull it out without a healer’s aid and you’ll bleed to death.”

“I’m not going to bleed to death. Or at least I’m not planning on it.”

“From my perspective, looks like you are.” He curses again and wipes blood from his face. The wind howls, blowing another gust of snow over them. He exhales a long breath and casts an eye around their surroundings, seeing nothing but snow and ice and the edge of the colossal bridge. “Where’s your damn chocobo? Surely it can take you back to Falcon’s Nest—”

“I sent Filo back.” She cries out, her breath laboured, sweat forming on her brow. “Fucking mistake, but here we are. You have to help me with this.”

“I’m not a conjurer.”

“I know.”

“If Rielle were here—”

“Good that she’s not. Don’t need her seeing what fools we’ve been, worrying her sick.” Aureia catches his eye and extends a hand. “Please. I’ll tell you what to do. I’m not going to bleed out, I promise.”

She’s been promising him a lot of things recently. Too much, if he’s honest. “You’re no conjurer either,” he remarks darkly.

“I know. But I know enough… I think.” She takes his hand and places it against the lance’s haft. “I’m a black mage, Sid. I can close my wounds, cauterize them with fire. It should hold long enough… Until I can teleport us out of here.”

He looks at her, crumpled in the red and trodden snow. This fierce, daring warrior who is a force to be reckoned with. He should have told her what was at stake. Of course she found out. Of course she came for him anyway. She’s as foolish as he is, and perhaps they are both better for it.

Sidurgu grips the lance. “What do you need me to do?” he asks.

She tells him, her orders strict and brisk, wasting no time. He asks her again, his heart clenching as she gives the clarification he needs, shoving down the horror of what she is about to do.

Once she is ready, it is over in a heartbeat.

She screams as he pulls the lance from her side, blood oozing from the wound, soaking her clothes. But she wastes no time, her eyes burning bright, white-ringed flame bursting from her fingers. It laces the wound, burning, burning, burning, and she squeezes her eyes shut, jaw clenched with pain.

He sits with her, his hand in hers, allowing her to lean against him as her spell does its work. He has never felt so helpless, holding her like this, unable to do anything but wait. Fray was the conjurer among them, whereas he simply… fought. A blade. A shield. Much like Aureia. He has never given much thought to what happens when the shield breaks.

Fire is destructive, this he knows. But he suspects—judging from the way it washes over her—she may have found a way to infuse it with light, drawing on her own aether to heal herself. Or perhaps something akin to that. He wouldn’t know, this isn’t his domain. But Fray would have.

And then it is done. She lies there, collapsed against him, her breath shallow but strong.

“Are you… how do you…” He clears his throat. “Are you all right?”

“I’ll live.” She groans and pushes herself up, using her blade for support as she rises on unsteady feet. “Thanks.”

“Aureia, I…” Should he thank her in return? It was her intervention that saved his life. And yet he can’t quite bring himself to say it. “We should go. When you’re ready. Let’s not linger.”

She nods, the wind rustling her hair as she surveys the massacre upon the bridge. With enough snowfall, the bodies of their enemies will soon be covered, frozen in ice until the next thaw. The ghoulish part of his mind wonders whether there is a reward for dispatching them, but he would rather not tangle with the Temple Knights to find out. Besides, Ystride will know they failed soon enough. Better not hurry that event.  

Finally, Aureia stretches out a hand, taking his in turn. One breath, another, and then they vanish together.

[theintrovertbean]

Remember when I posted this? This is what I meant when I said I was writing something about high heels.

Summary: Nadia has beautiful legs and y/n wholeheartedly agrees.

This isn't smut, but there's some naughtiness implied. So, just to be safe, minors DNI.

Linguistics classes are boring, so I spend them writing about Nadia instead 🤗 That's just what I do, write adult content when I should be paying attention to my seminars. I will keep doing it.

I wrote like half of this at uni instead of listening to whatever the fuck that class was, and my friend sitting next to me was like o.o when they looked at my phone. But the bitch is back (no, not really, I'm just blessing you with a crumb of content before I retreat to my hiding again.) Anyway, I thought I'd give myself a break and write for the sake of writing about something that doesn't give me anxiety, and what's better than Nadia's legs to ease my stress? Damn, that rhymes. Don't mind my little vent, idk why I'm even writing this but it's almost 3 am and I no longer care.

Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it. Have a good one, simps!

Heeled Seduction (Nadia x Reader)

She's a strong, smart woman. She can take care of herself and she doesn't need help. But when I watch her undress and then put on her extravagant gown for the upcoming event, I can't help but notice her high heels waiting for her to put them on. I remind myself that no, she does not need help with something so trivial, but the more I entertain the thought, the more tempting it becomes.

She sits down on a plush chair and pushes a stray piece of hair behind her ear. My heart melts at the sight of her, but if I want to do this, then this is my chance.

"Nadia," I call out her name. It comes naturally to me at this point as she's had me cry out her name in pleasure countless times.

She looks at me with curiosity in her intense gaze. "Yes, love?"

I don't answer. I simply walk toward her and then lower myself onto one knee in front of her. My Countess raises an eyebrow, the corners of her lips curling up into one of those cheeky smiles that I love so much. She watches me with interest, awaiting my next move.

I gently lift her foot and guide it into the shoe, my fingers brushing against her delicate skin and I can feel her shiver beneath my touch. Having such an effect on the embodiment of perfection, on a goddess like her, fills me with pride.

"Oh my," She begins with a smile. "How attentive of you, my darling. Allow me to assist you."

Then she grabs a fistful of her dress, slowly, teasingly lifting it higher to give me better access. She reveals her strong thigh, only to my eyes, and I have to gulp. Inch by inch, she tortures me with her beauty. I'm quite certain she knows that she doesn't have to lift it so high. My sweet, loving Nadia—always teasing me at every chance she gets.

Encouraged by her seduction, I put my hand on her other leg, fingers caressing and massaging her strong calf gently. "Have I ever told you," I lean forward, pressing a kiss onto her skin right under her knee. "how beautiful your legs are?"

"Hm, I don't think you have," My Countess answers, the tone of her voice warm and low and the smile on her face playful but loving. "Why don't you elaborate?"

"Well, your skin is so soft here," I say and lift her leg, putting it over my shoulder. "I love how it feels against my mouth. So delicate and smooth." When I brush my lips against her thigh and my breath caresses her, I can see her clutching the armrest just a little tighter. "But your legs are also very strong." I rest my hand on the side of her thigh, drawing circles into it with my thumb. "Perfect for..." I drag my lips across her skin, going higher and higher until I can feel the heat radiating from her core. "Smothering."

My love chuckles and I look up to see her cheeks colored with a blush. "Aah, yes, they'd look so beautiful around your head."

"They certainly would," I smirk against her inner thigh and I'm certain she wants nothing more than for me to continue. "But!" I exclaim and put her leg down, shifting my body away from hers. "We have a party to attend. The rest can wait."

I swear I can hear her mutter a small damn you, y/n under her breath while I quickly put on her other high heel. When I finish, I immediately feel her fingers grasping my chin, guiding me to look up at her. "When it is done, I hope you intend to use that teasing, wicked mouth of yours for something more pleasurable," She whispers to me, and I can already feel my cheeks burning under her gaze. Here, at the feet of my mistress, my countess, my love, I feel a sense of belonging.

"If that's what milady wishes."

[emmaofnormandy]

The Dragon and the Rose.

• In this universe, Lady Kathryn Howard crosses path with King Aegon II. The result of it may be more surprising than what onlookers have judged at first…

Long post; fluffy.

"You need a wife", the Dowager Queen of Westeros tells his son. "As a king, specially given the current circumnstances, you need to produce an heir. Such a deed cannot be done by yourself, as you must know.”

Aegon rolls his eyes at his mother’s words. Despite his reluctance to get himself crowned as the overlord of the seven kingdoms, here he is now, urged to get married. And he cannot take his sister as his wife as former Targaryens did because she simply eloped with Aemond.

Not that I needed her anyway.

Besides, Aegon believes he can have any woman he desires. Why marrying one alone? When he makes this point to his mother, Queen Alicent takes a very deep breath as if she is beseeching her patience in Heaven before saying:

“We need allies, you fool. And a legitimate heir.” She says between gritted teeth. “If you are not looking for one, I will. Should I explain the basics to you? If you don’t have legitimate heirs, Rhaenyra’s sons will rule after you. Is that what you want?”

That has her son’s attention. Good. Alicent softens and smiles.

“You can choose any noblewoman you like as long as it’s a highborn damsel appropriate for the rule of a consort.”

“Very well”, Aegon sighs. “I will do my best, my lady mother.”

Yet, where should he begin? Perhaps Aegon should ask the aid of his siblings for that task. As he summons Aemond back to court, Aegon does not need a very long time to tell the reason why he needs his younger brother’s help.

“Ah right. A wife, a queen. I’ll pity the woman who might get all the praises but your attention when she sits in the place once occupied by our mother.”

“If I needed your disdain, Aemond, believe me… I would rather you to stay with Helaena wherever the fuck you have been.”

“Watch your tongue, Your Grace”, Aemond smirks. “Very well. I’ve been traveling for a while and if no Westerosi ladies get your attention, I can give you other suggestions.”

Aegon’s eyebrows are epically raised.

“Oh?”

And so he is told of England and its own noble houses, one of which has been friendly towards Aemond and Helaena in their journey to the west: the Howards.

***

Katherine never before felt so uncomfortable as when she was at the court of King Henry. Specially when she’s getting his unwelcome flatteries.

King he is, but he could be my father. Worse, he is not handsome at all. Why cannot he be content with his wife? Poor lady Anne does not deserve this treatment.

However, her uncle seems pleased with the idea of rising high in the court sphere once again. Whilst Thomas Howard contemplates a form to separate the king from his wife by joining him to his niece, his brother, Edmund Howard, is not sharing his enthusiasm.

In fact, without Katherine’s knowledge, her father has been entertaining other ideas. Having received Lord Aemond and his wife, lady Helaena, there had been conversations concerning a possible betrothal to Aegon Targaryen and his daughter. Eventually, though, Edmund becomes anxious to remove Katherine out of court.

“What?”, Katherine is talking with her first cousin, the countess of Richmond. “What are you talking about? Why would my father ask me to leave? You are lying.”

Lady Mary Howard sighs.

“Just read this envelope here. I’m sure you can read, can you not, cousin?”

Katherine blushes at the sharp tongue of the other woman, but takes the letter and opens it without giving an answer. As she reads the content, she is partly relieved for leaving—she’d been feeling like a fox about to become the prey of a dangerous predator with no chance to escape. On the other hand, she is somewhat preoccupied about how this will be handled.

“How familiar are you with this plan, cousin?”, inquires Katheryn, suspicious about the veracity of it.

Lady Mary shrugs her shoulders in a nonchalant posture, although her eyes give an otherwise meaning.

“Familiar enough to help you escape the hands of the tyrant. I am helping you because I’ve been there too, although he ensured to deprive me of the presence of my beloved”, she explains in between gritted teeth.

Lady Mary was referring to the days she’d been married to Henry FitzRoy, King Henry’s favoured son, albeit illegitimate. But due to the monarch’s paranoia, they never made to consummate their love for each other and what happened next was her widowhood.

Katheryn understands well her sentiments and appreciates that amongst her family members there was at least one relative she could trust. The relief is evident in her features which softens her cousin’s pride mask.

“You deserve better, cousin.”

And so the new journey to Katheryn Howard’s life begins.

***

As the feast begins, Aegon is nowhere to be found, much to his mother’s dismay. The unpleasant task to find him falls upon Ser Criston Cole’s dutifulness since Aemond has been too busy with his wife to remind Aegon of his regal duties.

“Bring him to us as soon as possible. We have been told the lady is arriving anytime now. Aegon must be here to receive her”, so the dowager queen points out as-a-matter-of-fact.

It takes little time for Ser Criston to find the king. He is in his bed, taking his time to let the hangover state out of himself.

“Your Grace”, says the knight. “Do you intend to spend the rest of the day in your bed whilst the Seven Kingdoms await your good will in ensuring its rule goes as expected?”

Aegon sighs heavily. His hair is a mess, his eyes are only half open, in a state that only irritates the knight. But before the king is lectured about his misconduct, Aegon decides to take leave of his bed.

“You may spare your breath”, says the silver haired prince. “I am doing what is expected of me today.”

Ser Criston raises an eyebrow all the whilst folding his arms, in a posture that clearly disbelieves the other’s words.

“I mean it. I am perfectly aware that very few have some faith in me”, he says grudgingly.

As if to prove him right of surprising everyone, Aegon cleans himself and dresses in his mother’s colors. Although unwillingly, he knows there is a role to play. And this is the day he ought to do things in a different way.

The moment he arrives to the grand hall is the same moment where his soon to be wife arrives too. His mother, Dowager Queen Alicent, is relieved and ensuring nothing goes wrong.

But when the doors open, destiny plays the card that will change everything.

***

It is a beautiful court, so Katheryn judges as her eyes capture the shades of dark green that somehow mixes with red and black, although it could be more colorful.

She is very impressed, though. The Red Keep is all about grandiosity, reinforced by the regality in the decoration, joined by the beautiful landscape that has been running through her eyes during her journey from London.

But nothing impacted her more than seeing the shadow of grand beasts, flying across the skies and howling through the air. Katheryn once read about them… Dragons, that’s what they were named. They were the symbol of the Tudor dynasty, the same one her beloved uncle sought to marry her into.

The prestige is not worth it, I know it in me.

Nevertheless, she wanted a good marriage for herself, being the noble lady she is. So her father sent her to be the wife of another king, whom he assured to be more gentle and closer to her in age than Henry Tudor.

Now that she is walking into the Red Keep surrounded by her retinue and her eyes are glued upon the regal figure that stands tall, Katheryn finds herself amazed.

As Aegon slowly comes to greet her, both seem to be oblivious to the anxious parts that seem to be eager to join them in sacred ceremony. They too ignore the pair of eyes that follow them curiously.

They only seem to notice each other. Whilst Katheryn is, admittedly, baffled by his Valyrian features, so is Aegon by her English inheritance. Never before had he met dark, astonishing and deep eyes staring so intently into his lilac ones.

“My lady Howard”, Aegon is the one who breaks the ice by greeting her with a proper bow. “Welcome to King’s Landing. I pray your journey has not been uncomfortable for your ladyship.”

A weak blush paints her pale cheeks as she curtseys in return.

“Your Majesty, I appreciate the kindness you display towards me. Indeed the journey has been good, thank you.”

“That is fantastic to hear”, says Aegon, unable to refrain his growing smile. Then gallantly he extends his hand to her and Katheryn promptly takes it.

It is as if the world breathes in relief when the Westerosi king is delighted at his foreigner queen-to-be. To some as the former queen of the realm, though, there is still much to wait for the unpredictable Aegon.

But even the lady Alicent is forced to admit that prospectives are positive so far.

“What are your impressions of this land you’ve set foot? In all honesty, I’ve never encountered a foreigner lady like yourself before”, says the charmed king.

Kathryn smiles, pleasantly blushed to get his attention. Indeed, Aegon’s handsomeness, gallantries and youth count positive for this alliance favoured by her father against her uncle’s ambitions in rising another of his family to occupy King Henry’s vacant side.

Even before these impressions, Kathryn is no fool. She spent enough time at the court of the old king to know that appearances can be misleading—and deadly.

This conversation is the start of something new for both parts involved… and more so when considering a new world beyond the seven kingdoms of Westeros.

For King Aegon, however, this marriage is politically fruitful: not sooner and his reign will be acknowledged before his fellow kings out of Westeros.

Yet… when looking at Lady Katherine, these dark eyes and darker hair make him forget of the true purpose of this union. Each time she smiles, Aegon realizes that maybe now… he wants more than casual flings.

***

As controversial as the wheel of fortune might be, Lady Katherine occupies the higher ground without fearing for her life. Henry Tudor is no more the reasons of her concern nor disgusts, the mere thought of him is now turned to dust.

She is queen herself… of a distant realm, where she has a husband to please and duties to attend without the fear of reprehension of her uncle Thomas Howard, even though Aegon’s grandsire, Otto Hightower, has the same likes—somewhat irksome to her.

What does it matter? I am the queen now.

In these festivities, Kathryn enjoys the attentions of her handsome husband, with whom she comes to discover there is so much they share in common.

“As soon as we can, I’ll take you to a ride. Have you ever been to a dragon’s back before?”

“I do not think husband”, she says, savouring the taste this new word brings, with a gentle smirk, “that I have ever even seen one.”

It is inconceivable to Aegon that there is a world out there where dragons are not part of it. Thus as his wife tells him about her origins, all she’d known about these flying creatures are stories, legends, myths, his bafflement only increases.

“I shall bring you to Sunfyre by tomorrow dawn”, he vows to her, very serious in keeping his promise when locking their hands tied.

In this crowded room, every sound dies before this new level of intimacy just recently disclosed. When Aegon looks at Kathryn, she knows he sees her for who she is.

Not just her beauty. But who she really is underneath all of this pomp she likes to exhibit in a form to conceal her sensibility and all of her dreams that her family despised and she had no other choice but to hide.

One gaze is enough. No more words are enough. Silence already speaks for itself.

*

“You fancy her”, observes Lord Aemond when he occupies the vacant place left by Lady Kathryn. By his brother’s side, their eyes follow the brunette’s moves, captured by the vivacity in her gracious steps as she dances.

“Could it be otherwise?”

“When mother at first suggested you to wed Helaena, you despised her.”

“Suggested?”, Aegon snorts at his younger brother. “That is kind of you. Well, Laena and I never saw eye to eye, which worked out for you just fine if I recall well.”

Aemond gives the eldest of the two a smirk.

“Indeed, though what I wanted to say is that you can be…”

“Imprudent?”

“I’d prefer to say careless”, says he. “Whereas the lady Kathryn is a blossom rose.”

Aegon’s eyes go to the woman the High Sparrow crowned, the brunette of a foreigner land he espoused. So much joy in her figure, the gentleness evident in her countenance, reinforcing a beauty that brings her the attention.

“I am not a man who shares”, says the king, subtly, giving more in these words than his pride would bend to admit.

Aemond takes the glass to his lips, pleased for the result of his match.

“I know how well you like to keep your prizes to yourself.”

And nothing further has been discussed about it.

***

“Lady, today you will experiment few out of our family has ever had”, so boasts Aegon, proudly. He likes the eyes of his wife on him, carrying a new genuine admiration he’s never found on the eyes of another.

“And what is that, husband?”, she asks, excited and intrigued.

They are out of the Red Keep this day. Though it’s not cloudy, it’s a little windy, but perfect condition to fly. Kathryn is frightened, though she struggles to conceal it, before the sight of large beasts that howl through the air and are not mythological.

“I appreciate your efforts in playing the brave, my dear”, Aegon smiles at her, bringing her closer to him. “But no need to fear. Come, let us make these new memories together.”

Kathryn is thus taken to Sunfyre, whose large yellow wings and its golden eyes impact the new queen. She blinks a few times, frozen before this encounter, but does not shy away of it.

As Sunfyre bows to her, she smiles gracefully, taking the hand Aegon extends her. The next thing she knows is adventurously wordless.

“I’ve never taken anyone to fly so high”, he whispers in her ear, pleased to see her blushing as his arms snake around her waist. “Do you want to command Sunfyre? Go on. I know you can do it.”

Kathryn gazes at her husband with a mix of surprise and atonement. Never before she was consulted in anything of the kind; her views and tastes were often disregarded as a matter of little importance.

Underneath titles two lost souls are found in a surprising alliance that is turning positively healing for both parts.

The moment she smiles, Aegon knows there is chance for redemption…. And he’s prompted to take it.

***

• Epilogue.

According to the unofficial and unnamed chronicler of Aegon’s court, the king and the queen had a very successful marriage. This gleeful union, which seems to have cast a shadow over the king’s questionable past by designing a better future, has resulted in the following children:

1. Jaehaerys, Prince of Dragonstone.

2. Elysbeth, Princess of Dragonstone, who married her oldest brother, following the Targaryen tradition.

3. Eddmund, named after the queen’s father, chose to become a Maester.

4. Alysanne, Princess of Dorne.

5. A stillborn child.

6. Daeron, who took the oath of becoming part of the King’s Guard.

7. Aemon, his twin brother, who, in due time, moved to Dragonstone and there resided with Lady Rhaella Targaryen, a cousin.

8. Laena Targaryen, who became Lady of High Garden.

It’s said that the Queen suffered with poor health after giving birth to Lady Laena. However, she managed to have a long and happy life by Aegon’s side. So then peace reigned…

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 5

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, hurt, PTSD, violence, mentally unstable Soldier Boy, anger issues, Soldier Boy hates everyone, Countess is a bitch

Word Count: 3032

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

Present, 2022

Butcher grinned and added, “Lift your asses up, boys. We're heading to Russia. Let's see what's being hidden there that could kill.. Cuntlander.”

Butcher had been looking for any other way to terminate Homelander and was working hard to get the chance to succeed. Butcher's past was clear after everything that transpired with Stormfront, but he didn't like the quiet. He still had unfinished business with Homelander. He was willing to take a chance and find a way out, but he wasn't sure if his plan would work out well. He would fuck around and find out.

It wasn't challenging to enter the Russian basement with Temp V on his body and the boys around. When they stood near the well-guarded metal object that concealed the potential end of Homeland, they took extreme caution. They all were aware of that was their final shot. Butcher didn’t know what could he done more to end Homelander.

Kimiko and Frenchie retreated a step as Butcher approached and removed the metal object's door with ease. Frenchie's gun-wielding fingers clenched, and Kimiko attempted to peek inside the box. As the strong smoke began to reduce, MM's eyes grew wide with horror, his heart paced with distress. Butcher leaned forward and muttered, “Soldier Boy.”

Ben removed the handcuffs and the object from his face with ease as his senses began to awaken. His legs felt like jelly, and he was holding on to the metal object he was in. He couldn’t see a shit at first; everything was blurry as fuck. When he began to realize the real gravity of what was happening, he understood that he was completely naked. He was being watched intently by a few people around him. He blinked in confusion, sensing immense power beneath his chest. His muscles began to tense with fury.

“It’s okay,” one of them said with a calm voice.

That fucking calm voice, Ben thought. It was the same tone as the fucking scientists who tortured and poisioned him for years, like they were studying a fucking little rat. They were all going to pay for what they did to him.

Ben experienced an immediate increase in warmth and energy in his chest. As he exploded, he let out a painful shout and felt a wave of relief afterwards. Fuck, he thought. What the fuck was that? What they have done to him? He was aware that he had to leave the region as soon as possible. He needed to get out from the lab as quickly as he could before they caught them again.

Ben then remembered you. He was informed that Vought had punished you for treason by shipping you to Russia in a metal box where you would be subjected to the same smoke that he had breathed for decades. You were nowhere to be found, even though he tried his hardest to locate and rescue you. When he realized that fucking Crimson Countess had betrayed him, it was too fucking late. She would be the first to die.

He would track them down and rip their limbs off for their betrayal. Stan Edgar would be the fucking second among them, if he was still alive. He had to find you first, though. He didn’t know what exactly happened to you. He didn’t want to think the possiblity of your betrayal. Ben had done unforgottable things to you, hurt your heart pretty bad, after all. He wouldn’t be surprised.

Ben stuck into an airport after he stole some clothes and illegally boarded a passenger plane bound for America, New York. It was the city that he had known you had been last time he remembered. However, he got confused seeing huge buildings and crowd. The city was nothing like he remembered at all; there was huge screen around, everywhere. Ben paused for a moment and thought what he should do. Everything he knew had changed and he didn’t feel like fit in there.

A nearby location played Russian music on the radio that Ben heard as he wandered down Manhattan's street. He recalled all of the torture and shit he had endured over the years. Back in Russia, he experienced the same overwhelming sensation in his chest. He struggled to control this new power without drawing attention to himself or doing any harm, but the terrible memories overpowered him so much that he was unable to control it and let out a loud groan as he exploded.

“Oh fuck,” Ben whispered when he opened his eyes. Maybe he needed to find Legend first to make a start somewhere before he exploded the whole country. Fuck, he needed you.

Butcher and MM were too late when they arrived in New York, where Soldier Boy exploded. Their eyes widened with shock, seeing the entire building burn out. There were at least ten corpses around the building. It was a big fucking mess. Butcher’s chest overwhelmed with remorse. He was the one to free Soldier Boy after all. But there were no place for soft heart at that moment.

“Where could he have fucking gone?” Butcher murmered as he wandered around, overwhelmed by the chaos in the street and hearing cryings. He wasn’t sure at this point if Soldier Boy was really controllable or not.

“Who else lives in this city?” MM said, raising his eyebrows. “Think about it.”

Butcher’s eyes widened with excitement, and he said, “Legend.”

Legend was drinking his visky in joy when Butcher, MM, and Hughie knocked on his door out of the blue. He resisted letting them in after seeing Butcher among them, but he eventually gave up and invited them in.

“I swear on my kids,” Legend said, raising both hands up. “I haven’t seen Soldier Boy.”

“You hate your kids.”

“Well, you’d hate them too if they were your kids,” said Legend with an irritated voice.

“Fuck, stop being stubborn. Nothing will happen to you. I give you my word,” MM said, trying his best to convince him to talk. Butcher’s patience was also growing thin.

“Your word? He gave his word too once. I fucking lost my leg.” Legend snapped suddenly, showing off his prosthetic leg and waving it on the air.

“You’ll have to order another one if you keep talking like that old man,” said Butcher, getting up from his couch.

“Let’s calm down,” said Hughie. He got anxious because of the heat of the moment, but nobody gave a damn about him at all, so remained silent.

Legend sighed as he kept sipping his visky, and he murmered “I thought I'd seen a ghost. Fuck, he never aged a day, despite his long, odd beard. He just took his suit, nothing more.”

MM and Butcher exchanged a look.

“It seems like he demanded something,” Butcher stated, casting Legend a wary glance.

“Well, he requested the address of the Crimson Countess. I don't know, but he appeared quite furious. I don't expect to have an enjoyable visit.”

Ben learnt that Countess had been living in a trailer before he arrived. Thankfully, it was very easy to locate the bitch. His heart filled with anger seeing she lived her life while we was burn and tortured for decades. Before he entered the trailer, Ben had seen the same cocksucker back in Russia. His eyes narrowed in confusion. He had a very punchable face.

“You’re the same asshole in the lab,” Ben said with a questioning voice.

“Yeah. I am the asshole who let you out. Your lovey-dovey countess is inside the trailer. All yours. Consider it a good gesture of faith,” said Butcher giving him a sly glance.

“Good faith for what?” Ben asked in an arrogant voice, ignoring his little stupid comment about Countess. Ben didn’t even know that cocksucker, but he had a lot of things to do, and he didn’t have time for games. He couldn’t rely on anyone either.

“I was thinking, you and I might come to an arrangement, you know.”

Ben didn’t say a word as he walked by him and went inside the trailer.

“Ben?” Crimson called him with a shaky voice. Her hands were in chains, and she was looking at him with fear. The place she lived looked pathetic to his eyes. Ben’s heart was filled with immense hatred seeing her face after all those years. How could he even spend a minute with her? “You look so young.”

“You don’t.” Without letting her talk, he inhaled deeply and asked with a calm voice, “Why did you even sell me out? How much did Russians pay you?”

“I wasn’t paid,” Countess said, closing her eyes with shame and fear. She never thought this day would come.

“What?” Ben blinked his eyes in confusion.

“What did you thought would happen? Everyone hated you so fucking much,” she went on while she was looking at him with despise. “It wasn’t my idea, but I wish it was,” she said cruelly. Ben’s grip on his shield grew tighter as she spit hatred towards him.

You also warned him that Countess would be the first to betray him if he continued to behave as he used to. It felt like it had been a day ago when you had that talk, and it was painful to realize how correct you were. He bet you would die to see his face right now.

He didn’t care what she or others felt towards him at that moment, though.

“Where is Y/N?” he asked with a firm voice as he got closer.

With a sly smile, Crimson raised her eyebrows, saying, “How could I know this? But she’s most likely napping. Perhaps in China, perhaps in Russia, who knows.”

Every time she spoke, Ben's chest grew warmer, but he had to maintain his composure in order to get to know your location. “She was already off the team. What the fuck have they done to her? And Why?”

“If anything bad did happen to her, it was due to her own naivety,” Crimson snapped. “You were the only person they intended to capture, but they also wanted to ensure that no one would come to your rescue. She tried to save you, and that was a big mistake.”

With one quick motion, Ben grabbed her throat, his glowing chest continuing, he knew it was getting out of control, but he couldn’t stop it. “I asked you a fucking question, and you'll fucking answer me,” he repeated while still strangling her.

She was attempting desperately to free herself from his strong hold, but she remained helpless, his strenght was unmatchable. Ben continued to choke her and ask the same question, and she closed her eyes in misery.

“You’ll never know. You lost the only person who wanted to rescue you. Good luck with living with this,” Countess whispered with a weak voice. Not being able to control himself anymore, Ben exploded with an angry growl.

He walked out of the trailer with a heavy heart. He considered the awful experiences you may have had for decades because of him. Despite everything he had done to you, you still loved him and attempted to rescue him. However, all he gave you was pain and suffering. You may be in a container of metal or suffering from torture right now while he was free. Feeling his shield becoming heavier in his hands, he tried to process what was happening. He fucking had let you down. He has never felt so lost.

He didn't know where to look for you because he was unfamiliar with the modern world. Even if he was still the strongest supe, he didn't feel that way at that point in time. He knew he would never give up looking for you, even if he had no idea how to find you. There was nothing that could stop him.

Ben turned to face the cocksucker who had been following after his balls since yesterday after sensing that someone had been observing him.

“It seems that you require a place to stay, don't you? After all, you are currently the state's greatest enemy.” With an encouraging smile, Butcher added, “You need our help.” He was closely gauging Soldier Boy's facial reactions.

Ben nodded and followed him out to his car. Hughie and Butcher exchanged a look and both sighed with relief that Soldier Boy wasn't hostile or anything.

Ben was given a cheeseburger and anything he wanted, including cocaine, some pills, and a drink, by Butcher in the morning. Ben needed to be in business and in shape, and he needed his fucking energy back. 

Ben continued eating his hamburger and said, “So, what exactly in the world do you two fuckfaces fucking want from me?”

Hughie turned to face Soldier Boy's enormous shield and used all of his strength to try to raise it. It was so freaking heavy that even with his best efforts, he could not get it to move an inch.

Ben angrily commanded, “Hands of the fucking shield,” to which Hughie responded with a shy smile and a mumbled apology. 

“We will assist you in locating your former teammates who betrayed you,” Butcher stated bluntly as he settled into the seat. “so that you can take your revenge.”

Ben instantly dropped the hamburger and furrowed his brows in suspicion. “But how can you manage to track them down?”

With hesitation, Hughie walked up to Ben and smiled slightly, saying, “Internet, GPS, Google Maps—you can find anyone with those things.”

Ben’s heart paced with hope as the bottom-faced guy said strange words. They could find Crimson even before him, after all. Maybe finding you wouldn’t be so hard. He had no other choice after all.

“You made those words up,” Ben said, not sure if they were talking true shit or just trying to deceive him.

“Those words are real words.”

“The kid’s right,” Butcher said as he gave a sly smile to Ben. “We will find every single member of Payback, so you can have your revenge.”

“And what do you cocksuckers want in return?” Ben asked rudely.

“We just want you to add one single person to the list. The cunt’s name is ‘Homelander’”

“Alright,” Ben responded without raising any further concerns. He wouldn't bargain when it was your life he was talking about. He could easily kill one more jackass; he'd killed plenty already. “But who is he? I’ve seen his pictures.”

When Soldier Boy didn't even hesitate, Butcher and Hughie sighed with relief and were unable to control their big smiles.

“He’s the new you,” Butcher said with a smirk.

“No one’s the new me, pal,” Ben answered with pride and arrogance, but deep down, knowing he was betrayed by his own country and team, he couldn’t help feeling a bit insecure. Nevertheless, he surpassed his feelings with a smile.

So, that was it. His nation used him in every operation, every war, and anything that required a supe, but they treated him like a worthless piece of trash in return, repaying him with disloyalty. Despite everything he had done for his nation, he was ignored and treated like a rat in a lab. He realized at this point that you were the one person who had never betrayed him and that you were the only one who would care about him. He made a promise to himself that he would make everyone pay for how they treated him and you, and he would make sure you and him would rule this modern world together.

“Let me to test you. What functions does your so-called internet offer?” Ben asked Hughie seriously, changing the subject.

“Alright. It can display images, films from all eras. You can even see the space through Internet,” Hughie answered, attempting to seem straightforward and sound simple like he was talking to a child so as not to confuse him. “You can learn everything from it. Billions of people are having their job done through Internet.”

Fuck, Ben thought. How the fuck he was supposed to save you through Internet thing? He was so fucking unfamiliar with that bullshit.

“Is there a way to see a photo of a Payback member?” Ben got up and asked. The excitement in his voice was obvious. 

“Absolutely. You can even find more information about them on several websites.”

Soldier Boy was watching very carefully when Hughie asked him the name he was interested in, and Hughie then showed him your images, saying “Here.”

Ben quickly grabbed Hughie's phone and gazed at your photo with a heavy heart. Fuck, he thought to himself. Undoubtedly, the term ‘internet’ was real and it fucking knew everything. He felt helpless at that point, since he had missed you so much. To find you, he would kill anybody those fuckers needed him to.

“I need to find her,” Ben whispered, showing your picture to both of them right to their eyes like they were blind or something. “If you help me find her, I’ll help you two fuckers kill that guy, Homelander. That’s the fucking deal.”

Next Chapter

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

A/N: Consider this chapter as a filler chapter. Sorry, if it is bad. I kinda didn’t like it personally, but here we are. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! ♡♡♡

Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @xmariakx @spnfamily-j2 @suspicious-stain-in-spain @atomicsoulcollecto  @yvonneeeee @starryperson    @mfnqueen1 @chaand-sitara   @boywivlove   @stilinskisthings

Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series! -`♡´-

[tessa-liam]

Isle of Misfits 

Chapter 9 – Inconvenient Truths 

Fandom: TRR x Platinum x OH x CoP x TNA x ?

Series: Isle of Misfits, Round Robin 24, hosted by @choicesprompts 

Word Count:  1405

Characters: TRR – Liam Rys, Leo Rys, Olivia Nevrakis, Madeleine Amaranth 

                       RoE – Katie Rys 

                     �� TNA – Sam Dalton 

                       CoP – Trystan Thorne 

Warnings: M *(swearing, references to depression, alcohol abuse, suicide, infidelity) 

“Something’s burning…” 

Leo stopped short. The scent was subtle, but unmistakable. 

Smoke. 

Olivia and Leo exchanged worried glances, before darting down the corridor, following the faint acrid scent to its source. 

It didn't take them long to track down the fire, the smoke was now billowing out from beneath the door at the end of the hallway. 

Olivia pushed Leo back. "Get back! I'm calling the fire department!" 

"But—" 

"Just do as you're told, for once in your life!" the fiery redhead ordered, already stabbing at the numbers on her mobile phone. 

Leo's shoulders raised in defiance. But no sooner had he complied, than the door to the suite burst open, and a large plume of dark grey smoke billowed out. 

Coughing and spluttering, Sam Dalton, was waving the acrid haze out of his face. 

"Sam?" Leo exclaimed concernedly, stepping forward. "What the fuck, man.!?"

"I'm okay!" Sam assured him, trying to clear his throat. 

Olivia put her phone on hold, her eyes darting over the wayward billionaire, looking for any injuries. "Are you sure?" 

"Yeah, I'm sure..." Sam said, taking a few shaky steps into the corridor. 

Olivia's sharp eyes narrowed. "Are you drunk?" 

"No," Sam scoffed, before reconsidering his statement. "Well, a little. I may have had one or two shots." 

"Or a whole bottle," Olivia murmured, rolling her eyes. 

"I don't know about that..." Sam muttered, looking around himself in bemusement. "I was just trying to put together some food, and... well, next thing I know, there's a fire. Must have forgotten to turn off the hot plate." 

"Are you kidding me?" Leo exploded. "You nearly set the building on fire, just because you couldn't be bothered to make a sandwich?" 

"Yeah, yeah, I know..." Sam mumbled. "It was stupid." 

"I'll say!" there is a Michelin star chef here on the island, why are you even trying to cook?"

"It wasn't like I was trying to kill myself or anything," Sam grumbled, as he staggered off in the direction of his room. "I just couldn't remember if it was gas or electric. It's a common mistake." 

"No, it's a common sign of early dementia," Olivia retorted. 

"Nah," Sam scoffed, raising his middle finger and slammed his door shut.

The sound of an elevator sounded down the hall. Countess Madeleine Amaranth, a member of Liam's council and Leo's former betrothed, strode towards Leo and Olivia.

Madeleine's cold green eyes took in the smoke damage to the door. "What's going on here? The building is still standing, I see."

Liam had enlisted Madeleine to help reform Leo as a role model for royal decorum since she was a stickler for etiquette and was the queen of spin. True to his promise.

"It's called karma, you idiot," Olivia muttered back, folding her arms and smirking. 

"Oh, what fresh hell is this?" Leo growled.

"Ah, Madeleine," Leo greeted her, turning on the charm. 

"Leo," Madeleine acknowledged coolly. 

"What brings you here, on this fine evening?" Leo asked.

"Liam has requested my assistance. Apparently, you need remedial lessons in proper manners." 

"Remedial...?" 

"Yes. We have already seen that you cannot handle an engagement," she says, glancing at Olivia, who glared back, "or a marriage, or a mistress, or even a simple friendship..." 

"You're not seriously still mad about that, are you?" Leo exclaimed. 

"About being publicly embarrassed, or humiliated? Oh, no. That is water under the bridge," she mocked. "However, Liam has asked me to tutor you in proper decorum. So, if you are finished with your tantrum, perhaps we can begin?" 

Leo's jaw tightened. 

"Well, I think we've got things sorted here," Olivia said, laying a hand on Leo's arm. "If you'll excuse me, Maddy." 

Madeleine's eyes narrowed. "You're not going anywhere. You are to meet with Trystan Thorne. I'm sure he'll find that your presence will be beneficial during his sessions." 

"What? You're not my superior." Olivia objected, glaring at the tall blonde. 

"I am if Liam says so," Madeleine shot back. 

Leo's shoulders raised as Olivia's grip tightened painfully. 

"Now, if you don't mind," Madeleine continued imperiously. "I need to have a chat with my wayward student." 

"Your wayward—!" 

"Ow!" cried Leo, wincing. "You're going to leave a bruise, Livvie..." 

"That's the plan!" Olivia retorted, digging her fingers into his bicep. 

"Come on, Olivia," Leo implored, gently prying her fingers loose. "Let's just get this over with." 

Olivia looked like she wanted to argue the point, but Leo's pleading gaze eventually softened her resolve. 

"Fine," she growled. "But you're on your own next time, your highness." 

"Sure," Leo agreed, sighing. 

Olivia gave him a warning look, before stomping off down the corridor. 

"Shall we?" Madeleine prompted Leo to offer his arm for her to take.

*** 

"This is pointless," Leo announced, leaning back on the lounge chair and closing his eyes. After many hours of intense etiquette lectures, role plays, quizzes and more, he felt his stomach rumble as they waited for lunch to be prepared by the Michelin chef, sans alcohol. 

"What's pointless is the amount of money Liam has spent on trying to make you a decent human being," Madeleine bit back, flipping the cover of her personal binder of court decorum closed. 

"I am a decent human being," Leo countered, frowning. "I'm a far better man than you'll ever know." 

"Oh, really?" Madeleine challenged, raising her eyebrow. "Then how come your wife is threatening divorce?" 

"That is none of your business, or Liam's for that matter," Leo snapped, opening his eyes. "And just for the record, my life is none of yours either. You don't know the first thing about love, or me." 

"I know you can't keep it in your pants," she retorts, rolling her eyes. 

"So do I," a voice came from the doorway. 

Leo turned towards the speaker in shock.

"Katie," Leo breathed shallowly, pushing himself upright. 

"Don't get too excited," Katie told him, folding her arms. "I'm not here for you. I'm here for the kids." 

"You're... you're..."  Leo stammered nervously. 

Looking at her husband, she almost felt sorry for him. Almost. 

"Why are you here, Katie?" Leo demanded, standing up. 

"Your brother sent me to help," she explained, looking everywhere but at him. 

Madeleine excused herself and quietly sauntered out with her binder in hand.

"Yes. He thought it might help to have me here. Help you remember what is important. Family, love, loyalty." 

Leo shook his head, moving slowly towards her. "You don't get it. I'm not the same man anymore." 

"Then maybe it's time to prove it." Katie said. 

"That's what I'm trying to do!" Leo shot back, stopping in place. "I'm here, aren't I?"  

At that moment, Leo understood why Liam sent him to the island. His epiphany.

"I have to go," Katie said, her eyes softening. "I'll be back later, when you've had time to process this." 

Leo watched her walk away, a sense of unease settling in the pit of his stomach. 

*** 

Later, Leo found himself sitting on his balcony, staring at a glass of scotch. He had resisted the urge to drink it, but he was still tempted. His phone buzzed on the table, and he reached for it. 

"Hello?" 

"Hey," came the reply. 

"I made a grave mistake ..." 

Leo paused, relieved at the sound of his fellow 'in-mate'.

"Thorne." 

“How so?” 

"Well, remember when we met at the bar with your brother. I should have believed your brother. That he would be true to his word with his threat." 

“Oh boy, this sounds painful.” Leo smirked, already knowing where this conversation was heading.. 

“Who did he partner you with?” 

“Olivia Nevrakis! She is terrifying! Put a dagger to my throat when I dissed her. She threatened to go lower if I didn't pay attention.” 

"Did she now? Maybe she's the one you need to focus on," Leo mused. 

"She's so intense, it's scary. And she has no interest in me. She is only here because Liam asked her to be.” 

"And here I thought she was coming here for me," Leo sighed, taking a swig of the scotch. 

"Hey, what happened with that countess?" 

Leo paused. "I... I... what did you hear?" 

"That she's going to stay a couple more days." 

"That's just great," Leo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just what I need." 

>>next writer @twinkleallnight

[soldiersslut]

GHOST OF YOU — SOLDIER BOY "CHAPTER SIX"

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

Warnings: Language, alcohol use, smut towards the end (not super-detailed, but it is there), cheating, and Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy

Word Count: 3,491

Author's Note: Thank you so much again for all the love and support! This is another chapter of the past. It goes a little more in depth between Ben and Mimicry.

IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED PLEASE LET ME KNOW. DON'T FORGET TO FOLLOW, HEART, AND REPOST. THANK YOU AGAIN!

1981 – Behind the Curtains

“Why the fuck would you suggest Crimson Countess and I to appear as a couple in the public eye?” Soldier Boy had barged into Mimicry’s room early in the morning.

There was a meeting with the executives of Vought American and they believed it would raise ratings if their hero was in a romantic relationship. Something about people being able to relate to him.

Initially, Vought American wanted it to be Soldier Boy and Mimicry. She was against the idea as a whole.

Mimicry enjoys her time with Soldier Boy, but not to the point she needs a man.

“Good morning to you too, sunshine. The people eat this shit up. Your ratings will go through the roof. Isn’t that what we are working towards to?” Mimicry had to rub her eyes to stay awake. It had been a very long day yesterday and was hoping to sleep in.

“That’s not my problem. My problem is why the fuck am I going to be in a relationship with the dumb bimbo. She’s not even blonde!” he snapped.

Mimicry rolled her eyes. For someone who has lived for so long he continues to act like a child.

“Think about it. I am supposed to be your sidekick—“

Soldier Boy quickly interrupted, “and I have Gunpowder for that.” He then took a seat at the edge of the bed next to her.

Mimicry put her finger up to his lips, “let me finish, Ben.”

Ben hated when she would do that.

“Yes, Gunpowder is supposed to be your sidekick too but I was the first one. You know how bad it will look on me? I was the sidekick and now I am in a relationship with him. At that point we might as well just tell people I slept my way to get to you.”

Ben scoffed, “no one will think that.” Mimicry gave him a look. He knew she was right, but he did not want to admit it. He hated that too.

“Just think about it this way. While Countess talks your ear off just think of how much exciting it’ll be coming back to me. Can you imagine just how much you’ll be anticipating? And who knows, maybe we can sneak around,” she teased.

The idea of sneaking around made Ben excited. The thrill and adrenaline that comes with it made it so much better.

“And what about you? You won’t be looking forward to it?” he asked.

Mimicry smirked, “of course I will be. Every time you have to kiss her just close your eyes and imagine it was me.”

By now Ben had gotten so close to Mimicry’s face that he felt the tip of her lips on his own.

“And you won’t be imagining me? Every time you see me and Countess you wish it was you?”

Mimicry let out a small laugh, and without answering she closed the gap between them. Ben got a hold of Mimicry’s hips and pulled her to his lap.

Her hands went through his hair and she let out a gasp when he began to kiss her neck.

That was a wonderful way to start off their morning.

Today was going to be the beginning of Soldier Boy and Crimson Countess’ relationship. The revelation will happen at the movie premiere happening later today.

In the mean time the reception hall where the after party was going to be hosted was being put together.

While people worked, Payback had to go over their lines and roles for the night.

Ben and Mimicry entered the meeting room, the rest of the team was already there along with Stan Edgar.

“Big man is here!” announced Gunpowder.

“Shut the fuck up,” Ben shot him down.

Mimicry let out a snicker and sat on the chair that is the right-hand side of Ben.

The meeting began, and Mimicry was already bored.

As usual, Ben was going to be the attention of the party and with his relationship coming forward he had to be on his best behavior. Which meant the alcohol and drugs have to be kept at a minimum. He must also keep his hands to himself.

Crimson Countess was going to be by Ben’s side the entire event, and she is expected to appear like a woman in love.

Mimicry took noticed how Crimson Countess looked eager, and agreed to do anything and everything possible to make this work.

Mimicry had the urge to tell Countess that at this point she might as well just remove her panties and throw them at Ben.

Speaking of Ben, he must have been just as bored because he would just stare down at his paper. At some point his hand reached underneath the table and touched Mimicry’s thigh. She got startled by his touch, but then it hit her why he was suddenly doing this.

He wanted to start sneaking around.

Mimicry looked at Ben. He was unfazed by what he was doing. If that is how he wants to play then she will do the same thing. She continued to listen to the meeting without breaking a sweat.

“Let me make this very clear to you all. Anyone, and I mean anyone asks about Soldier Boy and Crimson Countess. They are the couple. They have the epic love story that all of you desire to have someday.”

Mimicry agreed and nodded her head.

“Who knows, maybe out of this little love between Soldier Boy and Countess another one can arise? How about Mimicry? Who should she be paired up with?” Noir spoke up.

That made Ben pop a vein out.

“Can anything more stupid come out of your fucking mouth? Mimicry isn’t getting in no relationship with anyone. Let’s make that very clear,” Ben snapped.

The protective and defensive side of Ben did bring you comfort. You did not care whose feelings got hurt, or whom he had to put in their place.

It’s cute that Ben believes he has the final say in her life, though. If she wants something she will stop at nothing to get it regardless of whom she has to hurt.

“I think we should just focus on Soldier Boy and Countess. If this is a success then we can discuss that in the future,” Mimicry suggested.

She gave Black Noir a sweet smile and the meeting came to an end.

Mimicry knew better than to leave without Ben. He spoke with Stan about a couple of things. You looked to your left and realized Countess was standing there still.

After Ben and Stan finished talking, Countess jumped at the opportunity to talk to Ben.

You were standing there still and could hear everything. Instead of making it obvious that you were listening you pretended to read over the paper that you were handed earlier.

“I just wanted to talk to you, Ben—”

“Soldier Boy,” he corrected Countess.

Countess felt herself startle now, “I just wanted to thank you for this opportunity and I promise not to fail. I am excited for this and whatever it is you need, I’m your girl.” She had begun to twirl her hair and smile sweetly at him.

Mimicry could not help but snicker, it caught both Ben and Countess’ attention.

“Thank you for the offer, Countess. I will keep that in mind.”

Soldier Boy was doing everything to be cordial. Everything about Countess angered him. The way she spoke, smelled, her smile, and how desperate she looked. If he wanted easy he can easily pay a girl $5 and she will be more entertaining than Countess.

Ben enjoyed challenges, like Mimicry.

Countess began to talk his ear off, and to make matters worse Mindstorm and the rest of the team surrounded Mimicry.

They were hoping she could help them train further. Since she is able to mock their powers they have been using her for training. It makes sense if they can see for themselves where the weak spots are at.

“Noir, we do not need to worry about your weakness” Mimicry teased and put her hand on his arm. The team laughed knowing about Noir’s nut allergy. Noir had removed his helmet and even he was laughing. That is not fair. The only person that she should be entertaining is him. The team continued to talk and laugh more.

“Are you done talking?” Ben asked Countess out of nowhere.

She knew about his attitude problem, but she did not think she had done anything wrong to receive this treatment from him.

Seeing she no longer spoke Ben took that as a sign to leave. He walked over to the group and stood between Mimicry and Noir.

“What’s so funny, guys?” he asked.

The laughter mildly died out. None of them had the balls to tell him the truth. They were asking Mimicry how she is able to keep Ben in check.

“We were discussing about tonight’s event and how it is going to be fun,” she answered.

Ben slapped his hand on Noir’s shoulder. He put in a little more strength into the slap.

“I was thinking, since this is such a huge event with celebrities and other VIPs. Why don’t you stick around with security on the perimeter tonight?” he suggested to Noir.

That is the opposite of what Noir wanted. Tonight is supposed to be the night he can talk to directors and producers about making his own solo movie, and once again, Soldier Boy is attempting to take that away again.

“I don’t think that is necessary. That’s what Vought is for, no?” questioned Mimicry.

Ben hated the way she called him out in front of the team.

“Better to be safe, Mimicry”

“Well, too bad because Noir is my dancing partner for tonight.”

Silence filled the room. Countess was long gone as well as Stan. You knew there was going to be consequences for this after when they are alone and in private.

Ben tried his damn hardest not to let this piss him off. He gave a fake smile, “fine, but don’t be having too much fun.”

Everyone went their separate ways after. Mimicry had not seen Ben for the rest of the day until later that evening during the premiere.

Cameras were flashing everywhere when the team arrived to the red carpet. You smiled, posed, and took pictures with everyone. The flashes came to an end when Soldier Boy arrived with Crimson Countess.

As always he had that millionaire smile, and the crowds were going crazy seeing the new declared couple. He managed to find Mimicry and their eyes connected. It only lasted a couple of seconds before he grabbed Countess and planted a kiss on her lips.

The kiss was filled with hunger, and the sight of them made Mimicry a little annoyed.

She scoffed to herself. He wanted to have all the fun and wanted to forbid her?

When the couple was done taking pictures they entered the theater where the movie will play. You were going to take your usual spot next to him but Countess took it, and Gunpowder took the other seat.

“Sorry Mimi, he asked me to sit here,” Gunpowder explained.

Oh, so Ben was being petty now.

Mimicry gave him a fake smile and nodded.

“Don’t worry, I am going to sit with everyone else” she assured. She did not looked at Ben nor Countess. The rest of the team was sitting a few rows below. What a coincidence the only available seat was in between Noir and Tessa from the TNT twins.

The movie began and Mimicry would whisper to the team. They were going down memory lane when the film was being made.

Although Noir could not speak at the moment Mimicry would smile at him.

Ben could see from where he was sitting and clenched his jaw.

At some point Mimicry had to get up to use the restroom. Ben took that as an opportunity to follow her inside.

“If your intent was to sneak up on me, you are horrible at it” she called out, washing her hands.

“What was that shit you pulled at the tower?” he asked. The restroom was a singular one so he locked the door. They won’t be interrupted now.

Mimicry crossed her arms, “you and I both know damn well what that was. You wanted to flaunt your power, but guess what. It will not work with me. I told you this from the very beginning. If we are doing this it is because we are two mature people to know when we can and cannot. What did we agree on from the very beginning? This was all pleasure.”

Ben is reminded, at least, once a month that their little fun is just that; fun.

“Exactly that, sweetheart. Just because we are fucking doesn’t mean you get to me what the hell to do with my team or not,” he snapped.

Mimicry rolled her eyes, “you were being petty towards Noir and then that whole thing with the seat? Really? I get Countess but Gunpowder? I did not realize you and him had gotten so close.”

Ben had the perfect response in mind.

“You wanted it this way. We were given the opportunity for it to be you and me, and yet you rejected it? For what reasons, I am still trying to understand why because all you told me earlier was fucking bullshit.”

Ben got closer and closed the gap between her and the sink. His hands were on her waist and he pulled her close again.

“We can still take this back. Tell me you want this, and I will go in front of everyone and tell them that Countess was a mistake. We can still do this,” he whispered. For a second it sounded like he was begging.

Mimicry scrunched her eyebrows together and just stared.

He wanted this, and deep down she did as well but no. This would only ruin him, and her especially.

Given that they are touching she was able to observe his powers. She used some of his strength to push him off.

“No. This is what we are sticking with. In public you and I are nothing more than colleagues. Behind the cameras, curtains, and everyone it’s you and me.”

Mimicry could not stand being there anymore. She walked out of the restroom and headed back to the theater, but by the time she got there the movie was over.

She faked a smile towards everyone and shook hands. They congratulated her on the film and went on to the reception.

She followed behind the crowd and just flowed around.

Just how Stan predicted. People wanted to know how Soldier Boy and Countess came to be,

“You know how love works, when you know; you know” she would say.

“And what about you, Mimicry? Do you not see a husband and kids in the future?” a few people asked.

Those words always stung the worst. Of course had dreamed of a family, but there was no ideal man for her. The one she is currently tangled with isn’t actually her’s. Not to mention someone such as Ben could never be a husband and a father. He would never be ready for that.

That was a hard pill she had to swallow. As usual, she watched him from a distance. He was an intoxicating man that no matter what she did to cleanse herself from him it was impossible. He was a drug, and no matter what she could not find herself to get rid of him.

So it came down to sacrificing the idea of a family, or Ben.

She made her choice already.

From time to time Ben would look around the crowd and find Mimicry. She looked completely unfazed by what was happening. It almost looked like she did not care and as much as he was in denial of it, there was a pang of disappointment.

The night continued and the dancing began.

Ben and Countess opened the dance floor and others followed behind.

As promised, Noir owed Mimicry a dance. They got to the floor and danced away. Ben was still with Countess, but his eyes constantly looked over to them. Without a second thought he let go of the woman in his arms.

“Let’s dance,” he told Mimicry. Like hell he was going to ask Noir for permission. To avoid causing a scene Mimicry nodded.

“You need to be dancing with your girlfriend, not me” she told him.

Gosh, this man was so stubborn.

“I don’t take orders from anyone. You should know this by now,” he shot back. He twirled her around and brought her to his chest. They stayed like that for a moment, but she had to look away in order not to make it so obvious.

“We are a day into this game, and you are already breaking Mr. Soldier Boy,” she teased.

Ben scoffed, “you have yet to know what breaking means yet, sweetheart.”

That was a promising and delicious threat that Mimicry could not wait for.

“I am feeling a bit parched. I am gonna go grab a drink,” she said.

Ben smirked and let her go. He knew he got her, and it was only a matter of time before temptation gets the best of them.

Mimicry got to the bar and asked for a lemonade. She waited and looked to her right when someone stood next to her. She saw it was Countess who looked upset.

“Whatever it is you are doing to Ben, you need to stop it” she demanded.

Oh, this was new.

Mimicry got handed her drink and she took a sip, not even having a care in the world by what Countess was saying.

“I believe you are supposed to call him Soldier Boy,” Mimicry corrected.

Countess glared at Mimicry.

“Please Mimicry. I do not have much going for me here. I have always admired him. I love him, and I am given this opportunity to have him. Please. Let me have this with him,” Countess begged.

The woman was ready to cry. Mimicry could hear just how desperate she was.

“I know I was not the original pick. It was supposed to be you, but you said no. So please. Leave us be. You can have anyone in this room, just please don’t pick him.”

The way Countess kept begging was annoying Mimicry.

Countess left after that, she probably went to find Ben.

“Get me something stronger,” Mimicry ordered now. No one will ever come to tell Mimicry what she can and cannot do.

Mimicry knew exactly what she was doing for the rest of the night. There was no excuse that she was drunk. From a distance she found herself teasing Ben. She danced with other men, but her eyes were on him.

He knew exactly what she was doing and the more time passed, the harder it was getting to control himself. Finally, the both of them reached their breaking point. Mimicry excused herself for the night and Ben had told Countess he needed to go to his dressing room. He gave her no other explanation.

“Dressing room, now,” he ordered Mimicry.

Mimicry smirked and found her way to the room.

As soon as she closed the door Ben lunged himself at her. His kisses with Mimicry were just as hungry, but there was passion. There was a raw need for her, and she felt the same. They had begun to undress each other.

Without wasting another moment he inserted himself inside of her and began to fuck Mimicry like a dog in heat. Ben would thrust with such need and desperation. He was waiting for this the entire night. They would move to the vanity mirror, wall, and now the couch.

“You’re mine,” Ben said. His hand tangling into Mimicry’s hair and pulling it back.

“And you are mine,” she moaned.

She made sure she was facing the door while Ben moved from behind. If she calculated right, the person she was waiting for will walk in at any second.

On cue, Countess walked in because she got concerned about Ben not coming out.

Her eyes went wide at the sight in front of her.

“The fuck are you doing here? Get out!” Ben yelled.

Mimicry could see the betrayal in her face, and the way her eyes were filled with tears. Even that did not stop Ben nor Mimicry. They continued as if she was not there.

This was a lesson for Countess to learn, and anyone else that thinks they can get in between Ben and Mimicry. Regardless of how stubborn they are to truly express themselves they knew deep inside they both wanted each other, and if this is how it’ll be for Mimicry’s life then so be it but as long as she is in the one with Ben.

Next Chapter: Chapter Seven

Author's Note: I was able to get another chapter out, yay! Phew, that ending was a little rough. Turns out Mimicry isn't as innocent as she comes off to be, especially when it comes to Ben. Please leave your thoughts below what you guys think so far! Thank you again <3

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[mafiasliege]

I dare you to let me go

(This is part 7 of my fic. Enjoy reading!)

Part 6 ↓

AVERY

The next two months may have been the worst time of Avery's life. Poverty, attempts on her life, pressure of the world, nothing compared to this. She threw herself even more into her work, tried not to be in the house that suddenly felt so lonely. Jameson and her didn't spend every waking moment together, even before everything went to hell, but he'd always be there. Making mischief, speeding cars on the track, sunbathing in the solarium or jumping off of his beloved climbing wall. She could feel him being there, and that was a great comfort. Now it felt so empty.

Jameson was still in the UK. He had come home for Christmas and New Year's, though. But the Hawthorne House was big enough for him to never see her.

She had to do something. Just because he told her to go away doesn't mean she'd just obey.

The next day, Alisa was in her office with Gray.

"Alisa. I need you to research every loophole on this."

The next few hours, the for of them discussed every possible outcome regarding her… proposition.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Avery?" Grayson asked her, even though he jumped on board with the idea.

"Yes."

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

"Hey, Priscilla."

"Oh dear! Get inside, you all."

"That's okay. Is Jameson not home?" That was Xander, peeking in.

"Oh no, sweetie. He's in London. He had been since his mot was here two weeks ago."

Avery frowned. "A mot?"

"The blonde one."

"What's her name?"

"Don't know, girl. Mario tells me she's the Countess of Caithness. Real charmer."

Mario was the security at the front gate. No doubt they'd talked around. Even the media had gotten the hint they weren't together anymore. Their theories only made her feel worse.

Avery tried to mask her disappointment. He was flying around the globe like it was a ball, but he'd only come home for the sake of holidays. Just when she'd tracked him down, he was in London.

She was nervous on the flight there, and Xander tried using his distraction skills to it's best.

"What do you think he's doing in London? You know, other than getting into trouble."

Avery ignored that and voiced her fears thoughts instead, "do you think he's dating someone?"

"Probably." Said Lyra, casually sipping on her Manhattan. "What? It could happen. He's single and a Hawthorne. It could even be that blonde." She shrugged when Grayson glared at her.

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

Jameson was not in his apartment, not at the mercy, and not with Simon. Max had stumbled into a famous bookstore. After Avery started panicking again, Lyra tried to redeem herself for her previous taunting, and dragged them to her favourite bar place in the city.

"You need to chill. Come on, the Manhattan on the flight has started losing its effect, anyway."

Inside the club, called The Onyx, Avery realised how fucked up a sense of humour life had, when she saw Jameson… with a girl.

"We did not go through so much trouble with Sheffield Grayson just for you to commit murder yourself," Grayson said, warning Avery, her dagger eyes on Jameson and the pretty blonde sitting together. He proceeded to say something that made them both laugh a lot and she touched his arm. It was his real laugh, which only made her more jealous.

"Gray's right. Max says it's harder to hide bodies in winter." Why Max knew that, no one knew. "Besides, don't you need to, you know, be married to be Countess?"

"Caithness is in Scotland, Xan. Some women there can just inherit the title. As a matter of fact, she's on google. Unmarried." She showed him a Wikipedia page.

While Lyra and Xan kept chattering, Jameson had spotted them. She waved at him. They got up and came toward them.

The blonde put out her hand, "Bridget. Nice to meet you." Avery put aside the most vivid fantasies she had sitting there of pulling the hand that touched him and burn it, and shook it instead. "Avery."

After initial introductions, avery excused herself to the bathroom.

Stay cool, calm, and collected.

"Heiress."

Avery turned around to see Jameson standing there. She turned around slowly to face him. He looked so beautiful, it hurt. His eyes seemed brighter, somehow. And his face and posture looked more relaxed, like when you water a drying plant. She felt equal parts guilty and ashamed that it took him leaving her to feel like himself again.

"I have to tell you something." He just nodded. Her heart was thumping rapidly in her chest.

"I gave up the Hawthorne foundation. It officially belongs to Grayson now." Jameson was shocked. He blinked twice, as if it wasn't real and all in his head.

"How? I thought you couldn't-"

"I told you, I'm not letting you go. Not now, not ever. But i had too many expectations from too many people. I had to release some of it. So, I researched every loophole the past couple of months, and made it official, it can't be undone now. And i wouldn't have it any other way." She always knew the Hawthorne foundation was what Grayson really missed about losing the inheritance, and she had her own foundation, her own purpose.

She kept talking, if he wasn't going to.

"So, your girlfriend's nice." The best way to cut out the awkward parts, according to her, was to rip off the bandaid asap.

“I'm not here on a date. Bridget's just a friend,” Jameson said in a small voice.

“Then why…”

"Why did Priscilla say-" his eyes glittered with emotion.

“Because I knew you'd ask her. Because I'm afraid of getting too attached again. I've been fighting against my still-consistent longing for you, and I almost gave in. I don’t…” He inhaled a shuddering breath.

“I’m scared I’ll go back and lose myself again. I’m scared you’ll get comfortable and take back you're words. I can’t go through that a second time, Avery. I can’t.” Avery put her hands on his neck.

"I won't, Jameson. I'll never take us back to that time." She pressed her forehead against his.

“Give us another chance,” she said. “One last chance. I promise I won’t hurt you. I know my promises don’t mean much to you anymore, and that's entirely my own doing, but tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.”

This time, it was her who waited. Waited for so long, she wasn't sure he'd even heard her. When it became clear he wasn't going to say anything, she turned around.

"Heiress."

She hadn't even turned around halfway before Jameson grabbed her hand to gently pulled her toward him…

And kissed her.